I was kind of a goof off in my younger years of school. Always making a
scene and everything. But about halfway into highschool, I was disciplined
in a peculiar way that i would have never expected.
My new English teacher that I had my sophomore year, was about 30. She was
pretty, but really mean. I had heard about her in the past, when upper
classmen said what a bombshell "Mrs. Porter" was. I had never seen her
before, but when I did, I didn't take her seriously. In fact, I joked around
and made a bunch of noise in the middle area, commenting on almost
everything she said. It didn't take long before she was doing minor things,
like sending me out of the room. But one day, she said "thats it, I have had
enough of you. Today, come here after school, or I will fail you." Detention, I laughed it off, but only at first. When I first came in, she
had me clean the desks. And so I started to, and time passed by. She walked
over to the door in her bare feet, and closed it and locked it. I happened
to have noticed that she slipped off her shoes, and pulled off her socks at
her desk, but I didn't think much of it, except that she had some pretty
feet. Her feet, were beautful looking from the top, with with her toenails
painted an elegant red.
"Christina, come here for a second" she said demandingly. I came up to
her.
"Do you want to pass this class?" she asked me in a rather condescending
manner.
"of course" I said back.
"well I am not going to pass you. It is already too late for you to pass
this semester. Unless you would like to accept a new punishment, and then I
could still pass you. But I need you to agree to this punishment."
"what is it?" I asked.
"Do you agree, yes or no?"
"yeah, sure, I agree. But what is it?"
"get down on your knees"
"I got on my knees"
"bend down foward, so that your noise touches in between my feet". She
told me.
"what?" I asked.
"nobody will beleive a clown like you if you report that I made you smell
my feet. But if you don't do as I say, I will fail you, and get you expelled
for sexual harrasment. Bend over and connect your nose with between my feet.
And keep your mouth closed."
I was shocked, and so I did it, I bent down, and breathed out my noise,
since my mouth was short, inhaling the scent of her sweaty feet.
"how do they smell?" she asked me.
"pretty go-"she pressed her foot against my lips, interrupting me and said
"from now on, for the rest of semester, every day after school you will
pamper my sweaty feet while I organize papers. But it won't be like this,
for this is not degrading enough. You deserve harsher. Get on your back."
I got on my back, and she placed her feed over my face, pressing down
fairly hard with one foot, and with the big toe of the other, playing with
my lip.
"perfect."
I noticed before hand that the bottoms of her feet were really dirty, and
when I could feel that her feet were sweaty and warm. I couldn't help but
inhale the odor of her feet which was somewhat strong. She kept taunting me,
asking "well are you going to be a little smart ass in my classroom ever
again? Of course you aren't, becuse I now have shown my power over you, and
you are worthless. "Finally, she told me to get up and clean her feet off
with my tongue. I wondered if i would ever get away. And finally, when her
feet were completely clean, she let me go, and I came home just in time for
dinner.
When I ate, I could still smell her feet on my face. When I got home, my
parents were angry and didn't give me a chance to wash up, so I ate with the
taste of her feet on my lips.
In the classroom she taunted me too, and when I came up to her to ask her
about an assignment, she gave me a strange smile.
And that afternoon, she actualy stood on my face, taunting me more, asking
if I was going to smart off in her class again. When she sat, she played
with her feet on my chest, and on my face. Anyway, somethign I forgot to
mention is that I am not a guy, but a girl which made for even less
suspicion when I was in the classroom for so long with her.
I found that even the first time that in a strange way I kind of liked the feeling. Pretty soon, though it was still embarassing, I found that I had a fetish for domination, and feet. And if I paint a friend's toenails for her, I get a kind of strange feeling remembering my teacher or something. Same goes for if I get a pedicure. But I don't regret it.