Nathalie Ch. 04 (ENGLISH): The Training

Camille's training begins to serve the feet of Mistress Creole

Dear reader I welcome you to my fantasies. I look forward to reading your comments. I'm not an English speaker, so the text may contain errors. Mea culpa and happy reading.

Nathalie is satisfied with her day. Camille is perfect for her feet. She hasn't yet had the pleasure of feeling her tongue slip between her toes, but that will come. Salma is looking for total submission. Why would she deprive herself of it?

Nathalie contacts the Moroccan woman's former mistress to find out about her psychology, her expectations, and her limits. The young submissive is a perfect domestic slave, accepting and even seeking corporal punishment. She can be used as a sex toy at her dominatrix's convenience.

Nathalie asks Salma to come to her house at after her university course. She leaves her a list of domestic chores to complete. As soon as she comes back home, she inspects the work done. If she's not satisfied, she punishes Salma. In the garage, Nathalie immobilizes her, totally naked, by the wrists with a pair of handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. She applies a dozen belt blows to her bottom. With each scream, a new blow is struck. Salma remains restrained while her mistress Creole takes a shower. her former owner already applied this punishment. Nathalie is surprised by Salma's resistance to abuse.

When Nathalie is satisfied, Salma accompanies her into the bathroom and waits to wipe up when she gets out of the shower. Nathalie lies down on her bed. Salma applies moisturizing milk to her legs, makes it penetrate with a rotating massage of her hand. She goes up to her buttocks and gently spreads them. Nathalie then feels her face move closer to her and a discreet breath caresses her anus. Salma lingers longer than necessary. On instruction, she spends a long time massaging her back and shoulders. Then, comes the turn of the arms and hands. Salma greedily imagines her Creole mistress administering a spanking with her pretty hands. Nathalie turns around and Salma dutifully tends to her generous breasts. She works her way down to her crotch, where her fingers come dangerously close to her Mistress's sex. She finishes with a special coconut milk cream for the feet. It's a moment of pure relaxation for Nathalie. She loves to feel the soft, gentle hands of her submissive sliding over her. She feels her breath on her skin and guesses that the Moroccan's lips are ready to settle on her. Likewise, she enjoys the young woman's frustration as she seeks to deepen her service. She slips on a light, flirty outfit to enjoy Salma's concupiscent gaze on her.

For Camille, she chooses to make herself desired for a few days, keeping a certain distance to better submit her.

For Camille, For Camille, she chooses to kindle herself desire for a few days for a few days and to keep a certain distance to better subdue her.

After her encounter with Mistress Creole, Camille returns home totally aroused. In the past, she'd occasionally massaged the feet of her girlfriends, but none of them were as attractive and, above all, exciting. She reminisces about her crazy day, caressing herself. The following days, she impatiently waits for a message from her Mistress Creole. She remains in the memory of her feet. She worries if she still wants her. The following week, her phone displays a simple "I'll expect you tonight at 8:30 PM; Mistress Creole". She takes the time to get ready and put on make-up to look as attractive as possible.

Her heart sinks when Salma opens the door. She expected to be greeted by her mistress Creole.

"Good evening Mistress Camille."

The young girl is surprised by the title. Then she remembers that Salma has to answer all her requests.

"Mistress Creole is watching a romantic comedy tonight. You're to lie quietly at her feet and wait. She will give you her instructions" Salma informs her. "Do you have any questions?

"No."

The film has started. Nathalie is comfortably seated. She's wearing a white, almost see-through blouse and pants that contrast with her dark skin. She's wearing flat-soled sandals with leather straps. Camille's heart races. She makes herself very small and places herself as agreed at the feet of her mistress Creole, who doesn't even seem to notice her. The minutes tick by. Camille is like a hungry dog in front of a bone placed behind glass. She watches her toes wiggle from time to time. The nails are perfectly polished. Occasionally, the feet stretch or rear up in the sandals, and adorable wrinkles form. Camille slowly approaches them and catches a whiff of coconut. She remains hypnotized by these big, pretty feet. Nathalie waits until the last fifteen minutes of the film to hold out a foot to the young girl. Camille takes hold of it, gently removes the shoe and begins a sensual massage. The foot is huge compared to hers. She brings her face close to it and the smell of coconut becomes stronger. They're as soft as she remembers. Nathalie feels the girl's breath on her toes. All she has to do is move them to touch her lips. She decides to change feet. Camille spends the rest of the film massaging them, and cherishes the hope of kissing them.

All evening, Nathalie resisted asking her to look after her. It is essential to make herself desired for so long. She enjoys Camille's hands. She restrains herself from asking her to use her soft lips and put her tongue into action. Her aim is for Camille to consider access to her feet as a privilege. Camille should experience it as a special day, the right to place her pink lips on the light bronze skin of the soles of her feet. Being allowed to suck on her toes must be a reward. To succeed, Nathalie has to make herself unattainable. Her feet must become the object of fantasies. Camille must understand that her mistress offers her feet out of generosity. If she succeeds, Camille will be ready for the next reading circle. She will no longer feel anxious about being on her feet in front of strangers, but will be enthusiastic, whatever the situation or the people around her. To succeed, Nathalie has drawn up a plan and plans to follow it rigorously. Tonight, Camille's attitude is encouraging. The latter is shocked when she hears Salma bring a tea to her mistress.

"Have you finished cleaning the kitchen?" asks Nathalie to the Moroccan.

"Yes, Mistress Creole."

"You can go" said Nathalie with a gesture of the hand, "Unless Camille asks you something".

"Mistress Camille, is there anything I can do for you?" Salma asks Camille respectfully.

"I'm at the service of Mistress Creole." Camille replies surprised, without even looking at her.

Nathalie is satisfied. The young girl continues to massage her foot lovingly, her mouth still a few centimetres from her toes even though she is in the presence of another person. Nathalie places her foot on her forehead and gently pushes her away. She shivers with satisfaction as the young girl takes the opportunity to place her lips on the sole of her foot. Camille is disappointed t to have been able to take care of her Mistress Creole's feet for such a short time. They are so soft with that coconut smell.

"You're done for tonight. Put my shoes back on and go. Have fun with her." said Nathalie.

"Yes, Mistress Creole." Camille replied respectfully.

Camille leaves home sadly. She had spent the whole evening at her mistress's feet, to have the opportunity to touch them for only few minutes. The two girls return to the university district together.

"Do you want to stay with me for a while?" Camille asked Salma.

"Yes, Mistress Camille."

It's a studio like so many others in the neighbourhood. Tired, Camille collapses on the sofa bed. Salma threw herself at her feet and takes off her shoes. Camille has worn her unique high heels to look attractive. After so much walking her feet are on fire. She doesn't know how to react. She decides to let it happen. Salma gently massages her feet. Camille enjoys and falls asleep.

During the night, she wakes up. She is lying on her sofa bed with a blanket over her. In the morning, she discovers Salma on the floor with her eyes open, waiting.

"Good morning, Mistress Camille. What would you like for breakfast?" asks Salma.

"A glass of orange juice and a tea." Camille replied automatically, without really understanding the situation.

In the shower, she recalls her evening with delight. She's surprised when Salma comes to wipe her off. She lets her do it. Salma's movements are slow. She bends down to wipe the girl's crotch as she spreads her legs slightly. Her face is almost level with the little brunette's sex. Camille, still remembering her mistress Creole, begins to be disturbed by Salma. The Moroccan girl notices the wet sex and emboldens herself to kiss her gently. Camille reacts positively by facilitating her access. For Salma, it's an invitation to continue. She places her hands on her round, firm buttocks to offer a superb cunnilingus. Camille comes quickly, again and again. She finally pushes Salma's head away.

"I still want to, but I have to finish getting ready or I'll be late for class." Camille says as she pushes Salma's head away.

Camille turns to the sink to brush her teeth. Salma finds herself with her head in front of the young girl's buttocks. She takes them in her hand, spreads them apart and runs her tongue over the shy, tight little anus. Camille can't resist. She holds on to the sink as Salma begins to touch her clitoris with her fingertips while gently titillating her ass with her tongue. After one last orgasm, Camille pushes her away violently.

"I really have to go and so do you."

"I'm starting my lessons later than you, Mistress Camille. I'm going to stay here and do the housework. I'll put the keys in the letterbox."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm cleaning Mistress Creole's house."

"The letterbox isn't safe. Keep the keys. I'll come and get them this evening."

"Yes, Mistress Camille."

Oceane

Camille is delighted with her ploy. If the Creole mistress is present, she may have the opportunity to service her, otherwise she will ask Salma to look after her. Camille spends the day to dream of her beautiful mistress Creole and the orgasms of the morning. For her part, Salma is delighted to have two mistresses.

Nathalie's day is a nightmare. In obvious bad faith, a client blames her for writing an error on his balance sheet. Out of cowardice, her boss overwhelms her and makes her bear all the responsibility. After several hours of suffering such injustices and violent personal attacks, she explodes, insulting her client for his dishonesty. She called her manager incompetent and a spineless cow. She spends the rest of the day alone in an overheated office. No-one dares approach her. She goes home with her anger still intact. In her house, she keeps her dirty shoes and inspects the cleaning done by Salma. She notes the marks on the floor that she has just made herself. She blames the poor girl and sentences her to the belt in the garage. Camille rings the doorbell.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asks the angry half-breed. Her head bowed. Camille is looking for an answer. "Now that you're here, come with me."

Nathalie ties Salma up and hands the belt to Camille.

"Give her ten blows." Nathalie ordered.

Trembling, the young girl delivers a blow that feels more like a caress. Nathalie takes the belt violently from her hands and slams the leather strap against the delicate skin of the young Moroccan, who stifles a cry of pain. Each blow is accompanied by screamed insults. With her face still full of fury, Nathalie signals to Camille to follow her. The Caribbean is nothing more than a ball of fury, a veritable demon. The young girl regrets having come, especially unexpectedly.

The front door opens. A younger copy of the Mistress Creole enters the house.

"Oceane, you here?" Nathalie says surprised, her face full of anger.

"I don't have class until the weekend, so I'm coming home. I feel an anger I haven't seen for a long time. You must have had a terrible day. Do you want me to leave?" As she speaks, she walks backwards towards the door.

Nathalie orders her to stay.

"Tell me what's going on, mum."

They both move into the living room. Oceane is taken aback when she sees Camille. The two girls recognize each other. Without really being friends, they got along well.

Camille bows her head in shame. She makes herself very small. Oceane nods questioningly at the young girl.

"Do you know her?" Asks Nathalie while looking at the two girls.

"Yes, we were in class together a few years ago."

"Now she's my little white whore. She came here uninvited to grovel at my feet. She's just a bitch I'm trying to train." Explains Nathalie, the word bad and in a disdainful tone.

Her gaze is hard when she addresses Camille.

"Get down on all fours and take off my shoes with your slutty mouth. Then wait until I allow you to clean my feet with your slutty tongue. That's why you came here, you white piece of shit."

Camille does not dare to resist and obeys. She has seen how Salma has been treated a few minutes earlier. She gets down on all fours and stands in front of her mistress's shoes. She doesn't dare to meet her former classmate's gaze. She pulls at the laces with her teeth. She can't get the shoe off.

"What a moron you are! Put the footrest in front of me." Nathalie shouted at her.

Still on all fours, she pushed it with difficulty in front of her mistress, who placed her legs on it. Her feet are sticking out. Camille chooses the way that seems easiest to her: she bites the heel of the shoe and pulls. The second comes next. The socks are removed with difficulty. Trembling, Camille waits on her knees in front of her mistress's dirty feet.

"Look at that larva, drooling as she waits for me to give her permission to clean my feet with her tongue." Nathalie remarked scornfully.

"You're not going to make her lick your feet, are you? I can see the dirt from where I sit." Oceane asks, horrified.

"She's the one who came. I didn't ask her to. It's a privilege for that whore to touch my dirty feet. Just look at her! She's so small. She's the perfect size for my feet. She could hope for nothing better than to be at the service of my feet. It's just shit mouth; even my dirty, smelly feet are too good for her. She knows she's lucky to be able to eat the shit she finds between my toes. If she had any pride, she would leave immediately. But no, she stays there, pathetic, waiting for me to allow her to clean them with her tongue. Would you agree to touch such disgusting feet?" Nathalie asks with disgust.

"No, of course not." Oceane knows not to upset her mother until her anger has subsided.

"Of course not. No one would accept it. Even an old prostitute at the end of her career wouldn't do it for money. These women still have some dignity. Only the worst slut would do it, and even then, she'd have to be forced. This piece of shit in front of me came here on purpose. She's the one who wants to clean the feet of a woman who could be her mother." Nathalie shouts at Camille. "Do you want my feet, you vicious slut?"

Camille is paralysed by the situation. She is scared to death of the black fury. She dares just a little "yes Mistress Creole."

"You see! No pride, a real doormat. Let's do a test. Doesn't it bother you to see a woman's pussy?" Nathalie asks her daughter.

Oceane answer "No."

"She's going to get naked and point her ass at you. You'll see for yourself that this slut will get wet eating the shit she finds on my feet. She's such a slut that she'll cum if I make her lick my ass after shitting."

Nathalie gives her an angry look. Camille looks down and undresses.

"Spread your thighs wide, you scumbag, so my daughter can get a good look at your disgusting cocks garage." Nathalie orders.

Oceane knows her mother well. When she's angry, she's terrifying. No one dares oppose her or disobey her. She herself doesn't feel comfortable. She understands that the young girl obeys without flinching, and she takes pity on her. She tried to divert her mother's attention to defuse her anger and asked her.

"Mum, tell me about your day."

As she listens to her mother, she watches the young girl take a toe in her mouth. It's probably her imagination; she has the impression that her hairless sex is glistening slightly.

Camille wants to disappear under a stone. Her eyes fill with tears. She regrets having answered that announcement. She wants to run away. She doesn't have the strength, the will or the courage. She is paralysed by fear. The huge feet in front of her face are dirty; pieces of dirt are encrusted on the skin. Sweat makes them shine.

Their powerful odours saturate the young girl's olfactory receptors.

When the toes move, she sees matter between them. Despite this, she surprises herself by finding them beautiful and sexy. Part of her is happy to finally be able to put her tongue on them, to be able to suck on each toe. Deep inside her, excitement grows at this extreme humiliation, especially in front of her former classmate. She goes ahead and starts with the little toe, which she takes in her mouth. She sucks passionately. Her tongue circles it gently. She has plenty of time. The pungent, salty taste of sweat and dirt quickly fades. She moves on to the next until she reaches the big toe, which fills her mouth with its sheer size. She finds herself loving her place. She doesn't want to leave. If only Salma could be there and look after her pussy like she did this morning. She gently slides her tongue between each toe and wipes away all traces of the dirt, she reluctantly swallows. She kisses the soles of her feet, which taste strongly of sweat with a hint of coconut. It doesn't bother her as much as it used to. She slides her tongue between every lovely little wrinkle of the milk chocolate skin. She no longer has any sense of time. Her knees are aching. She finishes by opening her mouth wide to put the heel in, sucking on it and teasing it with the tip of her tongue.

Nathalie has finished talking. Her anger subsides. The mother and daughter say nothing more, just look at the little brunette on all fours. With a nod and a few discreet gestures, the mother asks Oceane if her sex is wet. The girl smiled and replied positively, still using gestures. Nathalie smiles with satisfaction. She looks at the clock. Camille has been cleaning her foot for more than half an hour. She lets it happen.

"Oceane, would you do me a favour?" She asks her daughter. "Go to the garage and free the young woman you find. Ask her to cook the meal."

Oceane is stunned by what her mother has just told her. Tonight, she is in for one surprise after another. On her return, Oceane questions her mother. Camille tries to forget the pain that numbs her limbs. She sucks one by one the toes of her left foot.

"Mum, can you tell me who this other girl is?"

"She's my house slave. She didn't clean the floor properly, so I punished her." Nathalie replied simply.

"She only does the cleaning?" Oceane asks in surprise.

"If I'm satisfied, after my shower, she has the right to put moisturizer all over my body, massage me and give me a body treatment."

"Her reward is taking care of you?"

"Yes. Now that you're home, both of them will be at your service too. You can try them out. Have you ever had someone at your feet?" asked her mother.

Oceane thought for a moment and replied. "Well, once, a boy told me I had pretty feet and kissed them. That was all."

The young girl has not yet had many love stories. She has always been very tall and since her shoes were sometimes bigger than those of the boys. Some people called her Berthe, big feet Berthe. She was jealous of girls like Camille who seemed more standard to her.