Okay. One last story. My previous characters are retired. I'm using a new older woman character who has elements of Ruby and Violetta in her, but she is otherwise completely her own character. I've toyed with the idea of this story for a few years now, and I figure why not just get it down. This is definitely the last one. Please feel free to leave feedback. I enjoy reading your comments.
As always, the male character is generic, so that male readers may imagine themselves in the story. All characters are over 18 years old. Enjoy!
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It was a typical night for one person at the strip club. You see that muscular brunette over there? She's standing 4'11 in the purple string bikini? The one with her dark brown hair in a braid, olive skin, and a naturally large chest almost contradicting her frame? That's Janine. She's actually not one of the dancers. She owns the place. Why would a female strip club owner go seemingly undercover amongst her own dancers?
As she hit her early 50s, Janine had sort of a midlife crisis. She was gifted with a natural athlete's body. She put it to use by competing in amateur MMA tournaments, which she frequently won. You would think she'd want to go pro after this, but reaching middle age, none of the pro fight leagues wanted to touch her. It was a blessing in disguise. Janine had a secret that was bound to be exposed, had she been in the limelight.
She had a MAJOR foot fetish. Janine would be as comfortable suckling toes, as anyone else would be sucking on hard candy. Over time, she realized normal relationships weren't for her. Sex was easy to come by, whenever she felt the need. However, what she really wanted was a pair of feet to call her own; to do with as she desired. So, she used her tourney winnings to buy up a strip joint in New England. At first, she would use her power of being the boss to proposition her own female dancers. Feet were feet, she figured, no matter the gender. She could mold them into however she saw fit. However, the creeped-out rejection would lead to a hasty exit. She could make up official reasons why any girls left, but she couldnt afford to keep losing dancers. So, Janine donned a skimpy outfit and set out amongst the customers. The patrons always mistook her for a teenager, till they saw the age in her face, up close.
******
On this night, Janine kept her eye on one young, handsome man, at least 21 years old. Through her super-power of eavesdropping, she learned that he came to her club from out of state, as part of a larger bachelor party. His buddies were all enjoying themselves at the main stage, whereas he, through shyness or inexperience, hung back by the bar. Having her target acquired, she sidled up to him.
"Oh, uh...No thank you...not --" He stammered.
"Relax," she flirted by undoing a button or two on his shirt. She reached in and scratched his chest. He jumped and tittered. Ticklish, good. "You don't need to buy me a drink. I just thought I could talk to you."
He knew that this was part of a stripper's game. He would try to keep on his guard.
Janine got him talking, and little by little, he opened up. Sure enough, the scene in the club was too much for him. He was only here for a friend about to be married. However, at their shared interest in MMA, his guard came right down.
"I won a few tournaments when I was younger," she white-lied. "I bet I can even take you!"
Although he was of average build, his comparative height gave him confidence.
"Oh, I don't know," he awkwardly chuckled. "Maybe I --"
Janine grabbed him up in a headlock, and frog-marched him away. Everyone else was too distracted to notice or care. She led him to a basement door, and forced him carefully down the stairs, locking up behind her.
They were in Janine's own She-Cave. Among other things, it had a little bar setup, a pedicure chair, soundproofed walls, and the focal point of the room, an old school blue crash mat. This was the lair she was working on in preperation to find her eventual victim. She let go of him.
"Wow," he whistled. "Is this a lounge for you girls to hang out in, on breaks?"
"Uh... Something like that," she replied. "Okay, the mat's right there. But first, you can't fight in those nice clothes. Let me just go into that trunk over there. That's where we keep workout shorts." He undressed to his boxer briefs.
"Oh, damn!" Janine feigned surprise. "I forgot. This trunk only has thongs and panties. Oh well. It's just us here --"
"W-wait!" He tried to stall, uncomfortable. "Can't I fight in my boxer briefs?"
"Absolutely not. Nothing personal. It's just a hygiene issue. At least I know all these panties are clean. In fact..."
She came at him, and with pure biceps strength, she tore his underwear from his body. Janine read the size on one of the tatters before tossing it away. She went to the trunk and picked out a frilly pink panty in his size.
"Just wear this. It'll be fine. Here, if it makes you feel any better..." She untied her top and threw it behind the bar. Staring at her large chest with the chocolate-brown nipples was enough motivation to change into his 'gear'.
"Don't worry...it's just us down here. No one else will see you." Janine stated, conveniently forgetting the closed circuit camera that fed footage to her phone.
Finally, they faced each other on the mat. Anyone else might have gotten on their knees to match Janine's height, but the young man thought he could surprise her.
As Janine said 'Go', her opponent threw a kick. Janine was quick enough to grab his ankle in mid-air, and locked her hand in a vice grip around it. He stood, hopping on one foot. He saw her manicure from her other hand come down towards his sole, and he started to beg...
"OH...Nononono...HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
He couldn't maintain any sense of balance. He fell to the mat, and she quickly tied him into a figure four leglock. Janine cursed herself for not being prepared with any reachable edible toppings, so she kept vigorously stroking his feet until he was at least too weak to escape. She tried suckling both his big toes.
"WAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
No good. It needs flavor.
Once he could no longer struggle, Janine retrieved a bottle of chocolate syrup. She unscrewed the cap and poured it onto his soles and toes. Once drenched, Janine went to town. She was in her happy place.
"HAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHOHOHOHO..."
Oh, yes... These are my feet!
By the time she licked and sucked the feet clean, the young man was long knocked out, but breathing. Janine Fireperson-carried him over to her pedicure chair and set him in it. At first, she rinsed his feet with soapy water to make sure all the chocolate was washed off. She prepared some pink nail polish, then went to grab some smelling salts and a ball gag.
She rudely awoke him with the salts. Once he got his bearings, she surprised him with the sight of the nail polish.
Now panicked, and cursing his own naivete, he tried to beg and reason all over again.
"Nail polish?!?!? Let me out! This is illegal! HEL--HAHAHA!"
Janine shut him up with a pumice stone to the sole. Then she plugged his nose. He fought hard, but breathing was too important. Once he opened his jaw, she stuffed and secured the ball gag firmly inside.
Despite not being able to talk too well, the young man garbled a protest over having his toes polished. Janine didn't care. She was too busy with her new toys. Finally, his stubbornness got the better of him and he wore himself into unconsciousness yet again.
It was at this point Janine decided to step outside for some fresh air. She braced the back door, so it wouldn't lock behind her. It was then, that she heard some commotion in the alley. It was the young man's friends. It was now after the club was closed, and his party was leaving. Janine listened intently.
"Hey, wait.. aren't we missing one?"
"Ah, he probably got lucky. It's late. He's heard of Uber."
"From here? We came from over an hour away!"
"He snoozes, he lost..."
Janine snickered and shut the door. She did it. Janine's new toys would delight her for many years. Photos of them would be famous in fetish magazines for even longer.
THE END
As always, the male character is generic, so that male readers may imagine themselves in the story. All characters are over 18 years old. Enjoy!
----------------
It was a typical night for one person at the strip club. You see that muscular brunette over there? She's standing 4'11 in the purple string bikini? The one with her dark brown hair in a braid, olive skin, and a naturally large chest almost contradicting her frame? That's Janine. She's actually not one of the dancers. She owns the place. Why would a female strip club owner go seemingly undercover amongst her own dancers?
As she hit her early 50s, Janine had sort of a midlife crisis. She was gifted with a natural athlete's body. She put it to use by competing in amateur MMA tournaments, which she frequently won. You would think she'd want to go pro after this, but reaching middle age, none of the pro fight leagues wanted to touch her. It was a blessing in disguise. Janine had a secret that was bound to be exposed, had she been in the limelight.
She had a MAJOR foot fetish. Janine would be as comfortable suckling toes, as anyone else would be sucking on hard candy. Over time, she realized normal relationships weren't for her. Sex was easy to come by, whenever she felt the need. However, what she really wanted was a pair of feet to call her own; to do with as she desired. So, she used her tourney winnings to buy up a strip joint in New England. At first, she would use her power of being the boss to proposition her own female dancers. Feet were feet, she figured, no matter the gender. She could mold them into however she saw fit. However, the creeped-out rejection would lead to a hasty exit. She could make up official reasons why any girls left, but she couldnt afford to keep losing dancers. So, Janine donned a skimpy outfit and set out amongst the customers. The patrons always mistook her for a teenager, till they saw the age in her face, up close.
******
On this night, Janine kept her eye on one young, handsome man, at least 21 years old. Through her super-power of eavesdropping, she learned that he came to her club from out of state, as part of a larger bachelor party. His buddies were all enjoying themselves at the main stage, whereas he, through shyness or inexperience, hung back by the bar. Having her target acquired, she sidled up to him.
"Oh, uh...No thank you...not --" He stammered.
"Relax," she flirted by undoing a button or two on his shirt. She reached in and scratched his chest. He jumped and tittered. Ticklish, good. "You don't need to buy me a drink. I just thought I could talk to you."
He knew that this was part of a stripper's game. He would try to keep on his guard.
Janine got him talking, and little by little, he opened up. Sure enough, the scene in the club was too much for him. He was only here for a friend about to be married. However, at their shared interest in MMA, his guard came right down.
"I won a few tournaments when I was younger," she white-lied. "I bet I can even take you!"
Although he was of average build, his comparative height gave him confidence.
"Oh, I don't know," he awkwardly chuckled. "Maybe I --"
Janine grabbed him up in a headlock, and frog-marched him away. Everyone else was too distracted to notice or care. She led him to a basement door, and forced him carefully down the stairs, locking up behind her.
They were in Janine's own She-Cave. Among other things, it had a little bar setup, a pedicure chair, soundproofed walls, and the focal point of the room, an old school blue crash mat. This was the lair she was working on in preperation to find her eventual victim. She let go of him.
"Wow," he whistled. "Is this a lounge for you girls to hang out in, on breaks?"
"Uh... Something like that," she replied. "Okay, the mat's right there. But first, you can't fight in those nice clothes. Let me just go into that trunk over there. That's where we keep workout shorts." He undressed to his boxer briefs.
"Oh, damn!" Janine feigned surprise. "I forgot. This trunk only has thongs and panties. Oh well. It's just us here --"
"W-wait!" He tried to stall, uncomfortable. "Can't I fight in my boxer briefs?"
"Absolutely not. Nothing personal. It's just a hygiene issue. At least I know all these panties are clean. In fact..."
She came at him, and with pure biceps strength, she tore his underwear from his body. Janine read the size on one of the tatters before tossing it away. She went to the trunk and picked out a frilly pink panty in his size.
"Just wear this. It'll be fine. Here, if it makes you feel any better..." She untied her top and threw it behind the bar. Staring at her large chest with the chocolate-brown nipples was enough motivation to change into his 'gear'.
"Don't worry...it's just us down here. No one else will see you." Janine stated, conveniently forgetting the closed circuit camera that fed footage to her phone.
Finally, they faced each other on the mat. Anyone else might have gotten on their knees to match Janine's height, but the young man thought he could surprise her.
As Janine said 'Go', her opponent threw a kick. Janine was quick enough to grab his ankle in mid-air, and locked her hand in a vice grip around it. He stood, hopping on one foot. He saw her manicure from her other hand come down towards his sole, and he started to beg...
"OH...Nononono...HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
He couldn't maintain any sense of balance. He fell to the mat, and she quickly tied him into a figure four leglock. Janine cursed herself for not being prepared with any reachable edible toppings, so she kept vigorously stroking his feet until he was at least too weak to escape. She tried suckling both his big toes.
"WAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
No good. It needs flavor.
Once he could no longer struggle, Janine retrieved a bottle of chocolate syrup. She unscrewed the cap and poured it onto his soles and toes. Once drenched, Janine went to town. She was in her happy place.
"HAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHOHOHOHO..."
Oh, yes... These are my feet!
By the time she licked and sucked the feet clean, the young man was long knocked out, but breathing. Janine Fireperson-carried him over to her pedicure chair and set him in it. At first, she rinsed his feet with soapy water to make sure all the chocolate was washed off. She prepared some pink nail polish, then went to grab some smelling salts and a ball gag.
She rudely awoke him with the salts. Once he got his bearings, she surprised him with the sight of the nail polish.
Now panicked, and cursing his own naivete, he tried to beg and reason all over again.
"Nail polish?!?!? Let me out! This is illegal! HEL--HAHAHA!"
Janine shut him up with a pumice stone to the sole. Then she plugged his nose. He fought hard, but breathing was too important. Once he opened his jaw, she stuffed and secured the ball gag firmly inside.
Despite not being able to talk too well, the young man garbled a protest over having his toes polished. Janine didn't care. She was too busy with her new toys. Finally, his stubbornness got the better of him and he wore himself into unconsciousness yet again.
It was at this point Janine decided to step outside for some fresh air. She braced the back door, so it wouldn't lock behind her. It was then, that she heard some commotion in the alley. It was the young man's friends. It was now after the club was closed, and his party was leaving. Janine listened intently.
"Hey, wait.. aren't we missing one?"
"Ah, he probably got lucky. It's late. He's heard of Uber."
"From here? We came from over an hour away!"
"He snoozes, he lost..."
Janine snickered and shut the door. She did it. Janine's new toys would delight her for many years. Photos of them would be famous in fetish magazines for even longer.
THE END
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