OnlyFeet Pt. 04

OnlyFeet Part 4

Note: All characters depicted are 18 or over.

The soft rustling of magazine pages being slowly turned; the rhythmic clacking of fingers striking keyboards; the gentle creaking as weight shifted in seats - such were the sounds of my workplace. My eyes traced the cracked and wrinkled wallpaper of white and blue. It was old and ugly, yet no one seemed to have the heart to replace it.

Working as a receptionist in a doctor's office wasn't all that bad, really. Yes, the occasional irate or heavily-accented patient could be annoying, but it was a comfortable, albeit low-paying position. The fact that my coworkers were all pretty young women was also a plus. But there was only one woman on my mind, as I idly twirled a pen in my hand.

The events of last night would forever be burned into my mind like a brand. I could barely process it all - going to town on Lyra's feet, her discovery of my fetish, and then her glistening, hot snatch treating my face like a fucktoy.

We hadn't even spoken after that - she had all but passed out on her bed, while I had eventually wriggled out of the restraints and went back home in the dead of night. Part of me was angry at her for using me like that, but the other part... I shivered as I recalled just how ridiculously horny I'd been. Besides, I'd also been taking advantage of her via her feet for weeks now. It's only fair that she got a little comeuppance.

The real question was, where did that leave us now?

Were last night's events the new status quo - with Lyra in complete control? It had felt so good, so right to just submit and let her take the reins. And yet... my pride wouldn't let me back down that easily. It was one thing to enjoy a more submissive role in sex, quite another to just let her dictate everything from now on.

I opened up my texts. There was nothing new from Lyra. I tried not to overthink it - she probably just hadn't gotten up yet. If given the chance, she would sleep till noon. What to say? I had to say something.

I typed Hey Lyra, sorry for

Sorry for what? Leaving? Escaping captivity?

Hey Lyra. Last night was

Awesome? Terrifying? Exhilarating?

Hey Lyra. Last night was pretty crazy... but fun. I had to leave early for work. We gotta lot of shit to talk about. You free tonight?

I sent it after a few more minutes of fruitless second-guessing and anxiety.

"Jalen! Hey, come here!" It was Amy, one of my coworkers. She was Asian, slim, and no more than 5' 2''. Her face was cute and round, and her thick black eyeliner drew attention to her large brown eyes. She was the closest thing I had to a friend at the office, and we usually worked the same shifts. She wasn't particularly well-endowed in either chest or butt, but often wore short skirts that showed off her flawless, browned legs. And attached to those legs were feet almost exclusively clad in a variety of dark flats that were often dangled, to my private enjoyment. She was standing by the water dispenser, which was near the back of the room and away from prying ears. It was her preferred gossip spot.

It was still early in the morning, and there were only two patients in the waiting room - we had time to talk. I went to join her, stretching stiff limbs.

"So what's you got you all brooding today, huh? You've been staring at that phone for the last 10 minutes like it just turned into a roach." If Amy had one vice, it had to be her incessant nosiness.

I took my time to fill up a flimsy paper cup and took a sip before replying, "What can I say, it's a really nice phone. Some quality craftsmanship there."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, come ooooooonnnn. You know you're going to tell me anyway." She pouted.

I tried to keep my face stony, but her plaintive expression forced my lips upwards. Amy could probably wheedle out a juicy story from the Queen's Guard. And boy did I have one heck of a story to tell...

"There's nothing to tell," I insisted. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Yeah right!" She scoffed. "Hmm... ooh, I know, is it Jasmine? I think she has a new boyfriend, you know? I saw they posted a bunch of pictures on Twitter - she was wearing this super cute black dress, and hey - I could have sworn her birthday was coming up -"

"I couldn't care less about Jasmine." I said honestly. "But... why are you following her on Twitter? I don't think you two have ever even met." I had only told Amy about her a few months ago.

Amy's eyes lit up. "Oooh, that's actually a funny story! You see, I was going to this party with Giselle, and it turns out a friend of hers. Lisa, knew Jasmine and invited her. She was there with Brian - you know Brian. Anyway, she's actually pretty fun. I can see why you liked her." She lowered her voice and raised her eyebrows suggestively, "Or maybe... still like her?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Like I said, I'm over her. I haven't even thought about her in ages. Especially not lately."

Amy pounced. "Lately? What's been going on lately?"

I groaned. "Nothing's been going on lately. I've just been focused... on other stuff."

"Other stuff... like a new girlfriend? You're always rushing off so quickly after work now. And you get this goofy little grin sometimes and stare off into space. And we haven't hung out in weeks! You're always busy."

"I'm sorry." I said, genuinely remorseful. Hanging out with Amy and her friends was always fun, if sometimes a little crazy.

"So, you do have a girlfriend, then?" She pressed.

"Not exactly." I prevaricated. "It's... complicated." It's not like I had any romantic interest in Lyra. I was just obsessed with her feet - and she, apparently, liked to tie me up and rub her clit on my face.

"I love complicated!"

I chuckled at Amy's earnestness. "Yeah, I'm sure you do."

The office phone suddenly trilled.

Amy glared at it. She shook her finger at me warningly. "Saved by the bell this time, Jalen. But we are hanging out next weekend. And you will spill about Ms.Complicated." I wasn't sure how she managed to look so intimidating with her head barely reaching above my shoulders, but I meekly fled to the safety of the telephone.

"Dr. Vostoyotska's office, how can I help you?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yeah. We should talk. 5 works for me.

That was the only response I got from Lyra, a few hours after my text. It was... suspiciously neutral. Although, perhaps its brevity hinted at irritation? Either way, our looming talk was all I could think about as the hours ticked by in the office. Even a particularly active dangling day from Amy wasn't enough to distract me from my errant thoughts.

As soon as our shift was up, I all but bolted off to my car. "Off to see Ms. Complicated?" Amy teased.

"I think I left the stove on, actually." I deadpanned.

Amy ignored me. "Have fun!"

Somehow, I doubted my conversation with Lyra would be anything close to fun. On the way to her place, I got a burst of inspiration and stopped at a store to buy a bag of Girl Scout Thin Mint pretzels. They were among Lyra's favorite snack foods, and I figured things might go better if I came bearing gifts.

I was still about half an hour early by the time I got to her place, but I couldn't stomach the thought of having to delay any longer. I knocked on her door.

"Coming!" There was a rustle of movement, and Lyra opened the door. She was clad in black leggings, a dark green T-shirt, and (as was her custom) a pair of mismatched socks. Her face, much like her text, was inscrutable.

"Hey!" I said awkwardly. "How's your day been?"

"Pretty quiet. I slept in - unlike you." A hint of a smile flashed on her lips.

"Yes, quite amusing." I grumbled. "Do you know how long it took me to get out of that chair? I think I finally got home at like one in the morning."

"I knew I tied those knots well." Lyra said proudly. "I forgot you had work the next day. Who works on a Saturday? Ugh."

"So your plan was just to leave me there the whole night?" I asked incredulously.

"Maybe." She answered coyly. "Well, don't just stand out there like a bum. Come inside and give me those pretzels."

I shook my head wryly and stepped past her door. Her place was pretty much exactly how I'd left it. I set the bag of pretzels down on the table and turned back to Lyra.

"Lyra, listen, seriously... I want to apologize for lying to you."

She crossed her arms. "And?"

"And for perving on your feet without you knowing."

"And?"

"And for not telling you about my foot fetish."

"...And?"

"And..." I wracked my brain, "For... being a bad foot slave?"

Lyra's facade broke and she giggled. "I don't know if I can forgive that last one. That's a pretty serious transgression."

I sighed. "Here I am, being sincere, and they just mock me for my efforts."

"C'mon, you know I'm just fucking with you. Besides, I'm not exactly blameless here. I did, sort of, tie you up in a chair and just leave you there. And I might've gotten a little carried away with the whole Dom routine."

"A little?"

"Please. Don't act like you didn't love every second of it!" She smirked.

I looked away. Ok, maybe I'd liked it. A bit.

"I'm glad shit happened the way it did, though." Lyra eventually said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I discovered a kink I never even knew I had. And, I gotta say - making all those videos - it's pretty fun."

"Yeah, it sure is." I agreed.

She scoffed. "Of course you would say that. You're pretty much living out a foot guy's wet dream."

I flicked some imaginary dust off my shoulders. "What can I say? To the victor go the spoils. You fell right into my devious trap. It was a masterpiece of subtle manipulation and -"

A pillow thwocked me right in the face.

"A man can't go on a self-aggrandizing monologue around here?" I protested. A second pillow confirmed that indeed, monologues were frowned upon in these parts.

I backpedaled behind a chair and gathered up the fallen pillows. I launched my counterattack, scoring two hits to her midsection. She leaped onto the bed to gather more ammunition. "Have you forgotten who's in charge here?" Lyra challenged. A new barrage was sent my way.

I waited until she had tossed all her remaining pillows, then grabbed one and jumped on the bed after her. She squealed in outrage and covered her face while I began a relentless assault. She tried rolling away, but I straddled her hips and pinned her arms.

"I win." I gloated. As she twisted and squirmed, her hips pressed on and off against my crotch.

"You cheated." She denied. "You broke the sacred laws of Pillow Warfare: pillows may only be used as thrown projectiles."

"A win is a win." She started to fidget more. "You know, I think I'm starting to get the appeal of this whole Dom thing."

"Good for you." She grumbled. "Now let me go already." Lyra was clearly not relishing in the wonders of submission.

I hesitated. "Hmm... I think I deserve a reward for winning."

She thrust her hips out aggressively. "Looks like you already feel pretty 'rewarded' to me." My dick certainly agreed.

"That's more of a side effect than a reward." I argued.

Lyra smirked up at me. "We didn't finish recording that video yesterday. I still want a few more scenes - foot-smelling, kissing, licking, maybe some toe-gagging. How's that for your reward?"

"I supposed it'll have to do." I replied loftily.

As I got off her and grabbed a seat by the table, I felt relieved. I had been so worried that things would be terribly awkward, or that the dynamic of our relationship would be irrevocably altered. But it was the same old Lyra - except maybe a little more self-assured than usual.

We started going through the clips that we did have, touching them up and editing when need be. Well, I was doing most of the work, while Lyra snacked on chocolate pretzels and occasionally commented.

It felt surreal, watching myself lick Lyra's boots and get slapped by her feet. It was also hot - certainly the kind of foot fetish material I would enjoy in private. My dick stayed uncomfortably half-hard as I parsed through the video over and over again.

"Alright." I eventually said. "Those are about as polished as can be. Ready to start recording?"

Lyra blearily grunted from the couch where she had been napping. "We don't have to record today. I just finished a workout before you got here - ugh - abs, legs, butt... I just want to sleep."

I was continually amazed at Lyra's capacity to sleep through most of the day. She had probably gotten up around noon, lazed about for a few hours, worked out, and now wanted to go back to sleep before 6. She was practically a feline in human form.

"C'mon," I coaxed her, "It's just a few scenes... and you'll get to put on that sexy outfit again!"

Lyra just groaned. "Oh, do you know how annoying that thing was to put on the first time? So many straps and little laces. And besides, we can't possibly record today." She finished triumphantly.

"Oh, why's that then?" I posed, quite sure the reason was completely inane.

"You're wearing a completely different outfit! We can't have that... discontinuity in our videos. That's just... unprofessional."

"Mmhmmm, you're right, the twenty minute drive it would take to get home and back is quite beyond us."

"Glad you agree then." She buried her face in a pillow contentedly.

I was miffed. I had been looking forward to my promised 'reward' of her feet, and I was still horny from all the video editing.

"You know," I started casually, "They say foot massages are really relaxing. Good for helping people fall asleep and all that."

Lyra, even in her sleepy state, caught on quickly. "Yeah. yeah, do your thing if you want. Just do it quietly. None of that groaning and slurping and whatnot. S'pose you deserve a little something after I promised you some feet tonight." She shifted on the couch so she was lying on her side, with her feet resting one on top of the other, facing me.

I grinned. I liked Sleepy Lyra. I scooted closer and pressed my nose into her threadbare, mismatched socks. I bit back a moan of pleasure, heeding her prior words. I could definitely tell she had been working out. Even through the thin barrier, her scent was unmistakable: that cheesy, delicious musk that seemed to shoot straight to my cock. For once, I really took my time to enjoy her scent. There were no more secrets between us anymore - no need to pretend like I didn't enjoy it.

I sampled different areas of her socked feet, taking particular pleasure in a large hole just under her toes. While my nostrils worked, my hands did as well - rubbing slow circles all over her soles. I started to gently peel back one sock, ever so incrementally, until just her heel was revealed. I admired its smoothness with my thumb, before allowing myself to inhale deeply. My dick seemed to get harder with each passing second as it pressed painfully against my jeans.

I continued inching her sock up till it was just under her toes, revealing that beautiful expanse of wrinkled sole. Lyra hummed contentedly as my fingers threaded their way through her instep. My tongue brushed hungrily into the hills and valleys of her arch, savoring the salty sweat buried in each crevasse. Finally, I eased the sock off her foot completely.

I took a moment to admire her foot in its naked glory - the smooth toes descending in perfect order, the dozens of fine lines and wrinkles crisscrossing her sole, the slightly darker heel contrasted against the paler skin along the subtle curve of her arch. My nose dug into the underside of her toes, working its way from her big toe to her pinky. Her scent was strongest here, and my cock seemed to throb in time with each inhale.

I slipped her big toe into my mouth. My lips applied a delicate seal while my tongue swirled around, gathering up her delicious sweat like nectar. I repeated this process for each of her toes - slowly, deliberately. There was no rush here.

Like a sommelier tasting his favorite wine, I sampled every spot on her foot. I particularly enjoyed the area in between her toes, rich with her musk. But a spot just below her heel turned out to be unexpectedly fragrant as well.

I finally decided to move onto her next foot. Intent on repeating my experience with her other foot, I started easing her sock off. I peeked up at Lyra. Although she still maintained the illusion of rest, her elevated breathing and occasional soft sigh confirmed that I wasn't the only one getting aroused.

When I paused with her sock halfway off, she let out a frustrated groan. "Don't tell me you're gonna be that slow with the other one too, gramps."

I grinned. "Why not? I think you liked it." My fingers worked around her heel.

"The foreplay's over! Besides," she continued in a low, seductive tone, "Don't you want to gag on my toes again? Mmmmm, I bet it would feel so good, filling your mouth with those sweaty toes. I could order you if you want... I know you like that." She twisted around so she was lying on her belly, and pressed her yet un-worshipped foot against my member.

I wasted no time in wrenching the sock off and burying my face in her foot. A fog of lust descended upon me as Lyra's words vaporized my self-control. With one hand I guided her toes and crammed them into my mouth; the other desperately worked to undo my belt.

Lyra was absolutely in her element. "Ooooh, I love it when you follow orders like a good little foot slut. I don't hear you gagging though!"

I forced her foot deeper into my mouth, salivating wildly as my tongue lapped up her sweaty toes. I finally discarded my belt.

Lyra wiggled her toes deep in the back of my throat. I sputtered and her foot plopped out of my mouth, glistening with saliva. I took the opportunity to tear my pants off. Lyra frowned at the delay and twisted around, facing me.

"Who told you could take your pants off?" Her eyes gleamed with an amused smirk.

My lust-addled mind struggled to come up with an argument. "You said... I could do my thing."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"And you took that to mean... what, exactly?" Her right foot landed on my inner thigh.

"That I could do what I want... within reason." I suppressed a shudder as her toes curled up my leg, hovering an inch or so from the pronounced tent in my boxers.

"And what do you want?" I grunted as she gently nudged my balls. "Do you want to cum on these toes? Oh yeah, I bet you're dying to blow your load on these sexy feet."

"Fuck, yes." I groaned. She rubbed her big toe right across my glans, releasing a strand of precum that oozed into my boxers.

"Yeah, you wanna see that dick sliding between my soles? Here, lube it up first." Her left foot aggressively shot into my mouth. She pumped it in and out slowly, till it was slick with slobber.

I couldn't wait any longer - I stripped off my underwear and tossed it aside.

Lyra clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Someone's eager, eh? Maybe a little too eager... I hope you last longer this time." She smirked.

I huffed. "That last time didn't count. There were... extenuating circumstances."

"Yeah, uh-huh." Her foot tapped my shaft playfully. "How about a friendly wager, then? If you last longer than... three minutes, let's say, you get to choose what we're doing for our next video... within reason."

"And if you win?"

"When I win, I get to choose. Only I might not be so... reasonable." Her tone almost made me shiver. Losing might not all be that terrible, really. But my pride would never let me lose on purpose. Besides, I wasn't some one-pump-chump. Lasting three minutes was a walk in the park.