A Day

B was at a friend's house for dinner but what might have been a relaxing evening was anything but. 

I swear Emily was critical from the moment she woke up, though her annoyance at everyone was justified. 

B argued in the morning about making her bed (she said she did when she didn't).

I forgot to set up a meeting I'd promised to set up for several weeks.

Someone at work was giving her problems on a project that wasn't even her responsibility.

So I knew she'd be in a mood when she got home and she was. Worse, when she walked in, she had her AirPods on and was in an obvious professional argument. 

She looked at me, scowled, sat on a chair in the living room, crossed her legs. Never taking her eyes off me, never interrupting her work discussion, she snapped her fingers, pointed to her dangling, nylon covered foot. 

I looked at her, held up my hands, mouthed the word massage. 

She shook her head, pointed to her mouth. No, she didn't want a massage, she wanted my kisses on foot, on her toes, on her heel. Not a massage, an act of submission, of obedience. 

I knelt on the floor, leaned forward and kissed her toes. I moved my hands to her ankle to unbuckle the strap of her heel, but she pulled her foot back, shook her head again, making it clear I was to kiss her foot as I found it.

I did. I kissed her toes again, the leather holding them, the top of her foot. I kissed her arch, inhaling her scent as I did, kissed the leather straps, her heel, the heel of her shoe. I paid no attention to her talking on the phone, focused on my task. I don't even know when she got off her call, when she leaned back, when her mind drifted to my kisses on her foot.

Eventually, she pulled her foot back slightly, causing me to look up. She uncrossed her legs, like she was going to stand. "I'm going to change for dinner," she said.

"Do...do you want more?" I asked, trying to read her mood.

She shook her head. "You may eat with me," she said, a wry smile on her face.

It wasn't a silent dinner, but it wasn't talkative, either. It wasn't until we were getting ready for bed that she softened some. 

"I'm sorry about the meeting," I said.

She nodded, her nod an indication of my apology and her forgiveness. "I'll take that foot massage now," she said.

"Yes, Ma'am," I smiled at her attention.

"Just my feet," she said.

"Of course," I said. 

While massaging her second foot, she moved her first so it rested on my panties, against the cage. "You...you're a tease," I managed to say.

She nodded. "You wouldn't have me any other way," she said, "would you?"

"N...no, Ma'am," I said, "no I wouldn't."