Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Learning to Garden – Feet, Foot, Trample, Crush Fetish Erotica
Learning to Garden – A Story by Mistress Venom
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It is a quiet street in a friendly neighbourhood, seated across from the river and a park by the banks. During the week days there is the usual city noise, as cars begin early in the morning to take up parking spots, near enough for a walk to the business district. People gathering briefcases and satchels, setting off for a day at work. As evening falls the residents come home and the city workers cars are long gone. Then it is quiet, much as on the weekend, especially now in the early summer. The winds and rain showers of the spring have begun to clear, the river banks are spotted by pretty beds of flowers. The street is part of the local community group calling themselves the river loop or something similar. Neighbours are friendly and watchful and chat as they pass each other on the way to the corner store, or coming out of their homes.
I have with interest though drawn my attention to this particular street, as just yesterday a “For lease” sign went up, with the usual real estate decals. You may wonder why something as common as a real estate sign would be worth not just interest but to put my thoughts down about it. That is easy to answer, in this small cul-de-sac is one particular home of interest. It is the house right next door to the one looking for a new tenant. Thinking back it was around two months ago that a moving truck pulled up early one morning. Out of the truck hopped two average looking men who started to open the truck and lower the back. Leaning on the back they then waited, as did I to see who would be moving in.
Before long a car pulled up behind the truck, and parked to one side. The driver door opened and out stepped a most unusual looking lady. Clad in oversized dark glasses, and a neat outfit of black pants and a black shirt with a low cut back, her hair fell carelessly over one shoulder. The hair was what I stared at first, it was streaked with bright blue and pink among the shiny black. Her nails had almost claw like nails that I immediately assumed could not be real, not so much the length but the painted patterns on each perfectly matched nail. The heels she wore looked most uncomfortable and matched her hair, a snake skin print with pink, blue and purple tones. Black toenails peeked out from the tip of the shoes. Curious I kept staring, wondering what she was up to.
To my surprise she hauled a large black tote bag, completely oversized and studded with metal pieces and strutted over to the men at the truck. This was going to be the new tenant?! In my own history moving is a tedious business and she was certainly not dressed for such work, nor could she be the landlord, as I have seen him many times. I briefly considered a property manager or someone similar but quickly dismissed the idea, for the same reason I did not believe her a tenant moving in. It was the way she was dressed, the strange coloured hair, the impractical glasses, huge bag, towering coloured high heels and what I had just noticed metal glinting jewellery protruding from above her upper lip and glinting on one side of her face. I may not be up with these modern things, but I believe the youth call such facial decorations, “piercings”.
Stopping with my close inspection, I concentrated instead on the conversation between the three. It was quickly apparent this was indeed the new tenant. She handed over a list, asking three times if it was clearly understood. Then with both men following her they went inside. A quick tour was made of each room as she barked out directions, with no thank you or requests, simply orders. I will not bore you with the rest, it was just a very efficient moving day. The men worked hard and lifted, carried, and arranged. The lady herself settled in the outside courtyard, drinking iced tea and reading from a book. Occasionally one of the men would come to speak to her and she would put the book down and go inside to direct a particular order. In short order all was done and they all left. I did not see her again that day.
The next day the lady and one of the men returned, this time in the car, parking in the garage. The man opening the door of the car and then tried to balance the armful of things she proceeded to hand him. Following her into the house balancing bags, groceries, and a pair of ladies shoes. They went into the house and I followed along to see what this new inhabitant would reveal. Immediately she spoke clearly explaining where to place each item the man carried. Then she left to take a shower telling him to wait against the wall for her return. I waited watching the man who seemed used to this. After putting away the items he had carried, he stood himself in the corner against the wall, head pointed to the ground, a slight slump in his stance, and waited in silence. Curious I wondered at this as he stayed perfectly still for at least an hour before the lady returned.
Still unusually dressed this time in a form fitting black strapless dress, with a mass of torn mesh material making up some kind of skirting. Really it looked like it had been cut and hacked with a child’s scissors. In keeping she wore strange arm stockings, a fish net mesh with holes through which her centre finger extended from, and a pair of shiny black boots with the most massive platforms I had ever seen outside of a circus! Still in a way it was attractive and she appeared fresh and clean her still damp hair pulled back from her face, showing a pair of large eyes, ringed with heavy black kohl.
She seated herself on a leather chair and called the man over, addressing him as “maid”. Quickly he shuffled himself over to her and she proceeded to write out a list of cleaning tasks, adding verbal instructions that sounded of a ridiculous standard. That was the first evening I spent watching, the lady seated either reading or on a portable computer, the man or maid busy cleaning or fetching if she called him. As I watched late that night as She climbed into her luxurious looking bed and removed her night shirt and lay there a strong back displayed, her hair piled on her head, face peaceful on the pillow. I watched as the maid rubbed cream into her back and shoulders until she fell asleep, gentle breathing noises and small sighs audible. The maid then covered his lady with the covers and quietly switched off the bed side light. Then he lay himself away from the bed in the far corner, laying on the floor, he quickly was asleep and I wondered why he chose the floor, wondering if his bed had yet to arrive as the other room had been filled with ladies clothing and such female things.
I was soon to spend most of my travels watching this household, as it was something far different from the usually busy families, or arguing couples. This is why when I saw the real estate sign go up, I wondered what would occur. The lady and her maid had no neighbour on the other side, it was instead a large private wall with an art cottage rarely used on the other side. She enjoyed complete privacy in her courtyard as the previous tenant was an old lady who struggled to see anything even with her glasses. She left with a daughter to move to a residential care home for the elderly. I wondered what would happen with a new neighbour, would he pay attention to this lady? What would he hear if she had her windows or doors open to air the house, what would he think if he saw the maid in his most feminine uniform. All these questions and more ran through my mind that day, but I had to wait a week before the sign was taken down and a cleaning crew prepared the home.
Part 2 – Moving in
The moving day for the new tenant was far more normal than that of his new neighbour. The man appeared to be in his mid twenties, was casually dressed in jeans and a t shirt and sported a pair of eye glasses. This time there was no moving company or furniture truck, as the duplex he had leased came furnished. Instead I watched as he made a few trips in his car, loading and unloading boxes and various items. He quickly set about getting things in place and his first evening cooked a simple meal of pasta before retiring to the bedroom where he read for a short while before quickly falling to sleep. It was a Monday when he moved in, so the new neighbours did not pass each other or have any contact.
Things continued along regular schedules in both households. The lady and her maid occasionally entertaining a couple of females who visited, and the rest of the time absent at work. When they were home alone, often the lady would punish physically her maid. I watched many evenings where he was bound tightly over furniture and given beatings that made me shiver. Other times he massaged her feet which she seemed to enjoy frequently, or brought her down various shoes which she would try on. Sometimes she would secure him to the floor and standing or seated over him use her bare feet, or even heels to step on his body. She seemed to take particular pleasure in placing pressure on his genital region and hovering the high arches of heels over his neck.
Another activity becoming familiar was to see her standing over him with a whip in hand, while he licked with an eager tongue at her heels. Sometimes she would walk in the soil outside or out in the rain and dirt before forcing him down to lick them clean. Other times I watched her observe him removing the many pairs of shoes from racks and cleaning each with his tongue as she teased and laughed before inspecting each pair for a level of shine before they were replaced. This was something I never heard the maid utter one word of complaint about, in fact he seemed most happy to have this lady’s feet covering his face or shoved into his mouth for him to lick and suck. It was really a most unusual situation, but even I was beginning to appreciate the goings on. Her feet were always beautiful soft in appearance and the toenails painted. I wondered what it would feel like to have her stand on me like that, I was less sure though of whether I would want to lick clean the shoes she wore out. Still I began to wish it was something I could experience at least once.
That week as the weekend drew near, while the new neighbour was seated alone at his dining table drinking a beer and working a crossword puzzle, more unusual happenings were just across from his window. Behind the long drawn curtains the lady had laid out her maid once more on the floor this time in the kitchen on the tiles. She seemed excited and was chattering away to the maid who quietly replied. She came back to the front hallway where the maid had left a large box. Picking it up she returned with it to the kitchen. Opening the box I could see a huge layered and decorated chocolate cake. I began to wonder if it was possible to eat laying face up on the floor with arms tied to ones thighs. As I thought about this the lady removed her heels of the day, this pair simple black sandals with a lower heels. She then carefully drew down her stockings and placed both the shoes and stockings to one side.
Peering down at the large cake, she began to discuss exactly what she should do, not waiting or expecting an answer from the maid. Then as she often did, she had made up her mind and removed the cake from the box, sliding it out on to the middle of the floor. She fetched a chair and seated herself on it, swinging her feet and legs back and forth. Then with her left foot, she dabbed a toe against the cake, knocking off a cherry. Quickly she dropped her foot and juice spurted out as she flattened it under her bare foot. The juice hit the maid who was nude except for a pair of white female panties, which was not the most attractive site for me. Now she considered the cake again and held both her feet above the cake, head titled to the side in concentration.
Before I knew it she had plunged her feet into the cake, letting out a delicious squeal and exclamation that it was cold. She lifted up her feet and inspected them, covered in chocolate they were, the brown a sharp contrast to her pale skin. Back into the cake went one foot wriggling toes exploring the cake, which pushed up from between her slightly splayed toes. That seemed to be enough and she stood up, pushing the chair out of the way. She then began to decimate the cake trampling, and sliding in the chocolate mess until only a third of the original cake was still somewhat in tack. By now chocolate flecks covered the cabinets, walls, and was working its way in smudges up her legs. She took the remaining cake and placed it on the chest of the almost nude maid. Then she began to smear and rub it into his body all with her chocolate covered feet. By the end she sat back down and using her very toes and feet together picked up pieces of mushed sponge forcing them into the maids mouth. This continued for some time and until the maid answered finally that he could consume no more. This upset our lady and I was shocked as she lifted up her skirt and urinated on him!! Then that was it she left after untying his hands and went to shower. The maid dutifully scrubbed and cleaned till no sign of the mess was left.