She cocked a brow and smiled deviously. “As I dig deeper into the recesses of your mind, I sense something else. Deep down, we both know what you really want.”

Warren strained to pry himself free, but the invisible grip of her telekinesis completely bound his movement. He couldn’t so much as turn his head. 

His tormentor ogled him closely. Her hazel eyes dug into his soul. Her smile sent Warren into a nervous sweat. She levitated above him and let her cloak drop to the floor.  The slender-shouldered woman wore a lace top but no pants or undergarments. Intricate and interlocking puzzle tattoos marked her long legs. They formed a maze of winding angles interspaced with crimson eyes with dark blue slit irises. She’d also exposed her arched pale feet. Her dexterous long toes had jet-black painted nails. 

Before Warren could protest, she placed both her soles on his face. Her soles were pink, warm, and tender, the softest thing he’d felt after months of being locked up in the dark confines of the dungeon. There was a pleasant aroma there. Roses, he realized. It was the smell of blooming roses. Because she could levitate, it appeared as if she was seated on an invisible chair while, in actuality, there was nothing there.

She rubbed her feet over his face, from his brow to his chin, even his mussy, unkempt hair. For a time, she kept her luscious soles right over his mouth and nostrils, depriving him of air. Just when he was ready to pass out, she lifted her soles just above his face. All he could see was her face between them.

“I have been very giving so far, haven’t I, my little pet?”

Warren sucked in a breath. His penis had become engorged, and there was little he could do about it.

“Yes…” he admitted. “You have, ma’am.”

The vixen’s smile deepened. “An admission of guilty pleasure. You filthy little cur.”

When she ran her soles over his face this time, Warren stuck out his tongue and dragged it across the plush skin. Her feet were just as succulent as he’d imagined while being suffocated by the very same pair. Drool built up at the corner of his mouth. His tongue passed over her arches to the underside of her toes. When she brought her toes to his lips, he stuck his tongue in the space between them. He licked like an elf possessed, and in many ways, he was. He was deprived of them before he could enjoy the toes for long. The replacement was the smooth ball of her foot. All the while, his rigid cock was tucked into his waistband. Precum dribbled at the lips of his bulging head. 

The she-elf was as flexible as she was seductive. She dragged her right foot across his chest, rubbing his taut nipples with her toes before bringing them up against his cock. Still wet from his saliva, and now coupled with the sweat and grime from his body, her foot’s warmth met the fiery hot blood of his pulsing rod. Her toes gathered about the head, reaching around to brush his mushroom cap. Warren was given no time to relax. The vixen shoved her left foot into his agape mouth. He took in all he could, but she wasn’t satisfied.

“More! More! Eat up like the pathetic little maggot that you are!”

She shoved her foot farther into his mouth, causing him to gag.

Per her style, she relieved him only when he was blue in the face. He gasped for air, only to be slapped by her left foot. The burning pleasure from her right sole on the shaft of his cock was driving him mad. His entire body tingled from the intensity. She knew it before he did, biting her lip in anticipation.

A javelin of ecstasy shot through his body, and warm sperm pumped out of his head. The thick white liquid oozed down her sole and dripped from her long, prehensile toes.

“Do you really think that’s it, little cockroach?” She brought the cum-covered foot to his face next. “Eat up, little maggot. Otherwise, you won’t get anything else to eat.”

The whole story is available as an e-book from various retailers:

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