Thursday, July 14, 2011
What A Tangled "Web" We Weave
What A Tangled "Web" We Weave
By Amber email@example.com
Cassie had constructed quite a good business for herself in the last few years. It had all started simply enough, but in the end she was able to quit her part time job and center solely on school. True, it didn't pay all of the bills, but what financial aid didn’t cover, her little business did in spades. Of course it all came to a rather abrupt end one Saturday afternoon in July.
The idea for the business would never have occurred to Cassie on her own. It was something that seemed hard to believe at first, but the more proof she had, the more feasible the whole thing had seemed. The actual evening of her initial discovery of the phenomena was hardly innocent in and off itself. She had heard that a few girls in her University were selling naked pictures of themselves through a certain adult web site run by a frat on campus. Of course the whole thing was hush hush, but it seemed everyone but the faculty knew about it ... or else they pretended not to know since they were avid customers of the web site which seemed a more plausible story to Cassie.
Money was always tight and the idea seemed tempting, but Cassie could not reconcile the idea of everyone seeing her naked ... especially her peers on campus and most off all the professors. She shuddered to think about it in fact. After a month of mulling the prospect over, curiosity got the better of her and Cassie typed the web address, which she had by now memorized, into her browser and hit enter. She immediately recognized most of the girls on the welcome page. She didn't know any of them personally, but had seen them around the quad a time or two. The initial shock of seeing these girls naked and in lewd situations sealed her mind to the idea once and for all. One thing that caught her attention before leaving the site in disgust was a body of text beneath one of the photosets for sale.
The message was as follows: "After you see Rose and Cindy fuck each other up the Hershey Highway with a monstrous jet black dildo ... click on over to Ebanned to bid on the very same rubber dong used in the photo shoot! It comes unwashed and bathed in their inner-anal feminine fragrance!"
Cassie had to choke back a gag. The thought that someone would actually pay money for a dildo that had been up two girls’ butts was astounding. The more she thought on it, the least surprised she became. After all, there were a lot of freaks out there. On a whim she followed the link to Ebanned. The offer must have been an old one, because the link was invalid. She was taken to the welcome page instead. It was one of the featured bids that caught her eye and changed her financial status for the next three years.
The title of the auction was as follows: "***A Footman's Dream***Mistress Avalon's STANK STOCKINGS". The auction page displayed a picture of a woman in a leather halter top with her stocking clad foot extended towards the camera. Her face was off camera, but what was visible didn't leave much to the imagination as far as her breasts were concerned. The auction description claimed that "Mistress Avalon is looking for a new foot slave. The winning bidder will receive personal e-mails and photos from the Goddess herself as well as one phone sex session! With the winning bid also comes a pair of Mistress Avalon's heavenly hose, soaked in her blessed foot sweat! These hose are guaranteed to be worn for three days, peeled from the goddess's foot by her own hand and then shipped to you vacuumed sealed for freshness. You're nose won't know what hit it! The magical scent of Mistress Avalon's perfect peds awaits you!" Hilarity was Cassie's first reaction. What kind of loser would pay money to smell some girl's smelly old stockings?! That was almost worse than the dildo! Her laughter was cut short when she glanced up at the section for bidding. The total was already at $125.00! It then ceased to matter what kind of person would bid on such a thing ... what mattered is that they did bid.
Cassie knew her own feet became pretty aromatic after an afternoon jog. At times her friend's had actually complained about her feet. She'd always thought of her smelly feet as an unfortunate thing, never a positive attribute. The gears in Cassie's head rapidly clicked away. She had numerous socks and stockings that needed to be retired. She thought of all the stinky pairs of footwear that had made their final rest in a trash bag and gritted her teeth. The greed began to take hold when she thought of all the socks, hose and cheap shoes she could stink up. She'd be rich!
That very night, Cassie registered with Ebanned and a few nights latter posted her first auction. Writing the description was harder than she had thought it would be. What did someone who sniffed feet want to hear anyway? She surfed the other "smelly" auctions until she felt confident that she understood at least part of what was expected. Her description read: "Own your very own pair of Lady Sandra's smelly socks! Worn for three days in her hot stinky boots and then shipped directly to you for your sniffing pleasure! You’ve never smelled sexy feet as raunchy as this!"
When Cassie finished, she felt mildly embarrassed. After all, what woman in her right mind would boast of her bad foot smell ... especially in a sexual way? For some reason it didn't make her feel any better that dozens of other women were doing just that on the web site. It wasn't that Cassie was overly sensitive about her feet ... after all she laughed good-naturedly when friends made jibs about her "stinky-feet" following an afternoon jog. It just seemed so alien. Centering her mind on all the money she could earn, Cassie was about to submit the auction despite her misgivings when a thought occurred to her: All of the auctions that seemed to be successful were accompanied by a picture ... if not three or four.
Cassie wasn't about to post her face along with this thing ... so where did that leave her? Sure she wouldn't mind including pictures of her feet, which Cassie knew were considered attractive, or even pictures of the dirty socks she meant to part with ... but she'd never owned a digital camera and didn’t know anyone who did. She knew she had a clunky old Polaroid in her closet, but without a scanner of some sort the pictures would be worthless. She wasn't about to snap off some Polaroids of her feet and march them down to the computer lab at school to scan on the flatbed. There'd be way too many embarrassing questions if someone saw what she was doing. Besides, the nineteen inch monitors were like mini-billboards and would most assuredly give her away.
Cassie gnawed on her lip in deep frustration. She could go ahead and submit the auction without a picture, but she wanted to do this right or not do it at all. She was on the verge of giving up when something came to mind. She giggled out loud with triumph and began to rummage through her desk. After ten minutes of frustrated searching she found what she was looking for in the hall closet. She inserted the Kodak photo disc into her CD-ROM drive. Using the thumbnail option, she found what she was looking for. Her smile was so large by this point that it seemed to split her pretty face nearly in half. What she sought was way better than she remembered. It was fucking perfect in fact!
The Kodak disc had been sent to her by her ex boyfriend the summer before last. She'd been at home during spring break and Dave had taken three rolls worth of film. Almost all of the pictures had been of Cassie doing various mundane things. The guy was heartsick over her going to school out of state and had responded with the maniacal picture taking once she was back for the week. The disc had arrived in the mail one week after she had broken off their two year relationship. She thought it was a feeble attempt at getting her back by reminding her of that week ... unfortunately for him that week and his obsessive picture taking had heralded her initial thoughts of the eventual break up. She'd peeked at the disc, had a few laughs, and then tossed it into her desk with thoughts of throwing it out eventually. Somehow it had found its way into the closet instead of the trash. She was happy it had.
It took her a while to figure it out, but within the hour, Cassie had the photo attached to her auction. Beneath her promise of the smelliest socks ever lay the photo in all its glory. Cassie couldn't help but laugh each time she looked at it, and knew likewise that most "normal people" would as well ... but she had a feeling of certainty that it would have quite a different effect on those bidding for her nasty socks. Basically, as far as Cassie was concerned, the picture couldn’t be more perfect.
Dave had snapped a quick shot of her taking a break from dancing her ass off at The Cave. The Cave was a hip-hop club she had frequented regularly when she had still lived at home. She remembered wearing a new pair of thigh high boots that night. They’d felt like murder on her feet after an hour on the dance floor. With Dave protesting, Cassie had been forced to take a seat and cool it for a bit. After having peeled off the torturous boots, Cassie had deposited her bare feet on the table to flex her toes and air out her now sweaty hooves. The smell had been pretty bad and Cassie was soon forced to put the boots back on for proprieties sake if nothing else.
During her foot airing, Dave snapped the fateful picture which captured a scene that would have otherwise gone unnoticed by both of them. Sitting at the table next to her were two young girls, roughly the same age as Cassie, maybe 21 or 22. Both were looking at her feet with avid disgust, noses scrunched and lips pressed tightly together in revulsion. Cassie's bangs had fallen down, obscuring her face from the camera, but her sweaty looking bare feet and the two disgusted girls suffering the stink-out were captured perfectly. Like the old adage, the picture spoke a thousand words. Maybe one-thousand and one in this case!
The next night, Cassie was amazed to find her newly created Yahoo e-mail account, under the name Lady_Sandra, filled to capacity with e-mails. Each one was full of the horny ramblings of men enamored with her feet and letting her know they had placed a bid at Ebanned. Most wanted to know who the girls in the picture were and if she had forced them to smell her feet latter that night. They also wanted to know if she would send them naked pictures of herself and write them an e-mail detailing what she would do to them if she had them tied up and at her mercy. These questions seemed juvenile and utterly ridiculous to Cassie. These guys seemed like total morons ... most of them barely able to complete a valid sentence. There were a few in the bunch that seemed to come from educated men ... those were a little less obnoxious. Cassie reasoned that she had asked for it by posting the auction, but still couldn’t bring herself to answer any of them. Instead she logged into Ebanned to see the status of her auction.
She very nearly swallowed her tongue. The total was already up to $165 and there were four days left in the auction. That night she found a pair of suitable socks and wore them non-stop for the next three days.
The man who won the auction paid $175 plus shipping. His name was Bill Marshal, 41, tax consultant. He was very polite in his e-mail and said that he couldn't wait to receive the socks. Cassie was as sweet as possible and thanked him for his bid, keeping things non-sexual and very business like. Of course this attitude would change over the next three years, but this was her first time after all.
Not really thinking things through, Cassie had him send the payment to her apartment. After receiving the money-order three days latter, she considered the fact that this stranger now knew where she lived. The reality of it was staggering. What had she done?! The really sad part is that it was sent from within the same state as Cassie’s University, but she’d never heard of the town. Cassie spent so much time with school that she’d never aquatinted herself with the surrounding area. For all she knew, he lived twenty minutes away!
Cassie sat down that night and typed in the name of the city on a map program on-line. She was a little unsettled to find it was a town about an hour away. She thought things through and realized that she had to be more careful in the future. She knew this guy seemed mature and sweet in his e-mails, but he could be a serial killer for all she knew. He might even show up on her doorstep wanting to smell her feet in person. The idea was gross and very scary at the same time. She pictured herself tied up and gagged, thrashing around violently on the floor as this middle aged man, who was so sweet in his e-mails, jacked his little pecker while sniffing at her feet like a pig rutting for a truffle. The thought gave her a big enough chill to spill her coffee on her new white blouse. That week she secured a P.O. Box that handled all future mailings pertaining to her web personality, "Lady Sandra".
In the three years since Cassie had established herself as "Lady Sandra" she grossed well over $25,000 auctioning and selling her soiled panties, smelly footwear (including socks, hose, and shoes) as well as personal cyber-sex e-mails. After the first year she slacked off with her level of quality. Most socks or hose that she sent were worn one to two days with showers in between. They barely had a scent and she charged anywhere for $20 to $30 a piece on her homepage ... more in the auctions.
Eventually, she began to get a bad reputation for her near scentless footwear and business suffered. Cassie solved this dilemma by logging on under false identities in chat rooms, forums and message boards proclaiming her footwear the stinkiest around. She felt no guilt about it since she was never really a part of this "footsmelling" world to begin with… she just reaped the profit from it. And why not? She knew she wasn’t the only girl out there doing it for the buck. She was sure there was no such thing as a women who got off on smelling feet or having someone smell theirs, it just didn’t seem likely … she was just one of the many con-chicks on the net. Of course a few lucky customers got a pair of her running socks from time to time which were enough to melt nose hairs, but on the large people got ripped off and that was fine by Cassie. . She felt it was capitalism at its finest.
One customer, among the many, always received a pair of especially smelly items and was never taken for a ride. This customer was of course Mr. Bill "I know your home address" Marshal. Cassie always tried to tell herself it was because he was the first in the long line of men buying her footwear that she gave him special treatment, but in her heart she knew it was self preservation. He knew where she lived. Each time he placed an order, he would always send his payment to her home. The paranoid side of her nature would’ve said it was because he was reminding her that he had the goods on her. Of course, when Cassie really thought things through she knew that wasn’t it. She never had the guts to tell him to stop though … and what difference would it make anyway. He certainly wouldn’t forget the address just because he wasn’t using it for his mailings.
Cassie tried her best to keep that relationship as businesslike as possible, trying hard not to give him any ideas. Of course he did pay for package deals on occasion that included erotic personal e-mails. Cassie was always nervous when writing them. What if he got the wrong idea and decided to show up in person? Each time she wrote these e-mails, she spent the next week having nightmares about Bill Marshal Tax Consultant, arriving at her apartment late at night and having his way with her.
After a while, these dreams began to take on a more sexual tone. A few of those nights, Cassie woke up horny as hell in response to the images played out in her sleeping subconscious. School didn’t leave much room in her life for sexual liaisons and the nasty e-mails she wrote filled the void to an extent … but the dreams made her realize just how sex-deprived she had become. Just the year before, the idea of a graying man tying her up to finger her anus and sniff her feet would have terrified her … now, strangely enough, it was beginning to turn her on. It had gotten to a point that she almost wished he would show up on her doorstep late one night. Of course someone did show up eventually, though it wasn’t Bill and it was far from a late night visit.
It was mid July, and Cassie was working overtime on her homepage, trying to fill more orders than she could handle to make her money stretch until her next financial aid check arrived. Lots of guys were getting stiffed as far as the "stink department", but that was just par for the course by now. Having finished a rather nasty little e-mail to a third grade school teacher in Iowa, Cassie got up to stretch and get a glass of lemonade. After gulping down the glass, she began to notice the pressure in her bladder that had increased over the last twenty minutes or so. As she was passing her front door on her way to go pee, she was startled by a knock.
She glanced at the clock instinctively … 3:46pm. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Cassie opened the door with a smile to greet whomever the unexpected visitor was. The smile quickly fell away when she was struck by the stern look of her caller. Standing on her porch was a very serious looking woman in her early to mid forties. Cassie would’ve considered her pretty if not for the hair that was pulled back so severely it made her eyes turn up at the corners … giving her a vaguely Asian look though she was beyond a doubt Caucasian. She was dressed in an equally severe pants-suit with paten leather shoes and a white blouse peeking from beneath her sport coat. She clutched a manila envelope in her manicured hand so tightly that her knuckles were bone-white.
"Can I help you?," Cassie asked as pleasantly as possible.
The woman took a deep breath and her rather large bosoms pressed tightly against the silk blouse.
"Are you Sandra?"
Cassie was dumbstruck. Her face flooded with blood and for a moment she felt like she was about to pass out. "I’m sorry, you must have the wrong apartment … " Cassie stuttered as she began to shut the door. The stern woman’s foot shot out, preventing the door from closing.
"You are, aren’t you?" the woman barked.
"I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about … now if you’d excuse me ma’am … "
"Do you have any idea who I am … no of course you wouldn’t. My name is Elaine Marshal and you and I have some things to discuss, young lady."
Cassie felt as if her heart were about to pop out of her mouth and land on the floor. Elaine Marshal! Marshal! It was Bill’s fucking wife! She’s come here to kill me or something, Cassie’s mind raved.
"May I come in, please?" The woman managed to say please like "fuck you, Charlie".
"I don’t see what we have to discuss …"
"I can either discuss it with you or the police … the choice is yours."
"The police … what the hell is that supposed to mean!? I haven’t done anything wrong, lady. If you have a problem with what your husband does, take it up with him."
"What are talking about, my husband’s been dead for five years … I’m talking about my son, Billy!"
"Yes, my fifteen year old son, you horrible tramp!"
For the second time Cassie’s heart did a flip. "Your son … fifteen … " Cassie stammered.
"Now are you going to let me in or do I have to call the poli…"
Cassie stepped aside so quickly she almost fell, allowing the furious woman access to her modest apartment.
"Thank you," she hissed. Elaine Marshal strode into Cassie’s as if she owned the place. Cassie closed the door and leaned back on it trying to pull herself together. Elaine spun around to face Cassie and tore something from the manila envelope. "I assume these belong to you?" Cassie saw that the woman held a pair of sweat socks in a zip lock bag. She could see her own sweaty toe imprints on the socks and her knees grew weak with fear. "Yes, of course they do … I found them in my son’s room along with a stack of letters, receipts and e-mails. You disgust me!"
Cassie dodged as the woman threw the baggie at her.
"What kind of a woman exploits a young boy with promises of sex and … and … those," she pointed with obvious disgust at the baggie now laying a few feet away. "I got a whiff of those nasty things when I opened the bag. You actually charge my son money to smell your horrid feet. You fucking whore! He’s just a little boy for God’s sake! You should be ashamed! Are you? Are you ashamed?"
Cassie couldn’t answer. Things were way too out of hand … she barely knew what was going on.
"I added all of his receipts up … or yes indeedy … in the last three years he has given you almost $1000 in money orders for your "services". Have you been having sex with my baby, too?!!!"
"God no …" Cassie managed to squeak.
"You’ve extorted over $1000 from my baby boy for him to smell your stinking feet?! What kind of a woman are you?! Do you have any idea where this money is coming from … well I’ll tell you … he’s been selling his late father’s coin collection! Do you hear me?! I don’t know what you did to my boy, but I can’t see how smelling your rancid foot odor can be more important than the memory of his dear father. You realize you can go to jail for this?!"
"No … how … wha … wait a minute … I didn’t know!"
"Oh, you didn’t know. Well all is forgiven then isn’t it. I guess I should be going then!"
"Honestly … I didn’t know he was just a kid!"
"Bullshit. You knew … you had to have known. You’re some sicko pedophile who’s taking advantage of my baby … steeling his money … MAKING HIM PAY TO SMELL YOUR LOATHSOME FEET!" The woman’s hand flew through the air leaving a red welt on Cassie’s cheek. Cassie shook her head to clear the spots now dancing in her vision and tasted blood. The crazy woman was now tearing up as she ranted. "You’ve made my baby pay to smell your feet … made him pay to degrade himself and humiliate himself … to smell your feet?"
"Its not like that … plenty of people pay for it …"
"I see … so you’re victimizing more than just Billy … stealing from other innocent little boys?"
"No .. its not like that … I told you!" Cassie was desperate now. Her eyes were wide and tearing. Her breath came in short sharp gasps. "I think … you’d … better go! Please leave."
"That’s right, little missy, I’m not going anywhere until I get some kind of retribution from what you have forced my baby to suffer."
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
"I said I’m not moving! I want that money!"
Cassie finally snapped and grabbed hold of the woman. It was as if this Elaine Marshal were waiting for just such an occasion. She reacted with obviously preplanned speed. Her hand entangled itself in Cassie’s hair, braking the rubber band holding her hair back. With a yank the woman pulled Cassie to the side and they both tumbled into the living room. Cassie thrashed about in a titanic attempt to free herself from the woman’s grasp but only succeed in knocking them both onto the carpeted floor. The enraged mother outsized Cassie and was soon gripping her in a painful bear hug. The next thing Cassie felt was a wad of damp cloth pressed over her nose and mouth. Pungent fumes filled her nose leaving a chemical taste on her tongue. Her vision began to swim and she heard the woman’s laughter as if from a great distance. Cassie’s last sensation was of her own eye lids fluttering uncontrollably and her breathing feeling labored and painful … her chest tight and burning. Then all was darkness.
Cassie’s consciousness slowly climbed from its stupor. Her body felt weak and her limbs heavy. Her eyes at first refused to open, but then slowly, the lethargic lids fluttered and opened upon the scene of a nightmare. Cassie was bound spread-eagled on her own bed. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the bed frame with what felt like soft, nylon cord. A strip of thick tape sealed her mouth and the only air she could get was through her stinging nostrils. The taste of whatever chemical the woman had on that cloth still filled Cassie’s mouth along with the faint taste of blood from the vicious slap. As Cassie became more aware, she realized she was nude as well. The next thing that amazed her was the fact that her bladder had not relaxed whilst she was unconscious. For that she was thankful … but she still had to go! It was now almost painful in fact.
"So, the whore finally awakens. How are you feeling? I hadn’t expected you to go out so easily."
Cassie’s eyes rolled until she could see the hateful woman standing in the doorway. She appeared calmer than before … almost sinister in her composure.
"I’m a dental assistant if you were wondering your pretty little head where I could get Chloroform."
Cassie struggled on the bed. Being that her legs were spread it took an excruciating effort to hold back the urine that wanted to come out. She’d rather die than humiliate herself by peeing in her own bed in front of the horrid woman.
"I wouldn’t bother, little miss, you aren’t going anywhere. You and I have some things to work out. As I see it, you owe my son exactly $985.00. Are you prepared to pay?"
Cassie’s mind filled with rage. She adamantly shook her head.
"No? Well, that’s rather unfortunate. I guess I’ll have to convince you," the woman took a seat on the bed next to Cassie, "I took the liberty of searching your purse, but unfortunately it only contained $150 in small bills. Hardly enough to cover you debt." Cassie watched as the woman scattered the contents of the billfold over the bed. Five’s, ten’s, twenty’s and one’s fluttered here and there, some coming to rest on Cassie’s breasts and stomach. "Since you are unwilling to be agreeable you leave me no choice but to take drastic measures," the woman laughed almost bashfully, "though I had actually hoped it would come to this since I think you deserve it!"
The wretched woman then placed her feet up on the bed. She pulled both leather shoes from her feet showing them to be bare and sockless beneath. Cassie could see that her feet were rather large and appeared extremely sweaty. There were angry red welts where her the shoes had bitten into the skin and bits of foot gunk clung to various crevices. The smell hit her almost immediately. It was a cloying, horrible foot smell. The woman flexed her bare toes still starring at Cassie. Without a word, she spun on the bed and pressed her soles over Cassie’s face. The flesh of the woman’s feet was hot and sticky. They rubbed until Cassie’s nose was settled in the valley beneath the pungent toes. The woman remained perfectly silent as she forced Cassie to smell her stinky feet.
The woman kept her feet perfectly still and lightly resting on Cassie’s face. There was no need to move them about, the sharp and sour reek of the feet filled her nostrils and did the work all on its own. Cassie sniffed and sniffed and there seemed to be no end. She thrashed on the bed, pulling at her bindings until she was utterly exhausted. Eventually she was too tired to fight. The woman’s foot stink was allowed to have its way with her nose.
Cassie couldn’t believe she was being forced to smell this woman’s feet. She was too disgusted to have the time to be afraid. The smell was too unbearable for coherent thought. All she could do was sniff … and suffer. It was humiliating beyond belief! Finally after some time passed the woman spoke, "There … do you like smelling my feet, little miss? Do you want to keep going for a bit? I haven’t washed them since I decided how I would deal with you. Golly, I guess that’s been about three or four days now. Then for a finishing touch, I wore my smelliest shoes without socks and walked the last three blocks to your apartment in this lovely weather we’re having. They’re very sweaty and slimy aren’t they. Kinda smell like sour corn chips and vinegar don’t they? Oh, I know, little missy … they’re nastier than that, aren’t they? But you do like smelling them don’t you? No? Oh, is that a little tear I see? They’re not making your eyes water are they? They can’t smell that bad can they? Oh, I’m just teasing you … of course they do. I know they do. Yes, I know, sweetie, it must be horrible for you. How much would you be willing to pay for some fresh air?"
Cassie gagged and tried anew to dislodge the foul feet from her face but to no avail.
"Don’t fight it now … just smell them. That’s it … gooood girl …" The woman began to rub her feet up and down Cassie’s face, embedding their potent stink into her skin. "Are you ready to pay what you owe, yet?"
Again Cassie shook her head. She knew she couldn’t take much more. A few times she had almost vomited behind the tape which would have spelled trouble in a big way. Now she knew what it was really like to sniff feet and she was in hell. Even more so now than ever before, she couldn’t understand why those men had wanted to smell her socks and hose. Of course her feet had never smelled this horrendous. Unable to help herself, Cassie reasoned that this women could make a fortune on the internet with these rank feet of hers. But in the end, as much as she was suffering and as deeply as she was humiliated, she wasn’t about to part with her money!
"I can see we are at an impasse, little miss. Since money means so much to you, I’ve decided you can keep what’s here on the bed." The feet stayed on Cassie’s face, but she felt the woman shift on the bed and begin to gather up the loose cash. "Here you go my dear …" Cassie yelled beneath the tape as her eyes bugged from her head. She felt the woman’s thick fingers pushing into her rectum, spreading her sphincter. Cassie then heard the sound of crinkling money and the next she knew the woman was stuffing bills up her asshole. The woman’s fingers slid in and out of Cassie’s rectum, busily stuffing money in. As her ass was filled, the woman thrust her fingers deeper, packing the money in to make room for more. Cassie’s sniffs were now coming in short hard bursts, pulling in even more of the wretched foot stink.
"You like that … you like all that sexy money up there," for some bizarre reason the woman tapped Cassie’s clit with her thumb, rubbed it a bit and resumed stuffing money. The sudden attention to her clit sent what felt like a shock of electricity through Cassie’s body. The woman then spit on Cassie’s anus and the fingers probed more freely now … the money was stuffed in at a more efficient rate until it was now completely gone.
"Now, little missy, you really do have a $150.00 ass. How does it feel? Oh you must really like it don’t you? You like having all that wonderful money in your hinny while you smell my lovely feet? Don’t lie … I can see your pussy is all wet."
Cassie screamed beneath the tape. The woman accusing her of becoming aroused was the final insult. Cassie began to twist and writhe with uncontrolled rage. How dare she! Cassie thought. It was enough that she would humiliate and torture me for whatever crazy reasons she thinks she has … but then to insinuate that I’m some kind of a fucking dike or turned on by her nasty, filthy feet! Its unbearable!
Elaine noted Cassie’s violent reaction to her implied accusation. She now saw a new angle of humiliation and torture. Elaine knew that she would get the money back as well as the satisfaction of seeing the little trollop beg.
"Mmmm," Elaine said dramatically, "I bet you’d like a little bit of a lick on that tasty looking pussy." Just the thought was revolting to Elaine, but watching the way the whore reacted was priceless. Elaine continued to make comments, but soon realized that in order to truly humiliate the wretched girl she had to get more physical. In Elaine’s mind, this bitch had raped the innocence of her only son. There was nothing more appropriate than she be raped in return. Steeling all of her courage, Elaine leaned forward and buried her face in the girl’s vagina.
The musky smell of the girl’s sex almost made Elaine gag. The taste was also something that made her doubt her fortitude of will. She pushed herself and began to lick emphatically … forcing herself to make groaning sounds of pleasure. She began to smile uncontrollably when the bitch started to scream. Elaine thrust three fingers knuckle deep into the know sopping snatch for good measure. She began to pump the fingers in and out as she licked and sucked on the now swollen lips and clitoris.
Cassie had thought the feet unbearable … then the pain of her anus invaded by probing fingers and waded bills … yet they seemed nothing compared to the trauma of the violation the hateful woman was committing upon her. The fingers pushing inward made her flesh writhe and her muscles stiffen. The snake like tongue probing her pussy threatened to unhinge her sanity. The absolute worst part of the ordeal was the fact that her body was betraying her and responding to the woman’s ministrations. One hand her mind was revolted and furious beyond rational thought, yet her pussy had begun to gush and Cassie could feel her face flushing with something other than anger. Cassie knew she had to stop this and stop it soon before she lost her mind!
The solution occurred to her almost immediately. Cassie had been so upset that the dull ache in her bladder had taken backseat to the multitude of demeaning abuse she had suffered. Cassie finally relaxed the taxed muscles in her abdomen and let nature do the rest. Cassie couldn’t have held back the laughter that bubbled out of her even if she had wanted to. It came out as a nasal whiny through her nostrils.
The golden stream of piss buffeted the woman’s face with surprising force. A fine mist spattered back, lightly showering Cassie’s inner thighs and stomach. The bellow of surprise and rage that followed brought a new fit of guffaws from Cassie. The filthy feet immediately left her face giving her a full view of the yellow arch shooting from between her legs. Cassie lifted her ass from the bed as best she could, baring down with all her might to aim the stream at the woman trying desperately to get off the bed. The woman’s face and hair were soaked with urine as was the left hip of her gray slacks. The last few squirts nailed her ass and soaked into the fabric of her pants as she bounded from the bed. She stood as far from Cassie as she could, her face a mask of red rage. She sputtered incoherent obscenities as she finally ran from the room. Cassie heard her fumbling in the bathroom. The sound of breaking glass rang out. Cassie continued her snorting laughter as she lay in the dampness of her own urine.
Moments passed and Cassie wondered if the woman had left. She felt a brief pang of panic until she remembered the cleaning lady was due in that afternoon. At least someone would be able to untie her. The shame of being found naked, covered in pee and bound to a bed with her face reeking of feet was a far better fate than starving to death. Cassie’s hopes were dashed as the woman again entered the bedroom with a look of grim determination on her face. Cassie didn’t like the look one bit. The feeling of triumph quickly faded. She was still at the mercy of the crazy woman … and now she was even more angry than before if that were possible.
Without saying a word, the woman climbed back onto the bed. Cassie’s eyes showed their whites when she saw the woman was nude from the waist down. Still in grim silence the woman stood above Cassie, balancing on the cushy bedding. Cassie’s eyes trailed the now exposed extremities: the furry bush, the wide hips and the legs that appeared to have at one time been quite shapely but were now on their way to middle age flabby. After a moment of glaring down at her with utter hatred, the woman turned and began to squat over Cassie’s face. Her nose instantly sniffed out the tendrils of anal aroma as the woman’s ass descended, filling her vision.
Cassie thought for sure that in a second or two her nose would be buried in that pungent anus, but before the broad ass cheeks made contact a hot stream of piss shot from between the woman’s spread thighs. The steamy urine pattered on Cassie’s bare breasts and then traveled into the hollow of her neck as the woman repositioned herself. Another shift and her face was bathed in the aromatic urine. Cassie tried to turn her face away. Her ear was instantly filled and the continuing stream took on a distant, bassy sound. She could now hear the woman cackling as she pissed all over Cassie’s face.
Only a couple of seconds had passed, yet Cassie was already drenched. She felt a hand fumbling at the tap on her mouth and then tearing it away. Cassie tried to scream for help, but the spurting vagina smashed over her mouth before she could utter a word. Her mouth instantly filled with the bitter fluid and Cassie was forced to swallow to avoid choking. The vagina ground roughly on her face as it spit its last few squirts of pee. Cassie’s nose did jam into the anus at this point. Though brief, she was till assaulted by its dank, nutty scent.
Whilst still coughing and sputtering, Cassie felt her mouth roughly rubbed of dampness by a towel or clothe. The urine was still stinging her eyes and she was unable to see the new strip of tape that soon sealed her mouth again. Still trying to get a hold of herself, Cassie heard a malevolent whisper in her ear.
"You like that your fucking whore? There’s much more where that came from. I’ve got all night." This of course was a lie. Bill was waiting in the car. She’d already been here thirty minutes or so. He did have his GameBoy, but it wouldn’t occupy him forever. After all, he knew she was here to confront the woman he had deified in the last three years. He wouldn’t wait forever.
"Beneath your right hand is your check book. I have a pen here for you too. I’ve already made the check out … all you need to do is sign it. Thing can get much worse for you."
Cassie was broken. She knew it in her heart. This woman had won. There wasn’t much more she could take. Her imagination ran rampant thinking of other tortures the woman could inflict. Cassie began to realize that if the woman left now, Cassie could consider herself lucky. Not even thinking about how much the check might be for, Cassie scrawled her name.
Elaine guided the girl’s hand, unwilling to untie it in order for her to sign the check. She compared the signature to the back of the girl’s bank card and noticed for the first time that her name was in fact Cassandra Fleming and not "Sandra". Deceitful little bitch from start to finish, she mused. The signature was sloppy but was accurate enough. She knew she would have to cash the check this afternoon to prevent the girl from canceling it. Now that she had the money she felt reasonably satisfied. The girl was a mess and you could see the humiliation and fear written all over her pee drenched face. It would have to do.
Without another word, Elaine turned and walked briskly from the room caring the check and her shoes in one hand. Cassie watched her bare ass jiggle as she left. After a few more moments, in which the woman was presumably putting her pee dampened pants back on, Cassie heard the front door shut. She closed her eyes and wept silently. She could still smell the rank odor of the woman’s feet on her face and feel the cold trickles of urine running down her forehead from her soaked hairline. All of this because she hadn’t considered giving out her home address three years ago. Cassie might have laughed if she hadn’t been so drained. One thing was for sure … she’d never look at a pair of women’s feet in quite the same way again.
Bill was damn near ready to bust his nut. His cock was sore from his fevered masturbating. He hadn’t seen everything, but he caught most of the action through the partially opened blinds to Lady Sandra’s bedroom. Lucky for him the windows on this side of the townhouse where obscured by a fence and a bush. It was private enough for him to whip out his cock.
He’d had mixed emotions at first. Watching his mother humiliate the woman who had figured so prominently in his thoughts over the past three years or so was hard. After a bit though, he began to enjoy it. Bill always knew his mother got what she wanted. She was obviously superior and in a different league than Lady Sandra. Bill knew his mother’s feet could get really rank, so he had a pretty good idea of what Lady Sandra was experiencing. The fact that she was obviously not enjoying it was the moment when Bill’s mind changed about her. She was a liar. That was pretty plain to Bill.
When that bitch had pissed on his mother’s face, Bill had choked back a shout of rage, but when his mother reappeared and returned the favor, it was all Bill could do not to burst out laughing. That was the moment he had really abused his throbbing cock. The look of malicious glee and superiority on his mother’s face as she ground her piss spurting vagina on Lady Sandra’s mouth was a spectacle to behold.
His cock still painfully erect, Bill slipped into the apartment as soon as his mother stormed out the door. He knew she would be furious when she found he was not in the SUV, but he had to do something first. Running through the house, he burst into the bedroom. The stink of his mother’s feet still hung in the room as well as the acrid scent of urine. Though the later was just a hint.
Without even bothering to talk to the lying bitch tied to the bed, Bill hurried to her feet and pulled out his cock. The first sniff was sheer bliss. These were the glorious feet. These were the feet he had dreamed about for three years now. They were perfect, they were beautiful and best of all they stunk. It didn’t matter at the moment that they were attached to a woman that had broken his heart. The stink was enough to make up for that. Spitting in his hand, Bill once again set to his cock with gusto. He sniffed every part of the foot there was to sniff, occasionally glancing up to see the terrified eyes of the girl who was Lady Sandra. How could he ever have loved such a pitiful girl?
Jumping on the bed, grinning ear to ear, Bill jammed his cock in her pussy and fucked her as hard as he could. He stuck out his tongue and licked the tears that leaked from her eyes … eye that were set with a pleading, pitiful look. He laughed heartily at the small whimpering sounds coming from behind the tape. The smell of his mother’s urine was stronger by the girl’s head, but it didn’t stop Bill.
"All lying, dirty girls get fucked in the butt!" Bill declare. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but in his opinion it should be. With a thrust, he buried his rather sizable cock up her asshole. He felt the dollar bills still in there and packed them deeper with each pound of his hips. He wanted badly to untie her legs so he could smell her feet at the same time, but he was afraid she would somehow get away. Pausing, he pulled a baggie from the back pocket of his baggy jeans. IN the zip-lock bag was a pair of the latest stinky socks from Lady Sandra. They were the only ones salvaged from his mothers search. Tearing into the bag, Bill laid the sock’s over the girl’s face, buried his nose in them and resumed his rape of her asshole. Their stink was heavenly … as was her new sobs as a result of smelling her own foot stink while having a nice cock up her ass.
It didn’t take Bill long to finish. This had been his first piece of ass after all and it had been damn good at that. When he finally left Cassie, her face was bathed with pearly ropes of his semen. Busting a nut on her face was the best part of the whole thing. "Take that bitch!" he had yelled in triumph at the moment of climax. Bill left her there, stinking of his mother’s feet and piss and covered in his cum. She’d gotten what she deserved all right. She’d gotten it in spades.
When Bill got back to the SUV, he saw his mother peering over the steering wheel. Her face was like a storm cloud as he climbed in. After hearing his inane excuse of going to look for her and getting lost, she assured him he was "in for it" when they got home. Though in Bill’s opinion, if the punishment was anything like that he'd just witnessed, he wasn’t concerned, in fact he would look forward to it. Bill grinned devilishly as his mother sped off for home and whatever punishment awaited him there ... he was hard as a rock ...