Relent<
1st Level Yellow Feather
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I cannot stress this enough: this story IS NOT MINE. However, it is one of my all time favorites, and as such I felt compelled to repost it. If for whatever reason this doesn't fly, I'll take it down. So anywho, this story is 149pgs long, and I can only post so many characters. Without further ado, chapter one, and a download for the full story.
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Rika
By Luckycat
Chapter one - Phoenix
Feeney sat at the two o’clock position of the largest booth in the restaurant. She’d felt guilty for taking it as it was now well into lunch hour and the place was packed. The cute little blonde at the counter had offered it like it was no big deal, and hungry, Feeney had accepted.
Glancing up from her soup, she saw several people staring at her with annoyed expressions, wondering where the other seven people were. Across the room where a waiting line had formed, five men in business suits stared at her angrily. A fat man in front turned to the man behind him and whispered something, shaking his head in disgust.
“Fuck you fatty! Fuck all of you! I’m just going just to sit right here and eat my gazpacho soup like I have all the time in the world. So just fuck off!!
Feeney shouted in her mind, and began to eat more quickly.
She often wondered at the collective intelligence of a world that ordained that everyone should eat lunch during the same one-hour period. Stupid! Almost as stupid, was the habit of keeping one of the two front restaurant doors locked so that you had to fumble to get in just to give them your money. Stupid!
‘An hour from now,” She thought. ‘I’d have the whole place to myself!’
Feeney reached to her purse and withdrew the battered novel she was reading, “Temptations of the Flesh”, a real bodice ripper. The cover was so embarrassingly pathetic that she kept it covered it with one hand so that people wouldn’t laugh at her for reading such trash. She promptly became so engrossed in the florid story that she suddenly realized that her soup was getting cold.
The Leather-clad Woman
Returning her spoon to the bowl, she glanced up see the tall figure of a woman pass by her booth, no doubt on the way to the ladies room at the rear of the restaurant.
Feeney’s spoon paused on its way to her mouth as she took in the black spandex turtleneck top and tight-fitting black leather pants. The pants descended to mid-calf, and were so incredibly snug that Feeney wondered how the woman had been able to get into them at all.
The woman’s feet were shod in a heavy pair of shiny black combat boots with two-inch high soles and ass-kicking metal covered toes. Completing her ensemble, were fingerless black leather gloves.
‘A curious outfit for a warm day in October,’ Feeney mused.
As the woman passed, she suddenly stopped in mid stride. Feeney couldn’t but fail to notice the perfect, toned shape of her body, and how the leather pants put such a fine point on it.
Turning, the woman met her eyes and stared boldly back. Her face was strikingly beautiful. With the exception of violet eye shadow, she wore no make-up at all. Her pale face was framed by raven-black hair that was cut daringly short, being buzzed almost to the skin at the sides of her head, while the top spiked forward.
She reminded Feeney of some dangerous, hungry lizard.
But of all her remarkable features, her eyes were the most amazing things of all. One was ice blue, while the other was a true cat-green. Both were piercing.
The woman moved towards Feeney wearing a quizzical, bemused smile. But until she stood beside the booth, Feeney had had no idea just how extraordinarily tall the woman actually was. Even allowing for the thick soles of her boots she must be…
“Six foot two.” The woman said in a rich alto voice.
“Excuse me?” Feeney said.
“That’s the answer to the first stupid question that most people usually ask.”
Feeney smiled shyly.
“The second’s even worse; how’s the weather up there?”
Feeney said, “Then you should pretend to spit on them, and say ‘It’s raining.’”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, then she grinned. “I like you, you’ve got pluck!”
“Thanks, but actually…I was going to ask you a different question.”
The woman’s face tightened. “Yeah? And what was that cutie?”
Feeney glanced away, and then bravely met the tall woman’s eyes before once more having to avoid their knife-like stare.
“I…I was wondering how you ever managed to fit into those pants.”
The woman gave a short laugh and grinned to reveal perfect sharp white teeth.
“I know you, don’t I?”
Feeney shrugged. “Maybe. I work at the college.”
“Oh?” The woman looked interested. “Which department?”
“Student loans. I’ve been there for two years now.”
The woman snapped her gloved fingers and pointed her hand at Feeney like a slender black gun.
“You work for Tom Corbin?”
Feeney nodded. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“Not really. Hey, excuse me cutie, but I really need to pee!”
Turning, the woman strode quickly towards the restroom.
“What a strange one.” Feeney mussed to herself as she brought the spoon to her mouth. “Beautiful, but kinda scary.”
Rika
Three minutes later the woman turned the corner and moved to slide in beside Feeney—uninvited.
Picking up the plastic covered menu that sat wedged between the napkins and the salt and peppershaker, she buried her nose for a moment before lowering it again to meet Feeney’s gray eyes. “Name’s Rika. Got a boy friend?”
Feeney shook her head.
Rika grinned, apparently liking the answer. “What’s yours?” She asked returning to the menu.
“Mine?” Feeney asked.
“Your name cutie, you do have one don’t you?” Rika said without looking up.
“Feeney, with an F.”
The two eyes burned into her. “Feeney? Is it short for something?
“For Phoenix, but nobody calls me that, just Feeney.”
“Shame. Phoenix is a knockout! That’s the bird that arises from its own ashes, like in that Harry Potter movie.”
Feeney smiled and nodded.
“Well I’m going to call you Phoenix. It fits you better.”
Feeney shrugged. “Suit yourself, but like I said, everybody…”
“I’m not everybody! I’m Rika. And your name is now Phoenix! Period!”
“Phoenix will do fine.” Feeney said, caving to the woman’s strong will.
Rika made a sour face. “Mine’s actually Erika, but if you ever call me that, I’ll hog-tie you and beat the soles of your feet until you can’t walk!”
Feeney felt the smallest twinge of erotic pleasure as her nipples tightened for a brief second. She smiled nervously, but the tall woman didn’t return it.
A waitress approached carrying a glass of water and some utensils wrapped in a paper napkin. Setting them down hard in front of Rika she said, “Will there just be the two of you today?” She was apparently annoyed that she would be losing the large tips that the big booth usually generated during lunchtime.
“No.” Rika said looking up with a smirk. “I have a bus load of senior citizens outside on their way in. They’ll all be needing separate checks.”
“Cute.” The waitress said blandly, raising her pencil and check pad.
“They don’t tip either.” Rika added grinning.
A frown tugged at the corners of the waitress’s mouth. “Real cute! May I please have your order?”
“I’ll have the sirloin special, medium rare.”
“Side dishes?” The waitress asked.
“No damned potatoes! Just veggies. And a salad, blue cheese.”
“To drink?”
“Beer. Harp or Killian’s.”
“We have Harp lager.”
Rika nodded. “In a wine glass, a Bourdot, if you have one in this joint.
The waitress smirked. “I think that we can accommodate ‘Madame.’”
“Thanks.” Rika said, and handed the menu back to her.
As the waitress disappeared to place the order, Feeney whispered, “Are you always so demanding?”
“Always.” Rika said, scowling at Feeney’s hair.
Feeney touched a hand to the side of her head. “Don’t you like my new haircut? I just had it done yesterday, they took off almost eight inches.”
Rika snapped her gloved fingers again. “Now I remember you! You’re the one with the Veronica Lake hair.”
“Excuse me?”
“The actress from the thirties, she had blonde hair clear down to her ass.”
Feeney shook her head. “Sorry, don’t know her. And my hair’s auburn.”
“Why did you stop so short?” Rika said still scowling.
“Excuse me?”
“Turn your head and lift your up hair.”
Feeney swallowed, but did as she was told.
Rika nodded. “See, you have perfect small ears and a beautiful face. Why hide it behind that awful mop of hair? Who the hell did that to you? I’d be looking for a new stylist, right after I tortured the one who did that to my hair!”
Feeney smiled timidly, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. “So then, I take it you don’t like my hair?” She said, and made a pouting face.
“I hate it.” Rika said matter-of-factly. “It makes you look like a frump. No wonder you don’t have a boy friend.”
Feeney blushed. “You certainly don’t mince words Rika.”
Rika nodded as the Waitress dropped off her beer and wine glass.
“Never have. Pisses people off too. But then, I like pissing people off.”
“Oh?”
“Sure, that way you know where you stand with them.” Rika added. “You should go blonde, you’d make a really hot blonde!”
Feeney’s blush deepened. “Thanks, I’ll think about it. Maybe next time…”
“Don’t think about it, do it!” Rika said hotly. “Don’t be like most people who sit on their asses their entire life waiting for something fun to happen. Follow your own wildest desires! Make some fun happen for yourself, or one day you’ll kick yourself in the ass for having let life pass you by.”
Spider Woman
“That’s an interesting philosophy Rika, but…”
“But nothing! How do you expect to attract a fly into your web if you don’t offer it a little sugar?”
Feeney giggled. “Spiders don’t use sugar Rika.”
Rika smiled back and shrugged. “Well maybe not, but they should!” Rika took a long sip of beer and went on. “You know, I have a theory about spiders cutie, would you care to hear it?”
Feeney had no idea what to make of this outspoken leather-clad woman. But suddenly, she realized that for the first time in months, she was actually enjoying having a conversation with someone, someone who was very much different from her.
Way different.
“Spiders? Sure.” Feeney said, curious.
“Most people think that a bug just flies into the spider’s web because he’s too stupid to see it, and gets stuck.”
“But isn’t that why they call it a trap?” Feeney said.
Rika shook her head. “Bugs have thousands of eyes, and they aren’t stupid! Ever try to catch a fly? Trust me, he can see that web just fine.”
“Then why does he get trapped and eaten?”
Rika’s eyes sparkled as she took a sip of her beer and then bent forward in her seat. “Because he’s fatally attracted by the sheer evil of the spider! The same way people are attracted to stories of brutal murders and rapes. The same way that women fall for guys like Charlie Manson.”
Feeney squinted skeptically. “So…bugs—want—to get eaten?”
“Maybe not eaten,” Rika said with a wicked grin. “But maybe they’re tempted by the thought of being so tightly wrapped up in that strong silk, and struggling helplessly while the spider slowly sucks em dry!”
“Yuck!” Feeney said and shuddered. “You make the bugs sound like perverts.”
“Maybe they are perverts.” Rika said warming to her subject. “Many animals perform acts that we call perversion. Giraffes, penguins, sheep, bats, dolphins, even dragon flies have shown transgender and homosexual behavior.”
“Really?” Feeney asked, surprised.
Rika nodded. “Sure, just look at us humans. We have so many interesting little perversions that we can’t even keep track of them all.”
“Well—I suppose.” Feeney said hesitantly.
“Scratch the surface of any man or woman who is supposedly ‘normal’ and you’ll find a person that has at least some small fetish, or taste for something slightly bizarre.”
“So…then, what you’re saying is that all bugs are perverted, and want to experience being put into bondage by a spider?”
Rika shrugged. “Well, maybe not all of them, just the lucky ones!” She winked the blue eye.
Feeney smiled and sat up straight. She Rolled her head around her neck to be rewarded with several loud cracks. “That’s an interesting theory Rika, but sorry, I don’t buy it. At least the part about people I mean. Most people are normal—like me.”
“Yeah? Well to me normal is just another word for boring.” Rika said coolly. “And I can’t imagine that you’re boring. Not with that tight little body.”
Feeney met Rika’s intense stare. “Thanks for the compliment, I’m glad that somebody finally noticed. I try to stay in shape.”
“Maybe in some ways.” Rika said cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
Rika ignored this. “Wanna play a little game?”
Feeney shrugged. “Maybe. What kind of game?”
“One that might prove to you that you’re not quite as normal as you think you are.” Rika added. “Unless of course…you have something to hide.”
“I don’t have anything to hide.” Feeney said matter of factly.
“Okay, then play. It won’t hurt, it’s only a bunch or questions that I ask.”
“Shoot!” Feeney said, determined to prove the tall woman wrong.
“Look into my eyes, and try not to blink after I ask each question. Understand?”
“Sure.” Feeney said, steeling herself. “Go!”
Gotcha!
Rika glanced upward at the ceiling, narrowing her multi-colored eyes in thought. Then locking them on Feeney’s, she began her game.
“Imagine someone’s lips lightly brushing across your own, sweetly and seductively.”
“Whose lips?” Feeney asked.
Rika rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter whose lips, anybody’s, the most fucking handsome man in the world! Use your imagination, but don’t talk, or I can’t do this.”
“Okay, sorry.” Feeney said apologetically.
“Al right then, Let’s start over. Try to imagine those lips.”
Rika stared intently into Feeney’s gray eyes for a moment before moving on.
“Now, imagine a finger pushing slowly inside your vagina.”
Feeney wanted to smile, but forced herself to stare unblinking into Rika’s eyes.
“Imagine that the finger has now found your clit, and is beginning to stroke it.”
Feeney suppressed a giggle.
“Now imagine lips surrounding the nipple of your breast, while a smooth wet tongue begins to lap at it.”
Feeney continued to stare into the piercing eyes.
“Now imagine a finger softly stoking your anus.”
“How softly?” Feeney said and gave a single giggle.
“Shut up! Now imagine a finger running slowly along the sole of you foot.”
“Stop, That tickles!” Feeney said and began to laugh.”
Instead of being scolded once more, Rika smiled and sat back in her seat. “Gotcha!” She said with a satisfied smile.
Feeney looked startled. “Got what? What so you mean? Got what?”
The waitress appeared and presented Rika with her steak.
“Will there be anything else—Madame?”
“Yea, a doggie bag for your head, and a Harp for my friend here.”
The waitress stormed off.
“Thanks Rika, but I don’t drink beer.”
Rika grinned showing the sharp teeth. “Now you do!” She said, and tore into the steak as though she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Are you always this rude to people?” Feeney asked.
Rika nodded and took another bite of steak. “Always, especially if they deserve it, like her sorry ass does.” She waved a hand in the waitress’s direction.
Feeney laughed despite herself. “Well, she was a bit-discourteous.”
“Fuck her.” Rika said dismissively, if she was half as smart as she thinks she is, she’d be sitting at home on her skinny ass collecting welfare like twenty million other losers.”
“Shame on you Rika!” Feeney said still laughing. “Welfare is to provide funds for the disenfranchised poor, and to help the children.”
Rika rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “Think so? Then let me fill you in cutie. What welfare really does, is provide an endless stream of money—our money—for a bunch of lazy shits to buy cigarettes, booze and lottery tickets. The poor kids just usually get stiffed!"
“You are absolutely outrageous!” Feeney said, wide-eyed.”
Rika nodded in agreement. “Thanks. And I’m usually right too.”
Feeney held up a palm. “Stop. Tell me about this stupid game. Why did you say ‘Gotcha?’ Explain!”
Rika shook her head. “Nope, wait. I’m eating.”
Feeney crossed both arms across her chest and watched as the steak was literally devoured in less than two minute’s time. As Rika was finishing off the last off her carrots and broccoli, the waitress returned and slammed a Harp and a Bourdot onto the table. She was gone before Feeney could look up.
“Okay.” Rika said, pushing her plate away. “The game.”
“Yes?”
“You have a foot-fetish.” Rika said matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?” Feeney said indignantly.
Rika looked at her and grinned. “You say that a lot don’t you?”
“Well…I…”
“What I said…was that you have a strong foot-fetish, and although that’s not very unusual, it does mean that you’re not was is technically known as ‘normal.’”
“So, you think I’m some kind of pervert—like your bondage loving bugs?”
Rika nodded. “Exactly. Only you prefer feet to spider lairs.”
“That’s bullshit Rika!” Feeney said angrily.
“What? Was that a curse word I just heard? Shame on you cutie, please respect my virgin ears.” Rika grinned.
“Right.” Feeney said. “My humblest apologies. Now give!”
Rika wiped her wide, sensual lips with a paper napkin. “Okay, here’s how it works. I asked a few specific questions that were meant to be…sexually suggestive.”
“I’d have said vulgar, but please go on.” Feeney interjected.
“And-after I asked each question, I carefully observed the pupils of your eyes to see if they dilated.”
“Which means?”
“They get bigger.”
Feeney blew out a breath. “I know what dilate means. What do you mean?”
“I mean…that if I had struck a nerve, and said something that you were afraid, or ashamed of, it meant that you had an inordinate interest in that particular act, or part of your body.”
“And?”
“And…when I mentioned someone stroking the sole of your foot, the black dots in the center of your beautiful gray eyes nearly exploded!”
“Bullshit!”
Rika held her hands in the “I surrender” pose. “The eyes don’t lie cutie; you’ve been exposed. You’ve got one powerful thing for feet—Care to deny it?” Rika leaned on the table supporting her chin with palms of her hands. She grinned as her green and blue eyes bore into Feeney’s.
Feeney bit her lip and pouted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about you…you…you tall leather spider pervert!” Feeney laughed nervously
“No?” Rika said with an evil tone. “Well, know what I think? I think that you’re lying to me!”
“Am not!”
“Little liar!”
“Am not!” Feeney stuck out her tongue.
“Liar—liar—liar!” Rika sung.
Feeney crossed her arms. “No one can read a persons secret desires by simply looking at their eyes Miss…ah…what did you say you last name is?”
“Rand. It’s Rika Rand. And you’re wrong, I can! Want me to prove it?”
Feeney blew out a small breath. “You can’t prove something like that!”
Rika lowered her hands down into her lap and leaned forward across the table so that her face was inches from Feeney’s “Wanna-bet?”
Captive
Feeney felt a gloved hand surround her right ankle. Before she could react, her leg had been lifted so that her foot was held tightly in Rika’s lap.
“Hey!” Feeney said, trying to free her foot. “What are you doing?”
“Proving my point.” Rika said.
“Let go!” Feeney said, tugging her foot. But Rika’s hands possessed incredible strength and held the foot tightly locked in place.
“Stop struggling cutie, relax. I won’t bite you. I just want to help you to find the truth about yourself. It’s out there you know?” She smiled.
Feeney stopped struggling and looked around the restaurant nervously to see if anyone was watching, but the other diners all seemed busy with their food and conversations, no one was paying them the slightest notice.
“Let’s just have a little look at the object of our—affection—shall we?” Rika said, and slid the brown loafer from Feeney’s foot, placing it beside her on the seat, well out of Feeney’s reach.
Rika sat back in the seat and pulled Feeney’s leg straight out. As she stared down into her lap she began to grin from ear to ear. “Oh my!!” One leather-clad hand held her foot trapped while the other twisted it back and forth as Rika’s multi-colored eyes took in every part of it.
Looking up in surprise, Rika said, “Why the hell have you been hiding these beautiful feet inside those ugly shoes?”
Feeney blinked and gripped the edge of the table. “You…you think my feet are…Okay?” She asked, unsure whether to be pissed-off or flattered.
“Okay?” Rika said, and dropped her jaw. “They’re absolutely scrumptious!”
“They’re kinda big.” Feeney began to blush. “No—they’re really big!”
Rika looked back down and nodded. “Tens, A-width.”
“How…how did you know that?” Feeney asked in surprise. “Do you work in a shoe store or something?”
Rika smiled evilly. “No, let’s just say that I have special—interest—in feet.”
“Well, I'm really glad you approve of my foot, now…now let it go!” Feeney said.
Rika ignored her, and looked up to meet Feeney’s eyes with a sharp hungry look that was almost frightening.
“This is exceptional. I’ve never such a perfect foot in my entire life. A nice round heel, a smooth sole, and wonderfully long toes with stunning nails. I’m really quite impressed!”
“Thanks. Now let it go!”
“No.” Rika said calmly and bent to inspect the foot once again. “Is the other foot as scrumptious as this one?”
“It’s exactly the same, only the big toe’s on the other side.”
“Funny.” Rika said without smiling. “I wonder…”
Rika quickly raised her left leg and crossed it over Feeney’s ankle, further trapping it. Straightening in her seat, she quickly removed her leather gloves. Placing them on the table, she reached down to her lap, and while holding Feeney's foot by the heel with one hand, she gently moved the tips of the fingers of her other hand slowly along the sole.
Feeney’s leg bucked. “Be careful Rika! I’m really ticklish!!”
“Oh I’m so sorry!” Rika said without one ounce of repentance in her voice. “You have my complete sympathy. I’m incredibly ticklish too, especially in the morning, when my feet are dry and hard!”
The fingers had begun to gently massage the foot.
“You mustn’t be embarrassed by having large feet you know. Mine are much bigger, size twelve C’s. But the larger the foot, the more the fun, right?”
Despite the awkward position Feeney now found herself, she had to admit that what Rika was doing to her foot was maddeningly wonderful. The strange woman’s fingers seemed to have a gift. Feeney sighed with pleasure as they slowly kneaded every part of her sole.
“You’re…you’re pretty good at that.” Feeney said. “At massage I mean.”
“Thanks cutie. It’s another passion on mine. I have lots of passions, but I’m afraid that you might find some of them just a little bizarre!”
Feeney sighed again and squirmed her toes.
“It’s a shame that in this joint, I can’t give this tootsie the attention it deserves.”
Reminded of where she was, Feeney looked around once more to make sure that she and her companion were still being ignored.
The restaurant was beginning to empty. A line had formed at the check-out counter and the little blonde was taking the patrons money, ringing the cash register as fast as she could.
“The skin on the sole of your foot is like silk!” Rika said, licking her lips with her tongue.
The massage was both relaxing and strangely exciting at the same time. Possessing such sensitive feet had always been a big problem for Feeney, and she had always strictly forbidden anyone to touch them, even during lovemaking. Now, for some strange reason, having her foot held against her will seemed to increase both its sensitivity and her pleasure at the tall woman’s touch. As Rika’s fingers continued to move, Feeney became aware that a tightness, a vague desire, had begun to stir within her groin. She was becoming aroused.
“Ah ha!” Rika said staring at Feeney’s chest. “Gotcha again!!”
“What?” Feeney said and quickly lowered her head to see that her nipples were tightly raised beneath her blouse.
“Shit!” She said, and once more tried unsuccessfully to free the trapped foot.
Rika winked at her. “‘Normal’ people only like having their feet rubbed, it doesn’t turn them on. Sorry cutie, but I just proved my case; you’re a pervert!”
Feeney met Rika’s eyes bravely but she couldn’t seem to form words. There was nothing that she could say, her own body had betrayed her, and there was no possible defense.
She knew that she had always had a special interest in her own feet, and they had figured prominently in her dreams and fantasies. But she had ignored this as a minor human quirk, and mentally had refused to acknowledge that it had any real importance to her sexual balance. She hated this strange woman for making a fool of her, and discovering in only minutes something she had managed to keep hidden from other people her entire life. She wanted free, but strangely, she didn’t also want Rika to stop.
Rika had begun to pull on each of her toes, stretching them, tugging at them delightfully. “What’s the matter?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m…embarrassed.” Feeney said softly.
“Rika shook her head. “Don’t be. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what God has given you to take pleasure in.” She stared into Feeney’s eyes as she tugged at her little toe. “But if it’s any consolation, I have a foot-fetish too.”
“You…you do?”
“Rika nodded. “A huge one! But I don’t try to deny it, or keep it hidden like some deep, dark secret. I'd love to have my feet touched and massaged like this. If you were doing this to me, by now, I’d be having my second orgasm!”
Feeney panicked. “Rika! Let me go! Now!”
“Nope. I’m having the best time I’ve had in months.”
“Please! Let me go! I don’t understand, I’ve never had these feelings before, I’m afraid of what might happen.”
“Too bad. Suffer!”
“Well, if you don’t let me go I’ll…I’ll scream for help!”
Rika grasped Feeney’s long toe and bent it backwards, Feeney gasped in pain.
“Scream, and I could break every one of your toes, and be gone from this building before anyone would lift a finger to help you!”
“You wouldn’t!!”
Rika seemed to consider this for a moment before releasing the bent toe. “No cutie, I wouldn’t. But only because I would never want to harm this adorable foot!”
Feeney relaxed.
“But I could get you fired!”
“What?” Feeney said. “How could you do that?”
Rika grinned at her. “Didn’t you recognize my last name; Rand?” Surely you know my father; Sky Rand?”
Feeney’s eyes widened in shock. “Skylar Rand? The president of the college?”
Rika nodded. “None other. And my daddy just adores his little girl, and does just anything she asks!”
Blackmail
Feeney found her position untenable. She believed that Rika was who she said she was, but didn’t think for one moment that she was really serious about getting her fired. Loosing her job would be a disaster, but having this woman spread rumors about her foot-fetish would be worse, far worse!” Besides, the massage felt wonderful and she didn’t really want it to stop. In fact, secretly, she wished that Rika would grab her other foot as well.
“Oops!” Rika said softly.
“Oops what?” Asked Feeney nervously.
“You have a rather nasty callus on your heel, and another small one on the side of your big toe.”
Feeney looked distressed. “I know! I’ve tried to get rid of them, but they keep coming right back.”
“Of course they do.” Rika said, giving Feeney an impatient look. “Know why?”
Feeney shook her head. “No, tell me spider woman.”
“Well obviously, it’s because of the cheap shoes you wear. You really need to wise up and spend some of my father’s money on a decent pair.”
“You mean like those Goth—Punk—combat boots you’re wearing?
“Shit no, with these gorgeous feet you should be showing them off by wearing sandals. But in any case, you should have them custom-made to your foot."
"Oh?"
"It’s a bit more expensive, but it’s well worth it! You’ll feel like you’re walking on a cloud, and guess what? No more calluses!”
Feeney was interested. “How…how much are we talking?”
“The boots I’m wearing—which you seem to hate to much—were twelve hundred.”
“Shit!” Feeney gasped.
“But—they were a specialty item. Not only do they fit my big feet like a glove, but they also have strong steel shackle sewn underneath the leather at the top of the ankle.”
Feeney’s eyes widened into saucers.
“Maybe you noticed the little heart-shaped locks hanging from the backs?”
Feeney had noticed, and nodded her head slowly.
Rika grinned. “They keep my feet tightly trapped inside. The key to the locks is back at my apartment, and there’s no possible way for me to get the boots off with out it!” Rika winked the green eye. “Cool huh?”
Feeney felt her nipples slowly tighten once more.
“This way, I can go about my daily business while being forced to think about my big sweaty feet being so wonderfully trapped inside my own boots.”
“Shit!” Feeney whispered. “You really do have a foot-fetish!”
“Big time!” Rika said, nodding. Then added, “Just—like—you!”
Feeney was silent for a moment as the tall woman’s fingers moved.
“How…how much for a normal pair?”
“What, without locks?” Rika teased.
“Without locks!” Feeney said.
“Most custom-made shoes are three hundred or less. A woman cobbler here in town makes all of mine. She has the most wonderful cold hard fingers! I’ll give you her address if you’d like.”
To Feeney’s delight, the massage had continued without interruption throughout their conversation. She lifted the Harp to her lips and swallowed half of the bottle. “I’d like.” She said. “But I’m afraid that right now I’ll have to stick to Wal Mart.”
Rika snorted. “A little short of cash?”
Feeney sighed. “Always.”
Rika fingers stopped for a moment as she considered something.
Then as if having made a decision, she continued the massage. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with daddy. We’ll see if he can’t come up with a slight raise for you next week.”
“You don’t have to do that Rika, You…you don’t even know me.”
Rika pointed at Feeney. “Shush!! I know what I like when I see it.” She smiled showing her sharp teeth and added, “And I really like this foot! Come to think of it; for a gazpacho soup eater, you’re not too bad either, you stand your ground.”
Feeney smiled shyly back. “Well, I guess I kinda' like you too spider woman. You’re a little weird, but for some reason, well…I just like you.”
“Kindred—soles?”
Feeney grimaced at the pun.
Rika winked an eye, this time the blue one. “It’s because we’re sister pervets. But then, come to think about it, what a great way to start a friendship!”
Feeney thought, ‘Is that what’s happening here? Are we actually becoming friends?’ She didn’t have many friends, at least close ones that she could open up to. For some reason, women, or men for that matter, had never shown an interest. Not that she was devastated by the fact. After all, she had a job that she loved and did well, and there was her sewing; she was quite good at that too. But she had never had someone who was really close to her, someone she could be totally honest with and share her problems and who could share theirs in return. Someone special.
Rika was special all right. Confident, outspoken and decidedly very strange! But despite her rudeness and bravado, Feeney found the she really liked her.
The Hostage
The waitress returned with the check and turned to leave.
“Wait.” Rika said. “How much? We’re together.”
The waitress peered down at Feeney’s bare foot trapped between Rika’s leather bound legs.
“Yeah, so I see.” She said smugly. “Eighteen sixty.”
Rika pulled a wad of money from the pocket of her pants and tossed two twenty-dollar bills onto the table. “Keep it.” She said and batted her eyes.
The waitress looked startled, and then with a big smile, thanked Rika and nodded to Feeney before disappearing, clenching the bills tightly in her hand.
“That was generous.” Feeney remarked.
“I decided to train her. Pain and pleasure, you know? The next time we come in, she’ll kiss both our ass’s trying to please us.”
Feeney laughed and shook her head. “You are absolutely unbelievable!”
“Thanks. But now I’ve got to scram. Duty calls and all that.”
Releasing her prisoner’s foot, Rika stood to leave.
“Thanks cutie.” She said warmly as she pulled on her gloves.
“For what? You paid for the lunch.”
Rika grinned. “For sharing that perfect foot with me, and for putting up with my bullshit.”
“Well, thanks for the massage, it was quite wonderful! And I enjoyed your bullshit, maybe I could use a little more of it in my life.”
“Yeah?” Rika said, surprised. She held out her hand for Feeney to take. As Feeney shook it, Rika said, “So then, does this mean that we're going to be friends?”
“I...I think maybe I’d like that.” Feeney said softly.
Rika pointed her other gloved hand at Feeney’s nose like a gun. “Don’t let me find out that you’ve left here without finishing that beer!” She added. “I’ll find out if you did, and you’ll pay dearly, trust me!” Rika released her hand and nodded once. Then turning her back, strode from the restaurant.
Feeney grinned as the two tiny locks at the top of Rika’s boots danced in merry time to her receding footsteps, and wondered if she would ever see her again.
Her foot still tingled from the touch of the strange woman’s fingers. She reached for the shoe Rika had removed, but after a moment of searching, sat back in her seat with an odd smile on her face.
Rika had stolen it.
Feeney made absolutely certain that she had finished every single drop of her beer before leaving the restaurant.
****
********************************************************
Rika
By Luckycat
Chapter one - Phoenix
Feeney sat at the two o’clock position of the largest booth in the restaurant. She’d felt guilty for taking it as it was now well into lunch hour and the place was packed. The cute little blonde at the counter had offered it like it was no big deal, and hungry, Feeney had accepted.
Glancing up from her soup, she saw several people staring at her with annoyed expressions, wondering where the other seven people were. Across the room where a waiting line had formed, five men in business suits stared at her angrily. A fat man in front turned to the man behind him and whispered something, shaking his head in disgust.
“Fuck you fatty! Fuck all of you! I’m just going just to sit right here and eat my gazpacho soup like I have all the time in the world. So just fuck off!!
Feeney shouted in her mind, and began to eat more quickly.
She often wondered at the collective intelligence of a world that ordained that everyone should eat lunch during the same one-hour period. Stupid! Almost as stupid, was the habit of keeping one of the two front restaurant doors locked so that you had to fumble to get in just to give them your money. Stupid!
‘An hour from now,” She thought. ‘I’d have the whole place to myself!’
Feeney reached to her purse and withdrew the battered novel she was reading, “Temptations of the Flesh”, a real bodice ripper. The cover was so embarrassingly pathetic that she kept it covered it with one hand so that people wouldn’t laugh at her for reading such trash. She promptly became so engrossed in the florid story that she suddenly realized that her soup was getting cold.
The Leather-clad Woman
Returning her spoon to the bowl, she glanced up see the tall figure of a woman pass by her booth, no doubt on the way to the ladies room at the rear of the restaurant.
Feeney’s spoon paused on its way to her mouth as she took in the black spandex turtleneck top and tight-fitting black leather pants. The pants descended to mid-calf, and were so incredibly snug that Feeney wondered how the woman had been able to get into them at all.
The woman’s feet were shod in a heavy pair of shiny black combat boots with two-inch high soles and ass-kicking metal covered toes. Completing her ensemble, were fingerless black leather gloves.
‘A curious outfit for a warm day in October,’ Feeney mused.
As the woman passed, she suddenly stopped in mid stride. Feeney couldn’t but fail to notice the perfect, toned shape of her body, and how the leather pants put such a fine point on it.
Turning, the woman met her eyes and stared boldly back. Her face was strikingly beautiful. With the exception of violet eye shadow, she wore no make-up at all. Her pale face was framed by raven-black hair that was cut daringly short, being buzzed almost to the skin at the sides of her head, while the top spiked forward.
She reminded Feeney of some dangerous, hungry lizard.
But of all her remarkable features, her eyes were the most amazing things of all. One was ice blue, while the other was a true cat-green. Both were piercing.
The woman moved towards Feeney wearing a quizzical, bemused smile. But until she stood beside the booth, Feeney had had no idea just how extraordinarily tall the woman actually was. Even allowing for the thick soles of her boots she must be…
“Six foot two.” The woman said in a rich alto voice.
“Excuse me?” Feeney said.
“That’s the answer to the first stupid question that most people usually ask.”
Feeney smiled shyly.
“The second’s even worse; how’s the weather up there?”
Feeney said, “Then you should pretend to spit on them, and say ‘It’s raining.’”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, then she grinned. “I like you, you’ve got pluck!”
“Thanks, but actually…I was going to ask you a different question.”
The woman’s face tightened. “Yeah? And what was that cutie?”
Feeney glanced away, and then bravely met the tall woman’s eyes before once more having to avoid their knife-like stare.
“I…I was wondering how you ever managed to fit into those pants.”
The woman gave a short laugh and grinned to reveal perfect sharp white teeth.
“I know you, don’t I?”
Feeney shrugged. “Maybe. I work at the college.”
“Oh?” The woman looked interested. “Which department?”
“Student loans. I’ve been there for two years now.”
The woman snapped her gloved fingers and pointed her hand at Feeney like a slender black gun.
“You work for Tom Corbin?”
Feeney nodded. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“Not really. Hey, excuse me cutie, but I really need to pee!”
Turning, the woman strode quickly towards the restroom.
“What a strange one.” Feeney mussed to herself as she brought the spoon to her mouth. “Beautiful, but kinda scary.”
Rika
Three minutes later the woman turned the corner and moved to slide in beside Feeney—uninvited.
Picking up the plastic covered menu that sat wedged between the napkins and the salt and peppershaker, she buried her nose for a moment before lowering it again to meet Feeney’s gray eyes. “Name’s Rika. Got a boy friend?”
Feeney shook her head.
Rika grinned, apparently liking the answer. “What’s yours?” She asked returning to the menu.
“Mine?” Feeney asked.
“Your name cutie, you do have one don’t you?” Rika said without looking up.
“Feeney, with an F.”
The two eyes burned into her. “Feeney? Is it short for something?
“For Phoenix, but nobody calls me that, just Feeney.”
“Shame. Phoenix is a knockout! That’s the bird that arises from its own ashes, like in that Harry Potter movie.”
Feeney smiled and nodded.
“Well I’m going to call you Phoenix. It fits you better.”
Feeney shrugged. “Suit yourself, but like I said, everybody…”
“I’m not everybody! I’m Rika. And your name is now Phoenix! Period!”
“Phoenix will do fine.” Feeney said, caving to the woman’s strong will.
Rika made a sour face. “Mine’s actually Erika, but if you ever call me that, I’ll hog-tie you and beat the soles of your feet until you can’t walk!”
Feeney felt the smallest twinge of erotic pleasure as her nipples tightened for a brief second. She smiled nervously, but the tall woman didn’t return it.
A waitress approached carrying a glass of water and some utensils wrapped in a paper napkin. Setting them down hard in front of Rika she said, “Will there just be the two of you today?” She was apparently annoyed that she would be losing the large tips that the big booth usually generated during lunchtime.
“No.” Rika said looking up with a smirk. “I have a bus load of senior citizens outside on their way in. They’ll all be needing separate checks.”
“Cute.” The waitress said blandly, raising her pencil and check pad.
“They don’t tip either.” Rika added grinning.
A frown tugged at the corners of the waitress’s mouth. “Real cute! May I please have your order?”
“I’ll have the sirloin special, medium rare.”
“Side dishes?” The waitress asked.
“No damned potatoes! Just veggies. And a salad, blue cheese.”
“To drink?”
“Beer. Harp or Killian’s.”
“We have Harp lager.”
Rika nodded. “In a wine glass, a Bourdot, if you have one in this joint.
The waitress smirked. “I think that we can accommodate ‘Madame.’”
“Thanks.” Rika said, and handed the menu back to her.
As the waitress disappeared to place the order, Feeney whispered, “Are you always so demanding?”
“Always.” Rika said, scowling at Feeney’s hair.
Feeney touched a hand to the side of her head. “Don’t you like my new haircut? I just had it done yesterday, they took off almost eight inches.”
Rika snapped her gloved fingers again. “Now I remember you! You’re the one with the Veronica Lake hair.”
“Excuse me?”
“The actress from the thirties, she had blonde hair clear down to her ass.”
Feeney shook her head. “Sorry, don’t know her. And my hair’s auburn.”
“Why did you stop so short?” Rika said still scowling.
“Excuse me?”
“Turn your head and lift your up hair.”
Feeney swallowed, but did as she was told.
Rika nodded. “See, you have perfect small ears and a beautiful face. Why hide it behind that awful mop of hair? Who the hell did that to you? I’d be looking for a new stylist, right after I tortured the one who did that to my hair!”
Feeney smiled timidly, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. “So then, I take it you don’t like my hair?” She said, and made a pouting face.
“I hate it.” Rika said matter-of-factly. “It makes you look like a frump. No wonder you don’t have a boy friend.”
Feeney blushed. “You certainly don’t mince words Rika.”
Rika nodded as the Waitress dropped off her beer and wine glass.
“Never have. Pisses people off too. But then, I like pissing people off.”
“Oh?”
“Sure, that way you know where you stand with them.” Rika added. “You should go blonde, you’d make a really hot blonde!”
Feeney’s blush deepened. “Thanks, I’ll think about it. Maybe next time…”
“Don’t think about it, do it!” Rika said hotly. “Don’t be like most people who sit on their asses their entire life waiting for something fun to happen. Follow your own wildest desires! Make some fun happen for yourself, or one day you’ll kick yourself in the ass for having let life pass you by.”
Spider Woman
“That’s an interesting philosophy Rika, but…”
“But nothing! How do you expect to attract a fly into your web if you don’t offer it a little sugar?”
Feeney giggled. “Spiders don’t use sugar Rika.”
Rika smiled back and shrugged. “Well maybe not, but they should!” Rika took a long sip of beer and went on. “You know, I have a theory about spiders cutie, would you care to hear it?”
Feeney had no idea what to make of this outspoken leather-clad woman. But suddenly, she realized that for the first time in months, she was actually enjoying having a conversation with someone, someone who was very much different from her.
Way different.
“Spiders? Sure.” Feeney said, curious.
“Most people think that a bug just flies into the spider’s web because he’s too stupid to see it, and gets stuck.”
“But isn’t that why they call it a trap?” Feeney said.
Rika shook her head. “Bugs have thousands of eyes, and they aren’t stupid! Ever try to catch a fly? Trust me, he can see that web just fine.”
“Then why does he get trapped and eaten?”
Rika’s eyes sparkled as she took a sip of her beer and then bent forward in her seat. “Because he’s fatally attracted by the sheer evil of the spider! The same way people are attracted to stories of brutal murders and rapes. The same way that women fall for guys like Charlie Manson.”
Feeney squinted skeptically. “So…bugs—want—to get eaten?”
“Maybe not eaten,” Rika said with a wicked grin. “But maybe they’re tempted by the thought of being so tightly wrapped up in that strong silk, and struggling helplessly while the spider slowly sucks em dry!”
“Yuck!” Feeney said and shuddered. “You make the bugs sound like perverts.”
“Maybe they are perverts.” Rika said warming to her subject. “Many animals perform acts that we call perversion. Giraffes, penguins, sheep, bats, dolphins, even dragon flies have shown transgender and homosexual behavior.”
“Really?” Feeney asked, surprised.
Rika nodded. “Sure, just look at us humans. We have so many interesting little perversions that we can’t even keep track of them all.”
“Well—I suppose.” Feeney said hesitantly.
“Scratch the surface of any man or woman who is supposedly ‘normal’ and you’ll find a person that has at least some small fetish, or taste for something slightly bizarre.”
“So…then, what you’re saying is that all bugs are perverted, and want to experience being put into bondage by a spider?”
Rika shrugged. “Well, maybe not all of them, just the lucky ones!” She winked the blue eye.
Feeney smiled and sat up straight. She Rolled her head around her neck to be rewarded with several loud cracks. “That’s an interesting theory Rika, but sorry, I don’t buy it. At least the part about people I mean. Most people are normal—like me.”
“Yeah? Well to me normal is just another word for boring.” Rika said coolly. “And I can’t imagine that you’re boring. Not with that tight little body.”
Feeney met Rika’s intense stare. “Thanks for the compliment, I’m glad that somebody finally noticed. I try to stay in shape.”
“Maybe in some ways.” Rika said cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
Rika ignored this. “Wanna play a little game?”
Feeney shrugged. “Maybe. What kind of game?”
“One that might prove to you that you’re not quite as normal as you think you are.” Rika added. “Unless of course…you have something to hide.”
“I don’t have anything to hide.” Feeney said matter of factly.
“Okay, then play. It won’t hurt, it’s only a bunch or questions that I ask.”
“Shoot!” Feeney said, determined to prove the tall woman wrong.
“Look into my eyes, and try not to blink after I ask each question. Understand?”
“Sure.” Feeney said, steeling herself. “Go!”
Gotcha!
Rika glanced upward at the ceiling, narrowing her multi-colored eyes in thought. Then locking them on Feeney’s, she began her game.
“Imagine someone’s lips lightly brushing across your own, sweetly and seductively.”
“Whose lips?” Feeney asked.
Rika rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter whose lips, anybody’s, the most fucking handsome man in the world! Use your imagination, but don’t talk, or I can’t do this.”
“Okay, sorry.” Feeney said apologetically.
“Al right then, Let’s start over. Try to imagine those lips.”
Rika stared intently into Feeney’s gray eyes for a moment before moving on.
“Now, imagine a finger pushing slowly inside your vagina.”
Feeney wanted to smile, but forced herself to stare unblinking into Rika’s eyes.
“Imagine that the finger has now found your clit, and is beginning to stroke it.”
Feeney suppressed a giggle.
“Now imagine lips surrounding the nipple of your breast, while a smooth wet tongue begins to lap at it.”
Feeney continued to stare into the piercing eyes.
“Now imagine a finger softly stoking your anus.”
“How softly?” Feeney said and gave a single giggle.
“Shut up! Now imagine a finger running slowly along the sole of you foot.”
“Stop, That tickles!” Feeney said and began to laugh.”
Instead of being scolded once more, Rika smiled and sat back in her seat. “Gotcha!” She said with a satisfied smile.
Feeney looked startled. “Got what? What so you mean? Got what?”
The waitress appeared and presented Rika with her steak.
“Will there be anything else—Madame?”
“Yea, a doggie bag for your head, and a Harp for my friend here.”
The waitress stormed off.
“Thanks Rika, but I don’t drink beer.”
Rika grinned showing the sharp teeth. “Now you do!” She said, and tore into the steak as though she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Are you always this rude to people?” Feeney asked.
Rika nodded and took another bite of steak. “Always, especially if they deserve it, like her sorry ass does.” She waved a hand in the waitress’s direction.
Feeney laughed despite herself. “Well, she was a bit-discourteous.”
“Fuck her.” Rika said dismissively, if she was half as smart as she thinks she is, she’d be sitting at home on her skinny ass collecting welfare like twenty million other losers.”
“Shame on you Rika!” Feeney said still laughing. “Welfare is to provide funds for the disenfranchised poor, and to help the children.”
Rika rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “Think so? Then let me fill you in cutie. What welfare really does, is provide an endless stream of money—our money—for a bunch of lazy shits to buy cigarettes, booze and lottery tickets. The poor kids just usually get stiffed!"
“You are absolutely outrageous!” Feeney said, wide-eyed.”
Rika nodded in agreement. “Thanks. And I’m usually right too.”
Feeney held up a palm. “Stop. Tell me about this stupid game. Why did you say ‘Gotcha?’ Explain!”
Rika shook her head. “Nope, wait. I’m eating.”
Feeney crossed both arms across her chest and watched as the steak was literally devoured in less than two minute’s time. As Rika was finishing off the last off her carrots and broccoli, the waitress returned and slammed a Harp and a Bourdot onto the table. She was gone before Feeney could look up.
“Okay.” Rika said, pushing her plate away. “The game.”
“Yes?”
“You have a foot-fetish.” Rika said matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?” Feeney said indignantly.
Rika looked at her and grinned. “You say that a lot don’t you?”
“Well…I…”
“What I said…was that you have a strong foot-fetish, and although that’s not very unusual, it does mean that you’re not was is technically known as ‘normal.’”
“So, you think I’m some kind of pervert—like your bondage loving bugs?”
Rika nodded. “Exactly. Only you prefer feet to spider lairs.”
“That’s bullshit Rika!” Feeney said angrily.
“What? Was that a curse word I just heard? Shame on you cutie, please respect my virgin ears.” Rika grinned.
“Right.” Feeney said. “My humblest apologies. Now give!”
Rika wiped her wide, sensual lips with a paper napkin. “Okay, here’s how it works. I asked a few specific questions that were meant to be…sexually suggestive.”
“I’d have said vulgar, but please go on.” Feeney interjected.
“And-after I asked each question, I carefully observed the pupils of your eyes to see if they dilated.”
“Which means?”
“They get bigger.”
Feeney blew out a breath. “I know what dilate means. What do you mean?”
“I mean…that if I had struck a nerve, and said something that you were afraid, or ashamed of, it meant that you had an inordinate interest in that particular act, or part of your body.”
“And?”
“And…when I mentioned someone stroking the sole of your foot, the black dots in the center of your beautiful gray eyes nearly exploded!”
“Bullshit!”
Rika held her hands in the “I surrender” pose. “The eyes don’t lie cutie; you’ve been exposed. You’ve got one powerful thing for feet—Care to deny it?” Rika leaned on the table supporting her chin with palms of her hands. She grinned as her green and blue eyes bore into Feeney’s.
Feeney bit her lip and pouted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about you…you…you tall leather spider pervert!” Feeney laughed nervously
“No?” Rika said with an evil tone. “Well, know what I think? I think that you’re lying to me!”
“Am not!”
“Little liar!”
“Am not!” Feeney stuck out her tongue.
“Liar—liar—liar!” Rika sung.
Feeney crossed her arms. “No one can read a persons secret desires by simply looking at their eyes Miss…ah…what did you say you last name is?”
“Rand. It’s Rika Rand. And you’re wrong, I can! Want me to prove it?”
Feeney blew out a small breath. “You can’t prove something like that!”
Rika lowered her hands down into her lap and leaned forward across the table so that her face was inches from Feeney’s “Wanna-bet?”
Captive
Feeney felt a gloved hand surround her right ankle. Before she could react, her leg had been lifted so that her foot was held tightly in Rika’s lap.
“Hey!” Feeney said, trying to free her foot. “What are you doing?”
“Proving my point.” Rika said.
“Let go!” Feeney said, tugging her foot. But Rika’s hands possessed incredible strength and held the foot tightly locked in place.
“Stop struggling cutie, relax. I won’t bite you. I just want to help you to find the truth about yourself. It’s out there you know?” She smiled.
Feeney stopped struggling and looked around the restaurant nervously to see if anyone was watching, but the other diners all seemed busy with their food and conversations, no one was paying them the slightest notice.
“Let’s just have a little look at the object of our—affection—shall we?” Rika said, and slid the brown loafer from Feeney’s foot, placing it beside her on the seat, well out of Feeney’s reach.
Rika sat back in the seat and pulled Feeney’s leg straight out. As she stared down into her lap she began to grin from ear to ear. “Oh my!!” One leather-clad hand held her foot trapped while the other twisted it back and forth as Rika’s multi-colored eyes took in every part of it.
Looking up in surprise, Rika said, “Why the hell have you been hiding these beautiful feet inside those ugly shoes?”
Feeney blinked and gripped the edge of the table. “You…you think my feet are…Okay?” She asked, unsure whether to be pissed-off or flattered.
“Okay?” Rika said, and dropped her jaw. “They’re absolutely scrumptious!”
“They’re kinda big.” Feeney began to blush. “No—they’re really big!”
Rika looked back down and nodded. “Tens, A-width.”
“How…how did you know that?” Feeney asked in surprise. “Do you work in a shoe store or something?”
Rika smiled evilly. “No, let’s just say that I have special—interest—in feet.”
“Well, I'm really glad you approve of my foot, now…now let it go!” Feeney said.
Rika ignored her, and looked up to meet Feeney’s eyes with a sharp hungry look that was almost frightening.
“This is exceptional. I’ve never such a perfect foot in my entire life. A nice round heel, a smooth sole, and wonderfully long toes with stunning nails. I’m really quite impressed!”
“Thanks. Now let it go!”
“No.” Rika said calmly and bent to inspect the foot once again. “Is the other foot as scrumptious as this one?”
“It’s exactly the same, only the big toe’s on the other side.”
“Funny.” Rika said without smiling. “I wonder…”
Rika quickly raised her left leg and crossed it over Feeney’s ankle, further trapping it. Straightening in her seat, she quickly removed her leather gloves. Placing them on the table, she reached down to her lap, and while holding Feeney's foot by the heel with one hand, she gently moved the tips of the fingers of her other hand slowly along the sole.
Feeney’s leg bucked. “Be careful Rika! I’m really ticklish!!”
“Oh I’m so sorry!” Rika said without one ounce of repentance in her voice. “You have my complete sympathy. I’m incredibly ticklish too, especially in the morning, when my feet are dry and hard!”
The fingers had begun to gently massage the foot.
“You mustn’t be embarrassed by having large feet you know. Mine are much bigger, size twelve C’s. But the larger the foot, the more the fun, right?”
Despite the awkward position Feeney now found herself, she had to admit that what Rika was doing to her foot was maddeningly wonderful. The strange woman’s fingers seemed to have a gift. Feeney sighed with pleasure as they slowly kneaded every part of her sole.
“You’re…you’re pretty good at that.” Feeney said. “At massage I mean.”
“Thanks cutie. It’s another passion on mine. I have lots of passions, but I’m afraid that you might find some of them just a little bizarre!”
Feeney sighed again and squirmed her toes.
“It’s a shame that in this joint, I can’t give this tootsie the attention it deserves.”
Reminded of where she was, Feeney looked around once more to make sure that she and her companion were still being ignored.
The restaurant was beginning to empty. A line had formed at the check-out counter and the little blonde was taking the patrons money, ringing the cash register as fast as she could.
“The skin on the sole of your foot is like silk!” Rika said, licking her lips with her tongue.
The massage was both relaxing and strangely exciting at the same time. Possessing such sensitive feet had always been a big problem for Feeney, and she had always strictly forbidden anyone to touch them, even during lovemaking. Now, for some strange reason, having her foot held against her will seemed to increase both its sensitivity and her pleasure at the tall woman’s touch. As Rika’s fingers continued to move, Feeney became aware that a tightness, a vague desire, had begun to stir within her groin. She was becoming aroused.
“Ah ha!” Rika said staring at Feeney’s chest. “Gotcha again!!”
“What?” Feeney said and quickly lowered her head to see that her nipples were tightly raised beneath her blouse.
“Shit!” She said, and once more tried unsuccessfully to free the trapped foot.
Rika winked at her. “‘Normal’ people only like having their feet rubbed, it doesn’t turn them on. Sorry cutie, but I just proved my case; you’re a pervert!”
Feeney met Rika’s eyes bravely but she couldn’t seem to form words. There was nothing that she could say, her own body had betrayed her, and there was no possible defense.
She knew that she had always had a special interest in her own feet, and they had figured prominently in her dreams and fantasies. But she had ignored this as a minor human quirk, and mentally had refused to acknowledge that it had any real importance to her sexual balance. She hated this strange woman for making a fool of her, and discovering in only minutes something she had managed to keep hidden from other people her entire life. She wanted free, but strangely, she didn’t also want Rika to stop.
Rika had begun to pull on each of her toes, stretching them, tugging at them delightfully. “What’s the matter?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m…embarrassed.” Feeney said softly.
“Rika shook her head. “Don’t be. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what God has given you to take pleasure in.” She stared into Feeney’s eyes as she tugged at her little toe. “But if it’s any consolation, I have a foot-fetish too.”
“You…you do?”
“Rika nodded. “A huge one! But I don’t try to deny it, or keep it hidden like some deep, dark secret. I'd love to have my feet touched and massaged like this. If you were doing this to me, by now, I’d be having my second orgasm!”
Feeney panicked. “Rika! Let me go! Now!”
“Nope. I’m having the best time I’ve had in months.”
“Please! Let me go! I don’t understand, I’ve never had these feelings before, I’m afraid of what might happen.”
“Too bad. Suffer!”
“Well, if you don’t let me go I’ll…I’ll scream for help!”
Rika grasped Feeney’s long toe and bent it backwards, Feeney gasped in pain.
“Scream, and I could break every one of your toes, and be gone from this building before anyone would lift a finger to help you!”
“You wouldn’t!!”
Rika seemed to consider this for a moment before releasing the bent toe. “No cutie, I wouldn’t. But only because I would never want to harm this adorable foot!”
Feeney relaxed.
“But I could get you fired!”
“What?” Feeney said. “How could you do that?”
Rika grinned at her. “Didn’t you recognize my last name; Rand?” Surely you know my father; Sky Rand?”
Feeney’s eyes widened in shock. “Skylar Rand? The president of the college?”
Rika nodded. “None other. And my daddy just adores his little girl, and does just anything she asks!”
Blackmail
Feeney found her position untenable. She believed that Rika was who she said she was, but didn’t think for one moment that she was really serious about getting her fired. Loosing her job would be a disaster, but having this woman spread rumors about her foot-fetish would be worse, far worse!” Besides, the massage felt wonderful and she didn’t really want it to stop. In fact, secretly, she wished that Rika would grab her other foot as well.
“Oops!” Rika said softly.
“Oops what?” Asked Feeney nervously.
“You have a rather nasty callus on your heel, and another small one on the side of your big toe.”
Feeney looked distressed. “I know! I’ve tried to get rid of them, but they keep coming right back.”
“Of course they do.” Rika said, giving Feeney an impatient look. “Know why?”
Feeney shook her head. “No, tell me spider woman.”
“Well obviously, it’s because of the cheap shoes you wear. You really need to wise up and spend some of my father’s money on a decent pair.”
“You mean like those Goth—Punk—combat boots you’re wearing?
“Shit no, with these gorgeous feet you should be showing them off by wearing sandals. But in any case, you should have them custom-made to your foot."
"Oh?"
"It’s a bit more expensive, but it’s well worth it! You’ll feel like you’re walking on a cloud, and guess what? No more calluses!”
Feeney was interested. “How…how much are we talking?”
“The boots I’m wearing—which you seem to hate to much—were twelve hundred.”
“Shit!” Feeney gasped.
“But—they were a specialty item. Not only do they fit my big feet like a glove, but they also have strong steel shackle sewn underneath the leather at the top of the ankle.”
Feeney’s eyes widened into saucers.
“Maybe you noticed the little heart-shaped locks hanging from the backs?”
Feeney had noticed, and nodded her head slowly.
Rika grinned. “They keep my feet tightly trapped inside. The key to the locks is back at my apartment, and there’s no possible way for me to get the boots off with out it!” Rika winked the green eye. “Cool huh?”
Feeney felt her nipples slowly tighten once more.
“This way, I can go about my daily business while being forced to think about my big sweaty feet being so wonderfully trapped inside my own boots.”
“Shit!” Feeney whispered. “You really do have a foot-fetish!”
“Big time!” Rika said, nodding. Then added, “Just—like—you!”
Feeney was silent for a moment as the tall woman’s fingers moved.
“How…how much for a normal pair?”
“What, without locks?” Rika teased.
“Without locks!” Feeney said.
“Most custom-made shoes are three hundred or less. A woman cobbler here in town makes all of mine. She has the most wonderful cold hard fingers! I’ll give you her address if you’d like.”
To Feeney’s delight, the massage had continued without interruption throughout their conversation. She lifted the Harp to her lips and swallowed half of the bottle. “I’d like.” She said. “But I’m afraid that right now I’ll have to stick to Wal Mart.”
Rika snorted. “A little short of cash?”
Feeney sighed. “Always.”
Rika fingers stopped for a moment as she considered something.
Then as if having made a decision, she continued the massage. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with daddy. We’ll see if he can’t come up with a slight raise for you next week.”
“You don’t have to do that Rika, You…you don’t even know me.”
Rika pointed at Feeney. “Shush!! I know what I like when I see it.” She smiled showing her sharp teeth and added, “And I really like this foot! Come to think of it; for a gazpacho soup eater, you’re not too bad either, you stand your ground.”
Feeney smiled shyly back. “Well, I guess I kinda' like you too spider woman. You’re a little weird, but for some reason, well…I just like you.”
“Kindred—soles?”
Feeney grimaced at the pun.
Rika winked an eye, this time the blue one. “It’s because we’re sister pervets. But then, come to think about it, what a great way to start a friendship!”
Feeney thought, ‘Is that what’s happening here? Are we actually becoming friends?’ She didn’t have many friends, at least close ones that she could open up to. For some reason, women, or men for that matter, had never shown an interest. Not that she was devastated by the fact. After all, she had a job that she loved and did well, and there was her sewing; she was quite good at that too. But she had never had someone who was really close to her, someone she could be totally honest with and share her problems and who could share theirs in return. Someone special.
Rika was special all right. Confident, outspoken and decidedly very strange! But despite her rudeness and bravado, Feeney found the she really liked her.
The Hostage
The waitress returned with the check and turned to leave.
“Wait.” Rika said. “How much? We’re together.”
The waitress peered down at Feeney’s bare foot trapped between Rika’s leather bound legs.
“Yeah, so I see.” She said smugly. “Eighteen sixty.”
Rika pulled a wad of money from the pocket of her pants and tossed two twenty-dollar bills onto the table. “Keep it.” She said and batted her eyes.
The waitress looked startled, and then with a big smile, thanked Rika and nodded to Feeney before disappearing, clenching the bills tightly in her hand.
“That was generous.” Feeney remarked.
“I decided to train her. Pain and pleasure, you know? The next time we come in, she’ll kiss both our ass’s trying to please us.”
Feeney laughed and shook her head. “You are absolutely unbelievable!”
“Thanks. But now I’ve got to scram. Duty calls and all that.”
Releasing her prisoner’s foot, Rika stood to leave.
“Thanks cutie.” She said warmly as she pulled on her gloves.
“For what? You paid for the lunch.”
Rika grinned. “For sharing that perfect foot with me, and for putting up with my bullshit.”
“Well, thanks for the massage, it was quite wonderful! And I enjoyed your bullshit, maybe I could use a little more of it in my life.”
“Yeah?” Rika said, surprised. She held out her hand for Feeney to take. As Feeney shook it, Rika said, “So then, does this mean that we're going to be friends?”
“I...I think maybe I’d like that.” Feeney said softly.
Rika pointed her other gloved hand at Feeney’s nose like a gun. “Don’t let me find out that you’ve left here without finishing that beer!” She added. “I’ll find out if you did, and you’ll pay dearly, trust me!” Rika released her hand and nodded once. Then turning her back, strode from the restaurant.
Feeney grinned as the two tiny locks at the top of Rika’s boots danced in merry time to her receding footsteps, and wondered if she would ever see her again.
Her foot still tingled from the touch of the strange woman’s fingers. She reached for the shoe Rika had removed, but after a moment of searching, sat back in her seat with an odd smile on her face.
Rika had stolen it.
Feeney made absolutely certain that she had finished every single drop of her beer before leaving the restaurant.
****
