Cam's Confession

She told me to crawl to her, so over I went, on all-fours. On my knees, its not easy, but I'd crawl over hot coals for her, so I went, determined.

She told me to kneel up.  She took each wrist gently and wrapped a thick leather cuff round it.  No need for locks; she knows I'm not going to take them off without being told to.  Then she linked them together with the bolt snap.

She threw the pot of skin lotion at me. "Rub," she ordered, "and don't look at me."

I scrambled for the pot as it fell clumsily between my cuffed hands.  Picking it up I struggled with the lid, and scooped out some of the soft, white cream.  I warmed it in my hands before applying it to her feet.  Smearing it all over and rubbing it deeply into her skin, working the arch of her feet, between and around and along each toe.

For what felt like hours, kneeling up, my muscles spasming and my knees aching for relief.  I tried shifting position, but just got a slap. "Stay still and stop moaning!"  The second time, I got a gag in my mouth for my intransigence.  I kept rubbing, over and over, working into her feet.

It was agony on my legs and knees, but I had to carry on serving her, my bound hands working over her feet, while she lounged on the couch, luxuriating in the service I was giving.

Eventually, she tired of the attention being solely on her feet.  She stopped me, pulled the gag out of my mouth, and pushed me down to get to work somewhere else...