The Foot Worship Party
It all began late last year when I was contacted by a very polite man named Ben. He'd found me through my website and thought I'd be perfect for his project - could we meet? I agreed, and so we met at a Starbucks, where he explained his idea to me.
He wanted to throw a party for foot-fetishists, and he wanted me to attend. He would arrange for a suitable space, interview and approve a handful of models, publicize the event to foot-fetishists, host the party and see to it that things went according to plan…My part in this was to show up, look pretty, be charming, and allow the guests to kiss and caress and worship my feet – at twenty dollars per ten-minute interval. Guests, I might add, who had paid a healthy fee to Ben to attend the party to start with.
This sounded too good to be true. "Really? Just foot worship? No sex, no nudity?"
Ben looked horrified and hastened to reassure me. No sex whatsoever, he said.
I liked Ben - he had a nicely deferential attitude - but I wasn't sanguine about his project. I walked away from that meeting thinking, he's a sweet guy, but he'll never make it happen. The boys aren't gonna go for that set-up. I felt that guys who were into foot-worship would be too inhibited to engage in their fetish in front of other people.
I was wrong. You'd think a girl who used to be a dancer would have seen the parallels in the concept – now that I've done it, I find the arrangement very like doing private dances at a strip club. Both places create an atmosphere where it's permissable to be engaging in relatively intimate behavior in close proximity to other people, and so - it's okay. I mean, swingers clubs and public dungeons do this, too - but that's slightly different. Because of the economic element, I think a strip club is a more accurate analogy.
There was a hand-picked lineup of models – I think there were eight of us at this party – and a very interesting cross-section of guys. Out of between thirty and forty guys, there was a broad range of ages, apparent nationalities/races, and there seemed to be a range of socio-economic backgrounds, too, although that's harder to know for sure. Several of the guys had traveled here from out of town just for the party – in one case, all the way from the East Coast. I was slightly surprised to see several guys who couldn't have been more than twenty-five - I wouldn't have expected them to be at this party.
I arrived at the party Saturday night, checked in with Ben, changed into my sexy outfit, and joined the party. It was being held in a large Victorian-style house, and people were scattered throughout the living room, the hall, and the dining room. It was understood that the second floor bedrooms were for "foot sessions", as was the downstairs den. So the idea was to simply float, chatting and socializing, until you were asked to do a session.
It didn't take long. I had seen that other girls were already coming and going from the private rooms when I arrived. (I came late – the Mistress's privilege.) And after Ben gave me a glowing introduction to the room, it was only a few minutes before one of the men I was chatting with said, "So, would you like to go downstairs?"
Now, I love having my feet kissed and touched – sometimes it's a sexual turn-on, and sometimes it's just very sensually pleasurable, like a good massage. It depends on the guy, the setting, and my mood. But it's always a good thing, and I don't recall ever having said to myself, "Okay, I think I have had enough of that now." However, at the end of the party, I stood up and thought, Well, I think I actually got enough tonight.
I also had an almost embarrassingly large wad of cash stuffed into the waistband of my outfit. (Sexy-girl clothes never have pockets.) At one point I kept trying to go put my money into my purse, but every time one guy finished his session, thanked me and got up, another one would appear. So I'd sit back down on the couch, clean my feet with a paper towel and the tongue-friendly cleanser Ben provided, and start all over again. I didn't have a session with every guy there, but I did get to most of them, and a number of them did two or three sessions with me.
So that was the party I went to Saturday night. It was actually the second foot-party I've been to, but the first one was cut short by an unfortunate visit from the police department. I'll tell you about that some other time…
Oh, this is Ben's site, if you're interested…