FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0054

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"Damn, girl," you say, impressed in spite of yourself. "You're really good at this."

"Of course I am," she replies. "I told you, I'm the best. Now let's go get a drink. I'm thirsty."

You take her to the clubhouse, where she orders a whiskey neat. You get a beer.

"So," she says, sipping her drink, "you're my little bitch. And you're gonna do whatever I say. No matter what it is."

"Yes, Janelle," you reply. You can't help but notice that her eyes are getting a little bit glassy and her speech is slurring.

"Good," she says. "Now, I'm gonna tell you what I want you to do. I want you to take your clothes off. Right here, right now."

"What?" you say, surprised. "Here? In the clubhouse?"

"That's what I said, dumbass," she replies. "Now do it."

You hesitate for a moment, then start to unbutton your shirt. "Yes, milady," you snark. "Is this because I lost? Why am I even—"

"Shut up," she says, cutting you off. "I don't want to hear your voice. Just do what I say."

You take off your shirt and trousers, leaving you in just your underwear. "Now what?" you ask.

"Now," she says, "I want you to get down on your knees. And I want you to beg me to let you lick my feet."

"What?" you say, incredulous. "No way. I am not going to do that."

"Yes, you are," she replies. "Because you're my little bitch. Now get down on your knees."

You hesitate for a moment, then reluctantly get down on your knees. "Please, Janelle," you say, "can I please lick your feet?"

"No," she replies. "I don't think so. You're not very good at this, are you?"

"I'm sorry, Janelle," you say. "I'll try harder."

"I don't want you to try harder," she says. "I want you to do it right. Now, I'm gonna give you one more chance. If you don't beg me properly, I'm gonna make you leave this clubhouse and walk home naked. Got it?"

"Yes, Janelle," you reply.

"Good," she says. "Now beg me properly."

"Please, Janelle," you say, "I'm begging you. I'm begging you to let me lick your feet. I'll do anything you want. Just please, please let me lick your feet."

"Okay," she says. "You can lick my feet."

You lean in and start licking her feet, trying to make it as pleasurable for her as possible. She seems to enjoy it, as she lets out little moans of pleasure. "You're doing a good job," she says. "But I think you can do better. I think you can make me come."

"What?" you say, surprised. "I can't make you come. I'm just licking your feet."

"Yes, you can," she replies. "I know you can. Because you're my little bitch. And you're gonna do what I say. Now make me come."

You have no idea how you're supposed to make her come, but you start licking her feet harder, trying to please her. Suddenly, she grabs your head and pushes it down onto her feet, grinding them into your face. "Keep licking," she says. "And don't stop until I tell you to."

You keep licking her feet, and she starts moaning louder and grinding her feet harder into your face. "Keep going," she says. "You're doing great."

The smell of Janelle's smooth, long feet—a very realistic mix of sweat and cinnamon skin lotion—and the pressure of her strong hand on the back of your head, are having an unintended effect on you. Soon, between licks, you're moaning too. Finally you both cum.

"Wow," she says, when she's finally recovered. "I didn't know humans could do that."

"Neither did I," you reply, panting.

"Well, I guess you learn something new every day," she says. "Now get up and get dressed. We're going home."

You get up and get dressed, and Janelle leads you out to the car. She's holding your head down so you can't see her face, but you can tell she's enjoying the view.

When you get home, she tells you to get on your hands and knees, then crawl to the bedroom and get on the bed.

"I want you to lick my feet until I cum again," she grins. "And then I'm going to let you do whatever you want to me."

"Yes, Janelle," you reply, and start licking her feet. She moans and writhes in pleasure, and soon she's coming all over your face and chest. "Damn, baby," she says. "You're good at this."

"Thank you, Janelle," you reply.

You spend the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, and you both have the time of your lives. You know that you'll never be able to go back to a normal, human relationship again. From now on, you're Janelle's little bitch, and you'll do whatever she says. And you couldn't be happier about it.

In the morning, you notice she brought a golf club home, and it's lying alongside the bed. You gently nudge her awake. "Nelly—what—why?" you ask, gesturing at the club.

"Oh, that?" she says, looking at it and then back at you. "I decided I wanted to keep it as a souvenir. From our first date." You smile and kiss her. "I love you, Janelle," you say. "I love you too, baby," she replies. "And the club’s got another use, too."

She puts her hand on your butt. "If you don't behave, I'll spank you with it. You'll look real nice with a golf club sticking out of your ass."

The End

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