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?