This story is inspired by the stereotypical rebel gothic girl and the often-overused trope of the evil stepmother who wants to take everything and make her stepdaughter’s life a nightmare. In this story, we see Kinsley a 25-year-old gothic woman being mistreated by her stepmother, who is portrayed as a typical gold digger looking to take everything from her. The story explores the dynamics of power and control in a dysfunctional family setting, and the behavior of the gothic girl slowly succumbing to her abusive stepmother. It challenges the common notion of family dynamics and delves into the darker aspects of human relationships.
The rebellious gothic woman was a striking figure in her mid-20s, with dark hair that cascaded down her back in waves. Her hair was often styled in a messy, yet alluring way, with strands framing her sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. She had a pale complexion that contrasted with her dark hair, and her lips were often painted black or dark red, matching her overall gothic style.
Kinsley, the gothic woman, was tall and lean, with a slender frame that spoke of her active lifestyle. Her wardrobe consisted mostly of black clothing, with leather jackets, corsets, and dark skinny jeans being her go-to choices. She was an artist at heart and often expressed her creativity through her drawings and tattoos, which adorned her arms and legs.
Despite her rebellious nature, there was something captivating about her, and it was clear that she carried herself with an air of confidence and independence. Her piercing gaze seemed to hint at a fierce determination and a refusal to be boxed into anyone else’s expectations or ideals.
However, not everything about her life was sunshine and rainbows. The Gothic woman felt trapped in her own home. She had nowhere else to go, no money to rent a new apartment or to pay for anything else. Her deceased father had left everything to her stepmother, Chloe, so she couldn’t even claim any inheritance.
As much as she despised her stepmother’s bossy and demeaning attitude, she had no choice but to continue living under her roof, until she found a way to become more financially independent and get her own place. She spent most of her days locked up in her bedroom, drawing and listening to music to escape from the reality of her situation.
The stepmother knew that she had the Gothic woman under her thumb, and she relished in her power over her. She would often call for her to come and serve her every whim, from bringing her food to doing several house chores. Kinsley had no choice but to obey her since she didn’t even help in paying the household bills.
The stepmother was a striking woman in her mid-40s with a toned and curvy figure that spoke to years of taking care of her body. Her long blond hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded down her back, framing her angular face and piercing blue eyes. She had full lips and high cheekbones, and her skin was smooth and luminous, with a hint of a sun-kissed glow.
But perhaps her most remarkable feature was her feet. She wore a US size 10 shoe, and her feet had high arches and long, delicate toes that were perfectly manicured with a glossy red polish. Her skin was soft and supple, with no blemishes or imperfections. It was clear that she took great care of her feet, as they were always immaculately groomed and maintained.
Despite her attractive appearance, Kinsley’s stepmother had a bossy, manipulative attitude toward her stepdaughter. She would often belittle her and make her feel inferior, using her physical beauty and wealth as a means of control.
Her stepmother was constantly coming up with new ways to assert her authority over the Gothic woman. Whether it was ordering her to clean the house, do laundry, or serve her meals, she never missed an opportunity to remind her of her place as a servant.
And if the Gothic woman ever dared to disobey or question her stepmother’s orders, she would be met with a cold, calculating gaze that made her feel small and insignificant.
Despite the stepmother’s cruel treatment, the Gothic woman was unable to resist her charms. There was something about her that made her feel weak and vulnerable, something that kept her coming back for more, even when it meant sacrificing her own happiness and freedom.
One day, the Gothic girl was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone and ignoring her stepmother’s orders to clean up the living room.
“Get up and do your chores, young lady,” the stepmother scolded, tapping her foot impatiently.
The Gothic girl rolled her eyes and begrudgingly sat up, ready to argue back. But as she looked over at her stepmother’s feet, something inside her shifted. She had never really paid attention to them before, but now she couldn’t look away. The smooth, milky white soles with high arches and long toes were captivating.
“What are you staring at?” the stepmother snapped, noticing Kinsley’s gaze.
“Nothing,” the Gothic girl mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling of awe that had washed over her.
But from that moment on, she couldn’t stop thinking about her stepmother’s feet. She found herself watching her stepmother’s every move, hoping to catch a glimpse of those perfect soles again. And as much as she tried to fight it, she started to feel a strange sense of admiration and even attraction towards her stepmother.
It wasn’t long before the stepmother picked up on the Gothic girl’s new behavior. She saw the way she would stare at her feet during meals, the way she would linger in the living room hoping for a chance to massage and sniff them. And she saw an opportunity to use her stepdaughter’s newfound fascination to her advantage.
“I know you’ve been admiring my feet,” the stepmother said one day, as she dangled her shoes off her toes.
The Gothic girl’s face flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny it. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay,” the stepmother interrupted, smirking. “In fact, I could use someone to help take care of them. Would you like that?”
The Gothic girl’s heart leaped with excitement at the prospect of being able to touch and pamper those perfect soles. “Yes,” she said, eagerly. “I would love that.”
And with that, the stepmother began to manipulate and control the Gothic girl with the promise of being able to serve and worship her feet.
As the days passed, The Gothic woman couldn’t help but feel more and more drawn to her stepmother’s beauty and grace, and her feet were a particular point of fascination for her. She couldn’t resist the urge to touch and kiss them and was always eager to please her stepmother by giving her foot massages and attending to her every need.
The Gothic woman felt a sense of shame wash over her as she realized how she had been treating her stepmother all this time. She had been so focused on her own rebelliousness that she had failed to see the beauty and strength in her stepmother.
The next day, when her stepmother asked her to run an errand for her, the Gothic woman eagerly complied. As she walked down the street, she thought about how she could make it up to her stepmother for her past behavior.
When she returned, she found her stepmother sitting on the couch, her feet up on the coffee table. The Gothic woman couldn’t help but stare at her stepmother’s feet, admiring their beauty. Her stepmother noticed her gaze and smirked.
“Like what you see, dear?” her stepmother said teasingly.
The Gothic woman blushed and looked away, feeling embarrassed.
“Don’t be ashamed,” her stepmother said, sitting up and pointing to the floor in front of her. “Come get on your knees and give me a good foot massage while we talk.”
The Gothic woman hesitated for a moment before getting on her knees down next to her stepmother. Her stepmother put her feet up and leaned in close so her stepdaughter could begin massaging her barking dogs.
“I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to live with,” her stepmother said softly. “But I do care about you. And I want us to have a good relationship.”
The Gothic woman nodded, while still massaging her soles and sniffing them, feeling grateful for her stepmother’s kindness.
“From now on, I want you to be my maid and serve me in every way,” her stepmother said, looking into her eyes. “And in return, I’ll take care of you and make sure you’re happy.”
The Gothic woman’s heart swelled with gratitude and she nodded eagerly. She showered her stepmother’s stinky soles with kisses as an act of respect and to show that she was willing to do anything to make things right with her stepmother.
As the stepmother continued watching TV, she suddenly moved her feet out of her step-daughter’s hand and quickly placed her feet on her face, and used her feet to maneuver her 25-year-old stepdaughter to lay on her back. As soon as she was laying on the floor the stepmother started rubbing her soles all over The Gothic Woman’s face. To her surprise, the gothic girl started to enjoy it as she took in the intoxicating natural scent of her stepmother’s feet and began to kiss and lick them. The stepmother couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s newfound enjoyment of being used as a footstool.
“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” the stepmother said with a chuckle. “I never would have guessed that my rebellious step-daughter would turn into such a devoted foot worshipper.”
The gothic girl blushed at the comment, but she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the newfound pleasure that was making her addicted to serving and worshiping her stepmother’s feet.
Moments like these became a tradition in that household. The Gothic woman was loving every time her stepmother’s feet soles were plastered upon her face. To her having those perfect creamy-white soles on her face with their intoxicating smell was like being in heaven.
And so, she began to serve her stepmother with devotion and respect. She cleaned the house, cooked her meals, and tended to her every need. And in return, her stepmother allowed her to indulge in her sexual fantasies with her feet.
Over time, the Gothic woman began to see her stepmother in a new light. She admired her strength and beauty and was grateful for the guidance and love she provided. And when she worshipped her stepmother’s feet, she no longer felt shame or embarrassment for doing so. Instead, she saw them as a symbol of her stepmother’s power and beauty and felt a sense of awe and respect.
One day, while the stepmother was out shopping, the Gothic woman was cleaning the kitchen when she stumbled upon an old photo album in a drawer. She started flipping through the pages and came across a picture of her stepmother with her feet up on a desk, and her now-deceased father on his knees massaging them.
Suddenly, the pieces started to come together in the Gothic chick’s mind. She realized that her stepmother had been manipulating her all along, using her infatuation with her feet to make her into a servant. She felt a mix of anger and disgust. “So that was how she turned my dad into a wishy-washy husband and forced him to give her everything.” the Gothic girl realized.
She connected the dots and found out that history was repeating itself! Her stepmother was trying to turn her into an obedient foot slave just like she did several years ago with her dad.
When her stepmother came home, the Gothic girl confronted her.
“You’ve been using me this whole time, haven’t you?” she said.
The stepmother just smirked. “Oh, my dear, you finally figured it out? I knew it was only a matter of time before you realized what a good thing you had.”
“I’m leaving,” the Gothic girl said, determined. “I won’t be your servant anymore.”
The stepmother’s face turned cold. “You can’t leave, you belong to me,” she said, pulling out a contract. “You don’t have a dime in your pockets and anywhere to go! Your dad signed all his property, money, and belongings to me and left you with nothing. I have control over your life.”
The Gothic girl felt a wave of panic wash over her as she looked at the contract. She knew her dad had probably signed it in a moment of weakness in which her stepmother probably also used her majestic feet and took advantage of his foot fetish to turn him into her slave.
“I won’t be your slave like my father was!” she said, tearing up the contract. “I’m leaving.”
The stepmother’s face twisted in rage. “By the way that was a copy of the original contract! You can’t leave, I won’t let you!”
But the Gothic girl was determined. She gathered her belongings and fled the house, never looking back. She realized that her infatuation with her stepmother’s feet had blinded her to the reality of the situation, and she vowed never to let anyone take advantage of her like that again.
After the incident with her stepmother, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She crashed for a few days at a friend’s house while she began researching ways to become financially independent and escape her toxic household for good. One day, she stumbled upon a job opening for a tattoo designer at a nearby tattoo parlor. Despite not having any formal education or training in the field, she decided to apply, determined to follow her dreams.
To her surprise, the tattoo studio was impressed with her creative portfolio of macabre illustrations and offered her the job. With her new income, she was able to move out of her stepmother’s house and start a new life. She even found a new community of fellow gothic artists who shared her interests.
As she settled into her new life, she often reflected on the struggles she had faced in the past. But now, she was finally able to live on her own terms and embrace her true identity. She continued to create eerie works of art, inspired by her experiences and the darkness within her.
The gothic woman learned that she didn’t have to conform to societal expectations and could be successful by being true to herself. She had found her place in the world, and nothing could stop her now.
Well… that’s what she thought at least back then. A year after she was beginning to settle into her new independent life she receives a mysterious visitor, someone from her past, into her apartment.
” Wait a minute. I’m coming! ” the gothic woman said as her doorbell rang. Kinsley thought it was probably just a salesman or some boy scouts selling cookies around the neighborhood, therefore, she didn’t even think about checking who it was on the peephole before unlocking her door.
As soon as she opened her door she was shocked. It was her stepmother who came to visit her!
The gothic woman’s stepmother arrived at her new apartment unexpectedly. She had always been cruel to her stepdaughter, and Kinsley, the gothic woman, knew that she was in for a rough time.
Before Kinsley could say anything the stepmother walked into Kinsley’s new apartment, looking around and sneering at the decor. “Oh, how charming,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I see you haven’t changed your taste at all. I don’t know how you can stand living in this dump.”
The Gothic woman glared at her stepmother but didn’t say anything.
As soon as her stepmother entered the apartment, she made her way to the couch, removed her heels, and put her feet up.
“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” she exclaimed. “You, come here and give them a good sniff.”
The gothic woman was horrified. She couldn’t believe that her stepmother would ask her to do such a thing. But she knew that there was no point in arguing, after all as soon as she saw her stepmother’s feet soles her sexual urges talked louder, so she reluctantly made her way over to the couch.
“Come on, hurry up,” her stepmother said impatiently. “I haven’t got all day.”
The gothic woman took a deep breath and held her nose as she sniffed her stepmother’s feet. While she usually enjoyed her stepmother’s feet’ stinky smell. This time they stank so bad that she was almost passing out. They smelled terrible, and she had to fight the urge to gag.
“Ugh, that’s disgusting,” she said, trying to hold back her tears. She felt trapped, it felt as if she was back home again with her stepmother controlling her life.
“Shut up and keep sniffing,” her stepmother snapped.
The gothic woman knew that she had to do as she was told if she wanted to avoid any further punishment. She continued to sniff her stepmother’s feet as tears streamed down her face.
An hour passed, and suddenly her stepmother lifts her feet from the gothic girl’s face.
“That’s better,” her stepmother said with a smirk. “Now go and make me a cup of tea.”
The gothic woman nodded silently, looking into her stepmother’s eyes and then she got up and made her way to the kitchen. As she made the tea, she couldn’t help but think about how unfair her life was. She knew that she had to find a way to escape from her stepmother’s abuse, but she didn’t know how. After all one part of her was enjoying being bossed around and used as a foot caretaker by her stepmother. She was in conflict with herself. But when thinking logically she knew, that every time she gave in to her sexual fantasies of allowing her stepmother to treat her like shit, she was slowly succumbing to becoming her stepmother’s foot servant forever.
The gothic woman continued to make tea, lost in thought about her predicament. She had been living with her stepmother for years, enduring her constant abuse and manipulation. However, despite having her own place now her stepmother still took advantage of her foot fetish to crawl back into her life. Knowing that she needed to escape, a part of her was conflicted. She had grown accustomed to the mistreatment, and in some twisted way, it made her feel important and aroused to be needed as a caretaker for her stepmother’s pretty feet. But deep down, she knew that this wasn’t the healthy lifestyle she wanted, and she needed to find a way out.
The gothic woman returned to her living room with the cup of tea in her hand, her stepmother was sitting on the sofa with her feet up. “Good girl,” her stepmother said, taking the tea and sipping it. “But don’t think that just because you brought me tea, just like when you lived in my house, you’re done for the night.” She put the cup down and motioned for her stepdaughter to come closer. “My feet are still tired, and you know what that means,” she said, with a hint of sadistic pleasure in her voice.
The gothic woman’s heart sank. She had hoped that her stepmother would be satisfied with the tea and let her go, but deep down, she knew that was too good to be true. “Yes, stepmother,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Come here and give me a foot rub,” her stepmother said, gesturing to her feet. The gothic woman sighed and knelt down in front of her stepmother, lifting off her feet and revealing her tired soles. “Now, be a good girl and take care of my feet, while I enjoy my tea,” her stepmother said, leaning back and closing her eyes.
The gothic woman hesitated for a moment, but as soon as her stepmother moved her soles inches away from her face and she sniffed her glorious smell she had the urge to take her stepmother’s feet in her hands and began to massage them. While she massaged she would make sure to keep her feet as close as possible to her face so she could keep sniffing them. She tried to focus on the physical sensation, the feeling of her stepmother’s soft skin, and the way her muscles responded to her touch, but her mind kept drifting to darker thoughts. She was trapped, she realized. Her stepmother had a hold on her, and no matter how much she tried to resist or move far away from her, she always ended up doing what her stepmother wanted. It was a sick, twisted game, and she didn’t know how to break free, thanks to her foot fetish.
Several minutes passed and her stepmother asked her to lie on her back again. So she could use her face again as a footstool while she watched TV and enjoyed her Tea.
As the Gothic woman laid on the ground, her stepmother put her feet on her face, using her as a human footrest. “How does that feel, my dear?” the stepmother asked with a chuckle.
The Gothic woman let out a muffled groan, but her eyes sparkled with pleasure. “It feels good, actually,” she replied, her voice somewhat muffled by the feet on her face.
The stepmother laughed. “I thought you’d like it. You always were a bit of a weird one.”
The Gothic woman smiled up at her stepmother, taking in the sight of her perfectly pedicured toes, now resting on her face. “I don’t mind being weird, as long as I get to experience things like this,” she said.
The stepmother let out a menacing giggle while shifting her feet slightly, and the Gothic woman let out a small gasp. “Oh, that feels amazing,” she said. “Please, keep doing it.”
The stepmother grinned, happy to have found a new way to bond with her stepdaughter. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, my dear,” she said. “You know, I always thought you were too closed off. But this, this is a step in the right direction.”
The Gothic woman nodded, still enjoying the feeling of her stepmother’s feet on her face. “Yes, it is. Thank you for showing me again where I truly belong again,” she said.
The stepmother let out a loud giggle, happy to have made her stepdaughter submissive to her again. “You’re welcome, my dear. I knew you wouldn’t be able to live on your own for too long without having the chance to sniff, kiss and lick my beautiful feet again.” while repositioning her feet on her stepdaughter’s face and mashing her facial features with her meaty soles.
The two of them continued in this manner for some time, watching TV while the Gothic woman’s face served as her stepmother’s footrest. And for the first time in a long time, both of them were truly happy. The Gothic girl was starting to realize that she couldn’t live without having those beautiful soles on her face every day. She didn’t care if she would have to endure her stepmother bossy and demeaning attitude towards her.
As the night wore on, the Gothic woman sniffed, kissed, and massaged her stepmother’s feet with a mix of reluctance and desire. She couldn’t help but feel aroused by the whole situation, even though she knew it was wrong, after all her evil stepmother was taking advantage of her foot fetish to take control of herself again. But the feeling of her stepmother’s soft skin against her face and fingertips was too much to resist. The Gothic woman found herself lost in the sensation of massaging her stepmother’s feet. Despite feeling conflicted about her desire for this taboo act, she couldn’t help but feel aroused by the touch of her stepmother’s soft skin. She seemed to take really good care of her feet.
Her stepmother let out a contented sigh. “You’re so good at this, my dear. Maybe you should consider becoming a professional foot masseuse instead of that stupid job of yours of inking people with tattoos,” she said with a chuckle.
The Gothic woman blushed, feeling a sense of pride in her skill. “Thank you, stepmother. I’m glad I can make you feel good.”
The stepmother stretched out her feet and let out a sigh of contentment. “I think it’s time for us to get some sleep. You can sleep at the foot of the bed, and I’ll take the rest,” she said, patting her stepdaughter’s head with her feet, who was still on her knees, and getting up from the sofa.
The Gothic woman hesitated for a moment, feeling a sense of disappointment for not having the courage to stand up to her and tell her that this was her apartment and she would be the one to sleep on the bed, and that her stepmother could sleep on the living room’s couch.
As the stepmother was walking towards the bedroom she turned around and told her stepdaughter “Don’t worry my dear, I will give you the privilege of being able to sniff, kiss lick and massage my feet while I sleep”, she said that with a grin.
As soon as her stepmother said those magic words. The stepdaughter quickly stood up again and followed her stepmother toward the bedroom. She was aroused and excited about the idea of being able to serve her all night long while she slept.
The Gothic woman followed her stepmother into the bedroom, excited at the prospect of being able ta serve her all night long. As the stepmother got into bed, the Gothic woman quickly got down on her knees and started massaging her feet again, kissing
and licking them whenever she got the chance. The stepmother moaned in pleasure, enjoying the feeling of her stepdaughter’s tongue and lips on her skin.
As the night went on, the Gothic woman found herself getting more and more turned on by the whole situation. She couldn’t believe how much she was enjoying herself, even though
she knew it was wrong. But she couldn’t help it – the feeling of her stepmother’s soft skin against her tongue was too much to resist.
At one point; the stepmother woke up and caught her stepdaughter staring at her feet with a hungry expression on her face. “You really do love my feet, don’t you?” she said, laughing.
The Gothic woman blushed, feeling embarrassed at being caught. “I’m sorry, stepmother. I can’t help it. Your feet are just so beautiful,” she said.
The stepmother smiled. looking down at her stepdaughter with a mixture of amusement and affection. “It’s alright, my dear. I love having my feet worshipped by someone who appreciates them. And I have to admit, you’re quite good at it.”
The Gothic woman felt a sense of pride at her stepmother’s praise. She knew that she was doing something wrong, but she couldn’t help how she felt. She loved her stepmother’s feet, and she loved being able to serve her in this way.
As the night wore on, the two of them drifted off to sleep, the stepmother with a contented mind knowing that she had completely conquered her stepdaughter.
The following day, the Gothic woman woke up early and quietly slipped out of bed to start making breakfast. She wanted to show her stepmother that she was a good maid, even outside of serving her feet. As she cooked, the stepmother lazily stretched in bed, enjoying the feeling of her stepdaughter’s hands on her feet.
“This smells delicious,” the stepmother said, as the Gothic woman brought her breakfast in bed. “You really are a talented maid.”
“Thank you, stepmother,” the Gothic woman replied, as she continued to massage her stepmother’s feet. She felt a sense of pride at her stepmother’s praise, but she also couldn’t help but feel a sense of submission to her stepmother’s authority.
Suddenly, the stepmother sat up in bed, a serious expression on her face. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, my dear,” she said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your future, and I have a proposition for you.”
The Gothic woman looked at her stepmother with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
“What is it?” she asked.
I want you to give away all your money, your apartment, and your car, and quit your job as a tattoo designer. I want you to come back home, and live with me as my maid, full-time. You can serve me and my feet all
day, every day,” the stepmother said, with a sly smile.
The Gothic woman’s heart raced with excitement at the prospect of serving her stepmother full-time. She couldn’t believe her luck. “Yes, stepmother, I’ll do it,” she said, eagerly while showering her stepmother’s feet soles with kisses.
The stepmother’s smile widened. “Good girl,” she said, as she patted the Gothic woman’s head with her left foot.
The stepmother’s proposition was both alluring and concerning to the Gothic woman. After all, she worked so hard to escape from her and have her own place. But things were different now. Unlike before, she now enjoyed the thrill of being used as her stepmother’s foot slave and obeying her whims. However, when thinking clearly and with rationality she knew that the idea of giving up all of her possessions and her independence was daunting and a stupid thing to do. But at the same time, the thought of being able to serve her stepmother full-time was thrilling to her. She had never felt so happy and fulfilled as when she was at her stepmother’s feet, and the idea of being able to do that every day was almost too good to be true.
However, the Gothic woman couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to her stepmother’s proposal. She had always been bossy and controlling, but this felt different, almost manipulative. The Gothic woman didn’t know if she could trust her stepmother, but she also didn’t know if she could resist the lure of serving her full-time.
In the end, the Gothic woman made the difficult decision to accept her stepmother’s proposal. She gave away all of her possessions, quit her job, and moved in with her stepmother. She spent every moment of every day serving her stepmother, worshiping her feet, cooking her meals, cleaning her house, and doing whatever else she asked of her.
Kinsley signed the apartment, that she worked so hard to buy, for her stepmother. and went back to live with her as her foot servant. Since then, the stepmother decided to rent her newly acquired property to profit from it.
At first, the Gothic woman was happy. She felt fulfilled and content serving her stepmother, and she loved the feeling of submission and obedience that came with it. But as time went on, she began to realize that her stepmother’s demands were becoming more and more unreasonable. She was expected to be at her beck and call every moment of the day, and she was never allowed to leave the apartment without her stepmother’s permission.
The Gothic woman began to feel trapped, and she started to regret her decision to give up her independence. She missed her old life, and she longed to be able to make her own decisions again. But she also couldn’t deny the intense arousal she felt every time her stepmother ordered her around and used her face as her footstool, and she knew that she could never leave her side. In the end, the Gothic woman was stuck between her desire for freedom and her devotion to her stepmother, due to her sexual fantasies, unsure of what the future held for her.
The Gothic woman looked at her stepmother, her eyes widening in shock. “What is that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“It’s a chastity device, my dear,” her stepmother replied with a sly smile. “It’s a tool to help you control your desires and keep you more docile and obedient.”
The Gothic woman’s heart raced with fear and confusion. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But…I don’t want that,” she stammered. “I don’t want to wear something like that.”
Her stepmother’s expression hardened. “You don’t have a choice, my dear,” she said firmly. “If you want to continue living here and serving me, then you will wear it. It’s for your own good, trust me.”
The Gothic woman felt a sense of helplessness wash over her. She didn’t know what to do or say. She didn’t want to wear the device, but she also didn’t want to lose her new life with her stepmother.
“Please, stepmother,” she pleaded. “Isn’t there another way? I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t make me wear that.”
Her stepmother’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this is the only way,” she said coldly. “If you can’t follow my rules, then you’ll have to leave. I believe you don’t want to do that since you gave away all your belongings to me. Therefore you will be forced to live on the streets.”
The Gothic woman felt tears streaming down her face as her stepmother forced the device onto her. She felt humiliated and degraded, but she also knew that she had no choice. From that moment on, her life was no longer her own. She was completely under her stepmother’s control, and there was nothing she could do to escape it.
As time went on, the Gothic woman grew more and more docile and obedient, as her stepmother had intended. She became a perfect maid, serving her stepmother’s every whim without question. And though when thinking straight she still felt a deep sense of shame and humiliation for wearing the device and giving all her belongings to her stepmother, she also couldn’t deny that it had changed her for the better. She was a better person, more focused and disciplined, and more devoted to her stepmother and her majestic feet than ever before.
One day, the gothic woman was laying on the floor with her stepmother’s feet on her face while Chloe, her stepmother was writing an excel report for her work.
The gothic woman continues to smooth her stepmother’s feet soles with her face as the stepmother looks down at her with a smirk on her face. “That’s it, my little pet,” she says, “show me how obedient you can be.” The gothic woman remains silent, still feeling the pressure of her stepmother’s feet on her face. “Now, what was it you were complaining about?” the stepmother asks, lifting her feet slightly so the gothic woman can speak.
“The chastity device,” the gothic woman says, her voice shaking. “I don’t like wearing it all the time. It’s uncomfortable.”
The stepmother’s smirk disappears, replaced by a look of annoyance. “I’ve told you before,” she says, “you need to wear it to control your urges. You know what happens when you don’t. You become a very naughty girl, that doesn’t know how to control her sexual urges”. Irritated the stepmother stomped her stepdaughter’s face and started grinding her soles on her face.
The stepmother continued to grind her feet onto the gothic woman’s face while she angrily spoke, “You know I don’t tolerate complaints from my servants. if you don’t like the device, you can leave my house and never come back.” The gothic woman whimpered in fear and pain as she continued to lay under the desk with her stepmother’s feet rubbing all her facial features.
“You also know how much I enjoy having control over you. And that chastity device is just another way for me to exert my dominance over you.’ The gothic woman nods and mumbles under her stepmother’s feet, too afraid to speak.
After a few moments of silence, the stepmother’s tone softened as she chuckled, “But I know you won’t leave, will you? You know you belong to me now, and I have complete control over you.” The gothic woman nodded her head in agreement, while tears were streaming down her face she was feeling so aroused by the whole humiliating and demeaning attitude her stepmother was having towards her.
The stepmother continues, ‘But since you’re being so obedient, I’ll let you take it off tonight. As long as you promise to do everything I say.’ The gothic woman nods eagerly, relieved at the thought of being free from the device. ‘Now,’ the stepmother says, ‘why don’t you show me just how sorry you are by kissing my feet?’ The gothic woman nods and starts to shower her stepmother’s feet with kisses in a desperate attempt to show how truly sorry she was for being so selfish and spoiled. ‘That’s a good girl,’ the stepmother says, her laughter growing louder as she watches the gothic woman’s submission. ‘Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you take off that device more often.’ And with that, the gothic woman knows that she’ll do anything her stepmother asks to be allowed some free time without having to wear that chastity device.”
The gothic woman nods silently, still having her face rubbed by her stepmother’s feet soles. The stepmother sighs, then lean back in her chair. “Fine,” she says, “I’ll make a deal with you. If you wear the device without complaining for the next week, I’ll let you take it off for a day each week. But if you complain again, you’ll wear it for two weeks straight.”
The gothic woman nods, grateful for the opportunity to have a break from the device. “Thank you,” she says softly while placing more soft kisses into her stepmother’s stinky soles, “you’re so nice to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my stepmother”.
The stepmother laughs, her mood lightening again. “You’re such a good little girl,” she says, patting the gothic woman’s head with her foot. “Now go clean the kitchen. And don’t forget to keep wearing the device.”
Feeling pleased with the gothic woman’s submission, the stepmother lifted her feet off the gothic woman’s face and placed them on the floor. Allowing Kinsley, the gothic woman to get up and clean the kitchen. “Now, get your butt up and go clean the kitchen. It ain’t gonna clean itself! And remember, if you dare to ever complain again about your chastity device, I will make sure you regret it.
In the end, the Gothic woman knew that she would never be truly free again. But she had found a new sense of purpose and meaning in her life, and for that, she was grateful. Their BDSM relationship could be summed up as an exchange of pleasures between the involved parties, while Kinsley’s stepmother enjoyed bossing her around and demeaning her. Kinsley, the gothic woman, enjoyed being able to worship her stepmother’s feet all the time and be bossed around by her. It seems that each one got their end of the bargain.
The End
Did The Gothic chick take the right decisions? One thing is for sure, nothing is free in this world… she always knew of the risks and consequences of what she was getting herself into. Yet she still let herself succumb to her sexual pleasures and gave away everything. Was she a fool to become a slave to her sexual fantasies and foot fetish, which turned her into a complete servant for her stepmother? Wouldn’t it be better if she had found a girlfriend, who respected her as a person, to indulge herself in her foot fetish instead of giving away all her possessions and her career as a tattoo designer and being doomed to be forever an indentured slave for her stepmother Chloe? Well, that’s up for the readers to decide and think about.