Desirable Objects

I never thought of my feet as desirable until I started playing with a web camera when I was 18. For my entire life, they had simply been body parts that delivered me from point A to point B, serving their purpose without any serious recognition. Fresh out of high school with plenty of time on my hands, hunting for jobs outside of child care and retail bled into exploring chat rooms. I found my way to a few BDSM and fetish related forums and chat rooms, taking in all the kinks I had heard of and many that were new to me at the time.

Even after I found work, I still frequented the forums, building on my fledgling kinks. With the job, came my new web camera, new boots and a sense of freedom. I could buy sex toys… I could buy BDSM gear. This thought thrilled me as much as it intimidated me since I had not shared more of my kinks with my boyfriend after an awkward attempt at bondage and role playing.

A young man I had been chatting with regularly asked to see my feet, after long conversations about some of our kinks. We had role played a few times where I was a giantess or goddess, so large and lovely to behold, my smallest toe bigger than him. He was self-conscious about his attraction to feet and hesitated at first to ask for what he wanted. I naively didn’t understand why he might feel awkward sharing his fetish because it seemed so natural to me. After I showed him my feet he became fixated on them, begging to see them again, finally offering to pay me for the pleasure of watching me slip them in and out of high heels, rub lotion into them and spreading my toes, painting my toenails and a number of other entertaining activities including trampling a Lego man as part of our giant goddess role playing.

I enjoyed the attention paid to my feet, a part of me that had been overlooked before they had been desired by this young man, comfortably miles away. My feet became beautiful to me, and I craved more of that specific attention to the least part of me. I began chatting with more young men, taking photos and sharing my web camera feed if their kinks were interesting enough.

Still, I played, pushing my imagination for new ideas and imagery. I found men who told me about how they wanted to be walked on, spit upon, beaten, bound, even branded. Some told me about how they discovered their kinks, stealing a sister’s pair of pantyhose as a prank only to keep them to wear instead of destroying them,  or being spanked by a cousin for snooping in her room. One man told me in great detail how he wanted me to bind him, to trample him until he was bruised and defile his heirloom prayer box pendant. He told me how much more it would excite him if we were caught, with him tied and begging as I tormented him.

One day the fantasies and role playing weren’t enough. I had grown bored with staring at a screen, typing out what I wanted instead of acting on it. I wanted to explore my kinks in the flesh. I wanted to see a man kneeling at my feet begging to be allowed close enough to kiss my toes. I wanted to hear the desperation in the voice of my victim bound and pleading with me.

I took my first step with a boy I had gone to school with, dragging out the promise of having me as a lover. I listened to him beg as I lead him on long pointless walks until I finally took him in his parent’s basement, where he let me tie him, slap, bite and spank him to my heart’s content. This continued for an intense week before I moved several states away. Shortly after I turned 19, I found a handful of kinksters who helped me on my way to where I am today.

I still crave the attention and desire my feet draw. I love the way I made a man shake with pleasure and longing by simply laying my foot against his cheek, close enough to smell, yet too far to kiss. I derive pleasure in watching men and women fall to pieces when they realize how close they are to having their darkest secrets brought to light, where they may be enjoyed.