Hello you naughty girls and boys!
Tom is still in his first day of class. It's a Monday and it surely feels like one. He has spent more time with Ms. Rodriguez's feet and she's making more demands and raising expectations. Now Tom is about to get another round of foot service and he'll find it can still get worse.
All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older.
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Tom had been taking notes in his notebook and had even done some of the exercises at the end of the chapter. While some of it looked or sounded vaguely familiar, he wasn't speeding through even the early chapters. He was really ready for a break. And that's when he heard Ms. Rodriguez approaching.
Hearing her was one thing, seeing her was another. She came around the corner in pink and grey workout clothes and a white sweat towel draped over her neck. In her hand she was finishing off a bottle of water. And at that moment he could have used a drink himself.
She was wearing some kind of spandex or stretch pants which hugged her legs, and surely must be clinging to her ass. Her navel was exposed along with the rest of her abdomen, and the pink top with its deep cleavage hung from her shoulders supporting her breasts. What's more, the sweat was creating a transparency and he was quite sure he could make out her nipples.
The top hadn't been covering much of her chest to begin with, but with the see-through quality now evident, it was like they were on display. He had never seen her like this before and he couldn't help but stare. He could only hope those tits would somehow escape that top, much the way his own dick was now trying to get out of his pants.
"Okay Tom, you can take a break from your studies. It's time for your first footstool training. Follow me."
He tried to be attentive and not look too obvious, but he knew she had caught him staring at her chest. But as she walked past and he began to follow her, he had something else to look at. He was right. Those pants were in fact clinging to her ass. In fact they seemed to hug each cheek separately and went deep into her crack.
He enjoyed the rhythmic sway and bounce of her ass as he followed her, but it was all to brief as she came to a stop. This time she stood at another comfortable looking chair, and in front of it, there was already a rectangular footstool covered in black leather or vinyl. She bent down and spun it ninety degrees so its length extended away from the chair.
Her bending over to move the stool put her ass on even greater display. He swore he could hear the fabric stretching. He had never thought of his Spanish teacher this way before, but it was all he could do not to reach out and grab her ass.
"Now if you'll go around to that end and get down on your knees."
She turned around to face him and he knew he was caught again, this time for staring at her ass. His head was like a bobble headed toy for a moment. He looked up and away from her ass, and then knowing he was caught, he looked down from her eyes, where he found himself staring into her sweaty cleavage, before his head snapped up and then quickly turned to the side to avoid her gaze once again. He knew in those seconds he must have looked like an idiot.
He just hung his head and moved to the stool and got on his knees, keeping his head down, not wanting to look her in the eyes. She didn't say anything, but he could sense her disapproval. She took a step forward and stood at the other end of the stool.
"Now just lay forward on your hands and knees and let the stool support you."
He did as she instructed and found the stool fit his body better than he would have expected for a random piece of furniture. It was the length of his torso and his shoulders were even with the opposite edge. His hands were on the floor at the corners and he was looking at the floor.
Ms. Rodriguez then squatted down beside him and he felt her hand on the back of his leg. She didn't say anything and he didn't know what this was about, but soon she removed her hand and went around behind him. Moments later he felt her again with a hand, this time on his other leg.
He was tempted to ask her what she was doing when she came up to his shoulder, and he saw her reaching up under the stool. She pulled something out and within seconds she was attaching a leather cuff to his wrist.
"Hey, now wait just a minute."
"Quiet now. Footstools don't talk."
Footstools don't talk. Cute. And as she quickly cuffed his other wrist he thought 'and what footstool needs to be restrained.' He was still pondering why she had cuffed him to the stool when he felt a wide strap being pulled tight across his back. For whatever reason, she seemed to be serious about securing him to the stool. She then took few seconds to check the straps and he felt that his legs were secured to the stool as well. He could move his upper body, but not a lot.
She came up beside him once again and her face was close to his. She put a hand on his head and she petted him like a dog. He didn't find it very amusing but he said nothing.
"Well I think you're just about all set. One more thing to do and you will be ready for use."
And then she reached down to the front of the stool and suddenly the front panel was coming up. It took Tom by surprise. It was like a recliner opening except it didn't extend forward, it was just hinged at the top edge. Once it was level with the top of the stool he heard it snap into place.
Now being level with the rest of the stool, and Tom well strapped to that, he had to lift up his head. He was now looking forward at the chair. But it was more insidious than that. The top of the stool was rounded and when the panel came up a half cylinder cushion came up under his chin, stretching his neck and making it impossible to bend his head forward.
Focused on the chair in front of him, he saw Ms. Rodriguez come around and take a seat, plopping down into the chair and bringing her feet up to rest on the edge of the stool just a few inches from his face. He was now up close and personal with the pink and grey soles of her trainers, blocking most of his view.
"Now this is going to be much like before, however you obviously won't be using your hands. Show me what you learned."
As soon as she finished, time came to a standstill. She pulled one foot back just far enough so she could pry off the heel of her other shoe. As it fell away he noticed her bare foot in front of him. In frozen time his mind told him something was very wrong. Continuing in a super slow motion her bare foot retreated until the toes were at the heel of her remaining shoe, prying it off and sending it to the floor.
As the feet slid towards him, his mind was putting the pieces together. She had been wearing trainers. She was wearing trainers without socks. She had been exercising and clearly had been working up a sweat. He was facing her and her feet and not perpendicular to her. She wasn't going to rest her feet on his back as a footstool as he had assumed. She said it was going to be like before. She told him to show her what he had learned. Oh God, this was going to be...
Awful! It was just awful. The stink crashed into his face just before her feet did. Her feet came to his cheekbones and pushed his head back further, if that were possible. The odor attacked him viciously. An image flashed in his head of smelling salts being used to revive an unconscious person. The odor enveloping him now could certainly do that. Could such a strong smell also be used to knock someone out?
