* Chapter 2: Trouble Afoot *

"I saw you in the girls' locker room yesterday after school.

Sure glad I'm not in YOUR shoes, if you know what I mean!" I quickly folded the note which Laura Taylor had passed me this morning during first period History, and broke out instantly in a panicked sweat. I looked over at Laura, two seats away, who only smiled smugly at me. Laura was not a bad looking girl, but neither did she stand out by virtue of her appearance. On the one hand, she was a bit on the fleshy side, and never wore makeup or did much with her reddish hair, but I suspected she could be quite attractive if she wanted to. Her personality reminded me a bit of Margeret from "Dennis the Menace"; she was kind of stuck up in the sense that the school's ladder of popularity was beneath her - she wasn't an outcast or geek, but neither did she have a lot of friends.

People just didn't pay her much attention, and that seemed to suit Laura just fine. She _did_ seem to have an active interest in being a gossip or snitch since I had first met her, back in the 7th grade, and I knew full and well that she had the power to ruin the remaining two and half years of my stay here at East River in no time flat. I couldn't figure out _how_ she knew about my adventure yesterday, but the note made it clear enough that she did. On the bright side, I figured she hadn't spread the story around yet, or else she wouldn't have bothered with the note: she would have just let the grapevine have done its damage. "So what do you want?" I asked fearfully. After sweating through the last half hour of history (which seemed to last forever), I had caught up with Laura in the hallway outside of class. "Why what do you mean?" she replied, feining innocence, with the same smug grin on her face. "The note," I sighed. "I don't know how you know, but I guess you do. What do you want?" "Doug likes Kelly Finn," she began to chime in a singsong sort of way, antagonizing me further. "Stop it!" I gasped through gritted teeth. "Please! C'mon you don't need to taunt me about this - just tell me what you want; what your angle is. Please." "Just be at my house today at 3:00. If you're late, the whole school is going to know your little secret by lunchtime tomorrow. I promise." Laura just couldn't keep the superior smile off of her face, and I couldn't do a thing about it - she had me right where she wanted me. As she walked away down the hall, I could only sigh nervously, banging my head morosely against a locker, and heading off for my next class.

The rest of the day went by at an absolute crawl. Kelly wore her thongs again in Geometry, but today, I just didn't feel the desire to look at her feet and fantasize; I somehow felt self- concious just having her footsoles there in plain view in front of me. I just mainly stared at the clock in each of my classes, and kept to myself, and at last, after several months of waiting, 2:30 came, and 6th period was over, and I began the fearful trek to Laura Taylor's townhouse. Laura lived just about half a mile from the school - I had been to her house once before, about a year and a half ago, when her mother had hosted a small party for the 8th grade drama club, which we had both been members of. I did not run across Laura on the walk to her house, but as I nervously rang her doorbell, she answered almost immediately, with the same superior look on her face as she had had that morning.

As she invited me into her townhouse, I felt as if I were passing into the Gates of Doom, with no idea what lay within. "Come to my room," Laura announced, motioning for me to follow her upstairs, not paying much attention to me. She was dressed in jeans and a New York Ballet t-shirt, carrying a bottle of coke, with white socks and dirty sneakers upon her feet. Laura's bedroom was at the top of the stairs on the left, and looked like a typical 15-year old girl's abode; a white bedspread with pink stripes, a rocking chair in the corner with a stuffed giraffe upon it, a Beverly Hills 90210 poster and a framed Ralph Nagel print of a woman with short cropped hair and sunglasses.

Laura sat on the edge of her bed, sipped at her coke, and stared around the room in idle silence for a moment, deliberately calculated to make me sweat. "Sit on the floor, Doug." She seemed perfectly casual and perfectly confident in her order, and filled with nervous anticipation, I had no choice but to obey. "We need to talk," she explained, putting her coke on the nightstand, leaning back on her hands, crossing her legs. "I saw you yesterday in the girl's locker room, breaking into Kelly Finn's locker. That right there is enough to get you suspended. I then saw you take her sandals out of her tote bag.

I saw you _kiss_ them, Doug, and then you snuck off into the showers after closing her locker. I didn't see what you did after that, but I don't think I have to guess. I think Kelly, and the rest of the school, would be interested to hear all about this, don't you think?" And there it was - if there had ever been any doubt about Laura bluffing, it was all now a moot point. Laura had me right where she wanted me. "So tell me, Doug," she asked, after a tense, uncomfortable silence, "do you _like_ kissing girls' shoes?" "I guess," I answered nervously after a moment, staring at the floor. "Look at me when you answer my questions," she corrected sternly, "and answer them completely: 'Yes Laura' - make that 'Yes _Miss_ Laura, I like to kiss girls' shoes." With every moment, I was filled with a strange blend of emotions - fear and nervousness of being trapped like this, humiliation, and a strange slowly building excitement over this turn of events. "Yes Miss Laura," I responded meekly, blushing as I looked at her smug visage, "I like to kiss girls' shoes." "Would you like to kiss _my_ shoe, Doug?" "Yes, Miss Laura," I confessed, flushing with embarrasement.

I was scared and uncomfortable, but couldn't deny I was becoming aroused by this situation. I didn't espescially like the situation Laura had me in, but I couldn't honestly deny that there wasn't a part of me which didn't find it all quite exciting. "If you ask nicely, perhaps I might let you." I swallowed nervously, not able to fully believe the reality of the strange ritual I was being put through. "Please let me kiss your shoe," I began to beg meekly, unsure of exactly how to respond. "I want to please you, Miss Laura, and I want to kiss your sneakers, right here and now, and I promise I'll do a good job. Please let me." Laura had a satisfied smile upon her face, and planted both feet flat on the carpet in front of me. "Do it," she commanded casually. "Get on your hands and knees and worship my shoe." At this point, I needed no further prompting; I was embarrased, but I was also even more excited than I had been yesterday in the locker room. More to the point, I had no choice. I got on my hands and knees, bowed my head to the floor, and pressed my lips submissively to the scuffed toe of Laura's old, worn tennis shoe. With my eyes closed, my world narrowed and focused itself until all it contained was Laura's sneaker - the shoe I was now eagerly covering with kisses. I felt a huge erection swell up as I touched my lips again and again to the rubber toe, the canvas uppers, the grass-stained shoelaces and the metal eyelets through which they were threaded. After two or three minutes of this, Laura raised her shoe off the ground, presenting the dirty treads of its rubber sole. Not needing further prompting, I began slavishly licking each crevice and ridge, shamelessly covering the filthy sole of her sneaker with saliva as I excitedly ran my tongue from toe to heel, not caring about the bits of dirt and mud which came off into my mouth. Kelly Finn's sandals were sexy and exciting, but _this_ - to have a girl actually command me to kiss and lick her shoes, down on my knees, was more than I had dreamed possible. I occassionally risked a glance up at Kelly, and she seemed to be eating all of this up; she wore a confident, powerful, conquering smile on her face, very pleased with herself. "You _do_ like it, don't you?" she marvelled. No response was necessary on my part; it was obvious that I was intoxicated with the excitement of abaseing myself by licking the sole of her shoe. At last, to my disappointment, she withdrew her foot and stared at me in silence; I nervously looked at the ground, unable to speak. "You are completely in my power now, Doug," she remarked, very matter of factly, "and from now on, you're going to do everything I say." She paused for several moments, to let the ramifications of this simple fact fully sink in. Laura stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond. "Thank you," I managed meekly, "for letting me kiss your shoe." "You're going to do something for me now," she explained, standing up and walking across the room, "just to make things official. If you everything I tell you, Doug, we can have lots of fun together, but we have to make sure that you don't forget who is in charge." Laura withdrew a small microcassette recorder from her nightstand drawer and once again sat on the bed next to where I knelt. "You're going to describe what you did yesterday in the locker room - all of it. Do you understand?" I couldn't - but I didn't have a choice. Laura had broken my will; she had left me without any room to negotiate. I stared at her helplessly and nodded. With a satisfied smile, she clicked the record button on the tape recorder and held the microphone to my mouth. "Yesterday..." I began hesitantly, "After school, I snuck into the girls' locker room during cheerleader practice. Every day, during geometry class, I like to look at Kelly Finn's feet... she sits in front of me. Anyway, I went in Kelly's locker while she was outside, and stole her sandals, and went in the showers... and used them to masturbate with." After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Laura pressed the stop button and smiled. "Good," she announced. "Now take it out and show me how much you like _my_ feet." It took me a moment to realize that she wanted me to masturbate for her, and without further prompting, I unbuttoned my fly and took out my dick - it had lost its erection during the humiliation of having to confess to my deed for the tape recorder, but as I began to stroke the flacid head, I could feel the sexual urges beginning to stir. "Take off my shoe," she announced. "My left shoe. Untie it, take it off, and put it down at the foot of the bed." I followed her instructions carefully, undoing the laces and slipping off the worn sneaker. Her sweatsocks were slightly dirty, and her foot had a noticable sweet, musky smell. I couldn't believe my face was scant inches away from it. "Lie on your back," she commanded, "and play with yourself."

I didn't need to be told twice; I quickly assumed the requested position and masturbated myself to erection. My field of vision was soon filled with Laura's sweetly aromatic sweatsock, and gallons of blood gushed to my penis as she forcibly smothered my face with the sole of her foot. "Smell my foot!" she taunted, and I eagerly obeyed, sniffing her sweaty sole as I frantically rubbed my dick. She shifted enough weight onto the foot to press down firmly on my face, so it just began to feel uncomfortable. My excited moans and panting were muffled by the foot covering in my mouth, but I began pumping my stiff meat harder and harder, arching my back, deeply inhaling the sweet, musky smell of Laura's sock. "Smell it!" she ordered firmly, and as fisted my cock for all I was worth, I grabbed her foot with my free hand, trying to desperately pull it closer to my face, despite the fact that the ball of her foot was already being literally ground into my face.

With a final muffled gasp, my muscled all tensed, and I all but blacked out as great ropes of cum shot explosively out of my cock's head. For what felt like an hour, I continued to gush semen in spasmic bursts, all the time drinking in the feel and warm odor of Laura's foot. When at last I had settled and relaxed, she started to lift her foot from my face; I reached up with my free hand, lightly grabbed it, and gave a thankful kiss to the bottom of her foot through the sweatsock. It was not until then that I realized her breathing was heavy and excited as well.

I closed my eyes, relaxed totally, and let out a sigh. "Clean your mess," she ordered coldly after a pause, throwing a box of kleenex at me, rising to her feet. I noticed she had kicked off her other sneaker, and was now padding across the room in her socks. I looked down at myself, and mopped up the pools of sticky white cum which covered my t-shirt and jeans. Bits of the semen had landed on Laura's hardwood floor, but most of it annoited my clothing. "Laura..." I said shakily, pulling myself up to a seated position. "...Thank you." "You're welcome," she replied, matter of factly, smiling confidently. "Now put that thing away." She pointed at my now flaccid penis. "My parents will be home soon, and you have to leave." "Can we..." I began to ask nervously. "You will be on my doorstep tomorrow afternoon at three," she interrupted, "and any other time I tell you to. From now on, what I say takes top priority in your life. "You're not going to treat me out of the ordinary in school, but from now, if I tell you to do something, you'll do it - you just won't make a big deal out of it. Is that understood?" I nodded, my heart beating quickly, drifting in a mixed sea of fear and excited anticipation. "And one more thing," she instructed, taking a spiral notebook from her dresser drawer. "You're going to keep a journal of everything you do to serve me. You will not mention me by name in it - ever - but instead you will refer to me as your Master. I will read what you've written every once in a while, and sometimes I'll give you an assignment to write in it." I could hardly believe what I was being told as I was handed the notebook. "Is all of that understood?" she asked, as I stared blankly at the notebook. "Yes... Laura... Master", I managed after a moment. "You are excused." Without another word, I was shown out of her room, and left to let myself as Laura plopped down on her bed.

As I closed the front door behind me, I looked back at the townhouse, and swallowed in disbelief of what would lay ahead of me.