Part 2 of 4

Usual disclaimer: All characters are of legal age, yada, yada.

--

I struggled against waking, determined to remain in the most vivid dream I had ever experienced, but my body betrayed me and I was thrust into the waking world once more. Reluctantly I opened my eyes, to discover that it was morning, the room bathed in muted gray light leaking around the drawn curtains.

What an incredible dream! I thought to myself as I looked to the ceiling.

I frowned.

That's not my ceiling. I looked to the warm blanket holding me to the comfortable warm bed.

The blanket upon me is not mine, and the bed is definitely not mine.

It took me a moment to realize that I am in Anne's room, in her great bed.

My heart lurched in my chest, memories of the night before flooding my mind, fresh and vibrant.

Oh my god!

It wasn't a dream!

Startled, I sat up, threw the blanket aside, wincing as a tearing sensation burned my skin. My legs were glued shut, as if penance for the events that happened last night. It takes me a moment to realize that the glue is a mixture of dried cum, my own now desiccated orgasmic fluids, and Anne's fine silken sheets all glued together like some kind of perverted paper-mache stuck to my thighs.

I passed out at the height of my orgasm, and the others left me to stew in my juices. Not only had I slept in the wet spot, it dried to me, sticking me to the bed.

Peeling myself free of the sheets, memories of what happened flood back, enveloping my thoughts, bringing forth a familiar warmth from within me, suffusing me with pleasure. God do I ache in all the right places, and I'm probably a bit raw.

I look for the others, but I'm alone in bed.

Stretching, I smiled the smile of a truly satisfied woman. I feel fantastic, energized, ready to go again. I'm extraordinarily horny, wanting even more. Seeing the room empty, I tossed back the blanket, struggling to rise, bewildered that my legs can barely move, and it took a moment to regain my balance.

It's cold in the room, and peering through a narrow slit on the edge of the curtain I can see it snowed a good eight inches last night, and the snow continues to fall. The promised storm is finally upon us, isolating us from the outside world, forcing me to smile. Looking back at the bed, I can see just how tousled the sheets are, the ties still fastened to the headboard. I squirmed, a shudder of a mixture of excitement and arousal seeping through me again.

In the master bathroom, I found a bathrobe and a note written in Anne's elegant hand writing that bordered on calligraphy instructing me to shower and to make sure everything -with the emphasis on the word everything- is washed, then strip the bed linens for wash, don the robe before coming downstairs for breakfast.

I took a long hot shower, peeling the dried cum off off my skin like it was dried glue. Finished, I quickly stripped the bed as instructed, and finally slipped into the robe. With all my tasks complete, I made my way downstairs to find Anne making breakfast.

I'm suddenly confused, wondering if I am still dreaming.

Anne is wearing a perfectly fitted housedress plucked from a 1950's Sears and Roebuck catalog. The vintage cotton print dress is buttoned in the front, and held in place by a thin belt. Over this she wore an equally vintage apron. Anne's hair is done up for the by-gone era. She looks as if she is a housewife plucked from a 1950's sitcom.

Then I remembered Anne bought the dress years ago for a 1950's themed party when she was still married. But why wear a Halloween costume now?

I was really confused.

But at least she's wearing clothes, no matter how odd it may appear.

I suddenly felt self conscious for wearing only a bathrobe until I notice she is wearing true to the era black pantyhose but no shoes. I smiled thinking thoughts I would not have dreamed of even a day ago.

I should be embarrassed, but last night our friendship evolved into something different. What that is, I don't know, and I want to ask questions.

Or is all this just some fantastic dream?

I don't know.

Seeing me, Anne smiled. "Good morning!" She said cheerfully, her face perfectly made up, down to the ruby red lipstick. "Sleep well?"

I nodded sheepishly.

I slept very well indeed.

I'm bewildered by Anne and her outfit, even more so of what happened last night. In the ten years I've known Anne, this is just so all out of character for her. She's just so different than how I knew her.

"You can still walk? Amazing." Anne said, turning her attention back to her breakfast preparations. "Toss the sheets in the washer would you? I have a load ready to go. You looking for Liam? He's waiting for you in the Great Room."

"Waiting?" I asked, more than a little set off balance by the odd normalcy of the moment. She's acting like nothing unusual happened.

Who is this woman?

She's not the Anne I've known for years.

"Pedicure." Anne replied. "You have time. I haven't put the quiche in yet. "

Still puzzled, I tossed the linens into the washer and start it before making my way to the Great Room.

One of the features about Anne's house I've always adored was the huge fireplace in the great room. The house was built in the 1800's and the fireplace was the only thing not to have been repainted or remodeled over the years. For almost two hundred winters, the fireplace provided warmth and comfort for the house, even after the arrival of central heating.

And today is no exception. It's cold and snowy outside, yet with the good size fire in the fireplace, the great room is warm and comfortable. But it's not the fire that captured my attention.

Set before the fire were two antique wing back chairs, as old as time itself.

Kneeling in front of the smaller of the chairs Liam waited, his head pressed to his thighs. He was completely naked.

Stunned, I looked back to Anne in the kitchen.

Anne smiled devilishly, relishing my expression. No, not Anne, I corrected myself, but the Demoness from last night. With a wink, the Demoness said aloud: "Slave, tend to Lady Katarin's needs."

I barely comprehended Anne's words when Liam rose, as fluid and graceful as a dancer. In the stark light of day, his toned body gleamed like a greek statue. His flaccid cock hung without the awe inspiring size of the night before, but still so beautiful. Oh my god what an angelic beauty! Head cast down, Liam motioned to the smaller of the great wing back chairs waiting for me, and knelt before the chair once more.

I took the seat, the fabric of the chair warmed by the fire welcomed me into it's embrace.

I offered a foot to Liam, and he set to work immediately, using a tray of foot pampering tools I recognized as Anne's. It's an odd feeling, as I am self conscious about my feet. Anne and I hadn't gone for a pedicure in months. Liam didn't seem to mind the calloused hooves I called feet. He took his task seriously, first working on the nails, trimming to length, then the cuticles. His touch is pure magic, and he knows what he is doing. The only thing missing is the soaking bath. Unlike the attendants at a spa, he is completely naked, and I rather enjoy watching him work.

I looked up as Anne passed me a hot cup of coffee. "Lady Katarin?"

Anne smiled. "Problem with that?"

"No." I admitted. "I like the sound of it." and I do. Just like from the books I read. Lady Katarin. Just sounding out the name sent a shiver of delight through me. I am Lady Katarin. I thought for a moment. "What of Connie?"

"He's mine now." Anne replied possessively, then her features softened, and she shrugged. "Connie's flight cancelled again, so she's driving north to a friend's house for Christmas."

"Do I even want to know what's going on?" I asked, sipping the coffee. Anne made the best coffee and this morning is no exception.

"I promised I would make him the perfect lover." Anne answered. "What do you think?"

I was stunned. This had been a wild ride so far, a fantasy ripped from one of my favorite dirty books, and I was more than just living it, I was loving everything about it. "A bit rough around the edges yet." I said without any real basis for comparison. It just seemed like something a character from one of the books would say.

Anne giggled as she headed back to the kitchen. "Hear that slave? Lady Katarin thinks you need more work. We'll have to work on that."

Anne returned several minutes later with a large pot of hot water, which Liam used to wash my feet.

Finished grooming my feet, Liam started to massage the soles of my feet. I'm finally warm, and let the robe fall away, revealing my nudity. Liam didn't try to hide his look of hunger, stealing glances, like some starving animal waiting for the moment to be freed of its chains.

A shiver of excitement coursed through me, and my pussy throbbed, aching for his cock, growing wet once more. Not even Carl looked at me with such intense desire. What a fantasy! Better than any dream! I closed my eyes, enjoying the foot massage immensely. Liam is talented, thorough with his massage. This is the best Christmas Eve ever! I could not wait to see what tomorrow brings!

"Lady Katarin." Anne said, taking a seat in the other chair. "I think my eager young slave desires to worship your feet."

I opened my eyes with a sigh. "Worship my feet? What do you mean?"

Anne smiled knowingly as she lit a cigarette.

I'm stunned to realize that Anne is smoking. I've never known her to smoke. Then I remember the cigarette from last night.

A shiver ran up my spine.

Who is this woman?

I followed her gaze. Liam's cock is as large as it was last night, and looked ready to explode.

"Oh." I said. By the light of day, I can see just how big Liam's cock really is, and I am astonished that I had that monster completely within me. A chill raced up my spine, knowing that I could have that wondrous cock within me again.

I looked back to Anne, puzzled. "Does he have a foot fetish?"

Anne winked, snapped the lighter closed. "Slave, do you wish to worship Lady Katarin's feet?"

"Yes Mistress, very much." Liam said, the first words I had heard him speak since lunch yesterday.

"Your call." Anne said to me, exhaling smoke.

"I think I would." I said, curious as to what worshipping my feet meant. I've read about such things, but never experienced it.

"Tell him." Anne said.

"Slave, you may worship my feet." I said.

No sooner were the words out of my mouth, when he had my toes in his mouth, sucking and kissing them. Surprised the hell out of me. I had to hold onto the chair to keep from jumping from it.

Anne laughed softly, tapping her cigarette into a small bowl.

I have never met anyone with a foot fetish. I read about them certainly, but thought it limited to the fringes, the freaks, not this handsome virile example of manhood. In the stories I read, the women described in great detail how awesome it felt to have their toes sucked, something I could not fully understand. Now I did, and damn were those writers right! It was strange, but exciting. I relaxed, enjoying this new sensation. As he caressed my feet with his tongue and lips, I remembered reading how women would use their feet to touch their men, much like using their hands.

I smiled, pressed a foot against his face, and he moaned happily. Inspired, I use my foot to explore his body, making my way to his groin. He sighed in bliss. It was difficult to stroke his hardness, and I thought I was rather ungainly doing so, but he showed no frustration.

"Press your feet together." Anne said from beside me, watching us closely, still smoking her cigarette. "No, press the soles of your feet together. Like that. Perfect. Slave, hold her feet. Good. Now you may worship her feet."

It was an awkward position to hold seated in the chair. But I managed it. I watched in amazement as Liam slid his cock between the arches of my feet, and began to fuck my feet in earnest. My first foot job. It took some work between Liam holding my feet together, and me trying to keep them together, but we managed. It was an absolutely bizarre experience, and it made me grin. I divided my gaze between him fucking my feet, and his expression. His cock seemed larger than I remember, and I had to wonder if I really had that monster inside me? It didn't take long, and I could feel his cock grow ever harder, his grip on my feet tighter. His cock turned almost purple, the veins bulging as he fought the inevitable. His expression was that of painful struggle. Suddenly he stopped, his body frozen. Moments later, he groaned loudly, thrusting roughly once, twice more, and then came hard, long ropes of cum spurting wildly in the air.

I laughed, pleased.

His strokes slowed, and he was done, falling back and releasing me. His body covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Watching him orgasm heightened my arousal, compounding my constant state of arousal now. The urge to wash his cock clean with my tongue was very strong.

Liam grinned, keeping his gaze down. His hardness began to fade, leaving a long rope of cum tying my feet to his cock, and after several tense moments, that connection broke. My feet were covered with his spattered cum. I giggled and wiped my feet on his face and chest, smearing cum on his body.

"Very good Slave." Anne said in approval. "You have pleased Lady Katarin. Clean yourself and ready for breakfast."

Liam withdrew, bowing to us, keeping his head down, and made for the bathroom.

"Ew." I said, after touching the now soiled robe and coming away with my fingers sticky with his love. He came everywhere.

Anne exhaled smoke, smiled. "Comes with the territory."

I shook my head. "Anne, where the hell did all of this come from?"

"His cock." She laughed, passed me a dishtowel.

"No." I shook my head, wiping my fingers on the towel. "This whole dominatrix thing. I mean what the fuck? Just like from one of my books or something."

"You complaining?" She asked.

"Yes, no. I don't know." I shook my head, wiping my feet next. I'd never seen so much cum! "I'm just trying to understand. Until last night, I thought I knew everything about you. Now my best friend is revealed to be the ultimate temptress. God damn it! You seduced me! Me! Your best friend! The things you have done to me! There is no way in hell you learned to do these things in a couple of days. I don't think you're pretending to be a dominatrix, I think you really are one. I never thought this of you, and to say I'm shocked is an understatement. It's a hell of a secret to keep from your best friend."

Then a timer went off in the kitchen. Anne crushed her cigarette in a bowl, rose from her chair. "We'll talk more later. I'll tell you everything then. Sorry your clothes aren't dried yet, so breakfast is clothing optional. Now go get ready for breakfast."

... to be continued...

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