The Wholly Other

The Goddess was lying on the couch, her bare feet on the coffee table, the sight like the first time one visits Florence and lays eyes upon Piazza del Duomo, the feeling as if it's possible to swallow your own heart, the tremendum et fascinans from one of the books on his library.

The black bangs covered her forehead and one of the green eyes he knew could launch a thousand ships and burn the topless towers of Ilium. God, why was he thinking about that shit? Only humans quote Marlowe, and why has he helplessly clinging to a humanity he had no need and no memories of when she bit her lip and stifled a laugh while looking at him?

No, he realised. This wasn't the time for thinking, this was the time for every degenerate instinct, every crossed wire in his brain, every psychosexual disorder he possessed. The professor of Religious Studies was nowhere to be seen, only the pathetic little worm was present in that apartment still rank from the joint she had lit up. So he knelt and crawled, like worms do.

Deceptively hard thing to do, crawling. He was getting better at it, though, and quickly made it from the door to the coffee table, didn't even hurt too much. "Well?" She signaled to begin the ritual, amusement in her voice, causing him to look up, from the BoJack Horseman tattoo on her right ankle, black ink on fair skin, to her blue jeans and finally the green t-shirt with the lettering "Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss" slightly deformed by her busom.

He reached for the right pocket and placed the 1000$ on the table, and after a little energetic twist, but fully ready to gnaw it off if necessary, took out the wedding ring from his finger. She courteously bended her foot forward offering free access to her toes and he slowly, trembling, but without a single inkling of a doubt, or any thought whatsoever, clouding his brain, slipped it on her slender big toe, finding himself surprised at the perfect fit.

It felt right to kiss it, so he just did, but it's at that moment that her resistance wore out and the most humiliating laughter filled the surroundings. "Oh my god, what are you even gonna say to your wife when you go home without the ring?" She asked, staring down straight at him, and prompted again when realising he wasn't going to answer: "Come on, what are you going to say?" "I, I lost it getting home in the subway, Miss." He blabbered, hoping to satisfy her, "Good, keep them guessing." She laughed at her own sarcasm.

The erection in his trousers hurt so much, he tried to not focus on it.

She extended her leg forward, resting the foot on his face, a contact he met with a kiss on the sole and a whimper, it wasn't exactly clean but her feet never really got dirty. "Hey, look at that, looks nice doesn't it?" She said, wiggling her big toe, rested dangerously close to his eye. "I was gonna like, melt it down and sell it for scraps but I kinda like how it looks if I leave it there. Maybe you can get me a nice pair of sandals and I start flashing around my new toe ring, what do you think?" "Mmmmpft" he nodded, unable to talk.

"Yeah I figured you would be all for seeing more of my bare feet. Just imagine, maybe I walk around town and run into your wife, oblivious of the whole thing as I strut around the symbol if her vows on my toe." She giggled at the thought, "Or maybe she recognizes it, and questions me about it. I tell her, yeah, your pig of a husband figured it looked better on my foot, and I agree. You are welcome to it, just bend down, give my big toe a little peck and slide it out. You'd like what, wouldn't you?" She asked, punctuating the query with a kick, the heel made hard contact with his upper lip.

"Anyway, you are forbidden from replacing the ring." She said, not waiting for an answer on her question. "I don't care what your wife says, anything that I see wrapped around your finger is ending up one of my toes, got that?"

He looked up at the curled, devilish mouth from which those words came from. God, she must love the feeling too, he thought. "Yes, miss." He replied, allowing only a sliver of brain functions to speaking. A thought reached his mind about how in the hell that was gonna fly at home with his wife, but he pushed it away, knowing that she might have rescinded the diktat at a later moment. Or not, and he would have just lived with what the dark goddess decreed and deal with the consequences.

"You are such a piece of shit." Her musing, a satisfied smirk. "What is it, 25 years of marriage?" "27." he corrected, sharp laughter ensued once again for a brief moment before she snapped out of it. "Ok come on, chop chop now, before Faye gets home." Clapping her hands to gesture him to strip, but he was already motivated by the fact that her roommate was potentially going to stumble upon this grotesque scene, and exposed himself as quickly as he could. The coffee table, previously a barrier between the two, slides away on its IKEA wheels and the naked supplicant assumes the customary position, causing her to not waste any time.

The right foot, with the ring, smashes the erect member on the ground and begins the cyclical motion forward and back. "I should have made you give me her ring, fuckwad." She spits, the foot moves faster. He moans and whimpers.

"What, that hurts? Should I stop?" She mocked, but he is compelled to beg anyway: "No-o-oo please don't stop." "Didn't think so." She replied, and raised the left foot to his face. "Kiss." Ordered, bending it forward for him to crane his neck, remembering how she doesn't allow his hands to touch her feet. A kiss on every toe and on all the inches he could cover on the beautiful foot, but she was feeling playful. "Keep kissing!" Yelled, as she waived it around in every direction while knowing well that he couldn't move much, with his penis firmly and rightfully crushed by the heavenly sole.

"Think about it." She said after tiring of the game, "If I had your wife's ring on my foot, every time you come over you can kiss it and make love like if it was her!" The final word was joined with a thrust forward of her leg, jamming her toes in his mouth. "Mmmmpft" he mouthed, but she was having none of it and kept up the pressure. Reflexively, he began to thrust forward his pelvis towards the foot he was humping, as he tried to will his mouth to enlarge and contain every part of her beauty, running his tongue between the toes, a tried and tested maneuver.

"Mmmh, someone's in a rush, huh? She said, speeding up the pace of her own movement.

He could hear the bells ringing, like at the Sacre Cœr de Montmartre on his honeymoon, his heart was beating like crazy, every sense he possessed immersed in pure worship.

Then suddenly, everything stopped. The object of his delight slipped away from his mouth, the fiery oppressor of his member disappeared, leaving a hard cock vibrating like it could explode at every stimulus. Tempted to hump the floor and finish the business, he finds the strength to look up at the mistress. Her eyes are bulging and her mouth is preoccupied, an evident mocking of what she sees in her face. Then the evil grin pops up once again. "Tongue out, puppy." He obeyed.

Like on a treadmill, she ran the entire length of her feet across his tongue multiple times, then motioned him to come forward: "Say aaah" as her spit slowly dropped down and made a puddle he tried to balance on his tongue. "Now swallow, like a boy. Actually no, swirl it a little bit in your mouth. When you come home, first thing you do is sticking that tongue down your wife's throat, you get me? Don't you dare wash your teeth."

Unable to even conceive of resistance, he nodded. "You know, maybe I keep myself too clean for your filth. Next time you come over I'd really like people to smell the foot on you!"

The last words were emphasized by the foot coming back down on his scrotum, the surprised, pained yelp only brought her another laugh.

He was happy, though, when the foot returned in his mouth, imagining himself ridiculous bobbing up and down in complete pleasure, but not any other feeling in the world came close.

Minutes later, finally, ekstasis. The body outside the body. It got everywhere, and she noticed. "Oh fuck! Look at this mess!" She pulled away, leaving his mouth once again emptied, looking at the entire foot up to the ankle soiled, alongside the floor and a bit of the couch.

Perhaps still too caught up in the fantasy, he took his tongue out, ready to clean, but she pushed him away lightly with her leg. "Yeah right, Mark! Fuck that, let me take a shower. Gotta get going anyway." She got up from the couch, the hearty laugh managed to make Mark laugh as well.

"So, um, definitely clean that shit, maybe put the table back where it was, and close the door when you leave, ok? See you!" She said, softly touching his cheek with her hand, the smile this time warm and pure, like of someone that hasn't ever seen a day of rain, the perfect disguise of her evil nature among the normals. "And feel free to..." She felt to add, one hand gesturing to the now extinguished blunt rested on the rim of her ashtray, while the other one stuffed the stack of bills in her front pocket.

"Oh no, thanks, I haven't really got the age for it anymore. Like, maybe if I didn't have to grade the papers when I get home." "Suit yourself." She replied smilingly and headed towards her bathroom, before suddenly turning around one more time: "By the way, I get the feeling I did extraordinarily well in yet another paper, what do you think?" And winked before disappearing behind the closed door.

"The world's delight is a brief dream." He found himself thinking about the old poem while getting his boxers back on.