Flight SH 123 to Corfu Ch. 06 of 07

Quite obviously, mused Danny, she liked to walk about barefoot. Her rather rough-skinned soles; especially the balls of her feet, and her hard-skinned, almost flat-bottomed heels, readily lending further credence to Danny's supposition; to his at-no-notice, on-the-spot assessment.

Her grimy soles, were rather long and narrow, long-toed, rather high-arched, and her almost flat-bottomed heels were prominent, as if jutting out, proudly.

And, thought Danny, she had every right to be proud. Danny thought her soles were very shapely, very sexy -- very desirable.

Danny was spellbound. Utterly bewitched.

His mind and body in turmoil, Danny stared up, enchanted. Enchanted, at the incredibly exciting, extreme-close-up sight of the Gothic-looking woman's dirty bare feet, hovering right above his wide-eyed, incredulous face.

And Danny greedily drank in every single, fascinating, awesome detail of her grubby, grimy soles.

Well, there was just so much, to feast his hungry -- ravenous -- eyes upon. So much, to absorb. So much, to commit to memory. So much, for him to remember, later, when he got home, and replayed in his mind, the ...

After all, sights -- oh, such glorious sights! -- such as these, did not present themselves to Danny every day ...

Until today, that is!

Danny would have wagered a months' worth of unemployment benefit payments, that the Gothic-looking woman had never even seen the inside of a pedicure salon. As his dad would say, when putting his money on some hopeless nag that was somehow masquerading as a bona fide race horse: it was a 'Dead cert'. But, his dad would be right this time. Ruddy hell -- her feet seemed strangers even to soap and water!

Danny thought that she might at least have made a bit of an effort ... Hell -- after all, she was one of 200 air passengers, sitting in a jet-liner with her mother, and flying off on holiday to Corfu!

But Danny was glad that she (very obviously!) hadn't. Very glad, indeed. For her grimy soles were an incredible— and, yes, beautiful, sight to behold. The dirt and grime, somehow serving to enhance -- to wonderfully emphasise -- the shapes and contours of the exciting-to-look-at features of her soles.

Yes ... the Gothic-looking woman obviously preferred to walk about barefoot, whenever possible; favoured the 'natural look', thought Danny. Her glossy-black painted toenails, her one concession to vanity. Unless, of course, her dark adornment wasn't vanity; was some sort of ... dark statement.

Danny wondered, just what it would be like, to sniff those dirty, grimy soles. He wondered what it would be like, to actually inhale, deeply, their in-between-the-toes foot stink. He wondered, just what they would smell like -- but, he wasn't left wondering for long.

The Gothic-looking woman's mother, in seat 35 C, said excitedly to her look-alike -- almost mirror-image -- offspring, "Go on then, Miranda! The clock's ticking! What are you waiting for, girl -- you've only got ten minutes! Give him what for, while you can. Let him have 'em! It's all well and good, sticking your dirty stinky feet right into his stupid face, Miranda -- but make him sniff 'em, girl! Make him sniff 'em!" she urged her younger-version-of-herself daughter.

Danny couldn't believe his ears. He was shocked, at hearing the Gothic-looking woman's mother's mean-minded, malicious exhortations -- but he was incredibly excited, too.

The Gothic-looking woman's mother then opined, in regretful tones, "Oh, it's just a pity we're not allowed to uncover their mouths, and make the lazy little sods lick the soles of our feet clean for us, Miranda ... Heh heh heh, I bet they would soon find a job then, heh heh heh," she chuckled abominably.

Not me, Madam! thought Danny. I'd lick the soles of your feet clean for you any time! Any time!, Danny earnestly wanted to tell her. But, of course, he couldn't -- because Chief Stewardess Julie Davies had sealed his mouth shut with adhesive tape.

For the first time, Danny saw the Gothic-looking woman -- Miranda -- smile. And her smile, was of pleasure and gratification ... This smile was becoming very familiar to Danny: he was seeing rather a lot of it, today!

Miranda smiled, as she lowered the soles of her rather long and narrow, dirty, grimy bare feet, onto Danny's mouth-sealed, and conveniently positioned, fixed-in-place face.

Miranda smiled, as she curved her rather deep arches around his cheek bones; the pads of her toes, pressing into his forehead for extra grip and stability. She smiled, as she relaxed in her seat, settling her soles and toes firmly into place, in a comfortable, possessive caress ... Miranda, was duly claiming her 'rights': For ten minutes, he -- the Air Purification Technician -- was hers. He was all hers! Yes! Yes!! exulted Miranda.

Oh! Miranda was glad -- so very glad! -- that she had voted for the Authoritarian Female Party. Prime Minister Caroline Flint, she believed, was a woman after her own heart. Oh, after her very own heart! And now, she -- Caroline Flint -- was actually running the country! And, hallelujah to that!

Caroline Flint and her all-female member government would soon turn Britain around; soon sort out the country's scrounging, sponging ne'er-do-well's, of which there were far too many -- such as this lazy, workshy, job-dodging good-for-nothing, under her feet.

At the very thought of it -- at the very thought, of actually having one of those worthless work-dodgers; one of those shiftless, can't-be-bothered idlers who wanted to live off her hard-earned tax-pounds, right here, under her feet -- in her righteous anger, Miranda exerted more, and then yet more pressure upon Danny's helpless, fixed-in-place face.

Yes! thought Miranda, exultantly. Yes! Yes!! Under my feet! Under my dirty, stinky feet! And under other female passengers' feet, too! Where he should stay -- until he gets a job ... Oh! I feel like giving his stupid, dole-claiming face such a stomp! thought the highly indignant, grossly offended Miranda. Oh, yes, such a painful, crushing -- humiliating -- stomp. Make him cry! He deserves it! And more! Much, much more! Oh, I just wish there was another opening down there, so that my feet could get at his ... If it was up to me, I'd ...

Miranda looked at her now wickedly smiling mother, who was still impatiently awaiting the arrival of Alan -- Air Purification Technician Wallace -- aboard Service Vehicle C. "I can't wait for mine to get here, Miranda. Trust me: I'll certainly be giving mine, a bit of what for! Rules, or no rules ... I'll have him bawling for his mammy!"

Miranda, the twenty-five-year-old, Gothic-looking woman in seat 35 D, continued to look down on Danny, resentfully, and glaring nastily all the while as she vented her spleen. "He's putting me in a bad mood, Mum. A very bad mood ... The thought, of him living off my taxes; just staying at home, and doing nothing all day -- except watching the telly! The thought, of having to get up early for work in the mornings; scraping ice off the car in winter, and sitting in traffic jams -- while he lies in bed, until God knows what time! The thought, of paying taxes every week -- to put money in his pockets! ... 'Air Purification Technician'? 'Air Purification Technician' ...? I'll give the ruddy little runt, 'Air Purification Technician'! I'll give the ruddy little git; the ruddy little job-dodger -- the ruddy little parasite! -- something to ruddy well purify: Here -- 'Air Purification Technician' -- purify these!"

A moment later, Miranda was relishing her moment. The undersides of Miranda's long, begrimed toes were roving over Danny's nose, and then covering his nostrils.

Now, Danny was again doing what was necessary -- doing what was required of him by his local Job Centre, under the Authoritarian Female Party's new Work Motivation Programme -- to continue to qualify for his unemployment benefit payments: Fulfilling the obligations of his assigned placement, as an Air Purification Technician.

For, Danny was being 'obliged', to inhale Miranda's ghastly, repulsive, in-between-the-toes foot stink. Being obliged, to sniff up and absorb into his lungs, the profoundly unpleasant, revolting odours; the highly offensive fumes -- that, if left 'unfiltered', would otherwise contaminate the air quality inside the aircraft cabin -- so that the Sunshine Holidays passengers wouldn't have to.

Miranda's malodorous, putrid, in-between-the-toes foot scent, hit Danny hard! Really hard!!

The smell was awful, appalling, terrible -- unbelievable! Yet it was also amazing, mind-blowing, exciting, and ... penis-expanding.

Danny felt as though electrified. As though someone had plugged him into some kind of fantastical power outlet and now -- like a latter-day Frankenstein's monster -- he was being energised; jolted to life ... to pulsating, throbbing life.

Hitherto unknown -- undreamed-of! -- feelings and sensations, pulsed, throbbed, flowed throughout his entire being, as if from a steadily applied feed of high-voltage power. His body sizzled and his mind crackled as, physically and mentally, he was rocked to his core. Rocked, by the galvanizing upheaval of the exquisite sensations, the overwhelming emotions, that assailed his rapidly overloading senses ...

It was the awesome, exhilarating, extreme-close-up sight, of Miranda's long and narrow, long-toed, rather high-arched, proud and prominent heeled, dirty bare feet!

It was the exciting, thrilling, incomparable feel, of the warm flesh of the Gothic-looking woman's grimy bare soles, resting, firmly planted -- possessing -- his disbelieving, fervently adoring face!

It was the smell, of them! Oh, the smell of them! The incredible, mind-shattering, penis-expanding odour, of Miranda's in-between-the-toes foot scent.

It was the sound of Miranda's dour-faced, look-alike mother, urging her daughter on with malicious glee: "Go on then, Miranda! Give him what for, while you can. Let him have 'em! Make him sniff 'em, girl! Make him sniff 'em!" And: "Oh, it's just a pity we're not allowed to uncover their mouths, and make the lazy little sods lick the soles of our feet clean for us, Miranda ... Heh heh heh, I bet they would soon find a job then ... heh heh heh."

It was Miranda's derisive, sneering, exquisitely humiliating command: "Here -- 'Air Purification Technician' -- purify these!" as she covered his nostrils with the undersides of her toes, thereby committing her heinous olfactory assault upon him: 'obliging' him, to sniff up and absorb into his lungs, her dreadful, noxious, in-between-the-toes foot stink -- so that the Sunshine Holidays passengers wouldn't have to.

Even on their own ... merit, any one of these sensations would have been sufficient to overwhelm him; to take Danny, to ... the edge.

But, Miranda; ably assisted by her cruel-minded, malicious-mouthed, look-alike mother, had pushed— no, had propelled, Danny over the edge. Sent him plummeting, so that Danny thought he was falling, tumbling, deeper and deeper, into a fathomless abyss of unparalleled pleasure. Miranda's dirty, stinky feet, taking possession of his conveniently positioned, sealed-mouthed, fixed-in-place face -- and well and truly conquering him.

Danny had never dreamed, that it could ever be like this. Never. After all -- how could he? How could he have envisioned such a thing? How could he have ever imagined, that fantasy, that the fantastic, that the stuff of fantasy, would one day actually manifest itself, in real life -- in his life? It was beyond Danny's imagination. But yet -- it was, actually happening. And it was happening to him!

It was truly sensational. Exciting. Thrilling. Exhilarating. Mind-blowing.

And arousing. Very arousing, indeed.

And, Danny was getting very hot-under-the-collar bothered -- again. In fact, he was getting excited. Very excited. Over-excited ... 'down there'.

And, Danny wanted to do 'something' about it -- was desperate, to do 'something' about it ...

Danny wanted to touch himself. He wanted to play with himself. He wanted to pull his penis, in worship.

Danny wanted to pay his solemn 'devotions'. He wanted to make his sacred 'sacrifice'. To Miranda. To the twenty-five-year-old, Gothic-looking woman -- his Goddess with dirty feet.

And, Danny wanted to pay his ... respects, to Miranda, now! Now, in the here-and-now! Now, in real time -- in the moment! -- and not have to wait until later, when he got home, and replayed in his mind, the ...

But, he couldn't -- because Chief Stewardess Julie Davies, had secured his wrists to his service vehicle!

Danny whimpered -- could have wept. For, such were the trials, of his horribly torturing affliction.

Once again, via the S.A.P.S. computer, Danny's head was automatically lowered from the opened panel, which then closed, sealing off the foot space of seat 35 D. And plunged Danny, once again, into the near-darkness of the Flying Pencil's cramped, dim and dismal fuselage.

And the twenty-five-year-old, Gothic-looking woman -- Miranda -- with her rather long and narrow, proud and prominent heeled, glossy-black toenailed, grimy-soled, stinky feet, had disappeared from Danny's sight.

And so had her dour-faced, sucking-on-a-lemon, malicious-mouthed, cruel-minded, giving-'em-what-for, look-alike mother.

Miranda's ten minutes were up.

* * *

There was then another jolt and, via the S.A.P.S. computer, Service Vehicle D, bearing the over-excited Danny, automatically trundled along on its runners again ... and then stopped, with another jolt. Right alongside Service Vehicle C, occupied by Alan -- Al, Danny's former best school pal ... but now, his fellow Air Purification Technician.

Looking almost directly upward, Danny saw a number -- 22 D.

Danny -- and Alan -- waited ...

Almost simultaneously, the one-foot-square panels almost directly above Danny and Alan's faces, now opened.

Once again, via the S.A.P.S. computer, Danny and Alan's upper bodies were being automatically raised; their heads, being angled towards the opened one-foot-square panels.

A moment later, and Danny and Alan's heads were protruding through the opened panels -- into the foot spaces of seats 22 D, and 22 C, respectively.

When Danny's eyes had once again readjusted to the bright light of the cabin's interior, Danny saw that, looking down on his conveniently positioned, sealed-mouthed, fixed-in-place face, was an exceptionally beautiful girl of about Danny's own age. She had blue eyes, and long, white-blonde hair. She wore bright-yellow, flexible, thin rubber-soled flip flops, and her toes were painted in the same attractive bright-yellow colour. Her shapely, beautiful feet, were suntanned to a golden perfection ... And, to Danny's sense of acute disbelief -- off utter amazement -- he realised who she was. Realised, who those lovely, unforgettable feet belonged to.

For, she was actually Marie! Marie -- the ravishing Marie -- whose captivating flip flop feet had so enthralled him this morning, at the airport bus stop.

Danny couldn't believe it. He just could not believe it! It was just too ... too incredible. Too awesome!

And, sitting beside Marie -- in seat 22 C -- was her almost-as-attractive sister, Lisa.

Looking down on Danny, the ravishing Marie gave no sign -- absolutely no sign at all -- of recognising him from earlier that morning, at the airport bus stop.

Quite evidently, thought Danny, he was a complete and utter stranger to her. Apparently, Marie had no recollection, of her snapping Danny's heartstrings, one by one. No recollection, of cracking his heart wide open, so that more and more of his adoring feelings for her could come pouring in.

But, why would Marie remember him? thought Danny dejectedly. Danny knew, that the likes of her; the likes of the ravishing Marie, didn't notice the likes of him. Ever. It was a fact of life -- of his life, anyway.

But, Marie was noticing him now! She had summoned him, hadn't she? Summoned Danny to her magnificent presence, to 'attend' her.

Summoned him -- an Air Purification Technician -- to come and sniff up all of the fumes from her stinky, flip flop feet. Hadn't she? Yes, she had -- so that the Sunshine Holidays passengers wouldn't have to.

Marie's bright-yellow, flexible, thin rubber-soled flip flops, just like her sister Lisa's -- oh! they were all wearing flip flops today, it seemed -- were slap-slap-slapping away against the bottoms of the heels of her playful, happy feet.

Marie smiled happily, as she looked down on Danny. Smiled as she looked down on ... the conveniently positioned, taped-over-mouthed, fixed-in-place face that was peering up at her, bug-eyed, from the hole that had just opened up in the floor.

From Service Vehicle C, alongside Danny, Danny heard Alan's "Nnnnn! Nnnnnnnn!!" of outraged protest and acute distress, as Marie's almost-as-attractive sister, Lisa, began 'obliging' Alan to sniff up the highly disagreeable fumes, emanating from the soles of her stinky, flip flop feet -- so that the Sunshine Holidays passengers wouldn't have to.

Well! thought Danny, of Al, his former best school pal: You are in trouble, old mate. If you can't even cope with Marie's sister, the drop-dead-gorgeous Lisa ... God help you, then, when you arrive at seat 35 C, and Miranda's mum gives you "A bit of what for." Because she will. And then, you'll know about it! Then, you'll have something to complain about! ... In fact, I wouldn't be a bit surprised, if Miranda's mum ("Rules, or no rules ...") actually uncovers your mouth, and ...

Lisa was laughing and giggling with abandon. Laughing uninhibitedly -- hysterically, almost -- her feet being so very ticklish.

Oh! thought Lisa, this was so much fun! Ha ha ha ha! It was such a hoot! A real scream! Ha ha ha ha! It tickled like crazy! That was almost the best part ... almost.

What was better; what was a lot more enjoyable, thought Lisa, rather darkly, was seeing the Air Purification Technician's pathetically imploring eyes, and feeling his captive, squirming face under the soles of her dominating, tormenting, stinky bare feet.

Not, that his fixed-in-place face had much in the way of squirming room; evading his fate, an impossibility.

Even so ... Alan was squirming a bit too much for Lisa's liking; insistent, upon his futilely trying to escape her stinky, nose-capturing, nostril-covering toes. Becoming irksome. Spoiling her relaxation. It was almost an insult!

Soon, Alan was severely trying Lisa's patience; pushing her tolerance. Sorely testing her limits.

Oh! How tiresome he is, thought the easily annoyed, short-tempered Lisa, in her rapidly increasing dissatisfaction with the Air Purification Technician she had summoned. How dare he? thought Lisa, in angry indignation. I will not tolerate this! And why, in Heaven's name, should I? How dare he, attempt to shirk his ... obligations? Well, I won't have it!

In fact, Alan wasn't only being tiresome; he was now actually becoming 'boring' -- Lisa's Number One unforgivable offence. If he won't behave ... Right! That's it!

Lisa put her foot down -- literally. Raising her right foot, Lisa slammed the bottom of her bare heel down on Alan's nose; three times, in quick succession. Stomp stomp stomp. "Keep still!" commanded Lisa, imperiously -- just in case Alan hadn't got the message.

Immediately, Alan's eyes began to water, from moderate pain and acute humiliation. But Alan immediately behaved; ceased his tiresome squirming -- stopped being 'boring'. He had got Lisa's message.

Oh! Lisa didn't know or understand a single thing about stupid, boring old politics. Lisa didn't care a jot, about the silly old thing. Couldn't care less, about the old duffers; the ancient fuddy-duddies who squabbled like unruly school children about God-knows-what at Prime Minister's Questions, in the House of Commons.