Demoted To Footgirl

Chapter 1

by alectashadow

Tags: #cw:noncon #cw:sexual_assault #D/s #dom:female #f/f #humiliation #pov:bottom #sub:female #boot_worship #boots #clothing #demotion_fetish #foot_fetish #foot_kissing #foot_worship #hypnosis #hypnotic_smoke #inappropriate_workplace_relations #mind_control #smoking #turning_the_tables #workplace

“We take things seriously here,” I say, in an admonishing tone. “I’m not going to cut you any slack just because we went to school together, Tina.” 

Tina chews her gum loudly, her replacement for not being able to smoke a cigarette, which she knows I won’t tolerate inside. She’s made a show of putting away her packet of cigarettes, a weird yellow-striped packaging from some brand I’ve never seen before, and now she’s making loud chewing noises with the gum.

Her cold green eyes fix me with the expressionless stare of a fish. 

I struggle to hold back a smug smile. She must have noticed I said went to school and not just because we’re friends. I doubt that surprises her. We were never friends, her and I. Our rivarly in high school was legendary, and only cooled down when we moved on to different colleges. 

She’d always had popularity on her side. There’s no question that I’m more of a loner, and when we were in school, she was the one with all the friends. And yet, now, I’m the one hiring, and she’s the one looking for a job. And I would lie if I said that didn’t give me an evil sort of satisfaction.

Tina, however, seems determined not to let me have this tiny victory. As she chews her gum – a disgusting habit that reminds me of all the times she was about to deliver a quip in high school – she nods her head in my direction. 

“Whatever you say, boss. I’m gonna bring you lots of clients anyway. You know that’s true.” 

I press my lips together. I already know this is going to be difficult. The way she says boss feels so condescendingly awful that I’m tempted to tell her off right from the start. As for her friends – frat jocks and insufferable Staceys for the most part – the prospect of taking their money to boost my own business just feels like comeuppance. 

But I hate that she feels it’s still a power move to mention them. Like she thinks I’ll feel insecure if she brings up that people liked her more readily than they liked me.

In a moment, the old tension returns. Like a field of electricity in the air. I’m thrown back to a time before this café, before college, a time of personal insecurities and drama. 

There was no reason for us to hate one another then, and there really isn’t now. It’s just… put us in the same room, and sparks fly. Like a chemical reaction. 

Back in school, I ended up competing with this girl for grades, clothes, boys… soon, the rivalry swallowed everything, even our social lives. She revelled in her popularity, while I flaunted the fact that I had few friends because I handpicked them. 

I look around. This is my vibrant, new café. My baby. I meticulously picked the hipster décor and polished surfaces, I took out the huge business loan to make my dream a reality. Do I really want to spoil this new chapter in my life, by forcibly injecting this bitch into it? Isn’t she best left in the past, together with acne and high school heartbreaks and all the anxious teen drama we’re happy to leave behind when we become adults?

Then, my eyes re-focus on Tina. Her smug expression, the way her long silken black hair frames her pale face to give her that ice queen look men always fawn over, falling head over heels in a way they never have with me.
And that’s when I know the truth.

I’m nowhere near as mature a girl as I thought. I want her working here. I want to rub it in her face that I own this place… or I will, when the loan is fully paid, I suppose. I want to lord it over her for once, possibly while her own friends are watching.

I want to win. 

“You’ll do the afternoon shifts with Alexis,” I tell Tina, flashing the most plastic and fake smile I’ve ever directed at anyone. “Laura and Emily will do the mornings.” 

All three girls – a brunette, a redhead, and a blonde respectively, like it’s the set up to a bar joke – are much younger than Tina and I, and need the money to help pay for college. I hope Tina will find it humbling, working alongside girls much younger than her, with me looming above them all.

“Sure,” Tina says, in a tone that suggests she couldn’t care less about who any of these people are. “So, is that a deal, Audrey?” 

I thrust my hand forward, clasping hers in a firm, strong grip that I hope sends tingles of foreboding coursing through her body, much like anticipation is coursing through mine.

Our gazes lock. I see no hesitation in her cold eyes, no defiance. She’s used to clashing with me, after all. But this time, I know that I will break her. 

And so, with some finality, I seal both our futures with my words.

“It’s a deal.”


One month bleeds into another. One morning blurs into the next. The novelty of bossing Tina around is no longer there, but I have no reason to complain about any of the four girls working under me. It’s not their fault that the spring in my step is gone, replaced by my constant worrying at my lower lip, and biting of my nails. 

My café… isn’t doing so well.

I give a heavy sigh as I sit behind the registry. The morning shift is coming to an end. Laura and Emily are serving the customers with commendable precision… the few that have come round, that is. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. This is a small, sleepy town. Not much going on. The people here are creatures of habit. It will get time for them to see a visit to this place as part of their daily routine.

But… how much time do I have? Because the loan needs repeating. So far, I’ve met every payment with punctuality, but I’ve had to make a few sacrifices here and there. Even worse than the actual financial predicament is my emotional state. 

Will I continue making every payment in time? What if I don’t? This is what I’ve always wanted to do with my life, it fits my self-perception to a T, and yet… it isn’t working. 

Am I a failure? Have I just been deluding myself? Am I a silly girl with silly dreams? 

My mood hardly improves when Tina makes her grand entrance into the café, her flat-heeled ankle boots resounding loudly as she marches her way towards the coffeemakers, like a soldier to a post. 

Her radiant smile has no hint of warmth. It’s a cold and distant thing, like a star in the night sky. And yet, Laura and Emily seem effortlessly taken in by her charm. 

The three girls immediately converge, delving into gossip and chatting – and are joined by Alexis soon after, ready for her own afternoon shift. 

The sounds really do feel like they’re straight out of high school. Quiet gossiping, loud laughter, a half-contained snigger here and there – and I have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about.

I resent how effortlessly they mingle. I was hoping this arrangement would humble Tina, but instead she’s the one my employees are happy to chat with. Me? I guess I’m too aloof and too somber for them. Or perhaps I’m just the boss.

Be that as it may, the conversation quietens as I approach the girls. They trade looks of mild awkwardness, as if not feeling free to talk gossip in front of their boss. The only exception is, of course, Tina, who matches my gaze with an air of distant contempt that makes blood pump in my veins. 

I reflect for a second, pondering various options for small talk I could attempt to kickstart, but after a moment’s indecision, I decide not to bother. The girls like Tina more than they like me, so what? Fine. I don’t need a team of adoring girls who see me as an inspiring leader, and who want this café to succeed just as badly as I do.

Even though that was one of my daydreams before I actually got started…

Eventually, Laura and Emily leave, while Tina and Alexis get ready to serve drinks and snacks to any incoming clients.

Outside, shadows lengthen as the sun begins to dip in the sky.

And, like every late afternoon, the number of customers begins to climb. 

I should be elated about this. In truth, these end-day influxes are the only reason why I’m meeting the loan repayments. But it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth, because, well…

These are Tina’s friends. 

Her social circle in this town is apparently as lively as ever, even after she spent time away for college. I hate seeing that. I hate that to this day, after years of growth and life plans, she’s still so much popular than I am – and that my financial situation depends on it. 

The jocks still look like jocks to me, but they’re no longer wannabe-football players. They work at the bank, or in corporate offices in nearby towns, or in construction. They come in here dressed like salary men, but the chiseled jawlines and looks full of mockery are always the same. 

The Staceys are dressed like they’re straight out of Stepford, and a few sport rings on their fingers. Those who work show up in office attires, nylons and flats much in evidence. They order their drinks and their snacks and chat with Tina. None deigns to throw even one look in my direction.

Sometimes I try to tell myself that I should see this as a good thing, not a bad thing. I’m using Tina’s popularity to essentially fund my business venture, after all. But it’s not so simple. 

When you’ve had a multi-year rivalry of this kind with another girl, there’s a sort of unspoken understanding between you and her, a kind of… killer instinct. I know how important mind games can be. I’ve played more than a few. And I can recognize when they’re being played on me. 

If Tina were to walk away, for any reason, I would lose a significant chunk of my customers. That gives her power, and she knows it. I can see it in her eyes, which dart in my direction and glisten with amusement every time a group of her friends enters the café. 

I can see it in the confidence she displays, sitting at one of the stools rather than stand by the coffeemakers, one leg draped over the other, a foot bobbing up and down. Dark, form-fitting jeans, dark ankle boots, dark hair… everything is dark except her pale skin, and her piercing eyes, so cold and full of mockery.

She doesn’t even look or dress like a waitress.

I can almost hear her thoughts as I throw disapproving glances at her for sitting and lazying around. So what? She’s probably thinking. Still bringing more paying customers than you, loser. 

And the really infuriating part is that she’d be right. 

Alexis doesn’t seem to mind Tina’s casual attitude towards work, and that baffles me even more. It’s like she has this aura, where people kind of expect her to do whatever she wants with no consequence. Indeed, Alexis likes Tina, tries to suck up to her at every opportunity, and is professionally cordial, but distant, with me. 

As the fifth group in a row enters to get drinks and snacks, I put my head in my hands. This café was supposed to be my dream.

So why do I feel like the situation is spinning out of my control? 

I see Alexis begin to fidget as this fifth group slowly makes its way out of the café, as if she’s waiting for the place to be empty enough to bring up something. I see no reason to hurry, so I wait patiently for her to come to me.

Eventually she does, hopping from one foot to the other, her hands running nervously through her flowing chestnut hair. 

“What is it, Alexis?” I ask at last. 

“I, uh, I wanted to ask if I… there’s this concert tomorrow night, and it’s after work! But I need to drive a bit to get to the stadium, and I was wondering if maybe uhh I could leave an hour earlier? I can do an extra hour any day to get back on track!” 

I smile as Alexis finally stops to catch her breath. I want to tell her to chill, that it’s fine, no issue with me – but I’ve scarcely opened my mouth that Tina barges in. 

“Go have fun, girl,” she says, as if she’s granting her permission. “I’m sure Audrey and I can cover for you.”

It is very peculiar, the way you can be perfectly calm one moment, and boiling up with rage the very next. My hands ball into fists, my teeth dig into my lower lip, and I get ready to tear into Tina for daring to undermine my authority in front of my own employee. 

But then, to my absolute astonishment, Alexis looks away from me – turns her back to me – and squeals in Tina’s direction. 

“Oh Tina, thank you so much, you’re the best!” 

“That settles it then,” Tina says, smirking, and tellingly, her eyes are not on Alexis.

They’re on me. 

I open and close my mouth in rage, unable to find the words. The thoughts are all jumbled in my head – I want to remind Alexis who pays her salary around here, who owns the place, who calls the shots. But I’m so angry I can’t formulate coherent sentences.

And I’m worried that Alexis will see me like too much of an ass. She’s already distant enough with me in most circumstances, and I’d already intended to say yes…

Damn it, this could have been an opportunity to get Alexis to warm up towards me, and instead, that bitch had to hijack it. 

“Yes,” I say eventually, calming down. “It’s settled. But Tina, I’d like to speak you after the shift is over,” I say, expecting her to groan, or roll her eyes. Instead, she stares wordlessly at me, and then looks away, focusing on her phone. 

I envy her calm demeanor. I myself cannot focus on anything for the remainder of the afternoon, drumming my fingers nervously on the desk. All my confrontations with Tina have always had this effect on me, the blood seems to rush to my head, adrenaline pumps through me, and I can’t really sit down and think. 

But eventually, closing time comes about. Alexis and Tina take turns cleaning the café before the shift is over, and today, it’s Tina’s turn, which is convenient. My old rival is out back by the dumpsters, grabbing a smoke, just as Alexis leaves. 

That will give me the opportunity to talk to Tina, and remind her who’s in charge, before she cleans the place and we can both go home and forget this absolute dog of a day ever happened. 

The moment the front door shuts behind Alexis, I gather my wits about me, and march out back, into the parking lot, wrinkling my nose at the smell coming from the dumpsters. 

I find Tina leaning against a wall, puffing a smoke while looking up at the night sky, for all the world like she’s got nothing to worry about. 

I know this detachment is at least partly performative, meant to put me off balance. It’s very different from when we used to clash in high school. It was all high-pitched drama, back then. 

I step into her personal space, hands on my hips, the image of a pissed-off boss. 

“Tina, we need to talk.” 

She arches an eyebrow in my direction, smirking. “Did I get your panties in a twist earlier, boss?” 

“What makes you think you have the right to grant off time to my employees?” I ask, and my voice is already beginning to rise in pitch. I’m angry, and this isn’t going to be some controlled dressing down. I’m going to shout at her, I already know it. 

“You work for me,” I add, pressing my index finger into her chest. “I pay your salary.” 

“Doesn’t look like that to me,” Tina says with a snort. “Without me, this place is finished. Tell me, are you having troubles with the loan, Audrey? Do you need Tina’s precious, generous friends to keep the place going, because all your friends are unemployed losers with an empty wallet?” 

I open my mouth in shock at her sheer gall. Uggh, this girl! The rage and humiliation and fear that she might be right are all coursing through my veins, making me stammer in anger. But before I can get into a shouting match, Tina inhales deeply from her cigarette…

And then blows the smoke into my face. 

“You need me,” she says, as I cough and blink my watery eyes at the smoke. “So don’t get all uppity with me.” 

This is the point where I fucking lose it.

How dare she smoke in my face, while I’m reproaching her?? Who does this insufferable bitch think she is? How has she somehow gotten worse than in high school?

I don’t think. There is no time for thoughts. All the anger that’s been building up inside me finally boils over. This one final act of disrespect pushes me over the edge. 

My hand flies into the air, and races down towards her face. 

Tina doesn’t even drop her cigarette, firmly secured in her left hand while her right darts upward, meeting my own hand mid-air. I barely have the time to be surprised by the speed of the reaction that I feel her fingers clasp around my wrist, pushing in a lateral motion.

And then, Tina twists.

And the pain is like something out of this world. 

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” I shout, as Tina’s twisting pulls me even closer to her, close enough that I can smell her smoky breath. I’m trying to follow her pull, to minimize the strain on my arm, but there’s only so much I can do.

“What are you doing? You’re hurting me!” 

“So what?” Tina asks, her eyes full of mockery. “What are you going to do, fire me? And lose all your precious customers?” 

My eyes are tearing up from the pain, and blood is roaring in my ears, but worse of all is the humiliation, which I’m only beginning to fully realize. I raised a hand against my own employee, my old rival… and now she has me in a hold, and I don’t know what she’s going to do to me. 

Tina takes another puff off her cigarette, looking completely unfazed, and once more blows smoke into my face, making me cough and wheeze. 

I hate how self-satisfied she looks as she does it. The look of triumph and victory and utter regal superiority etched into every inch of her ice queen face. The way the smoke seems to cling to me, invading my airways, sticking to my skin, like a haze that reminds me of Tina’s capacity to bully me.

Damn, when did she get this strong? 

“Just what I thought,” Tina says. “See? Even you acknowledge that this café is hopeless without me. Say it.”

Like hell I’m going to say it. She may be controlling me like a puppet, but I’ll have her literally break my arm before I admit it. 

“Fine,” Tina says, as if reading my thoughts. And then, she pulls, and twists, and bends – and the pain is incredible, lancing from my muscles all the way up to my shoulders. 

“It’s true!” I shout, hating myself for my weakness. “I need you to ah-ah-ah… to p-p-pay my loans!” 

“On your knees,” Tina says, and I blink once, twice, uncomprehending. The pain is creating a thick fog that is harder and harder for my thoughts to penetrate. I feel so confused.


“I said, on your fucking knees,” Tina says, and one of her ankled boots suddenly darts forward, slamming into my shins. With a cry of pain, my knees hit the tarmac, and all of a sudden I find myself looking up at my old rival, and my employee.

This situation is absurd. How did we get here in the space of literal seconds? I need an exit strategy, I need things to return to normal again.

“I’m sorry I tried to hit you,” I say, whimpering like a baby girl. “Please let go of my arm, it hurts!”

“You’re only sorry because it didn’t work,” Tina says, twisting once more for good measure, and I close my eyes to try and block off the pain, with no success. “You should apologise to me with deeds, not with words.” 

“W-what do you want?” In truth, I think I’d agree to almost anything to make this excruciating pain stop. 

But the next words to come out of Tina’s lips send a chill down my spine.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for years,” she says, venomously. “It’s time to settle the score for good.”  

My free hand flail sagainst her, trying to pry her grip apart, clawing, scratching. But it’s no use. 

“Give me a raise,” Tina says, her tone ice-cold, “or I quit.” 

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Tina, you know I can’t afford it! We barely scrape enough as it is!” 

“How is that my problem?” She says, twisting my arm even further, eliciting further cries of pain out of me. “You’re the shitty employer who can’t run a bar. Take it out of your own money, eat nothing but canned tuna, what do I care? This is non-negotiable.”

And then, for good measure, Tina blows another long draft of smoke into my face. 

I whimper, and not just out of the pain, or the smell. I am suddenly conscious that I’m teetering on the edge of a steep incline, and the only way is downwards.

If I yield to her now, to what is outright blackmail, then what else is she going to demand? Where am I going to draw a line?

Will I ever be able to?

On the other hand, though, I’ve put my entire life into this café. I can’t lose it. It’s too high a cost, and I’d do anything to make it succeed. Anything…

“F-f-fine,” I say at last, tears rolling down my cheek at the idea that I’m essentially giving myself a paycut to bump Tina’s salary. “Can you let me go now?”

“I’m not done,” Tina says, pulling deeper on her cigarette, until her cheeks are puffy with smoke.

As it blows into my face, I begin to feel dizzy. I want to chastise her for exposing me to so much smoke, for the health consequences this might have, but words barely form in my mind, let alone on my lips. 

Besides, there’s something so… mesmerizing about the way the smoke seems to create patterns around me. How it shifts and morphs into shapes that make no sense, but have a beauty all her own…

A part of me, very distant and remote, feels increasingly alarmed. Something is wrong. I’m starting to fear that Tina deliberately provoked me into having a confrontation with her afterhours, so that she could do this unimpeded, but… how, why…

I don’t know. It’s so hard to think. It’s soooooooo much easierrrr to just watch the drifting smoke… Tina’s eyes, floating behind the smoke like cold, distant stars… 

Tina speaks gently in my ear, as the smoke engulfs me.

“I’m going to go home soon. You’re cleaning the place tonight. And tomorrow morning. And tomorrow night. And again, and again, and again…”

Her words flow into my ears like a waterfall into a rocky pool. I am, somehow, fully aware of just how much she’s diminishing me, disrespecting my role, undermining my authority – and yet helpless about it.

“Ooookay,” I say, “but… my arm…”

“I’ll sit at the registry from now on,” Tina says, blowing even more smoke into my face. It dances around me, like so many snakes, slithering upward, coiling into my hair, worming their way into my airways to take control of me…

Why did I just think that? Why would smoke ever control anyone? 

“It makes sense,” Tina continues. “I’m the only reason you can repay the loan. I should control the finances of the place, don’t you think?”

“I… I don’t think-”

“That’s right, you don’t,” Tina says mockingly, and more smoke follows. “Especially when I’m through with you. The guy who sold me these cigarettes knew what the hell he was talking about, heh.”

“I don’t… follow…” I say, my head pounding. I cough, spit, wheeze, and curse, but it’s all in vain. 

More smoke follows. And with new inhalation, my brain feels mushier. More… malleable. 

“Not everyone can use them,” Tina says, but her voice feels so far away, like she’s not really talking to me. “You need to perfect the way you direct the smoke outward. See?” 

A beautiful smoky ring departs her lips, expanding as it travels the short distance between our faces. It loses coherence as it approaches me, drifting into shapelessness just as it washes over my face. And, strangely, that makes my cunt twitch and pulse… 

What is happening to me? 

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you with nothing to do,” Tina says, her free hand now stroking my hair. “You can help the other girls serve at the tables while I sit at the registry.” 

“What…” I croak, and the words are so difficult to come by. “Are you taking… away… from me…”

It’s incredible, how her eyes seem to glimmer behind the cover of smoke. Like a pair of emeralds…

“No, silly girl,” she says in a cold voice. “I’m just making sure you can pay the loan. Let me handle that. You only need to worry about waiting on customers and cleaning the stores. No complex thoughts at all. Even Alexis, Laura, and Emily will learn to give you instructions soon.”

No… they’re much younger than me, I’m their employer, I… I won’t be a waitress, this isn’t why I took up the loan for, I…

“But wait!” Tina says, in mock-pensiveness. “If I control the financial side of the operation, and boss all of you around… you especially… wouldn’t that make me the boss?” 

Her face emerges from the drifting smoke, closing in on me, so close that I can see the tiny imperfections on her porcelain skin, the way her lips curl to reveal her predatory smile, the depth of her green eyes, like the ocean in storm… 

I try to protest. To tell her that she works for me. But that’s not what comes out at all.

“Eeeekkk,” I say. “Guuuhhh.”

A wave of unmitigated dread washes down on me like a tidal wave. Why can’t I form words? Why do I always get sidetr – god, the smoke is so pretty, prettier than any guy I’ve ever liked, prettier than freedom, prettier, even, than Tina…

“Couldn’t agree more,” Tina says, her eyes lit up with amusement. “Say, Audrey, have you ever kissed a girl without her consent?” 

“Gnnnhh?” I ask, my tongue fumbling in a desperate attempt to form words. My eyes dart this way and that in panic, but around me, I see only smoke. 

“It’s such a rush,” Tina says. “The way you can pin her to a wall, or force her to her knees… pull her hair… make her feel you’re stronger, and you’re going to take what’s yours… subdue her, until she melts, and moans into your lips…” 

And just like that, Tina’s lips lock onto mine. And the small part of me that still thinks this situation is complete madness, that this girl is my employee and my hated rival and the abuser who’s going to break my arm, is blown away, literally.

Because upon kissing me, she blows a lungful of smoke right into my mouth, and it seems to travel straight to my clit, and all the neurons in my body fire up at once and then shut down as my eyes roll back into my skull.

When at last Tina’s tongue withdraws from my conquered lips, I barely notice her releasing my arm. The sudden tingling that spreads through my muscles and to my shoulders, the unresponsiveness of the muscles, the lingering pain, all these things are nothing, compared to the pressure of her hand, pushing my face towards the ground. 

“Lick my boots,” she says, and the word hits me like the coil of a whip. My back curves upward as I prostrate myself before her without hesitation. All thoughts of resistance and defiance are fleeting, they seem to escape through my fingers like water, or, perhaps…

Like smoke.

An electric shiver of erotic surrender courses through me as my tongue makes contact with the surface of her ankle boots. I can’t even feel the polished leather in my tastebuds – everything tastes like smoke to me, it still clings to every pore of me, like a symbol of Tina’s victory over me.

But I do feel the texture, harder than any cock could ever hope to be, unyielding and merciless. My tongue is soft and meek, it gives way and changes its shape, but Tina’s boots stand their ground, literally, as I polish them to a high sheen with my saliva.

“Will you offer Alexis, Emily, and Laura a foot massage at the end of their shifts?” Tina asks, her voice full of lust and cruel hilarity. 

“Guuuhh,” I answer, wondering what my three employees would say of my sudden inability to speak… but imagining them reassured by Tina, all four girls sitting in stools by the bar as I prostrate myself before them, panting like a dog, leaving a trail of cunt juices on the floor like I’m a snail, having to clean up afterwards with my tongue, slobbering over the four pairs of feet in their lovely black nylons, while smoke drifts through the room…

I am only dimly aware of Tina’s other boot clumsily kicking the boot off. The boot I’m polishing is now so clean I can see my own reflection in it, and I’m shocked by how dumb and glassy my eyes look, like a stupid cow’s…

Suddenly, Tina’s booted foot lifts in the air and comes down harshly against my cheek, slamming my head against the tarmac. I whimper in pain and arousal, breathing in as much smoke as I can, every time Tina blows more in my direction…

The toes of Tina’s shoeless foot sneak past my lips, and I begin fellating them, while her boot drags across my entire body, as if I’m a doormat for her to clean the bottom of her shoes on. 

She wipes the dirt off with my cheek, my shirt, my boobs, my belly… and eventually, the tip of the boot comes to rest on my crotch, and as I pant and whimper, my hips begin to buck against it, like I’m some kind of bitch in heat. 

“Will you move in with me?” Tina asks, while her toes gently explore every crevice of my open mouth. “You won’t have any money to pay for rent, of course, since I’ll be in control of the café’s finances. But I know how you can pay me back. You can work for me for free. As a maid at home…”

Her eyes glimmer with cruel triumph as her foot snakes deeper into my mouth. “… And as a waitress here.”

“Gluk,” I say, half-choking, half-sobbing over Tina’s foot, while begging the boot between my legs to press harder, to start rubbing, to make me climax.

My former subordinate is putting her feet all over me as she demotes me, and all I can think about is being taken to orgasm. That… and the smoke. Always the smoke.

Tina’s expression is like a work of art, and I suddenly understand why so many boys over the years have bent over backwards for her. She seems endlessly amused and gratified as my lips follow every single movement of her foot, coating every part that I can reach in my saliva, my defeat, and my adoration. 

“There is no going back for you, you know that?” She asks, as the tip of her boot finally rests upon my clit, flicking it ever so gently…

“The moment you cum, your mind is mine. Your money is mine. Your business is mine. Your will is mine.” 

“Mmmpphh,” I moan sluttily from around her foot, bucking and moaning against her boot. Tina’s laughter echoes in the parking lot, like the cruelest of songs. 

“Alright,” she says, in a tone that is in equal parts lusty and ominous. “So be it.” 

And it takes mere, delightful, humiliating seconds of boot friction against my sex, to send my mind tumbling and my neurons misfiring at the very idea that this orgasm is going to cost me everything I’ve ever worked towards, and yet I’m going to seek it anyway because in the space of a few smoke puffs she’s turned me into an addict and my will is broken and my mind is conquered and my speech is gone and oh god! 

When the climax comes, it’s like an EMP, going off straight at the center of my brain. It’s a blinding flash of pure light, it’s an energy pulse that ripples across every muscle of my body, it’s a power surge that shuts down my cognitive processes. It’s a haze, enveloping every part of me, like the smoke. 

I want to thank Tina for enslaving me, I want to thank her for taking the café away from me, she knows how to run it best anyway, I want to thank her for taking charge with Alexis earlier, thank her for smoking… but none of that comes out of me.

“Oh,” I say instead, and, “gkkkhh…”

And that’s when I know that Tina has won the war, and that my climax is the instrument of unconditional surrender. 

“Open up, and swallow,” Tina says as her foot withdraws from my mouth. Unthinking, my mind still reeling and permanently diminished, I part my slutty lips for her.

The sound of spitting resounds in the hair like the crack of lightning. 

It’s the ultimate gesture of disrespect. Tina thinks I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m something less than a person, a filthy piece of living trash that deserves nothing good in life. She thinks I’m so beaten that she gets to spit on me with no consequence.

No, even worse.

She spits in my mouth. The mouth that’s just been used to sing her praises in guttural moans, lick her boots clean, and slobber all over her foot, is now little more than a repository for her own saliva, a receptacle for her own spit. 

Like a good girl, I press my lips together, and I swallow. 

“I win,” Tina says, placing one foot over my cheek as the other rubs into my defeated, spent sex. I’m only dimly aware of her hand snaking into her own pants. “At last. I win…”

And she’s right, I consider, as I swallow her spit for the first time, but certainly not the last. I know that for a fact.

I know, because her spit tastes funny, and good, and addictive, and kinda… like smoke. 

And I’d do anything to taste it again.

Absolutely anything…

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Thanks for your support, it's the only reason why I can write these stories in the first place!

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