Foot Worship Chapter 10

As if they had already ordered the meal, a server soon arrived, pushing a tray. While the server was serving, I consciously glanced at Jerome. He kept his gaze fixed on his tablet, unbuttoning his sleeves and slowly rolling them up. Looking at his neat, cleanly organized sleeves, his phone placed squarely on the table, and his jacket hung neatly on a hanger in a designated spot, I could infer his personality to some extent. I felt needlessly self-conscious about my own jacket, which I had slung carelessly over the back of my chair.

“Please enjoy your meal.”

The server said goodbye and closed the door behind them. They must have asked for the whole course at once, as even the dessert was already on the table. Perhaps sensing my gaze, he spoke in a nonchalant tone.

“I asked for everything at once because I didn’t want to be interrupted during our conversation. Is that uncomfortable for you?”

“…No.”

“That’s a relief.”

I picked up the knife and fork to cut the steak. Seeing the plate stained with bloody juices, I narrowed my brows, wondering if he had ordered it rare. I usually preferred well-done, cooked through to the center, so my appetite vanished instantly. However, since it was hard to say I didn’t like it, I forced the small pieces of meat into my mouth and chewed. The basic foundation of this meeting was Dom and sub. It meant I wasn’t in a position to refuse just because I didn’t want to eat it.

Jerome, who had been watching me intently with one hand resting under his chin, suddenly stood up, grabbed a napkin, and held it to my mouth.

“Spit it out.”

“…”

“Open your mouth and spit it out.”

Seeing I was hesitant, he turned fierce, so I carefully opened my mouth and spat out the half-chewed meat. Jerome nonchalantly folded the napkin and placed it to one side of the table. He then called the server and asked to have the steak cooked well-done.

Heavy silence descended over the table. I felt like I was being tossed back and forth between cold and hot baths. He knew how to embrace a person gently, yet he clearly displayed a coercive side when necessary. I dropped my head toward the table, avoiding his gaze as he stared at me with an expressionless face. I was so overwhelmed by the atmosphere that I found it hard to even breathe properly.

I realized belatedly that I had come into this meeting thinking too lightly of it. Jerome might be different, but from my perspective, this wasn’t a table where I could eat comfortably. Perhaps this was Jerome’s way of evaluating me. He seemed to be observing and evaluating every word and action of mine—assessing whether I was suitable as his sub, or whether I was acceptable to be let inside the line he had drawn. Regardless of whether I was his “type” or not, it was a necessary process for people with our inclinations. Especially for a Dom with a cautious personality like Jerome, his standards for a sub would likely be even higher.

But this wasn’t something to blame Jerome for; I had to blame myself for agreeing to such a meeting without being prepared. I could have responded to his meeting request when I was ready, but my desire to get close to him quickly had taken precedence, and I had blindly agreed to his proposal without any preparation.

“Jin.”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

With a somewhat gloomy feeling, I lifted my head to look at Jerome. Instead of the deep teal pupils I had always seen, black pupils were staring straight at me. Because he had erased his natural eye color with colored contact lenses, it felt strangely alien. Just as Jerome explored me, I explored him.

“Do you regret coming here?”

“…I’m just so embarrassed to be sitting in front of Jerome looking like this.”

“I like it.”

“…”

“I liked that Jin readily agreed to my proposal, I liked that you admitted it and apologized without a single excuse or justification, I like how you keep checking my reaction, and I even like that you were forcing yourself to eat meat that isn’t to your taste.”

I quietly took a deep breath. A faint excitement permeated his voice as he listed the things he liked. I grabbed my chest without realizing it, fearing he might hear my heart pounding wildly.

“To be honest, I only see good points. I’ve really liked you since the first time I saw you.”

“…”

“So, you can eat comfortably.”

Just then, a knock was heard. I turned my head to look at the firmly closed door. Soon, the server entered and placed the steak, now cooked well-done, on the table. Perhaps because I knew I was being viewed favorably in his eyes, I finally felt a proper sense of hunger.

After the server left, I glanced at him once and picked up the fork and knife. I cut the well-cooked meat and put it in my mouth. Jerome watched me for a moment before starting his own meal. It was a quiet atmosphere where even the slight noise of knives and forks scraping the plates couldn’t be heard, but I didn’t feel as tense as I had earlier.

As we ate, we exchanged simple conversation. It was dry dialogue without any sexual points. I tried to answer his questions as sincerely as I could.

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Triangle gimbap and a drink.”

I finished the steak plate clean and cut a little of the blueberry mousse cake served for dessert, putting it into my mouth. Having eaten, my pants, which were already a size too small, felt even tighter, making me fidget in my seat.

Jerome watched me with intrigued eyes and smiled faintly. That smile felt as sweet as the cake melting away in my mouth. I felt like I was completely under a spell. But that didn’t feel bad. With people I had met for the purpose of play, we had only ever engaged in “body talk” and hadn’t spent time having such private conversations.

“What is your usual intensity level for play?”

Cough. Caught off guard by the sudden question about play, I choked. Jerome pushed the water glass toward me, his brows furrowing. I gulped down the water and thumped my chest with my fist. I was flustered by the question that had cut in abruptly without any warning in the middle of our normal conversation.

I rubbed my flushed face and watched for his reaction. Jerome’s style seemed slightly far from “hard.” On the contrary, I tended to enjoy slightly harder play.

Since I am muscular and have a duller physical sense, I tend to feel things well during hard play. I was struggling with how to answer, when Jerome tapped the table with his fist, as if telling me to concentrate.

“…I tend to play at a normal intensity.”

“Normal, are you sure?”

“If the other person plays softly, I’m able to adjust to that, and mostly I try to aim for normal…”

Since I had no information about what style of play Jerome favored, I spoke evasively, as if to say I could adjust to him. Regardless, the initiative in play usually belonged to the Dom, and the sub had little authority anyway. It wasn’t as if I could protest or refuse if he played softly. If it didn’t fit, the only answer was not to meet.

“I’d like you to answer clearly and accurately without any lies. You don’t need to worry about my reaction.”

“…I prefer hard play.”

At my answer, Jerome let out a laugh with an unknown meaning and glanced at his wristwatch. Then, he stood up, came behind me, and stood there. As I tried to turn my head, Jerome grabbed my shoulders, fixing my body in place. The lingering scent of the perfume he liked to use seeped softly into my sense of smell.

“Any resistance to kissing or penetration?”

“…I don’t prefer kissing, but penetration is fine.”

“Do you like hand spanking?”

“Yes.”

In truth, I preferred hands over tools. I loved the sound of the impact, the vibration of the skin, the heat felt from the hand, and even more so, the way he would relentlessly crush and mash the heated area. Sometimes, I would even feel a sense of ecstasy that surpassed mere pleasure.

“How about spit, golden, or scat?”

“I don’t like golden or scat as they are disgusting.”

“Is spit okay?”

“Yes. I think that much is fine.”

“How about being tied up?”

“I like it.”

Jerome, who had reached out his hand unexpectedly, pressed down below my navel. I held my breath without realizing it and opened my eyes wide. It was just a touch, yet the world began to spin before me.

“How deep have you been penetrated? About here?”

“Hic, no.”

“Then, here?”

“Ah, ugh.”