A Continuous Race for F/F Chapters 11-15

A Continuous Race for F/F Chapters 11-15

Chapter 11: Arrival in Paris

Following numerous hours in the air, the plane finally landed. As the wheels brushed the ground and the brakes started to take effect, I slumped down in my chair, reflecting on how foolish I had been to assume that I would feel refreshed and relaxed as a flower at the end of the journey due to the comfy seats. I had merely been seated for a few moments when I had to attend to my aunt, who was totally relaxed, relishing champagne and viewing a film. Flight attendants had bypassed us several times and yet seemed to have acclimated to our peculiar pair of customers and continued with their duties uninterruptedly. Aunt Emma, whenever possible, thrust her feet near my face and engaged me, relishing my fervent kisses on her soles. Upon landing, I stood up with frustration...I would've gladly lingered for approximately ten more minutes to relax.

Welcome to Paris, and I had realized that my vacation would not be a time of leisure but a week filled with hard work. To put it simply, I was a slave and was only there to serve my mistress, ensuring her days were as fantastic as possible.

The temperature was scorching, measuring 37 °C, and as soon as I alighted from the plane, I immediately started to perspire incessantly, dreading the week ahead that might be just as smoldering. Leaving the Charles de Gaulle airport, we traversed the core of the French capital in a cab. While the car struggled amidst the Parisian traffic, I strained to catch sight of the Eiffel Tower.

• You can't see it from here, silly - chastised my aunt, who, once again, seemed to comprehend my innermost thoughts.

Reluctantly relinquishing the opportunity to view the famous French landmark, I could only gaze at the Stade de France, housing the French national football team's matches.

"Who knows, maybe someday, I'll be able to play in a stadium like that" I dreamed aloud, fantasizing about leading my nation's women's football team to victory and hoisting the World Cup into the sky. While women's football was not as popular as men's, I hoped the movement would continue to expand and potentially reach the same heights for its female participants.

Our upscale lodging was housed at Place de la Republique, spanning the 3rd, 10th, and 11th districts. Upon entering our lavish accommodation, I was bursting with glee, bounding across the spacious room and blissfully flopping onto the extravagant bed. Prepared for the evening, I heard a cough and recognized my aunt calling for my attention. I gazed into her eyes, still lying on the bed - likely the spot where we'd share the night, since there were no other sleeping options and I prayed that I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch that also appeared extremely comfy.

• How should I behave? - inquired my aunt with annoyance, then snapping her fingers, she instructed - Here, on your knees.

I promptly rose from the bed, strode to my aunt, and bowed.

• Pardon, Madame - I apologized in a small voice, gazing submissively at the floor.
• When we're alone, you will always be on your knees in my presence unless I command otherwise. Do you comprehend, slave? - she stated, placing a foot on my head, pressing my face into the floor.
• Yes, Madame. Please forgive your servant for being so careless and not rendering you the proper respect - I begged my Mistress.

Aunt Emma removed her foot from my head, recognizing that I had been forgiven, and then said:

• Remove my shoes and lick my feet. With this heat, I perspired quite a lot -

The opportunity to taste her foot sweat and the authoritative tone were titillating me immensely, and I no longer pondered why humiliation was so captivating; I carefully removed her footwear and began to sniff zealously her beautifully scented feet, rubbing them along my face, which was immediately coated in her foot sweat.

• I said, lick! - my aunt instructed, delivering a slight kick to my head. [rectify]: Aunt Emma directed me to remove her shoes and lick her feet, reveling in the fact that this heat caused her to perspire. I prepared to fulfill her request, breathing in her alluring foot scent, savoring each moment. However, a small voice within me muttered "is that necessary?" but my mind instinctively replied "Yes, do as she says." She then added: "And show your gratitude" and with that, I licked her feet with fervor, thanking her for this response.

I rushed to stick my tongue out and started licking my aunt's soft soles like a dog, with vigorous, rapid licks from her heel all the way to her toes, trying to remove every last drop of sweat. I licked faster and faster, putting more effort into her heels that seemed the most challenging part to clean. After several minutes, my aunt laid down on the bed on her stomach and relaxed, closing her eyes as her servant dutifully continued to lick her feet. In this position, it was much easier for me to lick her soles, and so I persisted in my task, alternating long licks and affectionate kisses. Certainly, her toes were not neglected by me, and when I licked in the middle of them, I had to resist moaning with pleasure, becoming more and more excited by the intense taste in that area of her foot.

My aunt must have fallen asleep, so I recklessly and with her toes still in my mouth, I began to masturbate frantically. I was so aroused that I came within a few seconds, and, after satisfying my pleasure, I continued to lick her feet with redoubled enthusiasm. I licked my aunt's feet for about two hours until she woke up, surprised to see her servant still working. Only when my Mistress ordered me to stop did my tongue return to my mouth.

• Go prepare a hot bath - my aunt said at one point.

Confused, I decided to crawl to the bathroom, making my aunt laugh loudly. My jaw dropped when I saw how large the bathroom was; it was so big that the bathtub could easily be defined as a small pool. Fortunately, despite its size, the bathtub filled up quickly, and I added the oils I had found in the bathroom. After checking the water temperature one last time, I returned to my aunt and said:

• Your hot bath is ready, Madame.

Aunt Emma got out of bed and gestured for me to follow her into the bathroom. My pussy burned again as I would have seen the naked body of my aunt. My mouth was already salivating when I walked into the bathroom and saw my aunt taking off her clothes slowly, as if she was performing a little striptease for me. Aunt Emma had only her bra and panties left on when she suddenly said:

• Keep your eyes down.

And then, to ensure that I didn't peek at her, she put a foot on my head and forced me to keep my face to the floor as she took off her bra.

When she took off her panties, she lifted her foot from my head, but only after hearing the sound of water. I looked up to see my aunt comfortably seated in the bathtub, her magnificent body obscured by soap bubbles. She had to understand my disappointment because she laughed and said:

• Do you want to see me naked, don't you, my little slave?
• Yes, Aunt.
• You're a naughty girl, craving so much for your own aunt... Would you like to see my breasts? Would you like to touch them? Would you like to suck my nipples like a baby?
• Yes, Aunt.
• You're very horny, aren't you, my girl? You'd do anything to please me, wouldn't you? - Aunt Emma sighed with satisfaction at my direct answer. She gently pulled her legs up and spread them apart, revealing her most intimate parts to me.
• What would you do just for this honor?
• Anything, Aunt, anything you ask me, you who are like a goddess to me, you who are my Mistress.

Aunt Emma looked at me with her beautiful green eyes, as if trying to see into the very depths of my soul. Realizing that I was indeed sincere and that I would truly do anything for her, she smiled and, with one hand curled around her ankle, said:

• Good slave, but for now just massage my feet.

Once again, I found myself worshipping those soft feet while my aunt relaxed, relieving all the fatigue of her travels. For a moment, I felt a little envious, desiring to also bathe and cleanse the sweat from my body, but then I remembered my role and focused on the feet of my aunt.

After a few minutes, my aunt dipped her feet back into the water for a while before setting them back on the edge of the tub, crossing her legs at the ankle. Naturally, I tried to sneak a peek between her legs, but the soap bubbles continued to obscure the most valuable part of my aunt's body. I was distracted for a moment, but Aunt Emma's words snapped me back to the present.

• Dry my feet with your tongue.

I hesitated briefly, thinking that I must've misheard. Aunt Emma noticed my confusion and, moments later, said:

• Yes, I heard you correctly. Come on, slave, dry the feet of your Mistress with your tongue.

I stared in amazement for a moment before obeying her instruction. I focused all my attention on drying her feet with my tongue, satisfying my aunt and ensuring her comfort.

I simply didn't get what she desired at that point. Her request to dry her feet with my tongue struck me as a quandary. However, I didn't want to anger my aunt, so I complied and extended my tongue. I was soon assailed by the taste of soap, making me nearly retch. I couldn't help but recall the different response I would typically have towards her foot sweat. My aunt, noticing my grimaces, sheepishly inquired:

"What's wrong? You don't like the taste of the soap? Do you appreciate my feet more when they're sweaty and pungent?"

I felt too bashful to put forward an answer and continued "polishing" her feet with my tongue. My aunt kept chuckling. My knees were getting sore, but I wouldn't stop until she commanded me to. Seven minutes later, I was amazed to see her feet were almost dry or at the very least, much dryer than before. She rotated a foot to inspect my efforts, then she put both her feet back in the water.

"Uh-oh, it appears you'll need to dry them again," she giggled boisterously as I again stuck out my weary tongue, able to restrain myself from being nauseous from the soap.

This was the first day of our journey, but I was already exhausted, tired yet happy.

"Welcome to France, Jennifer" I thought with a grin.

Ch 12: The hunted and the agony

When the heat in the bathtub water subsided, Aunt Emma commanded me to stare at the floor once more as she stepped out the bathtub. I leaned my head downward and remained in the debasing position until she ordered me to dry her feet - this time with a towel. Although I had strong urges to glance up and try to catch a peek of the rest of my aunt's body, tucked away by a little towel, I persisted in my endeavors on her feet. When they were dry, Aunt Emma instructed me to take a shower. She left the bathroom, however, not before I could obtain a look at her darling buttocks that was nearly fully exposed. I had to give myself a slap in the face to rejuvenate my spirit and sprint to obey her directive.

I also cherished basking in a hot bath, but my aunt had explicitly ordered me to take a shower. Though the weather was searing hot, nothing trumps hot water for reviving your muscles. After a few minutes, I felt my energies revitalized. It'd been a tedious day, particularly for my knees that were extensively bruised.

As I remained in the shower, I rinsed my mouth to remove the lingering taste of the soap from earlier. Reflecting on the struggle led me to consider my mother. Pondering her actions, I pondered if she'd briefly pondered me, if she'd used a new app that tracks an airplane's path and confirmed that I'd arrived safely. While I cleansed my body, gripping my small chest, I decided that before I slept, I'd send her a message to say the plane had landed on time and that I was in good shape. I doubted that my mother would reply, but it was a shot at reconciliation, she would realize that I wanted to continue to have a relationship with her, that I was sorry.

I exited the shower after several more minutes and dried myself rapidly, realizing I lacked clean underwear in the bathroom. I determined I'd have to venture out of there to obtain it from my suitcase, exposing parts of myself to her. I resolved to cover myself as much as possible with the towel and resigned myself to it. Then, a clever idea emerged. My aunt was almost dressed and didn't seem to notice me as I retrieved my underwear. I returned to the bathroom displeased, for I'd hoped she would spot me almost naked and...

She would do what? She would....fall desperately in love with me? She would be so aroused that she'd try to sleep with me? I attempted to analyze this alluring woman who yet appeared a mystery to my eyes. So far, my aunt had done nothing that signified she was attracted to females. Of course, she delighted in the attention I focused on her, she took pleasure in teasing me and probably would've enjoyed my munching on her pussy, but I had no grounds to suggest she could reciprocate.

"She isn't my lover. She's my Mistress." I had to reiterate this over and over in my mind. I should not allow any ideas; my aunt viewed me as naught else than a plaything. Maybe that's what exhilarated me so much.

I tried pushing aside these thoughts plaguing my befuddled brain and left the bathroom to prepare for the evening. The stunning long black dress my aunt was wearing was simply breathtaking, mine, in contrast, seemed like a dress from a bargain store, even though I had spent hundreds of dollars on it. It's true that it's the person who makes the dress beautiful; I had no doubt my dress would look fantastic worn by my Mistress. Aunt Emma said she was too tired to go out, so we'd have dinner in the hotel's restaurant and retire early since she had to start the fashion shows she was preparing for her magazine the following day.

The restaurant was bustling, but we were no ordinary folk, so there was a table reserved for us in the VIP area. The food was incredible - my hesitation to eat oysters I'd never had before was forgotten with a scornful look from my aunt. Surprisingly, I discovered they were one of the most delectable things I'd ever tasted. When the cake was consumed, my aunt announced it was time for bed, sending me into an almost puppy-like eagerness to comply. My aunt had cranked up the air conditioner in the room; so much so, it reminded me of a freezer. The pajamas I thought to leave at home were now necessary, considering Paris's heat wave.

As I lay beneath the chilled sheets, a pang of uncertainty struck me. While I didn't suffer from claustrophobia, I couldn't quite bring myself to fully submerge myself within the confinement.

However, my hesitation vanished when I felt my aunt's feet on my face. She sensed my apprehension, and with her bare feet, she pushed back the blanket. There was no need for her to say anything; I understood how I was to sleep. I crept to the foot of the bed and slid under the covers, lying horizontally. When the sheet completely covered me, I paused and but soon felt relaxed as the weight of my aunt's feet settled over me.

I remained like that for a while, then she switched off the lights. My mind went blank, ultimately yielding to the soothing rhythm of my Mistress's feet until I fell into a deep slumber.

In the morning, I awoke to find my aunt gently massaging her feet on my face. I wasted no time in following her quite eagerly, sensing she'd awoken from a deep sleep already. However, she was adamant she needed to leave for her first show and insisted on making breakfast before leaving. I continued to adorn her feet with tender kisses while my eyes met hers, confusion written all over my face.

• No, that'll do. I must leave soon. I'll have breakfast brought up to your room, except for the shoes of course - she replied steadily.
• I thought I was to accompany you -
• No, you'll stay here helping me with my work., she said reassuringly, before retrieving her shoes and pointing at them.
• Take care of these first...and those I wore yesterday, she directed, glancing towards her flip flops sticking out of her suitcase.

My aunt was ready to go and the shoes waiting to be worshiped stretched out at the foot of the bed. I eagerly took in her iPad and followed her instruction:

• If I'm a goddess to you, I expect you to come up with a prayer to recite in my presence, you know, as an act of devotion. I'll be satisfied, then you'll be disciplined in some way. -

Glancing up from the iPad, I met her eye, my curiosity blinding me.

• Yes, Mistress. I'll compose a prayer to recite at your feet tonight. -

My mistress walked away to put on her shoes and grabbed her iPad on her way, leaving me the task of cleaning her footwear - those were her orders.

• If you feel disappointed, I couldn't stop myself from pointing that out.
• You'll face consequences if your appeal pleases me -

I stared at her in confusion, questioning whether my hearing or my thought processing were malfunctioning.

• Your sincerity will show only if you say it passionately, despite knowing it will lead to punishment. Isn't it clear, my dear subordinate? -
• Yes, Ma'am - I answered, assuming my aunt had devised an intricate setup, one in which I must deliberately fail.

After downing a large breakfast my aunt had ordered for me, I set to work on cleaning her five pairs of footwear. Sure, I could've used a cloth, but I wished to be truthful to my Mistress and so I meticulously licked her white flip flops - prioritizing the sole near the toes and the plastic strap connecting the big and second toes. I grinned as I turned my attention to her high heels stiletto sandals that she had worn for her journey and during dinner. The taste of these shoes was heavenly, and I relished cleaning them even though I shied away from licking the soles for fear of the bacteria they might contain. In the end, I made the decision to clean them as well, realizing the potential benefits outweighed the risk.

"After this, I'll need to wash my mouth carefully with mouthwash" I pondered as I started the next pair.

My toughest chore was the sneakers, which fortunately hadn't been used. This made me wonder if Emma had ever worn them since I couldn't recall ever seeing her in such footwear. Ultimately, it was clear that the wily aunt couldn't manage Paris with high heels, so I licked and sucked at the sneakers for the better part of two hours, hoping my enthusiastic efforts would be enough to satisfy her.

After what felt like a full day's work, I hurried to the bathroom to cleanse my mouth with mouthwash. When the room's door opened and revealed it was time for lunch, I was astonished; the afternoon had slipped away without me noticing. Gladdened by aunt Emma's minute-by-minute care, I wolfed down various types of meat and relished the divine flavors of her exquisite soups. I held off thinking about my impending speech with my mother, knowing I needed to contrive something sufficiently genuine to avoid punishment.

"If I can't come up with a prayer, at least I'll avoid the punishment" I muttered in exasperation.

I soon realized that I was mistaken. My Mistress expected perfection, and she deserved nothing less. I would inflict punishment on myself if I let her down, let alone witnessing my mother's disappointment.

That evening, I had devised a prayer to her satisfaction and committed it to memory, so I crawled up to Emma and knelt before her on the sofa. She removed her footwear and was gracious enough to permit me to kiss her feet for several minutes. My aunt then settled on the sofa and inquired:

• Have you cleaned all my shoes as instructed? -
• Yes, Ma'am - I answered, handing her the shoes one by one for her inspection.
• You've done an impressive job with your tongue, my pet - she praised, further elevating my satisfaction. My aunt's smile broadened, and I couldn't dwell on the thought that she now wanted to hear my prayer. I fell on my knees, bowed my head and began the prayer I'd painstakingly created.

Oh mighty Goddess, the radiant beams that illuminate the world, even as the shadows encroach and seep into the human soul. To thee, the most exquisite creation to ever exist or come, I offer this supplication, not seeking thy assistance which I am certain to receive on account of thy divine benevolence, but for the privilege bestowed upon a lowly human being - the opportunity to serve thee, my Goddess, the reverence of adoring the soil you tread upon, the delight in bowing low in thy presence. Oh Goddess, I beg of thee, deign to grant this your humble worshiper the gift of presenting her body in its entirety to thee, my Goddess and overlord. May thy divine self look kindly upon this insignificant worm for daring to speak to thee, the epitome of perfection. Oh Goddess,

Following the completion of my prayer, I remained in a low stance, daring not to look upwards. Moments drifted by as I contemplated potential disapproval from my aunt, but then, she placed a foot on my head and assured me with:

"Your performance was admirable, my young slave."

Her soothing voice filled my heart with bliss, and with a broad smile although she couldn't see it, I cheerfully expressed:

"Thank you, my Dear Lady. It is a joy to have satisfied you."

With grace, she lifted her foot from my head and requested me to gaze upon her. My aunt, to my surprise, embraced me firmly, exciting me. Spontaneously, tears trickled down my cheeks. My aunt held me close for nearly ten minutes, eventually releasing her grip. Depicting an intense glimpse, into my eyes, she questioned:

"Are you prepared for your punishment?"

"Yes, Madame," I humbly responded whilst witnessing the leather belt in her grasp and trembling in fear.

Aunt Emma challenged me to remove my pants and undergarments. When the belt seared my buttocks for the first time, I screamed, becoming so fearful that I failed to notice the retrieval of my underwear by my aunt. My undergarments were thrust in my mouth, making it challenging to voice any form of protest as the belt lashed against my buttocks the second, third, and fourth time. Tears streamed as I endured the torment. My aunt softly inquired:

"Would you prefer I cease? Or will you commit to enduring a handful more for me?"

I reluctantly nodded, continuing my own torment. She snickered and wistfully suggested:

"Actually, nine more blows if you're up for it."

I nodded again, still weeping and questioned why I was allowing pain for no purpose. Stroking my face, she inquired:

"Really? You'd do that for me? Could you withstand a dozen more blows in my presence?"

I hesitantly nodded, wiping my tears dry and remaining on my knees. As the belt seared my derriere four more times, I lost the strength to cry and as the final blow struck my bottom, I nearly passed out. Aunt Emma embraced me closely and distastefully locked lips upon both my cheeks. As we parted, my vision swirled and promptly lapsed into slumber.

Chapter 13: Paris in Love

I'm uncertain how long my unconscious state continued, nor how much time had passed within that realm isolated from our own, isolated from that excruciating suffering I had intentionally selected. Roused from slumber, prostrate upon a soft bed, I pondered if I was back at home, in my room, in my cherished sanctuary. However, the bed was more than sufficient in size, and as the memory of my aunt's punishing act returned, I understood I was still in Paris, distanced from my house thousands of miles away.

Despite the pain persisting, a peculiar sensation affected my skin, as though a cold substance seeped into the skin damaged by the belt. I alleviated my pose with care and gently rolled over my head as Aunt Emma tended to the wounds. As she realized I had awoken, she directed me:

"Close your eyes and relax, honey."

Happily doing as requested, I lowered my head and blinked. I could hear Aunt Emma's delicate digits meticulously caring for the injured skin, and the pain alleviated as time passed. While my aunt tended to me, I drifted in a cloudy dream, unable to comprehend my location or role. Among the numerous individuals, I could discern a woman with red hair. The gentle countenance of my aunt flickered in my mind, and I perceived this to be a wondrous reverie.

I awoke, attempting to recall the dream I'd just had, but it eluded me. It seemed to be about restraining water with one's hands, but it vanished from my memory, leaving me powerless to prevent its disappearance. Sitting beside me, my aunt wore her nightgown and combed my hair with her fingers. Our gazes met, and I noticed a peculiar look on her face, as if regretting her actions towards me.

"It's fine," I murmured.

"Are you certain?" she inquired, her doubt evident.

"You're my mistress," I declared, meeting her gaze firmly. "My body belongs to you. You can do whatever you desire with me," I stated earnestly.

My aunt smiled softly and gently kissed my cheek. "That is true," she replied. "But I have a deep concern for my possessions and will take every measure to ensure no harm befalls you. I was testing your devotion last night, but was carried away. Can you forgive me, Jen?"

I could see the tears welling up in my aunt's eyes, causing me to feel heavy-hearted. I lifted her hand and showered it with kisses, hoping my gesture conveyed my lack of anger towards her. How could I ever be upset at such a divine being?

She appeared relieved, and curled up next to me in bed, extinguishing the lights. It was late, for I hadn't eaten dinner. However, food was far from my mind at that moment. When she drew the covers over us, I tried to move to lie at the foot of the bed, as the previous night, but my aunt stopped me.

"No, tonight you'll sleep here with me," she informed me.

I stared at her for a moment, then, still in her arms, I lay down, facing her.

"Try not to sleep on your back," she advised. She then shared, "Tomorrow, the fashion show begins at six in the afternoon, so we'll have the whole day to tour Paris. What do you think?"

"I'm excited, Madame," I responded, delighted to finally visit Paris with my mistress.

Again, I admired my aunt's face illuminated by a ray of moonlight through the window. Unable to stop myself, I leaned forward and kissed her slightly on the lips. She didn't react to the kiss, but neither did she recoil in horror. Instead, with her sweet voice, she said:

"It's time for bed. Tomorrow will be a beautiful, but tiring day."

My heart raced, and I felt countless butterflies in my stomach. I yearned to dance with elation, but suppressed the emotion within. Finally, I closed my eyes and, still in my mistress's embrace, drifted off shortly thereafter into Morpheus's arms.

Come morning, the pain hadn't completely subsided, so my aunt dispensed a painkiller after a delicious breakfast in our room. I finished before my aunt and, as she was still enjoying her cappuccino, I knelt and began to passionately kiss her feet. She smiled, thrilled that our relationship remained intact and my devotion hadn't wavered. Then, she allowed me to kiss her soft soles. I lavished my mistress's feet with kisses and sniffed them for about ten minutes. She instructed me to take a shower and prepare to leave.

Paris was stunning, and I was delighting in witnessing these fantastic sights. My aunt brought me to Montmartre in the north of the city, and I felt a brief pause when I spotted the Basilica of Sacré-coeur towering over the hill overlooking Paris. If the interior of the Basilica was exquisite, the view of the city, which you could behold from atop it, was so jaw-dropping that I couldn't even describe its grandeur.

"Thanks," I exclaimed abruptly, wrapping my arms around my aunt and kissing her cheek.

She appeared perplexed by my reaction, probably thinking I seemed like a child on a Ferris wheel. But then a smile emerged and I struggled to maintain my composure, lest I kneel there in the crowd and kiss my lovely mistress's feet.

Those days were unquestionably the happiest of my life. I explored the city in depth. I and Aunt Emma enjoyed iced tea a few strides from the Gothic cathedral of Notre Dame, which I was familiar with due to the well-known Disney cartoon. We dined under a dazzling full moon in a boat on the Seine, we viewed a burlesque show at the renowned Moulin Rouge, we shopped on the Champs-Elysees admiring the Arc de triomphe, the monument erected by Napoleon to honor his greatest victories.

However, it wasn't just these magnificent places that made those days unique. No, not even the breathtaking view I had from the top of the Eiffel Tower could match the happiness I felt being so close to my aunt. I only needed her presence to set my heart racing, only her aroma to completely lose myself in another realm. The evening before we departed, I was quite despondent. I wasn't prepared to leave Paris, to go back home, I wasn't prepared to be separated from my Mistress.

Aunt Emma must have fully comprehended my emotions as she finished packing and divulged:

"Don't be sad. All good things must conclude, sooner or later."

Her statements did little to soothe me, and I continued to amass my belongings, more and more disheartened.

"I understand how to elevate your spirits," remarked my aunt, eliminating her garments and confining only her bra and lace panties.

I observed her with salivating mouth, appreciating her form so flawless and fantasized that one day I may have the privilege of seeing and touching the areas still hidden to my eyes. Aunt Emma threw herself on the bed, extended a leg in the air, and wriggled her toes, she said:

"Approach, slave, lick your Mistress' feet."

"Yes Madame," I answered with a wide smile, subsequently falling onto the bed.

When I commenced lustily licking the feet of my aunt, all worries disappeared from my thoughts. The melancholy ended up being swept away from my body, and I could only thank my aunt and those enchanting feet that merited me such pleasure. My tongue stroked every centimeter of her feet, navigating concertedly across her soles, up the tops of her feet, and between her toes. I licked and licked, increasingly stimulated, emitting sounds more fitting for a lustful canine instead of a human. While I sucked her toes, I attempted something I had never attempted before. I broadened my mouth as far as possible and could easily swallow all her toes.

"Wow, what an extensive maw you possess, my small slave!" declared my aunt, bewildered by my unique skill. Then she added - You're so charming with my foot in your mouth -

Forgotting to have her foot in my mouth, I thanked my Mistress for the praise but, naturally, it manifested as an incomprehensible sound. My aunt chuckled, thereafter she latched my neck with her other foot and retrieved my head backward, plunging more and more her foot inside my mouth and when she commenced rocking it back and forth, I discovered that she was nearly screwing my mouth. I allowed my Mistress to indulge in this for an additional ten minutes, experiencing my pussy becoming increasingly wet and envisioning that one day, perhaps, that foot would have intercourse with another section of my body.

When my aunt extracted her foot from my mouth, it was thoroughly coated in saliva that trickled plentifully onto the bed. Aunt Emma clapped her hands and I immediately commenced wiping her foot with my tongue. After numerous minutes, my aunt inspected my work and, unfulfilled, she dragged her foot into my face as if I was a doormat. Eventually contented, she lifted the sheets and turned off the lights and I burrowed under it, ligament as usual horizontal at the bottom of the bed. I closed my eyes, speculating that it would be my final night in Paris, and fatigued, I dozed off virtually immediately, with my aunt's feet settling atop my face, like they merited.

Ch 14: Homeward bound

During the return journey, I massaged once more the feet of my aunt for a couple of hours, also this time exploiting the numerous vacant seats in first class and the indifference of the stewardess who seemed to be undisturbed by my actions. I believed that they had probably seen more peculiar events throughout their employment or possibly disregarded such occurrences due to the concern of inconveniencing the wealthy occupants of first class and face difficulties with their aircraft provider. That time I was thrilled to spend most of my time on my knees, my buttocks were still aching slightly, and perching was an ordeal. When it was declared that we were initiating the last approach, I returned to my seat, melancholy to divide myself from the feet of my aunt because I was reluctant to part with them for a protracted period.

In just a couple of weeks, the school year would begin, and I desperately wanted to spend more time with my Mistress before the bell rang for the last time and my senior year commenced. This would be a demanding year, and I had to decide on my future. Was I going to college? Before, I was considering attending a top acting school, but after missing the audition, disappointing my mother, and the people she urged to secure me a part, I started to worry that my acting career was in jeopardy. My academic abilities were subpar, so to attend a prestigious university, I'd have to give my all with my team to win the state tournament - a feat that wouldn't be easy with fierce competition. But I had faith in myself and my teammates. Even though it was hard for me to admit it, with Kaley as a striker, we could vanquish any challengers, and I vowed not to criticize her if she continued her impressive scoring track record.

As the parting time approached, I hugged my aunt and understood her unspoken emotions. There were no words needed. I exited the taxi and returned home to find my mother viewing TV in the living room. Aware of my presence, she gave me a fleeting glimpse then quickly resumed watching. Ignoring my greeting, she remained engrossed. I brought my suitcase upstairs to my room, weeping in misery. I couldn't believe she was still so upset with me, but I hoped that after a week away, she would reconsider her attitude. But no, she didn't even reply to the message I'd sent from Paris. Resigned, I collapsed on the bed, consumed with despair.

Later, I discovered a hidden bag of potato chips beneath my bed and, while binge-eating, I perused my phone at the edge of my bed, yearning for it to light up with a beep. Hours passed as I contemplated whether it would ever turn on. When I checked the time, I sprang into action, grabbed the phone, and frantically typed.

"Goodnight, Madame"

I showered and donned my pajamas, pulling the covers up as I sighed into sleep.

Two days later, my aunt, who hadn't responded to my many messages, informed me she wanted to see me the following morning at 9 at her residence. Thrilled to know she wanted me again, I went out to pass the time. I quickly ate breakfast and was ignored by my mother. Then I bid farewell to Mary, who was polishing the pier mirror, and exited the house. Lisa was already in the BMW, waiting for me.

"So, how was Paris?" she inquired.

"Amazing," I replied, not wanting to brag but also eager to convey the truth.

We arrived at the training camp ten minutes later, and I savored the scent of the grass, which filled me with joy.

"No, I can't think about her now," I uttered, forcing my mind away from the memories of my love.

We performed some stretches, then ten minutes of running to warm up. I recognized the telltale signs of gaining weight, caused by my mother's scolding, but I had two weeks to get back in shape before the school year began. Obviously, I'd have to stay clear of the fries. Afterward, we faced the soccer net and, eyeing my companion, I asked,

"Do you want to go first?"

While Roze assumed her position between the goalposts, I retrieved the bag of many balls and, following confirmation from my companion that he was prepared to begin, I hurled the initial ball with my hands towards the soccer net. Roze promptly leaped to her right side with ease, blocking the shot. With each successive throw, I increased my pace and, as Roze successfully blocked a shot on one side, I whipped a ball to the opposite side, forcing Roze to swiftly rise and jump to the other side to prevent the ball from surpassing the line. I was astounded to witness the enhancement in Roze's ability and when she likewise deflected the concluding shot, I realized that she was not even short of breath. It had dawned on me that she had undoubtedly devoted considerable time to practicing in solitude during the summer, leading me to consider that I might lose my position if I didn't become more careful.

As I was transitioning, I got on the gloves intended for goalkeepers and Roze mimicked my previous actions. However, upon feeling the ball enter the net once more, I muttered with frustration. I was startled by my tardiness and as I became conscious of the droplets dribbling into my vision, I realized I was struggling to breathe once more.

"No way will I surrender the chance to perform without enduring the bench," I mulled indignantly as we exited the training site.

The next morning, I arose before dawn, whipped up breakfast hastily, and when my mother joined me in the kitchen, I was ready to go. She made no inquiry and I replaced her indifference. The bus, predominantly empty, required roughly half an hour to reach my aunt's house, and upon witnessing the open entrance door, I could not suppress a grin. I made my way within and, not discerning any noise within, I stepped into the chamber and surveyed it. Aunt Emma was dabbling at the computer in her working area and, as I entered the space, she beamed. I was well informed about how to demonstrate appropriate decorum and I prostrated myself at her feet before worshipping her ballet shoes. My aunt patted my hair as I continued to acclaim her footwear, and we continued in this manner for approximately ten minutes. Following this, she patted my head, allowing me to cease, raise my head, and directly gaze upon her.

• Your slave is prepared for your service, Ma'am, -
• Indeed, actually, today, your effort is particularly necessary - she stated, inciting gratification. However, shortly thereafter, she halted after perceiving a thunderous noise from above, which gave the impression that something substantial had crumpled on the floor.

I looked up, scandalized, since I ascertained that we were not solitary in the household. Then, prior to the words could escape my mouth, my aunt continued:

• I was observing, the attic requires some exceptional cleaning, Kaley is presently engaged, as you obserbed a short time ago. It is your prerogative to request her assistance -

I blackened, envisioning having to assist my cousin in cleaning the attic.

"Truth be told, it would be more accurate to pursue Kaley for assistance," I considered with terror.

• So? - enquired my aunt slightly stemmingly.
• As you deem proper, Ma'am, - I lastly uttered softly.
• Very well, then go. You have labor to partake in - she decreed with a mirthful smile, dismissing me with a slight kick to my cheek.

I ascended and trailed disconsolately to the attic, pondering that I was about to encounter my cousin for the very first time since I became her mother's slave, since she had thrashed me to attain the status I had desired. I crossed into the attic and residue on the floor amplified the sound of my steps, and Kaley grimaced as she noticed my entrance.

• What's your business here? You caused me to become startled - she spoke, scrutinizing me closely with her green eyes which resembled her mother's.

I carefully observed Roze before explaining. She was a mesmerizing vision, her auburn tresses tucked neatly into a ponytail to avoid any hassle while attending to her work and the numerous freckles contributed to her appealing countenance. Kaley wore a dismayingly white top that failed to conceal her navel, and I could unquestionably affirm that she wasn't invested in a bra beneath as a glimpse of her peaks denoted the fabric's restriction. I became directly fixated on her feet and my lady parts commenced to moisten upon seeing those slender legs along with her toes that appeared, to my eye, to be identical to her mother's. Kaley was arrayed in black flip flops, and I could not divert my gaze from her feet adequately to focus on her speech.

• Very well, so? I might perceive your rationale for being here? -
• I beg your pardon for causing you to become startled - I eventually disclosed and diverting my gaze from her feet. She was an irresistible specimen, and I inadvertently ogled her eyes momentarily before she resumed speaking.
• So? I may surmise what's your motive for manifesting here? -
• My aunt assimilated that you were sorting the attic, I thought I'd provide assistance, - I ultimately divulged reluctantly.
• Proficiently, then -inexperienced writer, mean than expectation.-
• And willingly -inexperienced writer, feigned confidence.-

I gathered my nerve, made my way to the attic, and Kaley flinched as she perceived me.

• Isn't it odd how much time you and my mom are spending together recently? She even brought you to Paris with her - my cousin commented, causing me to blush. Then, focusing again on her words, she continued, - Can you help me clean? You? Is that a joke? - she asked, smirking.
• No, not at all. I really want to assist you - I responded, trying to sound genuine.

Kaley stared at me for a minute, an intent look in her eyes, much like her mother was known to have. Then she frowned and said, - If you enjoy cleaning this dusty attic so much, I won't complain. Here, take this broom - and she tossed it towards me.

• Good reflexes, goalkeeper. Your job begins now - she quipped, still smirking.
• Yes, ma'am - I answered without realising the possible implication.

Ch 15: Atonement

If Kaley heard the slip of tongue, she hid it well. As I started sweeping the floor of the attic, I noticed my cousin rummaging through some boxes and checking their contents. My attention kept wandering, drawn to her position as she bent over to search in one box. I couldn't help but pray that she wouldn't notice my bulging eyes, and I forcibly suppressed the urge to comment on her glorious posterior. Although I hid it well, I was now completely certain of my sexual leanings - I wasn't just attracted to Kaley due to her family resemblance to my aunt; any beautiful woman would have the same effect on me.

Kaley tossed some things she considered useless in a large black bin. I had difficulty keeping my focus on my task, mesmerized by my cousin's every movement. Then she left the attic for a while and I feared that she might leave me alone with the mess. To my relief, she returned soon enough, bearing a white sheet. With trepidation, I continued working, unsure of the reason for this sheet. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw her lying on an old, dusty couch. She took off her flip-flops and placed them some distance away, placing her feet on the couch's back with a rather uncomfortable posture.

• Start washing the floor - Kaley commanded.

I picked up the mop and began work, wondering about my aunt's friend's twisted mind. With each step, I could feel the humiliation taking effect on me.

• It's still dirty there - she pointed, taking me by surprise.
• Apologies, let me clean it up. - I replied, quickly fixing the problem she'd pointed out.

Kaley's amusement increased as she started giving me order after order while I ran all around the attic, trying to comply with her wishes as swiftly as possible.

• What an embarrassing sight you are right now. Here on all fours, looking like a dog. I bet my mom would get a kick out of it too - she joked, observing me from her position on the sighing sofa.
• Could you be more specific, ma'am? - I asked, unsure how to interpret her cryptic remark.
• Rohrschach, ever the inquisitive one. Here, pull out everything from these boxes one by one. I'll decide if they go in the trash or are stored somewhere - she instructed, amused by my apparent surprise.

I carried boxes full of dust and unwanted items towards her.

• What about these? - I asked, hesitant.
• Throw them away - she decided, absentmindedly.

I complied, and continued with the process. Suddenly, she called my attention to another box, and I rushed to open it.

• How did you get that? She asked curiously, probably discovering some item she hadn't seen before.
• It's a family heirloom, an old coin collection - I said, priding myself on my knowledge.
• Interesting. These I'll keep - she decided.

In shock, I continued helping, wondering at the force of my attraction to my cousin, whose company I had initially abhorred but now found irresistible. It wasn't just her family resemblance to my aunt - any beautiful woman would have had the same effect on me. Even Kaley's smirks and jibes somehow fueled my desire.

• Enough, you can go ahead and leave now - Kaley said, after an unforeseen amount of time had passed.

Her words brought me back to the present. Clearly, she had gotten used to giving me tasks, enjoying my obedience.

• Thank you, ma'am. Should I leave my tools here? - I asked awkwardly.
• Yes, I'll clean up after you - she said, clearly having no intention of leaving the comfort of her makeshift bed.

I left, hoping that some girl would cover me in her intrigued gaze the way I had on Kaley. My ego was bruised, but I was beginning to accept my cousin's strength over me. Her every command reaffirmed her authority, and I continued to obey her for hours, unaware of how involved I'd become in that attic.

I glanced at my relative, sensing that the responsibility she'd been fulfilling was now shifting onto me. Her vibrant green eyes met mine, revealing a challenge. When I wondered why I should yield to her command, she maintained her gaze, trying to stir up some rebellion in me. Eventually, I succumbed to her unwavering stare and bowed my head, hitting the floor gently.

"Trash," she instructed as I held the first item I picked up, then "Store" for the second.

This pattern repeated itself for over sixty minutes, as I continued to organize useless items that had accumulated in the attic. Meanwhile, my cousin lounged on the couch, a satisfied grin on her face, clearly enjoying her control over me. While I struggled with the exhausting task of sorting through random objects, my cousin's amusement grew.

I couldn't help pondering why she suddenly wanted me to handle such a humdrum undertaking. Although I'd been a popular actress throughout school plays, even taking the lead role, and I still rivaled her as captain of the team, she seemed to have found a way to usurp that authority.

"Bring these flip flops here," she commanded, referring to the pair she had kicked off earlier. I didn't ponder the possible embarrassment; I carried them to where she sat, wondering all the while what she could be considering my sudden submissive behaviour.

"Well, at least I no longer possess these old shoes in my mouth," I mused, aware of my grovelling predicament. As I fetched the flip flops, my cousin's lingering leg rested close to me, creating a moment of extreme vulnerability. Instructionlessly, though, I raised my eyebrow at her, waiting for her next directive. Her laughter echoed through the room as I knelt with my new responsibility.

Calling out "Dust this piano and then descend," she left me alone, not only to finish cleaning the piano, but also to maintain my groveling demeanour.

In a short time, I wiped the excess dust from the old instrument and rounded the corner, anticipating her demands, unsure of what further degradation she had in store. My cousin had moved to the living room, conversing with our shared guardian. Recognizing me, she beckoned me to join them. I sat beside her, as reserved as I could manage; yet, my instinct was to kneel.

"Do we all agree to a game?" proposed Aunt Emma. Turning to face her daughter, she then glanced at me.

"No need for that," Kaley scoffed.

Acknowledging her dismissiveness, my aunt retorted, "Jen will play," and drafted a plan for a game to restore sibling closeness.

"Given that school resumes in just two weeks, we'll hold a little quiz," she remarked. "And we'll mix some fun penalties for those who lose."

"What sort of penalties?" Kaley inquired.

"Random, silly tasks," Aunt Emma replied, hiding pieces of paper in one hand.

As it wasn't difficult to figure out what Aunt Emma had in store for me, I offered to forego victory in order to endure the disgraceful activities to come. With a pen and paper, she constructed tiny spheres, concealing the penalties within them.

Hey ladies, are you prepared? I'm going to ask a question and the first one to answer correctly wins. Don't think too much or you might miss your chance and lose. But also remember that giving the wrong answer gives the victory to the other. OK, let's go:

Kaley and I locked eyes for a second, and I could see determination in them. This was another competition between us, but I had no hope of winning this time. My aunt started with the first question:

"With the latest reports showing that young people in the US are pretty clueless about geography, let's begin with this question. Where is the Suez Canal and when was it completed?"

I knew the answer, as I had read about it in an article in a magazine at the airport just a few days ago. The Suez Canal connects the Red Sea to the Mediterranean Sea and was inaugurated in the late 1800s. I didn't remember the exact date, but I knew it wasn't necessary to answer. I looked at Kaley, waiting for her response, but from the look on her face, she didn't know the answer either. I looked at my aunt, and when she smiled at me, I knew what I had to do. I raised my hand and said my answer:

"It must be in Syria, I think, and it was inaugurated in..."

"Wrong," my aunt interrupted, smiling. "It's located in Egypt." Since I had given the wrong answer, Kaley won this round.

She took the piece of paper her mom handed her and read it out loud: "Sorry, but your answer wasn't exact, like a hen you'll have to act."

My cousin and aunt laughed hysterically while I sat there, red-faced and embarrassed for what I had to do next. For a moment, I wondered how they could have written the exact answer and forget to give it to me, but then I remembered that there were many pieces of paper and my aunt had given Kaley the right one to use for her rhyme.

"Come on, let's see what you do, hen," my cousin said, and she pointed out that hen rhymes with Jen. My mom and aunt laughed again.

More and more embarrassed, I got on my knees on the ground and started flapping my arms like wings, mimicking a chicken. The laughter got louder and I continued to humiliate myself, completely mortified in front of these two redheaded goddesses.

"OK, OK, enough," my aunt finally said, and I sat back down on the couch with my face as red as a tomato, fully aware that the humiliations were far from over for me. "Second question, what is the name of the mother of Caliban, one of the main antagonists in William Shakespeare's play 'The Tempest'?"

This was an easy question too, and for a second, I debated whether to answer correctly, but Kaley raised her hand quickly and replied without hesitation:

"Sycorax"

"Correct answer, Kaley," my aunt said, then she left to make an important phone call.

My cousin laughed a little when she read the contents of the last ball of paper in her mind, then she read it out loud: "You lost the game, in your mind there's too much fog. Now get down on the floor, for the rest of the day you'll be my dog."

I stared at my cousin intensely, and she stared back, curious to see my reaction. My cousin was no longer laughing. I put myself on all fours and crawled to her feet.

Read also:

• My Close Friend, a Female, Fondled Me
• A Stepmother's Varied Testimony: Volume 3
• Listening to Their Groans: The Complete Narrative
• Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2

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