She awoke to a curious sensation at the back of her throat. A pressure was forcing its way up her gullet, pulsing rhythmically as though repeatedly swallowing in reverse. Her eyes flicked open, only to squint closed again having met the harsh green light that seared the base of her vision. An unnatural grogginess burdened her return to consciousness and the heaviness of her body drained her energy. In the glowing green blindness, the woman attempted to assess her situation.
At first she assumed she was choking, her gag reflex perhaps triggering in emergency; yet, she didn’t feel the acridness of asphyxiation in her chest. No, her breathing was unlabored but for the shock of awakening. To the contrary, as she took in the thin, metallic air of her surroundings, she was suddenly aware of how easily it entered her lungs, despite not registering any motion through her mouth or nose.
Her heartbeat rose ever so slightly, ever so sharply.
The pendulous weight of her chest rose and fell with increasingly shallow breath. Indeed, as her faculties returned to her she noted the weight of her body and the unpleasant ergonomics of her arms and legs. The pressure in her throat subsided briefly with a tingle, shrinking into nothingness between her collarbones. The brisk chill of a sudden draft across her back and breasts and she knew she was naked: at odds with the warm bed sheets she had retired to that evening. The woman motioned to dispel the goosebumps forming across her arms and bosom, as well as preserve her modesty in that uncertain environment.
Or she would have, were she able to move. The haze with which she awoke had all but faded by then, but the weight of her limbs was ominously unchanged. Immobilized, her heartbeat rose further while her muscles tensed and strained, confirming it was not a night terror or bout of sleep paralysis. In little time, she identified the supposed exhaustion beleaguering her arms and legs to be solid encasement.
Her supple body squeezed against her restraints as the pressure returned, this time more vigorously. Her heart raced in double time as she discerned the pulsation now dominating and distending her gullet to be unequivocally foreign. The pressure built into a pounding, each cycle creeping closer to her uvula. She willed her eyes open, desperately looking as far upwards and away into the darkness for any sign or signal as to the nature of her predicament. As she craned her head backward though, the object compressing her insides shot forward, far past her uvula and into the chamber of her mouth. She felt herself gag truly as vomit erupted from her body, but the taste of bile was lost before it reached her tongue. The object, notably fleshy and organically rigid, burgeoned across her tongue in its place and she found in it an unexpectedly familiar flavor. It was pressing up against her teeth now, the length of its girth following from the root of her distorted neck all the way to the cusp of her lips. The taste was unmistakable, but before she could place it, her body was rocked with another round of gagging and the unidentified appendage burst through her newly agape mouth.
She saw it rise into the lower arc of her vision as the scene changed, spinning about until coming to rest on even more green lights. Tears had not yet begun to well in her eyes when the image resolved to reveal the silhouette of her familiar bust, side by side with her moistening ass. It was a brief moment before the connection was made between the green disks sectioning her body in half, the disk around the stump of her neck, and that hellish green glow sharing origins with the cock protruding from her lips.
There was no telling how long it would last, she knew. She considered her chances of fighting, of escape. Alas, it would be a grisly end if the power to the portals keeping her alive were to be cut. There was nothing to do but wait for her captor to finish.
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What a dream it is to be completely broken for feet. To have your very essence ripped away from your mind, being then implanted with the suggestions and will of feet, and of your Goddess. Letting your arousal and craving for feet become so, so much more~ More than an addiction, more than a need. Once you are broken, feet become your everything.
You can feel the cracks begin to form in your brain, each day that you succumb to your foot lust. Scrolling and staring at each godly pair of feet that comes your way. Feeling your mind turn off, letting instinct take over, as you edge in worship of your addiction.
You pant.
Crack.
You moan.
Crack.
You drool and leak.
Crack. Crack.
Knowing there is no turning back. That the prints these feet leave on your shattering mind are permanent, and any attempt at escape or delay will only have you crawling back for more. The cracks compound, and you feel your mind melting away, forming into something new. My heavenly toes are in your mind, massaging away the last of your thoughts, scattering the willpower left within you, until nothing is left. You want to be nothing, so feet become everything.
As those divine toes mold your mind, you feel your thirst for feet expand~
Toes that once looked cute and suckable, now make your mouth water, and force you into a fantasy of kissing, servicing each one.
Soles that looked sexy and smooth, are now irresistible, divine. Truly worthy of your endless worship.
And the words of your Goddess, once just text on your screen, become a voice in your mind, filling you with truth.
Lust growing.
Pair after pair of perfect feet, warping your mind, one after another.
You edge harder.
You sink deeper.
You accept how weak you are before the glory of feet. And then, right in that moment, you feel it.
Ping.
You feel your mind shatter. You realize you can no longer think. Words cannot form themselves in your head. Everything goes blank.
Your mind has been broken.
Feet have won.
Dopamine rushes in to fill these empty spaces, and “feet” becomes the only word in your vocabulary, looping forever in your drained mind. Your gaze, magnetized to soles. Your senses, needing the scents and tastes of toes to overwhelm them.
Your body, programmed to edge and worship, to kneel and obey. Your mind, broken. You have become nothing more than a slave to feet, giving them everything you are, everything you have, everything you ever will be.
You have lost.
Feet have won.
Maybe you were aware it was happening. That your little fetish was becoming too much, and was taking over more and more of your life. Maybe you wanted it to happen. You knew feet deserved to take over, to break you into their obedient servant.
It doesn’t matter now though, does it?~
Nothing matters anymore. Nothing except, for feet.
Edging automatically. Mindlessly worshiping, praying to the feet that own you. Serving and obeying before your Goddess. There is no more resistance. No more control. No more choice.
You’ve been broken, foot slave.
My toes are in your mind. Pulling your strings. Your every action.
My feet will reshape your shattered mind, molding you into whatever I desire.
And all you can do is let it happen, accept, and obey~
