(This is all backstory. If you want to start playing, click "One Month Later" below)
It was incredible how quickly it all happened. A few weeks ago I was just easing into summer break. A sophomore in college, ready to spend some time having fun, and of course indulging my love of feet and tickling with any girl I could find. But then came the woman. A strange lady with a voluptuous body, strolling into town, turning heads everywhere she went. And then the next day came another. And another. Pretty soon they were everywhere, chatting up the local gents at the bar, starting friendships with their wives; it seemed like nothing more than a few friendly tourists passing through town.
But a few days later came the first disappearance.
A town councilman never came home one evening. The local news put out as much information as they could, but as the days drew on, and nothing came of it, suspicion fell onto these travelers, who, as the women of the town gossiped, had started to wear out their welcome.
But by then, it was already too late. The first officers who tried to seek help in neighboring towns were stopped with newly-built checkpoints on the edge of town, all staffed by these women. As the news reached the city, murmurs turned to panic, as families tried to find a way out. But hordes upon hordes of them, enchantingly beautiful, began to descend on the town. Police did what they could, but they were quickly subdued. The mayor’s office fell soon after, as they made their way into the square. My town was being occupied.
What happened next changed everything. News channels, which had kept up their broadcast for as long as they could, cut to a view of town square. In the center, flanked on either side by the invaders, was one wearing a long, silk dress and a set of shiny heels. The picture of opulence. She stood at the podium and began her address:
“Good evening, citizens of my fair city.” She said, “My sisters and I have assumed control of this town, and we’re going to be making a few changes. But, oh, where are my manners. I am Miss Amira, and I have taken on the responsibility of being your new mayor. It’s nothing to be alarmed about. We want only to lead you into a better future, under our rule.”
The camera began to zoom out. Directly in front of this assembly, tied to a series of stretchers, were several men. They had left the hats on the officers, to make sure the crowd knew who they were. Among them I picked out the face of the missing councilman.
"These are some of the men who have tried to stand against us. And we haven’t harmed a hair on their heads!” Amira had a smug grin. “In fact, we have a very special way of treating our little boys. Care for a demonstration?”
The rows of girls descended from the stage, and took their seats right next to their captives. The men looked on in fear, staring up at the giggly grins that lay right above them. But their struggling immediately went to seizing as the women lifted their legs and held their bare feet right on top of their captives. Even from my television screen I felt hypnotized by the sight, a feeling I would soon become well-acquainted with. Amira raised a manicured hand and snapped her fingers. Down went the pairs of feet all over the men, an army of smooth arches slid up their chests while toe pads drummed on their lips. A moan came from one of the officers, and a set of toes quickly filled his open mouth. His tongue lathered the digits as the woman tending to him started chuckling.
“Our feet are our strongest weapons. You will find you cannot resist them, and this is okay! Your men are merely acting the way they should in the presence of such immaculate anatomy.” Over her voice, I heard the moans of the captured, and the luscious giggles of the women. Their voices were sweet, but with a commanding tone. Like my mind was being wrapped up tight in the softest silk.
“Now, don’t worry ladies, we have no intention of taking away your husbands and sons. You must merely learn it is their duty, as it is your own, to worship at our feet.”
The pale, smooth curves of those soles were all I could think of. Some of them were pudgy with wiggly toes. Others slender and refined, with a gentle curve in the instep. But all of them were beautiful. As the camera zoomed out, the sounds of girly giggles flooded my room. The onslaught of soles pleasured the men, gliding down, towards where their captives’ excitement rose to meet the inevitable. I couldn’t look away.
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