View Full Version : Suzi

07-10-2011, 10:57 PM
Following is a fictional story that I posted to the original den some 5 years ago now, I guess. Touched it up a bit and figured it was good to Repost. It's long (about 50 WORD pages) and in 3 parts that I will post over the next couple days if you like it. All the usual disclaimers apply...


It had been a year…

I had been alone now for a year, almost to the day, since my girlfriend had died. It had been sudden and unexpected and without pain, thankfully. Nothing to be done, and it had left me feeling hollow and vacant for so long, and depressed. But time heals all wounds they say – which is a crock really – but it does get a little easier, just a little, over time. Life goes on…

I was feeling lonely still, as the anniversary neared. Not for sex, not really, but I needed companionship, or release at the least. I needed to spend some time with a woman, just to talk, maybe to hold, but it had been so long.

There was this woman though. Girl… young woman, younger than me… I dunno; I can’t seem to distinguish age anymore. She talked to me though. She worked in one of the three delis that I frequented in my Manhattan neighborhood; one of the places I bought beer and snacks regularly. She talked to me. She was nice and always tried to strike up a conversation with me when I went into the store. I don’t know if she was just friendly and congenial with everyone, or maybe she liked me. I didn’t remember the signs anymore; it had been so long.

But I was getting urges again. That sign I did know. I was getting desperate…

“Hello,” she said as always when I walked into the deli, flashing me a friendly smile. I responded in kind, heading to the rear of the store for my nightly six-pack of Old English. I had started drinking and smoking more heavily when my girlfriend passed, and I had yet to try to cut back. I was probably well on the way to AA, but as yet I had not admitted that I had a problem. Two packs of cigarettes and a six pack of malt a day – at least. What do you think?

She had a bag waiting when I got back to the counter with my beer, and a bag of chips for good measure. What the heck, I could splurge once in awhile. She smiled widely, saying nothing of my bad, nightly habit as she held open the bag and I slipped the cold and heavy six-pack within.

“How are you?” she asked, ringing up my groceries. She was Korean I figured, as was the deli, just a tiny bit plump but small otherwise with a nice figure. I towered over her by more than a foot as I stood six-foot-seven, and she was standing on a raised platform behind the register. I figured she was maybe five-foot-five, with below shoulder length jet-black hair and wide almond shaped brown eyes. She was cute, and talkative, and as she grinned at me I could not help but smile back. “Off for the weekend?”

“Yeah,” I answered, licking my lips and immediately tongue-tied. I found it hard to talk to her – to any woman that I found even mildly attractive anymore. Always had actually. I pulled my wallet from my back pocket, thumbing through the bills not really watching as she rang up my purchase.

“Any plans for the long weekend?”

I shrugged. I had more or less ignored the fact that it was the long Columbus Day weekend, and I had three days off from my job. I had figured to sit around the apartment and get on the computer for some one-handed surfing. If I got really extravagant, I might order Dominoes.

“Not really,” I replied, skipping over the sad details.

“Me neither,” she said with a grin. “I get off tonight at seven, then back here tomorrow at nine.” She shrugged. “Work, work, work…”

“You and me both,” I agreed, handing her a ten spot. “Guess you’re heading home after work? You have a son right?”

“Yeah, but he’s in bed before I get home. He’s not two yet. My mother watches him while I’m here. I go home, eat, a little TV then off to bed.”

“What about your husband?”

She shrugged, frowning. “Back in Korea. He was drafted; had to do his service. He won’t be back for two years.” She seemed sad for a moment, then shrugged again. “It’s hard, but life goes on, right?” So they say.

She handed me my change, her hand slipping sideways and rubbing along my palm overly long. I looked at her and saw her grinning again slightly. Was she flirting? “How about you? Any plans for big Friday night?”

“Not really,” I confessed. My life was pretty boring. “Dinner, TV,” I held up the bag with the beer, “maybe get drunk.”

“Sounds fun to me.” She giggled, looking at me and cocking her head slightly. Was she waiting? “Been awhile since I got drunk,” she added.

“You… You’re welcome to stop in if you like.” Did I just say that? “I just live a block or so away.”

“Really?” she asked, cocking her head to one side to reveal a silver pair of hoop earrings. “I don’t want to impose, y’know. If you have plans? That would be nice though. Nice change.”

God I loved her accent. “Not a problem. Love to have the company, really. My friends used to come by more, after my girlfriend… y’know…”

“I do. My friends did the same. Now it’s just Mom, baby and me it seems most nights. It’d be nice to get out. Have a little fun…”

She gave me a sly smile and I actually blushed. I could not believe I had a date – such as it was. “Lemme get some more beer then, and… anything else?”

She laughed. “I’ll bring some stuff,” she said. “I run things here. Employee discount.” She laughed again, and I had to smile, laughing with her. I gave her my address and phone number.

I headed out of the store with my beer, the world swimming around me. I was walking on air that I had made a date of sorts. Granted, it would be me and… Jesus, I didn’t even know her name. It would be me and the cute ‘deli girl’ then, just hanging out in my apartment and watching TV, but it was a start.

I could not imagine what we would talk about, or do. I would have to look through my DVD’s, check the TV Guide. What music did she like? Jesus…

It had been so long…

By quarter after seven I figured that she was not going to show. Why would she after all? I was nothing special; tall and lanky and not handsome enough for her. She was definitely out of my league. Besides, she was married and had a kid.

If nothing else, it spurred me to clean the apartment. Over the past year, little by little I had cleared out most of my girlfriend’s things, so there was a little more room. I had kept some of her clothes and jewelry; momentoes, CDs, cards, whatever really reminded me of her. The apartment was a typical Manhattan studio though; small and functional with a kitchenette and bathroom, a small closet and long hallway. We had had little by way of furniture; two single stacked beds that we let up and down every night, two folding chairs, dressers, a desk, computer, etc. It was tight, but just right for the two of us. Now it seemed huge and empty with her things that I kept mostly in the closet.

I jumped when the door buzzer rang and a leapt to my feet. I was on my second beer, and I had not eaten yet, on the off chance that she might want to go out for a bite, or order in at the least. It was Friday after all. I ran to the hall, two quick steps for me, and to the intercom –

“Who?” I said, pushing the buttons to speak and hear.

“Suzi,” a staticky voice replied, then, “From ‘OK Deli’.”

Suzi… “C’mon up!” I quickly buzzed her in before either of us could change our minds.

I licked my lips and raked my fingers back through my short hair as I went to the door. I unlocked the three locks and opened the door a crack, looking out. I heard her soft footfalls on the stairs, coming up to my second floor apartment, and a second later she rounded the corner of the landing and smiled up to see me waiting. My heart skipped a beat, right before it melted.

She was still dressed as she had been at work, in faded blue jeans, a baby blue shell top and was wearing a dark hoody over that against the brisk October chill. I glanced at her pretty face, then as usual my gaze drifted to her feet as she topped the steps. She was wearing a dirty and well-worn pair of white leather Nikes; the same ones that she always seemed to wear to work. I bit my lip, watching as she approached and trying to refocus my attention on her face.

“Hi, Kirk… Right?” she asked. I had only told her my name once, but she cared enough to remember.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “And you’re Suzi? That’s pretty. I didn’t know. Forgot to even ask, I was so excited.”

“Excited?” she asked looking at me with a wide grin.

“Well, yeah,” I said, blushing a bit. “It’s been awhile since I was on a date, or even had a woman over that… well… y’know?”

She smiled, nodding in understanding. “Yeah.” There was a moment’s silence. “Can I come in?” she finally asked, and I blushed again, taking the grocery bag she had brought. It was heavy, and a peek inside showed another six-pack of Old Gold, and two forties. Was she going to get me drunk and have her way with me? I smirked, hopefully.

Suzi looked about as I stepped aside and held the door open for her. She brushed past and dropped her big leather purse near the door, glancing at the bookshelf in the hall as she made her way into the main room of the studio. I had been off on her height, misjudging the rise that she stood on behind the counter. She was maybe five-three if that. “Nice,” she said, nodding as she stood in place, then turned in a circle to take it all in, such as it was. Really there was not much to look at, but she seemed pleased when I locked the door and stepped into the room to join her. It was a studio in Chelsea; small but in one of the prime Manhattan spots, so impressive just for that.

“You live alone now?” she asked. “No roommates?”

“No,” I replied. I had thought about it, but it just did not seem right. This was our place – my girlfriend and me – our home, and I wanted to try to make it on my own now, if not with her. “No, just me now…”

She smiled slightly, nodding in understanding, looking around as I put the beer into the small refrigerator in the kitchenette.

“Sit!” I said, indicating a chair for her, one of the two. “Please…”

Suzi sat, somewhat straight-backed and primly, though she crossed her legs, right over left after a minute. She seemed more comfortable with all of this than I was. She grinned again, glancing at the TV. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the television. I stepped over to see –

I had had the TV on, but really hadn’t been watching. There was a movie on IFC I saw, ‘Shallow Grave’ by the look of it, I had seen it before. I named it, then explained when she asked what it was about; three flat mates that take in a fourth who had Mob money, and the hell they go through trying to keep it and dispose of the body, after the guy dies. “Want a beer?” I asked.

“That Ghetto stuff you drink?” she asked, wrinkling her nose and swinging her leg. “Maybe one. Never tried it before,” she said.

I popped her a beer, then poured it into a glass, remembering my manners. She took it with a nod, sipped it slightly and wrinkled her nose again, sticking out her tongue.

“How can you drink this? Strong and bitter?” she asked, staring at the foaming glass. I shrugged.

“An acquired taste I guess.”

She looked at the beer and took another sip as I popped another can for me and sat in the other chair beside her. We settled in to watch the movie, making small talk. I asked about her husband and baby. She asked about my girlfriend. We spoke of our jobs, one thing that we had in common as I worked in a supermarket in Brooklyn. I didn’t want to talk ‘shop’ but that seemed the most common ground. She was fairly smart in the business end of it, I quickly learned. Me, I was more into the grunt end of the job; throwing freight and stocking shelves.

“That’s cool,” she said, and it took me a moment to realize that she was talking about the scene on the TV rather than our mutual line of work. I looked at the television and saw Ewan McGregor flat on his back and kissing the shoe of the leading lady – whatever her name was. I only knew him as he was Obi Wan Kenobi in Star Wars. “I like that kind of attention…”

I looked at Suzi, at a sudden loss for words. I felt suddenly warm and I realized that the radiator had kicked in and was clanking loudly, hissing out heat. She sipped her beer, glancing at me but not wanting to miss the scene on the television. In a brief flicker it was over, the movie moving on.

“Umm…” I said, trying not to stutter, wondering how to respond to what she had just said. I had a definite foot fetish, and had tried to steal glances of her feet and shoes every time I went into the deli, but usually didn’t see much behind the counter. I looked at her shoes now though, her feet, one leg over the other and her crossed leg swinging slightly. The motion abruptly stopped while I was staring, and I looked up, embarrassed.

“My husband used to rub my feet after I got home from work,” she said, frowning slightly with a far away look. I saw her extend her leg, twisting her ankle until it popped. “I miss that.” She looked back at me, looking at her elevated foot.

“I… uhh…”

Jesus! My girlfriend had indulged my foot fetish quite often over the years that we had been together. Usually it was simply me rubbing her feet and stealing kisses and sniffs, but occasionally we would get a bit more into it. She would have me on my hands and knees or belly licking and kissing her feet and shoes, sometimes playing the dominant, and sometimes simply letting me do it while she watched television or was on the computer. A few times she even tied me up, though she was not as into that. She loved the attention, but was always too worried about me when she had me bound and never kept me that way for too long. I on the other hand had loved it, as was always evident from my increased… excitement.

“Would you…” I tried to continue. I licked my lips. Damn, it was hot. “Would you like me to massage your feet?” I finally blurted out and Suzi nodded without a moment’s hesitation.

She whipped her legs up and about, dropping her feet into my lap so quickly that I almost spilled my beer. I took a drink and set it down, then reached for her feet and shoes and laces –

“My shoes are so old and dirty,” she giggled. “Sorry for that. I really need a new pair. Hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” I said, cursing to myself at the waver in my voice. “They’re soft and well-worn. Sexy even. I’ve always like white high tops on girls. You got the look down, definitely.”

“Oh?” she said, twirling her foot a bit and crossing her legs on my lap at the ankles. “You think my SHOES are sexy?” She pulled back just a bit as I grabbed for her laces, ready to untie her shoes.

“Yeah…” I said, after a moment. I felt suddenly embarrassed that I had admitted that to her, and figured that she would run screaming from my apartment, but she just giggled and shifted, getting comfortable.

“My husband used to think that too,” she said, and I swallowed. When I looked up at her face, I saw that her dark eyes were smoldering and riveted on me. “He used to like to lick my shoes clean for me, which is why they’re so dirty now, I guess. It’s been awhile.”

“Oh?” I said, at a sudden loss for words again. My skin felt afire as I sat there stupidly, the laces of her right shoe hanging impotently in my fingers. She slowly raised her leg and positioned her foot so that it was hovering in front of my face.

I stared at the sole of her shoe, looking intensely at the treads in the rubber. They were filthy, and I could see bits of grit caught between the rubber treads that were wearing thin and smooth beneath the ball of her foot, as well as stains from things that she had stepped in over the course of the days. There was a bit of old, worn gum, hard and dry, and a splotch of red near the heel that could have been tomato or ketchup. Too, so close now I could smell the scent of the rubber and the well-worn aged leather, strong and almost aromatic to someone like me. There was a faint body odor as well, just barely contained and suppressed by the smell of the shoe; the scent of her sweaty feet and her socks. I could only imagine how long she had had her shoes on that day. Ten or twelve hours at least.

I was breathing hard by then. My ears seemed to be on fire, I was so flushed, and I could feel my heart racing. I had no spit, and the rest of the world had faded to gray in my peripheral vision, the TV droning from a distance as I stared longingly at her shoe. I almost yelped as it flinched a bit, then eased slowly forward towards my face, stopping again just as it touched the tip of my nose. I could smell the scent of sweet bubble gum where it pressed oh so slightly.

“My shoes are so filthy, and god knows what I’ve been walking around in all day at the store. The floors are so grimy from people walking in off the street all day long. I really should just get a new pair, but I can’t afford it right now. The stipend my husband sends every month just barely helps pay the bills, y’know. It was better when he was here,” she giggled, pressing a bit harder on my nose. “But then, when he was home, he kept my shoes clean for me.”

I was enraptured by then, breathing in the scent of her leather shoes and feet. The foot odor was starting to get stronger, but I did not care, and her soft, soothing voice and accent… It was almost mesmerizing, lulling me. I heard a moan escape my lips as I tentatively eased my tongue out of my mouth, reaching for the sole of her shoe –

Only to have her pull it away, out of reach. I almost toppled from my chair as I looked up at her, shocked and flustered.

“What are you doing?” she asked, an edge suddenly cutting into her sweet voice.

“I – I…” I stuttered, watching as she twisted her legs off of my lap and planted her feet back on the floor. “I thought… that is…” She grinned again, a wicked little thing just curling the corners of her lips.

“You want to lick my shoes?” she asked, cocking her head slightly and letting her raven black hair cascade about her shoulder before just as casually flipping it back over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist. "Is that it? I’ve seen you looking at my feet in the store before. You like my feet… my shoes?”

“Yes…” I whispered. I had thought that we had established that. What was she up to?

“So, you brought me up here to take advantage of me then?” she scolded.

“No…” I whined, watching as she stretched her legs out before her, crossing her ankles again and sipping at her beer. She was eyeing me now, looking me up and down.

“You just wanted my feet? Didn’t care about me at all?” She sounded almost annoyed, a little angry. I didn’t know why. I thought –

“Is that it? You do this with every woman you meet?”


“Oh, so just me. Just my feet, hunh? I’m not good enough for a real date?”

“No! I mean… Yes… I…” I was getting confused. What did she want me to say?

“I should just leave!” she snapped. She drew in her legs, planting her feet flat on the carpeting, bracing to stand, then looked at me. She eyed me slyly, one eyebrow raised, a pouty frown on her lips. “But I won’t…”

She settled back again, folding her arms beneath her soft breasts and staring at me as though examining me, waiting. She looked me up and down again with a little sneer of contempt, and that suddenly shifted into a smirk. “You COULD apologize, y’know.”

“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, my voice catching and Suzi laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Not like that, stupid.” She pointed at her feet.

God she WAS playing with me. I was ready to burst she was so hot, turning me on. I dropped to my knees on the floor before her, immediately melting at her feet onto all fours. I bowed down, easing my face towards her beautiful shoes, half-expecting her to pull back again. She didn’t…

I tentatively planted a light kiss on the toecap of the closest shoe. I expected her to pull back still, but aside from a wiggle of toes beneath the soft leather, nothing happened, except for the thrilling shock that sent a tingle racing through my body. I kissed again, and again, leaning in closer and shifting to my elbows as she left her foot there before me, right under my bobbing, probing face. Satisfied that she would not pull away, I increased the pressure, pressing my lips harder to her soft shoe. I started moving around, lavishing my praise about the top, moving to the sides eventually.

The aroma was overwhelming now, I was so close and so in heat. I could actually feel the warmth of her foot through the worn leather, and the smell, getting stronger by the lick was intoxicating. The scent of the shoe still dominated, but I could almost taste the aroma of her socks and feet now, a musky smell that was not unpleasant. I wondered what they would smell like once free of the damp confines of the shoes, but for the moment I was fixated on the Nikes, and in heaven. It had been so long…

I shifted all the way down onto my belly before too long, and right after that my tongue was out as though it had a mind of its own. Still kissing I was now slavering the leather with spit, and just as swiftly licking it dry again. I pressed hard, dragging my tongue along the wrinkles in the leather, scraping and slurping at the worn in grime, the dust from Manhattan’s filthy streets. It tasted foul, and wonderful, lingering on my tongue even after I swallowed and worked up spit again for another lap.

Suzi kept her feet in place, granting me access, and before long I had my eyes closed I was so into her shoes. I did not know if she was even looking at me, or watching the movie on television. For all I knew she was simply there, oblivious to my attention and relaxing in my apartment, drinking a beer, at least at first.

Her toes wiggled occasionally, pushing at the thin leather, and when they did I aimed for them, licking all the harder, hoping that she would feel it and appreciate the attention. Finally her foot shifted a bit, sliding forward and I heard her voice sounding a little breathy –

“That’s so good,” she said. “Your tongue is SO hot. Harder…” I did as she commanded, redoubling my efforts as she slipped her other foot up under my face. “I have two feet,” she pointed out, the new shoe tapping me up under the chin, maybe a little harder than necessary. “C’mon…” she urged impatiently.

I brought my hands around, gently holding the heel of her shoe and foot, easing her toes closer. I licked long and hard strokes across the top and sides of the new shoe and heard her urging me on again. If anything, the scent of her right foot was even stronger than the left, and as I eased around, craning my neck to get along the edge by the heel I tasted that bit of red I had seen before. Definitely ketchup, and a new wave of disgust washed over my tongue, causing me to moan as the freshly renewed odor mingled with the leather and rubber and sweat. God… In heaven…

I lost track of time there at her feet. It could have been minutes only, or hours, but to me it was blissful forever. I wanted it to go on and on. At some point though, Suzi shifted her feet again, her right floating up and out of sight. She crossed her legs I knew, as I sensed, then actually felt her foot lower to rest lightly on the back of my head. I shivered, licking all the harder on the foot that remained.

There was a flicker of light, shadows flashing about me and I knew that she was flipping through the television channels then. Surely not bored I hoped. I was burning still, hotter than ever, actually sweating now. I did not care a… lick.

“Hold on,” she said after a bit and I felt her foot tapping on my head. To my disappointment she slid the shoe on the floor back a bit as the other snaked down, roughly caressing the side of my face until it was angled with the laces pressing against my nose, the tongue tickling my forehead. I felt the toe pressing on my chin, hooking under to raise my head up.

I looked up to see her smiling wickedly down at me, and then giggling as she took in my face. I could imagine how I must look, flushed and filthy from the grime of her shoe. She shook her head, then rotated her foot casually, pressing the sole right against my face with enough pressure to flatten my nose.

“Lick the sole, boy,” she ordered, and without hesitation I stuck out my tongue again and started in. She eased off the pressure a bit to allow me better access, shifting a bit in the chair, then went back to flipping through the TV channels.

If the sides of her shoe were filthy, the sole was disgusting. Every lick of my tongue came away black with grit and grime and foul tasting. I actually gagged a bit as I worked at the ketchup stain, rubbing to get it off, smelling the decayed flavor that came off it. After awhile I could see though the rubbery color of the sole peeking through the black, and I was proud almost that I was doing a good job.

“Scrape off that gum,” she said almost casually, pressing in again as my tongue went over the mashed wad. Again the taste welled up on my tongue; a sweet and sickly bitterness laced with dust and grit. I angled my head a bit and started to scrape at the gum with my teeth. I could feel the hard bits flaking off and tiny pieces of gravel ground against my teeth. I moved to spit, but she HAD been paying attention and told me to swallow. I did, gagging, trying not to think of what was laced into the gummy wad, or who might have been chewing it.

I eventually got it all, and the rubber sole was almost bright like new, except for the obvious wear and tear. Maybe she sensed that I was almost done, or maybe she just needed to stretch, but she pulled her foot back and slipped it back to the floor under my face. I stared at it, about to start licking again when she interrupted me –

“Take it off,” she commanded, “and use your teeth.”

Almost with a whimper at the new twist I leaned in and bit down on the closest end of lace. I tugged, rearing back some until I felt the first bow sliding free. I then leaned even closer and started biting at the initial knot, pulling it apart with a little more effort. She offered no help at all as I tugged on the crossed laces, easing slack into the eyeholes to loosen the shoe from her foot.

With each fresh tug of course, the scent of her foot wafted up at me, worse and worse. What was only a little offensive before slowly grew to a sweaty odor that assaulted my senses. The leather and rubber had been disguising her foot odor, but now I was smelling more the perspiration soaked into the white sock and the insides of the shoe. It was not foul, but definitely strong, a mild scent of body odor. And I was so close, my lips on the shoe that I could do nothing but inhale and let it wash over me.

It got to a point however, that I could go no further. The shoe was open as far as I could get it, laces wide and radiating her foot smell into my face. I opened my mouth to let Suzi know that I was stumped, but before I could speak her foot rose up again and I felt the heel thump the back of my head.

“Hold still,” she said distractedly and I felt the heel dig in as she pulled her leg up and back. She ground in harder, and a moment later I heard a telltale sound of the shoe ‘shishing’ off of her heel, and then off of her foot. The shoe tumbled down to the floor, right by my head and I moaned, suddenly overwhelmed by the strong, pungent smell rising from the dark depths of her leather Nike.

I wrinkled my nose at the suddenly harsh smell that hit me. It WAS foul, and I could not even begin to understand how it could be so bad. I gasped, quickly sucking in and holding my breath, which was a mistake.

“Problem?” Suzi asked sweetly. “Not the bed of roses you were hoping for, hunh?” she giggled. “Well, the insides just as dirty as the outside, so why don’t you just get your face down in there and lick the insides clean for me.”

I must have hesitated, because her socked foot pressed down onto the back of my head, forcing my face into the confines of her shoe. I closed my eyes, holding my breath as long as I could as I felt the sides of her sneaker brushing against my cheeks. My nose pressed down against the damp insole, and still she kept mashing down. I finally had to gasp for breath again, and I groaned as I inhaled the rank, musty smell. I heard her laugh outloud at that.

“C’mon,” she urged, bouncing her foot a bit. “Lick! Lick and sniff, boy. I wanna hear it.”

I did as she commanded, slowly at first. The taste of her insole was horrible, the rubber foul and ragged against my tongue. Slowly though I got more courageous, my tentative laps becoming longer. I steeled myself and started breathing as regularly as I could, deeper and deeper breaths as the rank smell soaked into me. It was not getting less, and I doubted anything would ever make it disappear, but I got used to it, slowly and forcibly. I HAD wanted this after all, craved it even, and I did not want to disappoint Suzi.

After a time I felt the pressure on the back of my head disappear, and I sensed her getting up. I opened my eyes, keeping my face buried in the shoe and caught her stepping away towards the refrigerator in my peripheral vision. I heard the clank of the glass she had been using as she set it in the sink, then opened the door on the fridge. A second later I heard the ‘sish-pop’ of another can of beer opening.

“I can’t hear you,” she said, and I started snuffling in her sneaker again, licking all the harder. She giggled. “Good boy.”

I sensed her walking about my apartment then, ignoring me as I labored at her shoe. I heard her opening the drawers of my dresser after a bit and I trembled, a little shock of fear racing down my spine. There were things hidden within definitely not meant for a first date. I sagged when I heard her chuckling, followed by a jangling of metal –

“How kinky,” she snickered, and I did not have to look to know that she had found my handcuffs. I had bought them years before, a toy for my girlfriend and I to use, but they had sat unattended and mostly forgotten in my sock drawer for the last couple of years. I heard Suzi toss them onto the bed as she continued to dig through my meager stash of cotton and nylon ropes and bits of leather cord.

Eventually she moved on from my dresser and into the hall. I heard the closet door open and knew that she was looking through my things in there, as well as my girlfriend’s that I had kept. That annoyed me, and I almost got to my feet then and there, almost told her to stop. That was too personal and private; my memories. I almost –

I heard the closet door close and then the soft footfalls as she returned to the room I was in. I could sense her looking down on me as I continued sniffing and licking the filthy insides of her Nike. I wanted to look, but I did not want her to see me looking, so imagined her smiling down at me, watching, sipping at her beer looking beautiful… dominant…

“I had a dog when I was little,” she started and I flinched, she had been quiet so long. I opened my eyes and glanced to the left. I could see her feet out of the corner of my eye, her socked foot nearest my head, and the sneaker clad foot angled a bit behind. She wiggled her toes for me as she continued, “He liked to play with my shoes just like you, and chew on my smelly slippers. You remind me of him down there, with your face in my shoe,” she said with a giggle.

“Of course, he just wore a collar. Take off your clothes.”

I raised my head from her shoe and looked up at her. She was staring at me expectantly, drinking from the beer can she held, waiting for me to comply. I drew my arms back, starting to rise –

“I didn’t say get up. You can undress there. Worm around a bit.”

It was a little difficult, but she was right of course. She offered no help either as she just stood, watching as I pulled my shirt off, then unbuckled my pants. I had to shift a bit to get my shoes off, then snaked off my jeans, and pulled off my socks. I was quickly down to my briefs and looked to her again. She just grinned.


I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and slid them down my legs to the point where I could kick them off and lie there again on my back, at her feet. Her eyes drifted to my member of course, taking it in at attention and dripping. She shook her head in amusement.

“Boy, you are loving this aren’t you. My nasty shoes not as bad as you made out, hunh?” Without warning she took a step forward and placed her sneaker on my stomach, rubbing it as though she were wiping it on a door mat. The rubber sole grabbed with friction as she rubbed, and soon her foot was drifting down towards my legs. She thumped my woody with the toe of her shoe and laughed.

“Is that for me, boy. Puppy got a bone for mommy?” I grinned at her little joke, and she just laughed, moving to sit back in her chair.

She placed a foot on either side of my head, and just as quickly raised her Nike up to plant it on my forehead. She twisted her foot from side to side as though crushing out a cigarette, then I felt her settle back and her socked foot stretched out above me and rested on my belly.

“You know what to do,” she said, and I did. I started licking the sole of her shoe.

She kept me there for a time, occasionally shifting her feet for her comfort I’m sure, rather than mine. She kept her sneaker on my face, but her socked foot roamed around my stomach and chest now and then. She would drag it back and forth, then shift about and scratch with her toenails. At one point she started playing with my nipples, plucking and grabbing them through the cottony material, pulling when she could get a good grip and making me hotter and hotter. I showed my appreciation by licking all the harder, grunting and snuffling from my efforts.

She turned the television to what I assumed to be one of the foreign cable channels as I heard what sounded to be the news in Korean I suspected. Suzi watched that for awhile, commenting now and then, slipping in and out of her second – or first language. She mentioned something about the weather, and commented near the end, when the channel shifted to a Home Shopping Network for the night that she wished she had cable and could get the channel.

At that point she got up again, mashing down onto my face with her shoe before stepping back to the floor. I moaned as it had actually hurt that time as she scraped the side of my face. She didn’t apologize however and simply stepped to the refrigerator and exchanged an empty beer can for her third full one. She did not even seem the slightest buzzed either I noted, just maybe a little less inhibited. Not that she had been at all. Myself, I was drunk on the taste and smell of her feet, shoes and socks.

I did take advantage of the break to lick my lips and work my jaw. My whole mouth felt chapped, and my tongue was sore from so much licking, but it was a good pain. I glanced at the clock, figuring that we had been at it for hours, but it was only a little past ten. Not even three hours yet since she first arrived, just a cute girl from the deli over for a beer. How things had changed.

“It’s getting late,” she said, popping the beer top anyway and taking a drink. “Momma will be wondering what you did to me,” she said with a grin. “Don’t think I didn’t tell her where I’d be. You’re nice in the store, but for all I knew you’d turn out to be a serial killer…” she smirked, “or a sex pervert.” She chuckled at that.

“Still,” she went on, “we have time for a little more fun. Roll over, puppy,” she said, giggling as she stepped past me. “Good boy,” she cooed as I complied.

Once on my belly she stepped back and over me, a foot planted on either side of my body. I wondered what might be coming next, thinking maybe she was going to step up onto me for a bit of trampling. Instead I felt her grab my right wrist and yank it up. I yelped as the cold, hard steel of my handcuffs slammed down, ratcheting tightly about my wrist. I started to protest, but she simply shushed me and grabbed my other arm, wrapping the other cuff about that one.

“I know you like this,” she said, tugging on the short chain between my arms. “Why else would you have this stuff, hunh?” And she was right of course. I bit off my complaint as she pulled on the chain.

“Up!” she commanded, tugging as I struggled to get first to my knees, then to my bare feet. It was the first time in several hours that I had been up and off of the floor, and as I looked to the bed I saw that she had my whole meager collection of ropes coiled there, along with a thick roll of silvery duct tape that she must have taken from the book shelf in the hallway.

“Sit!” she ordered, turning me about and actually shoving me so that I plopped down in my chair. “Good doggy,” she snickered as she reached for one of the shorter pieces of rope from the pile on the bed.

She had moved my chair out from against the bed where it normally sat, and had angled it a bit and now she pressed right up on me as she squeezed behind me. I could feel her warmth as her blue jeans pressed and rubbed against my bare arm. I could smell her now, rather than her feet, and it was a pleasant change; sweet like lilacs, and just as intoxicating.

She squatted down beside the chair and I felt her hands wrapping and knotting the rope to the chain between my wrists. Once satisfied, after a couple sharp tugs, she drew the rope down and taut and tied it off to the cross bar on the back legs of the chair. She had drawn it tight, forcing me to arch back a bit until she had removed the slack to what she wanted. I glanced back and saw her smiling at me, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief as she reached back for one of the leather cords. This she looped about my right arm, just above the elbow, then drew it tight to loop about the left. Suzi pulled tight, drawing my elbows closer together until I winced, gritting my teeth and hissing air at the tight pain. She tugged a bit more, then knotted off the cord. “Good boy,” she said, patting my cheek as she stood and stepped around in front of me.

She squatted again, this time with two bits of leather and grabbed and tied first one ankle and then the other to the back legs of the metal, folding chair. I was old, mind, and my body did not always bend properly anymore. It merely hurt at first, but as she stood I could feel my muscles already starting to protest the angle of my legs. In effect I was almost hog-tied about the chair, and I was already starting to feel the strain. I hoped that whatever she was planning would not last too long.

She added a final long rope about my chest and arms, wrapping and twisting and intertwining it in and out and around. As she tightened the slack with every turn I felt my body starting to adhere to the chair, pinning me finally and securely. After she fixed the tail of the nylon rope to the chair she stepped back and grabbed her beer from the small table beside me, then paused to take in her handiwork.

“Comfy, puppy?” she asked, watching as I strained at my bonds. She knew her knots I knew immediately, as there was no give whatsoever, and not a bit of slack. I could barely move, and I could feel my leg muscles starting to cramp.

“It’ll start hurting, but I’ll be okay for awhile I guess.”

Without warning she stepped forward and raised her Nike clad foot, planting it on the chair between my wide-stretched legs and down hard on my groin. I screamed.

“How about now?” she asked, but I obviously ignored her. Luckily I was hanging over the edge or she would have crushed my testicles. As it was I was gasping for breath and in so much pain that I thought I was going to black out. She just laughed and leaned in, shifting her weight onto my groin. I screamed again.

“Bark for me puppy,” she whispered, and I barely heard her, but she was all I heard as well. She was the center of my existence right then and there. I whined and whimpered, gasping for breath and squirming under her foot, but it was all response. I could not concentrate to bark.

“C’mon, boy…” she cooed, grinding down and resting her arm on her upraised knee. “Speak!”




“Louder, boy. C’mon! Speak for mommy.”

“RUFF!” I shouted, and the pain subsided.

I sagged in my chair, in my bonds, hanging my head and gasping for breath. I was crying openly, hoping that I was whole and begging god in my head to end this. What had I been thinking? I strained feebly at my bonds again, but I was going nowhere.

I opened my eyes and looked up through tears as I felt her cool fingers playing between my legs. I stared and saw that she had her discarded sneaker in hand and was wrapping the laces tightly about my cock and balls. She just kept looping and knotting, time after time and I quickly felt the constriction as my staff betrayed me and started to swell again at her touch. When she was finally satisfied she just laughed and let the shoe drop, sending a new wave of pain through my already abused member.

I hissed, gritting my teeth as her Nike swung and bobbed between my legs. She meanwhile had sat back in her chair and was undoing the laces of the other shoe. That one had not been off yet, or even loosened, so I imagined that it would be just as ripe as the first had been, and I was right.

We both grimaced as the scent of her feet swept up. “Oooo,” she whistled as she quickly rolled down her socks and balled them up into a single wad. She stood then, reaching for the roll of duct tape. My eyes went wide, suspecting what was about to happen and stupidly I opened my mouth to protest.

Suzi rammed the ball of sock into my mouth, shoving it in as far as she could with her finger until I was gagging. She then just as swiftly thrust her shoe over my face, covering my mouth and nose and holding it there for a moment, longer, until I was forced to breathe again. I had tried to hold my breath at the last moment, but I did not outlast her and soon I was breathing in the rank and sweaty smell of her sneaker. It was as horrible as the other, and I thought I might pass out at first as my head started to swim. I tried to pull away, to turn my face aside just for a fresh breath of air, but Suzi had leverage and simply leaned in, holding the foul smelling shoe firmly in place.

“That’s right, puppy,” she said when I finally quit struggling and started sniffing deeply her foot aroma. “Suck it up.” I just wanted it to be over then. It had been the longest and most intense foot worship, and now bondage session that I had ever endured, and I just wanted her to go. The cute girl had turned into a cruel tormentress, and I was done. I had learned that my little fetish was not a lifestyle. At least not yet.

I heard the sound of the duct tape being torn from the roll and my eyes popped open. I saw that Suzi had ripped a long strip from the thick roll with her teeth, and as I moaned into the shoe I saw her easing it forward. She pressed the end to the sole of the shoe, then started to wrap the tape around and around both the sneaker and my head. She paid no mind of my hair, turning the tape round and round, each wrap pressing her shoe more firmly in place over my mouth and nose. She must have made twenty turns before she wiggled the shoe to see how fixed it was, then ripped the tape off and smoothed it down. I moaned into the shoe, but gagged by her socks filling my mouth, which was blocked by the all-encompassing sneaker, little noise escaped.

I was crying again at that point, both by what was happening and the reek of her sneaker that was my world. It was foul, and I felt my head starting to spin from the rank odor. Suzi laughed and patted my face.

“Stay with me puppy,” she said before padding off and away in bare feet. I watched through my teary eyes, wondering what she was up to next.

She strode into the hall and bent at the waist, giving me a nice view of her blue jean covered rump, then pranced happily back into my room. I saw that she was carrying my girlfriend’s cowboy boots that I had kept in memory in one hand, and a pair of my long white tube socks in the other. She stared at me as she plopped back into her chair and crossed her legs. She made a show of angling her foot and pointing her pretty, purple painted toes as she slipped first into the socks, and then the well-worn boots.

“I always wanted a pair of cowboy boots,” she commented, giving each a final tug before standing, then posing as she cocked her feet from side to side. “A perfect fit,” she said as she grabbed her beer again. She took a last swallow, then stepped to the sink again.

I watched as she washed her glass and then dropped the empty beer cans into the recycle bag. She turned and nodded as she looked about the apartment, then stooped and started to gather my clothes before disappearing into my bathroom and closing the door. After a few minutes I heard the toilet flush.

The door opened again and she stepped out. I saw that she was clipping the long chain that held my key ring to her belt loop. I shivered as she slipped my keys into her pocket, then simply strolled past my bound form with my wallet in hand. I moaned, realizing that I stupidly had all my credit cards in the wallet, along with all the PIN numbers written on the back of a business card, which I’m sure that she had discovered. I had been watching my finances since my girlfriend had died, and I had paid off most of my credit card bills – all four cards. I had been in debt for many years, and was just starting to come out of it when my girlfriend had died. Doing a quick calculation in my head, I figured that Suzi could, over the course of a few days, wrack up almost a hundred thousand dollars off of my four Master Cards and my Citibank account that had almost ten thousand in it yet. All in my name, from ATM’s. God I was screwed if she wanted to twist, and it looked as though she did.

She went into the hallway and grabbed her purse, and when she came back into my room I saw her make a show of dropping my wallet into her leather bag. She grinned, watching as I thrashed about in my bondage, quickly becoming winded and weak as the scent of her feet overwhelmed me again. I sagged, breathing hard and finally looked up at her again. She smiled and plucked something from the bed.

“Can’t forget these,” she said, dangling the two keys to the handcuffs before my face, making them jangle and chime before she dropped them into her purse as well, then zipped up the opening and folded the flap. She shouldered the bag and took a final long look, turning fully in a circle to make certain that she had forgotten nothing. Then she turned to me again.

“It’s been fun, puppy,” she said with a giggle. She leaned in and each hand grabbed an exposed nipple between thumb and forefinger. She laughed as she squeezed and twisted, making me writhe in agony and sucking in great lungfuls of the sweaty, stinky air of her shoe. The other bobbed as I thrashed in my bonds. Finally she released me and I sagged, whimpering.

“Maybe I’ll stop by and throw you a bone tomorrow,” she mused, glancing at the TV. She grabbed the remote, turning up the volume, making the hostess of the shopping channel shriek before tossing the remote back on the bed. She patted my head then, like I was a dog. “Maybe I’ll even let you lick these cool boots clean, puppy. I wonder if you’ll dream of me or your girlfriend then?”

She slapped me.

“Better be me, puppy.”

She turned on her heel then and stalked from the room. I watched her go, opening the door and turning out the hall light. She left the one in my room on, with the television blaring. The door slammed shut and I heard the locks sliding into place. I even heard her heels as she clacked down the stairs, fading with distance…

I screamed, a muted, pathetic noise that was soaked up by the filthy socks in my mouth and the show covering my face. I thrashed about in my bonds, straining and struggling at the metal, rope and leather that held me tightly to the chair. I writhed and flexed, but did nothing other than weaken myself and force my breath to come in long, smell-filled gasps. I was trapped, bound and gagged and screwed royally.

By now I imagined that Suzi was at Citibank just an avenue away and emptying as much as she could from my various cards. She would go home in style tonight, probably hailing a cab to god knows where. And wouldn’t her mother be happy to see the wad of bills that she rolled me for?



I sagged in my bonds, sucking in Suzi’s sweaty foot odor.

I moaned as my arms and legs started to twitch and ache.

I glanced at the TV. There was a sexy blonde woman dressed in a black skirt and gray blouse holding up a short leather ankle boot trying to convince me how cool and comfortable and cheap it was, able to buy in four quick and easy payments of twenty dollars, give or take. Shipping and handling free if I acted now.

I started to cry.

It was going to be a long night…


09-10-2011, 05:58 PM
great story!! I'd like to read the rest please!

09-10-2011, 06:37 PM
Nice story thanks for posting it

10-10-2011, 10:51 AM
more please!!!!!!!!!!!! :O

10-10-2011, 11:49 AM
Fantastic story! Please post the next part soon!

10-10-2011, 02:40 PM
Nice one.. thanks.. :)

10-10-2011, 03:34 PM
Tried several times to post the next part this morning but it keeps getting cut off. I'll try again later. Thanks all for the kind words.