Somehow, above your broken whimpering and Sam’s earnest harassing, the sound of Katelyn howling with laughter won out. “That’s good, that’s really too good. He is really getting what he deserves. Say, Sam, how about you keep him for awhile? Break him in and toss him back, see if he behaves better after a week buried under the basketball team’s dirty laundry?”
Sam stared at you with her big brown, dumb eyes, chuckling as she grabbed you through the sheets. “Haha yeah. We always love fresh meat in the locker room. Course, I’m gonna have to take this little punk back to my place first. He’s still got some spirit in em.”
You began to scream, begging. “Katelyn, no please! I’ll do anything, I swear! I’ll kiss your feet all you want! Anything but this troll!” All she did was a mock gasp before Sam punched you square in the face with her meaty knuckles. You saw stars for a moment before she threw you off, jumping off after you, planting her massive feet on your stomach. You cried out in agony, tears streaming down your face, pleading for her to get off before she killed you, only to be awarded with a swift kick to the face with a sickly yellow sole. Sam jumped off, grabbing one end of the blanket cocoon, and dragging you down the stairs after a rough “thank you” to your once best friend.
Cursing at you to shut your whining trap as she got you outside, she tossed you in the back of her beater car before throwing her sweat soaked and stained gym bag on top of you, and speeding off towards her shack at the edge of town. “You little twerp, you belong to me now, so you better knock it off with these outbursts. You will not embarrass me, do you understand? Now sniff that bag.” You didn’t need to, it almost reeked more than her, but you complied out of sheer fear at what would happen if she got mad. At hearing you obey her, you saw her smile in the rearview mirror before cranking her music. Your eyes still haven’t stopped watering, and it felt like your nose rotted away forever ago. It wasn’t long until she barreled onto her gravel driveway and yanked you and her bag out of the car, slinging both on her shoulders and walking up the drive.
Sam kicked the old screen door open with one powerful kick, yelling hello to anyone who may be home before turning, walking into her room, slamming her door with another strong kick, and tossing her prize onto her rickety bed. “It’s just my mom around here, don’t worry about her, she’s tiny and doesn’t ever come in here. It’s just you and me.” She unraveled you from Katelyn’s sheets and, before you could take in any of your surroundings, stuffed you under hers, following close behind. She locked eyes with you, stern as ever. “Just you and me,” she repeated, running her hands through your hair. In a flash, she grinned and shoved you down into the darkness of her ratty linens. “Now get to kissin. You know what you’re here for scum.”
You couldn’t fight back against her arms that pushed you into a pair of muscular legs that you couldn’t possibly resist. Instead you made you very reluctantly make your way towards two stench riddled soles already scrunching their toes in hungry anticipation for your face. They weren’t bluffing either, for as soon as they could, they lunged for your cheeks, locking you into a tear jerking and iron like grip. You tried to get a grip on her legs so that you could push or pull on them, but your hands couldn’t make their way around the sheer muscle that built her like a concrete pillar. You were firmly stuck in between two slick, commanding feet that were eagerly exploring every nook and cranny of your miserable face. The salty sweat burned against your lips as she greased your face with a pool of sweat. You could only make the faintest moans from behind a mountain of fetid flesh. She giggled like a school girl in return, moving you to her liking, pushing you deeper and deeper into the old mattress while holding your legs. You were completely and utterly at her mercy, unable to move against her herculean strength and size.
“Oh, I can get so used to this, you making love to my feet like this after every practice, your face soaking up my hard work like a sponge. I heard Katelyn made you give hers kisses. My needs are no different punk. Pucker up or I’ll start breaking things.” She tightened her grip on your arm and you instinctively pecked the closest thing, her big toe. Instantly, you pulled back as far as you could, only to be chased into the dirty fabric by a dirtier foot. “Good boy, gimme more. Don’t stop.” You started to tear up again, gagging as you gave timid kisses to each of her toes. The rotting smell of toe jam and old socks transferred too perfectly into taste, and with each kiss your body crawled in disgust. You could hear her hum to herself as she sandwiched your face. The heat building up within the blankets made the entire experience almost unbearable as you struggled to squirm against the rising fumes and fluids threatening to snuff you out while she used your face as a personal massaging tool.
After what felt like an eternity, you saw light again when your captor decided to lift the blankets to see you buried quite literally in your work. “Don’t stop making out with my dirt, but does my little scum bucket want a break?” She saw you perk up and placed the heels of her feet on your quivering shoulders. “Well I’ll give you a full twenty minute break unsupervised if you can get these things clean enough that you can eat off of them...heh, that’s not such a bad idea is it?” She dropped the blanket on your horrified face, commanding your tongue out. When it didn’t happen in a heartbeat, she lifted her foot, only to smack you with the broadside of it. With the taste of pennies in your mouth and your brain scrambled, you martyred your tongue, scraping it against the hostile surface of Sam’s sole, only for it to curl back in retreat.
She disappointedly sighed, forced your mouth open with two toes on one foot, and scraped her other foot against your exposed tongue like an organic pumice stone as you screamed for mercy. What could’ve easily been years of buildup came off in rotting chunks, traveling down your throat and into your stomach. Dirt, sweat, grime, lint, toejam, dust, gunk, and god knows what else turned your mouth tarmac black as you did your best to free yourself from under her unforgiving body. She howled with sadistic glee as she switched soles, restarting the whole process, breaking every last shred of your sanity with her stinking filth. There wasn’t any possible way you could survive a week, much less a season of basketball doing this. You would die, simple as that. But all you could do was lie there. After an eternity of sheer agony and misery, she kicked your weeping self off the bed, instead crossing her legs and putting her arms behind her head.
“Kiss them one more time and you’ll have your break.” Shaking and retching, you got back up and leaned towards to fulfill her request, only for her to beat you to the punch, wrapping her legs around your head, pulling you in close to her waist. “Hahaha, come on punk, break free. Just break free, come on, what’s the matter? Can’t win against a girl? Pathetic,” She released you, flexing her still wretched smelling toes in your gasping face. You managed to place one weak kiss to her now slightly cleaner arch and backed up, hoping for one shred of mercy. Trying to conceal her joy with annoyance at your pathetic self, she shooed you off. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, go clean yourself up. You smell like a month old sweat rag. And don’t you dare think about running off unless you want a team of trained athletes to hunt you down. Then you’ll have to deal with us all at once. You have twenty minutes to get your rear end back in here before I get mad. Go.” You dashed out of the room, finding yourself in what must’ve been the trashiest place you’ve ever stepped foot in.
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