| Back To School I thought that I wouldn't have anymore trouble from Kellie after the way she beat and humiliated me over the weekend. Still, I realized everyone at school would know about it, and I wasn't sure how to respond. I decided just to be as low key as possible and ignore or laugh off any situations that would be potentially embarrassing. The night had been difficult for me to accept. I mean, the mere thought of getting my ass kicked by a girl was bad enough. Even worse was the idea that it had been Kellie who had physically destroyed me using just her feet. The humiliation of her stepping on my face and ******* me to lick her feet in front of lots of people was the ultimate disgrace. Jesus, I was a lot bigger than she was. I should have been able to take a girl. Still, after that night, I didn't want any part of her. I would suffer the humiliation from school until it blew over. At least she had gotten her victory and wouldn't have any need to do anything else to me. When I got to school that day, everybody, I mean everybody, had something to say or a question to ask. Annette, a girl I used to date (and dumped unceremoniously), was the first to come up to me. By the smile on her face, I knew she had heard. As she walked up, she brushed her blonde hair from her eyes and bit her lip slightly, as if she were trying to decide how she wanted to begin. It didn't take long. "Hi, Tim," she began, "I hear you got into a fight this weekend, and your face is bruised. What happened? Did some big powerful weightlifter make those bruises on your face?" I thought for a second then decided on an approach. "Weightlifter? What are you talking about? You mean Kellie's date? I don't know if he is a weightlifter, but he seemed to know karate or something." Annette's eyes opened wider, her mouth parting in a surprised smile. "Kellie's date?! Wait a minute, someone told me it was Kellie, and not her date, who messed you up like that!" I looked shocked. "Where did you hear that from?" I asked. "Jane. She said Monica told her about it." "That figures. No, it was her boyfriend. And he hit me before I was ready, or else this might not have happened. Annette looked at me quizzically, deciding, it seemed, whether her source of information had been reliable. "Are you sure?" she asked. I snorted. "Of course I'm sure. Geez, do you think Kellie could do this to me?" "Well..., no, I guess not," she said, frowning, "but Jane seemed pretty sure about it. She said you sucked Kellie's toes." "Come on, Annette," I responded. "Can you picture me sucking anybody's toes?" She squinted her eyes at me. "Not really, unless you were ****** to or something. But, I don't know, Jane seemed really sure...." "To hell with Jane." I was feeling a little bolder for some stupid reason. "The day Kellie can kick my ass is the day I'll suck your toes." That slight smile returned to Annette's face. "Well, if I do find out differently," she said, "you can clean my ring for me." I thought about that one. What if she did find out? I looked down at her feet, but her brown, leather shoes covered her feet and the ring on her left middle toe. I pictured myself having to clean her ring if I was caught in the lie, and the thought was discomforting. I didn't want to have to lick the feet of a girl I had dumped for some other chick I had met back when we were going out. But, at the same time, I wasn't going to withdraw my story. "Yeah, whatever, Annette," I finally said, starting to walk away. I heard her last words as I wandered off. "I will find out, Tim, and you will get on your hands and knees and lick my feet if you're lying. And I'll laugh at you while you do it!" I shook my head slightly and kept walking. First bell was about to ring, so I headed to class. Thankfully, my first class was not with Kellie. If I had it my way, I wouldn't see her at all today. The school wasn't very big, about 400 students, and the building were set in sort of a quad structure with separate structures comprised of a small number of classrooms. I didn't have to walk out in the yard area if I didn't want to. That would allow me to avoid her at least until lunch. Then again, I could leave campus for lunch and not have to see her until 5th period. It worked fairly well. Those who had not attended the party were given my "Kellie's date" story, and I simply ignored those who had been at the party by smiling and shaking my head as if dismissing their statements. It helped to enter each class just before it began. The teachers had this thing about students talking during lecture. Between classes was the hardest, but I managed to keep the embarrassment at a minimum. Finally, the lunch bell rang, and I headed for my car. As I walked out of the classroom, Jane came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head toward me as I walked. "Jane," I said, "what's up?" "Annette said she talked to you, and you told her that it was Kellie's boyfriend who beat you up. Monica told me it was Kellie." "Oh, when did you speak to her?" "Yesterday afternoon. She's sick or something today, so I haven't had a chance to talk to her again." That was fairly good news to me, at least delaying the undesirable until I could come up with some other patch. Still, I wondered if she would talk to Kellie. She and Kellie weren't exceptionally close, but the possibility of them talking seemed likely. "Yeah, I guess the story is getting around that Kellie kicked my ass or something. I know she hates me, and that may be why she's saying that. She may tell you that she did kick my ass, but if she does, just remember that she might say anything the way she feels about me." Jane seemed to be thinking about that. She cocked her head a little to the side and spoke: "Would you come over with me and ask Kellie in front of her?" I mentally froze for a second. With a quick shake of my head and a, by then, habitual snorted, I responded. "Look, Jane, I'm just going to let things pass. Whatever happened over the weekend is over. Kellie's date got some good shots in on me, but I don't hold a grudge. As far as I'm concerned, it's over. So, I'm just going to avoid anymore hassles. Comprende?" Jane looked at me. "Whatever, but Annette has this thing about making you grovel at her feet if she finds out you're lying. She says she's going to talk to Kellie, and if it's true, you will either get down on your knees to her or she'll ask Kellie to beat you up again." I didn't like the sound of that, but I was too proud to confess anything. "Whatever," I said, breaking away from her toward the parking lot. I had to pass by the bench situated beneath a big tree by the cafeteria. It was the only way to reach the parking lot. A group of students were gathered on and around the bench, but Kellie wasn't one of them. I couldn't see her anywhere, so I figured I was home free. As I started to pass the bench, Mr. Racer, my history teacher, came out of the cafeteria and called me over. I thought about ignoring him, but he had seen me looking directly at him. Against my better judgment, I stopped about twenty feet to the side of the bench, and he walked up to me. He started talking about a project he wanted me to help him with (I was actually a good student), but I wasn't hearing much of what he had to say because Kellie and Annette emerged from the cafeteria and made their way to the bench. Kellie was wearing some designer t-shirt, grayish shorts, and white sandals with spaghetti straps. Seeing her for the first time since the weekend was strangely erotic. Her power over me had psychologically raised her to a level and lowered me several. I felt that she was better than me, something I had never felt about anyone. To me, she was someone to be feared. Since I didn't want the humility, I just wanted to be away from her. I honestly despised her and all she stood for, but it was the power, the sheer power, that drew me to her. Given the opportunity, I would have spat in her face and punched her nose bloody. But I had my opportunity recently, and I lost big time. Before she or Annette could notice me, I turned away and acted as if I were listening to Mr. Racer. After a few more sentences, he concluded and walked off. I felt transfixed because I felt suddenly alone and vulnerable. However, I started walking again with my eyes straight ahead. With just a little luck, something bad could be avoided. My luck ran out in less than three steps. "Hey, Tim..." a voice called out, almost at a conversational level. My face started to tingle because the voice was Kellie's. Slowly, I stopped walking and turned my head in her direction. She was sitting on the side of the bench facing me, a burrito in her hand, and a smile on her face. An evil, badly intentioned smile. I swallowed. "Yeah?" I answered, trying to subtract the vibrations from the sound of my voice. She raised her left hand, extended her index finger, and motioned me over. Fuck, was the predominant thought in my head. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Her right leg was crossed over her left, and she rotated her ankle as I approached. When I came within five feet, I stopped. I didn't say anything but just waited for her to speak. She did. "I've been talking to Annette," she began. "Annette says you told her that my date beat you up. Did you tell her that?" Kellie's tone was condescending, and the shame of not being able to stand up to that tone ate at me. I thought quickly for a response to neutralize what might happen and a way to get out of the situation. "Look, Kellie," I said, placing a light blanket of self- assurance on my voice. "I don't want to get into anything else about anything with you. I know you despise me, and I can't say I blame you. So, I'll just keep to myself, and you don't have to worry about me, and I won't bother you." I prayed silently that my statement would inoculate the situation. It didn't. "What is it you don't want to get into with me, Tim?" I pursed my lips for a second and rubbed both eyes with the fingers on my left hand. "Anything, Kellie. If I did you wrong, then I'm sorry. You hate me, and that's fine. I'd like to leave it at that." Kellie smirked. "You didn't answer my question," she said. "Kellie, I did.... I said that enough has happened..." "But you didn't tell me what it is you don't want to get into me with." I licked my lips briefly but stopped when I realized it probably would make me look nervous. I had to think a way out of the situation. I could see the clouds building, and the storm was due any minute. At that point, Annette joined in. "So, tell me, Tim. Who did that to your face?" Several of the guys and girls smiled when she said that. Kellie, herself, had no expression on her face. I could sense her disgust for me. "Let it go, Annette," I responded. I was at an impasse. The questions were becoming more specific and the answers less available. Kellie, still sitting calmly, interrupted. "She doesn't have to let it go. She can say anything she wants, and she wants to know who did that to your face. Why don't you go ahead and tell her..." I thought fiercely and opted to salvage my pride and hope the consequences weren't stiff or immediate. "I got into a fight with Kellie's date," I said evenly, looking directly at Annette. Kellie's eyes seemed to darken, and she spoke to me slowly: "I'm going to give you a choice, Tim. You either tell the truth or you eat my burrito." That was a strange request, but I couldn't believe the window Kellie had provided for me. Eating the burrito would be easy. I had already said that I wanted to avoid anymore problems and eating the burrito would almost be a noble thing to do, like a gentleman's act of chivalry. "Okay," I responded, "to avoid any more tension, I'll do what you want." I began to walk over. At the same time, this arrogant smirk stretched out on Kellie's pretty face. I walked up to her and extended my hand for the burrito. Everyone at the bench was looking on with great interest. Kellie held the burrito toward me. I started to close my fingers on it. Suddenly, just as I almost had it in my grasp, Kellie opened her hand,released the burrito, and let it fall to the ground. I stared at her. "Why did you do that?" I said, astonished. "Because I wanted to," she said. "Now eat." This wasn't looking too good. Yet, I remained emotionally controlled. I closed my eyes, smiled, and shook my head. "Okay, Kellie." The tone was patronizing. "Like I said, I don't want anymore trouble between us. I'll eat it even though you dropped it. Then, I hope you will be happy." The manner in which I said those words convinced me that I might actually pull the whole thing off, leaving our classmates with the impression that Kellie was a spoiled brat, and I was doing the gentlemanly thing. I leaned down to pick up the burrito. Kellie stopped me by placing her sandaled foot near my face. "I have a better idea," she said. I hesitated, still half-kneeling on the grass. With intensifying horror, I watched as Kellie leaned over and began untying the ankle straps on her right sandal. With the bow undone, the shoe dropped to the ground next to the burrito. I started to rise but she held up her hand, motioning me to wait for a second. I spent that second watching Kellie extend her cream colored foot and lower it onto the burrito. As I stared stupidly, she began to grind her foot on the burrito. Flour, beans, and whatever else went into the things were being smeared on the sole and side of her foot. To this day, I will not forget the sight of beans squishing up between her toes or the way her foot abruptly stopped grinding, lifted off the mess, then dangled there as Kellie again crossed her leg at the knee. Beans, flour, and dirt covered her slender foot. I was still in my half-bent position. "Now," she said, extending her foot toward my mouth, "enjoy your lunch." Any noble charade in the world would be rendered meaningless if I licked the dirt and burrito off the foot that stared me in the face. The fight or flight response was rebounding inside my head, with the flight part bouncing hardest. On the one hand, I could fight her; however, if I lost (and after the weekend, I knew that was a strong possibility) she could really injure me badly and would humiliate me, anyway. If I ran, everyone would know what a coward I was (afraid of a girl, they would say), Kellie would track me down eventually, kick my ass, and humiliate me then. Either way, I would suffer physically and be embarrassed in front of lots of people. The only other response, and the safest, would be to lick her foot. Somewhere inside me, I realized that a simple confession about the weekend would no longer suffice. The confession would simply be made, and she would still demand my submission. The choice was clear. I heard a collective gasp as I bowed my head, opened my mouth, and extended my tongue to her foot. "Wait," Kellie said abruptly, "and don't move an inch. I've got a better idea." So, I stayed that way, on one knee, with my neck and tongue extended. She continued: "Ask me for permission to lick this shit off my foot." She was giggling, apparently enjoying herself. "And put your other knee on the ground. Get on your hands and knees, little doggie, and beg for my foot. Pray to me that I don't kick your face in like I did the other night. Do it now." I swallowed hard. The blood pressing against my cheeks, and I could hear people laughing and commenting at the sight of me bowing before Kellie Bruner, in complete servitude to a girl sitting on a lunch bench with her foot dangling in my face. To my immediate left, her sandal lay on the ground. What had once covered her foot would soon be replaced by my mouth. My face was going to be used like an object, something for her personal satisfaction. I was no better than that sandal. I was going to lick some dirty, trampled shit off her foot like I was a dog at her command. The realization of my position brought tears to my eyes. I breathed in deeply, then did as I was told. "Kellie..." I began before being cut off. "No," Kellie corrected, "call me Princess Kellie." "Princess Kellie," I continued with no hesitation, "may I lick your foot clean?" "Raise your head and look straight ahead," she answered. I did so, and Kellie extended her foot and slowly wiped it from heel to toe across the front of my face. Gritty layers of burrito covered my left eye, nose, and mouth. And I just knelt there letting her do it. Everyone was either grinning or laughing, the loudest being Annette. Kellie just smiled. "Now lick the rest off," Kellie ordered, pointing her toe toward my mouth in a pristine manner. I opened my mouth and accepted her toe inside. I wrapped my lips around it and began sucking. I swallowed the residue that remained and moved my tongue around to clean her toe completely. Once the burrito had been sucked off, the softness of her toe took over. Again, I was amazed at the purity of her feet. I couldn't believe that something so soft, silky, and sweet could be so deadly. The creamy texture and tone of her foot stared me right in the eyes. I hated what I was doing, and I hated the person I was doing it to, but irony of my hatred and the incredible object of beauty in my mouth captured me. I felt my dick starting to stir, and I tried to control it, to make it go down or away. But it grew and grew, and I sucked and sucked. My body started to spasm as orgasm approached. I could hear murmurs and laughter as sweat began to bead on my forehead. The grunts that came from my throat were not under my control. "What's he doing?" I heard Annette say. My eyes were closed tight and my cheeks were caved in from the sucking. The pleasure I was receiving from Kellie's smooth toe intensified with every movement of my mouth, every swab of my tongue, as if I were sucking myself. I could feel the liquid rising from my balls, climbing my rigid shaft that seemed to have a mind of its own. "Oh, my God," Kellie blurted, "he's getting off on my foot again!" More murmurs and some shouts of surprise. Laughter. Shrieks. Giggles. The pants I wore that day were thin, white cotton. The knees were already stained from my kneeling position. The stain that spread in my crotch was undeniable as the come flooded forth, sending me into convulsive twitches, hard grunts shaking my throat. I felt as if I were in some metaphysical coma with lengths of colorful pleasures wrapping around and inside my body. I started to hump the air as string after heavy string of hot cream poured out of my cock and into the fabric of my attire. I could hear my classmates screaming about the dark wetness spreading outward. More laughter and exclamations of disbelief. Kellie's soft toe never left my mouth. Gradually, the sensations subsided as did the force of the contractions. My breathing slowly lessened it's crazed force. My senses started to return, senses of shame, humiliation, softness, and warm stickiness. I opened my eyes and stared at the tanned foot I held in my mouth. I waited for God knows what. Kellie was laughing above me. She continued to laugh as she lifted her other leg and rested it on my right shoulder, the ankle supported by my shoulderblade. I looked at her face and saw the bright smile shining away. She licked her lips and addressed me. "Clean the rest of my foot now," she said. "I have to go to class in a few minutes." She leaned her head back to enjoy the sun on her face. Her elbows supported her on either side. She withdrew her toe from my mouth and seemed to smirk at the plopping sound it made. She held her foot straight out and told me to get busy. With my lips and tongue, I washed her foot clean of the food and dirt paste. Again, I marvelled at the wrinkled softness of her soles. I could never imagine anything being that soft and moist. Her foot was clean, but I continued to lick and french kiss her slender instep, her baby-smooth heels. I was repulsed at my behavior and outraged at her arrogance. But I licked like a dog. Like her dog. The sensations began to return as my lips locked in. I was beginning to shake again when her foot suddenly was taken away. In my half-delirium, I tried to follow it down to the ground to finish my assignment. When Kellie's other foot halted my progress with a push against my shoulder, I realized what I had been doing. I just stopped where I was, my hands and knees planted on the ground, my head bowed to her tanned foot. She told me to get her sandal for her, which I quickly did. I handed it to her, and she told me to look up. When I did, she placed her bare foot firmly on my faced and forcefully pushed me away. My head lurched violently, and I fell onto my back. She told me to stay there. I did. When her foot was again adorned with the thin sandal, Kellie stood and walked over to where I lay. She stopped directly above me with both feet on either side of my head. She wasn't smiling. "The next time you decide to tell someone about the ass- kicking you took over the weekend, you'd better tell the truth, Tim," she said, "because the next time, I won't let you off with a footjob in front of a crowd. The next time," she concluded, planting her sandaled foot on my face, "I'll just kick your ass again." With that she pressed down and stepped on my face, walking on and over it as she headed off to class. As she walked away, I started to rise. I could hear the laughter from and around the bench as the crowd began to disperse. My psychological strength faded, and I laid back down. It wasn't until the laughter had faded that I began to raise my head again and get up. I had not moved more than three inches when something soft and moist blocked out the light and pressed my head back to the ground. The voice above it was familiar. It was Annette who now held my face to the ground. I had no esteem to stop her, to keep her from standing on me that way. Annette's voice was clear. "I told you that you would clean my ring if I found out you lied. Tim, I'm really ashamed of you. I can't stand people who lie. That really pisses me off." She lifted her foot off, and I watched her walk toward the bench. She was barefoot. "Get up and crawl over here," she said without turning around. Considering what had transpired over the lunch period, I had little resolve to disobey her. Besides, the way my life had suddenly changed over a span of three days, she would probably have been able to kick my ass, too. So, I got to my hands and knees. I crawled over the grass to where Annette sat on the bench, her arms folded across her chest, her left leg crossed over her right, her burgundy-painted toenails dangling eight inches from the ground, her gold toe-ring shining brightly in the sunlight. When I got to within an inch of her sculptured foot, she extended one arm and pointed at her toe. "Suck," she said. I opened my mouth, bowed my head, and to the sound of her laughter, took her toe into my mouth, and sucked. And sucked... and sucked.... End Part Three |
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