Crawling Back To Her - Part 5

Shit, shit, SHIT! Steve can already see Helen's silhouette, moving from the living room to the front door. She's clocked eyes on him, the headlights of his car reflecting against the hallway light. Knowing that any dawdling would look more suspicious than he already does, he heads straight to the door, his mind racing at a hundred miles an hour.

"Where have you been?" Helen stares at him, her head cocked to one side and a glass of water in her hand. Part Columbian, she has such naturally pretty features and tanned skin. "Why didn't you message or call? And what's with your jeans...?" Remembering the stain on his crotch, caused by Lucy's feet, he feels immediate shame nearly make him confess there and then.

Not sure which question to answer first, he takes a breath and gives her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, love, let's sit down - I'll tell you everything...." Stalling for time, she frowns as he leads her by the hand towards the living room where they both take a seat on the couch. "How was your evening?"

Helen narrows her dark eyes, her arms still folded. "Steve, I'm starting to get a little fucking worried now. Forget about my evening, where were you?" He considers again telling her the truth. confiding in her... But Lucy is right, he's a coward and not man enough to actually admit who, and what he is. It's better to lie, to protect this 'normal' relationship he has.

"Oh, I went out with a couple of friends to Duke's in town," he tells her simply.

"You were driving? And drinking?" She raises a well-manicured eyebrow.

"No, of course not! My buddies were. Er, anyway... Joe was all over the place, spilling his drink - which is why..." He points awkwardly to his crotch. "Er, and I'm sorry I didn't call - I just wanted to get back to clear up this...mess first."

She continues to stare at him. "So, Joe was there? Who else?"

"Oh, er, Tim and Callum. Yeah, it was just the four of us," he says with a straight face, dearly hoping she will just buy it so that she lets him clear the mess caked inside his boxers.

"Next time, tell me if you're going out, Steve," she tells him firmly. "I was worried - and when I saw the hall light on, your car gone, I thought something had happened."

He apologises profusely, which she seems to accept, though her eyes are still a little skeptical. As he looks around the living room, he realises that he's not ready to give this up. This conventional life he has developed with a lovely, beautiful woman who all of his friends and family adore. It's his chance to not just be a pathetic, worthless loser - what Lucy sees him as.

"You've not been yourself recently, Steve. Since the other day. Has something happened?"

"No, no. I just...need to change out of these pants. Sorry, love. I won't scare you like that again," he tells her, before heading straight up to the bedroom. Dropping his jeans and boxers straight into the wash, wincing a bit about how potentially ruined his clothes are, he puts on fresh ones on and walks into the bedroom, gasping a little at Helen on their bed.

Wearing nothing but lacy black lingerie, his gorgeous girlfriend chews her lip. "Remember what I told you, there's one more birthday present I owe you. Tell me, what do you want, Steve?"

Gazing at her, appreciating how beautiful he is, his eyes wander down her smooth, tanned legs towards her bare feet. Maybe this is it, time to admit to her what he really desires...

Taking a breath, he stops himself and focuses back on her face. There is a playful look about her. Helen is great at sex; she's energetic, playful and unselfish too. If he told her about his foot fetish, would it change things irrevocably? What would it be like, knowing that she is aware of his true desires, full aware it's something she's clearly shown real distaste for - feet!

"How about if you straddle me, and we go from there?" He asks, a little sheepishly, quickly tearing off his clothes and hopping next to her on the bed.

She rolls her eyes a little. "As if to make a change?" She says, teasingly, though she clearly enjoys being on top. On almost every occasion they'd made love, Helen would be on top, taking charge and he did not mind one bit. Wishing that he could mention her feet, he tries one more time.

"You know earlier, about your feet?" He mentions casually, while she begins to move atop him, sliding her knees back so she can lean forward and hold onto his hands.

"My feet?" She says with a grimace. "Yeah, I do actually. I was talking about it with my friends tonight. We're kinda split on that one. Megan reckons it would be quite fun, having someone pay attention to your feet. But the others were mostly with me - it's just weird, and gross. Why? Are you trying to tell me something...?"

"No, no..." he says reassuringly as she starts sliding forward, kissing his neck and gliding her hands over his chest and arms. Refocusing on the current situation, he kisses his girlfriend, rubbing her back with one hand.

After a few minutes, nothing is happening downstairs. This isn't too unusual - she's patient with him before and never made him feel bad for it. It usually takes him thinking about feet - celebrities he fancies, other women he knows, Helen herself - despite what she says her feet are cute - ex girlfriend's...

That's what does it. Almost in a heady rush, the feeling of Lucy's soft, sumptuous soles against his face make him let out a small moan, which Helen takes as a sign her gyrations and kisses are working. The very recent memory of his ex's slightly cheddary flavoured soles, which he kissed passionately earlier makes his knees tremble and wood start to build, very quickly.

"There he is..." Helen whispers appreciatively into his ear, quickly slipping on a condom over his fully erect penis, which she had ready. His thoughts swamped with his ex's feet - the smell, the taste, the feeling of them resting in his face... it's very humbling to think that they have such a powerful effect on him. He's done this in the past, when he's struggled to get hard, picture and imagine the taste of her feet, him kissing, licking or worshiping them but now he knows the actual taste of them, how perfect they felt on his nose, lips...

It had only been around half an hour since he ejaculated...maybe this means he will last long... too long? As Helen positions herself so that he can enter her, he realises the opposite is true, that he is already close, mortifyingly close to ejaculating already...Just as Helen begins to slide back a little to allow him inside her, he knows it's all too late. Letting out a whimper and a small yelp, she stops completely, eyes widened in surprise as she feels him vibrate, his whole body shaking with the orgasm.

"Sorry..." He mumbles in the post-orgasmic state, Helen lifting herself off him and lying next to him. "That was... I didn't think."

"Don't be sorry, Steve," she smiles at him, patting his arm. "It's your birthday and I told you it was going to be present for you. Glad you enjoyed it!"

His girlfriend is so warm, so understanding. No doubt Lucy would have made a demeaning remark at this stage. It makes him feel even more guilty for what he's allowed to happen the past two evenings. He kisses her before leaving the room, a little sheepishly to dispose of the condom (which contains a meagre amount of semen) and have a shower. When he returns, Helen has already switched to PJs and is curled up, ready to sleep. Grateful that he can have some alone time to reflect on things, he can't help the guilt swirling around him. How could he cheat on Helen like this? His friends would think he was crazy? Yes, Lucy is attractive and has this power over him but it's just not worth it! He would be giving up SO much and for what, to be his ex's 'foot bitch'? Yet, Lucy has him by the balls. She has videos of him, messages... he can't deny or ignore her either. Whatever he does, there is no clear option! He finally drifts off to sleep.

After a night of dreaming of Lucy's feet, intermingled with dreams where he had to choose between the two women in his life, him kissing his ex's feet in front of Helen and her family...all sorts of crazy things, he wakes up early and prepares coffee for the two of them, whilst getting ready for work, being a Monday morning. Being at the same company, it makes it easier to organise themselves - something Helen is naturally adept at. As they arrive into the building, they kiss, parting ways for the day. It makes sense and works out well that they don't actually physically work together - that would be too intense. Preparing for a meeting with several of the big bosses, including Lucy's father, Duncan, Steve checks over his notes before his phone beeps.

Your face felt so good under my feet yesterday, loser. Even though you got a little too excited, you did a good job. Come over at lunch time so I can rest my feet on you some more.

His heart sinks. Of course, deep down he would love to do this but he simply can't. Best to be honest with her, straight away, he reasons. He's used to now to grovel and apologise to her - that part comes totally naturally now.

I would love to serve you as a grateful foot rest... I was honoured yesterday to do it. I am so, so sorry but I can't. I'm at work and have an important meeting but I will come over as soon as I can...maybe this evening if I'm able to. Sorry for being useless and not at your disposal when you need me to be. Sorry, sorry.

He hadn't really considered the logistics of scurrying over to his ex's, while negotiating work, his relationship, other commitments. Lucy replies immediately.

That's not my problem. I'm the boss, remember? You need to figure that out and because you haven't just replied to confirm you'll come over now, it means you'll have some REAL grovelling to do and earn your face being used as a foot rest - where it belongs! Answer me quickly that you'll come over right now, or things will only get worse.


Shit... He feels both turned on by her dominance but she doesn't seem to get it. Considering how she still lives with her parents and has never shared details about her work, maybe she doesn't have much responsibility? She's not even at work now and it's a Monday. He thought his message was grovelling enough, yet it's still not enough. He can't keep doing this - at the weekend it was manageable but not at work, not with a possible promotion and chance to jump up the pay scale coming up...

I am really sorry, goddess. I know that I am a humble foot bitch and tool for you to use, but I also have responsibilities at work. This meeting won't wait...it could mean I miss out on a promotion... I am really, really sorry but I just can't. My face will be back in its rightful place as your foot rest as soon as I can, I promise.

"Hey there, what ya doing?" His coworker, Stacey leans over, fortunately a little far away to read his message as he hastily places his phone down. "Ready for the big meeting?"

Stacey. His arch-nemesis at work who he has been going at loggerheads for this latest promotion. She's been there a year less than he has, but has shown a lot of initiative and seems to have no qualms in stepping over people to move up the corporate ladder. Neither are on Helen's level of responsibility or management but with this promotion, it would be not very far off.

"Oh, yeah," he tells her, taking a second to admire her open-toe heeled shoes at the end of her admittedly sexy, long legs. "See you in there."

She grins at him. "You know, between me and you, it would probably be easier not to bother. Sally tells me I'm a shoe-in for this role - it's nothing personal. It's just that I've apparently got better leadership skills."

Trying not to glare at her, he has to admit that she quite a natural leader, not dissimilar to Helen, though clearly more arrogant. "It's fine, thanks. We'll just see what happens during the meeting." He feels quietly confident, having gleaned some useful, unofficial bits of information from Duncan the other day at lunch. Still, it's hard to verbally spar with an alpha female like Stacey, who seems to assert her dominance so naturally.

"Tell you what," she says breezily, cocking her head to one side, and running a hand through her hair. "When I get this promotion, I'll make sure you're on my team. You can be my sub-team leader! And I'll totally make sure you get load of opportunities. Of course, you'll need to fetch my coffee, polish my shoes..." She adds pompously, sniffing a little disdainfully down at him.

He's stumped...normally he would laugh it off but images of being on all fours around Lucy, being told he was allowed to kiss her feet...ejaculating into his pants... An picture of him doing the same for Stacey while she sips a coffee he has just fetched her enters his mind, which he He stays silent for an embarrassingly long time, while a smirk widens on his rival's face, clearly surprised that he has no comeback.

"Wow, well that was...rather pathetic," she states slowly, a curious grin on her face. "You literally have nothing to say... interesting! Well, it's a skinny latte and I'll leave the shoe polish on my desk ready!" She cheerfully calls before stalking away, snorting with laughter.

Blushing furiously, he goes back to his phone, seeing that Lucy has messaged just a few moments ago.

And now you're ignoring me. Seriously, do you learn NOTHING? You had earned all of that goodwill last night from me, I actually let you kiss my feet again... I graced your pathetic face with my bare feet and you're not willing to work around things for me? You are so ungrateful. I thought that a foot bitch like you would jump at the chance to be a foot rest again! I was going to let you massage my feet again too! You have SO much making up to do for me. Not only are you coming over, right now, but need a present on the way back. A new pair of tennis trainers and a new pair of heels. That's just the start of you making this up to me. Hurry the fuck up loser!

Fucking hell, this is bad! If he keeps fighting this or doesn't turn up, not only could things get worse for him, but there is always the risk of pissing her off so much that she reveals his foot fetish online... He makes up his mind - Lucy takes priority over this possible promotion. Quickly packing his things together, he heads sheepishly into the meeting room, telling Duncan and one of the other big bosses that he feels suddenly sick and has to go to the doctors. Both cannot hide their disappointment, nor can Stacey hide her delight as he passes her desk on the way out.

"Remember my coffee tomorrow, Steve!" She giggles as he walks past head down, assuming it is her brow-beating that has caused him to feign this illness.

Heading straight to the nearest mall to Lucy's home, he picks up a modestly expensive pair of heels, one black, smooth-looking pair for a hundred dollars, and tennis trainers from a sports shop for another fifty. Hurrying over, he carries one shoe box under each arm, dropping to his knees at the door, wincing as he notices Lucy's neighbour's car pulling into the drive. Ignoring it, he waits for his ex to appear at the door while the neighbour glances over at him, tries to disguise a smile before heading inside.

"You have no idea how annoyed I am with you," Lucy tells him, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a a light pink top. She's not actually barefoot - she's wearing white trainers and ankle socks.

"I am so sorry, please, please take these shoes as an offering to show how sorry I am, I will make it up to you, goddess. Sorry for being so useless and letting work get in the way. I'm so sorry..." he practically whines, as she stares down at him, arms folded.

"No, you've bought these shoes for me because I told you to. I thought we were clear - I'm in charge, I own you now. Nothing else gets in the way of that - not your girlfriend, not your work. Not anything. Now, because you've bought the shoes and dropped down to your knees, with a decent-fish apology, that means you are allowed to come inside to try to make it up for me. You've got a long way to go until you can earn being my foot rest or foot massager again!" There is an aura of dominance about Lucy; if only he had learned his lesson and just immediately replied with a grovelling affirmative. Now he's potentially blown his chance of a promotion at work, as well as seriously piss off his ex.

Lucy tuts at him with disapproval before turning around, leaving him to meekly crawl after her, close the door then - as has become the usual pattern by now - follow her into the living room to await instructions.

"OK, loser. These shoes are actually pretty good. These heels...wow!" She lets out a small gasp of surprise as she notices the price tag before glowering a bit at him. "It's not cool to leave the price on for presents, or to get some sort of recognition, you know."

"Sorry....boss. I'm... I mean, I should have.... I'll...I'll remember next time..." He says weakly, already kneeling down in front of her, his head bowed.

"Next time? There may not be one, foot bitch. You're lucky I'm allowing you to crawl back into my good graces by allowing you to purchase me this footwear. That's just stage one. The next stage is making sure that you have completely learned your lesson - denying me TWICE. I thought things were crystal clear - I own you! Even if you weren't completely unable to resist my feet, I've got so much on you that I could ruin you. Your relationship, your job... is that what you want?" She nods as he shakes his head furiously. "So at the very, very least, when I say jump, you say how high. Is this message finally sinking in to you?" She taps him firmly on the head before leaning back on the couch and folding her arms.

"I'm sorry, I really mean it... I.. I have learned another valuable lesson from you goddess.... that I, I need to deal with things...make sure they don't get in the way of you... and what you need.... from now on, I really mean it, you come first..." He pleads with her, looking up hopefully at her white trainer that is swaying around in front of him.

"Me coming first?" She giggles at this, which makes him go scarlet. "Anyway, nice grovelling bitch, but that's not what I need from you, though I do always enjoy it. No, the second stage is a punishment for you. Come with me upstairs so you can make your selections..."

Upstairs, selections? For a moment, Steve imagines getting to make out with her on her bed, somewhere he has not been for a good few years. Memories of her straddling him, barefoot while he squirmed under her start popping into his head. Crawling out of the room after her, he's deeply regretful that she's not barefoot right now - the sight of her bare soles up the stairs from his angle would be delicious! A sense of embarrassment hits him - even when she's not barefoot she has total and utter control over him!

Rather than heading to her bedroom, Lucy stops at a closet just around the corner from it. Opening a cupboard, she reveals a huge collection of shoes. Immediately he recognises a few pairs - some grey, worn slippers she used to wear; a pair of pink flip flops she was wearing in Rome, currently matching the top she is wearing; a few different styles and colours of heels; numerous others as well as newer ones he has not seen before.

"Er, you want me to...organise these?" He asks her, looking up at her amused expression.

"Organise? Not quite, bitch! No, your punishment is to clean... hmmm, based on what you've done.... six pairs of my shoes," she states matter-of-factly.

"Clean...um, with...with a cloth? A gentle spin cycle?" He asks stupidly, gradually realising what it is he has to do as she stares at him impassively. "Lucy...goddess....not six...that's too much...?" He whines at her. There is no doubt about it - his task is clear to him - he must clean these shoes with his very own mouth!

She shakes her head in disbelief. "OK, let's go for 7 then? Or shall we say 8? I can go up to 9....10....just remember who you're talking to and how grateful you should be that I'm not making you do something much worse!" She is starting to look annoyed again.

"Yes...I mean, I will...sorry...sorry for not realising....sorry that I didn't just say yes. I still need to learn...and I deserve this...thank you, thank you...sorry..." He says pitifully, hanging his head in shame while she lets out a chuckle.

"That's better. And yes, you clearly need to learn. This should make it very clear to you what happens every time you disobey me, in any way. So, yes it will be 10 pairs now, loser. Choose your ten, then you can bring them downstairs while I do some work of my own..."

Taking several pairs at a time, Steve selects the pairs that look the newest, cleanest. After selecting about 6 fairly new heels and a new-ish pair of sports trainers, he finds himself subconsciously drawn to the pink flip flops, which he knows is probably not the most hygienic choice. At least he has the brains to avoid the worn slippers! Choosing a couple of other random pairs, he gathers the shoes in Lucy's living room, while she sits comfortably on the couch, slowly removing her shoes. He can't help but gawk.

She pouts at him. "Aw, I bet you would love to do this, wouldn't you? Well, not this time - that's your fault, not mine!" She places both trainers on the floor, leaving her socks on, both of which give the faint imprint of her sole, swivelling around to rest them on the edge of couch. The same position she was in when he massaged her feet last night. "Now, I've got work to do here and so do you. I want every single pair sparkling clean - inside and out. No spitting or using anything else - the only thing you will need is your tongue."

The idea of cleaning dirty shoes is revolting. Sometimes, Steve would fantasise about sweaty feet but the reality's that they're stinky and unhygienic. Lucy's feet are well-cared for, clean and frankly delicious. Licking the dirt and grime off shoes is not one of his fantasies!

Choosing the first pair - a new-looking pair of red heels, it's actually not too bad. The leather is smooth and as he trepidatiously slides his tongue along the top part of it, there is nothing unpleasant at all. The bottom of it and the heel itself (which he resignedly ends up sucking on to ensure it is clean) is a little musty, but there's no outward dirt there, at least. Then he remembers the insole, which he presses towards his mouth, smelling the strong, leathery scent, placing a few laps that he can, restricted by the style of the shoe. He repeats the process with the other shoe, finding himself completing it even more quickly. There, one down, 9 to go.

Lucy glances over, frowning as she hops off the couch, leaving her laptop there to inspect his work. She examines each and nods with approval. "Good work...you could actually be a professional!" She giggles, which makes him feel even more worthless. "Now get on with the rest and make sure they're as clean as this pair. I've got work to do, so keep silent," she says again, rather unnecessarily.

He nods weakly before selecting another pair of heels. The next few shoes are all quite similar. Some have slightly more dirt, and one has a small piece of gum, which he quietly ignores. It doesn't take too long to have completed five full sets of shoes. Lining them up neatly, he feels more beneath Lucy than ever.

As if reading his thoughts, she calls across. "Can you imagine, when you were walking around with me at high school, apologising to those cheerleaders that you couldn't hang with them, clearly embarrassed by me.... that years later, you'd be licking my shoes clean?!"

It's a rhetorical question and he knows it's best to stay silent. Lucy pushes him further... "In fact..." she giggles, pulling out her phone. I think it's time for another video."

He is about to interject but she fixes him with a look, her head tilted to the side. "Before you even think about speaking up, remember what happens when you say or do anything that goes against what I want? Thought so..." She adds smugly as he meekly bows his head. "As I was saying, I want a video. Don't worry about it - I've already got so much on you already. Now all I'm going to do is ask you what you're doing and why. Got it? OK, go! Right, we have my foot bitch here, surrounded by pairs of my shoes. Loser, what are you doing exactly?"

"I...erm...I'm cleaning your... I mean, Lucy's shoes..." he murmurs, feeling a new wave of shame washing over him. Is he really going to do this?! "I've cleaned...five pairs so far..." He indicates the completed, neat line of her heels. "And, um, there are five to go..."

This is so mortifying; all he can do is hope and pray that this is purely for her own pleasure. Even still, it's a ridiculous situation to be in!

"So you're cleaning my shoes... Wow, I can't think of many guys who would actually do that, not for a lot of money! Are you being paid for this?" She says pompously.

"Um, no..." He replies meekly.

"So why are you doing it?" She asks, in a faux-perplexed way. "Did you lose a bet?"

"I'm, I'm doing it because....because..." He clears his throat. "I didn't answer Lucy's message properly. Twice. So this is my punishment."

"Oh, so you're doing this because I've told you to - that's interesting! And you do what I tell you don't you, because you're my foot bitch, right?" She lets out a small giggle, tossing back her hair and fixing the camera on her phone right at him.

"Er...yeah...yep...that's it," he says in a small voice.

She frowns. "That doesn't sound clear. I think you need to speak up and state whether you are my foot bitch, or not. Well?"

"I'm your...er, Lucy's...um...foot bitch," he says with a whimper, which makes her giggle some more.

"OK, last question for you, foot bitch, formerly known as Steve! Which pair do you think are the dirtiest?"

His eyes immediately wander to the pink flip flops, which he now really does regret choosing. Just because of a memory with her in Rome! Picking them up, she nods in agreement.

"Ooh, good choice. I've had those ones for ages..." she states, crinkling her cute, freckled nose. "Go straight onto those ones."

For a fleeting second, his eyes plead 'no' with her, not on camera, not when he's still then got another four pairs...but he is learning his place with every order, every command. Trying not to look disgusted, he holds the flip flops in front of him. The bottoms are caked with dirt, little bits of rubbish...all sorts of disgusting things. Flipping them over, he studies them briefly, admittedly admiring the clear, dirty imprint of her bare soles.

Bringing one of them to his face, he finds himself embarrassingly turned on slightly by the fact that he's about to lick her foot print from her pink flip flop. His eyes darting over to her for a moment, the wide smirk she is wearing just makes it all the worse.

"Wow, that is one dirty flip flop. The amount of sweat from my foot...you really must be a total loser to even think about licking that. Is that what you are, foot bitch, a total loser?"

He nods weakly, feeling all pride evaporate away. "I am a...total loser...I'm Lucy's pathetic foot bitch... I do whatever she tells me...I've kissed her feet, massaged them, been her foot rest... this is the price to pay to get back to being allowed to worship her feet, then I will do it...."

She has to steady her hand, so much she is shaking with silent laughter. "Wow..." is all she can say, while he proceeds to slowly lick up from the bottom of the flip flop. sliding it along, avoiding the rubber holder, swirling it around before swallowing thickly. "How does it taste, loser?"

"Erm...it's quite...dirty," he says, stating the obvious. "It's sharp...um... my tongue feels really rough...it's..." He grimaces for a moment. "But I'll do it, for you - Lucy. You are a goddess and even though I'd rather be licking your actual feet, this is still an h-honour. Thank you...thank you, goddess."

Lucy looks like the cat who got the cream, plus some extra helpings. She shakes her head, as if in pity at her broken ex boyfriend, now shoe-licker, giving him an over-the-top thumbs off.

"Oh, you're welcome, foot bitch. Now don't do too good a job, or I might make you do this more often!" She says, the camera still aimed at him, before clicking a button and placing it down. Sighing happily, she swivels back around, laptop back in hand, stretching out her arms. "That was excellent. Well done, foot bitch."

He replies a meek 'thank you', before returning doggedly to his task. It takes an age to even make a dent in the amount of grime removed from the tops of her flip flops, but after repeatedly licking away, his tongue becoming more accustomed to them, he finally is satisfied they are clean enough. Remembering the undersides of them, his heart sinks. But he's debased himself, including on camera, so much already, he merely grunts before getting on with it. This takes much longer and he gets a lot less pleasure from it. On her foot prints, he could imagine he was cleaning her bare feet, tasting her foot sweat, which was definitely a turn on. This wasn't - it was just cleaning off dirt that had nothing really to do with her actual feet. After what seemed like an eternity, he took a few gasps for breath, switching to the other one. Realising his tongue was drier than a carpet, he humbly requests that he fetches himself a glass of water, just for a drink, not to aid with cleaning. Lucy permits him to, and orders a glass of orange juice with ice too.

While he fixes the drinks, he notices a beep on his phone and decides to check it.

Steve, what's going on? Dad mentioned you were sick? Why haven't you called? Are you OK?


Crap, Helen must be worried. He can see she has left several missed calls too...

"Foot bitch, I don't like to be kept waiting..." Lucy calls from the living room. Prioritising his ex, he returns his phone to his pocket and hastily finishes the drinks, apologising immediately to her as he hands her the orange juice.

Gulping down the water, swallowing down all the bits of dirt and grime lingering there, he returns to his task. It takes another age but the pink flip flops are done. They're as good as they're going to be. Almost collapsing to the floor, he remembers the other shoes... Proceeding with the task, it seems to take an ice age and the only perk is being around the scent of Lucy's feet, albeit obscured by the general acrid, vinegary stench of the more worn shoes. The less worn ones just smell of the main materials, chiefly leather. It is an endless, monotonous task and not sexy or thrilling at all, like his massaging or foot resting for her have been. He could have even just be doing six pairs, had he not spoken up stupidly earlier too! One thing is for certain, he definitely wants to avoid doing this ever again!

"Lucy....er, I have finished," he states meekly, indicating the line of 10 pairs of shoes. Having a quick inspection, his ex can't help to be impressed.

"You know what, I think this is the thing you really excel in! It may not be as fun as being at my feet, but you've done better than I thought. Eugh...those flip flops..." She picks up the oldest pair of shoes that he spent approximately an hour on. "These ones are still pretty dirty. Do these ones again, but the rest are good." She tells him, promptly hopping back on the couch onto her laptop.

The idea of having to lick those filthy footwear item again makes his heart sink but he merely nods. For the next half hour, he does all he can to remove the dirty print of Lucy's foot from each flip flop. He even lightly nibbles with his teeth, careful not to ruin the rubbery material. Finally, even he can admit that they needed this second clean as they look a lot better.

Lucy is satisfied too. "You've completed both task one - buying me new shoes and task two - cleaning my old ones with your mouth. This means that you've gotten back into my good graces. But by now, isn't it clear - foot bitch? Isn't it clear that you just need to do whatever I tell you, with a thank you and gratitude that I'm asking you to do it?"

"Yes...Lucy... yes... I...." His words trail off as she frowns at him.

"I don't like you calling me 'Lucy' anymore. It's like we're equals and watching you clean my shoes, we most certainly are NOT! Boss is good... I liked that. Oh, I think 'Goddess' makes most sense. I must seem like one to you, now, right?"

"Yes Goddess. You are a Goddess and I am yours to be used and to serve you..." He tells her meekly, believing every word too.

She smiles with satisfaction. "Good. Now, you've made things back up to me. You can go now." She waves him away, before pulling off her socks so her bare feet dangle off the edge of the couch.

"Goddess..." he says uncertainly, moving round to kneel before her. It's no use, he is so desperate to be at her bare feet... "Please can I-"

"No, foot bitch," she interrupts him without looking up. "You were punished today for your behaviour and it hardly seems fitting that you then get a reward, does it?"

"N-no...Goddess...it's just that I...can't...resist...." He leans forward to steal a kiss on one silky smooth sole but she firmly pushes him away.

"I said 'no' foot bitch. Now crawl away now before you start pissing me off again," she fixes him with an icy look; he knows he sadly won't get any foot action today. "Oh, by the way, don't message me unless I message you. I don't want you going all stalker-boy on me again, like you did last time."

Grovelling and humbly apologising as he crawls away, he curses himself. He has messed up so badly today - with that potential promotion at work, with Helen, with Lucy - not even being allowed to massage or kiss her feet today. Crying out in frustration as he gets to his car, he checks his phone to see that there's been another missed call...

Calling her back, he makes up a lie of needing to vomit so badly and feeling nauseous for a couple of hours. But after a quick nap and some water he feels much better, in fact he can come into work...

"Don't get your hopes up on that one. Stacey apparently impressed them during the meeting and she seems to be the prime candidate now. See if you can explain things, talk to Dad and the other bosses. Oh, I bumped into Joe. He seemed confused about last night when I made a comment - is he, like, in denial or has memory issues after he's drunk?"

Oh great, that's all he needs. He didn't think about corroborating any story with Joe, or the others for that matter. Joe works in their building, an oversight he should have accounted for. The lies are beginning to weigh Steve down, make him feel increasingly anxious. He quickly agrees with his girlfriend, that Joe practically has a drinking problem before saying goodbye and heading into work. It's nearly 3:30pm - by the time he'd bought shoes, got back to Lucy's, did the humbling shoe cleaning for her... there's little of the working day left.

As he arrives in, heading straight for Duncan's office, he has to pass Stacey's workstation first.

"Oh, you checking what my coffee order is? I told you already, it's a skinny latte," His coworker says with a grin, playing with her light brown hair. "Oh, I'll leave these shoes here..." She slips off her open-toed heels, revealing very slender, pretty bare feet. "Black polish."

He stares far too long, his eyes lingering on her soles. "Oh, er... yeah... I mean... I'm having the meeting now... Er..."

She folds her arms and narrows her eyes at him, her white french-tipped nails wiggling. "Is something wrong, Steve? I just had a pedi and deep feet clean last night - they can't smell."

He shakes it off, stupidly apologising to her before hurrying away, straight to Duncan's office. Mumbling his apologies to the bosses about the sudden sickness he had earlier, he just about remembers the key points he wanted to make earlier, none of which sound very convincing. He keeps having flashes of Lucy's dangling feet, of licking that pink flip flop, over and over... The bosses don't seem particularly impressed, questioning his health and commitment. One of them even asks him how he'd feel working under Stacey, which he blushes furiously at before giving a generic response. Duncan admits that it's looking like they're not even going to interview, but offer the job to the best candidate tomorrow. The whole thing is pretty much a disaster.

As they leave the office, Stacey is waiting outside with a grin on her face; at least her shoes are back on. "I can't wait until tomorrow... Do you honestly think you stand a chance against me since bailing earlier? Why did you even bother coming back, what to put in a good word for me? I'll look forward to that coffee tomorrow..." She taunts him with a grin. "See ya!"

What a disaster. He doesn't usually, but he heads straight to Helen, sharing the key details with her, feeling useless for not standing up to Stacey or for making a more impassioned speech to the bosses.

"That Stacey..." Helen shakes her head. "She's a bit of a bitch, yeah. But then again, that's probably why she's good at what she does. It's just so frustrating that you were ill... had you been there earlier, you would've got your points in, it would have made a real difference."

He's not sure if if would now. Since his experiences with Lucy, he's felt more humbled and the encounter with Stacey could well have gone differently if he hadn't been so meek around just the mention of anything foot-related.

When they both get home from work, he keeps trying but failing not to think about Lucy's feet. Not being allowed to touch, kiss or even feel them today has really affected him. Snuggling up with Helen to watch a film, he thinks about messaging his ex but remembers her instruction not to. Things are really getting out of control... He's at Lucy's mercy and there's no clear way out. Does he deep down want to get back with Lucy, to be her boyfriend? It feels like that would be difficult since she's dominated him so thoroughly - he's just a foot bitch to her. Breaking up with Helen would be devastating. He knows that she is the 'better' of the two women - better looking, more successful, better and nicer to him, she owns the apartment, she's made him a better person too.

Everything the next morning seems 'normal'. He and Helen have their usual routine of the coffee, breakfast, getting ready. As he heads into work, he determinedly ignores Stacey, who doesn't get a chance to taunt him as he pretends to take a call. She actually emails him her coffee order, stating that he can get it for her, when congratulating her on her new title of Assistant Manager, later today. For the first hour or so, he sees an email ping up from Duncan. Before he reads the message title properly - something possibly about the job promotion, his phone buzzes...

I need my feet to be licked clean. Come over now foot bitch.


Steve gulps, knowing that there is only one option. This time he won't even tell anyone else, he will just slip away and get to Lucy's as soon as possible.

Yes Goddess. Thank you Goddess for giving me this opportunity. I will be over right away. Thank you.



What will happen next with Steve? What does Lucy have in store for him? How will slipping away from work again affect things? Find out in the final part!