Enter my personal playspace – specially curated to invoke a sense of trepidation and reflect My deviously sadistic personality. The setup and implements within allow Me to seamlessly bring scenes in your deepest fantasies to life.

Brace yourself for the intoxicating lure of servitude as you step into the belly of the beast, where the line between pain and pleasure often blurs.

I’ve always had a thing for having My feet touched — caressed, tickled, stroked, rubbed, what have you. I’m of the belief that fetishes and kinks develop during ones formative years, and hence attribute this proclivity of Mine to a few incidents that took place in those years.

My earliest memory of this was when I was 7, and constantly falling ill. As possibly the world’s most spoilt child, I fell into the habit of demanding a foot massage from My dad every night before bed. Back then he’d taken a keen interest in foot reflexology and obliged diligently, all in the name of staving off illnesses. Whilst he believed he was keeping Me healthy, I was just glad to have an excuse to be given daily foot massages. For years, it was the only thing that could lull Me to sleep.

Tethering on the cusp of puberty at 12, another incident cemented My love for having My feet touched (for the lack of a better term). It was during My first sleepover; at a class chalet where 25 of us (boys and girls) were packed into 2 tiny rooms. In the wee hours of the morning, I was stirred awake by a strangely soothing sensation on My feet. It felt like a gentle massage — soft, wet, warm and then cold as the air-conditioned breeze hit each moistened spot. I could vaguely make out the outline of a boy planting gentle kisses on My feet and calves that peeked out from under the blanket. It didn’t take long for him to sense that I was awake and scurried away. I never spoke of it after that, nor figured out who it was, though I had a sneaking suspicion it was the boy whom I knew had a roaring crush on Me. 

It was only recently that I developed liking for having My feet worshipped in a certain specific manner. (I will leave this detail up in the air, but subs who have served at My feet can attest for much I love having them kissed, licked and suckled on.) 

“Foot worship is a lot like making love,”

I find myself often repeating this to subs. Much like sex, foreplay plays an important role in foot worship. A good foot worship starts with tender caresses and ginger pecks on the toes. I expect my feet held at all times and worshipped like they’re treasure jewels. It isn’t jumping right into the action, slobbering, gnawing on and attempting to devour My heel. A well-trained foot slave knows how to reign in that urge, to ensure maximum pleasure on My part. 

The feeling of lips nuzzling into the arch of My feet, teeth softly scraping across My sole, tongue swirling over my toes, sends strums across My pleasure chords. The best foot worship session is able to incite shudders that course through My body, tingles that hug My scalp and a rousing in My nether regions. It is one with a growing crescendo that culminates in a passionate and hungry climax. 

Even though I had discovered my inclination towards having My feet worshipped at a young age, it took Me years to finally figure out what works for Me. It frustrates Me to encounter subs who wax lyrical about how they would die to be at My feet, only to disappoint by merely going through the motions without putting their heart to it. Sometimes we forget how much feet can feel, especially since we put them through so much each day.

Here’s a quote from a foot slave who had the honour of serving at My feet

I was first introduced to Princess Yura’s feet during my first session with her. She gave me strict instructions on how to lick Her feet. Any mistake was met with slaps to the face. She’d bring Her face close to mine and then laugh at how pathetic I was while slapping me. Princess loves Her feet worshipped. For a foot fetishist like me, I loved the strong smell of leather mixed with sweat making it a heady concoction. 

I’m fortunate enough to have found the joys of foot worship. Tell me slaves, what joys have you discovered from worshipping My feet?

I know you losers love falling victim to My Wheel of Tasks and Inevitable Punishments. Since I’ll be taking a short break from sessions to go on vacation, I have come up with the 30 Days of Submission challenge, designed to allow you to entertain Me in My absence. The past two days have been interesting, but you’ll have to do much better if you wish to please Me.

It’s day 3, and today’s task is as stated.

I had previously tasked my personal slave boy with doing my groceries, and here’s a recount of how it went for him:

I did this task on the way home from work. My heart was racing as I entered the busy Fairprice and headed to pick up the condoms and lube from the toiletries section. I then headed to the fresh produce section where I carefully selected the cucumbers - one small and one large, as the task demanded.

It was at the till where the task began. I was to purchase these items and inform the cashier that I only wanted the big cucumber, not the small one. The queue was long. I stood in line with items in hand, in full view of everyone else in queue.

It was then my turn to be served. I placed the items on the conveyor belt. Picture the items slowly being moved to the front of cashier. I was utterly embarrassed and humiliated. The items were scanned, and I proceeded to tell the cashier I did not want the smaller cucumber. To my dread, she did not understand what I said. I had to repeat myself, awkwardly gesturing and signalling to the small cucumber. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. My face was bright red at this point. Thankfully she finally understood my requests. I quickly paid hoping there were no further delays. Everyone was staring and I could feel their judgmental looks as I bagged the items and left in a hurry.

Thank you for the task, Princess.

Evidence of slave’s shameful efforts

If you have yet to partake in my challenge, it’s not too late to attempt to prove your worth to Me. The fun has yet to even begin.

Dear subs (and all who can only dream to be Mine),

I wish you all a very happy subby Valentine’s day, filled with only thoughts of Me.

May every sip you take today taste like the precious golden nectarine that pours from my chalice. Let the pulsing ache in your groins be a constant reminder of the grip I have on you.

If you’re lucky, you might get to kiss my feet in your dreams.

yours Feet-fully,
Princess

Public humiliation has always been an interesting kink that is unfortunately tough to manoeuvre in Singapore’s conservative culture. Then again, being in a public setting while desperately trying to avoid prying eyes adds an additional layer of excitement and thrill to the scene. Due to its complex nature, I would never conduct a public session with subs I have yet to establish a connection with, as it takes special chemistry to pull off a successful session.

I get many questions from curious subs as to what exactly goes on during such a session, so here’s a recount of one of K’s top moments:

A moment that makes it into the top 3 is when Princess kicked me out of her room while I was butt naked, without a stitch of clothing on my back, begging to be let back into the room by Her Highness. This embarrassing predicament is scary and thrilling, and I love how entertained Princess gets as she watches my reactions.

During one of our most memorable sessions, I was made to pick up my clothes which Princess had thrown to the neighbouring door and had to retrieve each piece whilst on all fours. I remember scrambling for my clothes, desperate to be let back in only to have Princess demand that I climax into my hands before I could enter the room.

Before I could protest, she confiscated my clothes, slammed the door in my face and instructed me to start stroking myself before someone walks by. Knowing I had only one choice, I jerked off as fast as I could, all the while hearing footsteps and voices echoing along the corridor which added to my nervousness.

Thank goodness I managed to accede to Princess’s command and was let back in just as the elevator door pinged open. I was out of breath, panting like I just ran a marathon, and all Princess did was to laugh in my face and order me to swallow the mess I made in my hands.

Long after a good session ends, I still find myself dreaming up possibilities for new scenarios. K, I can’t wait to torture you again HAHAHAHA.