It all started with a video and then became pure submission.
For years he gravitated around me and he finally had the courage to be serious and put the effort into meeting me. A road that he immediately recognized would finally put him at peace because he will finally be in his place.
Effort, sacrifices, dedication, perseverance.
A thousand kilometers separated us, he had for a long time resigned himself to the idea of never being able to see me.
And then, three months after he proposed servitude, the preparations began. As did the waiting, and the heavy trepidation.
“Do you believe that you’ll be seeing me in 24 hours?”
“No, it still doesn’t seem true.”
The hours go by, the minutes drag on and finally we are there: the only things that separate us now are 100 meters and a few seconds.
A smile is splashed across his face when he sees me coming from a distance, a smile that speaks of his hopes and dreams that he did not have the courage to formulate in his mind. It speaks of sacrifices and renunciations, speaks of him and speaks of us.
We go into a place to have a drink and he doesn’t take his eyes off me; in his gaze there is (and there will be) unbelief, begging, pure adoration and complete devotion. His eyes cling to mine as if the world around him is spinning and I am his only fixed point, his anchor of salvation; his look begs me to never let him go.
He sighs, smiles, stares at me. He tries to chat, he gets lost in me. Each time I get him back with a smile, I get him back there in front of me.
“Let’s break the ice …” he says, and pulls out a package.
“I also brought something for you.” Three receipts from the shopping afternoon. I order him to count the total of the receipts and to produce his phone banking. I enter the data and the amount of the receipts and confirm the transaction from his cell phone, which I then take out of his hands. He gasps and shivers with what has just occurred.
There is more light chatter, full of glances and deep sighs, light moments and moments full of anticipation.
“Come on, I’ll take you for a walk.”
We enter the house and he takes the opportunity to admire the shoes that he gave me for my birthday. Shoes that he never thought he would ever see in real life and that go perfectly with my skirt that I brought by using his card.
While this is happening, I take out from my purse the collar that he so longed for, the symbol of belonging that formalizes this relationship in which he threw himself headlong into and that has now has changed him deeply.
I order him to kneel and for the first time he finds himself occupying the place he has been looking for for a long time: on his knees, in front of me, with his heart overflowing with adoration.
He who seeks will find.
I bend down and tie his chain around his neck, the one he has already tied around his heart and is now on display on his chest too.
“Kiss my shoes”
“Thanks, my Owner”.
He says it to me, looking me in the eyes and he will tell me this countless times over the next two hours.
I sit on the couch and order him to take off my shoes; still on his knees. He finds himself with my feet a few centimeters from his face, glancing first at my face and then at those toes that move under his muzzle.
“Sniff”.
He sinks his nose in closer with a mix of awe and excitement, closes his eyes, inhales, stops, inhales again, looks at me, inhales again
“This is the smell of your Owner.”
And he sniffs again.
And he sniffs, massages and thanks me. I look at him, smile, and talk to him. He is overloaded and overwhelmed: dilated pupils, labored breathing. I place my foot on his lips, slowly, and when he opens his mouth I withdraw from him and order him to massage. Once again and another and another. he is now so totally unable to comprehend anything besides me and this moment, he has no thoughts of his own anymore, he is just focused on my foot and his desire for me.
In front of me is a man who has completely exposed himself. He has no masks, there is no fiction, no armor, no bumper. He put his heart in my hands, he entrusted himself without reservation. Given.
“Kiss them.”
With his lips he runs every inch of my feet that made him sigh so much. I look at him from above while gently resting on his mouth the sole, the heel, the toes.
“Lie down because now I’m going to step on you.”
From here we are both with dilated pupils and breathless breathing.
I step onto his chest, pressing him firmly to the ground, dancing on top of him. Lunging, I push. We continue to look each other in the eyes.
“Thanks, my Owner.”
I sigh, smile, lunge.
The pleasure he feels is the amplified reflection of mine.
He kisses my feet with my weight on his heart, placing my foot where the collar I gave him is resting. Thanking, panting, sighing. He worships me. He reveres me. He loves me.
He’s mine.
He is inextricably linked to me.
So many things he says to me verbally, so many others I read them clearly in his eyes. I follow every thought in his gaze, every emotion, every feeling. I can tighten, crush, destroy. He would let me do it with a smile on his lips. He would thank me.
I’m back on the couch, he’s back at my feet. He looks at me with the air of a defenseless puppy. He alternates a kiss with a caress and yet another kiss and caress. He thanks me. He thanks me again many times.
I let him go.
He goes home with € 812 less, his heart overflowing and my collar around his neck.
Dea Scarlett Ferrari 