"Uggh, that was a long lecture," Ms. Prittey groaned. She sat down at her seat and took out some papers she needed to grade. Phil turned around to her attention. He called to her, but she either could not hear him or ignored him.
After about thirty seconds, she put her feet up on her desk. Phil gasped as these two massage feet came right next to where he was, one on his left side and the other on his right. She plopped her shoes off, professional looking black heels that a woman might wear to work, to reveal her stockinged feet. The heels fell dangerously close to Phil. He got out of his desk and began to talk towards Ms. Prittey both trying to get her attention and get away from her feet before he got hurt.
Before he could respond though, he was picked up by her right foot. He stood there dangling, attached to her toes, as she propped her foot back up. Phil looked down and saw that there was a far fall for him down her foot if he gets free. Her other foot came up from below and started rubbing him. Her feet began to grind him into them. The rubbing alone was almost giving him a burn.
Not sure what to do, he pounded her foot relentlessly to no avail. Then he started to tickle the top of her sole. Instantly her toes flexed, loosening their grip. He almost fell before her toes tightened back up again, reminding him of what would happen should they let go. Does he continue to try to get free or just endure it.
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