Still Fair Game

F/f - Cinta maintains her grip on her personal wimp, Amy, as her victim struggles with her weird internal thoughts on the matter. 20k words.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Copyright © 2021 themaneloco

Fair Game in Her Eyes - Part 2

Still Fair Game

So, there I was, tapping away on my laptop. I’d been working on this specific piece for the past two weeks. It was probably the highest paying job I’d ever received as a freelancer and I couldn’t afford to miss the deadline. I’d started up a blog about my work and I’d randomly had the offer come in. Such was the lucrative nature of the contract, I’d actually shunted all of my existing work aside so I could focus on this one piece.

Of course, while I was sat there, thundering line after line of copy into the document, I had my menacing housemate’s slouch sock dangling from my mouth. That seemed to be how I spent my whole time working these days. This was a particularly grotty one too as Cinta had worn it during her ultra-marathon training that week. The sole had pretty much blackened from sweat and it was only above the ankle that remained white.

The flavour was one of which I was familiar now, and it still held that almost relaxing, comforter feel while I sucked the sweat from it. If anything, I felt occupied and focused on my work. There was little interest to procrastinate via a trip to the kitchen or engage in a phone call. My mouth was fulfilled and satisfied.

“How’s work going?”

I was startled and accidentally hit the enter key. I bolted my head over towards the bedroom door, that sock swinging from my lips in the process. Cinta was stood there, dripping in sweat from her extended session at the gym. She’d left that afternoon just after midday and it was now almost five.

She’d usually have me pick her up, however, since she was training for her ultra-marathon, she’d added cool down jogs to her workout and would usually make her own way home. She stood in the doorway and sucked the last few drops from a glistening water bottle. It gleamed as much as her olive skin, which had a sheen of sweat down her neck and shoulders. The leggings and crop top she was wearing were soaked through, and I noticed the usual pristine eyeliner in the corner of her eyes had clotted slightly, such must have been her effort. It wasn’t often that Cinta looked less than perfect, but she had a good excuse after such an intense afternoon.

She threw the water bottle on my bed, then walked over and smiled down at me. She brushed her forehead with the sweatband on her wrist, then lifted the end of her sock in my mouth and caressed the material with her thumb. “I forgot you can’t answer. Your mouth is all full.” She chuckled to herself, then yanked the sock free from my teeth.

I adjusted my jaw, then moved my tongue around, trying to add some moisture to my painfully dry mouth. Cinta’s socks had that effect of absorbing all of my saliva and replacing it with her sweat. The result was an intense parchment where I’d often be begging for a drink after a few hours of work. “It’s going well,” I said. “I’ve managed to get quite a lot done.”

Cinta took a seat on the edge of my bed. “Yes, it’s amazing how on task I can keep you, huh? What would you do without me?”

I narrowed my eyes at her in thought. Oh, only live a normal life, still have a boyfriend and not spend most of the day with my mouth tasting like feet. How about all of those things? Of course, I didn’t say any of that. Instead, my spine waned and I struggled to maintain eye contact with her. “I don’t know, Cinta.”

She shrugged. “You’d probably not only be a wimp, but a failure too.”

“Yes, Cinta.”

She stretched her arms and legs out, then flopped back onto the bed. “Anyway, I better go and have a shower. You have work to get done, so I don’t want to bother you.”

“Oh,” I said on instinct. “So, you don’t want me to—”

Cinta suddenly burst out laughing and her body seemed to jiggle on the bed. I watched her silently while she caught her breath. “Oh, I love it,” she said. “You’re desperate to get your tongue on my feet, aren’t you?” She sat up, then offered me a mock frown and motioned with her hand as if she was wiping away a tear. “Will Amy get all sad if I go for a shower and don’t let you suck my feet clean?”

“No,” I said in all honesty. “That’s not what I was saying at all.”

“Sounded like it to me.” She withdrew her shoulders in an attempt to make herself look scrawny, then in an imitating high-shrill voice she said, “Oh, so you don’t want me to clean your feet, Cinta?”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” I argued.

Cinta’s eyes narrowed and she weighed me up for a moment. “So, what wereyou gonna say then, wimp?”

As soon as she said that word, my mind seemed to go blank. It had some kind of effect on me, like in one word I was instantly reminded of my place in the hierarchy of my own home. This wasn’t my domain anymore, Cinta had seized it for herself. It was almost as if we were living in the caveman days and Cinta had exploited my weakness and taken over the tribe.

“I was gonna say, ummm, I think, so you don’t want me to…” I looked up at Cinta hopelessly, and noticed that she’d cocked her head in interest and was listening intently. When I came to a stuttering end, she nodded her head slightly and encouraged me with her hand to continue.

“So, you don’t want me to…” She continued to move her hand and fish the words out of me. “Come on, don’t be afraid to say it, Amy.”

I took a breath and closed my eyes, then said what I thought I wanted to say. “So, you don’t want me to take care of your feet after your training?”

Cinta flashed me a huge smile. “Aww, that’s sweet,” she said. “I didn’t know you felt about my feet that way. It’s almost like they’re your boyfriend or something.” She flopped back onto the bed and spoke to the ceiling. “And all this time I thought I was having to force you to do all of this.”

I shook my head and tried to brush off the thoughts that were racing around my head. Things had changed somewhat that day Cinta had utterly destroyed my relationship with her brother. There was something about her total mastery of me that day, the way she’d stuffed her toe into my mouth and made me listen while she lied and lied until Jeff had disappeared. But it wasn’t just that, it was the acceptance on my part. The capitulating way that while she was doing it, instead of yanking her toe from my mouth or even biting it: I sucked it. I sucked it and accepted that she was free to do whatever she wanted, and I’d willingly suck her toes in the process.

It had had more of an effect on me than Cinta. Things had gone on regularly for her. She still abused me and did whatever she wanted, but inside my head, things had changed somewhat. The little resistance that existed had been stamped out. Not the courage to stand up and fight her, but the deceptive self-preservation that would sometimes rear its head. The way I arranged the meeting with Jeff behind Cinta’s back in the first place. Thoughts like that just didn’t enter my head anymore. They would just be another way for Cinta to demonstrate that she was the stronger woman all over again and I’d suffer all the more for it.

I dropped from the computer chair onto my knees at the end of the bed, and while Cinta lay back, I eased each of her sneakers from her feet. I could feel the warmth escaping from inside and immediately there was that familiar odour that filled the air. I still wasn’t completely used to it, but it was getting better. I suppose if you worked in a sewage plant day after day, you’d eventually get used to it. Not to say that how’s Cinta’s feet smelled, but it was kind of ingraining itself in my mind and was becoming more acceptable to me. It was completely natural after all. That’s simply what happened when someone like Cinta worked out so much with all that effort. Girls sweat. I’d long called myself a feminist, so it seemed hypocritical to see Cinta’s sweating as some kind of criticism of her character.

Cinta wiggled her socked toes inches away from my face and wafted over a whole new scent of her foot smell. “Oh, that feels so good,” she moaned from up on the bed. “You can’t imagine how much my feet are hurting.” She sat up on the bed and looked down at me curiously. “How do they smell? Is it worse than usual?”

I glanced up at her, then gazed at her socked foot before moving my nose between the crevice of her big and second toe. While I saw the slightest smile take up home on her face, I took the biggest breath that I could muster, and immediately felt light-headed from the intensity of the stink. I backed off slightly, let out a cough, then felt my eyes crossing.

Cinta giggled, then lifted her foot and gripped my nose between her socked toes again. “I’ll take it the answer is yes.” She glanced towards my computer then pursed her lips, all the while keeping my nose clutched between her toes. “You know when you’re replying to your work emails, do you sign off as sock sniffer?”

I dropped my shoulders and loosened my neck, giving that familiar sign of: really? Was she really asking me something as ridiculous as that?

Cinta rolled her eyes and released my nose from her foot. Then she pointed her socked toes towards my mouth and wiggled the biggest one against my lips. I parted my mouth, and clutched at the material with my teeth, before Cinta pulled her foot back and stretched the sock. I had to reach up and roll the sock down as well, such was the glue-like sweat on her foot which fought as much as it could to keep her sock on.

Once it sprung free, I was greeted with the sight of Cinta’s bare, perspiring foot. There were marks carved into her skin from the tread of the sock and the tightness to which her sneakers had been tied. She spread her toes and wiggled them excitedly at finally being free from the oven in which they’d been trapped. As a result, my nose picked up a fresh scent of stinky toe sweat. Between each, I could make out a build up of sock fuzz mixed with toe-jam, that had caked together into a slime-like substance.

I glanced between Cinta and her toes a number of times, all the while her face remained blank. Her narrow eyes were watching me with interest, and I noticed her lips flutter a number of times, as if she was about to speak but had changed her mind. Eventually, she moved her foot closer to my face, wiggled her toes, then raised an eyebrow.

I leant and took her big toe straight into my mouth. I knew what that eyebrow raise meant without Cinta having to utter a single word. She’d worked hard on me and trained me to her tune so well that I could respond to the slightest of changes in her body language. My lips wrapped around her toe and formed a tight suction, while my tongue too curved to form itself to the shape.

I could immediately taste the saltiness of her workout, and while I began to move my mouth up and down her toe, I paid particular attention to slurping it so that Cinta could feel the suction. While I looked up at her, she stared straight back into my helpless eyes with nothing but a tiny smirk on her lips. She had a beautiful face, I could admit that, even if she was constantly cruel to me. Even after a strenuous workout she still looked stunning and I was finding myself in awe. The delicate features of her face were heightened by her black hair hanging loosely around her toned shoulders. I could see her perfectly formed navel between her leggings and crop top, which sported a cute little belly button ring.

Yes, I hated what she was doing to me, and the way in which she bullied me and didn’t give me a moments piece. However, things had gone far easier in the past weeks when I’d simply done what Cinta wanted. There had been no repeat of her pinning me to the floor, or violently shoving her toes in my mouth or involving Jeff in any way. I mean, she didn’t have to, Jeff was long gone, but still, Cinta seemed to appreciate when I just obeyed her.

She didn’t have to shove her toes into my mouth, because as had just happened, I willingly accepted them. I moved my lips and tongue up and down her toe with acceptance and in some ways: devotion. Not devotion to a lover but to the stronger woman. She’d taken what she’d wanted by force, me, and there was a part of me that almost respected her for that. It was an odd feeling and exceptionally difficult to justify, but it was there, within me, I could feel it. As a result, I couldn’t deny its existence.

Once her toe no longer tasted of that familiar salty sweat, I withdrew to allow her second toe to slip in my mouth along with the first one. I’d found this was the easiest way for what I’d labelled in my head: toe-jam extraction. It sounded vulgar, but there was no point skirting around the issue. That was basically what I was doing, after all, wasn’t it? Extracting Cinta’s toe-jam for her after she’d spent the past few hours building it up at the gym. That’s just what a spineless wimp did for the stronger woman of the house.

With both toes in my mouth, I was able to slide my tongue between and loosen any toe-jam in the gap with the tip. At the first point of contact, I instinctively withdrew my tongue due to the sharp, acrid taste. This was something that happened every time. However much I tasted Cinta’s toe-jam, the first contact always left me recoiling. This brought a giggle from Cinta, and she screwed up her face in disgust. “It’s like you never get used to the taste of my toe-jam, do you?”

I pulled my mouth off to answer her, “No, Cinta. It still tastes as bad as the first time.”

She smirked. “Good, now get that tongue back in there and get it all out.” She targeted those narrow, Asian eyes on me and I could still see a sparkle within them as I did her bidding.

I poked my tongue about and loosened up all of the toe-jam, then began digging it out, kind of using my tongue as a shovel to scoop it all up. Once it was in my mouth, I couldn’t help but screw my own face up in disgust as I tasted the horrid flavour all over again. It didn’t help that the texture was a mix of slime with crunchy bits mixed in, so I was forced to chew it before I could swallow. Cinta’s expression seemed to delight as she heard the sounds of her toe-grit being crunched by my teeth.

Once I could feel no more dirt between her toes, I sucked my way back up then scraped beneath her nails with my teeth. There always seemed to be extra sweaty dirt caked up beneath there, especially after one of her workouts. It was as if the pounding of the treadmill or road really squeezed it into every crevice. In some ways, my tongue and teeth did a better job getting into every nook than Cinta could herself with a towerl or sponge.

One by one, I moved between the toes on that foot, first sucking and then removing the toe-jam. Cinta watched me the whole time, marvelling that I could actually put myself through such a thing, but somehow delighting in it too. She’d said that she would never tire of seeing me do this for her, and that seemed to be true.

“God, I love this,” she said while she watched my tongue snake between her toes and dig out an extra thick piece of toe crud. “Seriously, this, like, never gets old. It’s hands down the best feeling ever. Being able to do this to someone. God, I love it.” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she closed them in seeming bliss. “Every strong woman needs to get herself a foot-sucking wimp, for real.”

“Yes, Cinta,” I mumbled between darts of my tongue.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes wide. “Hey, maybe I could even start a club or something? I could make it an exclusive membership thing, only for strong women that I see down the gym? Like a training guide of how to get your own wimp that does whatever you say.”

Oh, God. Please no, I thought. I didn’t even care about the connotations of her showing me off to anyone else. I was more concerned for the army of clones Cinta was probably capable of creating and the poor, shy women they’d be inflicted upon. Just imagine a load of Cinta’s running around and bullying weaker women at their feet?

“You think that’s a good idea, wimp?”

“Yes, of course, Cinta,” I said with a blush in my cheeks. My inner thoughts were mine alone, I wouldn’t dare air them to the unconditional master of my fate.

With the dirt scraped from beneath the nail of her pinky toe, Cinta leant forward and grasped a handful of my hair. Her grip was light and her fingers were barely applying any pressure. Still, she easily twisted my neck so that I was forced to stare up at her and look straight into those eyes filled with disdain. “You are such a loser,” she said. “Thank God Jeff is done with you.”

Her words hurt. I had accepted Jeff and I weren’t meant to be together, but still, I missed him. I longed for the way he held me and the feel of his soft lips on my own. How he smelled after a shower and the joy of waking up in a warm bed next to him. But all that was gone now, because of his younger sister and her undeniable will.

“What are you hoping for?” she asked. “That if you eat enough of my toe-jam you’ll somehow absorb my greatness?”

That wasn’t what I was hoping for at all, but it would have been nice if it actually happened. “I don’t know, Cinta,” I said. “I just do it because I know you want me to.”

She stroked my cheek with the other hand and grinned down at me. “That’s the right attitude. Now, lick those feet clean. Show your appreciation for my workout.”

She led my face towards the sole of her foot while she still lightly held my hair. As my tongue touched her sole, and she steered me up its length so that I licked up all of the sweat and occasional piece of sock fuzz, I thought about moments earlier.

Cinta was going for a shower, and I’d opened my mouth, as if on instinct, and now here I was, licking her foot once more. I’d sort of led myself into it. Perhaps it was a trap, and she never intended to simply leave for a shower, but I’d never know. Something within me had led me to speaking out without prompt. She was right to question me about it. What was I even asking? Was I happy she wasn’t going to demand I clean her feet with my mouth, or was I sad? I didn’t have a clue by this point. My job was to lick her feet clean, not think about such things.

Gradually, my own effort took over, and I began licking Cinta’s sole all over to the point that she actually released my hair and watched with fascination. “That’s it, wimp, you lick my feet. Show me the respect I deserve. Really get into it, just like that.”

And I did. Long licks up and down her sole while in the corner of my eye I could see Cinta’s face filled with satisfaction. The enjoyment of a woman that was totally in control and would never have to lower herself to such a level.

“Remember the first time you did this?” She lifted her arms above her head with her fingers spread and jiggled them around. “You can’t do this to me, Cinta! You can’t do this to me!” She burst out laughing and rolled her eyes. “Look how that turned out for you. Now you do it of your own free will.”

Free will, really? Okay, she hadn’t forced me this time or threatened me in any way, but there was certainly no free will, that was for sure.

“Anyway.” She flopped back down on to the bed and I could hear the sounds of her typing something on her phone. “Do the other foot. I have a date tonight and I need to shower and get ready soon.”

I paused in my licking. “A date?”

“Yes, Amy. A date. You got a problem with that?”

“Umm, no,” I said. “Just curious.” I pulled the sock free from the other foot, and was hit by the fresh sweaty smell all over again. The toe-jam between those toes looked even worse than the first, so I just got straight in there and stuffed my tongue between the first two and licked it straight out. The inevitable cringe at the taste followed.

“Woah, easy there,” Cinta said from the bed. “Seems like someone is hungry for my toe gunk.”

While I got to work removing the slime between her toes, I thought about how unfair it was that Cinta was able to go out on a date. She didn’t even give it any consideration either, it was just assumed that she could do that, whereas apparently, I couldn’t. I’d been happy with Jeff, and she’d taken that away from me because she felt I wasn’t worthy of her brother. Meanwhile, she was free to go out and date whenever she wanted. Maybe I was allowed too, as long as it wasn’t with her brother?

I pulled my lips from her toes. “Does this mean…?” I trailed off when I realised what I was about to ask was probably a foolish question.

“Does this mean what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, before enveloping Cinta’s big toe in my mouth and vigorously sucking its length. However, I’d barely run my lips up and down it twice before Cinta wriggled her toe free from my mouth.

She scooted forwards on the bed, and placed both of her bare feet on my kneeled thighs. She moved a finger beneath my chin then tilted my head so I was looking up at her. “When I ask you a question, Amy, you answer me, you know that. Don’t act like you’ve suddenly got a backbone, wimp.”

I gulped then nodded my head. “Yes, Cinta. I was just going to ask that since you’re going on a date and all. Does that mean I’m allowed to as well?”

Cinta’s hand shot to her mouth to stifle a snigger. “Really? You’re really asking me that?”

I looked towards the floor. “Yes...”

“I thought we’d already established where we stood with you and dating?”

“It’s just, since you can do it, and I can’t—”

“There’s a lot of things I can do that you can’t,” Cinta snapped. “Like run ten feet without losing my breath and telling people who give me attitude to go and fuck themselves.” She lifted a foot towards my face. “Like, if someone told me to lick their foot, I’d tell them to go to hell. Meanwhile…” She narrowed her eyes. “Lick my foot.”

Of course, I craned my neck to drag my tongue from heel to toe.

“See, total loser,” she said with a smirk.

“I guess.”

She then looked off towards the ceiling in thought. “But then…”

I looked at her hopefully. Wait, there was a but? There was never a but with Cinta. Perhaps she was reconsidering her treatment of me.

“But,” she said again. “There’s a lot of things you can do that I can’t either.”

“Like writing?” I interjected.

Her eyes narrowed again along with a wrinkle in her nose. “Eww, no. You think I can’t write? I might be Vietnamese, but I’ve lived here most of my life and I can speak English just fine. I could probably make as much as you do in your job.”

She glared at me expectantly and I nodded my agreement. “Yes, you probably could.” I didn’t believe a word of it, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Damn right I could,” she said with a pleased smile. “Anyway, as I was saying. There’s a lot of things you can do which I can’t. Let’s list them. Repeat them back after me, okay, wimp?”

I nodded.

She cackled then leant in close to me. “Lick feet.”

I groaned and let out a huff.

Cinta pounced and gripped my chin between her fingers. “Hey, no attitude.” She jiggled my face from side to side. “Repeat what I say.”

“Lick feet,” I mumbled through the force of her fingers on my cheeks.

“Suck toes.”

“Suck toes.”

“Eat toe-jam.”

“Eat toe-jam.”

Cinta released my face and fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles. “Oh, God, this is hilarious. Hey, Amy, that’s a mighty list of talents you have there.” She sat up again and looked at me with complete satisfaction. “Maybe you could add them all to your resume? Put them along with your other achievements like crappy girlfriend and spineless wimp. I could even help you, since you’ve admitted I’m just as good at writing as you.”

“But…”

Cinta raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

“But am I allowed to go on dates?” She was so invested in insulting me that the original question had been lost.

She raised one of her feet up and pointed her toes towards my mouth. “I’ve told you before,” she said, while grasping a handful of my hair. She dragged my head down till her toes were pressing against my lips, then gradually forced them in. “You don’t get to have a boyfriend, you get to lick and suck my nasty feet.” She jolted me around by the hair until I was pretty much gagging on her foot and I’d had my question well and truly answered.

I’d been sat back at my computer for about half hour with a fresh sweat sock stuffed in my mouth. Cinta had been in the shower the whole time. She loved enjoying long, hot, steaming showers, probably because she wasn’t paying for any of the utilities. Funnily enough, since returning to my computer chair, I’d actually got a lot of work done in that short amount of time. Sat there, with Cinta’s slouch sock dangling from my mouth, I felt calm and completely focused.

I could still taste all of the salty sweat and toe-jam that’d I’d licked from between her toes, but it didn’t matter at that point. All that mattered was getting the work finished before Cinta was done with her shower. That’s the instruction I’d been given. I was just about to hit send on an email of the first draft when Cinta came in draped in a bath robe.

“You finish?” She asked, while she wiped her hair dry.

I hit send and pulled her sock free from my mouth. “Yes, Cinta, just seconds ago.”

She took a seat on the bed. “Good, you keep earning that money so we can share this lovely house together.”

The house was lovely, the living situation was far from it.

Once her hair was dry, she began brushing it, then eyed me with curiosity. It was strange to see her Asian eyes without the usual black eyeliner poking out in those wings she favoured so much. She was wearing nothing beneath the bathrobe, but it was without the eyeliner that she seemed most naked. She picked up the hair towel and tossed it towards me. “Dry my feet off,” she said. “Make sure you get between the toes and don’t leave any water.”

I nodded, and dropped to my knees once more, then began towelling Cinta’s feet dry. It was probably the easiest of all of the tasks related to her feet that she’d ever given me. Hell, I’d take drying her feet any day of the week.

Once I’d dried the one foot off, Cinta rested it on my shoulder while I got busy making sure the second was completely free of water. I paid particular attention to jamming the towel between her toes so that there was none left.

“You ever given a pedicure before?”

I looked up at her with confusion, then glanced at my own bare fingernails. “Actually, I haven’t.”

“Do you reckon you’re capable of painting my nails for my date or will you likely screw it up?”

“There’s a good chance I’ll screw it up.” I didn’t see the point in lying, it would only get me in trouble further down the line.

Cinta snorted, clearly amused by my honesty. “Go get my nail kit. It’s in my room on the dresser. Pink bag.”

I was surprised that Cinta actually had a nail kit. Her toes always seemed perfectly painted so I assumed that she had them done professionally at a salon or something.

I went to her room, which was somewhere I hadn’t been since she’d moved in. It was generally tidy, as she seemed to have a minimalist attitude, however, there were a load of clothes that she’d just thrown on the floor. She’d likely been going through her closest earlier looking for the right thing to wear. I assumed the small, black mini-dress laying neatly on the bed was the outfit she’d settled upon. On the floor were a matching pair of black stilettos which must have had about a five to six-inch heels. Wearing those, Cinta would probably be as tall as me, possibly even taller. I retrieved the nail kit and returned to my room, where Cinta was still sat on the bed in the bath robe.

She nodded to the floor at her feet and I resumed position, where she planted the ball and toes of one foot on my knee, her arch and heel raised. The position of her foot almost made her seem imperious above me. “There’s a bottle with clear liquid in there. Use a cotton swab to remove the current polish.”

She was wearing black polish at that moment, which suited her olive skin well, and appeared to be pretty much immaculate. There were no scuffs or blemishes, no scratches or chips. It was odd that she wanted it changed in the first place considering it would have matched well with the dress and shoes she’d left out. However, this was her choice to make, not mine, so I dabbed the swab in the liquid and wiped over the polish on each toe until it was it was completely removed.

It was actually the first time I’d seen Cinta’s nails without polish, which was surprising considering how up close and personal I’d gotten to her feet. Another surprise was the toenail of her right big toe was slightly bruised beneath the surface. I’d never realised this since it was always hidden beneath her polish, though it made sense considering the amount of time she spent at the gym. She’d been putting in a hell of a lot of miles for the ultra-marathon, so one bruised toe was actually a good result, all things considered.

Cinta replaced the first foot with the second and I repeated the process of removing the polish. She’d been busy above me talking on the phone to someone, who from the sound of it was the lucky guy that she was going on a date with later that evening. I say lucky, but I suppose that depends on the side of Cinta that he actually got to experience. If it was the same side I was constantly in the presence of; God help the poor bastard.

I was ready to paint her nails, but I wasn’t about to disturb her from the phone call. So, I just knelt there and waited at her feet as if I was a little pet. Cinta carried on the phone call for a few more minutes, all the while she spoke in an enthusiastic and animated way. At some points she was even putting on a kind of baby talk, which was a far cry from the way she spoke to me on a daily basis. You’d almost think she was cute and innocent from her voice.

Once she finished the call, Cinta looked down at me and said, “What are you waiting for, wimp? Get on and paint them. I don’t have all day.”

There was the usual snotty tone I was used to. I tipped the pink bag upside down and looked at all of the different colours. Pinks, blues, oranges, reds, greens; there were all sorts. I held up a number of shades against Cinta’s skin to see which would suit. The pink looked gorgeous, so I settled upon that.

However, as I was about to put the first coat of paint on, Cinta pushed her toes against my forehead and said, “What are you doing?”

“Painting your toes?”

“Black, idiot.”

“Huh?”

“I want black. I know you saw the dress and shoes in my room. I want all black tonight. Black hair, black lipstick, black dress, black shoes, black eyeliner, black mascara and definitely black nails.”

“But…why? Why’d I remove the old polish if you wanted the same colour?”

Cinta shrugged and smirked. “Why not?”

I almost growled beneath my breath.

“Oh, quit your whining, wimp. You needed the practice and now you’re gonna get it.”

I sighed, then began applying the black polish to Cinta’s dainty toes. She sat watching me the entire time, occasionally wiggling them as if to make my life just that little bit harder. I wasn’t fantastic at it, being honest, and a number of times I accidentally painted her skin instead of the nail. I was ordered to immediately remove it with the clear liquid and start again.

It took two attempts to complete the task to Cinta’s satisfaction, and even then, she made it clear that she wasn’t impressed. I thought we were done, but then she said, “Get down and blow on them.”

I crouched down and blew on her nails over and over again until I figured they were dry. I touched the big one with my fingertip and learned that, no, it wasn’t dry. I smudged the polish and had to do that toe all over again. The whole process must have easily taken an hour or so, and by the time I was finished, Cinta had barely half hour to get ready before she had to leave.

As she left the room in her bathrobe, I expected her to be angry because she was so short on time. However, she simply said, “When you look this good already, it takes no time at all, Amy.”

She wasn’t lying either, fifteen minutes later she came into my room completely decked out in her outfit. My jaw dropped, actually dropped. Now, I knew that Cinta was a good-looking girl, but I only ever saw her relaxed around the house or wearing her gym clothes. The majority of the time she was wearing sneakers, leggings and that signature snapback. So, to actually see her dressed up for a date was something else. Whoever the guy was, he was extremely lucky. Well, until he found out what she was really like.

In the stilettos, the strength of her toned calves really stood out and without the usual loose-hanging vest that she wore over her crop top, I could see that her breasts were a nice size, right above that flat tummy. The guy would be able to see it all too and would likely find her irresistible.

“Have fun,” I said, trying to sound amicable. “I hope it goes well.”

“You ready?” she asked, while she waited by my bedroom door.

“For what?”

“You’re driving me, of course.”

“Am I?” I asked curiously. That was news to me. I’d pictured myself having a quiet evening in front of the television for once. I’d actually be able to watch my own shows and not have Cinta seize the remote.

“Uh, duh, yeah, of course you are, you think I’m gonna walk there in these heels.” She lifted a foot behind her and ran her finger along the length of the stiletto heel.

“I thought you would take an Uber or something.”

Cinta squinted as if I’d said something ridiculous. “Why the hell would I pay for an Uber when I have you? You think I want some dweeb hitting on me the whole way?”

“Well, no, I guess not. I just thought—”

“Well, how about…don’t! Don’t think, Amy, just do as you’re told.” Her eyes appeared menacing and her teeth were gritted as if venomous fangs. There was something terrifying about her at that moment, and I didn’t wish to incur any further wrath.

“I’m sorry, Cinta,” I said. I dropped to my knees and shuffled over towards her, then once at her feet, I prostrated myself and placed a soft kiss on each stilettoed foot.

“Fine,” she said. “I’d usually keep you doing that for a while, but we don’t have the time.” She nudged me away with a foot. “Go and get the car started. I’ll be down in a second.”

On the drive to her date, Cinta took off her stilettos and kicked her bare feet up onto the dash board. “Ugh, they’re hurting so much already and all I did was walk to the car.”

I kept my eyes on the road as best I could. “Wasn’t there something else you could have worn?”

“Hell no, I need my legs looking fine.”

“They always look fine,” I said, before immediately blushing.

I could see Cinta turn and look at me. “Have a thing for my legs, do you?”

I gulped and felt flustered. “No, I mean, no, I don’t, not like that, I just mean, you have nice legs. I mean they’re toned.”

Cinta reached over and pat the top of my head. “Okay, calm down. You’ve got a thing for my legs, it’s fine. I don’t blame you since you make out with my feet on a daily basis.” She began laughing and wiggled her toes on the dashboard.

“I don’t make out with them,” I whined. “I only do that because you make me do it.”

“And why’s that, Amy?”

I could feel my bottom lip beginning to tremble. “Because…because I’m a wimp.”

“Awww, that’s right.” She rubbed my cheek affectionately with the back of her hand. “My little wimp.” An amused snicker immediately followed, before Cinta’s feet disappeared from the dashboard and I felt her shuffling around in the seat next to me.

“Cinta, could we talk straight for a moment, please? I do everything you say. Could we just ease up on all of the wimp—”

I was abruptly stopped from finishing the sentence by Cinta shoving her toes into my mouth, right there while I was driving the car. It took me completely by surprise and I almost veered off the road. I kept one hand on the steering wheel, but grabbed her ankle with the other and tried to pull it free from my mouth. However, Cinta used her other leg to hook behind my head and keep me in place.

While she was doing this to me, Cinta was convulsing with laughter because causing an accident is apparently hilarious in her eyes. I could feel her toes wiggling their way further into my mouth and rather than their usual sweaty flavour I was overcome by fresh nail polish. I tried to keep the car straight, however, all the while I was conscious that we were out in public and anyone else driving by could see I had a foot shoved in my mouth.

Still, Cinta laughed even more, then amongst fits of giggles where she was struggling to keep her breath, she said, “See, I’m not the only one going on a date tonight. You get to date my foot. Look at you”—she gripped my tongue between her toes—“going for some tongue action on the first date too.” More laughter followed.

I managed to yank her foot from my mouth momentarily. “Cinta, please, stop,” I said, before she jammed it in once more and increased the pressure of her other foot on my neck.

It was pointless trying to resist, so I did what I do best, I relented. I gave up and let Cinta move her toe in and out of my mouth as if I was giving it a blowjob, right there in the car while we drove down the street. Throughout, I was mortified, but it was just a further display of how I always ended up at Cinta’s feet, whatever the situation.

Following Cinta’s directions, we arrived at a popular retail park that was made up of a number of bars, restaurants and department stores. Thankfully, she withdrew her foot just as we rolled into the parking lot and there were other people around. I parked up while Cinta put her stilettos back on.

“Okay, so I’ll be back in around three hours,” she said while opening the door.

“Okay, I’ll make sure I’m back for then.”

Cinta turned and looked at me curiously. “Where are you going?”

“Back home.”

She snickered. “Umm, no you’re not. You’ll wait right here. If the date is terrible then I’ll need to get away quickly, and you’re my ride.”

My face dropped. “But you might be gone hours. What am I supposed to sit here and do?”

She shrugged, then her face lit up and she reached into her handbag. “Here, you can suck on one of these.” She took out a rolled-up pair of ankle socks. They were a spare she carried around in case her feet started to hurt while she was wearing heels. I expected her to hand them to me, but instead she just stuffed them straight into my mouth.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving me alone in the parking lot with a pair of socks in my mouth. I watched her stride off towards one of the bars in the distance, walking with such posture and elegance that no one would expect that she spent most hours of the day in a pair of sneakers.

I, meanwhile, had some time to reflect. It was actually ridiculous that I was going to sit there and do nothing for hours. If she’d warned me, at least I could have brought my laptop and got some work down. I could probably just leave too. If I drove off and returned two hours later, it was highly likely that Cinta wouldn’t even notice. But there was a chance, a tiny chance, that she would indeed notice, and then I’d be in for it. Perhaps, as she said, the date was going terribly and she wanted an escape or maybe she would just come out and check on me; I certainly wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that. I couldn’t take the risk of leaving, because the consequences of being caught were unthinkable.

So, I sat there, and waited, and waited, and waited. I put the car radio on for a while and played a game on my phone, which kept me busy for a while. But still, it was annoying and frustrating to be stuck there just wasting the time away. I thought of Cinta; was she enjoying her date? Laughing along with her suitor while they shared jokes and cocktails? Many people walked by and I imagined the kinds of lives they were living, all far better than my own, with no Asian tyrant ruling over them.

It was actually two hours later when Cinta came back to the car, which was a pleasant surprise as I was expecting her to take the full three.

“Hooooome,” she said in a whine. “Take me home. Might feet are killing me in these heels.”

“Yes, Cinta,” I said.

Suddenly, she turned her head and shot me a filthy glare. “Did you take my socks out of your mouth?” She then noticed them on the dashboard, picked them up and threw them at my head.

I’d removed her socks shortly after she’d left and tossed them on the dashboard. My plan had been to slip them back in when I saw her approaching, however, I mustn’t have been paying attention properly because she’d opened the door and sat in the car before I realised. Once she’d spoken, I’d forgotten altogether.

“Ummm, yes, I did.” There was no point in denying it.

“How dare you? I give you a gift, and you throw it away.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, you hadn’t worn them,” I said. “They tasted stale.”

There was silence in the car. It wasn’t a lie either, they were Cinta’s spare socks that she kept in her purse. They were for emergencies and she hadn’t actually worn them at all. They tasted as if they’d been stuck on the shelf for years, not like the intense flavour of her sweaty gym socks.

“What exactly are you saying?” Cinta asked. “Wait, are you saying you like how my gym socks taste? You actually like it?” She began laughing hysterically. “Oh my God, and all this time I thought I was punishing you, and you actually like it!”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” I almost shouted in a panic. “I’m just saying these ones tasted stale because they hadn’t been worn.”

“Oh my God, Amy. Listen to the words coming out of your mouth.”

I thought back over what I’d just said. It made total sense to me?

Cinta placed her hand on my knee. “Every day, I make you suck on my dirty gym socks while you work. Not once, not once have you ever taken them out and thrown them away. The one time I make you do it with a clean pair, and you take them out!”

“I…didn’t mean, wait, what, no, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Hell yes, it is! You like the way my socks taste, Amy.” She grabbed my face by the cheeks and turned my head so I had to look her in the eyes. “My stinky, sweaty, disgusting gym socks that I wear for hours on the treadmill. You like the way they taste, and you love sucking the flavour out of them.” She then burst into laughter right in my face. “Oh my God, this is brilliant. You’re completely addicted to my foot sweat now, and you’re too stupid to even realise it.”

Was she right? I thought about what she was saying. I really did keep her socks in my mouth whenever I was working and, in some ways, I did fall into a kind of relaxation while sucking them. It helped to focus my mind and I often got a lot of work done while I was in that zone. But…I didn’t like it? I tolerated it, for sure, because I was in total fear of Cinta, not because I actually enjoyed tasting her foot sweat.

However, how could I explain taking the unused pair out of my mouth? Instead of saying I’d just taken them out because I didn’t want them in my mouth while I waited, I said it was because of the way they tasted. I was the one that had put that idea into Cinta’s head and now I was the one having to try and talk my way out of it. It was a pickle and I couldn’t see a viable escape route. She had me well and truly cornered.

“Admit it!” she said. “Admit you like how my foot sweat tastes!”

“I…I…I” I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t admit it because it wasn’t the truth. I hated it, I hated the way her feet and socks tasted. It made me feel sick to my stomach. I only did it because Cinta drilled it into me for weeks that she was a better, stronger woman than I was and that I was a wimp. That I deserved to have her feet shoved in my mouth because I was too weak to stop her. That’s the only reason I allowed it to happen, not because I actually liked it.

But, as I sat there in the car, staring straight into those narrow, Asian eyes with the eyeliner wings poking out, I felt even weaker than usual. The toned, muscles of her arms and shoulders as she held me in place and laughed straight in my face. I felt overwhelmed and insecure, even more so than I was used to.

“Admit it,” Cinta said again, and she shook my head up and down. “Stop being a wimp for once in your life and admit you love the taste of my feet.”

“But, I don’t,” I whined. “I hate it.”

“Oh, please, then why do you suck my socks so much? Look at earlier, when you thought I wasn’t going to let you lick my feet clean after my workout, you were so upset that you had to say something.”

“That’s not what happened at all!”

“That’s exactly what happened, Amy.” She sneered her pleased, superior grin right in my face. “Now, we’re not going anywhere until you admit it.”

I remained tight-lipped and Cinta held my face in place.

“Admit it,” she said again. “Admit you’d rather suck my toes than my brother’s dick.”

“What the hell, Cinta?” I was shocked, even after everything we’d been through, that she’d speak in such a vulgar way about her own brother.

“Fine,” she released my head and then began fumbling with the strap of her stiletto heel. When she couldn’t get a good grasp, she swung a foot up onto the dashboard and squinted her eyes while unhooking it. A moment later, she pulled the shoe free from her foot, and I saw that the material had left an impression on the top of her skin. On top of that, her pinky toe was all red and sore.

Before I could argue my case any further, she’d turned in her seat and wiped her sweaty foot straight down the side of my face from my hair to my chin. It took me completely by surprise, and I was left staring with my mouth open in shock. Her foot was wet and slippery, after the past two hours in the stilettos, and I could feel the moistness of her sweat on my cheek.

Cinta held her leg beneath the knee and dangled her foot in the air a few inches in front of me. I could smell the odour emitting from between her toes, which was only taunting me further after the brazen wiping along my face. My mouth moved to say something, but no words came out. Then I noticed Cinta’s eyes were watching me intently. She gave a pronounced blink, then looked towards her wiggling toes, then back to my eyes. She did the same thing a second time, though finishing it with a nod towards her foot.

“I know you want it,” she said. “I know you can’t resist the taste of my foot sweat anymore.”

I shook my head in the negative, but I my legs were beginning to tremble and I could feel a hot rush running down the length of my spine.

“You don’t even like boys anymore, do you, Amy? You only like toe-jam.”

“No…” I said, though there was a clear waver in my voice, which Cinta immediately seized upon.

“Oh, you sound unsure?” She looked towards her foot again, wiggled her toes, then moved it a couple of inches towards me. “Come on, wimp, I know you want it. You want these toes in your mouth, don’t you? You miss them. It feels wrong when your mouth is empty and not filled with my foot, right?”

I broke eye contact and stared at nothing particular. “Ugh, what, I don’t know.”

“You sound anxious,” she said, before patting my leg again with her other hand. “Why don’t you take a deep breath. It’ll help you relax.”

I breathed out, then took the deepest breath I could, which of course, was filled with Cinta’s foot sweat since her toes were pretty much right in my face. My nose twitched and I almost lost control of my eyes for a moment, such was the exhilarating fragrance of her sweat. I don’t know why, but even though I hated the smell, there was something fascinating about it. Cinta was a stunning girl, and yet, she had these feet that built up a stink and toe-jam so easily. No one else knew this about her. Geez, her date that was wining and dining her moments earlier had no clue what was going on in those stiletto heels. Yet, I knew it all, I’d experienced it, and under Cinta’s tutorship, I’d appreciated it. There was something strangely intimate about it, despite it being a situation that had been forced upon me.

I glanced one more time at Cinta’s face and she raised her eyebrow, then she nodded towards her foot, and my eyes did as they were told and followed. There they were wiggling away, those olive-skinned toes with the black nail polish that I’d applied myself only hours earlier. Not once, but twice, because they deserved the best.

I tried to fight it, I swear I did, but while Cinta’s lips curled into a smirk, I leant forward and wrapped my lips around her big toe. I looked her in the eyes while my tongue felt the burn of her salty sweat, then had to close them out of total shame. I filtered out Cinta’s laughter as I focused on all that mattered at that point, sucking her toe, because she had expected me to and I, being a wimp, couldn’t resist.

I moved through them one by one, as she silently fed them to me, watching with amusement at my willingness to literally eat the sweat and dirt straight from her feet. Once she was satisfied, she withdrew her foot, and didn’t say another word for the whole journey home. She just sat in the passenger seat with a satisfied smile.

Once we were home, I followed her to her bedroom in a daze and removed her stilettos while she sat on the edge of her bed, yawning and stretching her arms.

“They hurt so much,” she said. “My feet simply aren’t built for shoes like this.”

“No,” I said in a breathy whisper. “They’re built for my mouth.” I had to pinch myself to check it was actually me who had said those words.

Cinta looked down at me with absolute shock, an expression completely out of place on her face. She motioned to say something, then bit her tongue, before a pleased smile replaced her wide mouth. She lifted a foot and I kissed it with respect.

I spent the next hour sat at the end of the bed while she lay back, rubbing the aches and pains from her feet while she told me all about how her date had gone. He was a nice guy, I learned, but Cinta hadn’t given him any idea of whether she was interested or not. Once she finally fell asleep, I tucked her in and returned to my own room.

I sat in bed, completely dressed, and stayed up later than I normally would. I just sat there, against the headboard in silence, trying to make sense of everything that had happened that night. Things felt different, like I’d gained some kind of element of control of my life again. It felt weird, but oddly, freeing. Was it better that I wasn’t just doing these things because Cinta told me to? I was doing them because I wanted to, apparently, if that was even the case. I’d been confused in the car, but I couldn’t deny that it felt right when I slipped that toe into my mouth amidst Cinta’s watchful gaze.

The next day, Cinta returned from the gym as usual and snapped her fingers. “Bring the footstool,” she said, before flopping onto the couch. “Then get down on your knees, wimp.”

I was taken aback, because I thought things may have changed slightly, the way we’d interacted the previous evening before she’d drifted off to sleep. I thought there was a new understanding between us. I’d worship and accept my place was at Cinta’s feet, and she’d stop being so cruel to me, instead treating me as some sort of pet. That’s the way I had processed and visualised things as I’d sat awake the night before.

I did as Cinta demanded, then knelt before her feet. I leant in and placed a soft kiss on the bottom of each of her sneakers in the hope that it would placate her and buy me some sympathy.

“We need to have a talk, Amy,” she said, while looking at her fingernails. “I think you may have misunderstood something last night.”

Both my heart and stomach sank at those words. “Umm, sure, Cinta?”

“Take off my sneaks first.”

I did as instructed, loosening the laces and slipping each sneaker from her foot. She was wearing black slouch socks so it was difficult to see how dirty they were, though from the funky smell, I’m sure there was all sorts of disgusting mess going on inside them.

“Kiss my socks,” she said.

And I kissed each of her socks on the sole of her foot, feeling the sweaty dampness on my lips. I licked my lips straight after, almost instinctively, and shuddered at the taste.

Cinta snorted. “I totally saw that, you licked your lips. You can’t get enough, can you?”

I blushed in response. Just what the hell had she done to me? Less than a month ago I was dating her brother, and now I was willingly licking her foot sweat from my lips.

“Anyway,” she said. “If you think I’m going to stop treating you like the wimp you so clearly are because you got all loved up with my feet last night, then you’re in for a reality check.”

I sighed and looked towards the floor, lost in the thought of us having something closer to a normal interaction. Couldn’t I be a pet, a servant? Anything other than a vessel for Cinta to exert her sadism.

“Is that what you were hoping for?” she asked. “For me to pretend you’re not a wimp?”

“Kind of.”

“Well, I’m afraid I enjoy treating you like the loser you are too much. I told you that right at the beginning, and that’s never going to change. You can either embrace it, take whatever I dish out and behave or keep acting up. It’s up to you. Either way, you’re down at my feet, where you belong in life.”

I sighed again. “It’s just…I’ll be good, Cinta, I swear. I’ll do whatever you say, willingly, but please, could you go easy on me with all of the name calling and everything? It gets me down. I’ve accepted you’re the stronger woman than me. I’ve even accepted I’m not good enough to date Jeff, but still, nothing ever seems good enough for you.”

Cinta grinned mercilessly. “And nothing ever will be, wimp. You better get used to that.” She snapped her fingers again. “Now take off my socks and show these feet just how much you love them. I want to hear you slurping and sucking all over them. Show me how you used to kiss my brother.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured Jeff. There he was with his sharp Asian features, his triangular torso and washboard abs. I opened my eyes and ripped Cinta’s socks from her feet, tossing them aside, and went straight in with a long lick up the sole of her left foot. Then, I closed my eyes and kissed my way up to her big toe, imagining it was Jeff’s lips. I moaned in passion while slipping my tongue between her toes and making love to them with my mouth. “Oh, Jeff,” I mumbled, while my tongue darted between her big and second toe, then I swallowed both into my mouth and sucked with all my being.

“Wow,” Cinta said. “That’s probably the greatest and most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. I wish I could record this and send a video to Jeff.”

I popped my mouth from her toes and knelt there with saliva dribbling down my chin. “Please don’t do that, Cinta.”

“Geez.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. Just when I think you’re the most pathetic sight I’ve ever seen, you go and prove you’re capable of so much more.” She reached down and stroked my cheek. “Such a good little loser, you are, Amy.”

I blushed at either the humiliation or the compliment, my mind was so all over the place that I wasn’t sure which it was anymore.

Cinta then raised her eyebrows and nodded back at her feet. “Your lovers are still waiting for you.”

Back in I went again, going straight for her toe-jam and digging it out from between her toes with the tip of my tongue. I scooped it up and greedily ate it all down. I didn’t even care how it tasted anymore, I just wanted to please Cinta the way I used to please her brother. I was showing her workout, and her tired feet, the respect they deserved after they’d been working so hard at the gym. What had I been doing? Sat at home on my butt, typing away on my computer. There was no comparison between the effort the two of us had been putting in.

She crossed her feet at the ankles and showed me the other, completely untouched by my tongue and gleaming in sweat. “Thank you so much for working out, Cinta,” I said, before dragging my tongue from her heel up to her toes and scrunching my eyes up at the saltiness of her sweat. “You’re such a strong woman.” I licked the length of her foot again, and then along the groove beneath her toes, hoovering up all of the black sock lint that had clung to her clammy skin. “And you deserve this,” I said.

“Ewww,” she said while screwing up her face in disgust. “I can totally see all of the dirt on your tongue.” Her eyes then narrowed and she relaxed back into the couch and smirked. “Keep going. Lot’s more to clean, wimp.”

“Yes, Cinta, whatever you say.”

“Ohhh, I like that, very good, wimp. See, you’re a lousy girlfriend, but an excellent foot sucker.” A cackle of Cinta’s high-pitched laughter filled the room.

I dipped my head and was about to tongue her foot again, when Cinta leant forward, grasped my hair and pulled me up towards her. She twisted my neck so that I was looking up into her face. “How does it feel, Amy? Knowing you’re licking the feet of the girl that took your boyfriend away from you? I want to see it in your eyes while you tell me.”

She held me right up close so that there was barely inches between our eyes. Those beautiful, Asian eyes that teased they belonged to the most innocent of girls, when the truth was anything but. “It feels…” I took a gulp and had to swallow down some sock fuzz that had become lodged behind my teeth. “It feels devastating.”

A vicious smile settled upon Cinta’s face. She held my chin with the manicured fingers of one hand, while the other caressed my cheek. “Tell me more.”

“It feels devastating, but at the same time, right.”

“How do you mean?”

“That because you did it to me, it’s okay.”

She smiled straight into my face. “Let me see that dirt in your mouth again.”

I opened my mouth wide, so that she could see, and Cinta leant over me and looked straight down. Then I felt something weird, wet and warm dripping into my mouth, and before I could realise what it was, Cinta forced my mouth closed with her hands and held it shut.

“Swallow it,” she said, while keeping a firm grip on my mouth. “Swallow it!”

I spluttered and tried to spit out what was obviously Cinta’s spit, but she held firm on my mouth and in the struggle; I accidentally swallowed it. When she heard me gulp, she burst out laughing, released me and pushed me back to the floor.

“Ugh.” I yacked up, trying to make myself sick while Cinta cackled herself into a stupor up on the couch.

“Oh My God,” she said. “You totally just swallowed my spit. This is hilarious.”

I spluttered some more, then I managed to say between gags, “I can’t believe you just did that to me.”

Cinta composed herself, and she returned her feet to the footstool. “Really? You’re that surprised?”

“The feet are bad enough, but spitting in my mouth?”

“What if I want to do it again?”

I trembled in my kneeling position and backed away a couple of feet. “Please don’t, Cinta. Please don’t do that again.”

She narrowed her eyes. “But what if I really, really, want to? Are you going to let me?”

“I…I don’t know.”

She crooked a finger and beckoned me to come closer, but I shook my head in defiance. Cinta then clapped her hands loudly, which startled me, then she snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor next to her. “Get over here right now, wimp.”

“Please, Cinta, please.”

“Now,” she said with rage.

Her tone struck fear into me, and I tentatively shuffled over towards her. Once I was near, I knelt and looked up at her. Cinta grasped my chin again, then she positioned herself above me.

“Open your mouth,” she said, and I did so, despite knowing what was about to come. I watched as she pursed her lips, then allowed a long droplet of saliva to creep from between her lips and dangle down into my mouth.

I waited in anticipation to feel her spittle touch my tongue, but just as it was about to, Cinta sucked it back up into her mouth, then rolled back onto the couch in a fit of giggles. “Oh, wow,” she said amongst tears of laughter. “You were going to actually let me do it.”

She still had me held beneath her with my mouth open so I was only able to garble some gibberish in response.

“Wait.” She grabbed her phone, then she performed the whole ceremony again. This time, when the spit was about to touch my tongue, she took a selfie, before sucking back up once again. “Oh, this is too much,” she said.

I was annoyed she was taking pictures, but more thankful that she wasn’t actually spitting in my mouth. So, much was her enjoyment from the whole situation, that she ran off to shower like a giddy teenager and completely forgot that I hadn’t finished licking her feet clean. That time, with her spit still fresh in my mouth, I wasn’t about to remind her.

Things carried on pretty much that way for the next week. Cinta went on another date with that guy, but again, things didn’t seem to move on further than the date itself. I sort of had respect for her in that way, she wasn’t selling herself short or giving anything up easy. Clearly the guy was still interested, from the way he was blowing up her phone on a daily basis.

I continued rubbing and cleaning her feet every day, willingly on my part, though Cinta continued to taunt and mock me throughout. The names hurt me more than the things she made me do to her feet, but I realised that was just something she needed to do. It was kind of like a part of her personality that she needed to constantly exert her authority and dominance.

I realised that I too had grown some kind of, well, I don’t know whether addiction is the word, but I kind of liked being in contact with Cinta and her feet. It was difficult to explain, but since Jeff had disappeared from my life, it was the only physical contact I’d been permitted. I was growing used to it and found that the longer the situation went on, the more I needed it. I liked the feel of Cinta’s soft skin when my tongue was running along it, or the sweaty, stinky scent from her socks. It was oddly becoming appealing to me and it was better than the alternative of zero human interaction and contact.

I’d sit awake at night and hate myself. Decrying how Cinta had completely warped and twisted my mind. That I’d been a regular girl until she’d entered my life and somehow she’d forced this weirdness on me. Not only did I lick feet and eat toe-jam on a daily basis, but I apparently now enjoyed it too.

At the Friday of that week, I’d been allowed to stay at home, even though it was our usual gym day together, where I would be Cinta’s towel girl. I had work to do, and when it came to paying the bills and keeping a roof over our heads, Cinta was more than accommodating. After all, since I paid the bills; she didn’t have to.

Once she returned however, I found myself in the throes of doing push ups. Make no mistake, this wasn’t a sudden interest I’d taken on because Cinta was a personal trainer.

“Ten,” came Cinta’s bored voice from above me while I dipped. “That’s a good wimp. Keep it up!”

I’d been on the floor doing those push ups for the last few minutes and there was already sweat dripping from my forehead. I was hardly one for exercise at the best of times, but when I did attempt a workout, push ups were never top of my routine. Cinta hardly cared about that though.

Her heel ground into the back of my head. Oh yes, to make the push ups even more difficult, Cinta had taken to crossing her sneakered feet atop my head, simply just because she could.

This was a new routine that had been added to my crappy existence for the past few days. Simply being her footrest after her gym workouts wasn’t enough anymore. She had to make it painful for me too. Cinta had tightened the leash and I was pretty much at her beck and call whenever she wanted. There was simply no room for resistance anymore, since in her opinion, I enjoyed being at her feet. I myself was struggling to deny her reasoning.

I dropped my chest down to the floor once again, and my trembling arms struggled to return me back up. The weight of Cinta’s legs made the push ups unbearable and I was surprised I’d completed the amount I already had.

“Eleven,” came another monotone call. “Four more to go. Don’t stop now.”

I dropped down again, but as my chest touched the floor, I already knew I wasn’t making it back up. There was simply no strength left in my arms and my whole upper body was rattling from the effort. I managed to gush out a sorry, just before I collapsed flat on the floor. The weight of Cinta’s legs came with me and the heel of her sneaker harshly dug into my scalp.

“Oh, boo,” I heard her saying from up above. I felt both of her sneakered feet rest on my back. “You really are pathetic, Amy, you know that, right?” She ground her sneakers into my back, twisting my skin painfully beneath my t-shirt. “I spent two hours working out at the gym, and you can’t even do fifteen push ups.”

“I’m sorry,” I wheezed against the floor. They were hardly regular push ups, were they? I couldn’t imagine Cinta having the weight of someone’s legs on her head while she worked out at the gym.

“I give you my personal training for free, I’m trying to get you into shape and how do you thank me? You fail, just like you fail at everything. Being a strong woman, being a girlfriend, being brave. Fail, fail, fail!”

I closed my eyes and groaned into the floor. “I’m sorry for being such a failure, Cinta.”

It seemed I’d been saying these words a hell of a lot recently. If I wasn’t admitting I was a wimp, then I was announcing to the world that I was a failure. I mean, I had my own place, I had a decent paying job, I had a good-looking…well, not anymore, but I used to have a good-looking boyfriend. But no, I was a failure because a diminutive Asian tyrant had taken over my life. I was a failure because rather than confrontation I chose to lick the sweat from between my bully’s toes.

I felt Cinta’s sneakered feet lift from my back and I could suddenly breathe more easily. “Is that how you’ve been taught to apologise, wimp?”

Immediately, despite being in agony, I clambered into a kneeling position before Cinta and bowed my head. She was sat imperiously in the armchair, with a hand on each rest. She still wore her workout clothes, a tight pair of grey leggings as well as a loose-fitting vest over an equally tight crop top. Around her armpits and between her legs were obvious darkened stains of sweat. I guess she really had spent a good two hours at the gym. “I’m sorry, Cinta, for being so pathetic.”

I was startled by a snap of her fingers. “Get the footstool, wimp. You can show me how really sorry you are.”

I scurried over and brought the footstool back. I expected Cinta to raise her legs, but instead she just sat there and waited for me to lift them one by one. Next, she crossed one sneakered foot over the other and looked at me expectantly. “Grovel and apologise properly,” she said with a devious smirk. There was a clear joy in her Asian eyes, yet I knew it was all at my expense.

“Yes, Cinta.” I grasped a shoelace between my fingertips but stopped short of pulling it loose, as Cinta raised the palm of her hand.

“Kiss the bottoms of my sneaks,” she said, that smirk ever present. “You can appreciate every part of my workout. Since you sucked so much at your own one.”

I delicately placed devoted kisses on the rubber soles of Cinta’s sneakers. They were fairly clean as she only wore them indoor at the gym and I was always there to drop her off and pick her up afterwards. She had a separate pair for her outdoor running when she was training for the ultra-marathon. Those were beaten up and plastered in mud, but thankfully, she’d only had me clean them a few times with a toothbrush, never my mouth. Though, as I scrubbed away, I knew it was only a matter of time before it was my tongue dislodging the caked-on mud.

I’d only been kissing her sneakers for about thirty seconds when she roughly nudged me in the cheek with the toe of one. “Take them off, wimp. Get those fingers working.”

I nodded my head, and unlaced Cinta’s sneakers. This was back to part of our regular routine. I grabbed the heel and toe of the first one, and tried to wedge it from her foot. However, her socks were so damp from the sweat, that the sneaker was kind of glued onto her foot. It took such a real effort to loosen it, that when it finally popped free I tumbled backwards from my knees clutching her sneaker.

Cinta of course found this hilarious. She burst into laughter and said with derision, “Oh, look at you, Amy, holding the most important thing in your life like it’s your baby.”

I returned to my knees and put the sneaker aside, then concentrated on removing the next one, which actually came off a lot more easily.

All the while, Cinta was sat regally while she watched me. Her eyes were narrowed and her hair hung casually over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing her signature snapback as she removed it during the car ride home. Yes, that’s right, I’d been given the day off from towel duty, but I still had to drop her off and pick her up. “You know that’s the closest you’ll ever get to one, right?” she said.

I glanced at her sneaker, then looked up at her hopefully. “I won’t have to go near it ever again?”

Cinta shook her head dismissively then rolled her eyes. “Not my sneak, you idiot. You’ll be getting up close and personal with them on a daily basis forever.” She leant forward and lifted my chin so that I was looking straight into her Asian eyes. “I’m talking about a baby.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You won’t be having a baby, ever.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Why…why would you say something like that, Cinta?”

Suddenly, a huge grin came across her face. “Because I’m saying you can’t have one. What you gonna do about it?”

I blinked and swallowed again. This was way more serious than anything she’d ever said before. I was a wimp, we’d established that. She’d taken her brother from me and taken over my house. But taking away my right to be a mother? This was a whole other level of cruelty and it was astonishing that Cinta actually thought she had any say in my choice in the matter. She was attempting to take away my very right to reproduce and see my line continue. Surely, she had to be toying around with me and just joking. She couldn’t actually think that this was something I would agree to?

“You’re joking, right?”

Her grin widened even further. “What if I’m not?”

I shook my head free from her hand. “You have to be joking.” I rolled my eyes and reached for her socked foot. My mind had kind of gone into defence mode at such a ludicrous suggestion and denial seemed the best method.

However, before I could begin removing it, Cinta harshly gripped my chin so that her nails were digging in my cheeks. “Who the hell do you think you’re rolling your eyes at, wimp?” She then released me, but before I could react, she’d harshly slapped me across the cheek. I placed a hand on my burning skin and looked at her with shock, my mouth aghast.

Before I could even get out a word, Cinta had pushed me back onto the floor and stamped down onto my face with her socked foot. There was no care or consideration in her action, she just straight up shoved her foot right in my face and pinned me to the floor. I could feel the sweaty material planted against my skin as it completely overwhelmed all of my senses. The odour was pungent, with it being straight out of her workout sneaker, and I felt my arms going limp either side of me.

“Yeah, that’s right. Look at you, thinking you could roll your eyes at me? Now look at you, back where you belong!” She leant her weight onto the floor atop my face and ground the socked sole right into my nose. “Why do you keep doing this? Haven’t you got it into your thick skull yet? Every time I think we’re making progress, you go and act up again.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled from beneath Cinta’s sweaty foot. “It’s just what you said was so cruel.”

“Not good enough.” I felt her step up onto my tummy with her other foot, which had the effect of forcing every last breath of air out of my lungs. As a result, I gasped desperately and my prize was a mouthful of Cinta’s sweaty sock to the point that I could actually taste the pungent stink. “I’m fed up of your attitude. I thought we’d worked on this? I come home tired from my workout and I expect to be able to relax in my own home. Not put up with your constant rudeness.”

I began trembling beneath her weight. Not because I was scared but rather my body was physically struggling under her feet. She was petite, but muscularly toned, but the main problem being I was the complete opposite. There was no strength at all in my tummy and her foot was sinking straight in.

Cinta then stepped back from my face and placed her foot next to the other on my tummy. I looked up and saw that she was stood with her hands on hips, as if she was standing in line at the supermarket or something. There was a look of fury on her face, with a grimace of disdain and a rage in her eyes. Then, she rolled her eyes. Then she rolled her eyes again.

“I can roll my eyes without any consequences, see?” She lifted one foot and stomped my tummy, which made me squeal. “But you, you roll your eyes at me with that attitude and this is what happens, do you know why?”

“Because I’m a wimp!” I screeched as her feet sunk right into my tummy. I could hear the strain in my own voice as I was gasping for breath.

Thankfully, Cinta stepped off, and I rolled onto my side trying to catch my breath. However, she’d already resumed her position in the armchair, and a loud snap of her fingers was enough to tell me that I couldn’t just lay there and recover. I somehow clambered to my knees and knelt next to the footrest.

“As I was saying, Amy,” she said, though this time there was no grin or smirk. “You won’t be having a baby, ever, because I say you can’t.”

Even though she’d just brutally trampled me, I still couldn’t fully comprehend or accept what she was saying. “But…why not? That’s not fair,” I said.

“Because you’re mine and your priority is doing what I say. I thought I made that clear? Haven’t you been paying attention every time you’ve had my foot shoved down your throat?”

“But a baby, really, Cinta?”

“Yes, really. You’re MY wimp, Amy. Get that into your head. You don’t get to have a boyfriend. You don’t get to have a husband and you definitely don’t get to have a baby!”

“So, what’s the point in anything?” I could feel a tear collecting in the corner of my eye.

Cinta raised an eyebrow. “Really, Amy?”

I looked at her with trembling lips. I felt like I was on the verge of gushing.

“Serving the stronger woman, of course. I’m going to be having a husband and a baby one day, even if you’re not. When I do, it’s gonna be your job to make sure that is easy as possible for me.”

“You can’t be serious,” I asked. “You’re planning to keep me as a slave or something when you start a family?”

“You know what, Amy?” She leant forward and roughly grabbed me by the hair. I tried to pull away but I was still recovering from being stood all over. Before I even realised what was happening, she’d yanked me forward and jammed her socked toes straight into my mouth. “Just shut up and eat my foot.” She violently jolted my head around while her socked foot was stuffed into my mouth. It was awful, way more than usual, because the material completely dried my mouth out. Once she was satisfied and pulled her sock free, I was in desperate need for water.

“Ugh, water, please,” I said. “So, dry, please.”

Cinta began purposely swishing saliva around in her mouth, and somehow even managed to smirk while her cheeks were puffed out in the process. She crooked a finger at me and beckoned me close.

And I was so parched and in need of some kind of reprieve, I knelt there and let her spit right in mouth. To add to it, she ordered me to swill it around like she’d been doing herself seconds earlier.

Then, she simply said, “Now rub my feet. They’re aching.” As if nothing had even happened. As if she hadn’t just announced to me that I was never going to have children or that she’d just spat in my mouth.

And I didn’t fight back because I’m a complete wimp that literally let’s Cinta walk all over me. While I was digging my thumbs into the sole of her socked foot, she lounged back into the couch and sighed in satisfaction.

“So, who’s not having a baby?” she asked me through narrowed eyes.

“Me,” I mumbled, while focusing my thumbs into her soles.

Those menacing Asian eyes of hers fell closed and for a moment I breathed a sigh of relief. If I was completely lucky, she’d fall asleep which had happened on a few occasions during her post-workout foot rubs.

No such luck on that day, however, as when she was close to drifting off, her phone buzzed from that stupid guy she’d been dating. Therefore, while I continued to massage her feet, I had to listen to her talk and flirt with the guy in her life. It hurt, because this was the very thing she’d stopped me from doing with her brother. Yet, here I was, rubbing her feet while she flaunted her own dating life.

I continued in this in manner for the remainder of the conversation, wondering if maybe one day she would marry this guy and have a baby, something I was no longer allowed to do. Would she even have me play a role at her wedding? The thought made me shudder.

I was on my best behaviour after that day, pleasing Cinta as much as I could, because I knew something that she didn’t. At the end of the week, my cousin was having an engagement party and I’d been invited to attend. I hadn’t seen this part of my family in a while and it was going to be an extravagant event where we all got together. I really wanted to attend, and it was probably the most exciting intervention in my life in months.

Of course, things weren’t as simple as just going anymore. In the past, I’d have already responded with my acceptance, however, Cinta complicated matters. I knew she simply wouldn’t put up with me disappearing for an evening. Sure, she couldn’t stop or find me if I just up and did it, but I’d surely suffer for it later. My only option was to gain Cinta’s permission, but there was no guarantee that would actually occur. So, I’d been planning to ask her all week, but had constantly chickened out when the moment came close. As a result, the party was the next evening and I still hadn’t mentioned it to her.

Finally, the moment had arrived, and I couldn’t leave it any longer. “Cinta, may I ask something?”

“Sure, wimp, what is it?” She didn’t even bother to look away from the music videos or whatever she was watching on the television.

“Well, it’s just that, I, ummm…” My confidence dissipated as her narrow eyes turned and took in my squirming form.

“Spit it out, wimp,” she said. “You’re disturbing me.”

“Well, it’s just my cousin’s engagement party tomorrow…”

Cinta stared back at me blankly. “…and?”

“I was wondering if it was okay for me to attend?”

“You’re asking my permission?” There was a look of surprise on her face. “I like that.”

“Yes,” I said, while looking towards the floor. “I thought that I needed it.”

“Well, you’re right. You do.”

I looked up hopefully. “Does that mean I have it?”

Cinta chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Amy. I didn’t say that.”

“Oh.” My face took on a sorrowful frown.

“Do you really want to go?” she said the words with a smirk, her enjoyment clear.

I perked up. “Actually, yes, it’s kind of a big deal. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Rubbing my feet is also a big deal, right?”

“Of course! I’ll still do that, before and after the party.”

“You think that’s good enough?” Her tone was nonchalant and snotty. “I’ll be needing your hands and mouth after my workout tomorrow, and now you’re asking not to be here. What am I supposed to do?”

I had a sudden idea. “Maybe I could pay for you to get a spa pedicure straight after your workout to make up for it?”

Cinta raised an eyebrow. “Will the girl at the salon lick the sweat from between my toes?”

I blushed. “Umm…I…I doubt it.” I imagined one of the girls there doing that very thing and I cringed from second-hand embarrassment. That was hilarious in itself considering I performed that very act on a daily basis.

“Doesn’t really make up for it then, does it?” She shrugged and returned her attention fully to the television.

“It’ll be nice though,” I said pleadingly. “And it’s only one occasion. I promise it’ll go back to normal from the next day.”

Cinta dismissively shushed me with a wave of her hand. “Why should it sway from normal at all? It’s a party for you, not me.”

“Please, Cinta, this is really important to me,” I said, while she relaxed on the sofa with her feet crossed on the armrest. She was wearing her usual pair of sweat-soaked slouch socks. This pair were white, though the soles were darkened from the constant use in gym sneakers. They were incredibly stinky, and I should know, I’d spent the last half hour massaging them once she’d come home from the gym and planning how I was going to broach the subject of the party over and over in my head.

I thought I had done a good enough job with her foot rub, after hearing a number of sighs and moans. So, when she placed a foot on my face and pushed me away; I’d thought she was done with me. She relaxed on the couch and tapped away on her phone while watching the television. That was odd, as usually Cinta delighted in torturing me with her feet after a workout.

“Why is that my problem?” She asked without looking away from her phone.

“It’s not. It’s not a problem for you at all. I can go and you won’t even notice.”

She momentarily glanced from her phone. “So, what if I still don’t want you to go?” She retuned to her phone for a second, finished whatever she was doing, then swung her legs around so she was sat up straight. “What if I want you to stay home, sat in the corner with your nose to the wall? What are you gonna do about it?”

“Ummm.” I broke eye contact from her and looked towards the wall. What would be the point in her doing that to me? I wasn’t about to ask her that though. “Nothing.”

Cinta cackled at my answer, then I heard her fingers snap, which jolted me to attention. “Look at me,” she said. “Don’t you dare turn away from your master when I’m talking to you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am your master, right? You accept that?”

“Yes, Cinta.”

“Then say it, wimp.”

“You’re my master, Cinta.”

She sat back into the cushions and crossed her socked feet up onto my shoulder. “That’s right, I am.” Her eyes shot off to the side. “I should probably get you collared or something. Let people know who has claimed you.”

I cringed at the thought. I couldn’t handle that extra level of humiliation, especially if I had someone randomly turn up at the house. I was on edge enough as it was, thinking my parents would turn up while I was under Cinta’s feet. At least I’d have the chance to scramble from beneath them before opening the door. If I had a collar on at all times though…

“But,” Cinta said, while dipping her head to one side. “I’ve never really been into any of that weird bondage stuff. Not like I need it, is it?” She looked at me intently and I returned my eyes to the floor.

“No, Cinta.”

She adjusted her feet on my shoulder so that the sweaty sole of one sock was pressed against my cheek. Every breath I took reeked of her stinky gym sneakers. “So, tell me, how bad do you want to go?”

“Very badly, Cinta.”

“What would you do to be allowed to go?”

“Anything,” I said with all honesty. “I’d probably do anything.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me curiously. “Really? You’d do anything to be allowed to go to your silly little party?”

“I guess.”

She smirked. “Would you drink my piss?”

I felt my face immediately flush red and my mouth drop open. She couldn’t be serious, surely? “You can’t mean, no…”

Cinta’s eyes widened. “Oh, I definitely mean it after seeing the horror on your face. Drink a glass of my pee, Amy, and I’ll allow you to go.”

My stomach flipped at the thought of having to drink something so disgusting. The spit had been bad enough, but there was no way in hell I’d be drinking Cinta’s pee. I was a wimp, I’d accepted that, but I wasn’t about to sink to the level of being a piss drinker. Toe sucker? Sure. Toe-jam eater? Sure. Someone who drinks piss? No way in hell.

“I can’t do that,” I said, and I somehow managed to look her in the eye.

Cinta merely shrugged. “Then I guess you can’t go to your party.”

“But…”

She lifted a finger to her lips, indicating I was to remain quiet. “Anyway, I have a date tomorrow, so I was never going to let you go. I’ll need you waiting outside for me until it’s over so you can bring me home.”

“So, you were never going to make me drink your piss?”

She smiled. “I mean, if you were willing to do it, I would have totally let you. Why, you having second thoughts? Is your mouth getting all thirsty thinking about it?”

“No,” I said. “Not at all.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe I’d even let you drink it straight from the tap.”

I glanced between Cinta’s legs at the sweaty patch of her leggings. I’d never actually seen her completely naked. I didn’t even know if she was shaved or hairy down there, but the thought of being near her pussy made me nervous for some reason.

“Oh my God,” Cinta said from above me. “You’re totally thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“What?” I shook my head and looked up from between her legs. “No, I’m not.”

“You were just staring at my pussy like a lust-filled slut.” She licked her lips. “Are actually a lesbian?”

“No, I wasn’t, and no, I’m definitely not!”

“Wow.” She spread her legs languidly. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Amy?”  She dragged a finger along the seam of her leggings between her legs. “You want to get in here, huh? Is that why it was so easy to split you up from my brother?”

I watched her finger trace its way up what I imagined was the length of her pussy beneath her leggings. For some reason; I was fascinated. Ever since Jeff had left, my sexual contact had been at a zero. The closest I got to real intimacy was sliding my tongue between Cinta’s toes, which had been becoming more bearable. Now here I was, watching her taunt me with her pussy and actually thinking about what it was like.

“Maybe after my date tomorrow, I’ll let you kiss it.”

My eyes shot up to meet hers. Would she actually consider something like that happening? Cinta loved tormenting and bullying me, but I never got the impression that she was interested in anything sexually between us.

“Anyway,” she said, while wiggling her toes inside those damp, sweat-soaked socks. “I have some tired feet here that need the attention of your mouth.”

Even after all this time, the casual way she spoke of using my mouth to satisfy her feet made me blush.

As I peeled her socks off, she said, “Too bad, Amy. You’re desperate for my pussy and all you’re allowed to taste is my feet.”

“I’m not desperate for your pussy,” I pleaded, as I darted my tongue between her toes.

“Keep telling yourself that. I bet you touch yourself every night thinking about it.”

In all honesty, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until Cinta had brought it up. “I like men, not women.”

Cinta smirked and gripped my tongue between her toes. “Oh, really? You like men so much that right now you’re sucking on another girl’s toes.”

I tugged my tongue free. “Because you make me do this.”

Cinta forced her big toe into my mouth and I immediately began sucking it, paying particular attention to dislodge any dirt from beneath her toenail with my teeth and the tip of my tongue.

“Funny, because right now it looks like you’re really dedicated to getting my toe nice and clean for me.”

I popped my lips free from her toe. “Because it’s what you want.” I slurped back down onto her toe and bobbed up and down, coating it in saliva and sucking all of the sweaty grime from it. It was the truth, doing Cinta’s bidding was all that mattered. I’d sucked and licked her feet clean so often that it didn’t faze me anymore.

“You really suck, you know that, right?” Cinta then burst out into laughter as she realised what she’d said. “You suck my toes but you also just suck in general. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Cinta, whatever you say,” I mumbled around her toe.

“What’s that like, Amy? Sucking so much that you’re sucking my toe instead of my brother’s dick. Did I tell you he has a new girlfriend?”

My lips ceased moving halfway up her big toe and I pulled them free with a plop. “Jeff…Jeff has a new girlfriend? Already?” It had been only a few weeks since I’d last seen him. I couldn’t believe that he’d already moved on from me after everything we had together. I’d thought he was the one, yet, mere weeks after our parting Jeff had found someone else. That made my heart sink more than anything else that had happened recently.

Cinta’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you to stop sucking, wimp?”

I immediately looked away and returned my mouth to her big toe, slurping up and down its length, paying particular attention to curl my tongue around its soft underside.

“That’s it, good little loser,” she said with a pleased grin. “You suck up all that workout sweat and I’ll tell you all about my brother. You know, the guy I decided you weren’t allowed to date anymore because you’re not good enough for him?” I felt her other foot come to rest on the top of my head, which jolted my lips down on her toe and kept them against its base. “I decided that, just because I can, and I always get what I want, don’t I, wimp?”

I tried to say, yes, Cinta, but with her toe completely filling up my mouth, all that came out was a mumble.

“Anyway, I set him up with one of my clients at the gym. A lovely girl, gorgeous figure, and so sweet. He’s certainly upgraded from his days of slumming it with you.”

Her words were like a knife being stabbed through my chest, but I kept working on her toe all the same. I’d accepted Cinta’s mastery over me, and when she felt the need to taunt me over it, it was my place to suffer her arrogance.

“You should see her. A slender figure and beautiful blonde hair. She has huge boobs too. She’s basically everything you’re not.” She lifted her foot and dropped her heel so that it thumped against my skull. “Of course, she’s in such good shape thanks to me, because I’m so good at personal training, isn’t that right, wimp?”
 I nodded against her foot, knowing that’s what she expected.

“Wait.” She lifted her phone to her ear while I could hear the sound of it dialling. “Hey bro, no, nothings wrong. Just wondering how things are going with Bethany? Oh reeeeally? That’s good to hear. I’m glad. You know, as soon as I saw her I knew she would be a perfect match for you. Oh, don’t worry, it’s the least you deserve after what that slut Amy did to you. Yeah, hopefully she’s had a lot of time to think about her behaviour. Anyway, I’m glad things are working out now. You deserve it.”

I continued to slobber on Cinta’s toe while I listened intently to her talking to Jeff. Of course, she was lying through her teeth as usual, making out that I’d cheated on Jeff when that hadn’t happened at all. I was the innocent party in all of this, but Cinta had painted me as the villain and Jeff was going along with her skewed version of events. That disappointed me somewhat; I’d thought he was better than that and trusted me. Perhaps I was better off without him after all. It didn’t matter anyway, because I wasn’t part of the conversation. My mouth was busy on his sister’s toes while they spoke.

“Oh, that’s a great idea. I’ve been on a few dates with a new guy lately. Yes, he’s great, just my type. Maybe we could arrange a double date or something?”

If that happened, there was no way in hell I was driving Cinta to a date with Jeff and his new girl. That would absolutely kill me, especially if Cinta made me sit in the car during it.

“I’m actually going out with him tomorrow; shall we sort something out? Just that Mexican place with the sombrero above the door, you know it? Sure, how about at seven? I could meet you there with Kurt? Brilliant, it’s a date then!” With that, Cinta hung up the phone and looked at me lazily while I was still trapped with her big toe stuck in my mouth. “You hear all that?”

I nodded my head.

“So, you know what that means, right?”

I closed my eyes in acceptance.

“That’s right, you’re needed tomorrow. So, I guess you won’t be going to your birthday thing or whatever it was.” She moved her foot from the top of my head and allowed me to pull my mouth from her toe and gasp for breath.

“Please,” I said between breaths. “Please don’t make me sit outside while Jeff is with another girl.” I kissed the sole of her foot in hope that she would have mercy on me. “Please, Cinta, please just let me go to the engagement party. I’ll even pay for your date if you just let me sit this one out.”

Cinta lifted a finger to her mouth and nibbled on the nail. She eyed me curiously while she sat there relaxed. All the while, I placed kiss upon kiss onto her wrinkled sole, hoping that somewhere inside her I’d ignite the smallest amount of pity. “You want to pay for my dates?” she finally asked. “You can do that, I suppose. You may as well since you’re going on none of your own.”

“Sure,” I said, with a final kiss on her foot. “I’ll happily pay. Does that mean I can go to my cousin’s engagement?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’ll still need you to drive me there and home.”

I sighed with frustration. “Cinta, I’ll pay for a cab for you as part of the date.”

“Eww, I’m not going in some cab. You’ll be my driver, as always.”
 “But what about the party?”

“I thought I already made it clear that you’re needed. There’s no time for your party.”

“But—”

“But, shut the hell up and do your job. There’s still gunk between my toes and your wimp ass should be licking it out.”

With that I was insulted into silence, and I dutifully tongued the crud between Cinta’s toes until I loosened and swallowed it.

The next evening, I found myself sat in the car driving Cinta to her double-date with Jeff. I’d fought and pled some more, but she was having none of it. There was literally nothing I could do or say to change her mind. She’d even taken some of my money to cover the date since I’d offered it the previous day. I pulled up outside the Mexican place she’d mentioned, and Cinta shot me a ravishing smile.

“Have fun on your date with no one,” she said. “You better be waiting here when we’re done.”

I just looked at her sheepishly.

“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll let you slobber all over my feet when I’m done later. I can tell you all about how it went while you make out with my toes.”

She left the car before I even had a chance to respond.

About ten minutes later, Cinta was already inside with her date, when I saw Jeff walking hand in hand with a gorgeous blonde girl, a girl who surpassed me in every single way. She was walking along beside him in a tight, red dress and high heels; clothes I wasn’t capable of wearing in public. She appeared beautiful and confident, a perfect match for a catch such as Jeff.

I felt nauseous and sick to the stomach and ducked behind the wheel so he wouldn’t see me. The car suddenly felt extremely stuffy, the air hot and humid, making it difficult to breathe.

I wanted to get out and plead with him to take me back, but his date was so much better than me that I knew it would be a waste of time. So, I cowered out of sight instead. Also, there was some small part of me that was worried he actually knew what had been going on, or that he would somehow detect it. That he’d know I was nothing but his sister’s foot sucker.

I didn’t even think of the consequences as I put the pedal to the floor and sped away to my cousin’s engagement party. I just couldn’t face sitting there while I knew Jeff was inside enjoying himself with another woman.

My family was so unbelievably happy to see me when I arrived, and the next few hours were spent in their company. I enjoyed conversation and tasty food in a way I hadn’t done in weeks. For brief moments I completely forgot what it was like living back home with Cinta. I felt free and completely at ease. I drank soda instead of foot sweat, I ate pizza instead of toe-jam. It was almost as if I was away on vacation, and for a moment, I didn’t want to go back.

However, between these moments of liberation, my body tingled from an underlying feeling of dread. I knew this party couldn’t last forever, and eventually I would have to return home and face the consequences. Those would likely be worse than anything I’d ever experienced before. Not only had I defied Cinta, but I’d left her hanging too. She was going to be furious, I knew that, and I was surely in for it.

As expected, around ten, I received a text from Cinta asking where I was parked. I was too afraid to tell her the truth that I was nowhere near, so I simply ignored the message. Another followed a minute or so later, and then came a third; the tone becoming less patient with each one. Next, my phone rang, which I ignored again. Burying my head in the sand seemed a better option than answering and facing up to my actions. When she rang a second time; I turned the phone off and pretended like everything was okay.

When my cousin offered me some wine, I thought, why the hell not? I sank glass after glass and ended up spending the night as I was too drunk to drive home. I awoke the next morning hungover and in fear. Yet, somehow, I sucked up enough courage to return home.

Thankfully, Cinta was out, most likely at work with one of her clients. This bought me a bit more time, which I spent curled up on the couch and sipping a glass of water. I watched the inevitable countdown of the clock as minutes passed, waiting for the time when I knew Cinta would return home. When that moment came, the earthquake that I’d expected hadn’t occurred. Cinta, glanced at me, then went upstairs to her room. She didn’t say a word.

After a few moments, I heard the shower going, then another ten minutes passed before Cinta returned downstairs in her bathrobe. I tried to speak a number of times, but couldn’t find the words. She went into the kitchen and left with an empty glass. I noticed her feet were freshly clean and there was no sweat or toe-jam for me to get busy with. For some reason, which I couldn’t explain, this left me feeling disappointed. Did Cinta not have use for me anymore? I should have been excited at such a thought, but it made me feel worthless. I wasn’t worthy of Jeff as a boyfriend, and now I wasn’t worthy of being his sister’s foot loser either.

Suddenly, Cinta came marching back downstairs, with a glass of white wine, which I thought odd since I didn’t realise she kept any in her room. She placed the glass on the coffee table, then sat in the armchair opposite. Next, she crossed her feet up next to the glass. There was a relaxed, yet determined glare in her eyes.

“Look, Cinta, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself. “I’m sorry—”

“Why are you sorry?” she asked without any change in her expression.

“For abandoning you and leaving you hanging.”

“So, you admit that’s what you did?”

“Yes,” I said, completely full of shame, which was odd, because why was I feeling ashamed for spending time with my family?

“It’s fine,” Cinta said, then she looked at her fingernails. “I’m not bothered.”

“Really?” I asked, taken aback. “You’re not bothered?” There had been an intense anxiety coursing through my veins which suddenly felt at ease. Was I actually going to be let off the hook?

“Why would I be bothered? You think I’m as much of a loser as you that I can’t function without your pathetic ass around? You disobeyed me, and I adapted and dealt with it.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say, she was being so reasonable and pragmatic that I was actually impressed by her maturity.

“You acted out, again, and now you’ll apologise.” She glanced towards her feet.

I immediately dropped from the couch to my knees and shuffled towards her. I placed a soft kiss upon the sole of each foot, then said, “I am so sorry, Cinta. I’m sorry for letting you down and leaving you hanging.” I was relieved that I was going to be let off with a simple apology. I was about to head back to the couch when Cinta snapped her fingers.

“You’re not done yet,” she said. “Did you think I was nodding at my feet?”

“Umm, well, yes?”

“I was nodding at the glass. That’s your apology.”

I glanced at the wine glass. She wanted me to drink wine as an apology to her? What the hell kind of apology was that? Did she consider it some sort of punishment? Then I felt the groans in my stomach and the ache in my head. Of course, it was a punishment. I was hungover and Cinta could probably tell that. What was a better punishment than forcing me to drink more alcohol when I was suffering so much?

I didn’t want to drink it, but if that was what it took to receive forgiveness, that’s what I’d do. I picked up the glass and took an instinctive whiff. Immediately, I yanked the glass away and almost puked right there on my knees. There was no wine in the glass; the scent was bitter and stinging. Suddenly, things made sense. Cinta had no secret wine stash hidden away in her bedroom, she’d taken the glass to the bathroom, and as she’d said before, filled it from the tap.

I looked up at her in shock. “You can’t…this isn’t…please, you can’t mean for me to do this?”

But Cinta merely smirked back in response. “You thought a simple apology was going to be enough for the way you behaved yesterday?”

“I mean, no, but not something like this?”

“Drink it,” she said with a glare. “Drink my wine that I was so generous to pour for you.”

I looked into the glass again, at the yellow liquid. It seemed almost thicker now that I knew what it really was. The smell made me queasy and I was on the brink of vomiting.

“Please, Cinta, no…”

“Just drink it already. You need to know what will happen when you disobey me.”

“I’ll do anything else, please, but not this.” I remained there on my knees and clasped my hands into a prayer. “Please, Cinta, not this.”

Cinta raised an eyebrow. “Fine, put the glass down.”

I did as instructed, then looked back at her wondering what I was going to have to do instead. Anything had to be better than drinking that vile liquid. However, the fact she had so readily accepted a change in punishment made me worry.

“Lay on your back,” she said, “and poke your tongue out.”

I froze for a moment, then realised this was a position I’d been in a number of times before. It usually ended with Cinta wiping her soles all over my tongue until she was satisfied. Considering she’d just showered and washed her feet clean too, this was almost like a dessert in comparison to the alternative of swigging down that glass of urine. I eased myself down onto my back and poked my tongue out.

“Close your eyes,” she said, which I did.

I could then hear movement as Cinta got up from the armchair and I could hear some shuffling and fidgeting about. The next thing, I felt something press against my tongue for a moment, then it was gone. Then it was there again, then gone. The taste was bitter and it was definitely her skin, but it felt tight, like the skin between her toes. I wondered whether she’d pretended to have a shower and actually hadn’t at all.

I felt it twice more, before Cinta said, “Lick a bit.”

I moved my tongue around and felt an odd surface like wrinkled skin. Was I licking the wrinkles of her sole? The taste wasn’t like her usual foot sweat, it was a bitter and sharper flavour, still sweaty, but more intense. I was forced to withdraw my tongue into my mouth and I had to swallow down the nasty taste.

“Put your tongue back out,” she said from above, and when I did, I felt it against the tip once more. “Now, open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes and immediately almost threw up right there. Cinta was crouched above me with her shapely ass straight in my face. I could see her puckered, brown asshole up above me, the very thing I’d been pressing my tongue against. She lowered herself and it came closer until she’d planted it straight on my nose. She wriggled about up above until my nose had firmly nestled between her ass cheeks and was forced up into her asshole.

“That’s it, my little brown noser,” she giggled from above. “How does that feel? Having your nose shoved up my ass.” The giggles were replaced with an animated cackle.

“Get off,” I said, and I lifted my hands to grasp at her buttocks. However, she slapped my hands away, and dropped so she was kneeling on the floor, rather than crouching. As a result, I was trapped beneath her, her ass planted on my face while I struggled and clutched at her thighs in desperation. I noticed the scent of her pussy too, which had come to rest on my mouth and chin. As a result, I no longer tried to voice my opposition to what she was doing. There was too great a risk of accidentally licking her pussy and Cinta assuming I had done it on purpose.

She remained sat upon my face. She didn’t writhe or wriggle, and I was stuck beneath her with my nose forced up her butthole. It didn’t stink or anything, as she had clearly just showered, however, it was humiliating nonetheless. I literally had my nose up a younger girl’s asshole. Oh, how far I had descended in recent days.

We stayed that way for a number of minutes. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want her sat on my face, but also, I didn’t want to antagonise her further in case she decided to do something even worse. I thought about saying something, even mumbling with my mouth close, but I was in fear that I’d accidentally lick her pussy and put an idea in her head that I really didn’t want there.

Finally, I felt her weight lift and she shuffled so that she was no longer leaning over me. My nose was free and I took in a breath of fresh air. Before I could move however, Cinta had turned and mounted my face again, hovering her butt a couple of inches above my mouth. “Put out your tongue again,” she said.

“Not again, please,” I said, while staring up at her brown hole. “Please, don’t make me do that again.”

She slapped my shoulder, then wiggled her ass up above my face. “Lick it. Lick my ass. This is your way of making up for what you did yesterday.”

“Never,” I said, but then I suddenly screeched in pain as I felt her nails digging into my nipples. I tried to writhe away, but she had me locked in place beneath her with no chance of escape. So, I relented, and pushed my tongue against her butthole.

“That’s it,” she said, while grinding her butt cheeks down and completely flattening my face. “Get your tongue right up there.”

As Cinta laughed up above me, I did the unthinkable and jammed my tongue straight up her asshole.

“Oh yes, that’s it, make out with my asshole like you’d make out with my brother.”

And with that, I sucked my lips to her ring and probed her asshole as if I was tonguing her brother’s mouth. As Cinta settled in place and moaned in response to my invading tongue, I accepted I’d sank to a new depth to which there was no returning from.