“Morgan,” I cried out but with the tone of a mother scolding her child. “Open the gate this isn’t funny…” I felt my neck catching cold and my calves and feet freezing. Cold night, very cold. “Morgan…” I shouted.
She couldn’t do this to me. As I got silent, fearing that some of the neighbors would hear the shouting, the gut-wrenching fear took hold of me. There was absolutely nothing forcing her to let me in. And I knew that that fuck wouldn’t stand up for me. She could keep me here until tomorrow …hell, she could never let me in if she wanted.
Her message was loud and clear. She could have me out of my house, this easily. I rubbed my palms on my upper body, as I felt hot tears rolling down my cold cheek as I looked at my home from the outside. It wasn’t even my house anymore. If it was I wouldn’t be the one standing outside its gate would I. I started mobbing silently. The only place I could go to was my mother’s, and to reach there I had to walk like this, in my pajamas, in my slippers, through the cold, for half an hour to the bus station, and I’d have to get myself a free ticket somehow. Beg for money or something. God. “Morgaaaan.” I cried, then in a moment of temporary madness grabbed the gate’s bars and shook them forward and backward, hearing the sound of clanking steel erupt through the whole neighborhood. “Open the fucking gate…”
Hearing the sound of salvation, I skiped to the intercom as soon as I’d heard its noise. “Morgan…you there,” I sniffled with hope.
“…You’re gonna do as you’re told?”
“I’ll do whatever the fuck you want?” I whined with desperation as the cold started making it’s way into my bones. “Just let me in…I’ll do anything you want Morgan please.”
“What’s the first thing you gonna do when you step in the house.”
“Morgan please—”
“Answer.”
“I’m gonna eat the dessert.”
“Before that.”
“Wha…” my eyes darted everywhere as I tried to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “Whatever you want Morgan.”
“We already established that…but what you gonna do first of all, after I generously, kindly, forgive you for what you did and let you inside your house again.” She teased. She had to be enjoying this, tormenting me while I stood outside in the cold, ready to do whatever she ordered.
“…I’m gonna…thank you…?” I said.
“Outta girl.” She laughed.
The gate buzzed, and I shoved it open, running towards the door. It opened before I got there and Morgan stood at it with her hands on her hips. I collapsed at my doorstep, throwing myself at the ground, I wrapped my arms around her calves and leaned eagerly down till my face rested against the tops of her stockinged feet. I started kissing like my life depended on it. I pecked at her feet, quickly and forcefully, hitting my face at the top of her feet and toes like a chicken picking up food from the floor.
Morgan wiggled her toes under my lips. “That’s it,” she gave a relaxed sigh. “Grovel. Thank me for letting you into your own house.”
“Thanks Morgan,” I whined eagerly as I laid another kiss. “Thank you.”
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Hey guys, hope you liked the story. Most of the my stories are about similar themes, I try to explore many fetishes and kinks but the humiliation and foot fetish aspect is pretty much there in every story. I’ll continue to post stories here regularly, but most of my stories and some continuation of old ones can be found on my Patreon. Writing these stories is hella fun, but it does take a good bit of time and effort, and I would really apreatiate your support. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed the good dean.