“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” I felt the grin painted across my stupid face. Joanna rested her chin on her rubbery fist, watching me stare at her in what can only be described as leather straps across her chest, barely covering her boobs, a thong, fish nets and tall, black boots. A man tied to a chair, nude. Standing between his legs was Joanna, with one foot planted on his groin. The man wore a pained look, like her boot crushed something vital. Those deep blue eyes faced the camera, with an expression like butter wouldn’t melt.
“I can’t believe this is you.”
“It is me. More attractive.”
“You still are.”
The ground didn't swallow me like I had hoped. I thought, if I carry on talking, maybe she won’t remember.
“Who is that man?”
Joanna bit her lip, and leaned in again.
“He is another model. A local fetish club wanted promo material for a night they were hosting. A CBT night. He let me do that to him.”
“Let you do what?”
Joanna stood up from her seat and sat next to me. Her gloved arm touched mine, and my boner grew more. I didn’t know that was even possible. She crossed her legs and the toe of her boot rested on my ankle. The same foot crushing the poor man’s balls in the photo.
“He let me stomp on his nuts. His reaction is real.”
My body felt rigid. I wanted to turn and look into her eyes, but I already felt them on me, burning into my skull.
“What’s CBT?”
Joanna squeezed my knee. I flinched, and she said, “I will pour you some more wine.”
When she sat back down, I felt her thigh slide in line with my own. Both glasses were full to the brim.
“Cock and ball torture.”
She crossed her legs again. Her foot slid down my calf and stayed there, occasionally bobbing up and down. I placed my hand on my lap, covering up any tent poking through.
“He liked having his cock and balls tortured. They wanted it photographed. To get a real reaction, he said to just go for it. So, I did. Multiple times.”
I squeezed my legs together in an attempt to stop any pre cum. Her boot trailed a little further up my calf, just below the knee.
I managed to mumble, “That’s crazy.”
“Oh, the best creative people are. I spent the night with him at the event. He showed me around. I watched him get his balls kicked by multiple women. I watched him worship their feet. I even joined in.”
The fingers of her gloved hand trailed circles around the photograph, stroking over the man’s crotch. Joanna had me cornered. Her body, close to mine, her boot on my leg, her breath on my neck.
“You did?”
“It’s exhilarating, kicking someone's nuts and then having them suck your toes. No feeling like it. I felt so powerful, and these men loved it. Being a foot model, I had some of the best times of my life.”
Joanna shifted her chair out and looked down at my crotch. Her hand slapped the table and, excitedly, she said, “you’re wearing a belt!”
“What?”
“Push your chair out. I want to show you something. A party trick I learned. I wasn’t just having my feet photographed. I also picked up the odd skill here and there.”
I began to enjoy Joanna’s unpredictable nature. Maybe the alcohol helped. Joanna parked her chair in front of me, and, one by one, pulled off her boots. If I had died right then, I would have been happy. Luckily, I didn’t. She stretched out her toes. The soles of her feet looked hot, pink and moist from the heat.
“Hands behind your back.
“What are you going to do?” I tried not to look too excited, but I couldn’t hide my crotch any longer, and my face already turned a deep crimson.
“Don’t panic. I have quite dexterous toes. Hands behind your back.”
My fingers interlocked behind my back. Joanna carefully, and expertly, manoeuvred my belt, undoing it completely with her toes. I watched intently. Her toes had swollen from the heat in her boots. Veins protruded on the tops of her feet. They looked strong. I smelled the heat emanating from them as her toes wiggled in and out between the clasp and the material of my belt. The boot smell coming from her feet, and the scent of vinegar, left no room for me to hide my erection. My belt fell open on my lap. Then, with a little pressure from her toes, Joanna opened the top button of my shorts.
“Ta - da!”
My hands shot straight to my crotch.
“I think you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
Enjoy wouldn’t be the word I would use. The blushing in my cheeks was a stark give away. I couldn’t speak. I tucked my chair back under the table. The long legs of my shorts kept my boner from poking out of my leg, at least.
A PING sounded. My phone. Jai messaged to say he could no longer do tonight. His girlfriend had made surprise plans.
Joanna occupied herself by pouring us both yet more wine.
“Something wrong?”
“Jai has cancelled.
“And?”
“I shouldn’t keep you anymore.”
“Might as well finish the wine before you go,” she said, sweeping back into the chair next to me. “Did you like my party trick? I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”
“Oh no, not at all. You have incredible feet. Skilled feet.”
Joanna leaned into me and brushed the page over to reveal the next photo.
“What do you think of this one?” she asked, low and sultry.
Not even the porn I had watched could match this image.