The Podiatrist

He was up to his neck in loans, $100,00 to be exact, when he graduated Podiatry school. He had been there for four years and was well schooled in surgery math and chemistry. So he shared an office on 9th Avenue with another young fledgling. Business was slow for a while until his partner, with computer skills put up a wonderful web site, bringing patients in by the droves. His Partner George Willcox bought all the equipment, examining tables that converted to chairs, halogen lights and operating tools. He soon increased his salary from $64,000-$165,00 He was a happy camper.

After work he and George would go to the local tavern "Dixie Dive" and indulge in pints of their special ale. Driving home to Bob's house where his wife would cook them robust meals on the cherry wood table with it's matching chairs. George was single and thoroughly enjoyed Carly's cooking. But Carly soon tired of feeding George almost every day, She was on the school board and was quite busy.

Bob Stein was an ordinary looking man, not good looking neither bad. He was "average" man with sandy brown hair, and a perfect part. He was five-foot eight, a tad short for his liking. But his striking blond wife with her peach complexion didn't mind even though she was five-ten and in heels towered over him. He liked that and often asked her to wear five-inch heel boots with a steel toe. That was the highest she'd go as she would often trip and go flying, bumping into the cherry dining table with it's six matching chairs. He enjoyed chasing her around and around until he cornered her and lured her into the bedroom and partook in devilish deviant boot and feet licking.

That's why he became a podiatrist, studying hard for many years at Western U. in Northern California. Learning all about surgery, foot problems and rather mundane issues such as bunions, heel pain, and hammertoes, He made it through the state and national exams, passing with perfect scores. His foot fetish drove him through boring classes, and mind-bending lecturers. He did like examining the feet of others. That was the best part of Podiatry School.

He was leant money as a graduation gift from his kindly parents, even thought they were mystified over his choice of medicine. They were as proud of him as they could be. At least he wasn't a proctologist they thought. The amount of money they gave him was menial, but was grateful for anything from his kind parents. But he had to pay them back with interest, which didn't help at all. They being quite poor thought they were helping him out. But they weren't.

The practice began to grow, there was one patient lined up after another, but he needed more, that I'll delve into that later. George shared his patients equally with Bob, they were well suited to each other.

He lived in Hackettstown, a small town in New Jersey, which was struggling and aiming for resurgence. It was a good place to live and many people lived in the new sprouting "Mac Mansions." And worked in New York City

He lived in one such "Mac Mansion." on a street called "Ginger Creek, although there was no creek or ginger to be seen. He enjoyed his growing bank account, as did his wife and children. They had everything they wanted.

He was married to his childhood sweetheart Carly, and they had twin daughters. Emily and Megan, they were well behaved even at the age of thirteen, and had good grades. They attended church, went to church picnics and went to garage sales.

Life was sweet.

His wife Carly knowing his sexual attachment to feet made him solemnly swear he would never fool around at work, but she knew he did and that was the way it was, as long as he loved her feet in boots and fishnet stockings. She drove the thought of other women out of her mind, by baking all sorts of cakes, pies and pastries to keep her jealousy in check. Slowly Bob and Carly gained weight. But Bob had a "sweet tooth" and couldn't help himself. He had to buy new white doctor coats, as his buttons were popping open when he bent over the examining table to scrutinize bare feet.

It drove him crazy when the patient's feet were exposed, wiggling their toes around, it didn't matter that they weren't wearing boots with five inch heels like his sexy wife who would feed his addiction whenever he wanted it.

For some reason he liked dirty feet, the cheesy odor of unwashed feet drove him wild. Long ragged toenails, yellowed with age made him wild and horny. He was glad for the new uniforms with room to spare, not only for his potbelly, but also for his penis which stood at full mast at least a few days a week.

One particular night after a huge wedge of chocolate cake, as his stomach rumbled with cramps and impending diahhrea, He did his ritualistic chase after Carly. Backing her into the bedroom he threw her onto the bed, kissing her wildly and nibbling at her breasts, which were cradled in a black bustier, took his wife's left foot and licked the black leather from head to toe. He pulled down his pants and took off his shoes. He nestled his head between her legs, putting her legs over his shoulders, and made her moan. He slid down her boots, baring her fishnets. He licked between the gaps of her stockings, and then pulled them down. Her soft white feet with her pink toenails looked beautiful, too beautiful to admire. He stopped suddenly, looked up at his wife and said

"Carly darling, I can't, I feel sick from all that cake. Let me make you "cum."

"Well alright Bob, are you sure it's the cake?"

"Yes of course I ate too much, sorry." He muttered pulling up his pants.

"Are you up to something at work?"

"Right Carly." He said. "Who would go to a Podiatrist with long leather boots and high heels like yours?"

"I suppose that could happen, but it's never happened to me." He grinned while gripping his belly.

"It should happen to me, I'd be so lucky!" She pushed him away.

"Maybe I should go to a foot doctor wearing my boots and fishnets and see if he gets turned on."

"You're not serious are you Carly?" He laughed and went back between her legs until she squealed with delight.

"Thanks Bob, I owe you one."

She undressed and put on her nightie. He ran to the bathroom hiding a foot fetish magazine under his arm. His wife would disapprove if she caught him reading that. She wanted to believe she was the only person that turned him on.

He undressed, took a slug of "Pepto" and climbed into bed. Carly was fast asleep, so as often he did, crept downstairs and went on the internet searching for dirty feet fetishes. He found them, and as he looked he couldn't help himself and rubbed hard, wishing it was a dirty foot, got furiously stiff and "came" all over his pj's. He let out a sigh of relief, he had found what he was looking for, and needed. Dirty feet.

From then on he only wanted patients with the skankiest feet possible. George had known about his fetish all during Podiatry school. He felt bad for Bob and his needs; and kept his secret. He only assigned the grossest people possible for Bob, which made him very happy indeed.

By then Bob had his fetish down to a science, he conned the grittiest patients into general anesthesia telling them he may hit a nerve and the pain could be excruciating if he didn't put them under. One such patient was Dan Fester, an ancient man with hammertoes, who limped and had a cane. He had met Dan before at a sale in the library, hardbacks were 50cs and paperbacks were only a quarter. Dan had a big pile of books under his creaky arm. He was an avid reader. He held his cane in his left hand and hobbled up to Ms. Smith the head librarian. He started to tumble, the books flying every which way. As he was falling Bob and Carly caught him in mid fall, he straightened himself out and thanked them. They handed him his books.

"Dan you must come in and have those toes taken care of, you may fall again, don't risk it." Said Bob, as quietly as possible. I'll expect you in my office sometime next week Mr. Fester." Fester shuffled out of the library with his huge pile of books in two paper bags.

Carly was waiting for Bob to come to bed. The twins were fast asleep, and she was dressed in black vinyl, she felt very sexy as she lay sideways ion the bed with one booted leg up, it's tall heel digging into the silky sheet.

"Come here Bobby Bob, you bad boy, she whispered as he came in the door. She called him that when she was horny.

"Oh my I wasn't expecting that!" He said, trying to muster up his sexual need. He kept saying to himself, she is so sexy and we haven't done it lately, I'll really concentrate and she'll make me horny. I have to perform or she'll get suspicious.

He jumped on the bed, while juggling with his mind, telling himself how much he loved her and how sexy she was. He was sure of that but her vinyl boots didn't make him hard, not like they used to. He produced a pail of dirt, and to her amazement pulled off her boots and ripped off her stockings.

"What are you doing Bobby Bob? She asked in bewilderment.

"Just go along with me honey please?" He pleaded.

He covered her feet with dirt he had dug from under the deck, and rubbed it over and between her toes. Before she could protest, he was sucking on her toes like a hungry jackal. His mouth was salivating, as the dirt became mud. He got as hard as stone, and then rubbed his penis all over her toes. She opened her legs; she needed whatever he could now give. He went inside her, mud covered, and pounded into her until she collapsed in ecstasy. He withdrew and went between her two mudded feet and rubbed until he "came."

"I need a cigarette!" She said

"But you don't smoke" He laughed.

"I do now."

"Why now?"

"Coz that was weird. I didn't expect mud." She burst out laughing. "Sorry Bobby Bob, That was unexpected."

She couldn't stop laughing.

"Sorry I didn't mean to laugh, but that was so weird. What are you up to at work? Are you doing something you shouldn't?

"No honey I am not doing anything; I am just a regular doctor with regular patients. Trust me please?"

"Okay I believe you, but no more boots, high heels and stockings? Do you like dirty feet? You're a weird one."

She patted his belly. He took out the remaining dirt in the bucket, and bought a bowl into the bedroom, it was sudsy warm water. He gently washed her feet as she lay down like a fawn.

"This isn't so bad Bobby Bob."

They fell asleep in contentment.

The following week Dan Fester came in for his appointment. He was limping badly.

"You're getting surgery today, there's no way you're getting out of it. You could tumble and fall Mr. Fester.'

"I am scared of the anesthesia." He said in a barely audible tone.

"Now now, you'll be fine, I assure you."

Dan Fester bent down and took his shoes and socks off, and lay on the examining table.

"I am going to put an Iv in you and give you Katemine and a muscle relaxant, and you'll drift off to sleep while I straighten out your toes."

"I am scared." He said again.

Bob put his hand on his shoulder, and injected the drug into Dan Fester's arm. The old man slowly closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Bob looked at his twisted gritty feet and got an urge so tremendous he almost broke through his zipper. He squatted between Dan Festers legs and took his toes and slowly lapped his tongue up and down, tasting the sour smell and thick pads of dry skin. Bob "came fast and furiously rubbing himself off on his crisp white coat. Then he got to work on the old man's toes. It was a tedious job but when it was done and all bandaged up Mr. Fester opened his eyes.

"Are you done? Have you fixed my toes?"

"Yes Sir you'll be as right as rain. I'll drive you home.'

"I had the strangest dream, I dreamt you were sucking on my toes, it was like you were actually doing it. It seemed so real Doctor Bob, were you doing that to me?" He looked Bob right in the eye, the cloudy haze of the anesthesia had worn off.

"Of course not, I would never do such a thing, I am a doctor of medicine, and you should respect that."

"I don't believe you, you were sucking on my feet you filthy man. He was trying to get up off the surgical table when Bob pushed him back down.

"Mr. Fester the drug I gave you can cause hallucinations. You imagined it."

"I am going to call the authorities on you, you sicko. Let me up"

"Not until you tell me you won't go to the cops, you old coot."

"You can't stop me, try, just try.

"They won't believe a brain deadwood like you. Get out of here, I'll be sending you the bill, I am calling you a cab."

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer you sick bastard." He put on the surgical shoes, snatching them out of Dr. Bob's hands and limped out.

'I'll get you for this, you'll see, you'll see."