[COM] Freya's Foot Worship Night

Freya was a lonely and tired soul. Having amicably separated from the amnesiac Sir Fratley when their romance failed to rekindle, she found herself at a crossroads in her life, torn between her duty to rebuild her home and her selfish desire to discover her own happiness.

But one event that could cheer her up took place on January 20th, in the city of Lindblum. It might not have been the safest festival in the world, but the Festival of the Hunt would at least provide her with some excitement. After all, the event was no stranger to her. This time, though, she’d arrive in a less traditional outfit. Rather than wearing her regular coat, the Burmecian would instead have on a long kimono with the warm colours of a sunset. Along with that came two crimson sandals which clung to her grey feet, only making the faintest of slapping noises when she walked.

By no means was Freya’s choice in attire random. As she entered the Business District, some spotted a smirk underneath all that hair.

The element of surprise was an effective strategy to wow people. Not only that, but considering her confidence in knowing she could easily defeat monster after monster in this festival, it’d give Freya’s ego a bit of a boost. Whereas some struggled while wearing the fanciest of armours, she’d be able to defeat them in nothing but casual wear.

And that was exactly what happened. Despite the tournament drawing in more participants this year, it was still a challenge to beat Freya in the number of monsters killed. Her well-known Jump manoeuvre wasn’t the only trick up her sleeve. The other fighters were stunned to see her maintain her position in the air for so long. Fangs, the savage canines, couldn’t sink a claw into her. All Freya had to deal with were the flying Trick Sparrows, and even then, her spear had their feathers raining onto the other participants. Once they were dealt with, she’d lunge down and handle the greater beasts.

Despite only lasting twelve minutes, it was a frantic twelve minutes. In the end, Freya was the new Master Hunter of the year.

However, it marked another year of being loveless.

“Evenin’, Miss Crescent,” said a stranger, poking at her shoulder. He quickly leapt back when her spear was a hair’s inch within poking his eye out. “Easy, easy. Considering your victory, I wanted to ask if you were interested in coming to our recently established pub. It’s happy hour.”

“I…” She felt a tug at her kimono before another word came out.

“Loosen up. We have only the best of alcohol here.”

This pub was nothing like the ones that Freya had been to in her lifetime, especially not in Lindblum. While the darker lighting didn’t raise any red flags, the relative emptiness of the location did. For happy hour, it was sparse on people, with only eleven men in the place.

The man who invited her walked behind the counter and whistled. “Now then, what’ll you be having?”

For the next hour, Freya wasted away at the bar, occasionally sipping the beer from her large booth. It went down little by little, and by the time she’d had enough of being plopped in the stool, dangling the worn-in sandals from her feet, she stood and asked for the price.

“20,000 gil.”

Her ears twitched. “I beg your pardon?”

“Price is normally 40,000 gil. This stuff is no joke; it’ll get you seeing some crazy things, unlike that cheap piss water around the corner.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I did not expect such a high price.”

“Are you stiffing me?”

“I can work that money off somehow, but I…” Freya gagged, falling into the counter. “I can’t do that now.”

“Afraid I don’t accept late payments.” The bartender looked over the bar and down at Freya’s sandals. Lack of gil means you’ll have to pay in a, shall we say, less traditional way.” Then he pointed Freya in the direction of the wooden stools. Behind them was a chair that looked stiff enough to remove the curves from someone’s spine. Freya blankly stared until the man nudged her. “Just until the night is over, that’s all you have to do.”

Freya couldn’t believe what was happening. Even without the alcohol taking over her mind, the thought of sitting in a pub with the bottoms of her feet visible to everyone was utterly bizarre. People would see her soles any other day, of course, since going barefoot was the norm for her race. But their feet usually weren’t put up on display as some sort of attraction.

Men ogled her feet. Men practically drooled over her feet. Some men went so far as to touch her feet.

“Mmm, come here, lassie.” An older, prune-like gentleman used his fingers to scratch the tops of Freya’s feet.

As she let out a soft giggle, he stopped. Then the pub filled with cackling as Freya writhed in her bonds. For as little as her body could move, her feet were dancing themselves to death trying to evade the man’s hands. A futile effort, for in the end she only exhausted herself. At the same time, the man’s hands were full of supple feet. One tickled her heel, the other her grey toes.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” he chuckled, planting a dry kiss on the side of her right foot.

“No! Don’t do that!” Freya’s scream was drowned in the sea of her own laughter. “Hahahahaha! Don’t!”

Her command only encouraged the man to tickle her with more power, all while teasing her with the prospect of kissing her feet again. It was as if he was immune to the sweat that formed on her feet. All he saw was a vulnerable woman he could take advantage of, and he wouldn’t let a second go wasted. Seeing her squirm brought a satisfying smile to his face.

“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough.”

The tickler looked at the other end of the pub. “Says who?”

Standing at the door was someone whom Freya couldn’t even determine the race of in her drunken state. The voice at least indicated that it was a male, but otherwise she only saw a huge feline-like figure. One with yellowish fur on one side and blackish fur on the other.

“Great, you again.” The old man began to stroke Freya’s soles harder, causing her to let out a yelp. “Always trying to end the party before it started.”

“Let me guess,” the cat said to the bartender. “You didn’t inform her about the expensive price until after you served her, correct?”

“Nothing illegal about it if it’s all right here on the menu.”

“But morally…” He sighed. “I’ll cover the 40,000 she owes, and then you let her out of here.

“Hold on right there. That girl and her sensitive self attracts more attention than any other girl we’ve had in here. As far as I’m concerned, she’s not leaving until I close up.”

“That’s in six hours.”

“And what are you gonna do about it!?” the older man shouted, now sniffing Freya’s soles as if taking his last breaths.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to force her out of here.”

Now Freya wasn’t the only one laughing. Mugs slammed on the table and the men stood up, all keeping the cat in sight. The bartender slowly reached back and grabbed a thick blade.

The cat rolled his eyes. “You men aren’t nearly as scary as you think.”

“Wanna back that up?” one urged, approaching him with curled fists.

“Don’t do it. Don’t hurt yourself.”

The man swung at the cat. In the blink of an eye, his head struck the counter, knocking him out cold.

“Tried to warn you.” The cat rubbed together his hands. “Are we really going to do this?”

“Boy, you’ve got three seconds to run the hell up outta here!” the bartender shouted, waving his knife.

A second passed. Two seconds passed. After three seconds, the bartender had lunged over the bar.

The cat ducked and swiftly drove a fist into the bartender’s chest. The man flew into the ceiling and landed belly-first on the edge of the counter, with the knife meeting him only a second later. Now the cat looked at the other bar patrons and shook his head as they rushed toward him. He smashed two of their heads together, kicked another into a table, and eventually found himself dancing between attacks from multiple assailants.

He took a blow to the nose, skidding across the floor on all fours now. As he rose, he held out his right hand.

“If this is how you wish to play, I’ll oblige.” A glow emanated from his palm. “Fire!”

An inferno wrapped inside a ball launched at the speed of lightning. It dispersed across every standing man in the vicinity. As the temperature rose to unbearable levels, the men ran out the pub like headless chickens, their hair sizzling like bacon.

Walking through the smoky air, the cat lightly kicked the bartender. “I’ll be back here next week, so if you or your boys want to challenge me, at least find someone who can defend themselves.”

He wiped the dirt from his shoulders and walked over the Freya. It took her ten seconds to react to his presence.

“Who are you?”

“The guy who just saved you.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t need any saving now, okay?”

He smirked. “Considering the show you put on earlier—where you looked fantastic, by the way—I believe you. But even the greatest among us are powerless once the spirits of alcohol have us at their mercy.”

He released her from her prison, and Freya immediately began to slump to the floor. When he caught her, the cat realised how intoxicated she really was. Freya’s eyes didn’t react to a single thing, and she didn’t even try to catch herself or stand.

“The good thing is that the alcohol is strong, but its serious effects are shorter than all the other ones. It takes two hours for it to wear off, and from what I can see, you couldn’t have been here for more than an hour.” He lifted her by the shoulders. “I’m temporarily residing at a hotel. It’s advisable that you come with me so that no one takes advantage of you in the meantime.”

“I am good, Fratley…”

“My name is Akaya, but in this situation, I’d be a fool to take ‘no’ for an answer.” He looked at the tops of her feet. “Yes, unfortunately some very dirty people like to come here. You probably should have covered up your toes.”

“Sandals…”

“Pardon me?”

“I need to get them…”

Akaya looked around the bar and found Freya’s thick, red sandals behind the counter. While he left her to lean on the counter for support, he remained on the floor, simply admiring the shoes. In particular, he smiled at the footprints left in them, which left a perfect example of the curviness of Freya’s feet. He grabbed the left one and pulled it up to his face. However, halfway, he froze.

If it’s inappropriate when this man sniffed them, it’d be wrong for me to do this as well. At least with her in this state.

And so before he could get a whiff, he stood and showed Freya her missing footwear. Although watching her slowly put the shoes on was a mini show in itself, what with her largest toes worming their way past the shoes’ toe separators.

When Akaya led Freya’s sluggish body out of the pub, the sunset sky was mostly purple. There was but a glimmer of orange above the horizon, which occasionally cast upon them some extra light. And when that happened, and Akaya happened to look down, he could see just how sweaty Freya’s feet were. The little bit of sole that stuck out of the sandals revealed a shiny coat that made one think she’d been diving in an ocean of oil.

Unlike some others, Freya primarily walked toes-first, meaning that anyone lucky enough to be behind her would see her shoes slapping against her heels.

As much as I’d love to, I risk her falling face-first if I’m not by her side, Akaya thought.

“Not every day I see a Burmecian trying to wear something on their feet. What’s up with that?”

“I chose to shake things up…” Her words came out as slurred as ever, but now it only took her six seconds to respond to questions. “I also sought more of a challenge this time around for the festival.”

Akaya’s mind lit up. “How so? Were you expecting the monsters to faint by smelling your feet?”

“Mobility… The more impractical the shoes, the clunkier the battle becomes… That I overcome them either says something about my ability or the lack of strength from the monsters…”

“Maybe they put up less of a fight because they were mesmerised by how your feet looked in those sandals.”

“No… Who would be?”

“Let’s ask the people I just ran out of a pub.” He leaned closer in. “Any longer spent tickling your feet, and that old-timer would’ve eventually creamed his pants.”

Freya’s reaction of disgust came immediately. “I could’ve gone without thinking of that…”

“He sure was breathing hard like he already did. Tell me, do you think your feet smell good?”

Akaya waited for a simple answer from Freya. Whether she thought her smelt good or bad, chances were high that he would be satisfied with the answer. But as they walked, through some grass and over an arched bridge, Freya only let out an occasional moan. It was as if the alcohol was taking control of her mind again. Shrugging, Akaya took one last look at her feet and remained silent.

“With how my bare feet touch the earth every day, you’re safe to assume that they don’t smell the cleanest at all times. Sometimes they can be if I happen to walk in a way that doesn’t attract much dirt. Often the heels and much of the… I guess you’d call it an arch—they smell fresh.

“My toes attract the most odour. I don’t think it’s horrible, especially when compared to some others. But mileage varies, and you’re no different there. On this particular day, however, I could imagine my feet smelling a touch sweatier because of the sandals. It feels foreign not to have the bottoms of my feet covered from heel to toe in grit and grime, but it’s not as if I can’t handle it…

“Therefore, this old man’s brain must be in its final years if he thought my feet smelt pleasant.”

And it was at that moment that Akaya needed a towel.

He spent much of the rest of the walk fighting to keep his nerves under control. The way Freya described her feet was nothing short of magical, giving enough detail for him to form a picture, but not so much as to ruin his imagination.

The hotel that Akaya brought Freya to didn’t exactly scream rich, but it didn’t scream poor either. Its best quality was the lack of thieves hiding around it, meaning fewer creepy individuals for Freya to encounter. When Akaya brought her to his room, he pointed her to the couch.

As Freya lay on the small couch, Akaya’s ears perked up.

Slap… Slap…

The repeated sound made him look at Freya’s feet once more. At that moment, she was slowly slapping her thick sandals against her soles. Whether she was doing it consciously, Akaya had no idea. But the sound reignited his dirty fantasies. He could hear every detail of the wet sounds her heel made from the spongy contact. It seemed as if the slapping only increased with time—not just in frequency but in volume.

She seems to be at ease now, he thought. A quick close-up look isn’t gonna hurt.

He walked over to the couch and reached for her left sandal. At first, this provoked no reaction from Freya. Akaya’s fingers slid between the sandal and the foot, with the tops of his fingers pressing hard against the sole. Only ten seconds passed before he began to lift the sandal.

In a flash, he found himself on the floor with his right arm high in the air. He let out a gasp. A sharp pain radiated from his wrist, and he soon realised that something held a tight grip on him.

Gulping, he looked up. Freya was looking him dead in the eye.

“What was it you just tried to do?”

“I was…” Time was short for Akaya. “I was just trying to remove your shoes.”

“I could have kicked them off myself if I wanted.”

“Simple courtesy.”

“Since when is taking off someone’s shoes a difficult task? Especially when neither laces nor straps are involved.” She pointed to his hand. “Do you have butterfingers? They look dry to me.”

Every excuse Akaya came up with was quickly cut short by Freya’s words. He could spit two direct lies in her face, but after six, he began to tire. Freya could see this as she sat up and crossed her arms. If it wasn’t apparent to him previously, it was apparent now that what alcohol remained in her no longer had a hold on her mind. And since Akaya knew what she was capable of in a fight, he didn’t dare get on her bad side.

“I could give you the reason, but chances are high that you won’t like it.”

“Try me.”

“I’m stunned you haven’t caught on.” He sat beside her. “The truth is that I like your feet.”

Freya couldn’t have let out a louder groan of disappointment. After the ordeal she’d been through, the last thing on her mind had been entertaining another individual with her feet.

“I mean, I deserve a bit of credit, right?” Akaya continued. “Unlike the guys in the pub, I feel I maintained things as professional as I could.”

“Until not even five minutes ago,” Freya mumbled.

“I assure you that I wouldn’t have gone farther than removing your shoes.” While explaining himself, Akaya tried keeping his focus on Freya’s face rather than her feet on the ground. “I’ll confess that your feet look like they’d smell nice, but you have to believe me when I say I respect boundaries.”

Freya raised a brow. “And I’m supposed to trust you, why?”

“Because I could’ve easily had my way with you hours ago, and I haven’t.”

While Freya searched for a way to disprove his words, she found herself drawing a blank. After all, if Akaya had been as indecent as the men in that pub, he would’ve been the main one tickling her in those stocks. And instead of that, he was offering her a stay in his hotel room while the effects of the alcohol left her body. Besides, if the closest he had come to touching her inappropriately was taking her sandals off, then he seemed like the last threat within a million miles.

With nothing more to say, Akaya went to stand.

“Stay.”

He looked to Freya. “Yes?”

She lifted her legs over his lap. Before he could react, she leaned further back against the couch and began to lower her feet. Her heels dug into his thigh. They then got closer to his groin, albeit not making any contact. Both of Freya’s feet sat motionless, as she patiently waited for Akaya to make a move.

But what move was Akaya to make? As far as he was concerned, Freya was messing with him. She had just expressed disinterest in having her feet touched, and now she had her feet on his lap?

Freya sighed. She kicked off her sandals, leaving them on his lap as well.

Her soles rubbed against each other, producing a wet but rough sound. She didn’t stop staring at Akaya; instead, her gaze grew stronger and stronger. It was as if she was trying to telepathically convey the message to the man. It took seconds of rubbing her sweaty feet together before Akaya seemed to get some kind of hint. Though he still didn’t touch her feet.

“Don’t tell me I have to spell it out for you.”

“I’m more so waiting for permission. How do I know this isn’t some trick test, you know?”

“Because if I didn’t want you to do this, I’d have left this place a minute ago.”

With those words, Akaya lit up. He continued to admire Freya’s feet, from the lovely coat of grey the tops had to the creamy white that the soles proudly displayed. White mixed with a faint blush, to be more accurate. And against the warm candle lights, the shininess of her soles was very apparent.

The cat took a foot in each hand. His thumbs pressed into the middles of the balls, and he made small circles while Freya watched.

As Freya’s breathing slowed, Akaya’s accelerated. Had Freya received a foot massage in the past? Without knowing, he had to bring his top game to this massage. Yet doing that without much knowledge of foot massages would make this as easy as walking through quicksand. He gently put more pressure on his thumbs, therefore applying more pressure onto the middle parts of the feet. Both feet got simultaneous attention, then his focus went onto the right foot. But after half a minute, the left foot received its own intense treatment.

Akaya rubbed his palms on the tops of her feet. Her fur was as soft as snow, complementing the silkiness of her soles. And her claws caught his attention for their length. What would be an unattractive quality among some other races was beautiful for Burmecians.

“With all your work today, I’d say you deserve this,” he said.

He continued to press on every inch of Freya’s feet, this massaging lasting for minutes. Freya kept her lips sealed the whole time. Her quietness resulted in Akaya slowly beginning to doubt his massage skills. He expected at least a small gesture of satisfaction, like a moan or some toe-curling. But Freya was as still as a stone.

However, one small thing set his nerves at ease. With her feet being directly below him, their smell rose to his nose like smoke.

The smell, or the stench, could lock him in a spell. It was faint yet able to leave a great impression, what with it being a fine mixture of sweat and toes. It came in waves, giving Akaya some fresh air between each whiff of the heavenly scent. His nose twitched every time he smelt them. And that unconscious process to him was a notable quality to Freya.

“They do smell really nice,” he moaned, kneading the feet with care.

Her toes finally twitched in Akaya’s hands.

Before he could look at her, those same toes had skyrocketed to his nose. They pinched it. They played with it. His nose slid in between her sweat-soaked digits, causing him to inhale both the stink and salt puddles. The other foot joined in the action, with its big toe poking his lips. As it tried to invade his mouth, the other toes bunched up and prepared to spring in as well.

The feet pulled his head to face Freya, whose stare pierced his eyes. For the first time since arriving to this hotel room, Akaya spotted a smirk on her face.

He didn’t allow her big toe to enter his mouth. He forced it into his mouth, with its claw ready to slice anything if things got too hectic. As soon as the toe got nice and comfy, flattening the tongue, Akaya began to suck on it. If the small hadn’t been enough to seriously arouse him, then the taste picked up the slack. Rich in salt, it graced his taste buds. The rare speck of dirt from her sandals—something so uncommon that it stood out when it did appear in Akaya’s mouth—only complemented Freya’s salty feet.

It wasn’t good enough to just suck on the toe, however. He needed to swirl his tongue around it. And then he needed to give the claw a wet treatment just to cover all bases. Only then would he feel like he’d done his job, and until then, his mission was sucking all the juicy flavour out of Freya’s feet.

And while he sucked on one foot, the other one remained to please his nostrils. He sniffed the toes for a minute before descending to the rest of the sole. Sure enough, Freya was right. Most of that hot scent he’d come to admire truly grew around the toes. But the soles’ mild version of the scent still drew Akaya to them, for they added variety to this spicy foot dish.

Freya winced as she felt his thick tongue wriggle between her toes. Holding in laughter, even after her feet had been tickled to death, was a challenge.

Moaning, Akaya pulled the toes out his mouth and started to lick up and down Freya’s sole. He kept to a slow rhythm. But whenever the pace got too slow, Akaya would surprise the woman by sucking on her sole. Sometimes he’d suck on the ball of her foot, and sometimes it’d be the heel. Both provoked a small yelp from Freya, followed by her toes curling so hard that her feet produced tons of wrinkles.

As he nibbled at her arches, she let a few giggles escape.

“Do you enjoy that?” he asked. He gave her foot a lick from heel to toe before returning to the arch. “Right there?”

With his mouth on her sole and his nose tickling her toes, Freya couldn’t help but give a hearty laugh. But in the middle of it, she barely nodded.

That was enough for Akaya to stick his entire tongue out and ramp up the pace. He licked faster and faster, alternating the feet. The extra saliva he put in this licking caused her already-shiny soles to glisten further. Numbing her arches was just the beginning of how he was going to put Freya on cloud nine.

Her pinkie toe went in his mouth. Nothing unusual by this point, as all her toes had spit dripping between them. But then the fourth toe entered, followed by the third toe, followed by the second toe. The only one sticking out was the big toe, which uncontrollably trembled. Akaya chuckled as he looked at Freya’s flustered face, something he hadn’t seen since they were in the pub. He counted the seconds as they passed, just leaving her toes to sit in his mouth and wait for the inevitable. As soon as he got to the double digits, he crammed all five toes into his mouth.

Freya leaned her head back, letting out the loudest moan that night. In response, Akaya tightened his grip and drove her foot deeper in his mouth. The malodourous sole was halfway covered by his lips, and once the tips of her claws tapped the back of his throat, he knew it was time to suck on it.

“You are really…” Freya was at a loss of words.

Every second and a half, a tight suction tugged on her foot. Her free foot shook in place, while her drenched foot wiggled its toes inside Akaya’s mouth. With all this stimulation, her breathing had gone from calm and collected to being just as intense as Akaya’s.

Pulling her foot out of his mouth brought with it tons of spit. Freya no longer needed to scrunch her toes to make her foot wrinkle.

And yet Akaya licked as if they were grimy, mopping her plump toes with his tongue. He then kissed them and returned to sucking on the big one. At this point, Freya couldn’t add much to her reactions. She could only moan, stare in shock, and giggle. The audible reactions were what set Akaya’s heart ablaze, especially as Freya wiggled her toes in the process.

She gasped as she felt his mouth move to her other foot. “I don’t even think I’ll need a bath at this rate.”

“Neither do I,” Akaya said, smooching her sole.

Those slobbery noises echoed throughout the night until both parties were well asleep. Freya hadn’t moved from that position, and Akaya lay unconscious with her toes in his mouth. But both shared one thing: a smile of satisfaction

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This commissioned story was ordered by WillowsBuggy  . If you'd like to discussion commissions, contact me here or on Discord. My username is vanillasoftart.