Transgression ‘fession: when the sex client looks like a relative I met my phone client IRL and almost puked my guts out.

I had been talking dirty on the phone over a year when I had my first in-person session. My first client had a foot fetish. We had been talking for months and he desperately wanted to meet. During our calls he obsessed over my feet so I nicknamed him Foot Slut. Despite living several states away he eagerly agreed to pay not only my session rate but my travel expenses as well. My husband and I decided to rent a car and turn the trip into a mini-vacation.

Not having experience with in-persons I quizzed sex worker friends to come up with a price and protocol. FS happily sent a deposit and picture of himself, a photocopy of his driver’s license. The picture showed an average looking man but told me little else.

We drove to FS’s city and checked into a hotel. My husband was to wait in the car during the session. Safe calls and codewords were arranged. I showered and shaved, trying to feel sexy but failing. My husband left to wait in the rental and I waited for FS’s arrival.

The session itself was simple. FS wanted to crossdress and to worship my feet. In theory it seemed easy but I was nervous. Would those activities alone fill up a 2 1/2 hr session? Would he be happy with our meeting? Did I have what it took to be a pro-dom? My stomach churned and I paced the room, full of nerves.

FS called as he arrived. We were to meet at a back door in the hotel. I wore a simple blouse and long skirt. FS had a fantasy of watching me in boots so I wore a leather pair.

I walked out the door, saw a man standing there and almost puked. It was my Father-in-law! He was staring at me with his mouth gaping. What the hell was going on?! Had he found out what I did for a living? Was FS just a ruse for him to confront me? I wanted to scream. I wanted to run and hide. But I was frozen to the spot staring at my husband’s father. I was speechless and terrified.

Then he spoke. “Mistress?” In a flash I realized this was indeed the real Foot Slut and not my FIL. I greeted him by his slut name; he smiled and nodded. How many times had I seen that smile at my wedding, at family visits, in Christmas photos? I swallowed hard in hopes of quelling my nausea.

FS followed me inside and sighed in pleasure as he watched me walk in my boots. I walked slowly using this time to compose myself and review my options. FS was a good client. He was pleasant, reliable and easily satisfied. If I backed out of this session not only would I lose the money I would lose money from future calls. I had to go through with it.

Inside the room he fumbled with an envelope in his blazer pocket. While he was distracted I unabashedly stared at him. He was the splitting image of my Father-in-law. Same height, same build, same couch potato belly, same curly hair, same hair part, same round glasses, same facial hair, same taste in clothes, same taste in shoes. The similarity was shocking. They would have been mistaken for brothers if in the same room. The more I looked at him the more freaked out I became.

FS handed me my fee and I told him I’d be right back. I met my husband in the car. Handing him the cash I gasped “He looks just like your Dad!” He looked at me in shock and I said I’d tell him the details later.

As I walked back into the room I had to control an instinctive shudder. FS had stripped down and was kneeling on the floor nude. I did not need to see my FIL naked. I had to keep reminding myself he was a client and not a relative.

I was in the thick of it now. There was no turning back at this point. I changed into my Mistress clothes in the bathroom and tried to calm myself. FS changed into a crotchless fishnet body stocking coupled with bright red panties. Suddenly I was staring at my FIL crossdressed.

I forced an expression of pleasure on my face. Internally I wanted to scream. I couldn’t let him detect my real emotions because he wouldn’t understand. I could never tell him the real reason. It wasn’t the FS’s fault that he was the mirror image of my FIL. I was terrified my emotions would show so I wanted to keep his gaze off my face. Since his fetish was feet I struck a pose in my sexy heels and he barely looked up again.

On the whole the session went perfectly. He licked my heels, massaged and washed my feet, and licked my toes. While I made my safe calls he sat on the floor staring at my toes. He was gentle with my feet. He obeyed all my orders. I couldn’t have asked for a better behaved client. But every time I looked down all I could see was my FIL crossdressed and slurping at my feet. “He’s not my Father-in-law. He’s not my Father-in-law” became my silent mantra as the minutes slowly ticked by.

Finally, there was merely 15 minutes left. FS asked to masturbate; I gave permission. I took up a position on the bed to subtly indicate I wouldn’t be helping. FS sat on the floor stroking his cock while sucking on my heel. I tried to look pleased despite seeing the image of my FIL jerking off. He came in his panties then looked at me with an embarrassed expression. I smiled, saying he was a good foot slave.

FS got dressed and prepared to leave. Standing in the doorway he turned and said he’d like to see me again. Despite the resemblance, it was a good session, so I agreed.

After FS left I called my husband to tell him the session was over. He asked if FS had just left the hotel. I told him yes and he asked if FS was wearing a certain type of coat and described it. I said yes and he exclaimed “He looks JUST LIKE MY DAD!”

“I know! You should see him in fishnets.”