Learning to Serve

Finally she selected one, saying, "Here, you can get started. My toes are already bare, so you can just concentrate on getting the color on right. If you do a good job, maybe next time we'll see if you can do my cuticles and file my nails."

Placing the tray aside, I went down on my knees and elbows at Liza's feet. I spread her toes and inserted a cotton ball between each. I carefully painted her big toe, making sure not to get too much polish. It took me at least twice as long as when I do my own.

Finishing that one, I moved on to the next. Liza interrupted, "Blow on each one before you go on to the next."

I leaned forward to comply with her odd instruction, holding my lips just inches from Liza's toes and blowing softly. When I inhaled, my brain registered the scent of her fresh foot sweat for the first time in a week sending shivers down my spine.

As I blew on Liza's toe, she moved to rest her other foot on my back. At the same moment, her mother walked in.

"Liza you could have done that yourself!" her mother cried.

"She wanted to do my nails for me, mom. She does whatever I tell her," Liza laughed.

I was so ashamed, but kept at my task. Her mother sat down on the sofa next to Liza and said, "What's your little friend's name?"

Liza tapped the top of my head with her foot. I looked up at her mom. I had seen her a week earlier, but her beauty stunned me again. She had to be at least in her late thirties, but she looked much younger. Liza was beautiful now, and if her mom was any indication, she would remain so for many years.

"I'm Susan Kane," I bubbled. I felt so weird it was almost scary. I was kneeling on the floor in front possibly the most beautiful mother daughter pair I'd ever seen, but still, my spirit felt like it could leap from my skin. I felt like I'd swallowed a happy pill.

Smiling at me, her mom said, "Susan, don't let her boss you around."

"It's ok, ma'am," I said. "I like following Liza's orders."

"See mom? She's like my personal servant. Right?" Liza asked, tapping my head again.

"Yes Liza," I said.

"Is that your socks on her shoulders?" Liza's mom asked.

Liza giggled. "Yes, mom. I have to air them out and that seemed like the best place. She's fine with it." I nodded agreement and adjusted Liza's socks to make sure they weren't slipping off my shoulders.

Liza's mother just shook her head as I resumed my task.

"When she finishes, she's going to rub my feet. That's actually what she came over for. After tromping around in those boots all day, I can really use a good rub, and she's a natural." I felt a warm glow below my belly as Liza complimented me.

I concentrated on Liza's toes as she and her mother watched TV and talked, ignoring me completely. After a half hour or more, I looked up at Liza. I waited for a pause in their conversation, then said, "Liza, I'm done."

"Well, let's see how they look." Liza lifted her feet and placed them on my upturned face. Her heels fit right against my eyes and her arches curved across my forehead.

"Liza, get your feet off of that poor girl's face." Her mother suggested with a laugh.

"It's ok mom. I just need to see if she did my toes right."

I held perfectly still so Liza could examine the results. After a few seconds, Liza exclaimed, "They look great. Hey, you can do my toes from now on!"

"Oh thank you, Liza!" I cheered. I couldn't help it. I cupped her heels in my hands and kissed the bottoms of her feet right in front of her mother.

"Looks like you've found just the little friend you need, Liza," her mother laughed.

"Can we see how they look with your flip flops?" I asked hopefully.

"Ok," Liza replied, "take this stuff back up and bring down my flip flops."

I vaulted up the stairs as fast as I could without spilling the tray of polishes. I found Liza's flip flops. Licking my lips, I gave the sole of each a big kiss before running back down the stairs.

Liza turned the sole of her foot in my direction. I dropped to my knees and slipped her flip flops on. She stood, so close that my face was almost pressed against her thighs. She towered over me, looking even more like a goddess than when I first saw her.

Liza cat-walked toward the television and turned. "Well, what do you think?" she asked.

"Very nice," her mother said.

"Beautiful," I whispered, my hands clasped prayerfully at my chest. The skin of her tanned foot contrasted with the black sandal, but her pink toes matched the strap perfectly. I resisted a sudden urge to dive to her feet and hug her at the ankles.

Liza beamed as she trotted back and flopped onto the sofa, placing her foot on my chest. I slipped her shoe off as she said, "Get me another lemonade, and ask my mom if she wants anything. When you get back, you can start my foot rub."

I looked at her mom awkwardly. Reading my mind, she said, "You can call me Mrs. Johnston. There's a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator. Bring me a glass."

I returned and served their drinks. I sat cross-legged in front of Liza and started rubbing her foot. She rested the other foot on my shoulder and twirled my hair with her toes. I rubbed my cheek against her foot in appreciation. She kicked my cheek lightly, reminding me to focus on her massage.

Liza and her mother spoke as if I weren't there.

"It's nice to have a 'personal servant' isn't it?" Mrs. Johnston asked.

"Well, so far it's alright, but I feel like I haven't really used her much yet. Maybe I should have her do my laundry and ironing."

"Why not?" her mom asked, smiling gaily. "I'm sure we can find other things to keep Juanita busy. She can clean your room, too."

"Cool. It will be like I have my own maid." Liza's eyes widened with the possibilities.

"Yes. Except yours does whatever you tell her."

Liza looked at me. She moved her foot from my shoulder and kicked me gently on the forehead, saying, "Cancel whatever you're doing this summer so you can come over here whenever I text you. You can still volunteer for the park service since I can use you there."

"Ok." I replied. I was ashamed to tell her that I didn't really have anything else planned for the summer.

"This is great, mom. What else can I have her do?"

"That may be enough for now, dear. Maybe you should think about long term?" she suggested.

"You mean like in college? She can come up and clean my dorm room." Liza looked down at me. "Where are you going to university?"

I told her I was going to the local state school.

"Ohh," Liza groaned. "That's too far to come and clean my room."

"Don't worry, dear," her mother said. "I'm sure college will work itself out. Maybe you should think even longer term than that."

Liza thought for a minute. "You mean like have her major in physical therapy or something so she can give me even better massages? Wouldn't it be better just to have a full time maid? A maid that works for free?"

"Well, sweetheart, those are both good ideas. But if you're planning to ever have children, someone who can help with that might be the most helpful. Good nannies are worth their weight in gold. When you find one, you don't ever want to lose her."

"Hmm," pondered Liza. "What does a professional nanny major in?"

"The best get degrees in Childhood Education or Child Psychology," Mrs. Johnston said.

Liza kicked me in the forehead again. "What are you majoring in?" she asked.

"Art History. I'm hoping to work in a museum or gallery when I get out," I replied.

"Art History. That's not bad. I'd like my kids to know about art. Can you change your major to Education or Child Psychology and get a minor in Art History?"

"I think so."

"Good." Liza smiled, pleased with herself. "I like the idea of Childhood Education best. Call admissions and take care of that. Don't forget to tell me when you're done." Liza removed her foot from my hand and placed it on my face. Her heel rested on my chin and her long toes extended just past the top of my head. And just like that, my entire future was changed.

After what may have been the best moment of my life up to that point, Liza moved her foot from my face to my shoulder and presented me with the other one to continue her massage. Meanwhile, her and her mom went back to talking as if I weren't there.

"Thanks, mom," Liza gushed. "You're the greatest."

"My pleasure, dear."

"You sure seem to know a lot about how to use a 'personal servant' mom?" Liza inquired.

"Yes, I may have had one or two in my time." Mrs. Johnston smiled fondly. "It seems like some people just recognize their betters. When they do, they have a strong desire to serve them."

"Really, mom?" Liza exclaimed, "tell me everything!"

"Freshman year there was this boy. He was a junior and totally smitten with me. He was very nice, but he wasn't really my type."

"Why not, mom? He didn't have a hard enough body?" Liza laughed.

"No, it wasn't that. He was the star of his intramural soccer team," Mrs. Johnston's eyes grew distant. "He had a great butt."

Liza laughed again, "MOM!" she cried.

"Well, he did. But he was an Accounting major. I guess what they say about Accounting majors must be true," she said conspiratorially.

"What's that?"

"Well, he was boring." Mrs. Johnston chuckled. "It's true. We had been friends from a few classes we had together. Eventually, he asked me out, but we never had anything interesting to talk about.

"I was going to just drop it after that, but he kept begging me to go out with him again. Finally, I just said to him, 'Look, I'm not going out with you. We can still be friends if you want, but I'm really busy with classes right now. I don't really have time to hang out with a guy that I'm not interested in dating.'

"He was crushed. At first, I thought he was going to cry. Then, he said 'Maybe I could help you with classes.' Our relationship grew from there.

"It started out that he would come over and help me with my homework. It really helped that he was an upper classman. Gradually, I started asking him to do other things: fix dinner, wash dishes, clean the room, do the laundry for both my roommate and me. He got to be pretty good at massages and pedicures, too."

Liza was rapt by her mother's story. I continued rubbing Liza's foot, but I was stunned her mother was telling this story in front of me. They really were oblivious to my presence.

"What else did he do?" Liza leaned eagerly toward her mom.

"He would even go out and buy my groceries, paying out of his own pocket. He would drive me around when I needed to go somewhere, and even wait in the car until I was done." Mrs. Johnston paused, then added, "plus, there were a few more personal benefits."

"Mom! You can't just leave me hanging like that. What does that mean?" Liza insisted.

"You can experiment with that for yourself, dear. Just remember you must never let your 'personal servant' think they're you're equal. If you do, the whole thing falls apart."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"Sort of. I didn't really know how to treat him. I mean, I got used to using him and ordering him around in private, but other than that, I tried to be nice. I never treated him as a servant -- well, slave really -- in front of anyone but my roommate. In public, everyone just thought we were good friends.

"That was my mistake. That led him to think he still had some kind of chance to date me. Eventually, he began to suggest that we give dating another try, but by this point, I only thought of him as a slave. I got tired of his sad puppy-dog face every time I rejected him. During his senior year, I broke off all contact." She sighed with a wistful half-smile. Recovering, she added, "See, if I had kept him in his place, maybe I'd be getting a foot rub right now, too!"

"Hah! Or getting your taxes done for free," Liza joked.

"Hmm. That's not a bad idea." Mrs. Johnston looked pensive. "You're catching on quickly."

"That's enough massage." Liza said a little louder than necessary. "Bend over," she ordered, pointing to the floor between her legs.

I got back on my elbows and knees and held my face a few inches from the carpet. I felt Liza trying to stick her feet under my collar, but it was too tight. "Undo the buttons on that blouse," she commanded. My fingers fumbled for the buttons as I undid the top two. Her feet slipped underneath the cloth at my neck and rested coolly on my back.

I sat like that for a few minutes until I realized that Liza had no other use for me but as a footstool. I didn't enjoy the close up smell of the rug, so I reached for Liza's flip-flops. When I did, I felt Liza's weight on my back as she leaned forward. "Be still!" she demanded.

While pulling her flip-flops under my face, I spoke into the rug, "I just thought I'd clean these for you."

"Well try not to move around too much." She lifted both feet an inch off my back and stamped down to emphasize her point.

I settled down again with my face right on top of her shoes. I extended my tongue and started lapping at the sole. It didn't taste like much. It was salty, with a little rubbery flavor. A few grains of dirt washed into my mouth, but I just swallowed them. Telling myself that I should do a good job for Liza, I sealed my lips to her shoe and sucked as I licked. Gradually, I covered the whole top of the shoe. The toe section was the saltiest, so I focused there the longest.

I shifted to the other shoe and just as I started cleaning, Liza slipped her feet off of my back. "That's it, I'm going up to my room now," she declared. I sat up, my open shirt exposing my brassiere. Before I could re-button it, Liza held her foot right in front of my face. I leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her arch. "No dummy. Put my shoes on," she laughed.

"But I haven't finished cleaning this one." I replied.

"Let me see," she demanded. I held both shoes up side by side. "Hey, that's not bad. You'll have to do that every time I wear them." She wiggled her foot insistently and I put them on her. "You can finish that one next time. Keep an eye out for my text. I expect you to be here within 15 minutes."

"Yes, Liza," I ended up speaking to her butt as she had already headed for the stairs without glancing back.

"Bye, Susie," her mom added, making sure I knew I was dismissed.

Chapter 3: My Third Visit

This time, I remembered Liza's socks on my shoulders. I left them there for the drive home, slipping them into my pocket before going inside. When I got to my room, I turned them inside out and smothered them with kisses before putting them back into my pillowcase.

I hung around the house all day the next day, alternating between pacing like a dog during a thunderstorm and kneeling alone in my room, rubbing Liza's socks on my face. Finally, at five PM, I my phone buzzed. My heart almost leapt from my chest. I looked. It was an unfamiliar number.

"Here. Now." The text read, followed by another, "Back door."

I threw Liza's socks back on my shoulders and yelled, "Mom, I'm going over to Liza's" as I sprinted out the door.

I found the gate open in Liza's side yard and latched it behind me. I noticed their expansive, meticulously groomed back yard and gorgeous pool with a fountain built in as I made my way to the kitchen door. The kitchen door was unlocked. I wandered quietly through to the family room.

Mrs. Johnston, as beautiful as ever, looked up at me. She smiled and said, "Liza's up in her room, dear. You're to go up and meet her there."

"Yes, ma'am." Awkwardly, I half bowed. My pulse quickened as I dashed up the stairs.

I knocked lightly on Liza's door and she called, "Come." She was sitting on a king sized bed with a mountain of snow-white pillows at her back, looking at a fashion magazine. She wore snug red shorts and a frilly white tee shirt with a red, white and blue sequined flag on it. Her long, tanned legs were bare as were her large, stately feet. The glossy pink polish I applied the day before shined like dew on rose petals in the morning sun.

She pointed to the floor along side her bed. I scooted to kneel at the side of the bed near the foot. Liza never even looked up at me. I knelt in silence looking up at her in anticipation. She moved one foot to the edge of the bed, resting it directly in front of my face.

We sat like that while she read her magazine. Liza's bedroom was the size of our living room at home, but rather than admire her decor, I studied her foot as if it held the secrets of the universe. Liza's sole was amazingly smooth, but I tried to memorize each wrinkle and line of her arch and the underside of her toes.

Finally, she put the magazine on her nightstand and swung both legs over the side of the bed. She pointed at the rug directly in front of her. I shuffled over until I was kneeling between her legs, my face at the height of her belly button, which peeked mischievously at me from beneath the short tee shirt.

She said, "You've still got my socks on your shoulders. How cute. Have you been wearing them since you left?"

I shook my head. "I put them in my pillow when I got home."

"That's sweet." Liza said, patting me on the head. "Did you wash them?"

"No. Sorry. I didn't have time."

"Well, that's ok. You can wash them with the rest of my stuff tonight. Go put them in my laundry basket. You can leave the basket out since you'll be needing it soon."

I found her laundry in the closet and added the socks, then returned to my kneeling position. Liza lifted her feet and rested them on my shoulders. "First, you're going to wash and iron my clothes, then hang them in my closet or fold them and put them away.

"While you're waiting for the clothes, you can clean my room, including my bathroom. I expect every surface in that bathroom to be clean enough to eat off. You'll find the cleaning stuff in the cabinet under the sink.

"When you finish all of that, come find me. If I feel like it, you can give me another foot rub. How does that sound?"

"That sounds ok," I mumbled. My blend of excitement and nerves left me a little nauseous.

"What? Speak up, girl!" Liza demanded, kicking me under the chin.

"Yes, that sounds fine, Liza," I practically shouted.

"Good. Before you start, though, I want to try out those 'personal services' mom mentioned yesterday. Wait here."

I shifted uneasily, wondering what Liza had in mind. She returned wearing a white, satiny bathrobe loosely belted at her waist. When she sat back down in front of me, the top draped open exposing her impossibly pert breasts, they looked like B cups, with their perfectly circular, dark brown areola about the size of a quarter. I tried not to stare, but my eyes were transfixed. They were even more statue-worthy than I'd imagined.

"Take off your shirt." I did as she ordered, my fingers fumbling with the buttons. "Bra too." My palms perspired, but I figured since I could already see hers, I might as well show mine, too. I unhooked my bra and laid it aside.

"Lean back," Liza said. I leaned back with my arms on the floor behind me.

Liza lifted her right foot and lightly ran the sole across my nipple. "The boys must love these," she said. I had always gotten compliments, from boys and girls, on the shape of my breasts. I wore a C or a D cup, depending on the bra.

"I think yours are much prettier," I ventured. "Your nipples are absolutely perfect." I never liked my nipples. They were light pink, barely different from my skin and large enough to cover most of the front of my breasts.

Liza continued letting the sole of her foot and her toes dance lightly across the tip of my nipple. I could feel it growing firm under her touch. Suddenly, she kicked with both feet, slapping playfully against the bottoms of my breasts.

I looked down and we both watched them jiggle. She repeated the process a few times, and giggled. Next, she pressed one foot into each breast, massaging them up and down. On the down stroke, she grabbed at my nipples, pinching them with her toes.