03 Raising The Pressure

Outside the birds are singing and the sun is already shining through my open window as
I wake up.  I start stretching my arms and legs. It seems to become a wonderful early
summer  day.

Today, a lot of work waits for me. I have to select the photos for a new album with title
"Flowers From Within" wich my gallerist decided to give in print.
The album should contain closeup shots from gorgeous blossoms of all kind.

At one of our meetings I showed him a few of my macro shots from flowers and
he was absolutely enthusiastic. He asked me to make more photos of this kind
so that we can produce a full picture album.

I agreed - with the result, that now I have to wade through a flood of about 
600 closeup shots of flowers and blossoms which I took the last few weeks.

Having all these blossoms and flowers in my mind, I remember the day, when 
a little rosebud brought something hidden deep down in myself up to the surface 
into bright light.

It was a while ago since I had that intense feelings from power and sexual lust
together with Anne.

Today, I knew, she wasn't here. She had to leave the castle early in the morning 
and drive with John into the town of Meran. 

Both were busy with the local administration and had to fill in some forms.  It meant, 
they would be back not before 4 o'clock in the late afternoon.

I didn't want to wait until she comes back. I felt a little bit bored. On one hand, 
I had to do a lot of work, on the other hand I felt no urge to do it.

I was in a state of undecision. On the search for something, I could not specify.

Today was one of these days, when tourists are in the garden. Maybe there is a
chance for something, I thought by myself. Not specifiing the something closer.

I went to my clothing room and pulled out different blouses and skirts. Yes - I love skirts.
They have the advantage that beneath them the air can circulate and in summer it is very 
pleasing to feel a fresh breeze on my calves and legs and further up.

I decided to take my light blue ankle long backless dress. The skirt has a long
slit on both sides to give sight to my legs when I walk. I really love it. 

And because of my unspecified feelings I left out the underwear. Yes. Nothing  below, 
just the blue dress. I wanted to enjoy the fresh morning.

I looked into the mirror and was very happy with what I saw. The dress was of real fine
quality and if one took a closer look one could see, that there was nothing below. 

Little secrets, only for the aware observer.

My breasts filled the upper part very pleasantly. My waist had perfect proportions 
and it looked really good, when I walked up and down with swinging hips.

Finally the decision for the shoes. Yes, very difficult.
The weather was fine. It was fresh but not cold. 

I choose my white gucci sandals. 
Only two semi broad straps, one over my forefoot and one over my instep, keep them secure. 

A 1cm platform is very comfortable for compensating the heel height of 5cm at 
least a little to make walking a joy. 

Inside the forefoot is padded as is the heel. All parts are made from real 
leather, the padding is from sheepskin, the outsole from cow-leather. 
The heel is a slightly elongated square, about 1.5cm broad and 2cm
long. 

John replaced the worn down plastic tip last year with 5mm cow-leather which is
much easier to get in the town than any plastic parts. 

Replacement is no issue anymore. I love them for strolling in the park
and in the house as well. A kind of all day in and out comfortable sandal.

Took a light jacket and left the house.

As I went out, I saw Janine sit in her small closet and sell tickets to a small group of  tourists.
She winked over to me and I greeted back.

Strolling away from the castle, I reached the part of the garden with rosebushes and 
rhododendrons. The path between the bushes is not fully plastered. It consists of 
larger, irregular paving stones. The size of about a quarter of a square meter separated
about fife to ten centimeters.

Because the bushes make the path shady, the nightly dew covered the stones. 
There were a few rosebuds on the path. Lying directly in front of me.

I don't know why, but I suddenly had the urge to tread on one of these rosebuds. 
Just to feel it beneath my foot. 

The one I choose was about the size of a walnut. I raised my right foot over it and
started lowering it slowly. It softly gave way. 

The more I shifted my weight over the rosebud, the more it flattened. It made a 
kind of sighing noise as some of its liquid was pressed out.

I felt the remains as a slight bulge beneath my foot and started with a slow swiveling
action to grind it steadily into the ground.

The bulge got flatter and flatter. After a few grinds it was barely noticeable.

I examined the remains of the rosebud afterwards. 

Only a dark red wet spot on the treadstone was left. Remains of green and red petals i
n between. 

I looked at the sole of my shoes and found only a wet spot where the plant fluids soaked
the leather sole, slightly reddish colored.

This excited me more. I started fingering me - what a luck that the long slit in my
dress allowed easy access. Although one could see what I was doing if someone
watches me, I didn't care. Chances were low.

And then I saw the snails.
There were plenty of them. Nearly every treadstone was occupied by at least one.

A strange feeling came up. Should I show them my power? I decided to give it try.

I entered one of the paving stones with just one snail. Stood there and watched the 
snail. Then I used my right foot to push it a little. It retracts immediately into 
its shell.

The feeling of excitement in my stomach grew. This tiny thing wouldn't even notice that
I tower over it!. 

I placed my foot in a position, where the snail was in the gap between my heel
and my forefoot. The slit in the dress gave sight to my leg and foot.

Looking down - thinking about the viewpoint of the snail. I drew the foot a little aside.

Now it had full view of my vulva - which filled slowly with salvia. I couldn't resist
and started rubbing my labia putting my hand through the long slit on one side of the dress.

I got wetter. Rolled my weight from one foot to the other and back. My hips swayed.
Wonderful to feel that power. 

My fantasy started again - what if I crush that little critter beneath my
foot? Would that be pleasant - at least for me? Will I feel something similar to the rosebud? 

Through that one centimeter sole? 
What weight can it resist? What happens with the shell,  the chalk, the soft parts of the it?
By the way - this are small snails. 

What about  the bigger one in the wine-hills?

While thinking about all these questions and standing there, shifting weight
from side to side, a tourist came closer to the rosebushes and sat down on one of the
benches. 

He was in about twenty meter distance and could not see what I did. - So I thought as
I noticed him.

Rubbing my clit, my desire to crush grew more and more. I felt my fluids starting to flow.

Again I raised my foot on the heel, hoovered a while over the snail and lowered it slowly.

There was one moment when any more lowering was not possible. At least not without resistance.

I fingered my labia more intensely. A slight moaning came from deep inside myself.
More pressure. A strange feeling in my belly, my pulse raised, my heart hammered, my arousal  
intensified.

Then came the crack. 

It was just a faint sound in the garden. But I heard it like you
hear with a stethoscope. My vulva was wet, I had the feeling of getting a waterfall
between my legs. I fluttered like a butterfly, my arousal came close to ecstasy.

My foot now lowered further. The small slit between stone and sole got smaller and smaller.

I could really feel the slow crushing of the snail. tiny vibrations were 
transmitted from the outer sole of my shoe to my sensual 
feet. It could resist much lesser pressure than the rosebud. 

I felt the sudden crushing collapse of the brittle shell.

My heart started to race, I did it. I deliberately crushed a snail underfoot. 

My pleasure grew and grew. 

Now, at the brink of orgasm, I further shifted my whole weight slowly over the snail.

Then there was a final crushing sound when my full weight was transferred 
over the remains as I finalized the step. 

I then ground the remains into the stone with a few twists until the crushing sounds faded away.

No resistance at all, no noticeable bulge under my foot. 
A wet spot on the stone was all I could see.

I was shivering from pleasure and surprise from what I did. This was more than I expected.

I entered the next treadstone. There were two snails about fife centimeters from the rim. 
One to the right and one to the left.

This time I knew what joy it could be to crush them into oblivion. The first one vanished in
slow swiveling and grinding motions under my left foot. Leaving nothing than a wet stain.

The other one was crushed under the right heel of my sandal. I placed my foot over it and
released my weight slowly. 

A crunching sound and again a shudder of pleasure in my belly as my heel reached the
ground, as all my weight munches it into nothing. 

I rotated my heel a little left and right to grind the remains deep into the sole and the stone.
Nothing was left.

At the third stone I only found one snail. This time I wanted to climax over it.
I got position exactly over the snail both feet left and right of it. Then I cowered down onto my heels.

The snail could not escape. I shifted my weight fully to the right.

My arousal was nearly unbearable. I placed the left forefoot over the snail. Then I pressed
my calves together, lowered the foot and shifted my weight back. 

While the crushing sound of the breaking shell reached my ears, an intense orgasm shivered my
body above the stone. 

I rocked forth and back om my feet, my butt on my heels and enjoyed the pleasures of my orgasm.

While I did this, I forgot the tourist on the bench in the park. 

As I raised up breathing heavily, he suddenly stood behind me. 

It was a younger men. Thin  blonde hair and a nice, open face. He glanced at me with his blue e
yes wide open - I stared at him. 

Then he started stammering:

"Wow - what a fantastic performance. I love to watch this". 

In one hand he had a piece of a chocolate chip cookie and in the other a package of these cookies
with a few left in it. 

As I came closer to him, his hands opened and the cookie and the package fell to the ground. 

I stared at him. Looking down I noticed that large wet spot on his
trousers. 

Feeling a little bit guilty, I started to explain in a soft tone :

"It was my first time - no bad experience at all but there is something I miss".

While saying this, I did one step further into his direction, exactly where he has dropped his meal.

I placed my left foot over the fallen single cookie and shifted slowly over while not letting him
out of sight. Doing as if I didn't even think about what happened now.

I could feel that soft brittle crunching as it crumbled under my sandal and noticed a strange glance in his eyes.

My toes spread slightly as I shifted my weight fully over it. 

I put my hand on my hip and smiled to him. 

Then I shifted back to the right and applied small grinding motions with my left foot, so that
the remains of the cookie got crunched even more. 

He stared in disbelief at my feet and the spot the cookie made. Then he crouched down and tried
to pick up the package of cookies while asking:

 "what... what is it that you miss?" 
 
"Not so fast, my friend", I said with a soft voice. A second step got me closer into his direction. 
This time I put my right foot gently on his left hand that was grabbing the cookie package.

I stood now close in front of him. 

He, crouching on the ground, his hand nailed between my foot and the cookie package. My lap
was just a few centimeters away from his face. I felt his minute movements to free his hand.

Slowly I shifted my body more and more over his hand, closer to his head.

He could not withstand my weight and I felt his grabbing hand giving way. The cookies crumbled in the package.

By further progressing my step I pushed my vulva against his nose and forehead. 

His hand flattened out now and he fell on his back. 

Lying on the ground beneath my skirt, I finished the step. 

One short moment my right foot pressed his hand fully onto the cookie package. 

Then I placed my left foot very close beside his face. A deep breath, a short moment of contemplation.
I slowly turned around.

During the whole time he had full view upwards under my skirt between my legs.
My wet vulva and labia in his plain sight.

He laid there like dead. Then he tried to get up. I helped him to get up by taking his hand.

Then I grabbed his head, bowed down and brought his ear close to my mouth quietly whispering: 

"It is your tongue deep in my pussy that has to do the finishing. But first you must be punished
for looking beneath my skirt, you dirty guy!"

I made a step forward and this time I seemingly unintentional crushed the cookie package again -
"Oh - I am so sorry!" I said. 

"Would you please be so kind and get the paper up and put it in the trashbin. The cookies seem to
be only birds food now" I softly asked him.

"Sure, Madam, no problem at all", he nodded. 
He got up the paper and shook the crumbled remains to the ground.  

I grabbed his arm and guided him in front of a near bench. 

There I sat down on the bench and ordered him 
to get on his knees in front of me. He silently obeyed my demand without hesitation.

I slipped out of my sandal and put my left foot onto his chest. Then I whispered: 

"Lick it and please it as good as you can. This is just the beginning"

He took my foot with both hands and raised it to his mouth. Then starting to lick it like mad. 

"No," I said. "not so fast. Enjoy it much more, do it with enjoyment. I will help you."

In the meantime, my right foot found its way into his crotch. 

I slightly stroke his balls gently from below. 

I felt his pleasure growing. His licking action become slower, and much more passionate. 

"I see, you get it" I said gentle.

Meanwhile the tourist traffic in the park increased. We had the luck of sitting on a
bench at a very shady place, so one could barely see us. Between us and the main path
were lots of bushes and small trees and only a few points were free to spot us.

This kind of doubt, the fear to get caught in action made the situation more arousing for me.

As I felt his dick growing more and more, I demanded him to open his belt and the zip of his pants. 

He did so immediately.

I grabbed his underwear with my toes and pulled it down. His cock was lying in front of my foot. 

Now I had access to his pleasure zone and stroke his cock softly with my
warm and soft foot. More and more. 
Pressing his balls and the tip of his penis, swiveling a little, rubbing up and down. 

I thoroughly caressed his dick with with my feet, massaged the tip of it with my big toe and
enjoyed the warm and wet feeling of his precum under my sole.

His licking slowed down more and more and then he started to quiver and shake and he shot his
load between my sole and his belly. 

I enjoyed the first shot of his warm fluid under my foot and smiled silently. 

There were three further shots, all with heavy loads. His trembling and quivering beneath my feet made me crazy.

I used both feet to massage all of his cum over his belly and breast until my feet and his skin soaked it up.

With a smile I said: "OK, this was the first part. Now the second one: Please clean my feet from your sperm."

His breath was heavy and he nodded and grabbed my right foot now with both hands. His tongue
did a great job, he licked it clean with passion, the sole, my heels and the space between my toes.
He progressed with the other one and did a good job.

Then he grabbed my sandals and put it on my feet again. He closed his pants and tried to get up, but
I lifted my right leg over his shoulder and countered his action.

I softly asked: "Do you think the lesson is over? Oh no this was just the introduction."

He gazed at me and replied: "I feel I could learn for my life in your garden - please show me what
you want, I will serve you as good as I can."

I nodded and smiled at him. He already kneed in front of me. I lifted both legs over his shoulder and said:

"Put your hands on the ground. From now on you are nothing more than a dog that wants to please his mistress"

He did as I demanded. His head was now exactly where it should be - at the height of my vulva.

I lifted my dress so he could directly stare at my open and wet labia. 

Then I crossed my legs behind his neck and and grabbed his head, squeezed it hard between my calves onto
my pussy. I whispered, feeling my arousal growing:

"Use your tongue now, as you learned in the first session."

I drew my skirt over his head and hid his body below - so no one could directly see what he did down there. 

It was not too early to cover him. 

Suddenly two elderly women walked around the corner on this departed path where our bench was located.

I was really shocked. 

To cover the body in front of me, I only straightened my legs over his back like I was sitting on a kind of deck-chair.

The two women were deep in discussion as they came around the corner. 
At first they didn't realize what was going on.

I was close to ecstasy now - watching the two ladies and feeling the deep digging of a hungry tongue.
I could not hold and had to breath hard and moan.

They stopped their step in disbelief as they grasped the situation.

I smiled at them. I think it was a strange kind of smile.

They were standing there and watching. I couldn't hold back
and released another deep moan as my tourist slowly worked his tongue deeper in my vulva. 

He hadn't noticed the incident at all. 
   
A sharp cry escaped my lustful shivering breast. Could not hold. 

The two ladies now resumed their walk. After a few steps one of them turned around
and smiled at me. Then they left my view.

Now I crossed my legs again behind his neck and clamped his head between my calves, grabbed
the back part of his head and pressed it against my vulva until he gasped for air, released
and pressed again and again. 

So great to feel his warm and heavy breathing on my pubic mound and his wet tongue deep into my pussy. 

My fluids filled his mouth and made a munching sound down there under my skirt as he sucked my lips in passion.
which aroused my further.

I think my play with him lasted over twenty minutes where I got three further orgasms. 

I squeezed his head between my calves, dug it deep into my crotch and smothered him until his
body trembled in depletion. It was a very satisfying game. 

His suffering fed my joy and  lust. He gave me a feeling of absolute power and control 
and my deep pleasure made this an unparalleled experience. 

My last orgasm was one of the most powerful I ever had. 

I enjoyed his service until his movements got slower and finally ceased.

He was totally exhausted, his breathing now got really heavy and I feared for his life.
Finally his body lost its tension, he could barely hold his head in position.

After I released him by uncrossing my legs, he stayed in the doggie position under my skirt for a while.
Slowly he got his breath back to normal.

I enjoyed the feeling of his warm breath on my skin and around my pubic region. My hands caressed his 
head.

As I took my legs from his back and set them aside he said: "you are so wonderful - 
I have never thought of something like this. So strong and full of life.
You are a great women. Truly powerful, like a goddess.
I want to thank you for these unforgettable lessons, mistress. Wish I could be your servant for ever".

"I thank you," I replied. "I enjoyed your very pleasing service down there. Maybe we well meet again.
Who knows. I hope I didn't hurt you too much when stepping onto your hand."

He stood up, a little bit unsure where to go. 
"No," he said, "it was a real pleasure. It may hurt one or two days, but these days will remind me on you.
Thank you and good bye!".

His hair was ruffled as he went away with wobbly steps. I preferred to stay on the bench for some time.
Wasn't sure if my legs would carry me safe. 

I inhaled the fresh breeze and watched the birds 
over there where they pecked the remains of the cookies from the path.

I must not mention, that this day was really relaxing. I wore my sandals all the day. 

They reminded me on every single experience of this day. 

In the hall, the polished marble floor gave the sole again a new finish.

In the evening Anne served me with a relaxing one hour foot massage with aromatic oils. 
We didnt talk this day, but I had the feeling as if she suspected something. 

I cannot hide my great pleasure after such deep and repeating orgasms. 

There was something in her eyes - maybe some envy because I did it without her. 

Anne is so sensitive - she knows without any words. I will talk to her the other day. 
This day was just mine - and maybe the tourists. Not to mention the snails.

There was just one thing that left me curious. What happened with the snails as they obliterated
beneath my soles? 

Later in the evening I examined my shoes a little closer.

What I found was really surprising. The leather soles were speckled with tiny splinters of the shells,
deeply pressed into. 

The leather soaked the fluids of the snails and I recognized two dark spots of different 
size in the middle of the soles - one and two snails, I remembered.

And one darker heeltip. With glitter. That's all. A little reddish from the rosebuds.

Maybe a few days or a month and it will be worn away. Or, maybe, refreshed.

The next day I missed my white Guccis. 
I smiled and thought about Anne.... 









 

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