A Different Footing Ch. 02

I can't answer verbally, of course. So I resort to a quiet mumble of agreement from beneath her feet, which has Chris smirk in delight.

"That's a good girl," she says, cooing. "Such a good girl. You're never gonna pick a fight with me again, are you, Nicky? Never gonna shout again, never gonna push me around again. I know exactly how to put you in your place now, don't I?"

To mark her words, she presses even harder on my lips, and my face screws up in pain and discomfort. She studies my reactions closely, biting her lower lip, excited, breathless. Can I blame her? She's suddenly acquired so much power over me... I'm letting her treat me like a bitch.

"That's how things are going to be from now on," Chris says. "I'll give you one more chance, but there's a catch: I'm in charge now. I'm the boss. I'll make the rules, and you'll follow them. No questions asked."

I narrow my eyes at her, trying to show her my disapproval. I resent the idea that she is the one giving me one last chance, as opposed to this being a mutual effort at turning things around. As for her being the boss... well, it sounds hot, but...

I don't know, and it isn't just my injured pride talking. This is a fun fantasy, but I doubt Chris is just talking about the bedroom, right now.

I mumble louder, hoping she'll release me, and let me speak. It's ridiculous, of course, my hands are free, but she makes me feel so utterly conquered that I don't even consider using them to free myself. After all, this is the position I wanted to be in, just maybe... not with this talk.

Her foot does withdraw from my mouth, and I gulp in air, ready to finally start participating in this conversation.

"Look, Chris, I don't kn-"

My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden intrusion of her big toe, plunging into my mouth. Her eyes narrow, now, the disapproval clear on her face.

"I said, shut up," Chris says, and that makes me tremble. I've never heard her use that tone with me... or with anyone. "Suck my toe and listen, for once in your life."

I give a soft whimper, both at the humiliation of being shut up once more, and at her other foot, slowly descending down my body, resting down my thigh.

My protests forgotten, I now want her to slip it inside my pants. I want that more than anything.

Chris smirks, looking pleased with herself. "Good. I knew you'd come around. Now, the first thing on the list was no more arguing. Here comes the second: you're not going to work yourself to death anymore. There's no point to me, being with someone who barely has time to spend with me. And, lastly..." Her expression turns very, very serious. "No more alcohol. Not just tonight, Nicky. Starting today, you're sober."

That's when the fun stops.

I squirm and struggle, making it clear to Chris that I'm serious, this time. Annoyance washes over her face, but she withdraws the toe from my lips. The other foot leaves my face as well, but I'm too worked up to focus on that right now. Chris has touched a point she shouldn't have, and my defenses are up.

"I don't have a problem," I say. "Not really. You know that. Drinking isn't my problem, it's how I solve my problems."

Chris rolls her eyes. "At best, it's how you ignore them, Nicky. And I know you think you're in control of this, but you're really, really not. I can't take it anymore. I don't want to have to interact with you when you're drunk, not once."

"That's fine," I tell her. "I can drink outside, with my colleagues."

Silence descends.

It takes me but a moment to realise I've made a terrible, terrible mistake. Chris leans closer to me, her eyes narrow, her lips set in a tight line.

"Yes," she says, threateningly. "You can. But not with me as your girlfriend. Or do I need to remind you what happened, last time?"

I don't need reminding. I look away, finding it hard to deny my own shame from her... or from myself. I've been trying to avoid that topic, so hard. But I don't know if I can't anymore.

"You cheated on me," Chris says, trying to push past my last ring of defences. "With a man."

I close my eyes, turning away from her, placing my face in my hands. It's true. Nicole, the kitchen lesbian who chews male colleagues for breakfast. I lost my gold star one night, and that was the final straw that turned the decline of our relationship into an agony.

"Look, I did something stupid," I say, turning to confront Chris once more. "I was confused, things with you were becoming a trainwreck, I was angry, I was horny.... I didn't even like it, and I'd never do that again! I never would have in the first place. I only did it because I was..."

I stop myself at the last second, but it's too late. Chris and I exchange a meaningful look. We both know what I was about to say.

That I cheated on her with Brian, from the restaurant, because I was drunker than a fucking sailor.

Chris nods, her eyes never leaving mine. "Exactly, Nicky. And that's exactly why you're never, ever getting drunk again. I know it'll be a process, I know it will take a while to get there, but if you really want me to give you one last chance... then this is it. No more overworking, no more fighting, and no more drinking. And I'm in charge. The boss of you, the one who calls all the shots."

She gestures to her feet. "Or you can say goodbye to these, and to me, forever. So, what's it going to be, Nicky? Can you give up the toxicity in your life, for this?"

I find myself staring at Chris' feet. It's surreal, this is not how a heart to heart between lovers should take place: with me perving over her feet, even now. And yet, my obsession knows no bounds.

I suppose she's asked the one question that really matters, hasn't she?

Am I willing to give up my coping mechanisms? My domineering self? Control over every aspect of our daily lives?

Am I willing to give up all of that, for my beautiful girlfriend, and her feet I've become so completely obsessed with?

I muster the strength I need to tear my eyes away from Chris' feet, and look her in the eye. She's looking at me, expectantly, and I decide that at least this once, she deserves the truth. No filters, no defences, no deflecting. I'm going to give her the only honest answer I can give her.

"Chris," I say, in a soft voice. "I don't know."

Silently, Chris withdraws her feet back under the blankets, a disappointed expression on her face as she turns away from me, and back to her phone. I get up from the sofa, leaving her to it, sensing that the conversation is at an end, for now. But she has one last, muttered parting shot for me, as I'm slinking towards the bedroom.

"Then figure it out."