Wedding Invitation

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Sam and Rachel grow apart, but she wants him back at her fee.
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Vanquished
Vanquished
111 Followers

"I'm here!" She had the same smile on her face that was forever burned into his memory. "God, I missed you!"

They ran towards each other. She was graceful as a bird, and he carried a heavy wheelie bag.

"Oof, Rachel!" He almost lost his footing as she threw herself at him and they melted into a tight embrace. "You're happy to see me, but there's no need to knock me out."

She laughed. "But I'm a knockout! You always said so."

Her hair was curly and dark brown, and her eyes stared down on him with that same shade of green he'd always failed to capture in his drawings. She retained a toned body, moderate in its curves, with thin, long limbs. Before he could stop himself, he glanced down at her dirty running shoes.

Not even five minutes and he was already blushing.

"The weather's lovely, and I packed a meal." She tugged him by the hand, leading him through the airport.

"I just got here, it's been a long flight and--"

"Nonsense." She brushed his lips with her finger, as if shushing a child. Her touch made him shiver, and his heart jumped in his chest. Something about her attitude still excited him. "It took my wedding to get you here and we're not wasting a single second."

"Before I forget, best wishes to you and Nathan. Looks like age hasn't mellowed you any." His lips curled into a gentle smile to soften his words.

She squeezed his hand and grinned, making his heart stutter again.

"I knew you'd understand." She opened the boot, lifted his suitcase one-handed, and laid it gently. "Now get in the car, bitch." She smirked and playfully shoved him into the passenger seat.

*****

The park was enormous. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, children played, couples walked together, and birds chirped, helping him forget his cares. There was nothing like this in their small town. They'd been walking for hours, each holding a basket he found heavier with every step.

"Regent's Park, is it?" he asked. "Does it ever end?"

"Wimp." She elbowed his ribs and laughed brightly. "I know you had a long trip." She spread a blanket and sat down.

"At last," he said with a deep sigh. "What's in there, rocks?" He opened the basket and beamed.

"Much better than rocks, isn't it?"

He nodded, took a bottle of wine, and opened it while Rachel unpacked the sandwiches.

"To our friendship." She raised her glass and toasted, looking into his eyes. "And more frequent meetings. A decade is too long."

He nodded, took a sip, and smiled. It was an excellent wine he could never afford.

They had a pleasant meal, and afterwards she offered him another bottle of something sweeter.

Hours passed as they lay under the sun, hand in hand, talking, drinking, and enjoying each other's company in a lazy afternoon.

She sat up, and he sighed, thinking it was over. Instead, she untied her laces, and kicked off her shoes with a groan, then lay back again.

"Sorry, but my feet were too hot," she said, wiggling her toes in her damp socks.

His nose wrinkled at the unforgettable smell. He hadn't counted on being able to avoid it entirely, but he wasn't looking forward to it. He blushed as the stink brought in a flood of memories he tried not to dwell on.

"Um..." He coughed. "Well, at least you waited until the meal was done."

"Of course I did, silly. I was eating too."

He tried to continue the conversation, but his mood was broken, and his overtures felt awkward and contrived.

"I wonder..." She turned towards him. "Would you be a dear and give me a foot massage? Like in the old days, remember?"

His blushed deepened and he shivered as she lay a finger on his warm, red cheek.

"Rachel..."

"Come on, say yes. They're so hot and sore. You know I always get my way in the end."

Hoping to find the words to politely demur, he took a deep breath, but as the air went in, the smell, now overwhelming, made him snap.

"No way! Maybe I'd be willing to do it at home; but we're in public. Not to mention, they--"

"They what?"

"They... stink."

She pouted, and he felt a pang of guilt. Had he been too harsh?

She finished her glass, and stretched with a groan.

His eyes closed for a moment, as he yawned in sympathy.

She rammed her knees into his belly, knocking the wind out of him.

Paralysed by pain and shock, he gasped for air while she cackled, sat on him, and planted her reeking, sweaty socks on his face.

"Rude, Sammy." She wiped her soles all over his nose, cheeks and lips, leaving streaks of sweat and sock fuzz on his skin. "I bet you wish you'd said yes now, but I'll give you one chance to apologise."

"What the hell, Rachel!" He tossed his head from side to side to avoid the nauseating stench, but every time he escaped, his nose ended up pressed against the toes of her other foot. "Stop this. We're not kids anymore."

"You can't imagine how I missed shoving my dirty feet in your face." She shifted, resting her butt on his crotch, and he fruitlessly wriggled. "I love how you squirm, too. We have to do this more often!"

To compound his embarrassment, he could hear people laugh in the distance, and see them approach from the corner of his eyes.

Even worse, though he hated the smell and the way she humiliated him, it somehow always got him aroused, and he could feel his cock getting hard against her weight.

"Please, Rachel. This isn't funny. Get off me."

Her lips pursed into a mischievous expression, and her feet kept rubbing and treading on his face. "Beg me to let you give me a massage. You know you want it."

"You're out of your fucking mind."

She gently brushed his cheek with one foot, heel to toe. Her smile softened, and her eyes pierced into his until he averted his gaze.

"You know I can make you, sweetie." She caressed his other cheek. "No point in resisting."

He whimpered, and her toe traced around his lips.

"Fine. I'm begging you to stop, please, Rachel."

"Not good enough." She sounded disappointed. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm looking forward to teaching you a lesson, so..."

He gulped and made one last effort to topple her, but she was stronger than him. She remained still, letting him tire himself out.

Leaning forward, she pushed her soles against his cheeks, squeezing his face, and ran her hands along his sides, until her fingers reached his armpits.

She could see the precise moment he realised what was about to happen as he blanched and gazed up with submissive, pleading eyes.

She let the tension build for a few moments, and grinned. His despair and shame were plain, and she drank it all in before she wiggled her fingers under his arms.

His reaction was explosive. He laughed and writhed, though her feet pinned his face forcing him to look straight up at her.

He tried pushing her hands away, but he had no leverage. All he could do was giggling, panting and wriggling beneath her. That was before she turned his head, trod on his cheek, rammed the other foot on his lips, sealing them shut, and cupped his nose with her toes, forcing all his frantic, desperate breaths to be filled with the fetid stench of unwashed socks, as he took lungful after lungful of reeking, sweltering foot sweat.

"Aw, is widdle Sammy ticklish?" she cooed, speeding her fingers up and giggling as she felt him try to buck and twist. "Your breath feels good on my toes. I think I'll keep you like this a while."

He moaned and whimpered, trying to beg her to stop, but the ball of her foot turned his words into inarticulate noises.

"I'll let you talk and give my fingers a rest." She relieved the pressure over his mouth, making sure his nose was still engulfed in her stinky toes.

"Rachel... I beg you, let me rub your feet."

"You know the rules. Don't pretend you forgot."

He hesitated, until he felt her fingertips jab his armpits.

"I'm... a weak little bitch."

"good girl," Rachel cooed. "Go on."

"You're in charge because you're better than me."

She idly brushed his earlobe with her toes, enjoying his surrender.

"I'm sorry for being a naughty... g-girl..." His cheeks went crimson. "I... must always do as I'm told. Please, I beg your forgiveness, and hope you let me give you a foot massage."

"Now kiss."

He kissed again and again as she pressed every part of her foot on his lips.

"Good bitch."

"I hate this."

"You're lying. I could check, but I don't have to. You see, your sister was worried about you."

"Worried? Why?"

"It's been ten years. I'm running an engineering division, Nathan's an international arbitrator, and you? Back home doing temp dead-end jobs."

"It's..."

She shushed him with her toe. "You were the smartest, most talented of us three." She sniffled. "But you don't paint, you don't write, you don't even date!"

"Rachel, I--"

"Shut up!" She thrust her toe inside his mouth so deep he gagged. "She found your hidden drawer, Sammy. We all know. Nathan, too."

He cried tears of shame. He kept his secret drawings there, since that time Rachel dominated him and awoke something dirty and irresistible: him at her feet, serving her, held on a leash, or shrunk and used like a toy for her amusement.

"The first time I made you smell my feet, you almost cried." She took her foot out of his mouth and made him look up at her again. "I got carried away, and I was upset, too, scared I'd destroyed our friendship."

"You never said anything."

"You acted like nothing happened. The next day I told you to get on the floor so Nathan and I could cuddle on the sofa. I was teasing you, but you did it. You obeyed... and I... enjoyed that."

He gasped at the memory.

"Then it became a punishment. Something I did to you when you were annoying." Her feet were caressing him now, and her voice was soft and gentle. "But that wasn't enough, so I made you do it every day. You complained, but you never refused to visit. Now I know you loved it as much as I did."

"I'm sorry, Rachel... I should have--"

"It's my fault, too. I never explained."

"So, what happens now?"

"You need me in charge, and I want you here. Not as my boyfriend. You know that."

He nodded.

"Nathan will make you do meaningful work. You'll also be our maid, cook, clean and pick up after us, and I'll treat you like the little bitch you yearn to be. I'll dress you up as a doll, and mould you into my servile foot girl."

He gulped as hot flushes of arousal went down his body.

"Socks off, now."

With trembling fingers, he removed her socks, uncovering her beautiful but grimy bare feet. Her toenails shone red, and the submissive part of him wanted to suck them.

"Close your eyes, smile for me, and open your mouth."

He obeyed, and felt her move around, until she pushed her big toe past his lips. He heard a shutter sound, and his cheeks burned with shame. His eyes opened wide with shock, and before he could react, she took another picture with him looking straight into the camera.

"Lovely," she said.

"You didn't--"

"Ah, your sister thinks so too."

She took a few more pictures, giggling throughout, with him sniffing, kissing, and licking her feet, ever more flustered and submissive.

"You see, Sammy? I always get my way in the end."


Vanquished
Vanquished
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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 months ago

i don't like that you used my name in this. I hold james, stuart(sam) and rachel responsible.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 months ago

the real nathan says hi

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
Another piece of art!

Love all your stories!! This one was another masterpiece!

OneAuthorOneAuthoralmost 4 years ago
Short and sweet

Well, maybe not so sweet for Sammy... but definitely for us readers. :)

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