Footbound (Chapter 11) (Patreon)

Faithful to his mistress of the night, Mitch didn’t shut his eyes for longer than a wink or even think of groping himself during the day, much as he wished to at the combination of conversation with Lilina and faint recollections from the last cheek-rubbing expedition against the bed invader’s sole flesh. He only ached for her, just as she’d instructed, and when the time finally came for sleep, he did so eagerly and with the swiftness of a falling rock. This time, when he opened his eyes in the recurring lucid dream (ironic, given his lack of control once she arrived), Mitch knew in his heart it was time. His pulse quickened as the room seemed to stretch into a yawning void all around him more so than ever, nearly to a frightening degree, but he drew strength from the intimate presence he perceived flattening him back into the bed, as was her custom and which he now had grown to love. At this point, if only she promised not to leave him, he’d have happily remained pressed inescapably into the mattress as though a warm bare foot the size of a car was gingerly trampling him.

“You have not strayed.” Her voice pierced through him like a flensing knife, though her feet were still nowhere to be seen.

“N-No, ma’am,” he squeaked.

“Ma’am,” she repeated with a murmur. “That will not be my name to you.”

“Oh. I’m… I’m really s-sorry!” Mitch replied instantly, still terrified of offending her and losing access to her gifts forever. “Please, forgive-”

“You needn’t blather on. I am not some petty royalty, to be placated like a child. I would tell you my real name, but you would not be able to pronounce it, nor hear it. Your desire to pay your debt to me has provided a name, however, and so you will call me Eve.”

“Of course. Eve. It’s… a b-beautiful na-”

“Your compliments do not interest me, so long as they do not serve your redemption toward me and my feet,” Eve interrupted. Her voice never became angry, just as chilly and simultaneously seductive as ever, but right away Mitch found himself subdued by her lordlier attitude tonight. Not that he was about to complain, when she’d given him so much already. If anything, her dominating tone matched the larger-than-life enigma she already projected by commanding his body to freeze and burying him alive in her arch. “And you are prepared to serve again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he gulped. “Please. Let me. I’ll do anything you want.”

“That was always the case,” she smarmed. “Whether you offered or not.”

There was no buildup this time. Mitch went directly from immobilization in the cold solitude of his sheets, surrounded by darkness and empty space, to deep immersion in Eve’s sole. It was instantaneously muzzled across his whole face at once, unquestionably larger than their previous encounter but proportionally so, such that he was fairly certain she could’ve covered his whole torso at once under it too. Of course he was grateful that there was no waiting game to play this time, and before she even prompted, he set off on another trippy visual flight across the lush silky-rippled wilderness of lunar-pinkish foothills, electrified with goose bumps and hardening fast under the sheets.

She didn’t keep him in suspense long there, either. Magnificent as she was at ensnaring his whole consciousness to the large sole currently masked across his features, making him nuzzle the creamy smooth texture like recently-rained earth and inhale the sweet ethereal musk of those wrinkles, all it took to equally split his attention was the opposite foot firmly greeting his mast just as instantaneously. Much like the ped now resting comfortably across his whole head in an all-consuming embrace, the opposite arch definitely dwarfed his hard-on. Emasculating as it might’ve been to be outsized so thoroughly in this way, however, Mitch was only concerned now with the realization that there was so much more terrain than before for her to softly grind against his trembling need.

And grind she did, immediately putting her curiously enlarged sole feverishly to work. Funnily enough in the recipient’s mind, while last night it felt as though her foot largely remained in a state of stationary petting as she simultaneously caused him to experience ghostly sensations of rapid-fire sleek-soled massaging, quite the opposite was happening now. Eve was wonderfully assaulting his cock under that humongous and yet strangely delicate sole, causing his boxers to pop fully open and the sheets to flutter in the dark from the force of its motion. She was pressing it taut against every curve of her foot, again somehow made friction-free by her angelic dew of night sweat alone, pinning and stroking and making him feel every intimate detail in the flexed architecture of her soft warm flesh.

Still, Mitch was made oddly calm throughout her effortless techniques, his stasis unmoved and even made more soothing, as though he was being allowed to drift off to sleep with a drowsy final cum while his secret beloved calmingly caressed his rod to orgasm against the silkiest crinkle-divots in tender underfoot slope. However it was that she was able to accomplish this trick, he adored it, and only hoped she still had more to show him.

“You have come now to more fully comprehend the greatness of your debt to me. You have felt what you are in comparison to me. That you are lesser without my collection of you,” Eve continued, though her speech didn’t require the slightest slowdown in her two-pronged rubdowns. The way her feet worked in tandem now, Mitch almost felt like she could drag him right off the edge of the bed under these perfectly domineering sole-slabs and walk upon him like a pair of slippers shooting through the stretched-out blackness of his dreamland. He was fully prepared to become her floor mat for the night, if she requested such a thing, if only to earn his keep. “You do acknowledge this, yes?”

“Yes,” Mitch said, responding telepathically without skipping a beat. “I do. Y-You… these… visits… it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Of course it is. Not that you had much of value to count upon before me, but there is no question that I am offering greater fulfillment to you now that you ever dared dream you might achieve,” Eve responded, nonjudgmental as ever in her sultrily calculating tone. “How then would you thank me for what I’ve bestowed? The payments of your love seed are still necessary, but I believe you have more to pay, in other manners. What will you do, lesser one, when I will not allow you to move your body or speak aloud?”

It seemed the longer Mitch spent in Eve’s presence, the more synchronized his own desires became with hers, as he understood almost instantly what was required of him now. Without further prompting, since she’d already given him everything he needed now by granting back a modicum of control over his mouth but not his voice box to actually speak, he puckered up and reverently kissed the broad pith-rosy valley he’d been longing now for three days straight to worship more effusively. Unfortunately she’d only allowed him back the use of his lips, not his tongue, but even this more direct gesture was a substantially more passionate and meaningful smooch than any he’d ever sloppily shared with short-term college girlfriends. And certainly he’d never been allowed to pay such tribute to the clandestine objects of his affection, let alone a pair as luscious as Eve’s.

When his winnowed lips gingerly impacted her warm skin to give thanks, he witnessed even from this close-up the way those malleable wrinkles and vibrant hues reacted in a more beautiful extreme even than when she fluttered and scrunched her toes for him. Those diagonal ripples running across her sole and into the ball of her foot changed their squishy direction at his lip-lock, pointing like artfully crooked arrows imprinted in the flesh toward the opposing instep. The moonlike paleness deepened, first to a citrine yellow from the minute pressure of his kiss, but quickly transformed again while he decreased the needful force of his closed mouth, turning from a sunset orange and back to that swarthier pink as he regressed from that pucker to catch his breath and draw scrumptious atmosphere again directly from the heated plain of her arch.

“That is a start,” she stated. “Meager, but a start.”