- Text Size +

    “I’m not your little princess anymore, dad! I’m the Queen, remember?” Molly said.

    “I’m sorry, Prin- Queen,” her father said meekly.

    “That’s the second time this week! Okay, I think it’s time you did the thing again. You know what I’m talking about.”

    “I’m sor-”

    “Go!”

    Molly’s dad shuffled quickly through the house, his daughter marching behind her. They went downstairs and into the utility room. It was more like a large closet, bare concrete floor and walls, shelves full of various household cleaning materials and other junk.

    “Put it on,” Molly scolded.

    Her father quickly stripped down to his underwear and socks and grabbed the leather harness and gimp mask off the shelf. He put the straps around his wrists and held them together. There was a short chain connecting the bracelet to a collar that went around his neck, giving him limited arm movement. Lastly he pulled the gimp mask over his head, made sure the eye holes let him see, and moved the red ball gag into position in his mouth. He sank to his knees, facing the opposite wall.

    “Mom said to keep an eye on you, so everything is still the same around here,” Molly said as she tightened all the straps. The leather creaked and her dad gagged slightly as the ball was pulled further back against his mouth. Then she grabbed a flail off the shelf and shoved it into his hands. “I’m going out to the forest. You know what to do,” Molly said. She pulled a small chain dangling above them which turned on a bare lightbulb, and then closed and locked the door behind her.

    Molly’s father whipped himself, groaning at the pain and biting into the gag. In the dim pool of light, he stared a dusty crown that sat amongst a pile of extension cords up on a shelf. It had been impressive once, belonging to a king perhaps, or a prince.

    He whipped himself again, and this time his groan sounded more like a croak.

 

***

 

    “Oooh, this is nice,” Molly said, dipping her bare feet into the steamy water. The freckled teen sat on a nice mossy rock at the hot springs deep in her forest. She wore a baggy sweater and skimpy swim shorts. She had stuffed her socks into her sneakers beside her, and rested her arms on her knees. A bowl had formed naturally in the rock and it was the perfect place for the forest folk to bathe her feet and give her a pedicure. Molly sighed and leaned back, her red hair falling about her shoulders as she enjoyed the night. The faeries and leprechauns fussed around her, preparing. Glowing mushrooms illuminated the clearing in a soft bluish light, and the sounds of the woods rustled around her, full of life. She could see stars up through the canopy of trees.

    “Enjoying yourself, my Queen?” Flannigan asked from down beside her. He wore a little green petticoat with tights and a hat. His hair was brown and longish and his beard was bristly.

    “Oh yeah,” Molly said to her royal advisor.

    “Good, good.” He motioned to the crew, and they got to work. Ten little faeries and leprechauns jumped into the basin with her feet, naked except for cloths tied around their private areas. They had sponges and buckets of lilac soap, and started lathering her, the faeries attacking the toes and the leprechauns waist deep in the water at her heels.
 Molly giggled. “It tickles!

    Flannigan nodded and smiled, rocking up and down on his toes with his hands crossed in front of him, overseeing their efforts.

    Molly said suddenly, “Flanny, get in there and help them.”

    His smile faded and he froze. “Oh, no I don’t think so my Lady. I should supervise them.”

    “I want you to. Come on,” she said, grinning.

    “I uh, I don’t have a swimsuit,” he said.

    “Flanny,” Molly said, putting on a mock frown and lowering her voice, “I’m your Queen and I order you to.”

    “But-”

    She leaned down over him and ordered: “Take off your clothes and get in there!”

    “Y-Yes my Queen,” Flannigan said, hopping on one foot and pulling his boots off. He stripped down, revealing his pot belly, skinny legs, and underwear.

    “All your clothes.”

    “But uh... O-okay.” Covering his privates with his hands, he daintily dropped his underwear on the pile of clothes and crab-walked into the steamy, soapy pool.

    “Yes, that’s better,” Molly said, leaning back again. “Give him a sponge.”

    Someone handed Flannigan one and he awkwardly started scrubbing at her giant foot with one hand, his other one covering himself still, even though he was mostly hidden by bubbles already.

    Molly looked down on him with her head tilted back lazily, one brow raised and a soft smirk on her lips. Eventually she leaned forward, resting on her knees again. “Flanny, are you shy?” she asked, mischievously.

    Flannigan started to blush, but kept working.

    “Awww,” Molly continued, “Are you afraid I’ll see your pee-pee?” She giggled. “Come on then, lets see it.”

    Her order didn’t elicit a response.

    “Flaaannny,” she said. “Don’t make me.”

    Still nothing. The other spirits had stopped working to look. He was the only one still working in the soap suds at the base of her foot.

    “Okay, that’s it,” Molly said, reaching down her big hand and grabbing up the little man. “Let’s see what you - oh!” As she wiped away the suds she revealed his tiny erect penis.

    The man in her hand bowed his head, his face flushed deeply, exposed.

    “Oh my God,” Molly said, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. “Wow. Is it… is it my feet, or are you always like this?”

    The forest spirits giggled. Flannigan said nothing.

    “No, it is my feet, isn’t it? You’re a little foot-perv, aren’t you Flanny?” she said, grinning. “Now, don’t worry, Flanny. I understand,” Molly said in a slow, patronizing tone. “You can’t resist my feet. It’s okay. You just can’t help it because you’re a pervert. I know it’s not your fault. But we’re going to have to do something about it, okay? I know you’re my big-shot advisor and everything, but I’m going to have to punish you. All right?” She pursed her lips.

    The faeries tittered and zipped around in the air, while the other leprechauns grinned and joked behind their hands.

    Flannigan started wriggling, trying to escape her hand, but she squeezed him firm. “Please, my Lady-”

    “Oh no, you don’t get away from me,” she said. “Stop squirming, you’re all slippery. Now, what shall your punishment be?” She put a finger on her chin and stared up at the trees for a while he struggled in her other hand. “Got it. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You, are going to finish bathing my feet, by yourself. Right, Flanny? But here’s the catch: No funny business from you. If I catch you getting off on my feet, there will be further punishment. I mean it. Understand?”

    Flannigan stopped writhing, and eventually nodded.

    “Good. Okay,” Molly said, and placed him gently back in the pool. “Get to it. And remember, I’m watching you. No naughtiness, capiche?”

    The leprechaun nodded sullenly, and slowly picked up a sponge one of the faeries threw at him.

    “Mmm,” Molly said, once more leaning back and enjoying herself. The other forest folk now lazed comfortably on a nearby rock and watched the show.

    After Flannigan had finished both her heels and had done all he could reach, Molly bent her leg at the hip, laying her foot on it’s side in the water. He started working his way along her sole.

    “You’ll have to work harder than that, Flanny. Both hands now, come on.”

    Flannigan hesitated. Blushing, he started using both hands to scrub at her sole, revealing his still erect penis and eliciting a few giggles from the crowd.

    Molly pretended not to notice and stretched lazily, bending her other leg down. Now she had him between the soles of her feet, and she slowly pressed them together. The little man jumped when he felt the foot press against his back, but kept working. Smiling, Molly then yawned and started rubbing her feet together, slowly. Flannigan struggled to hold on, but was soon rolled between her soles, spinning this back and forth.

    “Oops, you dropped your sponge,” Molly said. “Better grab it.”

    Flannigan tried, and as he was spinning he fell and dropped below the water soapy water. His arms flailed above the surface, and Molly shook with silent laughter. After a while his hand could be seen clutching a sponge. His face finally surfaced, beard full of bubbles, and he drew in a big desperate breath before being churned under again.

    Molly held her stomach and threw her head back, holding back laughter. Soon she settled and sighed happily. She pressed her feet together firmly and lifted them out of the water, resting back on her elbows and holding him up, dripping above her. She squeezed him a bit, and water spat out his mouth like a little fountain. As she let off, he gasped for breath between her soles.

    Molly said, “I don’t feel you washing?”

    The leprechaun, still recovering, weakly started pawing at the sole that held him in place.

    “That’s better,” she said. “Keep going.” As he continued, she started to rub her feet together again, slowly and softly up and down over his slippery little body.

    “Flanny,” Molly said, pouting, “You’re not supposed to be naughty, remember?” The patronizing tone came back.

    Flannigan gritted his teeth.

    “I can feel you down there,” she continued. “You pervert. That’s not good, you better not cum.” She rubbed the pad of her foot down his body, and pressed her big toe lightly into his face, forcing his head sideways. Then she slid lower, and paused against his dick. She bent her toe slightly, making him gasp, and held it there for a moment longer. Then slowly she ran it up his body, and then down again. She rubbed him between her feet faster, firmly. His mouth gaped open as his body start to struggle, overwhelmed.

    “Don’t do it Flanny, you pervert,” Molly said to him. “I know you want to. Don’t cum you naughty little- oops, there it is!” Flannigan convulsed and spurted his load against her sole as she continued to rub her feet together, covering him in soapy cum. Finally she stopped, his little chest heaving against her sole. She sat up and lowered her feet to the ground softly. When she pulled them apart, strings of white frothy goo hung from her soles and his body, his face completely covered in the bubbly stuff. He coughed, dislodging some of it and revealing his tiny gasping mouth. Molly bent forward between her legs, resting her elbows on the ground on either side of him and her cheeks in her palms, smiling down on him as he recovered.

    He wiped some of the froth from himself and tried to sit up.

    “Was that fun, Flanny?” she asked.

    He coughed again.

    “I had fun. I’m not sorry,” Molly said. She picked him up and dunked him in the warm basin, washing him off. Then she held him up, sputtering. “Here, I’ll get you a towel,” she said, and reached for a sock from her sneakers. She rubbed it all over him roughly, until his hair and beard started to frizz out. “There,” she said, “better. Now, are you ready for your punishment?” she said.

    “Please,” he wheezed, “My Quee-”

    She opened up the sock and dropped him inside. “You can live in there for a few days and think about what you’ve done, okay?” She tied the end off and dropped it on top of her shoe. Then she slipped her feet back into the water and sighed contentedly. The forest folk buzzed to attention, holding little pumice stones and nail polish. “Okay guys, you can continue.”

 

You must login (register) to review.