This choice: gym shoes no socks (foot fetish) • Go Back...Chapter #3gym shoes no socks (foot fetish) by: Gerbil54378   Getting Ms. Braunson to even consider helping you with this whole grade thing for college was going to be rough. While being a generally flexible person, she could definitely have her off days. You were just hoping that today wasn't one of those days as you approached her open door at the top of the staircase. She was deep into work, her head almost pressed against her desk as she quickly wrote something or another. You gulped, and rapped your knuckles against the blue metal frame of the double doors. Before you could even get a word out to ask for an invitation in, her blond hair was flipped back, and she was scrutinizing you from behind her glasses. Her grip gently lost the pen she just been writing with before smothering it, along with what she was writing, beneath her hand.
"Hello, what seems to be the issue today?" You started to say something or another to explain yourself, but she caught on to your situation before you could. "It wouldn't be your grades now would it? We both know you had plenty, and I mean plenty, of opportunities for extra credit throughout the whole year. What makes you think I'm going to give it to you now?" You just stood there, now stumbling over yourself for words. She swung herself around to fully face you in an exasperated flurry, hands out in a "what gives" gesture. You noticed beneath the professional shirt and loose, flowy pants, she was wearing junk sneakers without socks. It was weird but it didn't stop you from stuttering in your attempts to give a really good reason as to why she should bump your grade. She just sighed and invited you in regardless. "Well, it's going to be a really tough sell, as I offered plenty of extra credit mister, but I think we can figure something up, no? Come in and take a seat, don't forget to close the door behind you. The last kid left it open." You pulled the door in as you ventured into the band room, and it clicked shut behind you.
As you found yourself a place to sit somewhere near her desk, as the seats were haphazardly strewn about the room, she started to speak again. Ms. Braunson started thumbing through a file cabinet, continuing to speak about just what to do. "So, tell me. How badly do you need this? Be honest, I'm strict but not inflexible."
You sat up straight, even though she wasn't looking at you at the moment. "Oh Ms. Braunson, this is the one class I need to get a B in to get accepted into college. Please, I really need at least a B."
She almost hit her head on desk, she shot up so quickly, as you both knew you currently stood at about an F. "Are you kidding me? I thought you came in here to beg for at least a passing D or an extremely low C. You need a B?? Follow me." She shook her head with some severe disappointment and walked away, disappearing behind a hallway leading to her office. Now tinged with some shame, you quickly got up, hot on her heels. She stopped next to an extremely small room just adjacent to her office, but hidden enough so that no one would or could see you two. "It's my personal recording room, double sound proofed just so that I can get an extra bit of quiet from my students." She laughed and motioned you in. "What I'm about to do to save your hide is going to risk mine, so I want this strictly between us. No other ears. No going back once you step in though."
Understanding, you obliged and more than happily stepped in. "Hey Ms. Braunson, I'm super appreciat.."
"No, not until this door is closed. Here, sit." She quickly stepped in and sealed the door, putting you in a locked room within a locked room. "Now, you understand how deep into it you are right? Bumping a F to a B is a herculean task, and I'm going to need your full cooperation if you want me happy enough to even consider me risking it alright?" You nodded and she grinned, almost clapped in joy, but controlled herself at the last minute. She sat down on a bench across from you, crossing her legs as she sat down. From there, she brought one shoe up, teasing it off.
"Now, you're going to effectively live here, with me, doing whatever I say until school is over in a couple months," She glanced up as her shoe made a final slide off her naked toes, to ensure you understood. "Now, it's been a very long day, and my feet are killing me. You wouldn't understand just how miraculous you're going to feel against these exhausted soles." She scrunched her soles, briefly examined them, then brought them up upon your lap to service. You gulped, the entire situation crashing down upon you quite suddenly as the very small room quickly filled with a sharp, vinegary smell. She was essentially holding your college career hostage behind almost a year of slavery. You opened your mouth to voice your concerns, but closed it again when thought about how easy this was compared to what you were going to get out of this. This was, after all, very generous of your teacher, so you grabbed a foot with each hand and started to knead her lightly callused feet.
Ms. Braunson, after watching the stormy indecision sweep across your face and watching desperation win, knowingly grinned as she sat back for you to do your work.
"A little lower, yeah, yeah mmmm. I think we've reached the perfect win win situation here, don't you think? Oh, yes push harder there, really dig in right above the heel there." She closed her eyes, very content with her new circumstances, and crossed her arms behind her head. The smell, however, was starting to get to you in this glorified and unventilated closet. Although your boss seemed unaffected, it was dizzying. You didn't think such an incredibly offensive odor could come from feet, and as you took a longer look at the ones in your hand, they worse they looked. The edges were bright red with irritation from being bare in her gym shoes all day, and the soles were covered in a light layer of calluses, with feint wrinkles making sporadic appearances throughout. Her toenails were painted black, and eagerly curled and swayed, grabbing at your hands. In your investigation, you started to falter in speed and efficiency due a growing sense of disgust, even accidentally dropping her seemingly ever damp foot.
You looked up for a brief moment to see Ms. Braunson staring daggers at you. "What? What's the issue? I see that look on your face. I know I put a lot of work into these, but god be damned before I let someone disrespect them!" She retracted both of her feet and sat up straight. It was now coming apparent that you just sent her into one of her legendary moods, and with a space this confined, it couldn't be good. She almost got fired last year for flipping out on one kid with a chair. You retreat yourself into the corner of the bench, but she quickly concealed her fury, instead sitting back herself.
"Lay down, I'll do my own foot massage." Confused at her sudden, uncharacteristic calmness, you did what she asked. Grabbing the edge of the seat and pushing yourself off, you tried to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the rough-ish grey carpet. Just as you gently pushed her foul shoes into the far nook of the room near your feet, she scooted over to where your head was and danced her own up your chest. "Now now, we both know I said when you step into this room, there's no backing out. Besides, there's two locks between us and the free world. You're mine you silly silly boy. Now stay still, I don't want this disciplining to be any worse than it has to be for you. You'll earn the privilege to use your hands again soon enough, don't you worry."
Again, she gave that wickedly kind smile and teased one foot high in the air before bringing it down hard into a smothering position on your cheek and nose. Instinctively, you squirmed your face away shortly after impact, but she had some hidden strength. Like an iron vice, her one foot held you in a foul smelling pin while the other one rested on your neck, a dare to continue your struggle. "Sniff, dear, sniff it deeply before I get any angrier at your pretty little face." She pulled your face in with a slap of the foot, before resetting it so that it sat comfortably under your nose. Resentfully, you complied, offering deep sniffs to appease her and get it over with quickly. If it was dizzying before, it was mind melting now. The salty drips of sweat that formed on your nasal bridge before travelling onto your lips were just small examples of how devastating the scent of your master's feet were. Her actual foot was a nightmare, angrily grasping and sometimes shaking you while she day dreamed about what else she could have you do this year.
It wasn't long before she allowed you to at least up where you lied as she explained your situation a little more thoroughly. "Now I'm going to lock you in here tonight, with your arms strapped and your nose sniffing the smell out of my shoes, but this is going to be a great few months for you to make up your credits huh?" She giggled at your shock about what exactly you were tasked with tonight, but she just opened a false door in the wall, revealing enough restraints to hold down an elephant. "Cmon, let me get you going as I explain what you're going to help with." As helpful as you could be while still being increasingly very against what was going on, you let her do what she wanted. It wasn't long before you had both arms tied and double cuffed in a prayer behind you, your legs had become one with a support to the bench, and your face was very securely embedded in her shoe. As you lied there in agony sucking quite deadly fumes from her destroyed shoes, she giddily listed off your tasks and chores for these months, mainly   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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