The Making

"So, Rhett," she began, "it seems apparent to me that you're looking for a promotion."

"A promotion?" I answered, puzzled.

"It hasn't escaped my notice that these past few weeks, on the days that you come, that my bed is made, my laundry is done, and the place is tidied up quite nicely. So, it appears to me that you must be trying to hint to me that you'd like a promotion from being just my foot slave... to being my house slave."

That hadn't been my intention at all, and the very thought of it had never entered my mind. But my member below the table top, almost always excited in her presence, did begin to twitch.

"Uh, I... I don't think of any of that as a promotion." I tried to explain. "it's only a way for me to try, uh... to try to earn the privilege of remaining your foot slave."

She leaned back and laughed. "Earn the privilege. I like that. I like that very much. As busy as I've become at work, I really don't have the time or energy to maintain this place as it should be, so I think it's a wonderful idea of having you come, let's say for a full day on Saturdays, so you can earn that privilege by taking care of all of this for me."

She obviously seemed to have given this all some thought recently. She leaned forward, her face full of anticipation. "So, what do you say, foot slave?"

It took only a moment to know what my answer had to be.

"My Saturdays are full." I answered.

"Oh." she replied quietly as her face fell, reflecting her disappointment.

"In my new position as a house slave." I finished.

Her smile lit up the room.

Before I left, after another captivating evening, she gave me my instructions for the next day, and all the Saturdays to follow. She clearly had given this some previous thought, and had planned for the possibility. I was to arrive at 8 AM and let myself in. A list of chores would be written out and waiting for me. As she liked to sleep in a bit on Saturdays, I should do quiet ones first so as not to disturb her, but she would expect a breakfast to be ready for her when she arose. She expected complete and respectful obedience for any task that she set out for me while I was there, and I should understand that these would be full work days in her service, and nothing more.

And so they were. Of a necessity I was allowed to be clothed when doing outside work, such as mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, or sweeping the porch or patio. My inside chores, however, were always to be done in the buff, frequently under her discerning eye, as I scrubbed the bathrooms clean, mopped or vacuumed all the floors, changed and washed the bed linens, and dusted and polished all of the furniture. More than a few times, as she would walk by me, she would give me a firm pinch, or a playful yet sharp smack on my bare backside, to further encourage my ongoing diligence. Neither of us was interested in any corporeal activities beyond that, for which I was ever thankful, but these few did serve to accentuate the difference in the status of our positions.

Before I would leave for the day, I would always make, and we would then eat another dinner together. There was never any repeat of Friday night activities. Those were reserved for that night alone. After I cleaned up the dinner mess though, I was allowed to pay homage to her feet as a reward, before I dressed and was encouraged to go. It almost seemed as if she always had something more to do on Saturday nights.

**********

This continued as such for the next several months before on one Friday evening as I was leaving, she informed me that she didn't want to eat in the next day, but instead wanted to go out for dinner. And she wanted me to accompany her, as her arm candy. This took me quite by surprise, especially the last part. Although I had a fairly average physique, and worked out regularly to try to maintain it, I had always considered myself plain looking at best. Nondescript, I suspect, would be how most might kindly describe me. That someone as beautiful as her would consider me as suitable arm candy was outside my comprehension. "Where would you like to go" I stammered.

"You're the one who knows food. Surprise me" she replied with a grin.

The next morning I arrived promptly at 8. For the first time, she was already awake, and greeted me at the door. I had brought a breakfast of her favorite pastries and we shared them together before I then set about at my instructed full day of work. All of it this day was indoors, and under her more constant, scrupulous, and, at times, almost hungry appearing gaze. Around 4 in the afternoon, she announced that she was going up to get ready, and that I should finish up what I was doing, and then do so as well.

Putting away my bucket and brush when I was done, I cleaned myself up a bit, and then donned the black suit with the light violet shirt and dark purple tie that I had brought along. And then I waited for her in the living room.

It was still some time before she made her entrance. As I stood, my eyes were instantly drawn to her enchanting burgundy colored heels. But to my own amazement, they didn't linger there long, but instead were swept up to take in all of her, in her shimmering red dress.

"Stunning" was all I could murmur, in awe.

"You look quite fetching yourself" she responded with a broad smile. "It appears that I made the right choice of arm candy."

Her words were beginning to almost have me believe. "Let's go" she decreed, as she led me to the door.

I had urgently utilized some power connections to obtain an almost impossible reservation at one of the best, and best known, restaurants in the city. When we arrived there, her initial reaction was, "Wow, I'm not sure I can afford this."

That had never even entered my mind. How could she even think.

"Dinners are part of my duties, Miss Sariana." I asserted, probably more boldly than I should. "Please do allow me."

"Well, it was my idea, so I just thought... but if you put it like that, how can I refuse" she conceded. "But remember how we are now, Rhett. Please, just Sariana."

"Thank you... Sariana", as I offered her my arm to enter as her arm candy.

It was a delightful dinner, and even more so as an evening. As I escorted her to her front door to say goodnight, she become pensive, and asked me to come inside for a moment. In her living room she asked me to sit on her couch as she sat on the edge of one of her chairs across from me.

"I'd just like to say what a wonderful time I had tonight, Rhett."

"It was for me too, Sariana."

She looked down at her hands, and then back up.

"I'm glad. And so, I'd like to offer you a real promotion then" she added quietly.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

She gave me a tentative smile.

"Well, in addition to being my foot slave, I'd, ah.... like you to also become... my body slave."

More than a little confused and shocked, I ventured, "How so?"

"Oh Rhett" she sighed, as if trying to figure out how to explain. "You know that we both get incredibly aroused by what we do on Friday nights. And I do try to bring you to the ultimate of that excitement most of the time. But for me, it's just not the same trying to reach the ultimate later, on my own."

It had always been unfathomable, and even dismaying to me, that my entire sexual being and passion seemed exclusively rooted on women's feet. And I could never seem to get beyond that. But of late, as Sariana was giving me over and over, the extraordinary gift of quenching that previously insatiable thirst, I found myself yearning and dreaming for something more. With... and for... Her. Even as I could never dare conceive it to be possible. But it was at that moment that I realized how blind and selfish I had been. After all she had done for me... if she wanted... needed... me as her body slave... there was only one answer.

"I'm yours, Sariana. In any way that you want."

She closed her eyes briefly. "Good" she said just above a whisper, and then opened her eyes. "Go upstairs, get naked, and kneel by my bedside," she quietly commanded. "And wait for me."

I did as she bid.

I waited on my knees for 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes. And then another 15 minutes before she unhurriedly entered the room. She walked over to stand in front of me, and then turned around so that her back faced me.

"Undress me' she said simply, and bent her knee back so that her heel dangled off her foot before me. I carefully took it off, and she put that foot down and raised the other for me to remove. I stood up to unzip the back of her dress, and eased it down for her to step out from. Rising up again, I unclasped and removed her bra. There was only one item left. Returning to my knees I slowly slid her black silk panties down and off. They were already damp. Without turning around, she lay face down fully on her bed.

"Massage. All of me."

I spied her scented body lotion on her night table, and standing by her bedside I started, of course, with her feet. With long, leisurely strokes, I worked my way up her calves, and the back of her thighs until I reached the luscious mounds of her buttocks. I kneaded these fully. With lotion-laden palms I progressed up her back and sides, eventually coming to her shoulders and neck, where my fingers extensively prodded and pressed out any knots of tension that continued to exist.

After a prolonged sigh, she turned over onto her back. My breath hitched, and I was momentarily paralyzed, as I took in for the first time her utter perfection. She drank in and savored my rapt regard, and then reached up and guided my hands down onto her breasts, one for each. I luxuriated in their shape and feel, my fingers spiraling around their pliant softness as she groaned in response. I could have continued as such for eons, but she suddenly had more urgent needs. Bending her knees up, she spread her legs apart.

"I'm sure you know what to do" she murmured.

I shrank back in terror internally. I truly did not know what to do. I had never been with a woman this way before.

"With your mouth only" she quickly amended.

I quailed as I knew that any of my ignorant and clumsy efforts were likely doomed to disappoint. But I had no choice but to try.

Positioning myself between, I brought my lips to the inner part of one of her knees, and lightly drew them deliberately up her thigh until my face came fully before the glory of her womanhood. More than a bit fearful that I was presuming wrongly, I timidly brushed her luscious labia with the tip of my tongue. A moan and a slight shimmy of her hips encouraged me onward. My tip then probed between and up and down the length of that portal several times, producing even louder moans. I then extended my tongue a bit more, to better explore the inner recess within.

Unsure how forcefully to proceed, I pushed forward very tentatively at first. When more fully within, I curled my tongue up and back, touching something that caused her to shudder strongly as she let out an almost agonized groan, and I realized that I had likely discovered a hidden treasure. Emboldened by her response I began to slide my tongue over it, in and out, and her hips began to undulate up and down in rhythm, as her breathing became ever more ragged.

"Deeper, slave" she panted loudly, "and faster."

I picked up my pace, and stretched my tongue in further.

"Harder" she exhorted, and I stiffened it as much as I was able, thrusting it forward like a piston, as she bucked in unison. Suddenly she leaned up and with both of her hands, grabbed the back of my head, clutching my hair as if in a death grasp, entrapping me as her juices burst forth to engulf my tongue, my lips, my face, in gush after gush, until, finally, her fountain of ecstasy was drained to its last drop. Her hands released my imprisoned face as she fell back onto her back and lay unmoving.

I remained in place between her legs for a long and uncalculated time before she began to stir. She softly called for me to come lie beside her.

"That was fabulous, Rhett" she purred as she curled into me. I basked in her praise. "Stay with me tonight. Please."

For her, this might have been a simple wish, but for me it was a command that I could never refuse. Though my own physical need remained unmet, this shriveled in significance to the contentment that I felt in helping to meet at least some of hers.

We slept until late the next morning. As I rose to go to make breakfast, she stopped me. "I think I'd much prefer to go out on a picnic" she said.

My marching orders given, we dressed, went out to obtain the necessary provisions, and then she took me to a secluded, tree enclosed bluff overlooking the river, with a spectacular view of the valley and hills beyond. I am not a particular lover of nature, but even I had to admit, as we sat together on the blanket after we had eaten, that the setting and vista was beautiful. But it paled in comparison to the one with whom I was with.

**********

And so, our weekends evolved. Friday nights remained dedicated to her feet. My workdays on Saturdays continued as ever. In the evenings I would take her out to dinner, then almost always followed by events of her choosing... concerts, shows, even to my initial consternation, ballets, though under her tutelage I came to appreciate and embrace all of her choices, as long as they were with her. We even occasionally would to go to parties given by her friends, some with whom we began to socialize. I ever served as her arm candy at these gatherings, but I came to truly sense that it was me who was envied by any other male in attendance. And when we would arrive back at her home, I would devote myself to propelling her to ever greater heights of joy, always, at her continued insistence, only with my mouth and tongue. I scoured the internet to further learn and refine my techniques, and she never failed to applaud the efforts of my research. Sundays were then reserved for outings together, hikes, sightseeing, visits to museums, or anything else that piqued her interest.

It was an otherwise typical Friday early afternoon when I let myself in and was surprised, even slightly shocked, to find her at home, waiting for me at her front door. I recovered myself and quickly started to prepare my required presentation. She laid her hand on my arm. "No, Rhett, I'd just like us to talk a bit."

Seeing once again a pensive look on her face, which had only been evident to me once before, a nugget of unease began to form in my gut. She led us to the living room and had us sit in chairs facing each other. As if uncertain how to proceed, a silence hung in the air, before...

"Do you like being my slave, Rhett?"

How could she even doubt? "I believe I was born to it." I conceded, especially maybe even to myself.

A small smile formed on her lips. "I suspect that is likely so" she agreed. "But we both know though that slavery in our outside world is illegal," she continued. "And that in our personal lives it can only be sustained, as we do, by desire." She looked down at her folded hands, and went on in a much lower voice...

"And desire can wane."

The nugget of unease now became a knot of dread. The fear that I had harbored, almost from the beginning, which I had constantly tried to wall off in the back of my mind, came crashing to the fore. Was she losing interest? Was the desire in her fading? Yes, she might enjoy our mutual foot play. She likely appreciated having her housework being done, and having an escort to social activities. And finally, having someone at least once a week scratch and relieve her sexual itches and tensions. All of these were no doubt pleasurable... but could they fulfill a life. Especially if they began to lose their luster. My knot of dread was turning into panic.

She looked up from her hands. "There are two ways by which it can all be maintained though" she began again, still, however, seeming hesitant. "The first is actually legal and designed to be binding." She gazed at me expectantly.

There are a great many things that I am not, but one of the few positive ones is that I've never considered myself a simpleton. I stared at her in disbelief.

"You would... would you really... marry me?"

She laughed, breaking the tension that had enveloped us both.

"Oh Rhett, how so very like you to put it like that. As if you're not worthy of it... of me." She paused for a second. "Let me share with you a secret that I haven't let on to you before" she continued. "I didn't know it when we first met, or for some time after, but I finally came to learn that you were the one who helped my father achieve his professional dream. You put the seed money up so that his technological creations could come to life and become real. He died too young, but he saw it all get off the ground, and now it has become my professional dream and obsession, and it continues to grow. And it all happened in large part because of you. And you've done that, and so much more, for so many others as well. I know that you will, and I want you to continue with all of that, because that is what makes you... You. So, I really think that the real issue might be... whether I am worthy of you."

She allowed me some time to digest this, and then continued on as if she really was talking to a simpleton.

"But that's not what this should be about, Rhett. Marriage has to be a partnership between two equals. What all they are willing and desire to do within it then is up to them, and that may indeed wax and wane and change over time. But marriage provides the structures and boundaries to keep it all in place. It is the second thing though, that is far, far more vital."

Her voice became much more animated.

"Rhett, I love that you worship my feet. I love that you want to be my household servant. I love that you make my body soar to places I never before imagined. But much, much more important than all of that, Rhett, is that... I LOVE YOU. Everything about You. All of YOU.

She paused as if to collect herself. And then more quietly.

"But that's only my half of it, Rhett. Can you... can you love more than my feet... can you want to be more than my domestic drudge... can you love more than just my body. Can you... Do you Love Me... Everything about Me... All of ME?

Now it was her being the simpleton.

"With everything, ALL that I am, Sariana."

She laughed gaily. "Then let's get married."

**********

And so, we did. The very next day. At City Hall, with only the Officiate and our two witnesses present. She liked the idea of being enigmatic and mysterious, even as a couple. My Best Man was the friend at whose party we had first met. At the ceremony he gave me another, but much bigger, thumbs up, and this time I more than happily returned it. Her Maid of Honor was her best friend whom she had known since childhood, and who, she assured me, like everyone else, knew nothing of our 'other' relationship. But, she said smiling enigmatically, she someday might.

That night at home she quickly led me up to the bedroom. So very much had changed, but it was still a Saturday night, and I knew my duty... which was also my ardent desire. Under her intent and eager gaze, I shed my clothes, and then helped her remove hers. She lay back on the bed and allowed my hands, my fingers, my lips, to roam at will over her entirely, before I nestled between her legs, facing her font of joy.

Using all of the lessons I had learned, I softly blew and then grazed her opening with my lips before extending my tongue within. I delved deeply, seeking all of the pathways to her pleasure, as she began to squirm beneath me. These soon became shivers, and then shudders, as I re encountered her precious jewel and began to lavish it with express attention. I felt her rising rapidly to the brink and I strove mightily to drive her over. But she abruptly grabbed my arms and pulled me upwards.