I have always had a ?thing? about feet. It probably started when I had just turned eighteen when at 6th form college a new teacher, Miss French started at the lower school (which was in the same grounds and shared some of the facilities including the staff and canteen areas). She was quite a large lady of around 15 stone (210 lbs) and was always barefoot and wearing flat sandals (some people used to call them ?Jesus Boots?), the ones with the brown leather upper straps and crepe soles. Her feet were quite large, about a 9 UK (43 euro) fairly wide with high arches. They always looked soft and well cared for and nearly always had nice fresh red nail varnish on them. I was fascinated by them, they were the first feet I had really noticed and I spent many hours just looking (and listening as they made a sort of swishy sound on the polished wooden floors) at them. I just knew I wanted to be stood on by them and feel the weight of Miss French pressing down on me through those well worn looking crepe soles.
When Miss French was on dinner duty she always stood in the same spot with her back to the hedge separating the two 6th form and lower school playing fields. Day after day during the summer lunchtimes on the playing field when Miss French was on dinner duty I spent the time sitting on the grass on the other side of the hedge behind her looking at her feet through the hedge daydreaming and wishing. Miss French kept her feet in virtually the same spot every time to the point that the grass there was quite flattened down. I wished I could be that piece of grass. All the time she stood there moving her weight from one foot to the other, but always tending to stand with most of her weight on the left for most of the time. If she moved for any reason she always came back to the same spot.
One day, getting bold I thought that I would try and get an even closer look at Miss French?s feet so I laid out on the grass facing the back of Miss French and was now only about 3 foot (1m) from her heels. Gradually I crept up closer on my belly until I was almost close enough to touch them. Being that close I could hear the leather creaking slightly as she moved her feet shifting her weight around. How I wished again that I was the grass beneath her sandals. I managed to move a bit closer and was slightly to her left and was pretty sure that she was not aware that I was so close. I reached out with my right hand and gently touched the heel of her left sandal with my index & middle fingers and thought ?if only I could get my fingers under that heel I would feel some of that weight?. Flattening my hand palm down on the grass with my outstretched fingers just behind her heel I waited patiently and as Miss French moved her weight around gradually worked three of my fingertips just underneath the heel. Although I could only feel a little bit of weight I realised that this was the feeling I wanted and must have spend some time there in another world, the only problem then being that I wanted to feel even more of the weight of Miss French. Alas, the end of lunchtime came I was thinking only of the next day, but at least if I closed my eyes I could still imagine Miss French?s heel on the ends of three fingers. Looking, I could see that the fingertips were quite flattened and had gone a bit white with the lack of circulation, but as it returned the fingertips felt nice and warm.
The next day on Friday I positioned myself on the grass behind the hedge and waited and made sure that Miss French was unaware of his presence. Today there was just a hint of a slight breeze coming towards him and he could just smell a sweet fragrant aroma coming from those feet and I wanted so much to feel that weight on the fingers again. I did not have long to wait though and as soon as Miss French started to move her feet I managed to work my fingertips under the heel, further this time getting my fingers completely under the heel and was experiencing that wonderful feeling again. I then started to wonder what it would feel like if my hand was completely under the sandal but thought it would be too much weight, after all, although I was quite tall I only very slightly built and did not consider myself to be that strong enough ? little did I know that I was soon to find out !
One of the girls came up to Miss French to talk to her, and as it was quite noisy on the field Miss French bent over to her right to talk to her leaving my hand on the grass as she raised her left foot up slightly just clear of the ground. When Miss French finished talking to the girl instead of putting her left foot back in the same place she stepped slightly further back. I saw the sandal coming back down realizing that it was going to land on top of my hand and was mesmerized by the sight and did not move the hand. The sole of the sandal made contact first with the fingers and thumb and just seem to rest there with the heel part just touching my wrist, then a little more weight was evenly applied. The sandal was completely covering my hand and I thought that it felt very nice and was very pleased that I could take the weight after all. What I did not realize was that Miss French only had the weight of her left leg and foot on my hand. She seemed to move her foot around a little bit as if she was a bit unsure of her footing. The grass here was not very smooth anyway although it was quite thick like a cushion then suddenly she shifted most of her weight onto her left foot. I could not believe it, probably some 90% of Miss French?s weight was my right hand, my ultimate fantasy come true, the only thing real surprise was the sheer amount of weight pressing down relentlessly and I seriously wondered if I could take it after all. I just knew thought that my hand must be squashed completely flat and wondered if Miss French even thought that there was something other than the grass beneath her foot. Still, it was there now and there was nothing I could do without giving myself away. The pressure carried on relentlessly and I was sure that the entire hand would be permanently squashed flat and very possibly injured. Every so often there would be some relief as Miss French shifted her weight a little back & forth. I thought that if Miss French lifted her foot enough I would ease my hand away. After about five minutes the chance came, the sandal raised up almost off the now well flattened hand, but instead of moving it, I kept it there. As almost all the weight was off the circulation started to return and the hand started to get warm and throb a bit but it still felt good.
Just then, the weight returned suddenly, almost with a stamp (at least it felt like it) and again the pressure was relentless, if anything it felt like there was even more weight this time. The sandal remained where it was for almost ten minutes shifting slightly every so often, It seemed that Miss French stood with most of her weight on the left foot most of the time. I was in heaven and just wanted more and more and wished I could stay there for the rest of the day. Just then one of the other teachers on the far side of the field blew her whistle at someone. To get a better view Miss French then stood evenly on her feet for a second or two and I thought ?ah that?s better for a rest?, but it was short lived ? Miss French then stood on her toes, so that half of her weight was just on my right fingers, from the knuckles to the tips ! This was an entirely new feeling for me and I even panicked a bit when I thought that the fingers were probably being bent the ?wrong? way. Just as I was getting used to the new sensation Miss French then jiggled up and down a bit increasing the pressure to the point where I thought his fingers would surely break. Whilst Miss French was up on her toes I could see the imprint of my hand & wrist on the soft worn crepe bottom of the sandal. After a few moments Miss French returned heavily to her ?normal? standing position. For about five more minutes Miss French then seemed to shift her weight back and forth in a sort of rocking movement almost as if she was massaging my hand and then, as lunchtime ended, Miss French walked off, right foot first and then pushed off with her left so that for a fraction of a second all of her weight was on those well flattened right fingers. I stayed there for a while looking and pulled my hand back to take a closer look at it ? it was virtually flat and very white where the circulation had been restricted. It felt a bit painful but I had already made my mind up - I would be there again after the weekend, maybe to try the left hand under the right foot next time.
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