Use me, trample me, make me your foot warmer!

It has been a bit chilly at night recently.

When it's just my Mistress Wife and me at home, I am naked, wearing only her collar. Mistress likes watching me naked, as I run around doing my house chores. She says I'm much more manageable when I am either naked or dressed in frilly girl lingerie. I don't know if that's really true, but I do know that being naked around my fully dressed Wife feels right to me.

Last night, after I had finished most of what she had assigned me for the day, Mistress walked into the room and said,

“slaveboy, I need a hot washcloth, then a foot rub. Then, you are to come to bed and be my heater.”

“Yes, Ma'am!” I responded and put one of the soft face towels under running hot water as I went into her bedroom to turn down the sheets, lower the lights, and to set up the hand lotion where she expects it to be. After the room was set up the way she liked it, I went back and retrieved the (now very hot) face towel and wrung it out. I went back into the bedroom and knelt in my position, waiting for her to join me.

“What a good boy,” she warmly cooed as she entered her bedroom a minute later. Hearing her pleased voice made my already hard cock twitch. I am so hopelessly in lust with her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and I gave her the hot washcloth. She wiped her face, making moaning noises of pleasure, then she threw the warm wet towel on my shoulder. I placed the wet towel to the side and I grabbed the bottle of hand lotion, starting to rub the lotion into her feet.

I love giving my Wife foot rubs. In truth, I love doing anything for her that involves touching her body: foot rubs, backrubs, clipping her toenails, literally anything.

I have learned that being her slaveboy means that my emotions are transparent to her. It's not just the physical nakedness that creates a certain obvious transparency (there is no way for me to hide my arousal); it's also the mental and emotional vulnerability, the openness that I crave and that my Owner/Wife demands.

As I was rubbing her feet, making sure to massage her heel area, her in-step, and letting my hands do their magic, I was also breathing heavier, feeling more and more aroused, and dropping further into feeling so good at just being used in this way. She looked at me very intently and smiled warmly, saying “You love doing this so much, don't you? Will you ever tire of this?”

“I don't think I ever will, Mistress.” I thought back to how this routine has evolved over time, but the rituals are essentially the same. I love the consistency, and each time I go through it, I feel the same feelings, sometimes with greater intensity. The feelings are variations of warmth, caring, being loved, lust, and above all, a delicious sense of surrender in the here and now. This heady mixture is an everyday experience for me and far surpasses anything I ever felt in any “equal relationship.”

When I was done with her feet, she crawled into the bed and just looked at me for a second, kneeling by the side. She patted the bed, which was my signal to hop on.

“My feet are cold, slaveboy. Here's what you're going to do. I want you to crawl under the covers, all the way to the edge of the bottom of the bed, and you will be my foot warmer.”

Her bed is a California King bed and I was surprised to see that I pretty much fit sideways at the bottom few inches of the bed. I am a petite man and my Mistress is taller than me.

If you can imagine it, I was under a sheet, thin blanket and large down blanket, sideways, across the bottom of the bed. She was laying in the bed normally, stabbing her freezing cold feet into my crotch, laying them across my very hard cock.

“That feels good,” she would say as she pushed her sole into my naked and shaved pubic region, or she moved her other foot onto my stomach. She kept pushing and prodding my body with her feet as I lovingly held her toes with my hands and moaned in absolute blissful pleasure at so obviously being used in such a simple way.

After about fifteen minutes, her feet were toasty warm and she announced, “Okay, slave. Get back up here and cuddle me,”

“Do I have to, Mistress? Can't I sleep like this at your feet all night?” I was still swimming in my feelings of objectification and feeling so wonderfully used, and reliving her moans of pleasure at digging her feet into me.

She just laughed and promised that she would do this again sometime and maybe I could be her foot-warmer for a few hour nap at some later point. I crawled back up and spooned her from behind. She wiggled her ass into my rock hard penis, telling me that I made a nice foot warmer, and slowly we fell asleep together.