Claiming Katy Ch. 09

–Dr Isabella Pacetti's Notes:

To recap: Sophie has subjected Katy to a session of harsh caning and brutal verbal humiliation, and for the first time she has allowed Mrs Alderney to watch. Katy's body is now quite liberally marked, and Sophie has declared that Katy will not be touched – either for pain or pleasure – for the rest of the week. Katy must also remain silent and wear her dirty knickers as a gag. Katy is besotted with Sophie like never before.

–Katy's Statement:

I slept on my front that night. I pushed the sheets off the bed and lay naked except for the fresh pair of knickers. I had carefully applied cream to the burning marks crossing my skin, but still they throbbed with heat. Even when I was asleep I felt them throb, and the sensation invaded my dreams, where each throb became a fresh blow from a burning whip. And so I was flogged by two mistresses all night.

My morning bathing was slow and painful, and when I pulled on the clean dress the soft fabric seemed scratchy and harsh. I took off my knickers, folded them carefully and took them down to the kitchen with me.

When I took the breakfast tray through to the office I put the knickers on a plate by themselves. As an afterthought I put another plate on top by way of a lid.

I entered the office and saw Mrs Alderney dressed to go out. Sophie was sitting on the edge of her desk, dressed in trousers, fitted blouse and high heels similar to the previous night, perhaps to remind me or to tease me.

I had obviously interrupted a conversation and they turned to look at me.

"You're late," said Mrs Alderney. "And I'm going out today, which I think you knew. Don't prepare me any meals, thank you." She nodded at Sophie and walked toward the door, smiling at my tray and stroking my hair as she passed. As she left the room she murmured "Stupid bitch," and Sophie laughed. I smiled too.

Sophie beckoned to me with a grin and indicated that I should put the tray on her desk. She saw the two plates and lifted the top one. She shook her head.

"That's disgusting. I think from this evening you'll bring me the fresh pair and take off the old pair in front of me. That's just disgusting."

She stood and reached around to untie my gag. She smirked and murmured "Stupid fucking bitch." I giggled. The old gag was removed and tossed onto the floor. She held my cheek and kissed my mouth softly. "Good morning, bitch. Did you sleep well?"

I nodded, not sure if I was allowed to speak. She smiled, possibly in approval. The new gag was picked up with fingertips and carefully eased between my unresisting lips, then tied as before. Sophie gave me another smile, a 'Good girl', and then gently pushed me away.

–

By Saturday morning, I had been wearing knickers in my mouth for four days and nights, and the sensation had come to feel fairly natural. My caning scars were easing, the atmosphere between Madame and Miss Sophie was, to my utter delight, warm and friendly, and Sophie smiled at me a lot, and told me I was a Good Girl.

I was grateful to be untouched for a few days. I felt more emotionally strong every day, and physically healthier. And something had happened to me. I felt a new depth of submission, a new capacity to obey, and a new yearning to be degraded. I wondered if Sophie could see any of this.

By Saturday morning I was horny. Each morning and evening I went through the ritual of having my gag replaced, of dressing and undressing for Sophie, and now I desperately wanted her. But she seemed content to smile and kiss me and send me on my way.

On Saturday morning Mrs Alderney was out early and Sophie was dressed for the gym. She removed my gag and tossed it on the office floor as usual.

I eased off my knickers, presented them, and waited for them to be put in my mouth. When they were in place I gazed at Sophie, longing for something more.

"Pick those up and go do your chores. Do you have a lot to do today?"

I thought for a moment as I picked up the sodden knickers with my fingertips. I shrugged and shook my head.

Sophie sat back on her desk and kicked one of her feet back and forth, smiling at me. "If you were unusually quick and efficient – by which I mean at all quick and efficient – do you think you could be done by lunchtime?"

I thought about it. I didn't know how efficient I could be, but I could easily put off some jobs until Sunday. I nodded.

"Good girl. Bring my lunch down to the cellar at twelve. You're not having any lunch today. If you behave you might be having supper. Off you go, bitch."

–

Laundry, vacuuming, polishing...

I worked furiously, much more than I normally would on a weekend morning. Not because I wanted to get my chores out of the way: most could easily wait for a day. I simply had to keep myself occupied, to keep my nerves smothered. I wasn't afraid as such... apart from anything else, Sophie had promised I would receive no physical punishment for a week. But still, the image of Miss Sophie was burning in my mind at all times, and the idea of being alone with her at all, let alone in the cellar, was deeply intimidating.

Sophie's lunch was a light chicken salad and – as it was the weekend – a glass of chilled white wine. I was not hungry, my anxiety made me feel a little sick, so I was happy not to be eating.

My feet felt the cold of the stone steps as I pattered down to the cellar and I pushed open the door with my shoulder. All of the lights were on inside and Sophie was seated on the Throne, dressed in her jogging clothes. She seemed to be oblivious to my arrival, engrossed as she was in a paperback book open on her lap. However, without looking up she raised a hand and silently beckoned to me. I crossed the cellar noiselessly and set down the plate and glass beside the Throne.

She still did not look up, so I cleared my throat to speak. Before I said a word, Sophie raised her hand again and pointed to the blackboard. The writing was still there from my lesson:

IT IS AGREED THAT KATY IS A:

DIRTY FOOT-LICKER

PATHETIC WHORE

HORNY DRIPPING SLUT

STICKY LITTLE CUNT-SUCKER

STUPID FUCKING BITCH

My stomach lurched to read the words, but now I saw that a sheet of printed paper was taped to the board. Crossing the floor and leaning close to it, I saw that it appeared to be a restaurant menu, made on an office computer. I read it with a growing surge of excitement.

Katy's Lunchtime A La Carte Menu

(Self Service)

Starter:

Dress removed, folded and placed by the door.

Knickers (gagging) removed from mouth and placed beside dress.

Knickers (worn normally) not to be removed.

Hands cuffed behind back, securely.

I resisted the urge to read further, and scampered to the door. I pulled off my dress, folded it carefully and placed it squarely next to the door frame. I looked down at my thighs and saw the pink marks criss-crossing my flesh, already fading away. I fumbled with the knot securing my gag, and finally loosened it enough to remove the knickers from my mouth. Flexing my jaw and licking my lips, I carefully flattened and folded the knickers and placed them reverently beside my dress. I ran to a rack, feeling my small breasts bobbing gently, and selected a shining pair of chrome handcuffs. I squirmed awkwardly with them for a minute and finally closed them around my wrists, behind my back.

Sophie was still ignoring me as I scuttled to the Throne and placed the handcuff keys carefully beside her salad. I returned to the menu, a little breathless and feeling hot, but almost dancing with strange excitement.

Main Course:

Miss Sophie's shoes removed, using mouth only.

Miss Sophie's socks removed as above.

Kneel at Miss Sophie's feet with mouth open.

Mouth remains open, body remains motionless, Katy remains silent.

Dessert:

Dirty Foot-Licker's Delight.

My lips were spread in a foolish grin as I dropped to my knees and shuffled over to Sophie's feet. She had begun to nibble at her salad, but otherwise appeared to be fully engrossed in her book. I could now see the cover of the book, and recognised it as one of a set of porn novels from the shelves in the corner of the cellar. I had never looked closely at them, but I knew they were a series, all with the titles written in red on a black panel on a white spine. That was the extent to which I had examined them in the past. Now I could see that the book had a photograph on the cover, although I couldn't make out the image. The book was called 'Bought & Stolen'. Suddenly, seeing Miss Sophie reading it, the book fascinated me.

However, more fascinating and compelling were the feet in front of me, currently hidden by slim white tennis shoes. I almost laughed with pleasure as I leaned forward and closed my teeth over the first shoelace.

Removing the shoes proved more complicated than I first expected. The laces were no trouble, and Sophie at least kept her feet off the floor and where they could be reached, but I couldn't find a way to pull them off without biting the clean, new fabric. This didn't upset me too much, as I had an excuse to push my lips and even my tongue over, around and inside the shoes, tasting them and enjoying the warm scent. Finally I worked out I could open my mouth wide, grip the width of the heel between my teeth, and pull. I soon dislodged the shoes this way, and placed them neatly to one side.

The socks were the short, sporty kind that didn't even cover the ankle – utterly captivating to a little pervert like me – which meant they didn't present much trouble. A little gentle nibbling from the heels down the soles loosened the material and allowed me to suck them from Sophie's toes. I took my time and made longer work of it than necessary. I licked more than I needed to and pushed my face against the warm fabric, and guiltily drew indulgent, deep breaths. The scent was beautiful: mostly rubber and fabric conditioner, but I loved it. I carefully laid the socks beside the shoes.

Now my vision was filled by Sophie's strong, slender feet. I knelt very still, with my mouth open, and my eyes watching hungrily. And suddenly I really was hungry. I could feel my mouth begin to water.

Sophie had finished her salad and now had half a glass of wine perched on the arm of the Throne. She was frowning as she examined her bookmark, a small white piece of card. After a moment she flicked backwards through the book and spoke absently, almost to herself.

"It's called 'Bought & Stolen', an erotic romance dealing with the steamier aspects of international sex-trafficking, prostitution and criminal gangs." She chuckled and shook her head. "Well, something like that. Have you read it?"

She held up the book so that I could now see that the cover photograph was of a naked woman, facing away from the camera and hugging herself. She was sitting on the floor and a chain was attached to her ankle by a cruel black shackle. The chain snaked out of picture.

My mouth still wide open, I shook my head.

"No? Are you sure? No... well, it's not a literary classic, but it's not bad. It's best when you speed-read the 'plot' bits and linger over the kinky sex. That stuff's rather good."

She turned the pages until she found her place and continued reading. She smiled. "Ooh, a girl-girl scene. Nice."

She fell silent for a while, a faint smile on her lips as she read. After a minute the silence was broken by a tiny grumble from my stomach. Sophie looked up, surprised, and then grinned as she looked closer.

"Are you drooling, Katy?"

As I nodded, a trickle of saliva escaped my lips and ran swiftly down my chin and onto my throat. My stomach made the sound again. I smiled nervously.

Sophie laughed gently. "Stupid fucking bitch. Oh well, if you're that desperate I suppose you could have a taste. Okay, you'll keep your legs tight together and you'll stay on your knees, but otherwise you can do what you want. As long as you don't interrupt my reading."

I leapt, closing my mouth over Sophie's left heel. The flesh was firm and hot and I sucked hard, closing my eyes and sighing. Sophie was reading again, but I wasn't interested in anything beyond that foot. I pushed my tongue against the heel and licked slowly up the instep to the perfectly sculpted toes. Now I licked across, pulling my tongue over each in turn, pushing it firmly into the gaps between. I began to suck and lick and nibble ecstatically, trying to fit as much as possible into my mouth.

I suddenly realised the foot was very wet, and smelled and tasted like my own mouth. I was appalled. This perfect work of art was soiled by my filth. I resisted the urge to apologise and tried to dry the skin, rubbing with my face and my hair. I sat back a little and blew, gently and reverentially on the sole of the foot. Only when Sophie wriggled her toes did I remember that there was a beautiful, perfect person attached to this object of desire, and I felt ashamed. To objectify Miss Sophie in that way, to satisfy my own craving, to show such disrespect...

I looked up with terrified eyes, to see if Sophie was angry. But she was reading, smiling slightly and running her finger over her lips.

I turned my attention to the right foot, which was now resting on the floor. This time I would behave appropriately. I lowered my face and pecked a kiss on a toe. I kissed each in turn with soft, dry lips, and then drew back. I looked for a long time, admiring and licking my lips. I would see a contour or feature that I found particularly beautiful and I would bob my head down and kiss that spot.

After a while I lay down on my side and rested my face on the floor so that my lips just barely touched the side of the foot. I sighed and relaxed.

Sophie shifted in her seat, parting her knees a little and placing both feet on the floor. As she moved she lifted her right foot and brought it down firmly on my face. Now I was pinned by the right foot and my vision was dominated by the left. If I could have moved an inch, I could have kissed the left foot. But I couldn't move. I didn't much want to move.

"Oh, Katy. You were told to stay on your knees, weren't you?"

I moaned and squirmed until I was on my back, knees pressed together and legs tucked under me, head twisted to the side and still pinned by the foot. Suddenly both feet moved, rolling my head to face upward, and now both feet were placed firmly on my face, just as they were when I had been tied to Sophie's bed.

I whimpered and my tongue strained to lap at the edges of the feet. My breathing was shallow and fluttered with little whines. Hidden behind my back, my bound hands gripped the waistband of my knickers and gently pulled, tightening the fabric between my legs and shifting it teasingly against my sensitive, aching pussy.

After a minute the feet lifted, then dropped either side of my head. I lay still, breathing hard and feeling dizzy. I slowly sat up, resumed my kneeling position and looked down at the feet. For the first time I was distracted by what Sophie was doing. Her hand was inside the waistband of her jogging pants. I could see it moving. It transfixed me. I spoke without thinking.

"I could do that."

"What's that, bitch?" She wasn't paying me much attention, still engrossed in her book, and spoke in a distant, musing voice.

"Your... I could do that for you... what you're doing... I mean... may I?"

Sophie withdrew her hand, used the little finger to turn a page, and then eased it back into her pants. "I see. How dare you speak to me when I'm reading, foot-licker?" She spoke in same distant voice, and didn't look up from her page. "Lower your face please, bitch."

I hung my head, ashamed, and said "I'm sorry, Miss Sophie."

Sophie's leg moved sharply and the top of her right foot hit my cheek with a loud slap. I whimpered in shock and turned away from the blow. After a moment I returned to the same pose, and my face was kicked again. I risked a glance up and saw that she had placed the book on the arm of the Throne and was watching me icily.

Another kick, and I apologised again. It hurt and I felt tears sting my eyes. The next kick was harder and it took me a moment to recover my pose.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Katy," Sophie said with an exasperated sigh. She kicked me once again. I looked up at her through a wet blur, and I realised why she was annoyed.

"I'm so stupid. I won't speak again. I'm sorry."

She nodded, satisfied, and gave me one last kick. I quickly placed myself close enough for her to do it again, but now her toes gently stroked my hair.

"Yes, you're incredibly stupid. I know it's not disobedience, or anything deliberate. So you can only be utterly brainless. You shouldn't speak when you've been told not to, Katy. Especially not this week. But thank you for the offer."

She was teasing me. Teasing me while she petted me with her foot. My knickers were damp. I just looked up at her, hardly breathing.

"Oh, okay, Katy. Let's figure something out." She stood up, picking up her book and the wine. "I think you'd better run and fetch a blindfold."

I struggled to my feet and scampered across the room to a rack where hoods and blindfolds hung. I picked up a leather mask in my teeth and turned back to Sophie. She was now reclining on the upholstery of the bed in the centre of the room, and she had removed her jogging pants, displaying a pair of sporty briefs. I approached slowly, with the mask between my teeth. I took my time, my eyes gorging on the image of Miss Sophie's thighs, her long legs and the soft, tight briefs. I knew I would be blind shortly, and I wanted to take in as much as I could while I was permitted.

"Come on, don't dawdle," said Sophie, not unkindly. "I'm trying to read. Give me that." She held out her hand for the blindfold, took it, and waited for me to lower my head so that it could be fixed in place.

I sighed as the soft leather encased my eyes and my brow. The world was suddenly dark, and suddenly very hot. I stood upright and felt myself swaying, waiting. I heard soft swishing and squeaking and realised Sophie was slipping out of her briefs and lying back, naked from the waist down. Then the sound of a book flipping open, and then Sophie's voice, soft and clear in the silent room.

"No more noise from you. I don't want to see you anywhere above my waist. Don't interrupt my reading again, but otherwise you may do whatever you think appropriate."

I shuffled forward until my legs bumped against the upholstery of the bed. I moved awkwardly until I was at its foot and climbed up where I thought there was space for me. I had to hook my thigh onto the high surface and wriggle my body up. In doing so I rolled up against one of Sophie's legs and foot, and I took the chance to briefly, fleetingly brush the side of my breast against her toes as I struggled clumsily up onto my knees. I hoped it seemed accidental. I barely entertained the idea of accidentally allowing my hot, yearning pussy to tap against those same toes, before dismissing the idea as extremely dangerous. Sophie would not be fooled.

Instead, I lowered my face humbly, curling up at the foot of the bench, and pressed my lips against her left foot. I kissed softly and sought blindly for the right foot, finding it at an unexpected angle, and kissing softly once again. I wondered how long I was allowed to continue like this. Probably I would be permitted to worship Sophie's feet for as long as I wanted, but this would deny me time at her pussy. I started moving.

I rested my face against a soft, warm instep and slid it slowly up, over the hard, silky ankle, and onto the warmth of a calf muscle. I squirmed along the squeaking leather, pecking tentative kisses on the skin of Sophie's legs. They were surprisingly soft and yielding, and I realised I had been expecting something like chiselled, polished marble. I smiled at my foolishness and ventured a little further until a new sensation captivated me.