Learning to Serve

Acknowledgment: "Slave to a White Girl" by herslave on another forum provided the inspiration for much of this story. Some situations will be familiar to fans of StaWG, but I hope it's unique enough for readers to enjoy both.

Chapter 1: My First Visit

The summer after high school I volunteered for park service doing trail cleanup. That's when I met Liza. The park rangers divided the volunteers into two groups and they made Liza the leader of my group.

I had never had an experience with another girl before, but I knew I was leaning that way. I immediately noticed how Liza's long, athletic legs stood like two strong yet graceful columns supporting a body perfect enough to carve in marble and display at the Louvre. She was much taller than me, probably 5'8" or 5'9". She kept her brunette hair tied back away from her face. Overall, she looked like a princess. She must come from a wealthy family, I thought.

Liza immediately took charge, assigning each of the five girls in her group an area to pull weeds. I jumped right in, eager to make a good impression. I didn't know any of the other girls there, but none of them seemed to take the work as seriously as me.

I finished my area while the girls in the two sections next to me spent most of the time gossiping. Liza soon wandered down the trail.

"Excuse me," I said looking nervously up at Liza. "Liza, I finished the area you assigned me. What should I do next?"

"Well, let's see how well you did before you move on," Liza said, examining my section. "This actually looks pretty good." She reached the border of my area and the section where the two chatty Kathy's were. "You missed one there," she said, pointing with the tip of her boot.

I immediately knelt in front of her and wedged my tiny spade under the stubborn weed. After wrestling with it briefly, "Got it!" I shouted triumphantly, lofting the weed from my kneeling position for Liza's inspection.

Liza, though, was looking at the lazy girls blathering just ahead. Her stern look of displeasure detracted nothing from her natural beauty.

She looked down at me as if surprised to see me there. "You got dirt on my boot," she said flatly.

Looking down, I saw where several grains of dirt had fallen from my weed to land right on Liza's expensive hiking boot. "Oh. I'm sorry." I discarded the weed and used both hands to brush the soil away. I looked back up at Liza. She was again eyeing the girls ahead who seemed to have completely given up on their duties.

"Never mind that," Liza said. "Follow me." She stalked off down the trail without waiting for me to get off the ground. I jumped up and hurried behind.

The two girls eyed Liza suspiciously as she approached. "If you ladies came here just to talk, you could have stayed at home. Now, you've made our crew fall behind. Thanks to you, we may not finish this section today."

The girls rolled their eyes blatantly right at Liza, but they sat down and made a lackadaisical attempt.

"You, what's your name?" Liza demanded from me.

I extended my hand saying, "I'm Susan, pleased to m-."

Liza cut me off, "Do you think you can help these two and try to get us back on track?"

"Sure, Liza, no problem."

I dropped right there and started pulling weeds. If we were going to complete the area for both those girls who had pretty much wasted the whole morning, I knew I'd have to work fast.

As soon as Liza headed off back in the direction of the park ranger, the two girls started complaining. "God what a bitch!" and "Who the hell died and made her boss?"

"Well I think she's right," I interjected.

"Mind your own business, little miss goody two shoes," they said. They continued berating Liza behind her back occasionally throwing an insult my way, too. I just focused on completing the job Liza gave us.

Later, I was just finishing the last bit of both areas (!) when Liza walked up. I remained on my knees as she approached. "Wow, you did all this?" The other two girls were nowhere in sight.

"Yes. You said we needed to get this section done, so I worked extra hard to try and catch up."

"It looks great." Liza reached down and stroked my hair affectionately. "Follow me. You can grab a sandwich, then I have a few more things you can help with before we wrap up."

After lunch, I followed Liza around for the rest of the afternoon doing whatever she said. Liza seemed delighted with my obedience. When she smiled at my eagerness, I felt warm and quivery inside.

When we finished, Liza said, "I'm playing tennis with my friend Morgan after this. You should come watch."

"That sounds great," I agreed.

"The courts are near my house. Follow me home. I'll change and we can walk from there."

I climbed in my Honda Civic and pulled out behind Liza in her Range Rover. A few minutes later, we were driving through the nicest neighborhood in the county. Liza pulled into a big driveway and disappeared while I waited outside. She popped out about 20 minutes later wearing her tennis skirt, court shoes and carrying a bag with the rest of her stuff.

"Here, carry this," she said, handing me the bag. "I need to save my arm for the match."

I carried the bag as we chatted while we walked. I discovered that Liza, short for Elizabeth, was also 18 and in her last summer before college. She had gone to the nicest private school in the area. Her school was smaller than the public high school I attended, but they were still our primary rivals. It was not really much of a rivalry, though. Despite a student body less than a third of ours, Liza's school dominated our competitions.

I also learned that Liza was planning to attend the most selective university a couple of states away on a tennis scholarship, she was majoring in business and while she liked to have fun with lots of her guy friends, she wasn't dating anyone at the moment.

We talked mostly about her, so I didn't get a chance to tell her I was on Flag Corps at my high school or that I was staying home to attend the local state college.

When we got to the courts, Morgan was already there, causally hitting the ball against the wall. Liza told me to put her things down near the net as she walked over and gave Morgan a hug.

"Who's your little friend?" Morgan asked. Little was right compared to these two. Liza was about four inches taller than me and Morgan was three. Height is where the similarity between Liza and Morgan ended, though. Morgan had blonde curly hair that ended just above her shoulders. She looked thicker and more muscular than Liza's lithe, gymnast-like form. Morgan was still pretty in her own way, though.

"Just some girl I met at the park. She was pretty helpful, so I thought I'd bring her along to chase balls for us." They both looked at me. Morgan restrained a laugh. Liza smiled, "You can do that for us, can't you? That way, we can concentrate on our game."

Oh, her smile. "Uh, sure Liza," I blurted, too cheerfully. She hadn't mentioned anything about making me their ball girl, but I was happy if it made Liza happy.

They played for over an hour and a half and taught me how to be a ball girl as they went. By the end, I knew just when to run out on the court, who to give the ball to, and when to hold on to them myself. I think I got almost as good a workout as they did, and I only got hit in the head by the ball once.

"Why don't you just leave your car here, Morgan? We'll come back for it later," Liza suggested. "You. Carry these bags back to the house for us," Liza ordered me.

I picked up both girls' bags and followed them back to Liza's house while they chatted.

When we arrived at Liza's, Morgan and her sat in two chairs separated by a little end table. The next nearest seat was all the way on the other end of the porch. I put their bags near the door and leaned on the railing. They continued their conversation as if I weren't even there. Finally, Liza looked at me.

"Why don't you sit down?" She asked, with a curt nod of her head toward the floor in front of her.

That was fine by me. I felt like a third wheel standing off to the side. I sat cross-legged right in front of Liza and looked up at her.

"Help me off with these shoes," Liza said, turning slightly so the toes of her crossed leg pointed directly at my chest. "My feet are all hot from tennis."

I didn't mind. I was just happy that Liza was paying attention to me. Anyway, it was easier for me since I was right there. I unlaced her shoe, then held the toe against my chest as I slowly slid off the heel. Her white ankle sock felt quite damp.

"Ahh, that feels better," Liza gushed. She splayed her toes inside her sock as she twirled her foot at the ankle, passing her toes just in front of my chin. She crossed her legs the other way and I repeated the process with the other shoe. Again she spread her toes and flexed her ankle. Her foot seemed awfully big, a size nine I learned later.

"Mine too," Morgan ordered from my left. She extended her foot and kicked my breast insistently. I was abruptly annoyed that she had interrupted my attention to Liza. I looked at Liza for support, but she had turned toward Morgan.

Deciding I should just get it over with, I quickly unlaced Morgan's shoe and yanked it off. She extended the other one and held it just two inches from my lips. I pulled it down away from my face and extracted her similarly damp socked foot.

"Go in and get us two tall glasses of lemonade. Put some ice, but not too much. Ask my mom if you need help finding anything." Liza seemed to like giving orders. As I got up to go, Liza added, "You can bring a glass of tap water for yourself if you like."

That was a strange order, I thought. Whatever.

I returned with their drinks and resumed my spot on the floor in front of Liza. After a moment, Liza took a big gulp from her drink. Holding it next to her face, she looked down at me. "I like the way you follow orders. Do you always do what you're told?" she asked.

My face warmed with embarrassment. I hesitated, then said "No, not really. I just liked the way you took charge at the park." I wanted to add, "Plus, I think you're incredibly hot," but I was already too embarrassed. Also, somehow, the grandeur of her house, her neighborhood and her expensive car conspired to make me feel more than a little inferior.

"Why don't you rub my feet." Liza turned her legs so that her socked foot was less than an inch from my nose. The way she said it, it didn't really sound like a question.

I had never rubbed another person's feet. What if she didn't like the way I did it? What if her friend laughed at me? My hands trembled as I held her foot and made tentative rubbing motions.

"No dummy. I said rub my foot not my sock. You have to take my socks off first."

Feeling stupid, I peeled the damp sock from her foot. She placed her moist foot in my lap and offered me the other one. I reached over to cram her socks inside her shoes. "Don't put those there," she said. "They have to air out first."

I looked up at her, wondering what she intended. "Here, I know." Liza leaned forward and extended her hand. Snatching her socks from my fingers, she draped one over each of my shoulders. "There. That should give them plenty of air." Liza giggled, pleased with her solution, then leaned back and put her foot back in my hands. Morgan cackled obnoxiously, but I ignored her.

I rubbed Liza's foot for a few minutes, not really knowing what I was doing. Liza and Morgan went back to chatting. I relaxed and concentrated on my task. As I grew more comfortable, I experimented more. I ran my fingers firmly along the muscles of Liza's foot and worked the joints. New ideas for soothing her foot seemed to pop into my head.

Liza looked back at me and said, "Wow, you're really good at this. Do you give a lot of foot rubs?"

"No. Actually this is my first one." Her acknowledgement made me proud.

"Well you're a natural. It's like you were born to rub my feet."

I redoubled my efforts and found myself studying Liza's foot as I rubbed. It was long, smooth and soft. Her foot seemed much larger and better cared for than mine. Her toes were long, but sturdy. The top of her foot had a light tan, even though it was still early in the summer. Her arch was creamy white, while the pads of her heel and toes were a darker pink. Her nails were unpolished, but they seemed to naturally have the pink tone and white tips of a French pedicure.

Suddenly, Morgan again interrupted my reverie. She straightened one leg and rested the back of that heel on my shoulder, then crossed the other leg at the ankle so that the bottom of her sock was pressed to the left side of my head.

I looked over at her, trying to contain my anger. She read the emotion on my face and laughed haughtily. I wanted to fling her feet away from me, but I looked over at Liza first. Liza removed her foot from my hands and stuck the sole right in front of my face. She scrunched and straightened her toes expectantly.

Taking Liza's toe scrunches as a signal to focus on her, I grasped Liza's foot and did my best to ignore Morgan. Just as I started to get back in the groove with Liza's massage, Morgan began dragging her toes idly back and forth, wiping the bottom of her sock from my temple to my ear.

I wanted to swat Morgan's feet off of me, but I didn't want to make a scene or interrupt the massage I was giving Liza. Instead, I did my best to ignore Morgan and concentrate on Liza, but it wasn't easy.

I'm not sure how long I rubbed Liza's feet. It seemed like a long time. Finally, she removed her foot from my hands and put them on my other shoulder, the same as Morgan had done. Liza's bare left foot pressed against the other side of my head, trapping my face between hers and Morgan's feet.

I looked at Liza for a sign of what she wanted me to do next, but she was still talking with Morgan. Morgan continued to slide her foot across my face, so I turned my head more toward Liza's foot. My nose tucked right into Liza's arch. When I blinked, my eyelashes brushed against the ball of her foot.

I felt Morgan's foot press into the back of my head, forcing my face against Liza's sole as Morgan laughed cruelly. I just ignored her again. After she let up, I let my face rest lightly against the bottom of Liza's foot. Liza and Morgan went on with their conversation. Liza's foot was still sweaty, but it smelled nice.

Eventually, Liza began slapping her toes against my forehead. I noticed both girls were laughing again. I turned toward Liza. "Enjoying the smell?" She asked. She reached to set her phone back on the table. I was afraid she had just taken a picture.

My mouth moved, but no sound came out. I couldn't admit that I liked the smell of her feet, but I didn't want to lie either. Before I could think of anything, Liza added, "Take my shoes and tennis bag inside. Ask my mom where to put them. Then ask her where to find my flip flops and bring them to me." They both removed their feet from my shoulders as she spoke.

When I returned, Liza turned the bottom of her bare foot in my direction. Understanding her signal, I went to my knees and slipped on her pink and black Juicy Couture flip flop. I sat like that for a few more minutes before Liza re-crossed her legs and allowed me to slip on the other one.

"What's your name?" Liza asked. I guess she had forgotten it from this morning.

"Susan Ka-."

"Give me your number," Liza ordered. She keyed it into her cell phone saying, "I'll call you when I need another foot rub." They both laughed. "Bye, now," Liza added, waving me away with the palm of her hand. They were still laughing as I crossed the lawn to my car.

Chapter 2: My Second Visit

When I got home and walked in the door, mom asked, "How was the park cleanup, dear? You sure were gone a long time."

"Sorry, mom," I replied. "Working at the park was fun. I made some new friends and hung out at their place for a while."

"What's that on your shoulders, honey?" Mom asked.

Suddenly I realized I had forgotten about Liza's socks. "Oh nothing. Liza put them there as a joke and I forgot all about them." I grabbed the socks and ran up stairs. "I'll be down in a bit!" I called back to mom.

As soon as I got to my room, I cradled Liza's socks in my hands and buried my face in them, inhaling deeply. They still held the wonderful scent of Liza's feet, but they also smelled of tennis shoe. I dropped to my knees and breathed deeply from Liza's moist socks until I started to get a little dizzy.

I stuffed Liza's socks inside my pillowcase. Each night, I took them out and rubbed them on my face, pretending they were Liza's feet.

I kept hoping she'd call, but I never heard from her. Fortunately, another park cleanup was scheduled for the coming Saturday.

When Saturday arrived, I showed up for park cleanup a half an hour early. My stomach was already queasy as I looked in vain for Liza. Finally, she showed up a few minutes after we started. The park ranger put her in charge of one of the groups again, and I made sure to be in her group.

Liza didn't acknowledge me at all. It was like she had completely forgotten about our previous encounter. I stuck next to her all day and she gave me plenty of orders, but I wondered if that was because she remembered me or if she was always like that.

Finally, we got to the end of the session and Liza said, "I'm not playing tennis today, but you can still come over and rub my feet."

"Ok," I said. "I'll just follow you?"

"Right. You can park on the street, but don't park right in front of my house. Park a few houses down. But hurry back so that you don't keep me waiting. Come in through the garage."

I followed Liza back and parked two houses down as instructed. I ran from my car and got to Liza's garage just as she was going in the house. I followed her in, trying to catch my breath.

"Take my boots off," she ordered. I knelt on the hard tile floor and unlaced her boots, slipping them off one at a time. I held the top of her sock and looked up at her for guidance. "Leave those on for now.

"Hey, that reminds me. Did you bring back my socks from last time?" Still kneeling, I reached in my pocket and handed Liza her socks, which I had washed and folded neatly. "You can hang on to them for now. Just don't forget to leave them in my room."

I followed Liza through their kitchen, which seemed as large as the whole downstairs of the house where my mom and I lived. Liza stuck her head out the back door and yelled, "Hi mom, I'm home!" before I followed her into the family room.

Liza sat back on a large sofa and pointed at the floor in front of her. I knelt there and grasped the top of her sock, again looking to her for approval. She nodded once and I proceed to slide off her athletic socks. They were only slightly moist, much dryer than last time. I paused briefly, wondering where to put the socks before deciding to stuff them in my other pocket.

"Where do those go?" Liza said sternly?

Looking up, I saw her steely gaze. I smoothed the socks straight and one draped over each shoulder. Liza grinned with satisfaction.

"Go and get me a lemonade before we start. Not too much ice." I jumped up to follow her bidding. When I returned, I handed Liza the tall glass. She glanced at it, a disappointed look sweeping her face. "That's too much ice. Go dump some out and bring it back."

I rushed back to the kitchen. When I returned, I knelt back in place and then handed her the drink. She took a big swallow, then looked at me and said, "You should give me a pedicure first. Then, if I have time, you can rub my feet." She looked at me expectantly.

"Ok," I said uncertainly.

"Go up to my room and get the tray from the vanity in my bathroom. You remember where my room is, don't you?"

"Yes, Liza."

"Then hurry along."

I scurried upstairs and found the tray with her nail kit and polishes. Returning, I knelt in front of her and held the tray for her to pick a color. Ignoring me, she tossed a pillow from to the floor and rested her foot on it, then turned and browsed leisurely through her polishes.