The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

FOOT-SLAVED

(mc—mf—fd—ft)

PRELIMINARY WORDS: After a long silence, due to lack of time, two emails in the last week have encouraged me to write again for the EMCSA. So here I go again, with a story which fits in my favorite niche: foot fetish. I hope you enjoy it, and please send your comments (positive or negative: constructive criticism is more than welcome) to .

DISCLAIMER: Usual disclaimer applies: this is a work of fiction, a fantasy, with no relation whatsoever with real life. It includes some scenes of mildly graphic sexual content, so you should not read it if it’s not legal for you to read such scenes, or if you are uncomfortable with them for some reason.

SYNOPSIS: After a guy agrees to meet and old friend for whom he had a crush in the past, he agrees to do much more than that.

* * *

It all started with an email. It was from Carla, a beautiful Italian girl I had known in Barcelona, my home town, a year before. She was there for a summer Spanish course; I worked at the library of the language center, and she often came to borrow Spanish books and movies. I had quite a big crush on her at that time, and I had the feeling that she liked me too: we spend quite a lot of time together; we talked a lot, walked a lot, laughed a lot. And all the time I was thinking: “wow, she is beautiful. I would like to kiss her, hug her, and make love to her...” But I didn’t say anything. I had a girlfriend at the time, and I thought: “Carla is in Barcelona only for a month, am I really going to risk my long-term relationship for a fling?” So we stayed good friends, she learned some Spanish, and after a month we said goodbye, most probably never to see each other again.

And now, she had sent me this message: “I am in Barcelona for the weekend. Would you like to meet? Lots of xoxoxo!".

I instantly started to sweat. I remembered her sweet petite body with small perky tits, her beautiful dark-toned skin, and specially her amazing blue eyes: Carla had the bluest blue eyes I have never seen in anyone not wearing colored lenses.

And her feet... You see, I have a weakness for female feet: the slim ankles -best served with ankle bracelets or tattoos—, the gorgeous playful toes, the softest skin of their soles... And Carla’s feet had all of it, and more. I mean, I never touched them, but I could guess just by the looks: they were slender, darker on the top, creamy on the soles, normally with light-colored painted toe-nails; and as it was summer, and it was hot in Barcelona, Carla used to wear sandals and other types of open shoes all the time, so I had plenty of opportunities to look at them, inspect them, memorize them, imagine myself doing things to them... Thankfully, I thought, she never caught me doing it...

“Would you like to meet?” Of course I wanted to meet, and to do much more than that. But was it really worth it? Things were going great with my girlfriend, Olivia. Was I to jeopardize a relationship with a sweet girl like her to run after another woman? A woman who I may not ever see again?

Apparently, I was. “Hey, Carla! Great to hear from you! Of course I want to meet. How about the University cafeteria, at 17.00 tomorrow?”

Her reply came only three minutes later: “I was thinking of something a little more intimate. How about the Trattoria Venezia, where we went on my last night in Barcelona last year, at 20.00?”

I swallowed hard. This was looking dangerous; promising, but dangerous. “Ok, see you there”, I answered. And then I called my lovely, lovely girlfriend Olivia to tell her how much I loved her.

* * *

When I arrived, Carla was already there, sitting in a private table almost separate from the rest of the dining room. Damn, she looked good! Nothing fancy, but it worked: torn blue jeans and a very light yellow t-shirt that accentuated the dark tanned colour of her skin. She was wearing very little make up, just eyeliner that made her blue eyes shine all over the place. And on her feet (I instantly notice these things), black open sandals with just a silver string between her toes, light-pink painted toe-nails and an ankle bracelet. She had obviously done a pedicure recently...

I approached her and apologized for the delay. I was going for two polite kisses on her cheeks; she went for a full ten-second hug. She smelled so sweet, it was intoxicating. We sat down and exchanged How-have-you-beens and all the stories of the last year. I told her about Olivia, how great and beautiful she was and how happy we were together; she didn’t seem too happy about that part. Then she told me that she had also had a boyfriend, but she had broken up with him: he was controlling, abusive and “a complete jerk”, to use her own words. By the time we finished catching up we were finishing the bottle of wine, and I was feeling definitively woozy.

At that point, Carla realized that she had forgotten her mobile phone in her coat, which was on the hanger by the door, and asked me to go look for it, please. Of course, I went (doing the best I could to keep my balance), but I couldn’t find it anywhere. When I came back to the table, she was laughing.

“Silly me, I had it in my purse all along... Anyway, what do you say to a last toast? But remember, you have to drink it all or it’s bad luck!”

I smiled at her (what else could I do?) and sat down again. I noticed that she had ordered a second bottle of wine and that my glass was already full. “I am definitely going to end up drunk tonight”, I thought. I was already half way there. And it was getting worse.

While finishing our main dishes Carla kept talking about last summer, about the time we spent together, and I had the impression that she had even sweeter memories of those days than I did...

And then, as I was finishing my second glass of the second bottle of wine, I noticed something strange: there was a candle in the middle of the table, and as Carla kept slowly swinging from side to side of her chair, the flame seemed to go back and forth, back and forth inside her blue eyes. It was quite engaging: there were moments were I knew that Carla was talking, but I didn’t hear a word she was saying, so drawn I was into the depths of her blue eyes. It was as if her eyes grew and I could go inside of them and lose myself in their warmth.

She must have noticed, because she said: “I love the way you look into my eyes”. I felt embarrassed, like a child caught doing something bad, and looked away, but she said: “Please, don’t look away. Keep looking into my eyes, deep into my eyes”.

And so I did. I could see the deep blue of her iris like a wide ocean were I wanted to drown. And there, in the middle, the flame, orbiting around, asking me to focus on it (or was it Carla who had said that? It was hard to know). It felt so good to look into her eyes... I felt warm and calm and comfortable looking into her eyes. I didn’t want to look away. Ever. Without realizing, I was soon moving from side to side at the same rhythm as Carla, to try and keep synchronized with the flame in her eyes.

I felt like I was going to fall asleep, I felt warm, dizzy and sleepy. Then Carla touched my hand and said: “Don’t close your eyes, I need you to keep looking into my eyes”.

Her touch on my skin sent waves of electricity through my muscles, and suddenly my eyes were wide open again.

“That’s right, keep looking into my eyes. The flame in my eyes, the sea of tranquility in my eyes. You love to look deeper and deeper into my eyes, don’t you?”

“Yes”, I answered, without even thinking.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I do”, I said. Did I? I didn’t care any longer.

“Yes, that’s right, you trust me. You trust me because I speak truth. You trust me because you like me, isn’t’ that right?”

“Yes, I like you”.

“It’s more than that. It’s not just that you like me. You need me. You need to look into my eyes, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do...”

“That’s right, you need to look into my eyes. You know you like looking deep into my eyes, you love getting lost into my deep blue eyes, don’t you? In fact, you would do anything to be able to keep looking into my eyes, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes”, I said again, automatically, like a robot.

“In fact, if I looked away” (and she did) you would feel lost, empty, sad, asphyxiated... like drowning...”

Now that was going way too far. We hadn’t seen each other in a year, what made her think that I needed her that much...? And yet, it was undeniable: as her eyes were scouting around the room, but avoiding me, I felt a pressure growing in my chest, like if I couldn’t breathe, and a feeling of emptiness and sadness suddenly invaded me. How could I have lived for a whole year without her? I felt like I was going to start crying any moment. I was airless, hopeless without her. My head started to spin and I thought I was going to faint...

“This is what your so-called ‘girlfriend’ is doing to you. Asphyxiating you. Diminishing you. Smothering you. Is this what you want?”

“Noooooo... noooo...”

I couldn’t breathe any longer. My head was spinning. My life was a wreck. And my so-called girlfriend? How could I have let her do this to me? That bitch!

“Hopefully”, Carla continued, “now you have me”.

And then her beautiful eyes turned towards me again, and it was like seeing God -or a goddess, in this case.

“So you understand now. You understand that you need me, that you need to look into my eyes all the time, that I am the reason you live...”

“Yes”, I said, and quite literally tears started filling my eyes.

“I am your only real love”, she said.

“Yes”, I said, unable to remember even slightly who that Olivia girl that I had been talking about was supposed to be.

“If you leave me, you will drown and despair, but if you stay with me...”

And then I felt another touch, this time on my legs, and I instantly knew that Carla was playing footsie with me.

“Don’t look away from my eyes. You don’t need to see, just feel”, she said, while her foot kept caressing my leg, higher and higher. “Just feel its softness, its perfection. Just feel my foot caressing you. Look deep into my eyes and feel the pleasure that my foot is going to give you”.

And her foot started to go up my leg, up to my thigh, and then into the inside of my thigh.

“You can touch it. Come on, touch my foot. I know you want to. Keep looking into my eyes and grab my feet”.

And I did. I put my hand under the table cloth and grabbed her feet. And oh god it was so soft, so perfect, so erotic. Her skin was softer than anything that I had touched before: I felt like my fingers were caressing silk, and there was a soft moisture, like skin cream, covering them, making them even more sensual and fleshy.

“That’s right, that’s all you ever wanted, isn’t it? Last summer I noticed how you looked at my feet. I noticed from the first day, and every day since. Sometimes I even played with you, wearing open sandals, letting my shoe dangle, making sure that you got a nice view of my soles or my toes from your seat. I could see how you reacted. Every time. I could see you getting turned on by my feet, I could feel you desiring them from the distance. Now you can have them. You can have them forever and do what you want with them.”

I felt her other foot coming up my leg too. I put my other hand under the table and grabbed it too. I had both of Carla’s feet in my hands now. I couldn’t look away from her amazing, blue eyes. I was feeling so dizzy and so, oh so hard.

“You have my feet now, they are yours. Just imagine all you could do with them. Just imagine fulfilling all your fantasies...”

My fingers were running up and down her calves with a mind of their own. Mine, my mind, was filled with images of Carla and her feet; Carla naked on my bed, with her feet in my face; my tongue running all over Carla’s toes; Carla’s arches around my...

“Pull your zipper open”, Carla ordered.

I did. My boner flew out of my trousers almost automatically. Carla smiled at me and placed both her feet around my cock.

“You can let go now. Just relax. Look into my eyes. Relax. Let go. Feel the pleasure, feel the pleasure I am about to give you”.

And then her feet started to move, slowly, up and down, up to the tip of my dick, and then all the way down. And back up, again, pressing it, circling it, moving it from side to side. Pleasure like I had never known before overwhelmed me, coming in waves with every flick of her toes. I was feeling so weak and so powerless, yet in such a complete bliss, that I thought I would pass out.

“I am the only one who can give you this much pleasure. And you want it, don’t you?”

“Yessss”, I answered with a whisper.

Her feet pressed harder against my dick.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Yessss”.

The movement of her feet increased its rhythm.

“You love me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you, I love you, Carla”.

Her feet placed together were jerking me off like a tight pussy. Her pussy. Carla. Her eyes. Her feet.

“You are mine”

“I... am... yours”

“You are mine forever”

“Yessss”

“You are my slave.”

“Your...”

“You are my slave”

“...slave”

“You are my slave”

“Yessss.”

“Cum for me, slave”.

And I did cum, harder than ever before; I came so hard that I almost fell off the chair. My cum must have soaked her feet, her beautiful, perfect feet. I was trembling, as the last waves of my orgasm run up my spine to my brain, erasing my last rational thoughts.

When I was able to, I opened my eyes and I saw Carla’s eyes once more, looking at me. She was smiling.

“I am yours”, I said with a thin voice.

Carla laughed.

“That’s right, my pet. You are mine, I own you. But you are lucky: if you are good to me, I will give you pleasure. I will give you more pleasure than you have ever imagined. But if you wrong me... well, let’s hope we don’t get to that.”

A waiter came to our table with the check. He didn’t seem happy. Did I scream? Did we make too much noise? Did he know what had just happened under the table? I just didn’t care. I was with Carla. I was Carla’s. She was my goddess, my truth, my everything. I would give my life to be able to keep touching her feet.

“Come on, my pet, let’s go”.

We left the restaurant and got a cab to Carla’s hotel. On the way, I called Olivia to tell her it was over.