Stickman Readers' Submissions January 23rd, 2012

My Thai Mistress (Part 3)

Sustained sleep on Monday night proved equally difficult, and I dragged myself into work on Tuesday morning after a night of tossing and turning. I had spent a bit of time on Monday evening reading up on pedicures, and following the Scout’s motto
to “be prepared” I had acquired a few useful implements which I carried in a small duffel bag—a plastic bowl, two towels, a nailfile and nail clippers, hand lotion, and some red nail polish. I was again distracted and unproductive
at work (how long could this go on before my superiors in Hong Kong took notice?).

At 3 PM I dutifully entered Noi’s office. Noi looked smashing—her long, shiny hair was piled on top of her head and held in place with two steel chopsticks, which mirrored perfectly the metal stiletto heels on her black pumps.
She was wearing a snug black turtleneck with several strands of pearls, an above-the-knee black pinstripe skirt, and sheer black stockings. She did not appear to be wearing her anklet.

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“Well, footboy,” Noi said, “are you ready for your first pedicure?”

“Yes,” I said, unzipping my duffel bag.

“Yes, Miss,” Noi corrected me.

“Yes, Miss,” I said, laying one towel on the floor at her feet.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, taking the plastic bowl with me into the hall, and filling it with water at a bathroom sink.

I returned to Noi’s office, closed the door, and placed the bowl on the towel. Kneeling at Noi’s feet, I removed her pumps. Now I faced a dilemma—what to do about the stockings? Sensing my confusion, Noi smiled, and seductively
pulled her skirt further up her thighs, exposing a lovely vision of lacy stocking-tops and garter-straps. My groin ached as my belted genitals struggled against their confinement. I carefully untabbed the garters on her left thigh, then carefully
unrolled the stocking down to her foot. In one sense, I was in heaven—in another, here I was kneeling before Noi, my genitals belted, my nights tormented. . . . I removed her other stocking, and carefully placed her feet in the bowl. After
her feet were well-soaked, I carefully filed and clipped her nails, filed any rough areas on her feet (there were few—her feet were deligtfully soft), and pushed her cuticles back. I then used the hand lotion to massage her feet. Noi seemed
to be enjoying herself—she had closed her eyes and appeared quite relaxed. I then used the second towel to wipe her nails dry, and proceeded to carefully apply a coat of polish to each nail. I waited a few minutes for it to dry, and applied
a second coat.

“OK, Miss,” I said, noticing my back and knees beginning to ache.

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Noi opened her eyes and wriggled her toes. She opened her desk drawer and removed—a magnifying glass! Noi proceeded to examine her toes carefully.

“I’m afraid, Robert, that you got some polish onto the skin on both little toes.”

The nails on Noi’s “little toes” were almost impossibly small, so this was perhaps true, I thought. Smiling brightly, Noi said, “well, replace my stockings and shoes and then I’ll teach you to be more careful.”

My pleasure at rolling Noi’s stockings up her alluring legs was now mixed with confusion and fear as to what was to come.

“OK,” Noi said, standing up as soon as I had replaced the pumps on her lovely feet, “now stand up, and get your clothes off.”

My face burning with shame and embarassment, I hastened to undress.

“Let’s see if little Rob enjoys this aspect of our relationship,” Noi said playfully.

She opened a desk drawer and removed the anklet! She detached a key and said, “come here.”

I approached, and Noi unlocked, then removed my chastity belt.

I stood naked before Noi and to my horror almost instantly became erect.

“Looks like he does,” said Noi with a devious smirk, “but let’s see how he reacts to pain. Good footboys do lots of practice at home, so they don’t muss up,” said Noi, menacingly, “but bad little footboys
make a mess.”

I heard Noi open another drawer, but I didn’t dare look, and instead stared straight ahead. I heard Noi seat herself, and a second later she said “over my knees, Robert.”

I approached her and stretched myself uncomfortably over her stocking-clad legs. As I did so, I noticed a rather wicked-looking wooden paddle sitting on her desk.

“Now, Robert, I want you to be my perfect little footboy. When you give me a pedicure, I want the polish on the nails, not on my flesh. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Miss” I said in a surprisingly small voice.

“Well, I’m going to have to make sure you remember,” Noi said. Instantly, she grabbed the paddle and thwacked my buttocks. It hurt. A lot. I grunted, determined not to make too much of a scene. As Noi rained more and more blows upon
me, I wondered if I could keep from crying.

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