Foot Fetish — 20
Lydia sat down comfortably in her armchair and stretched out her beautiful leg—her bride Alice in front.
— Go on, go to your wife—she wiggled her toes, pointing her foot in a toe-point.
— My love—the groom immediately crawled over and began kissing the nylon, stroking her calves.
— Come on, undress the bride then—said Karina, sitting with a glass of champagne on the leather sofa, snuggling up to Alina.
— But be gentle, watch it—Alina threatened in a somewhat playful tone.
Victor reached out his hands and, taking hold of the edges of the stocking, pulled it down, rolling it slightly. Lydia watched him with loving, satisfied eyes and smiled at Alina
and Karina. The groom, kneeling at Lydia's feet, removed the wedding bracelet, then took off the stocking and put the bracelet back on. Then he brought her foot to his lips and immediately began greedily sucking on his wife's big toe. Lydia rolled her eyes in pleasure.— So, and what about you, our new one?—Alina asked Dima, who was sitting in the corner.
— Yes—he answered in an uncertain, barely audible voice.
— Well then, you'll be my little toilet right now! I need to pee! Come to me, you'll like my little juice—Alina smiled mockingly, hugging and kissing Karina at the same time.
— Well, no need—Dima widened his eyes, somewhat stunned.
— Wh-At?—Alina abruptly stood up from the sofa and glared so fiercely that Dima tucked his head into his shoulders and even arched without bending. She had turned into the harsh Bagheera.
Alina did not tolerate slaves arguing and could not simply let this go unnoticed. Punish! And no discussion!
— Forgive me—Dima turned to Alina when he was already on his knees, bent over the overturned tabletop where there were locks and leather handcuffs.
The handcuffs were on, and he was already standing bent over with his hands shackled to the tabletop; his legs were free but, by Yulia's order, spread wide apart. He was on all fours with a red face.
— Punish him—Alina addressed Yulia and sat back down on the sofa, pleased, immediately falling into Karina's embrace, paying no attention to what the slave was trying to say.
Lydia, content with her Alice's caresses, simply watched silently as Yulia swung and struck the slave Dima's bare buttocks with a whip. Dima flinched but made no sound, remembering that he could be punished for that too; he just clenched his teeth. Although he realized that Yulia was taking pity on him and hitting at half strength. He began to whimper a little so they wouldn't catch on and punish Yulia. Another strike and another, and soon his entire ass was red, but the blows weren't that strong, and Dima endured this punishment quite easily. He was grateful to Yulia and hoped not to mess up again.
— Enough—said Alina, melting in Karina's embrace—untie him and let him lie on his back in the middle of the office and also—she paused for a moment and added—if you, you bastard, dare to open your filthy mouth again, then you'll go, you bitch, lick the public toilet with your tongue! No one forced you, you little bitch, to become a bottom! And if you agreed, then bitch, endure and fulfill the mistress's will! You have no way back! You're a finished whore! Your opinion is nothing to us! If I want, bums will fuck you and shit on you! Understood? Or don't you believe?—Bagheera squinted.
— I believe—answered the dejected Dima and knelt again, sitting on his heels. Of course, Dima understood that he had signed up to be a bottom himself, for that salary, and of course he understood that these domineering women could really make his life unbearable.
— Lay out the oilcloth!—said Alina, addressing Yulia.
This meant that Dima was supposed to lie on the oilcloth and was then intended to be used as a toilet. And it was decided! Dima was terribly ashamed; he didn't want to be such a common whore, he wanted to be the property of Lydia Ivanovna, but it turned out completely differently. He had passed from hand to hand, or rather from pussies and not only...
Yulia smiled sweetly at him and winked, and he calmed down a bit from her smile, after all, she had whipped him at half strength, risking swapping places with him and being punished herself.
Well, what will be will be! Dima thought and lay down on the oilcloth spread out for him by Yulia. It was disgusting and cold to lie on the oilcloth; it was very humiliating to be someone's toilet, even if that someone was such an admirable lady as Alina. Dima felt nauseous from the toilet thoughts; he dared not look at Mistress Alina.
He watched out of the corner of his eye as this businesswoman in every sense so sweetly hugged, caressed, and kissed with the HR manager Karina, who with her whole demeanor had shown, at their first meeting, that Dima was less than some moth to her. Dima really wanted to be in Karina's place and press against Alina's powerful and beautiful chest. Dima envied her and did not envy his own position. Get up and leave! No! Should have left earlier, think, and the topic is closed altogether! Dima closed his eyes, imagining how this beautiful woman approached him and... Dima let out a slightly nauseating sound.
— Sooo—Alina glared at him disapprovingly—haven't you taken it in your mouth yet? Haven't they pissed on you yet? Hey.
— No—Dima shook his head guiltily, lying on the oilcloth with his knees bent, tears of despair appearing in his eyes.
— Well then, sit on his face! Let him get used to the pussy for now—she waved her hand towards Yulia.
— Sit in the sixty-nine position and don't slack off either—Karina intervened playfully and businesslike, smiling at her essentially boss, Yulia Sergeevna, who was already settling down and positioning herself at Dima's lips.
Yulia turned her rear towards his face, and Dima's lips sank into the sweet and already so familiar cunnilingus. Dima licked all over the plane and watched as her anus played, just like Natasha's. Only a bit darker and more pleasant to look at. He even wanted to touch it with his tongue himself, and after wetting his index finger in her vagina, he willfully touched the wrinkled ring and, pressing slightly, inserted one phalanx into it. Yulia did not expect such audacity from Dima, but she liked it, and she continued sitting, enjoying Dima's tongue, who was already jerking off his cock. The finger came in handy for her.
— Suck, come on—Karina repeated to Yulia and pressed against Alina's shoulder—tell her, Alin, what she's doing.
Yulia, without waiting for a command and especially punishment, leaned down and took Dima's erect cock into her beautiful mouth, embracing it with her tender lips. Dima, from the sensation of the warmth of the female mouth he was licking and from such an unexpected surprise and pleasure, was stunned and very grateful to Karina. Dima already gladly tried to lick Yulia, who was sitting on him and, swaying, moved her hips over his face, smearing his entire face from chin to forehead; she especially tried to catch his nose with her clitoris. Dima felt Yulia's tender and skillful lips on his cock; he continued to poke his index finger into her anus and already began swaying his hips towards her mouth.
This blowjob somehow restored his internal balance, and Dima was in seventh heaven from such happiness, forgetting that he himself was simply being prepared to be a toilet for Alina.
Lida watched her son-in-law, who was practically lying at her feet, near Alice. He kissed, licked, sucked, and did not cease with compliments to his bride, stroking her.
— I give you a wedding gift!—said Lida, looking at the groom—fuck her—she pointed at Yulia—let him lick, and you fuck her just like that!
Yulia, hearing this, was pleased with such a little gift, which could not be said about Dima, who had again fallen into a stupor. He pulled out his finger and saw Victor approach, kneel over his face, and drive his cock into Yulia's vagina; his large balls lay on his forehead and already stroked his brow ridge, forehead, and stopped on his eyes, as if they were some kind of glasses pressing on his closed eyelids. This was a new turn of humiliation, but Dima was already getting used to the fact that his status in this glamorous life was getting lower and lower.
— Splendid—Alina, pleased with such a group scene, clapped her hands.
— Yes, splendid—Karina supported her.
— Come, without pulling out—added Lydia, addressing her son-in-law, who only nodded, passionately fucking his boss Yulia Sergeevna, holding her by the hips.
The first to come from the blowjob was Dima. He came without warning and came right into the mouth of Yulia, who wasn't expecting such audacity. He did it completely on the sly and even somewhat meanly, smearing her face.
— Suck it out—Alina commented—suck his brains out through his cock! So he knows how it should be done!
Yulia, who was already close herself and having received an unexpected stream in her throat, spat and continued, holding his cock, sucking out the last drops from it. Her face was smeared and sticky, and she liked it herself; she generally loved giving blowjobs and being smeared in cum, but that was her secret, and she had never told anyone about it before and only dreamed of it.
Next to come was Victor, and, as Lydia had said, without pulling out, he poured his portion of sperm into Yulia Sergeevna, who from such pressure also began to come, all while still holding Dima's now falling cock in her hand. Trembling in orgasm, she contracted her vaginal muscles, which began to squeeze back the sperm mixed with her juices out of the pussy in which Victor's cock was still sticking.
All this honey-like mass flowed from the vagina onto the balls and onto Dima's face, who from this again received a portion of new unpleasant sensations, but remembering Alina's order, he simply squeezed his eyes shut, closed his mouth, didn't even turn away, but just froze, hoping that Victor would soon get up and then Yulia, and he would finally wipe his face of this sticky mass.
— Open your mouth, bitch—Alina practically roared menacingly—mouth, bitch!—of course, Dima understood that Alina was addressing him and obediently opened his mouth, which immediately began to fill with a thick and sticky mass; the tart taste of cum and girl's lubricant rushed into his throat in a thick stream, and he swallowed with some difficulty, sending the first portion into his stomach. A thought froze in his head—Cum-guzzler! His mouth closed involuntarily, and bubbles of this mixed mass began to inflate on his lips; he even turned away, offended at himself.
— Swallow, bitch!—Bagheera growled. The thing was, sometimes that very Bagheera awoke in Alina, with whom it was absolutely not advisable to argue; it was quite fraught, and right now it was Bagheera who was yelling at Dima!
Dima, overcoming nausea, turned his face up again and, opening his mouth, accepted another portion and swallowed it too, and again opened his sticky mouth. Yulia squeezed the now soft and lost its firmness cock out of her vagina, which, all slippery in the same mass, fell onto Dima's lips; he clenched his mouth again; Victor's cum lay on his lips. Victor was breathing heavily and still holding Yulia by the hips.
— Open your mouth, bitch! And suck, whore! Suck, like they sucked you off just now—Bagheera even came right up close and kicked Dima in the side.
Dima obediently opened his mouth, and Victor, not without pleasure in his eyes, plunged his cock into his virgin mouth. Victor's cock rose again from this, and Dima realized this with horror and, tearing his eyes away, looked at Victor smiling at him.
Dima obediently sucked the sperm out of his cock and, having sucked it out, even tried to push away the brazenly settled Victor from him, whose cock was swelling again in his mouth.
— Alright, that's enough!—came Bagheera's command—everyone sit on your heels! Sit back to back with each other! Quickly! Then wipe yourselves off!
The three slaves were already sitting on the oilcloth back to back with each other, forming a triangle. The faces of Yulia and Dima were sticky with sperm, and Victor was clean and very pleased that today he had married Alice, become Lydia Ivanovna's son-in-law, finally fucked Yulia Sergeevna, and poured his cock into the slave Dima's mouth.
— Let's sort them out—said Alina, taking off her tunic—Karina, come on, girl, choose.
— Maybe without me—Karina whined a little.
— No, Karin, you can't! Come here—Alina reached out her hands to her—who will you leave? Which little toilet do you prefer? Come on, for me—Alina sweetly tilted her head to the side.
— My son-in-law!—Lydia Ivanovna smiled, approaching Victor, having taken off all her clothes—well, together?
— Yes! Of course!—Alina smiled at her.
— I want the girl—Karina, having taken off her dress and shoes, approached Yulia. She even smiled at her a little. —Will there be a bonus?—Karina asked her essentially boss, Yulia Sergeevna, a tricky question, who sat before her on her heels with a cum-smeared and sticky face and a wide-open mouth. Yulia didn't answer anything.
— Alright, on three four—said Alina, positioning herself at Dima's virgin or maybe not so virgin anymore mouth.
— Three four—Alina, Lydia, and Karina, like from three hoses, turned on the pressure from three sides, flooding the faces of the slaves sitting in the middle of the office on the oilcloth back to back. They tried, opening their mouths wide, to catch everything flying their way and swallow, but these three playful girls simply pissed on them, moving their pelvises from side to side, pissing on them from head to toe.
— To hell with it—Bagheera shouted joyfully, spreading her labia and as if shooting from her urethra into Dima's face, from which splashes flew in all directions—now we'll go to the bathhouse with me to wash off.
— We don't need to take them to the bathhouse—Karina said modestly, pissing evenly into Yulia's mouth; she controlled the pressure and pissed in strong streams.
— No, we won't take the slaves to the bathhouse—Lydia said cheerfully, also pissing while spreading her pussy.
— We don't need them there at all—Bagheera, who had turned back into the sweet Alina, laughed spiritedly.
The pressure from the hoses subsided, and the slaves, completely soaked, were dripping from head to toe; they were essentially sitting in a large puddle on the oilcloth.
— Alright, we're all going to the bathhouse, and you clean up here and don't you dare fuck!—Lydia Ivanovna said laughing when all three, having gathered, were leaving the office, where the slaves still sat in the middle of the room, not daring to move without a command.
— You'll get a bonus tomorrow!—she said, slamming the door.