Kiki’s Feet

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Kiernan Shipka faptastic foot fetish fan fiction.
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***

This is my first ever attempt at erotic fan fiction. It is something I have wanted to try for a while. I hope you enjoy it.

***

Kiernan burst into the dressing room, throwing down the yellow pom-poms. She was giggling, and jumping up and down on the spot.

"Finally!" She sighed. "We are wrapped on this season of Sabrina!"

I smiled.

"Well done," I said, "you've done such a brilliant job. When is the wrap party?"

She threw herself down in the chair placed in front of her vanity table. Catching the sight of herself in the mirror surrounded with bulbs, she frowned, reaching up to her head and pulling a black band out of her hair. Her curled blonde locks fell free, framing her pretty little face.

"It's in an hour," she said, "I am ever so excited, but I am so tired right now it's unreal."

"You've had a long day filming, I know," I explained, "but you'll be expected to go to the wrap party, being the star of the show and all. We need to get you out of that cheerleader costume, showered and into one of your gorgeous dresses - pronto."

She groaned, and scrunched up her face. She crossed her arms in defiance.

"I know you are literally paid to boss me around," she huffed, "but my feet are absolutely killing me! Can't I have just ten minutes rest?"

I laughed.

"I am indeed paid very well to boss you around Kiernan, but I am also paid well to make sure you are looked after and are your best when you need to be."

She was still having a pout.

"Come here," I gestured, "let's see what we can do about those aching feet."

I got up and gestured to the massage table which lay in the corner. Kiki often got her sports massages there after a heavy workout or before a shoot where she was expected to exert herself rather physically.

"Realistically, we have a half hour to play with," I continued, "let me see if I can get Sandra down, but I'm unsure if we can do that on such a short notice."

Kiernan got out of the chair and sauntered over to me.

"I don't like it when Sandra massages me, she does it too hard and it hurts," Kiki said sadly, "I like it when you do it best."

On the outside I (hopefully) appeared to be pensive, but on the inside I was filling with warmth. I closed the screen on Sandra's contact card and I slid my phone back into my pocket.

"Okay," I whispered, "but you know the rules, we have to lock the door, we can't have anyone finding out about these little sessions or I'll get into a lot of trouble and then I'll lose my job. We don't want that do we?"

"Oh, heavens no," Kiernan beamed, showing me a great big smile of pearly white teeth.

She skipped back over to the dressing room door, her frilly skirt rising up as she went. She turned the lock and skipped back on over.

"Lie down as you are," I said, "and we'll get those shoes off you and make you feel all better."

She titled her head.

"This cheerleading jumper is awfully stuffy, can't I take it off?"

I gulped.

"Are you wearing anything underneath, Kiki?" I asked, trying to maintain my composure.

"Oh course I am, silly," she hit at my arm, before lifting the costume up over her head.

She stood before me in white Chucks with socks, a frilled burgundy skirt, and a sheer, creamy silk bra which left little to the imagination. I could make out the mounds of her tiny little breasts beneath it, trace their very shape, and the nipples...

I realised I may have been staring so I encouraged her once more to hop up on the massage table. She climbed up, sliding on with her bum and gently throwing her legs up, lying flat on her back. She scooted down a bit so her feet stuck out over the end of the table, and I passed her a throw pillow from one of the chairs to place under her head.

"Thank you," she said.

I dragged a chair over and sat down in front of her feet. She playfully wiggled them back and forth.

"Let's get you out of these Chucks," I said, holding her left foot at the heel and untying the lace with the other hand.

"I'm very conscious that they will be awfully sweaty," Kiernan said coyly, looking down at me.

"Don't you worry about that," I replied, "let's get these little feet out so they can breathe."

Her poor little paws were crammed into the all-white sneakers. It took a fair tug for it to come away from her foot. A slight foot odour filled my nostrils, but it wasn't pungent enough to be unpleasant. There was almost a sweetness to it. It was glorious.

I repeated the action with the other shoe, and again inhaled deeply as the shoe came off. I tossed them both to the floor.

"That's much better already," said Kiki.

I started to massage her feet softly through her socks. It released more of that sweet sweaty aroma into the air. The hairs went up on my neck.

"How does that feel?" I asked.

""That's just lovely," she said, sighing.

I peeled each sock off slowly, relishing in the way that they came away from her body. Her toes were unpainted. This would simply not do, I would have to make sure that they were painted before she attended the wrap party.

I reached into my pack for some oils and resumed the massage. Kiki closed her eyes and fell into relaxation as I worked. Her feet were a little clammy, but the small amount of natural moisture was lost under the flow of the warming lavender scented oils that I worked into her soles.

"You know just how I like it," she encouraged me, without opening her eyes to look.

I smiled.

"We've done this so many times now that I know your body rather well," I said, realising that it may have been a bit creepy.

I laid off pressing my thumbs into her pods and instead worked at her toes, massaging them gently and pulling at them softly. Kiki opened her eyes.

"Do you like my body?" She asked, as plain as day.

"Excuse me?" I replied, hopefully not blushing.

"You look after me so well, and you know every inch of me so well," she explained, "does that mean that you love me? How I look? Who I am?"

Something stirred in me, but I did not fault in my massage duties.

"Of course I love you, Kiki," I answered, thinking that it was casual enough to be somewhat diplomatic, "it is why I am here, to look after you and make sure your needs are met."

"And what about your needs?" She countered, before I could go any further in my explanation.

I smiled again.

"They do not matter, my dear," I explained, "I am all about you, it is literally my job! Besides, that is satisfaction enough for me."

She opened her big bright eyes. Her eyebrows were raised in some sort of puzzlement, as if deep in thought.

"So, you get satisfaction from looking after me?" She asked.

"Yes, of course," I responded.

She scrunched up her face.

"You're getting satisfaction, right now, from rubbing oil into my icky feet? Not a chance!"

She let out a girlish laugh.

I looked down at her gorgeous feet, glowing from the treatment and shining in the oil. I could have licked my lips, the sight was so delicious. They were glowing from the massage.

"You have beautiful feet," I explained, "there is nothing icky about them at all."

She scrunched her face and wiggles her toes.

"Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "My feet are... beautiful?"

"Absolutely," I said, taking one in both my hands and deeply kneading it, "they are perfect, and gorgeous."

She let out a heavy sigh at the massaging action.

"I've never thought of feet being gorgeous before," she breathed, "when I think of gorgeous I think of faces and chests and hair and eyes and lips and all those good things. When I look at somebody I fancy, I think to myself - "Ooh, isn't he gorgeous?" - surely you can't think of feet in that way?"

I slowed my massage further, working deep and deliberate into her soft flesh.

"Some people absolutely think of feet that way, KiKi," I explained, "it can be so for any part of the body."

"Yeah, I know, but feet?" She giggled.

There was silence as I worked the other foot. Once more, slow and deliberate, deep and firm. She sighed again, that heartwarming sigh.

"Does this mean that you fancy my feet?" She asked without warning.

Before I could fathom my response she continued: "Its okay if you do. I guess they are kinda pretty."

Free of my grasp, she wiggled her toes slowly. I was immediately hard.

"I suppose that I do fancy them," I admitted, "as they are very pretty, as you say."

"You're silly," she declared, lying back with her hands behind her head, "but if they could talk, they would say thank you for the compliment."

"That's quite alright," I laughed with her, "I suppose it is kind of silly when you think about it."

"Oh, absolutely!" She giggled. "I bet you'd do something silly like marry them. Do you want to marry my feet?"

We guffawed together.

"I bet you want to marry them and kiss them all over," she jeered.

There must have been something to my face that betrayed me, for her smile tapered off and she looked at me as if studying an insect under a microscope.

"Do you want to kiss them?" She asked, her tone flat. "Is that what people who fancy feet like to do?"

I felt like my mouth was hanging open in shock.

She lowered her voice once more, almost to a whisper.

"You can kiss them if you'd like. I wouldn't mind that. It might be rather nice."

She followed this with a little flourish of the toes that sent my pulse racing. My heart was pounding in my chest.

"Kiernan, I-"

"I won't tell anyone. It can be our little secret. You do so much for me, after all."

"No, I couldn't, it would be wrong-"

She huffed.

"Well," she said, lying back down, "I'm just going to lie here on the table with my feet dangling and with my eyes closed, and I'll count to 100. If you want to kiss my feet, you can."

And that was that. Her eyes were shut tight and her lips moved gently as she mouthed the numbers she was counting.

My guess would be that she would have counted to about 30 before I reached out and took her feet in my hands again. She jumped a little; maybe she hadn't expected me to actually do anything.

I massaged her slowly for a while. A minute must have passed now. Should I do this? It could be a very stupid move, but the stiffness in my trousers told me otherwise. I leaned forward slowly. She was still counting.

I was getting closer and closer. The big toe on her right foot. The fleshy digit pointing up at me was begging to be sucked. This could cost me my job. But fuck it, it'd be worth it. I wrapped my mouth around it and sucked gently. Her flesh had a light, perfumed fragrance to it, coupled with the slight odour of sweat. It wasn't a bad combination. In fact, it sent my heart racing.

Kiernan sighed. I removed my mouth from her toe.

"That was a lovely warm kiss," she whispered, "you can do the other one as well if you like?"

She never as much as opened her eyes. I obliged and repeated the same again. That salty perfumed flavour drove me wild as I gently sucked. I let it out of my mouth, and braved a tongue, before taking it again. I repeated this for both of her big toes, until she sat up.

"Times up, silly." She said, pulling her feet up and putting her arms around her legs. "I have counted all the way to 100."

"That was really nice, Kiki," was all I could thing to say.

"It was a rather nice sensation," she admitted, "but I wonder if it has made you more in love with my feet or less so now that you have gotten to know them a bit better?"

I wondered if my hard-on was showing.

"I do have that effect on men sometimes," she said, jokingly.

Apparently it was visible.

"But it's not usually my feet that get that reaction," she continued.

"There are many of us all over the world who would get that uhh, effect, from a beautiful pair of feet like yours." I tried to explain. I was worried if I would sound creepy.

A knock at the door sent both of us jumping out of our skins.

"Uber for Miss Shipka in 15!" A voice boomed.

"Bloody hell," I said, "we need to get you ready for the wrap party."

Kiernan sighed and slid off the massage table.

"Maybe you can kiss my feet again soon, when we have a bit more time?" She asked.

"Think on it," I said, playing it down, "if it's something that you've enjoyed, we can try and work some time into your schedule and get an hour or so together to explore more."

She smiled at me wickedly.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Mr. Foot Lover?"

She giggled.

I said nothing but I must have gone red. I busied myself with her wardrobe doors.

"I'm going to have to call makeup to do a quick touch up," I explained, "have you decided what you want to wear tonight?"

She slipped over to the door, unlocked it, and came back to her vanity table where she plonked herself down in front of the mirror. I whipped out my phone and sent a text to Crissy, her makeup artist.

"Yes," she paused to smile, catching my eye, "I have a black dress that I want to wear. Although, I think it would be lovely if you would pick me out some shoes. I have a lot of open and strappy affairs that I would spend far too long choosing between. As you're something of an expert in what looks good in this department, would you mind picking a pair out for me? I doubt I have time to paint my toes so would really need something that's going to pop and make my feet look amazing."

I immediately agreed and raced to the wardrobe, and then to the suitcases piled in the corner.

"It's a shame you can't come to the wrap," she said, putting on red lipstick, "I'm going to look absolutely gorgeous."

Was she teasing me? I decided to play her back and ignore her tone.

"Kiki, put the lipstick down," I laughed, "I've called makeup, they'll be here in a moment."

She, perhaps unsurprisingly, ignored me and continued.

"There'll be lots of paparazzi there, I expect," she continued, "at least outside the venue. They will take lots of photos of me in the shoes you picked out for me. Maybe I will show off for them, for once. Wiggle my toes."

In each hand I held a different pair of shoes.

"I expect they will taking photos as always," I confirmed.

"I also expect a lot of those pictures will be making their way online sometime tonight," she said, making sure to catch my eye in the mirror once more. "TMZ are especially quick, for better or worse."

"They are," I agreed.

"I was just thinking, maybe you could look through them, if you've got nothing else to do, and have a look at my feet in the shoes you've chosen, posted all over the internet for everyone to see. I think that would be nice. I think that might help out with any particular feelings that you are currently feeling."

The door knocked and Crissy entered, effectively putting an end to the conversation. Kiernan and Crissy fussed over the makeup they could apply in such a short time frame as my mind wandered to jerking off over TMZ pap snaps of Kiernan's feet.

The women left and I sat alone in the room. It would be an excruciating few hours waiting for any pictures to come online. My cock was aching with the excitement of the day. I would have to wait. Anything for Kiernan.


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