Photo by Lorenzo Chuca
Nylon Queen by Necrofoxx
Featured in Issue 03 of subspace Magazine
He knelt before her: eyes to the ground, hands clasped behind the small of his back, and his shoulders slumped slightly forward.
“Chest high. Pull those shoulders back. I’d hate to think you’re not happy about being here.” He quickly corrected his posture while keeping his eyes to the ground.
“Permission to speak, Queen.”
“You may.”
“My Queen, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here, on my knees, at your feet.”
“Then act like it. Your poor posture suggests otherwise.”
He quickly nodded and straightened his spine.
“If it’s simply a posture issue, we can fix that.” The slow click of her heels grew closer toward him and he felt his knees weaken beneath him. She circled around and stepped into him so close that his face was just inches away from her soft, pale-white abdomen. She looked down and studied him: he seemed to struggle to keep still.
The thought of him kneeling so close to perfection was almost too much to handle. It was surreal, and he was flooded with the realization that just that morning he had visited the grocery store and even filled up his gas tank. Those things were normal weekend errands. But right now, he was at the mercy of this beautiful Queen, and the stark contrast between his mundane life routine and this enchanting/intoxicating experience was shocking him. He didn’t dare move a muscle, and he didn’t, at least that’s what he thought.
He wasn’t as still as he had hoped, and she quietly enjoyed his silence and this position. Not daring to look up at her, he closed his eyes and inhaled her delicious scent.
She took two fingers and pulled his chin up until his neck hyperextended and his head was thrown all the way back. His eyes looked directly up and he gazed at the ceiling, but it could have been the heavens.
“Look into my eyes,” she commanded. He had known better than to stare directly into her eyes without permission. When he did, his eyes seemed thrilled. Very blatantly, he luxuriated in her green eyes and even had the nerve to steal a glance at her deep red hair. The tone was as rich as red velvet. But her eyes, the green was splashed with bits of honey yellow and her expression was tolerant but ready to strike.
“I have a collar for problems like you. The very back of it links to the cuffs on your wrists. I can shorten than chain until the space between the back of your neck and your wrists is short enough to have you propped up the way you should be in your Queen’s presence.”
“Yes, Queen.”
“I will use it if you don’t fix your little problem.”
“Yes, Queen.” His eyes protested at the accusation that he was giving attitude. She didn’t care.
Against the wall of the room stood a table with a collection of items carefully laid out. She pulled his chin down and walked to the table. His eyes fell to ground again but fixated on her shiny black heels as she walked away. The heel was tall and spiked, the arches were sky high, and the soles were bright red. His dick hardened and pulsed at the view of her high red soles. Above them rested thin, girlish ankles that tapered up to a curvy black line that ended at her thighs. Those thighs. Expensive-looking sheer black pantyhose hugged those thick thighs so perfectly. He imagined himself curve around her that way, being tightly wound around her legs, feeling the bounce of her flesh and the silky texture of her skin. There were no panties beneath those black nylons; only a black vertical panel that covered what he had never toyed with the idea of having. He’d caught glimpses of that region before and the images had burned into his brain. All he could think of it was that she was absolutely flawless.
At the table, she stood before three pairs of nylons that were folded neatly in a line. Next to them laid a medium-sized flogger, a thin wooden paddle, blindfold, a rubber paddle, and rope. She picked up a pair of nude nylons and walked towards him.
“Do you love my scent? I remember you saying the other night it was ‘intoxicating’.”
“I do, my Queen. More than any food or flower in existence.”
She pulled the nude nylon between her fingers, toyed with it, and stretched it in opposite directions. As he watched, he felt a thrill at realizing the stockings looked as if they were already worn. She pulled them wide and placed them gently on his face. The fabric ran across his skin, caressing his nose and cheeks, and as he inhaled deeply he caught that familiar scent: Queen’s perfect feet. With his eyes closed, he felt lightheaded and had to quickly remember himself. He stiffened his legs to ensure his good posture: he did not want to fall over in this perfect moment.
“Oh,” is all he could manage to humbly exclaim in her presence. With her fingers, she caressed his neck and ears through the nylon.
“I wore these last night to a dinner,” she teased, then pulled the toe seams right up to his nose and lips, “and dancing.” She pulled the nylons slowly away from his face and watched his body lean into them, not letting those seams escape him. Pulling them left and right, his nose and parted lips followed her every move.
Unexpectedly, a wave of fierce curiosity overcame him and a flood of questions prevented him from focusing on her perfect smell. “Where was she?” “Who was she with?” Indulging in these questions was futile, though, it never turned out well. So, he knelt there – helpless and obedient.
“These nylons are my favorite. Did you know that nudes are my favorite?”
“I suspected it, my Queen.” Nude nylons were the ones she’d gush over the most, and the ones she’d photograph herself in the most, too.
“Impressive. I’m always surprised at what you know about me without me really telling you. You must be studying me all the time,” she laughed. The fabric was now covering her outstretched arm, and she looked it at almost lovingly.
“It’s about feeling encased in a luscious material – that’s what excites me. My skin tingles in it. The sight of its nudity arouses my sensuality. It feels so good to be hugged by it, and to be wearing it, without most people realizing it’s even there. It just excites me so much.”
He watched her face as she spoke. She was so beautiful. Her lips curved seductively as she spoke in that devil-red lipstick. Deep, dark lashes outlined those feline-like eyes. He wondered what it would be like if she admired him that way.
“I have a brand new pair of Wolford’s.” She turned to him and caught his longing gaze.
“Ah, you wanna watch me when I haven’t given you permission to.” The light expression of her face hardened.
His eyes darted to the floor and he feared that he would pay for this mistake.
“So, my voice wasn’t enough, you had to take it upon yourself to ignore what you’ve always been told.”
“No, my Queen. I wasn’t ignoring you. I’m sorry, my Queen.” His heart sank as he heard her say those words. He didn’t want to be disobedient and he wasn’t ignoring what she said! It was an accident, just and accident!
“You weren’t ignoring me?” she scoffed with sarcasm. “Of course, you ignored what I said when you crawled in here. Do not treat me like a fool.”
“No, my Queen.” He gave up. He’d rather just take whatever is coming than upset her more.
“Shut up.” The nylons were now a ball in her hand as she gave a light smack to his mouth. She pried two fingers in his mouth and opened it wide. “Open it wide, like that. Keep it open.”
She disappeared behind him and his body stiffened at the anticipation of a blow.
“You want to see what’s not yours to see, and then you want to run your mouth about how you didn’t ignore what you’ve been told.” She pulled a blindfold down over his eyes and there was quickened pace of her clicking heels buzzing around him. The change in tempo sounded fierce and intimidating to him.
A sharp blow to his bare chest startled his senses. It had started with the faint sound of something swiftly whipping through the air before he felt that resonating sting flood his upper torso. His arms and shoulders tensed in preparation for another blow. Nothing came.
There were three clicks of her heels and suddenly, she was standing over him. The warmth of her skin touched and soothed his torso and he had to tell himself not to lean into her. Her body was warm and her nylons felt incredibly lush against him. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head all the way back again. Despite being blindfolded, he could feel her cold stare, and this made him feel much more vulnerable than usual. Something was being shoved into his mouth.
“Don’t you dare ruin these beauties with those teeth,” she said as she pushed the last of it in.
“Her nude nylons!” he thought. Exhilarated, he struggled to keep all of the fabric in his mouth. It felt like an eternity to him as he strained his jaw and neck to fit them comfortably inside. Once he finally got his lips to close, he breathed in deeply, desperately trying to inhale as much of her as he could muster.
“Good boy.” She giggled a bit at something, he wasn’t sure what. “There have been many times I felt like gagging you while out in public. You talk too much sometimes. This is perfect. I could go on all day about my business while you kneel here nude, gagged, and blindfolded. All silent and fixed like a piece of furniture.”
He feared maybe that would be his next punishment. Three sharper, faster blows landed on his upper back. The pain was sound and radiated out to his shoulders. By the third one he was leaning forward. She used the tip of her thin wooden paddle to straighten out his posture.
“Like furniture.” The click of her heels faded out towards that table at the edge of the wall.
When she came back, the tip of the paddle pulled his chin so high up in the air that he had to stand up. “Walk.” A smack of the paddle on his bare ass propelled him forward, and he was walking now. He was stopped by the paddle and told to kneel where he stood. The blindfold was pulled off. They were in front of the couch. He lowered his eyes as she bent down to whisper something in his ear. Her hair was covering his face now and he all he could think of when smelling it was how that must be what heaven smells like.
“If you say even one word, I will beat you for every letter you spoke with my studded rubber paddle. Got it?”
“Yes, my Queen.” She had used that paddle only once before on him and the bruises it left lasted about two weeks. The pain was deep and the blows much heavier with that damned rubber thing.
“Out.” She held out a black plate for him to dispose of the nylons. Free of the gag, he stretched out his pained jaw.
Queen sat before him and crossed her legs slowly. Her shiny black heels reflected the lights from the candles that were lit all around the room. She was a vision of curves in all black. Only her hair, lips, and soles of her heels were red…those gorgeous eyes green, and that skin a creamy white.
“Do it.” Feverishly, he kissed the shiny skin of her shoe: the toe, the arch of that beautiful foot, the spike of her heel, all around the ball of her foot, everything! He wished with every bit of him that she could feel how grateful he was for the privilege of worshipping such superior beauty.
“Continue.” Not sure if she meant to continue kissing her shoe, he hesitantly moved on to the sheer nylon on the top of her foot. His lips seared at the touch of it! The thought of his lips being so microscopically close to her skin, separated only by the thin nylon, made him feel like he wasn’t even worthy. And for that moment, he couldn’t understand why she allowed him to kiss her.
The smell of her skin evaporated that thought and made him dizzy, and he struggled to keep his composure, to not become too overzealous. That wasn’t something she ever approved of.
“Take it off,” her finger pointed at her heel. Quickly, he obliged. He slipped off her heel slowly and carefully, savoring the rare opportunity he had to take an item of her clothing off. This is what his dreams were made of. This can’t be happening! Suddenly, the warm, plush ball of her foot was pushing against his cheek and nostrils, her toes curled at the bridge of his nose. A wave of pleasure shot through his face and through his body. He felt smothered by her aroma and he moaned.
“This is all you’ll ever get from me: the sole of my foot.” She pointed her foot and pushed his face closer to the ground.
She stood up and towered over him. He became weak as she rested her toes on his nose and lips. Her warmth and scent were driving him to the edge. He could feel the singular pressure of each toe on his face and he began dripping right there on the floor.
“Open your mouth for me, little foot bitch.” She seemed to whine.
As soon as he parted his lips open she shoved her nylon-covered toes into his mouth.
Every muscle in his body seemed to melt onto the floor except for his dick – he was throbbing.
“Is this what you’ve been dreaming about, you stupid little foot freak?”
She looked larger than ever over him and he felt small, but he wanted to feel all her power, and to be smothered by her. Even if he was beneath her, at least he was getting a part of her. He’d take anything to be acknowledged by her, to have her attention, to be looked at by her, to be played with by her, to hear her speak his name. He tightened his lips around her toes and tasted them. Again, thoughts of what he did to deserve this began to swirl in his mind, before resigning himself to simply enjoy the moment and not analyze it so much.
She sat back down and placed her other foot on his chest. He relished the warmth and quiet power of her sole on his skin and refrained from taking it in his hands.
“Open wide, you eager little fuck.”
The force of another set of hot sweaty toes was being pushed into his mouth. He moaned fucking hard that time. Sweat formed on his forehead as he strained his arms at his side. Of course, he didn’t dare raise his hands from where they laid. He felt a foot leave his mouth to rub his balls, and his dick pulsed harder as the nylon smoothed over him. With toes wiggling in his mouth and now a foot inching higher towards his dick, his excitement was now driving him to kiss and suck her toes so passionately that he felt just moments away from exploding.
Suddenly, both feet were pulled away from him and she rested her soles across his face. He had to stop his hand from reaching out and finishing what he was feeling. Squirming, he shifted his body to a comfortable spot and he lay there defeated, knowing that he probably wasn’t going to cum that night. At least, not with her. The weight of her feet on his face felt blissful to him.
“I’ve been up since 5 a.m.” She stretched her feet and spread her toes. He caught a glimpse of her body propped up on the couch, chest high, with her head cocked to one side as if to be examining him from where she sat. Her arms stretched over her legs and she was caressing her own thighs.
“My feet are tired but I’m not.” With a crop, she began to lightly tap his chest and torso. The taps didn’t hurt but they seemed to threaten with a potential for more.
“Do a good job rubbing my feet tonight,” she grinned.|