Fiona

Fiona

It was already around noon when the slender woman, dressed only in a T-shirt and shorts, knocked on the door of her neighbor and best friend.

"V! Are you there? Come on, open up. Veronica! Hello!" A moment later, the door finally swung open, and Fiona stormed past her, visibly annoyed, straight into the kitchen.

"What's taking so long, and since when do you even lock the door? Do you have any coffee? Ours is out again, as usual."

While her dark-skinned friend followed her into the kitchen, grinning and shaking her head at this spontaneous invasion, the very attractive Fiona placed a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals on the table.

"Here are your shoes back, by the way. Thanks for lending them to me." Veronica grabbed two mugs from the shelf and looked at her friend expectantly. "So? How did it go? Did you jump into bed right away, or did you at least make him take you out somewhere fancy first? He seems to have enough cash, at least. What's his name again?"

"His name's Mike, and he was totally into your shoes, by the way. He naturally assumed they were mine."

Both started grinning. As the coffee began dripping through the old-fashioned machine, Veronica sat down at the table with her.

"They look amazing on you, though, and with that black dress, you were absolutely stunning. So, what happened? Don't keep me hanging like this--you know how curious I am. Are you together now, or does he just want to sleep with you? I hope you at least let him buy you a few things if you're giving him a chance."

Fiona smiled at her, slightly embarrassed. "Well, you know, I don't think he's like that? The date yesterday went differently than I expected, anyway."

Her friend gave her a puzzled look. "Different how? Is he gay, a pervert, or, worse, married? Come on, don't make it so suspenseful!"

The willowy Fiona met her gaze with her big eyes. "Well, he's not gay, and probably not married either, but he's a bit odd. After dinner at his place, we had a bottle of wine, and then he didn't want to sleep with me. Instead, he actually asked if he could thank me for the wonderful evening. I didn't think much of it until he got down on his knees and started kissing my feet."

Her equally attractive friend let out a near-hysterical shriek. "He kissed your feet? I don't believe it! And you let him? Look, sweetie, don't take this the wrong way, but if that's not perverted, then I'm the black Mother Teresa."

"Yeah, maybe, but he's really a sweet guy, and I kind of like him. Oh, V., I don't know why I always end up with the weird ones."

Veronica pulled her into a hug. "You somehow seem to attract these losers like a magnet. Must be a Gallagher thing. So, what happened next? You sent the creep packing, right?"

Fiona's pretty face twisted into a knowing grimace. "Um, not exactly. It's not that simple when someone's kissing your feet with teary eyes and pouring their heart out. He's totally into me, by the way. Seems to practically worship me--and my feet. It kind of flattered me, so when he basically begged to lick my shoes, I agreed."

Her neighbor stared at her, outraged. "You let him lick your shoes? Wait, he actually licked my shoes?" She quickly added, confused, "What's there even to lick? Those thin straps are barely worth mentioning."

Fiona's eyes widened suddenly. She poured herself some of the now-finished coffee and grinned mischievously at her friend. "He wasn't after those." Veronica's face contorted in disgust. "He didn't lick the soles, did he?" The slender beauty grinned euphorically. "Oh, he did! You should've seen it--it was a sight for the gods, the way he debased himself in front of me. He kept kissing my toes in between and even thanked me for it." Veronica threw an incredulous glance at the soles of her shoes.

"I can't believe it. Who voluntarily licks shoe soles? That guy's unhinged. Now I need a coffee too. So, what's next for you two?"

She filled her mug with the black brew and shook her head again. "Does he want to be your slave now, or are you supposed to whip him? You know Kevin and I do the mistress-slave thing sometimes, but just to get him revved up for sex, not to actually humiliate him."

Fiona shrugged. "No idea. We haven't gotten that far. He'd definitely love to keep going out with me, though. Maybe he's mostly thinking about my feet or shoes, but that doesn't bother me. I actually find it kind of exciting--as long as he shows his appreciation. The part-time gig at the supermarket just doesn't pay enough, and my siblings are eating me out of house and home."

Her friend sipped her coffee. "You really want to be the playmate for a pervert?" Fiona took a determined sip from her own mug.

"Why not? Mike's genuinely nice, super considerate, and totally harmless. It'll hardly be to my disadvantage if I do him this favor. Besides, what's he really asking for? To crawl around on the floor, lick my shoes clean, and kiss my feet. There are worse things, don't you think?"

A moment later, her friend nodded in sudden agreement. "Okay, when you put it that way, maybe you should give him a shot. A guy who actually does what you tell him sounds kind of tempting. Tell him if he ever wants to kiss a black woman's feet, he just needs to let me know."

Her slender companion playfully shoved her. "Don't you dare, Veronica. The only feet Mike's kissing anytime soon are mine. You can bet on that."

They grinned at each other. "Got it, sweetie. Just kidding. You know I love you like a sister. Why don't you wear my black boots on your next date? The pointy ones with the stiletto heels. Something tells me those, paired with your legs, would drive him wild."

Thrilled, Fiona threw her arms around her. "You're the best. I think he'd lose it too. I don't own many heels, sadly, but Mike even wants to see my old, worn-out shoes. He kept asking me yesterday to bring some to our next meetup. Can you imagine? I think he's dying to lick my beat-up old kicks. Heaven knows where I've been with those or what I've stepped in. And this ridiculously wealthy guy wants to clean them with his tongue just because I wore them. Crazy, right?"

Her friend burst out laughing. "Let's talk about what you'll wear next time instead. You'll want to look drop-dead gorgeous while he's licking the dirt off your shoes, won't you?"

Fiona happily hugged her neighbor again.

Two chaotic days later, Mike's car pulled up in front of the Gallagher house around evening, as agreed. He'd eagerly welcomed Fiona's approval for another date and immediately offered to pick her up from home. Smiling warmly, the brunette beauty strutted out of the house about fifteen minutes late and tapped on the passenger window. Mike rolled it down right away, greeting Fiona as she leaned into the car with a cheeky grin.

"Hey, Mike. Nice ride. Sorry, have you been waiting long? My family's driving me nuts. Luckily, a friend offered to check on them tonight, so we've got plenty of time."

Her big eyes locked onto him. "So? How about it? Did you miss me?"

The man, about ten years her senior, shyly and nervously confirmed, complimenting her flawless look and asking her to hop in since their reservation at the trendy spot was only good until 8 p.m. With an appreciative nod, she climbed in, and the car took off. During the twenty-minute drive, Mike stole glances at her from the corner of his eye, pretending to focus on the road. The slender beauty noticed, of course, but didn't let on, chatting away carefree instead.

About an hour later, after an incredibly delicious multi-course meal, Fiona took a satisfied sip from her wine glass. As Mike settled the astronomical bill with his credit card, she leaned in and whispered tenderly in his ear. "Thanks for the amazing food. I hope I didn't embarrass myself. Honestly, I've never been to such a fancy place."

Her date gazed into her eyes, smitten. "You're wonderful and gorgeous. A real lady." She beamed. "I've been called a lot of things, but you're the first to call me a lady. Lady Fiona. Too bad it's got nothing to do with my life--at least not yet."

Her eyes sparkled suddenly as she casually brushed his pant leg with her boot. He jolted as if electrified. His stunning companion smiled at him.

"So, what now? Are you driving me home, or do you want to thank me again for the lovely evening? You'd have to ask me to come back to your place first, though."

Nervous and wrestling with himself, he leaned across the table and whispered in her ear. "Please, Fiona, come back to my place. Please. Please, Lady Fiona. I've got a little something for you too." The sassy suburban beauty laughed. "You're adorable. Alright then. Whisk your lady away, my prince."

Relieved, Mike nodded happily. It didn't take a psychic or feminine intuition to see how much her answer meant to him. Twenty minutes later, he'd already driven his lovely companion to his house, opened her car door, and escorted her inside like a gentleman. Fiona perched gracefully on the plush leather sofa, crossing her legs. As soon as her host handed her a glass of wine, he dropped to his knees in front of her, visibly jittery. Amused by his shyness and already a little tipsy, the down-to-earth beauty took charge.

"Aren't you going to take my boots off? I'm guessing you'd love to kiss my feet again while thanking me for my charming company. My feet got a bit sweaty in these, by the way. Hope that doesn't bother you."

With trembling hands, he complied instantly, freeing her shapely feet from the leather boots and nylon socks. Moments later, he showered them with passionate kisses, thanking her even more fervently than the first time. Grinning, she shook her head. The sight was just too bizarre. This educated man was literally at her feet, adoring her--all just to be near her and serve her. The world was insane. At home, she felt more like a maid to her siblings, and here she was treated like a princess. All she had to do was let him kiss her feet. Just then, she noticed Mike kissing her soles from bottom to top. Touched, she looked down at him.

"Come on, then. Lick them. That's what you want, right? But don't you dare tickle me!" His tongue slid over her soft soles in an instant. A pleasant tingle shot through her whole body. The slender part-time cashier leaned back contentedly, sipped her wine, and let him keep licking her feet.

Half an hour later, nearly dozing off from relaxation a few times, she pulled her feet away. "Okay, that's enough for now. That was really nice, by the way. I've got no experience since you're the first to lick my feet, but I thought it was great." He looked up at her from the floor, delighted. "It makes me so happy that you enjoyed it. I enjoyed it too. Your feet are really special to me. You've probably noticed that by now."

She smirked. "Yeah, a little." They both smiled. After drying her feet with a tissue, he stayed on his knees before her, to Fiona's surprise. "Can I get you anything else? More wine, or maybe something sweet?" She waved him off, but he suddenly froze.

"Oh, sorry, I almost forgot in all the excitement. I've got something for you."

Curious and wide-eyed, Fiona watched as he returned with a perfectly wrapped box. He dropped to his knees again and handed it to her. "Here. For you. A small token of my appreciation. I hope I got your taste right."

She took it, flustered. "You didn't have to do that. I enjoy your company without gifts." But her curiosity got the better of her, and she quickly untied the fancy ribbon and peeled off the luxe wrapping paper. When she saw the logo on the box, she stared at him in disbelief. "Christian Louboutin? You're kidding! These cost a fortune!" Shaking with excitement like a schoolgirl, she opened the elegant shoebox. "Oh my God. Even in my size." Mike looked up at her, relieved. "So? Do you like them?"

Overjoyed, she kissed his cheek. "Like them? I love them! Thank you so, so much. But I can't possibly accept these. These heels probably cost more than a month's rent for our house--maybe two."

He just smiled, thrilled his surprise had landed so well. "They're just good enough for you, Fiona. Those black heels with the red soles will look incredible on you. A woman like you should only wear exclusive shoes. Want to try them on?"

Enchanted, she handed them to him. "Please put them on for me. I'm too excited." With his help, she slipped into the luxe heels and nearly squealed with delight. "These are insane. Thank you so much. They fit perfectly. I might never take them off. Oh, that reminds me--I forgot to bring the old shoes you asked me to. Damn, I feel awful about that now. You're showering me with gifts, and I've got nothing for you. Want to lick my boots or something? How can I make it up to you?"

He looked up at her with big eyes. "Well, it's a little embarrassing." The new owner of Christian Louboutin heels couldn't tear her eyes off her treasures. "You've already licked my shoe soles on all fours. What could possibly embarrass you now? Spill it."

Head lowered, he confessed some fantasies that had apparently been swirling in his mind for a while. Still loosened up from the wine, Fiona burst into roaring laughter.

"That's what you want? You're nuts!" A moment later, still grinning, she shook her head. "Okay. People might not believe it, but a Gallagher keeps her word. I'll do my best to make your wish come true. So, clothes off, and grab the collar and leash. Hurry up, or you'll regret it."

Like a man possessed, Mike bolted off, returning moments later stark naked, wearing only a dog collar, crawling on all fours with the leash in his mouth. Fiona had slipped back into her boots and poured herself more wine. Seeing him naked and kneeling before her, she couldn't hold back another laugh. Out of nowhere, she delivered several sharp slaps to his face. "Didn't I tell you to hurry? How dare you keep me waiting? Looks like you need a little lesson to learn how things work around here!"

He immediately started apologizing and begging for mercy, but Fiona, now fully into her role, kept going with amused gusto. She took a big swig from her glass, sat on the leather sofa, and pointed smugly at her lap. Her freshly minted submissive draped himself over her thighs, obediently presenting his bare backside. She eagerly spanked him for minutes with her right hand while gripping his genitals with her left. Only when her hand ached and his cheeks glowed a bright pink did she stop. Teary-eyed, he dropped to his knees and gratefully began licking her boots. She ran her fingers tenderly through his hair.

"There, there. It's all good. Did you like that? Was it what you wanted?" As he thanked her, she instinctively showed him the soles of her boots. "Oh, sorry. You probably want to lick the soles clean again, don't you?"

The slender suburban beauty leaned back, finished her wine, and watched as the man at her feet licked the street dust off the soles of boots that didn't even belong to her, lost in a trance. After another glass of wine, she pushed him away, tipsy.

"Okay, little Mike. Time to get it over with." She grabbed the leash and yanked him into the bathroom. Once there, she hiked up her skirt, pulled down her panties, and sat on the toilet. As he knelt before her with his head bowed, Fiona emptied her brimming bladder into the pristine, luxurious porcelain bowl. After wiping herself dry with toilet paper and fixing her clothes, she roughly grabbed his hair and shoved his head into the toilet she'd just filled.

She looked away in disgust. "This is so gross! How can anyone want this?"

When she heard strange noises from the bowl, she kicked him in the backside, furious. "Hey, you pig! You're not licking my piss out of there, are you? That wasn't part of the deal!" Irritated and revolted, she flushed the toilet and yanked his head out by the leash. Pale as a ghost, Mike immediately apologized, saying it wasn't like him, but he'd somehow lost control. Fiona just stared at him with her big eyes, wished him good night, and before he could get dressed or process it, she'd left his house and taken a cab home.

The next afternoon, his doorbell rang unexpectedly. Mike couldn't believe his eyes when he opened the door and saw Fiona standing there, this time in casual clothes and about four inches shorter, wearing Chucks instead of heels. Before he could apologize again, she pressed a beat-up backpack into his hands and smiled. "My old shoes, as promised. I told you I keep my word." Then she kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, but I think it's better if we don't see each other anymore. I can't keep pretending. We're from totally different worlds. I'm a Gallagher, and I've got a family to take care of. I can't play dominatrix for you on top of that, even if I enjoyed some of it."

Sad and stunned, he stared at her. She didn't allow any attempts to change her mind or apologies, but then he dropped to his knees and looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"Can I at least lick your shoes one last time as a goodbye?" She shook her head in disbelief, glanced around, and grinned at him.

"Okay. One last time. But only if you promise it's over after that and you return those crazy expensive designer heels where they came from. As gorgeous as they are, they don't fit me or my life."

He obediently lowered his head to her feet. "I promise, Lady Fiona."

Satisfied, the slender woman smiled as she presented him with the sole of her right shoe to lick. "Quickly, though, and just the soles!"

Later that evening, a dejected Fiona sat on Veronica's couch with a beer in hand. Her friend had been relentlessly prying every detail out of her for minutes.

"He really drank your piss from the toilet?" Annoyed, the slender cashier glared at her. "Yes. How many times do I have to tell you?" Her dark-skinned friend shrieked wildly again, thrilled by the scandal.

"I knew from the start that guy was a pervert. Didn't I say so? Good riddance. Who knows what else he'd have come up with? Why do you look so down, though?"

Fiona took a big gulp from her bottle. "Well, I kind of feel bad for him. He can't help his submissive streak. Plus, he practically worshipped me. I bet if I'd taken a dump in that toilet, he'd have eaten my shit too. Can you imagine?"

Her neighbor grimaced in disgust. "Ugh, that's so nasty. At least you gave his ass a proper spanking, though he probably loved that too."

They both grinned. "Of course he loved it. It was a favor I did him for the Louboutin heels."

Veronica froze suddenly. "Louboutin? He bought you shoes?" Her slender friend nodded. "Didn't I mention that? Crazy expensive luxury kicks from Italy--the kind actresses wear to galas and award shows. I tried them on but didn't keep them." Her usually chatty neighbor struggled for words.

"Wait a sec! Let me get this straight. He gives you those divine shoes, probably lays them at your feet, and you don't take them? Oh my God! Are you insane? I'd kill for shoes like that--or sell my boyfriend. Maybe just trade him in, since no one else would probably want him."

A male voice piped up from the kitchen out of nowhere. "Hey! I heard that. Love you too, Veronica."

Both women burst out laughing. Veronica grabbed Fiona's empty bottle and grinned. "So, how about it? Does the illustrious Lady Fiona want another beer? Or are plain old drinks beneath you now that you've turned down designer shoes?"

Grinning ear to ear, Fiona tossed a pillow at her. "You're right, V.! I should've kept those shoes!"

THE END