Dose Of Maya Ch 05

Please read the previous chapters for more context.

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Chapter 5: Red Hands, Red Eyes.

Maya stared into Samantha's computer screen, eyes wide and mouth open. Her face might say she was shocked to see what she had seen, but it was no shock to her. Because that's what she Commanded Joe to do, 'Download a foot fetish video now. Put it in the common folder, and watch it now.' What she expected was for Samantha to see it eventually, and both of them would confront Joe. But what she didn't expect was Samantha to open that file in front of him. And poor little Joe, like a confused initiated. He fled from the scene. If there was any doubt in Samantha's mind, that would confirm his guilt.

'This is even better,' she thought. 'Now we will confront him and make him confess to this. I will desensitize Samantha to his fetish slowly. Double Dom. Mental High-Five.'

A smile seeped out of her face, and she realized Sam was staring at her. Maya looked at her in confusion and said, "What the hell was that?"

"I know," Samantha replied. "He might've downloaded it and mistakenly put it on here." Maya just nodded her agreement to her. They both fell silent for a minute.

"And that is foot stuff," Samantha started, and she scowled, her face slowly turning into disgust, "What a creep, huh?"

"You know what, we should just confront him. Ask him directly what the hell was that. Maybe it was not him. Maybe it was someone else," Maya said.

"It clearly is him. Did you see how he flushed and ran away? It was him, I'm telling you," she said. "Wait a minute, what do you imply by that? Only us three share that folder." She wagged her finger in Maya's face, "It was not me."

"Okay. Okay. I know but..." she smiled, put her hands into the air facing Samantha, and said, "But, you know, innocent until proven guilty."

"Yeah, I say we leave it and move on."

"What?" Maya blurted out, "No, I say we ask him. I can't keep it inside. Just imagine how awkward it will be."

"No. He clearly was embarrassed by it. I know a little bit about this stuff. This is far more common than you think."

"But..." Samantha didn't let her finish the sentence.

"We live in a world full of freaks. What's one more freak in our life? At least he was never creepy with us. Take the win and move on."

"How do you know that? The movement you turn, how do you know he is not looking at your feet?"

"Why do you have to say that?" she made Italian hands and waved them up and down. "Now, whenever I put back towards him, I'll only think of him staring at my feet. Or worse, him wanking to my feet."

"We would hear that. But we should confront him."

"Doesn't matter, I'm not asking him, and neither are you. And we're done with this topic. Do you understand?" she said, and Maya nodded. Samantha turned to face her screen and said, "I have to work."

'The hell I don't,' she thought. 'I didn't make him like this so I can leave him be. If I leave him so, someone else will make use of him. I'll ask him. I'll use him. I just wanted you to join me. Now, he's all mine.'

__________

Joe stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, eyes reddened, and water running down his face. He threw water on his face to hide the tears streaming down his face. He threw some more water as someone just walked in. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. He left the bathroom to face his eventual humiliation. 'They might think I'm a creep,' he thought. "You are a creep," he said out loud. He swiftly looked around. Luckily, there was nobody in earshot to hear him.

He walked into the cabin, and Sam's and Maya's heads whipped toward him. They both smiled, but Maya's smile had something mischievous in it. He flushed and gulped. He expected a tirade of questions, accusations, and outright disgust. Nothing like that happened.

"Do you want to explain it to me now?" Samantha asked. She continued as if nothing out-of-ordinary had happened. He frowned at her. 'Was that some kind of test? If I go near her, will she play it again to embarrass me?'

"Uh, No. Didn't you say you have to leave early today? When is it?" He asked

"Yes. Thirty past four is good," she replied

"It's Four-Fifteen, now. We will not have enough time to do that. So, we'll do it on Monday."

"Sure," she said with a smile.

'Is she mocking me?' He thought. 'What if she is? What can you do? Just be happy that she is only mocking and not reporting you for inappropriate behavior.'

Then all three of them returned to their computer screens. Joe acted as if he was working. He was just looking at the clock on his screen, begging it to move faster. That's when he heard a soft thud of a shoe hitting the floor. He followed the sound. It was Maya who let the shoe fall to the ground. They were brown boat shoes, and she was wearing blue socks. The moment his eyes fell on her socked foot, pleasure filled him. He felt the shaft being erected. She tapped her foot from side to side to find where it fell. She struggled to get it onto her foot when she found it. She wriggled her toes and shoved them into the shoe. She crossed her feet at her ankles under the chair. He had clear visibility on both of her shoe soles. She played with her shoe, now. The mouth of her shoe swung back and forth onto the heel of her foot. He was hard as a rock. He reprimanded himself for looking at her feet. He reluctantly got his eyes off her feet. He looked up to see whether they noticed him or not. None of them were looking back, but he thought he saw a hint of a smile on Maya's face. He could only see very little of their faces, he might've imagined it.

'If that was not an imagination, what is she smiling at? Does she know I'm looking at her feet?' he thought. Then he told himself that she couldn't know.

Samantha stood up, turning off her computer at Four-Thirty. She said goodbyes to both of them and went off. Even that fifteen minutes seemed like an hour. When she left, his attention went back to the clock on his computer. Within a minute, he couldn't help but look at her feet. She still was playing with her shoe. He stared at her feet until the same shoe fell to the ground again. He swiftly turned his head. He noticed Maya swirling her chair back without putting her shoe back on. He looked up from his computer to her.

"So, Joe," she said.

"Hmm." He replied.

"You like feet?" she asked softly. It felt more like a statement than a question to him. He stared at her bluntness. He gulped, and he felt his throat as dry as a desert. He couldn't answer her straight away. He could only make some strange noises.

"Did I stutter?" she said. This time with a firmer tone. He felt she expected an answer.

"No," he looked down.

"Then you shouldn't stutter too, right? Look at me and answer," she said in the same tone.

"Yes." He resigned and accepted. There was nothing else for him to do. Denial will only prolong this. It was better to face it head-on, come what may. He couldn't understand where he was getting this courage from. He was crying like a coward yesterday. But he was glad for this courage.

She held up her finger and said, "No, no. There is no need for this cat-and-mouse game." She stopped immediately, and both were baffled by the other's words.

"Wait, you said yes?" she asked him. He nodded to her.

"I didn't expect that. I thought you'd deny it. And I have to persuade you into accepting it," she continued. "So, you like feet?" she asked him again.

"Yes." He said it again.

"I'm glad we have established that." She said with a broad smile on her face. That sure has mischievousness behind it.

"Joe, tell me. What do you like about feet?" she asked.

"Everything."

"Now I think about it. It was probably not the right question." She said, and he shook his head smiling.

"Why," she continued, "do you like feet?"

He couldn't explain that to himself. How could he explain it to her? So, he answered, "I don't know." The smile vanished from his face. He felt good sharing this part about himself with someone. Maybe he could trust her. Maybe, she could understand him.

"That was not a good question either." She thought for a bit and said, "Ah! What do you like to do with feet? That seems like a good question, right?"

He was torn to answer her. 'There was no point in staying in the middle. I already accepted almost everything might as well say all of it. Leap of faith.' He thought.

He swallowed. "Looking at them, touching them, caressing them, kissing them and..." he trailed off. 'And licking them and sucking them.' he thought. 'So, I can't say everything, huh? But that should be enough for now.'

"So, you have done stuff with feet before," she said. "I know it's your fetish and all, and it was stupid of me to ask that. But you had to agree that doing stuff is rather... different from watching a video." She said rapidly.

"Yes, it is. And no, I haven't done any foot.... stuff," he said.

"Oh," she said. "If you haven't done anything with feet, how do you know you would like touching, caressing, and all that."

'Fair point,' he thought. 'Should I answer? Just answer her.'

"See, I like looking at them. So, I assume I'll like all the other stuff," he said.

"We are saying stuff too many times."

"Yes, we are," he agreed. She cocked her to the side and frowned.

"You are holding back something. What are you not saying? You have done it previously, haven't you?" she asked expectantly.

"I..." he stopped and began again, "I imagine myself doing all those things. Sometimes, I also imagine someone ordering around to do so. It makes me feel good," he confessed.

"Am I any part of this?" she asked innocently.

"No, I would never do that," He lied.

"Why? Are my feet that ugly?" she seemed offended.

"No, your feet are beautiful," he said in a matter of fact of way.

"So, you have seen them."

"Of course, I have. You have a freak who likes feet behind you." She giggled at him. There was a moment of silence between them. He didn't know how to move past that. He said all he could about himself, and she hadn't freaked out. That seemed like a good sign to him.

"You like being ordered around, and it makes you feel good?" he nodded to her. "You haven't imagined me doing that? You probably are lying. But anyway, let's make that dream a reality. Come here." She ordered. He was stuck in his seat. He was trying to make sense of her words. Before, he could do that.

"Come here," she ordered again. This time he jumped up and almost ran to her. She giggled at his response. "Lock the door and come back." Now he ran to it, locked it, and returned to her.

"You see," she extended her socked foot forward. "I couldn't get my shoe onto my foot. I thought you might help me with it." He didn't move. He couldn't believe what was happening. He felt a sudden rush of pleasure.

"Well, get on with it," she was annoyed. Did she plan this all along? That didn't matter to him. Because his dream was becoming a reality, and that was all that mattered. He bent down to get her shoe. Maybe that was not how she wanted. So, she laid her foot on the shoe and kicked it back. The shoe raced back under her desk. He looked up only to see the devilish grin on her face.

"My poor foot is waiting, Joe," she said sullenly. "Get my shoe. Don't leave my foot hanging." She waved her foot.

He knelt to get her shoe, and she put her foot down. His face was so close to her feet. There was an increase in pleasure, and he also felt happier. He just wanted to touch her foot with his face. Even though he found the shoe immediately, he tapped his hand in looking for a longer time. So that he can keep his head nearer to her feet. He finally got her shoe back and stayed in the kneeling position. He looked up with a smile just to see an angry face. She seemed angry and disappointed with a brown leather journal in her lap.

"I'm disappointed in you," she said. He felt his heart drop. At that moment, he felt even sadder than when he was caught. "You left my foot hanging even when I said not to." He wanted to cry, his eyes turned red. "See, you are still not doing your task," she said with disappointment in her voice.

He took her foot into his hand and pushed it into the shoe gently. He looked up at her, and she smiled at him. That got his spirits up a little bit. But he felt something was missing. "I'm sorry for the earlier mistake. I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"As it is your first time, I'll forgive you. Do you want to make it up to me?" she said. He nodded furiously. "Well, in that case, you can kiss my shoe." He was shocked by her openness in this matter. This was going faster and better than he had expected. He bent down, kissed her shoe, and looked up at her.

She looked into his eyes and said, "Did I tell you to stop?" He shook his head. "Then go on. Shoo, shoo." She waved her hand with a pen between her fingers. He bent down to continue with his task. While he was kissing her shoe, he heard scribbling noise. (1)

'Is she writing about me?' he thought. That's when a realization hit him. 'Will she tell anyone about me? I have to make her promise not to do that.' He wanted to ask her that, but he remembered the disappointed look on her face. He didn't want to disappoint her again. It would be hard to know what she was writing without disappointing her. He realized he could do very little about what she was writing. So, he resigned himself to the task at hand, kissed her shoe, and started counting them.

He noticed the scribbling had stopped. She moved her foot to under his chin. She raised his chin with her shoe to look into his eyes. He felt pleasure from her domineering gesture. He was kneeling near someone, and she was handling him with her foot. This was a dream before today, and it was now becoming his reality. He closed his eyes, his mouth held open a little bit. He was letting himself feel the full current of the pleasure. That's when he heard her pen scribble again, but he didn't want to open his eyes again. (2)

When he opened his eyes, her journal was closed. She seemed concerned about something. "You're not going speak about this to anyone, are you?" she said with genuine fear in her voice.

"No, why would I do that? It will embarrass me more than you," he said. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Really? It is like we're one person."

He smiled at that. 'She doesn't look at me as a creep. I can trust her. If this is how I feel every time I do something she ordered, I'd better follow her lead.' He thought.

"No, seriously," she continued. "You can't say anything to anyone about this. Especially not to Sam. Sam and I were talking earlier, and she said we should ignore the video and move on." He was staring at her, wide-eyed "She warned me not to talk to you about it."

"No, I never would've said anything to anyone. But now, I will not utter a word about it. If she wants us to be normal, we can act normal."

She smiled and nodded. She still held his chin with her foot. "You know, I can see why you like this."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I like letting you do this. There is only one problem, though."

"What is it? I can correct it. You know, I'm pretty new to this."

"I'm pretty new too. The problem is, what do I get in return for letting you do the... stuff with me." she expected something.

"Whatever you want. I'll do anything."

"Anything, huh?" she laughed. "That's a cliché porn movie, Joe."

Now, he laughed. He was still on his knees. He looked up slightly. He didn't want to get his chin off her shoe. That touch was exhilarating him. "Well, what do you have in mind?" he conferred.

"I'll text you my address. Do come by tomorrow. For letting you do this, you'll have to clean my apartment." She said, "And also, I have some other things on my mind."

'Other things?' he thought. That thought made his pleasure rush.

She moved her other foot to his crotch. "Oh! There is no way to hide that you like this." She tapped at his crotch a few times and laughed. "You're hard." She laughed again. He smiled at his humiliation.

"Now, I have a task for you. I want you to go home with my socks. You'll clean them, hand-washed. And I want you to bring them tomorrow." He couldn't believe his ears. When he came to terms with the situation, he decided to go with the flow, lose the shock, and do everything she said. He raised his hands to the foot near his face to remove her shoe.

She kicked his hands away, rolled her chair backward so that her shoe would be right under his nose, and said, "Not so fast. I need you to have some routines. So from now on, whenever you're taking off or putting on my shoes or socks, you'll have to kiss them before and after." He couldn't control the rush.

He held her foot, kissed her shoe, and took it off gently. He put the shoe down, still holding her foot. He kissed her socked foot. He peeled her sock off her foot and kept that in his lap. He kissed her barefoot and looked up to see if there was any objection. There was none, and she was only smiling.

"I bet that stank," she smiled.

"No," he replied, "Not that much." He didn't take in the full effect of the smell, as the kiss was prompt.

"Yeah," she said. "Okay then, smell my socks and tell me how they smell." He held her foot with one hand, rolled the sock with the other, and brought it to his nose. He inhaled the stench from her sock. It was a foul smell. And he wanted to get that thing off his face. But the pleasure filled him, it was electrifying. He couldn't get the sock away from his nose. So, he inhaled more. He heard her laugh loudly. He can smell the sweat and saltiness of the sock. It churned his stomach, but his shaft said otherwise. Eventually, he forced himself to stop smelling it. The pleasure receded. He still was hard when he laid the sock in his lap and looked up at her. She was grinning, and her teeth were showing.

"So, how does it smell?" she asked mockingly. "And don't lie. I can see, you know." That was a comment on hard he was.

So, he told how he felt, "It was a horrible smell." She had a curious expression, and she definitely was not expecting it. He continued, "I felt so good about it. At times, I was struggling to put it down."

The smile on her face returned. She got her hand to her chest and said sullenly, "You offend me, Joe. I thought my feet smelled like flowers." He didn't how to respond to that. He didn't want to offend her. So, he decided to say that they did smell like flowers. Before he could open his mouth.

"I'm just messing with you," she laughed. He let out a relieved breath. "But you should say they smelled like flowers," she said with a firm tone.

"Yes, they smell like flowers and sunshine," he agreed.

"Aw. You're very kind, Joe." She cooed. "Tell me about my shoes, then." He was shocked, again. 'I have to stop doing that. She was kind enough to help me and I am acting like a wide-eyed idiot,' he thought. He took her shoe into his hand. He felt the dread while drawing her shoe closer to his face. When he put his nose into the mouth of her shoe, the dread he felt didn't suffice the stench he inhaled. The foulness hit him so hard, he thought he would faint. He wanted to puke. As on a cue, he felt the pleasure return to him. This time with more force than he could imagine. He felt his eyes close and mouth open a little bit. He didn't stop breathing in the stink of her shoe. He could only hear laughs faintly. But he had a small suspicion that she was laughing loudly. From a corner of his mind, he heard, 'More.' He inhaled her stench deeply. It was a mix of pleasure and a puking sensation. But he didn't stop breathing, because he couldn't shut the 'Mores' away. He took a deep breath. That's when he heard Maya say, "More. Take a long whiff." And he realized that it was not his mind asking him for more. It was Maya. He was so burrowed in his pleasure, he couldn't hear her. He did what she wanted him to do, he took a long whiff of her shoe. It was a foul scent of salt and sweat, but it felt like heaven to him. With that thought, he felt the pleasure increase. He let a soft moan out of his mouth. He opened his eyes and closed his mouth tight to stop any more sounds. She was stunned, and somehow still had a smile on her face.