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Wrong House 2 (Chapter 2)
🕑 Added 2024-11-27 14:00:03 +0000 UTCAnd, God help me, I loved it. Yes, I also loathed it, as confusing as that contradiction felt, since my deeply-ingrained foot fetish had never involved becoming the helpless dehumanized plaything of an ultra-rich cruelly-demeaning maternal socialite. But no matter how nasty Renee could be to me, keeping me in a cage and calling me names and treating my head like a literal piece of toejam stuck in the plush crevices of her well-cared-for foot, there was no denying the fact that – outside of these disturbing circumstances – my senses were in heaven right now. The bodily humidity, the vivid aroma, and the yielding doughy texture of her foot flesh pressed against my head as well as the rest of my four-inch body, combined, were already enough to make my insides stir with guilty libido. However, all Renee had to do to make me add another source of sexual inspiration to that cocktail was to clear her throat while clasping and then massaging my naked frontside against the puttied underbelly of her foot, and I obeyed by sticking out my tongue for worship. Alternately, I kissed and sucked against the slightly-puffy swell of toe bulk still hugged around my face, savoring the musky flavor of the giantess’s most-gorgeous assets, even while a radiant sense of disgrace burned just as hotly in my consciousness as the lust.
“Goodness! Just look at him go. My, my. The technique, the devotion, the thirst. I thought maybe you were exaggerating when you told me how much of a delicious little addict he was for pretty feet, but…” Amelia remarked.
“No exaggeration,” Renee said with a smirk, while still feeding my face into the slot between her flawless toes and rubbing my chest to the ball of her smooth-brawny foot. “I guess it makes some kind of sense, when you think about it. Lesser creatures like him can’t help but appreciate supreme beauty, and feel a magnetic attraction toward those of us who have it. Yet deep down, they know they’re not worthy enough to ever stand as any kind of equal with us. Therefore, the only way they can express that attraction is with adoration toward whatever part of us is closest to their lowly world: our feet. Although, personally, I’ve always known I had beautiful feet anyway. I just never expected to have a dirty little runt like him become so obsessed with them that he would come into my home and let himself become my pet, all for the chance to show them his love.”
This kind of self-aggrandizing contempt from Renee was nothing new to me after a week in her clutches, but still it shamefully stung to have her psychologically break down my pathetic attachment in a way that was probably over-the-top, but not totally incorrect either. Of course, not even having the two giantesses nonchalantly chat about my pitiful fetish out in the open while my owner held me in her thrall for a thorough tongue-lashing bout of worship was enough to stifle my arousal. I was already warming up from the moment Renee pressed my head between her toes, but it took only a couple minutes of this treatment for my nethers to stand at full-mast. My owner must’ve noticed this, as she tended to be aware of my traitorous biology’s urges for her feet even before I was, but instead of pressing my groin against her sole just yet, she swiped her thumbpad against my hard-on. I shivered with need and embarrassment, while still busily licking her toe-pocket.
“Ask me to let you show your appreciation, horny boy.”
“P-Please,” I sputtered, freeing up my lips from between those silky digits for just long enough to speak. I almost wanted to gag from self-hatred at the sheer humiliation of what I was doing and saying. But I knew there was no choice, and even if there had been a choice, Renee had broken me down to my most basic desires, and I did indeed want this. “Please… Mommy… let me… show my appreciation.”
“There’s a good little thing. How does my foot make you feel? I want to hear you say it.”
“H-Horny.”
“Of course it does. Show me now.”
Satisfied with that added bit of verbal dressing-down, Renee was at last content to gently squash my entire naked body flush against her dewy ample-soled bare foot. Since I was already fired up, and still actively licking between the giantess’s toes with a ravenous bent, having my erection at last mushed into direct rubbing contact with a velvety-lush sole wrinkle furrowed along the underside of her ped was almost enough to make me lose it in the first ten seconds of this completed reunion. I practically turned to a liquid in her hands, writhing and shuddering with half-unwanted pleasure, as I savored the sensations greeting my mouth and my member alike. Until after only a minute of multitasked grinding against Renee’s sole and toes, I spasmed to a gasping orgasm while held between her hand and foot.
“Oh, yes,” Amelia playfully purred from the sidelines. “That was… certainly something! Goodness, goodness. Well, sis, are you going to be a nice hostess and share your favorite toy with me, or am I going to have to steal him for myself?”
“You always did enjoy taking my things back when we were little girls, didn’t you?” Renee said, somewhat wistful, while her molesting fingers enclosed tauter around my body during my shaky post-climax throes. Even after completion, she still kept my head tucked between those succulent toes. “My dolls, my makeup, my clothes. And I think you tried to steal my first boyfriend, even though it didn’t work. That really was a nuisance sometimes. But, fortunately for you, I’ve matured since then. And what are sisters for, after all, if not to share the love?”
Hearing this relented admission from Renee, and sensing the eagerness from Amelia even while I couldn’t see her, I knew I was about to be handed off for another bout of probably-amorous subhuman treatment. Making that revelation both darker and more inviting at once was my realization that I didn’t mind. In fact, I wanted to take a turn with this visitor more than anything, or at least a very specific part of me desired it that badly, while the rest of me had to glumly accept the reality that my owner just might have broken me after only a week in her captivity. The brash rebellious unflinching “old” me, only seven days ago, would’ve roared and thrashed in defiance at every turn of this madness, calling these domineering sexual terrorists all kinds of furious names and challenging them to either let me go or do away with me. Now, though, following so many mind-warping repetitions of having my fetish exploited and my sense of self degraded, I was just like putty in their palms, or rather at their feet. It would’ve been unbearable if it didn’t feel so damn good.
“Oh, I knew there was a reason you were my favorite sister!” Amelia gleefully chimed.
“I’m your only sister…” Renee dryly joked, then at last withdrew my nakedness away from the bottom of her foot.
Still a little woozy from the forcefulness of that sole-humping session and from the luscious flavor of worshipping the ticklish crevasse between my captor’s largest toes, I remained limp in her grasp, with my head hung and my breathing heavy. However, I couldn’t help but perk up just a little more when Amelia’s fingers curled around my frame and gingerly snatched me away from her sister. Since I guessed she had less experience with holding four-inch-tall people than Renee, I was relieved to find that she didn’t squeeze me too tightly. But the woman also had zero compunction about touching me wherever she pleased, even tauntingly circling the pad of her thumb against my recently-stimulated groin, which during the lingering afterglow just felt more overwhelming than actually pleasurable, and I automatically squirmed in her hand. This only earned an adoring giggle from Amelia, but certainly didn’t stop her from feeling me up, as she lowered me immediately toward the floor in front of her neighboring armchair.
“Goodness, look at you. So much… enthusiasm… all in one small package. What she told me about you really is true, isn’t it, little one? You are a horny boy,” she coyly murmured. Now holding my body almost level with the ground, Amelia kept her golden-tanned right foot – clad in a strappy mocha-hued leather sandal, with her nails polished a deep candied purple – flat for only a moment before gradually arching her heel off the surface of the shoe. The ball of her foot soon followed suit, leaving only her beefy pillow-soft toes in contact with the insole. “Aren’t you, now?”
“Yes,” I dutifully replied, a little depressed, but also feeling correct. Remembering what she’d said before, I added with greater ease than I once could have: “…Aunty.”
Unlike Renee, who tended to come off stern and stoic even whenever I successfully followed her commands or embodied the kind of tiny human-shaped pet she wanted, Amelia immediately squealed with almost-kiddish excitement that I’d called her by that semi-unsettling nickname. Though the noise quickly turned more seductive again, and with a curious lilt of a moan, the giantess carefully slid my supine four-inch body directly onto the worn-down slab of her brown sandal insole, below the still-upraised crescent curvature of her wide sole.
