Kayla's Foot Diary #10 - Entries 85-104

*This entry has been completely updated and re-worked. Is this the end of Kayla's foot adventures...?*

Previously: Foot Diary #9 - Affair with Paul. Kickboxing Tournament. Breaking Stupid Boys. Paul Divorced?  

Entry 85: 5th March 2004

Dear Diary,

Well, that was quite the evening with Paul. No, unfortunately not because he fucked my brains out, which he used to. That side of things was kinda tragic, again. I was on top of him, which has become our default go-to, when it's not foot-related at least. Anyway, after literally twenty seconds, he was spasming and exploding, even before he'd taken his jeans and boxers off...

I had to confront it. So I started off being gently, asking if premature ejaculation had been an issue for him before. Was it stress-related? Everything with the divorce and Veronica distracting him? The way he recoiled was predictable, yet he then attempted to laugh it off as nothing, until I bluntly told him this had been happening for weeks now.

"I'm not being harsh, Paul. I just need to be, you know, satisfied..." I folded my arms, crossed my legs at the ankles, still wearing a white vest top, my black frilly knickers at least weren't covered in his explosion - one positive!

That was enough to break him. Slumping down onto his knees at the end of the bed, Paul began crying while clutching my bare feet. Like, actual crying. Tears trickled down his face, onto his beard, as he apologised for being so useless. He was failing at work, he was going to lose everything - and more - to Veronica, he wasn't good enough for me...

At that point, he whimpered, while showering my feet with kisses, apologising over and over, saliva and tears dampening my toes and soles, which wasn't totally unpleasant. Still, it was tragic, and there was more to come....

After several more minutes of debasing himself, with a few foot licks thrown in for good measure, he confided in me the worst of it. He's being investigated - Stewart Thompson has been made aware of 'irregularities', which means he will be checking each professor's full records, each paper, every nook and cranny.... He quickly assured me that I would be quite safe and not under any sort of scrutiny, in fact, he promised to do the next few essays for me. That, I appreciated - a focus on poetry, which I could do without, to be honest.

I sighed and patted him awkwardly on the head. It didn't mean to be patronising until I saw his expression - defeated but comforted by such a dismissive act. Hastily taking my hand away, I couldn't think of anything else to say. So I told him he could lick my feet for longer - at least he was able to satisfy them!

This was supposed to be reassuring but it just caused more whimpers - Paul looked both enamoured and self-disgusted as he meekly nodded and ravenously slathered his tongue all over my soles. While he did so, I considered my position. What if Stewart discovered the truth - about my assignments that Anthony had helped with, that Paul had changed the grades of, ones he would be doing for me... Would it be best to get out now? I mean, Paul does not offer anything, not anymore. At one point, I saw him as strong, exciting. Us together was like electricity, but now, as I watched him lick meekly away, he was about as much use to me as Steve (not that I've seen that loser recently, despite his attempts at messaging me on MSN).

Twenty minutes of contemplation was enough before I announced my departure; to be fair, I had kickboxing practice with April and I thought a half hour window with Paul would mean some sexual satisfaction. I lightly kicked his face away, not unkindly, as I skipped away and waved him a goodbye. He had left me to ponder more than his sexual inadequacies; I have a nasty feeling about the 'irregularities' that Stewart is looking into won't just go away. Then again, that could be just another University Professor that I break, ha! Joking... no seriously I am as I don't find that old git remotely attractive.

Paul has messaged a few times since, apologising again, accepting that he will try these 'long-time' condoms that he's heard of, that he will try harder and do better to please me. Are things going to actually get better, or is he just another broken foot boy? We'll see!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 86: 13th March 2004

Dear Diary,

Money is becoming a serious issue. I could only let April get so many rounds of drinks, or promise Angel I'd buy the next coffee in town, once the next term's student loan goes through. But everything has been sorted, thanks to Anthony...

My former foot pet/coursework bitch has been quiet lately, but he really pissed me off after a meeting with Stewart the other day. He gathered the first year English Lit students to announce that there were investigations into "foul play" going on, which I couldn't help notice Amy and Janki exchange a grin at. Stewart actually singled out Anthony as a "model student", who had proven himself consistent - in both essay style, grade, narrative voice and basically completely free from any sort of questioning, which was the case for most of us. What really bugged me was the public praise Anthony got, along with Amy and Janki, who apparently had also been "standout students", the three of them granted a paid, study assistant role, due to their impeccably high grades and positive contributions to every seminar, as well as being the two that Anthony himself had nominated. I was fuming, yet my efforts had tailed off, especially since Christmas. Still my grade average must have been higher, overall? Then again, the last couple were 'only' in the 70s.... I had let the ball drop, basically. Still, the dork should have recommended ME!

I watched the three of them leave, Amy and Janki each linking an arm with him and brushing past me as they babbled about celebratory cappuccinos and how the new role they had earned equated to £20 an hour. For an hour each weekday - of basically studying together. Fucking hell! That money should be MINE. Yes, yes - I had taken advantage of Anthony, gotten favours from Paul but I was the NUMBER ONE student, not him, not them! And he had nominated THOSE TWO?!

So, it was logical what I did next, later that afternoon....

"Well, if it isn't the number one English Lit student..." I drawled, already barefoot as I knocked on Anthony's door and barged in. I didn't even consider whether he had company or not. Of course, he didn't.

"K-Kayla... I, I've been meaning to..." He gulped as his eyes darted greedily downwards at my feet. "It was rather unfortunate, the um, the, situation, Stewart's declaration...."

His words trailed away as I tossed my socks on the floor in front of where he stood. I had gone for a run with Angel that afternoon for an hour, so they were certainly soggy and vinegary-smelling.

"You screwed me over, Anthony. You could have nominated me, not those two idiots. I would have rewarded you, very well." With that I smirked as I stood on tiptoes, and twirled around, showing off my shapely arches and silky smooth soles. Anthony was practically drooling.

"So I thought what would be fairest. And I have decided that you can buy my socks...." The dork actually closed his eyes, in some sort of conflicted trance. Before he could weakly agree, I added. "Every single week..."

"Every....? But I... that will be, err, seventy pounds per week?!" He gulped, not able to fully make eye contact with me.

I shook my head and raised an eyebrow. "No, loser. That was last time and before you screwed me over. It will be £100 a week...." I pretended to be calculating as I cocked my head to the side. "Hang on, how much is that brand shiny new "Study Buddy" job getting you?"

"It's... it's..." He sighed in defeat. "£100 each week.... Kayla, please - I really need that money... I've been running so low and hardly ever go out... I, please don't take it...."

I had no qualms in destroying his plans. It was fair, it was right. I told him firmly that he would now be paying me that PLUS £20 more for not agreeing immediately and being grateful. He should feel privileged to get a freshly sweaty pair of my workout socks. If money were an issue, he'd have to get a proper part-time job, not just sitting around studying with Amy and Janki. I stood imperiously over him as he dropped to his knees.

Of course the dork agreed, looking totally defeated and probably rueing the fact that he didn't submit instantly, like he should have. He had gone from this lucky little nothing job, to being at a loss, financially speaking. I smirked as he picked up my dirty socks and thanked me. Staring down at him with disdain, I told him that if he kept up his end of the bargain, he would be allowed a kiss on each of my bare feet, after every four payments. Hilariously, he let out a small "Oh!" at this, which made me chuckle. I left him, guessing that within moments he'd probably be jacking off to my sweaty socks, even though I'd so easily blackmailed him without needing to make even a hint of a threat. I owned him; he was mine to use for whatever purpose, and that was enough!

It may not seem much, but to go from getting measly £1300 every single term, to getting £500 a month is a MASSIVE upgrade, more than doubling my income. I've got no doubts that it will work; what is Anthony going to do, tell on me?! Risk me telling everyone about his little perversions and the fact he was buying my socks?! Do I feel bad, do I feel like a prostitute? Nope! I feel like a sense of release, like the first time since last summer that I actually have money again! People like me should not have to work, or be scrimping and saving. Not anymore!

I just wish I had done this sooner! To be fair, it was only due to Anthony getting that bullshit cosy job that the idea would have ever come to me, as a regular thing. Even had I thought about it, I would never reasonably be able to get that sort of money from him. Before, selling my socks was a one-off, just to prove that he was so far beneath me - and for some handy cash at a time.

This was different. Fate had struck me a band hand but I've ended up smelling of roses. While he gets to smell stinky socks. It feels good to win!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 87: 17th March 2004


Dear Diary,

Kickboxing has been taking up a lot of time. And I relish every fucking second! I love it - especially as I have the frustrations of the ongoing 'investigations' to deal with. Stewart lectured us again about the need to be truthful, honest, virtuous etc. Though I had to keep a straight face when he began heralding what an upstanding student Anthony is. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Amy and Janki gushed, probably assuming he was just being modest. The pathetic dweeb - so easily manipulated!

Having extra money has helped. I even let Paul take me out for a drink, surprising him when I bought the first round in. I don't think I've ever done that before. Not that he needs to know about my little arrangement with Anthony, of course. It seemed to backfire a bit, as when his credit card failed to register (he'd forgotten he had to cancel it - the divorce is going through quickly and it is NOT looking good for him...), I paid for his next round too. Rather than being appreciative, he just seemed emasculated, providing shit conversation. I didn't even bother going back to his afterwards, which he looked forlorn about.

To be fair, I had a LOT more fun with Angel and her foot bitch. Yep, I can't help but swell with pride that Sam Pedant - he of the University First Football Team - has been reduced to meekly slathering at mine and Angel's feet. He is well and truly in his place - no fight, no swagger. It's funny with alpha guys like him. Once you have stripped away the confidence and the self-belief, there is so little left. There isn't any real intelligence or ability, just an empty shell. Like Ryan!

With Sam, it's also funny because Angel admits that she loves fucking him. What's also funny is that she never lets him orgasm - not until he is about to blow his load, at which point she forces him down and smothers his face with her feet, while she finishes him off with a hand job. Not that I witnessed this - Angel told me everything and Sam did not deny it! That was interesting as with Ryan I do NOT want anything sexual to happen; I don't want to witness him orgasm, ew!

My one-on-one sessions with Ryan are so cathartic in a different way - kicking him, knocking him down again and again. Today I let him go "all out" but that was just hopeless. I slapped him across the face a coupe of times, to try to get some anger in his belly, which kind of worked but still, he was so easy to block and parry. I allowed him to attack me for a full minute, only using one arm to block any punch or kick he threw my way. I couldn't help but laugh as he tried everything he had - none of it skilful, some of it clearly borrowed from my techniques, or April's. Either way, it was useless.

I yawned as I checked my watch to see the minute had been reached, then grinned as I stepped forward, hitting him first with a low kick to unbalance him, then a crisp roundhouse kick, square to his left cheek. Of course, he crashed to the ground, yelling out in pain, surrendering at once.

As I sat on his stomach, extending my bare feet over his face (I don't need sweaty socks for Anthony for at least a couple more days...) he dutifully licked them, expertly and thoroughly. Unlike Anthony or Steve, or even Paul, Ryan keeps an impassive expression; it's impossible to read him. Sometimes I catch a moment of disgust in his eyes, but that seems increasingly rare.

"You know, I think you're the perfect kickboxing bitch," I told him, stretching my arms and resting a bare foot against his cheek, the same one I had struck earlier, causing him to grunt in pain and twist his neck.

"Thank you...." He let out through ragged breaths.

I giggled. "I still wish Charlotte could see this...." I taunted him. "To think, you were dating the so-called hottest girl in our school, now look at you, licking the feet of a girl you thought was beneath you. Pretty humbling, isn't it?"

He swallowed thickly and let out a weak assent. I giggled again. Grinning down at him, I couldn't help but wonder.... it had been months now - had I done something similar that Angel had to Sam, in that he was no longer an alpha and doing this willingly? I had to leave at that point but I've been thinking about it since. Does he enjoy our sessions? Have I reduced him so he genuinely likes my feet? He shows no signs of it, but it's been something on my mind.

Love,
Kayla

Entry 88: 27th March 2004


Dear Diary,

£240 in two weeks from Anthony... collecting the money from him is always fun as I make sure to be barefoot and enjoy his eyes greedily lingering on my feet, knowing he doesn't have the balls to do anything about it. Too easy!

"Good boy," I told him, pocketing the cash and casually dropping my white ankle socks to the floor. I hadn't even done any specific exercise in them - they were just what I happened to wear yesterday. Yeah, I was already past making sure Anthony got the extra sweaty ones - though they'd been worn in for a good few hours. Enough foot scent for the loser to whack off to. "Two more weeks and remember, you'll get to kiss my bare feet..." I giggled at the freak closing his eyes in supposed bliss, probably getting a boner from just the thought. "Anyway, later, loser!"

Even if I wanted to give Anthony more of my time, I don't think I could. With between the training sessions in April's group, the one-on-ones with Ryan, seeing Paul - though that has dropped down to rarely, to be fair. But there's also socialising - pretty much April and Angel, though not together. Looking back on it, I'm happier with fewer people. I don't need a whole lot of people in my life.

I have let that loser Steve back in though. After weeks of him begging me on MSN, he actually came to my dorm, as he needed to help his sister move a new TV into her room. I watched this with interest in the hallway, while Cat practically gave me evils, making it clear to her brother that he was not to hang around afterwards. I didn't understand this animosity from her - she had found it amusing seeing her brother be my footrest - she'd even had a go herself, back in December!

Anyway.... Steve gave his sister an awkward hug goodbye, while she barely moved her arms, still clearly annoyed with him, practically slamming the door in his face. I walked over to him while he shuffled his feet nervously.

"First of all, what the fuck was that?" I spoke softly, stopping a couple of metres from him. "Why is your sister looking at me like I'm the devil? I thought she enjoyed seeing her pathetic older brother be my little foot rest?"

He winced but before he could speak, I cut him off. "Secondly, what is this? You pretending to be the benevolent big brother? Ha! I know it, and you know it that you're here for one thing...." He sighed and nodded slowly while I smirked. "Thought so. But let me make it clear, you don't have a say, don't have a choice. It's all on my terms. Got it, wimp?"

"Yes... Goddess Kayla," he murmured, keeping his voice quiet and scurrying after me into my room.

It wasn't planned. I was actually content to let things peter out, but seeing him, I just fancied messing with this foot freak. Reminding him of how inadequate and useless he was last time, I ordered him onto his knees, pulling out some duct tape so I could tie my oldest, stinkiest trainer around his face. It's funny with Steve. He's not bad looking and on the outside you'd think he was fairly 'normal' but he's definitely got the deepest kink for feet, more persistent and willing to debase himself than Anthony or Ross ever were.

To be fair to Steve, he didn't even try to resist this time. Not one iota. He also didn't show any signs of struggle when I taped his hands behind his back - not that this was necessary, it was just fun!

For the next half an hour, I took occasional glances at the kneeling form of Steve, taking deep steady breaths as he continually sucked in my shoe stench. I called out the odd word of encouragement, including how much time he had left.

"Five more minutes, slave. Then you can move on to the next stage..."

Steve practically quivered at this, revealing a noticeable bulge in his pants. Of course he had...

When the time was up, I untaped the shoe from him, but kept his hands firmly wrapped up together. He gratefully sucked in some oxygen, his breathing ragged. Nodding weakly at me, he thanked me. I smirked and told him I assumed he meant for the shoe, which he quickly agreed with.

In half an hour, I'd had plenty of time to decide Stage 2. This involved me taping one dirty sock over his mouth, one around his head, covering his eyes, and the other one lightly over the top of his nose, so he could still breathe, albeit it a stinky sock into his lungs. This was the "Sensory Experience", as I happily announced to him, remembering also to place some headphones over his ears as well, so he could really focus on his breathing.

It was a brilliant sight to behold - one I happily snapped a few photos of - a twenty-year-old man, on his knees before me, my socks covering his face so much that he looked like a socked-dummy-gimp. To be fair to him, he stayed firm and didn't topple over to the side, or show any obvious signs of discontent. Hilariously, he seemed to be rock hard the whole time - impressive that he could still get some blood rushing to other places! By the time the next half hour was up - during which I did a lovely bit of reading (Paul was working on my next assignment after all) - Steve's face was red and blotchy; his eyes were bloodshot; he looked totally exhausted; yet he was ready for more.

"Slave..." I stood over him, deciding on what to do next. I'd actually got so lost in the Sebastian Faulks book I was reading (The Girl at the Lion D'or) that I'd actually gone more like 35 minutes and had not planned what to do next. "You have almost earned the right to smell my bare feet..."

Steve let out a small moan at this, wincing immediately as we both knew this was a sign of dissent.

"And for that, it's back to the start...." I reached for my shoe and held it challengingly over his face. Swallowing whatever slithers of pride he still possessed, he weakly nodded and groaned a brief "Sorry Goddess Kayla.... Thank you Goddess Kayla..." he added, his voice servile.

That was the next hour - as he completed Stage 1 and Stage 2 again. I actually managed to finish my book in that time AND come up with Stage 3. By the time the second hour was nearly up, there was a knock on the door. Considering leaving him there for whoever to see, Cat's voice called out, which Steve was oblivious to, considering his hearing was muffled.

I considered letting her see this, but I relented. Taking off the headphones and whispering into his ear: "Don't make a sound, I need you to lie under my bed..." He merely nodded, did as he was told, while I pushed my duvet to the end and to the empty side, so he couldn't be seen. His hard-on at least seemed to have gone by now, a I kicked him accidentally in the groin, causing a small "oomph!" but managed to conceal him fully at least.

Ushering Cat in, she sat on my bed, just inches away from her brother and completely unbeknownst to his presence. Funnily enough, she apologised about how cold she was. Confiding in me, she explained that he used to be such a kind brother, always there for advice and was actually instrumental in her UCAS application, helping her get a place at Bournemouth. At first, she admitted it was kinda funny seeing him as my willing footstool, then felt ashamed about it. She can't take him seriously anymore and actually misses him - they used to message regularly on MSN, he used to actually want to spend time with her. But it's all changed.

We chatted about it, me using a bare foot to keep the duvet firmly in position. After a little while, she actually hugged me, thanking me for listening and apologising again.

"Sorry, Kayla. I actually thought he was pretending to help with my TV, just so he could try it on with you again! But to be fair, he obviously didn't hang around. Maybe he is trying to make it up to me. Anyway, thank you!" She bustled away, while I locked the door and flicked open the duvet, fixing Steve with a disappointed look.

"You are a really shit brother," I told him with disdain. "OK, you can show your true qualities now. Go and see your sister, show her that you really do care. Or you can move onto Stage 3..."

He actually hesitated but it was imperceptible enough for me to let him off. "Of course you do," I told him smugly while he nodded weakly. "OK, Stage 3 is.... you get to proclaim my love for my feet while TRYING to smell them...." I watched him wriggle out from under the bed and shuffle to the end of my bed, watching carefully to detect any dissent. "Phew... for a moment, I thought I'd have to send you back to Stage 1...."

Stage 3 was FUN! I started a new book (The Catcher in the Rye), eventually letting Steve's mantra wash all over me.

"I love your feet Goddess Kayla!"

"I love your feet Goddess Kayla!"

"I love your feet Goddess Kayla!"

Each of these declarations were followed with an almighty whiff, a good half-metre from his face, just close enough that he could catch a slight suggestion of my foot scent. They weren't really sweaty, but I hadn't showered yet today.

Again, I genuinely lost track of time, allowing him to continue his soft, yet clear devotions about my feet. This time I allowed it to spill over to nearly an hour. Then again, I had never specified a time, so I let the hour run up. Exquisitely, he actually continued to repeat the mantra a few more times, despite me telling him to stop. I had to firmly grip his jaw with my hand and shake it for him to finally cease.

"Now, you can move onto Stage 4. You may take a long, deep whiff of each of my bare soles..." I purred at him, while he licked his lips and let out a soft moan of pure desire.

After giving each of my soft, bare soles a lustful, grateful exhalation his body shuddered and pulsated as he pushed himself against the end of my bed, a gurgling noise escaping his lips. Had he... really?!

"Ew!" I yelled at him as he hung his head in shame, his jeans already forming a clear damp patch. "I didn't say you could... really? Just from smelling my feet?" I guess it put Pauls' premature problems in perspective!

"Please...Goddess Kayla..." He whined. "I couldn't help... Your feet are just... so heavenly, so perfect. I've been trying to control my, my erection... for hours... It's come and gone... but being that close at your feet....!"

I gave him a stern look. "Oh, I know that, slave. Don't waste your breath on telling me what I already know." He meekly apologised while I continued. "Clearly being at my actual feet is too much for you. Now get the fuck out of here..."

I didn't even care about if he managed to retreat without Cat knowing, especially with his soggy, sticky boxers, yuck! I continued to read my book - I devoured that it another hour or so and remembered I had a kickboxing session with April and the group. What was fun about the session with Steve was seeing someone so keen and eager to be at my feet. What started out as a bit of role-play had descended very quickly for him - there was no chit-chat or debriefs afterwards. He was nothing more than a slave to play with. With Ryan, it's always this neutral, hard-to-read, slightly subtle distaste, that he's got better at hiding. Steve clearly adores my feet!

Oh, that was the other interesting thing that happened. There were a few guys at kickboxing - tough, dangerous-looking blokes who seemed very pleased with themselves. Ryan hadn't noticed them, handing me my customary coffee, while they exchanged glances. They had signed up and April was powerless to stop them, as it is not her gym, just the class that she runs there. It seemed that having tough, confident women had put off some of the men there (apart from Ryan, obviously) but these guys had seen how well we had fared in the tournament and wanted to help develop us.

"You see," the tallest one announced arrogantly. "There's only so far you can get with the expertise you have. The three of us, we'll help take you to the next level. And bring some, well, some parity here."

"You mean because we're a bunch of girls?" Harriet asked bluntly. "No offence, Ryan."

I liked my former-rival and was glad she spoke up. One of the others shrugged and told us there were no restrictions on gender - that every kickboxing club should have both male and female representation. April gave me an apologetic look. In the training session, I noticed Ryan working with one of the guys, apparently impressing him and enjoying himself. I did NOT like that one bit! Another bloke was with a new girl, who was quite shy and he seemed to take great delight in bossing her around.

The worst bit was at the end of the session, the tall guy suggested a one-on-one spar. Before I could take him up on his offer to pummel him, he suggested Harriet have a go. It was an even battle for the first couple of minutes, and April looked to call it off but the arsehole suddenly pulled off a jumping back kick. None of us had practised that before, apart from me and April in our occasional extra sessions. Harriet crashed heavily to the ground, blood pouring from her mouth. The tall guy helped her up, but I could tell the prick was smirking. April was busy at the end of the session and Ryan went out for drinks with the guys (none of the girls agreed to). Something NEEDS to be done!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 89: 2nd April 2004


Dear Diary,

I cannot believe ANOTHER term has ended! I've been back at Mum's for a couple of days and already can't stand the fucking place. It's a horrible reminder that we don't have Ian's place and are cramped into this shithole. To be fair, Graham (yes, Mum is still seeing the slimy guy) has offered us to stay at his for a few days, especially with his eldest daughter away.

Term ended fine, though I received an email from Stewart Thompson, who wants a 'private meeting' with me at the end of April. That's obviously on my mind, though it can't be anything too serious, or it would have been more immediate, right? Anthony's pay days are on hold, while he's not doing his bullshit "Study Buddy" job, and while we're both away from Uni in the break. Means he has to wait longer to smell my feet though, poor little loser!

Speaking of losers, Steve has been sending me constant, adoring messages on MSN, retelling each of the Stages, in so much over-the-top detail. It was funny at first, him describing each individual smell from my old trainer and socks, but It's getting repetitive and I'm starting to regret the slow, deliberate torture I put him through - three hours of smelling my shoe and socks, just for ONE sniff of EACH foot, which then made him cum in his pants... no wonder he's a babbling wreck! Still, I don't like how needy he is.

April seems to be helpless in getting rid of the guys from our kickboxing club. I berated Ryan for going for drinks with them, though already a plan is forming. Him being in with them could be instrumental. I'm going to see him in the next few days - one good thing about living in this crappy house is that my kickboxing bitch is just a walk away from here. It's still bugging me that he's still not showing that level of obsession or need for my feet like the others - Ross, Ben, Anthony, Steve.... even Paul have shown.

Paul! Oh, I nearly forgot. I've kinda broken up with Paul. Sort of. He'd been talking a good game about these "long time" condoms so I was curious when we hooked up, in his little shack. He'd actually had to downsize (if that was even possible) to a studio flat. Now the divorce has officially gone through, he has 'reparation costs', which amounts to a good chunk of his salary. He's also been temporarily suspended by Stewart, as it is only his tutor groups that have shown the 'irregularities'.

I mean, it's not the best timing, I know. But this is how it happened...

In my customary position on top of him, I giggled at how hard he was, clearly besotted with me as he hungrily kissed me. Slipping on the condom, I was hopeful as I started nestling against him, feeling my groin begin to soften in all of the right places. Paul then surprised me by taking control and rolling us to the side until he was on top. He hadn't done that for a while, not since January. I liked it!

He removed my bra and begin kissing me all over the breasts and even gently caressed his tongue on my nipples, while I began to start feeling stimulated. He pulled himself downwards, which meant that his shaft was taken out of me, him no longer in the missionary position, but I didn't mind as he began lavishing kisses down my tummy, around my now-alert clitoris, and then down my thighs, eventually to my feet.

This sounds ungrateful but I really wanted him to fuck my whole world, not start to lap away at my bare soles and stay there. Yet, there is where he lingered, slavishly washing his tongue all over my arches and slurping on my big toe like he was giving me head. I tried to guide his hand towards my crotch but he was too absorbed. Frustrated, I began to play with myself - that was the only way I was apparently getting off - while he nodded his head up and down like a madman, still enthusiastically sucking away on the same big toe.

Then it all.... ended. With a little mewling noise, Paul shuddered forward and knocked his head on the end of the bed, crying out at the same time and falling to the side in a heap.

I leaned forward to see what had happened and of course, Paul had already blown his load. The so-called "long time" had barely been in me and without even any proper thrusting, he had ejaculated. It was pitiful, especially with him crumpled on the floor, his dick already softening and the condom peeling itself away.

Sitting at the end of the bed, I'd had enough. "This isn't working, Paul," I told him.

"I know.... the condom it was...supposed to... I'll try another brand... I'm sorry, let me try another one next time..." He whimpered, hastily using some tissue to clear himself up.

"No, THIS isn't working, Paul. You're a mess. You need some time - I think we both do. Let's just... leave things. I'm going back to my Mum's for the Easter break. Let's use that time to, you know, think things over..."

I started putting my bra and pants back on, while he desperately grabbed at one of my feet and began showering it with kisses. "Kayla, please, don' leave me...! My career, it's over, my divorce... Veronica fucking DESTROYED me! I'm paying her a fucking monthly allowance! She's got so much money, the house, all of these assets and I'm paying EXTRA?! You're all I have, please don't leave me!"

I watched him with pity, but I couldn't help but think how this man was broken, was worthless. It wasn't MY fault that everything had unfolded the way it did. I let him kiss my foot for a little longer, before firmly pushing him away, wincing at my force, which caused him to tumble over and end up flat on his back. It was metaphorical really.

"We'll talk, after Easter. Let's just... have this break. We need it." I didn't tell him what I really thought, that he was a shell of his former self, that he offered me nothing. Well, he had done several essays and they'd all got high, but not suspiciously high scores. He'd used what occasional time we'd had to get down all of my ideas - me talking, him writing, so he could make sure it was my writing style, not his. It is useful, I have to admit but is it worth it, to keep this farce going?

Deep down, I know it's over. Yet, a part of me does wish that he could just return to the smart, sexy and confident guy that I knew months ago.

Love,
Kayla

Entry 90: 12th April 2004


Dear Diary,

The holidays are seriously flying by. It's helped that the last few days have (admittedly) been very relaxed and dare I say it, luxurious, at Graham's. It was a no-brainer really. His house, not dissimilar to Ian's was, has plenty of space and it's just a relief really to get out of the crappy place. Mum is noticeably at ease too, which is so important to me. We've not talked much in recent months, which is fine as I have been so busy at Uni and she has with her new boyfriend, but we've enjoyed heading into town for coffee - Graham either driving us himself or paying for taxis. I've even contributed for things here and there, thanks to the Anthony money. The next 1300 quid comes into my account soon for Term 3, whoop!

Another interesting little project has been Abi. Graham's youngest daughter is cute as a button. But very easily bossed around. I felt it when he had dinner together in the Christmas break. The older one (Penny) has not been around and I soon figured it was her, not Abi, trying the whole Mean Girls thing. Abi has just turned eighteen and is starting Uni soon, so it was natural for Mum to encourage the inevitable girly-bonding. I soon realised that she was not just shy, but eager to please and easy to push around.

It started with little things like me suggesting what film to watch. Or what flavour of Ben and Jerry's we should get (Phish Food!). Abi didn't seem to mind and every time echoed happily that's what she wanted too. Although the girly bonding was forced, I enjoyed giving her tidbits of some conquests, edited to a degree, from Uni to her.

"You used her brother as a footrest?!" Abi giggled, blushing as I relayed the story of that time with Steve, causing more eruptions with laughter when I added how then Cat and Angel did the same thing to him too! Of course there was much more, but I didn't want to reveal too much, after all.

It was all quite harmless, me gradually bossing Abi around. She was happy to make me a coffee every time I asked, Graham even praising her for being so kind. A coffee here, a plate of watermelon there, doing some errands, like buying me a mint foot lotion when she was already in town. Abi just happily obliged.

She didn't even mind when I rested my feet in her lap, while we all watched an episode of Buffy together on DVD. I'd been getting Abi into it and she, liked me, enjoyed there being a strong, powerful female protagonist. Nor did she object to rubbing my feet, something Mum and Graham seemed oblivious to, while they snuggled (yuck, but if it makes Mum happy...).

I lazed around reading as Graham checked that we'd be OK doing all of the chores (unlike Ian, he DOES employ a maid, but she was on leave), which meant that Abi waited hand on foot on me, whilst cleaning the floors, taking out the garbage and hoovering. She was quite exhausted when she flopped next to me, a little startled when I requested that she paint my toenails. It was very natural, ordering around this very sweet but hopelessly passive girl. While she dutifully painted away, me telling her about how it's important to put guys in their place early on and establish being the boss. She was only a year younger me but we worlds apart as she nodded, wide-eyed and seemingly taking in every word.

Moving onto pedicures actually felt like a relief. Partly because it's been ages since I've had one and also because Abi is awesome at them. She blushed when I praised her and giggled as I casually mentioned that she can do this every time I stay with her.

I haven't done anything mean - Abi doesn't deserve that. I have sowed some seeds about her sister, Penny. They had one brief phone call (Penny is on holiday in Italy) but I could tell from Abi's awkwardness after she was loving getting to know me that Penny wasn't too impressed. Maybe had she been around, I wouldn't have so easily taken over Abi.

Last night, Graham and Mum didn't even comment while Abi gave me a thorough foot scrub and massage, dutifully kneading away while we watched several Buffys. Mum even remarked how wonderful it was we were all getting on so well, to which Graham looked insufferably smug about. Well, it's a good thing really, as Graham offered us to stay here for the rest of my Easter break, which Abi looked delighted with. I've been enjoying this pampering so much, I haven't really thought much about Paul, the kickboxing guys, the stuff with Stewart investigating me. It's been gradually massaged away like one of Abi's lovely foot rubs!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 91: 18th April 2004


Dear Diary,

The holidays are nearly over. Already?! I managed to tear myself away from my little pet Abi to visit Ryan.

Pummelling him felt good; I'd actually regressed a little and was feeling my muscle tone slacken. So to do a vigorous session felt like a release. Ryan, though, had proven to be a slightly better opponent when we sparred. This annoyed me as it was obviously since the guys joined that he'd picked up some tips. Still, it made it all the more satisfying when I had to work that little bit harder, to knock him firmly back down.

I couldn't help but ask him, which I was annoyed at myself for. It showed a neediness that I wasn't accustomed to anymore. "What do you think of my feet?" I asked him bluntly.

"They.. they, er, they're, like, fine..." He muttered, seemingly caught off guard to be asked a question.

That wasn't enough so I pushed him further, tapping my toes against his tongue, forcing him to tell me what they tasted of.

"Erm, like, a bit, er salty... and erm, well y'know they're just, er, feet..." This wasn't a stammering-Anthony-type, but an inarticulate caveman. He was never coherent yet he was showing zero gushing signs.

"You've licked them sooo many times. Surely you can't still hate this?" I gave him a look, which he hesitated at. Ryan has clearly got better at saying the 'right' thing but I could tell in his eyes that he did hate it, though he assured me that it wasn't so bad anymore.

I sulked, thinking things over, while he continued to lick along my arches. Then again, did I even want Ryan to enjoy this? Was it worth swallowing my ego, so that it meant Ryan's punishment was worse? Or was it a worse consequence to make him genuinely be into feet? It made me think of Theo - even after I had jerked him off with my feet in his face he did not show any signs of needing or wanting them.

After I left him, making sure (as usual) to step on his face as I left him, I gave a brief hello to his Mum and sisters before getting picked up by Graham. I laughed when he asked me if Ryan was my boyfriend. I didn't even like Ryan. No, the more I thought about, the better it is that he is forced to do something he doesn't want to do!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 92: 23rd April 2004


Dear Diary,

I got back to Bournemouth yesterday and went straight to kickboxing. April had been quiet yesterday and I could see why. Six guys there now, including Ryan, all of them chucking their weight around and being insufferably smug. April told me before that she was a strong feminist and did not see the point of men, other than using their seed if one wanted to procreate. I saw her point.

A couple of the guys had devised this challenge - all based around body punches. I noticed that we were a few girls down in the group, so that the guys were nearly outnumbering us. I'd been back in London for just a few weeks... how could this have happened?! Even Harriet seemed resigned, when she lost in the first round to a 'new guy'. I won all of my matches but we'd conveniently run out of time for me to take on the 'tall guy' (I now know his name is Ron). I just need to have a crack at him, to put him in his place and demonstrate to the others that girls rule this club, not these pricks!

Afterwards I insisted to catch up with April, forgoing my one-on-one with Ryan - who I then noticed slipping out with the guys, probably for drinks... Anyway, I've got a plan. It involves Ryan, it means raising some stakes and taking a risk but I'm confident that it'll work.

I got a text from Paul, asking to meet up and assuring me he'd 'cleared his head'. I relented and am catching up tomorrow. I'd actually bumped into Dylan after seeing April and had a nice chat with him. He had stayed in Bournemouth over the break (working part time for extra money) and we laughed about how self-important Amy and Janki were about their 'Study Buddy' job - getting paid 20 quid an hour to basically sit around and look at some books.

I teased him then. "You know Janki has a massive crush on you, don't you?" I grinned, enjoying him squirm.

"What!" He blurted out, going beetroot red. It was unusual to see him as anything other than cool. I goaded him, claiming that I'd struck a nerve and that he 'lurved' Janki. I've thought about since and although I don't want to date him (he'd end up annoying me too much), I'd hate to see Janki get her claws into him!

I have to admit how handsome he is. He's the only guy (other than those few months with Paul) that has challenged me on an emotional and intellectual level, AND is hot. But he's too pleased with himself, too self-assured. Then again, I've been without a real romantic interest for months now... No, probably best to leave things as they are. Still, as long as Janki doesn't get him!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 93: 29th April 2004


Dear Diary,

Well, that was an experience.

I met with Stewart yesterday. In the build up to it, I had spoken to Paul, who'd advised me just to be meek, mild and apparently shocked that people had been talking about cheating in tests and essays. If I'd assured him that I cared deeply about my work, he'd more than likely believe me.

Maybe I should have taken Paul's advice. When I saw the haughty expression on Stewart's face, that annoying wispy moustache, I decided to do things my way.

"So, Kayla, you're aware of why you are here. After various investigations, I've concluded that you seem to the common denominator.... You do understand the virtues of honesty, trust, don't you?"

I shrugged and watched his expression change to bewilderment as I casually lifted my legs and placed my bare feet on his desk, crossing them at the ankles. "I see it differently. I deliver - whether it be in debates, exams, essays. Whatever the subject. Sure, there are some I enjoy more than others. But this is about performance, right?"

He stared at my bare feet for a few seconds, before leaning back a little, giving me a look. "Please, remove your feet from my desk."

Crossing and re-crossing them, I sighed. "Oh, come on! Just accept that I am a force of nature, Stewart! I'm used to getting my own way and this is no different. I'll accept a quick apology from you, for having my integrity questioned..." A smile played on my lips as I decided to push it further. "I'll even let you kiss my feet. Just once though - then I'll be out of here and I'll forget about your little investigation." I fluttered my eyelashes and folded my arms, feeling confident.

Clearing his throat. "First of all, it is Professor, to you. Without a doubt, you are the most arrogant, undisciplined first year that I have ever had the misfortune to encounter in all of my years. It may work on other faculty members but it does NOT with me. And I said already, remove your damned feet. NOW!" He suddenly barked at me, causing me to involuntarily pull my legs back, while he nodded coldly at me.

"Professor... I...." I began, changing tack but he cut me off.

"Save it," He continued in a softer tone. "You're a piece of work, missy, and ultimately I cannot prove anything, but let's just say I will be personally reading each of your assignments VERY carefully from now on. I will be grading all of your papers and nothing would make me happier than to bring you down a peg or two." He adjusted his tie and nodded. "From an academic, personal-growth perspective, of course. Let me make this clear - this is an official warning. You'll receive an email to confirm this. You can go now."

I stood up, a little in shock as I ambled away.

"One last thing...." He called over to me. "If you put your feet on my desk, near my face or display such a flagrant disregard for authority EVER again, I will have you dismissed at once. That will be it for you at this University. Now be gone, you foolish child."

Foolish child....

The fucking prick! I'm actually annoyed with myself for not retaliating but I was genuinely taken aback to be spoken to like that. I've been thinking about how to get back at him since but maybe it is best to avoid throwing more fuel to the fire. I told Paul about it and he actually let out a full on groan when I mentioned resting my feet on Stewart's desk...

Things with Paul are... weird. One of the first things he admitted was that he knew he wasn't enough for me, sexually. So he's decided to approach things from a non-sexual perspective. Talking about Buffy, about politics, about books we've both read was warm and cosy. I did laugh and felt happy to be around him, but I kept thinking that it was like he was castrated. Or in chastity. One of the things he'd resolved was not to let his sexual desires dominate him but to show that he was a good boyfriend, and someone who could still make me happy.

He's also promised to help with my essays, assignments - in his words it's 'an honour' to work with me on them. I've agreed to that; it means I can basically lie back and say my thoughts aloud, while he scribbles them down, types them up, tidies things, adds in the references and all of the boring bits. At the same time, nothing too amazing, so it doesn't cause extra suspicion from Stewart. Paul hates him so he sees it as his own way of sticking it to him. It's a decent compromise and I'm going with it. It's still my writing and as long as Paul keeps it that way, it means that I don't have to waste hours over all the bits I don't enjoy. So it's worth staying with him for that reason. We'll see how it goes!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 94: 6th May 2004


Dear Diary,

WOW! That was AWESOME! I'm just so pleased with how it all went...

The plan was simple really. We'd agreed to have a straight knockout tournament at kickboxing - something I'd wanted from day one, but Ron had manoeuvred himself away from. The way it would work was that there would be two mini male and female tournaments so that the final four (two girls, two guys) would meet in the semi-final. Still, the blokes had had the upper hand in the last few sessions. Ron himself had beaten me down on two separate occasions, so it seemed a no-brainer for them.

"How about this?" I spoke up suddenly. Up until now I'd been pretty quiet as the blokes had been gradually increasing in numbers. "The loser in the final kisses the feet of the winner."

All the blokes snorted with laughter while Ron shook his head. "That's just weird," he stated. "I don't want you or her..." he waved dismissively towards Harriet, who glowered, "...kissing my feet."

Ryan then patted him on the shoulder. In recent sessions, I'd instructed him to get closer to the guys, to the point that Ron had taken Ryan under his wing. "Come on, you can like, take her, innit. Plus, boys would then win. It'd be OUR club, mate." Ryan had been matey enough and boosted Ron's ego during the last few sessions, making it clear that he was the top fighter in our club. He'd been blanking me too, something that Ron and the other guys were pleased about.

Soon enough, he agreed to the terms. Of course, I was confident as I easily progressed to the semi-finals, taking it easy on the girls I defeated - knocking than down firmly but with no malice. Harriet did so too - part of me hoped it would be the two of us in the finals but she had been overawed to many times by Ron before. Sure enough, he beat her comprehensively, including a nasty spinning heel kick that made her bleed, again. The bloke I faced, Matt, was tough but after a minute of blocking each other, I dodged an axe kick and pulled off a stunning question mark kick, to send him flying to the mat, him not able to continue and checked for concussion.

Ron was still confident when we began but what he didn't know was that I had been holding back. In our group sessions, his two victories over me and been my doing - the were deliberate, to build up to this tournament. This meant that he saw me as no real threat, fuelling his ego further and making this tournament with the raised stakes acceptable.

"I can't wait to feel the taste of your lips on my sweaty feet..." I taunted him, while he reddened, stepping forward to punch me. I blocked it and went for a low kick, which he side stepped.

As we circled each other, he glared at me. "This club is gonna be ours. I've seen how you treat Ryan... you're so full of yourself. I'm gonna take over from April, once I get a couple more mates to join - I'll get a petition. You're just a cocky kid and I'm taking you down...." Ron was about thirty years old, clearly an experienced kickboxer and must have seen me as a child.

He launched into a flurry, a front kick, which caught me in the belly followed by a middle one which I just darted away from, before a roundhouse so sudden that I was struck on the side of the head, knocking me straight to the ground. Seeing stars, I kept down for a couple more seconds before quickly getting back up. Shit... I had to be careful here! The first point was his but it wasn't over.

Ron didn't relent, moving with metronomic precision with each blow, though I was able to block each of them. He started to get impatient. suddenly switching to another roundhouse, which I saw coming and retaliated with a rear one of my own, which caught him on the cheek. He yelled out at this, while I swiftly struck him with two rapid low kicks, then a barrage of body blows, while he staggered back and dropped to one knee.

I paused, savouring the moment. "Oh, Ron, it's all so sudden... It's... no!" I heard appreciative laughter from the girls while the guys, including Ryan, all looked uneasy. Taking my time I struck him hard with an axe kick, which he yelped out in pain to, dropping to his side and clutching his head.

To his credit, he got back up for Round 3, though it didn't last long. I berated him with each kick, which he was flapping more uselessly to defend against. Beating him was one thing, but knowing what was coming next made it all the more delicious. I teased him with half-effort kicks, enough to cause grunts and yelps of pain, while he dripped with sweat and winced. I sensed he was getting desperate after he swung a huge punch to the air. I rolled my eyes as I hovered a bare foot over his face before swiping it neatly forward, once on each cheek until he fell forward, flat on his face, winning the match.

At first, Ron tried to slither away but I needed to do this. Pinning him firmly down with one foot on his chest, I posed victoriously, yelling out that 'Girls rule this club!'. It was wonderful as a couple of the guys left, shaking their heads while the others stayed, watching with disgust, as though they were viewing a horror movie. Balancing neatly on him, I switched to sitting on his belly, keeping him very well planted and hovered my feet over his face. I had a flashback to last summer with Ross and The Cousins.

"I win," I told him softly. "More importantly, WE win. I don't want to see you, or your mates, here again. Now kiss my feet, loser..."

Ron did so meekly, placing a defeated, reluctant kiss on each sole while I threw my arms in the air to celebrate. The girls then joined me, squeezing my shoulders, patting my back, not bothered about accidentally stepping on Ron. April gave me a huge hug, clearly not bothered about the favouritism she was showing. Yep, she was well and truly on our side.

In our next session, just three guys (which included a hard-to-read Ryan) turned up and they were all treated with disdain. Harriet took great pleasure in demonstrating a front kick to one guy that had laughed at her being beaten by Ron before. By the end of the session, April told them that they would need to 'up their game' to stay in this club. It was fun in my foot session afterwards with Ryan, going over my fights and how easy it was to kick those guy's arses. Again, he was hard to read as he simply agreed quietly with everything I said.

Anyway, it's a shame that she can't ban guys altogether but it's not her gym. She has to pay a license and she has literally no control over it. I'm sure it will happen again when some arseholes try to take over, which means me beating them down again. But what if it's someone who's too tough? It's all worked out well, for now. If only April were allowed to have an all-female club of her own!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 95: 12th May 2004


Well, even Stewart can't seem to fault me. My last two essays have both come with a respectable 72% and 74% grade. Not as high as I was scoring in Term 1, and it does seem unfair that it's only me receiving his scrutiny, but he seems satisfied that there's no foul play. The way he looks at me, though. Like I'm a piece of dirt on his shoe, like I am SO beneath him. It's demeaning. One day, I would love to see him surrender at my bare feet!

It's official for Paul - he's been relieved of his Professor duties. He took the fall and blame for the 'irregularities', both absolving me but ultimately costing him his career. Because he was compliant and took all of the responsibility, Stewart's given him a lowly 'archivist' role in the Uni library. It's a fraction of the pay, it seems mind-numbingly dull but he seems to have accepted it.

Veronica paid him a visit while I was there the other day. He was scribbling down notes that I dictated for my latest assignment. The look on her face was one of total superiority, the cat who had got all of the cream and some more. She totally ignored me but dropped off some papers to him; since his change in financial circumstances, she'd kindly agreed to a revision to their reparations.

"Wow, to think we were collaborating with leading Professors on a Literature review just months ago and look at you now. Library Archivist and a fresher's little skivvy," she smirked while I glared at her. "I've actually got a new pool installed at home - with all of the extra money from the divorce, I can easily afford it..." she drawled. "If you wanted some extra hours as my pool boy, just let me know." She chuckled while Paul stared at the floor, closing his eyes in despair.

I was about to retort but Paul quickly grabbed my hand and shook his head. Veronica let out a disappointed sigh. "I hope it's all worth it, my dear ex-husband. To be fair I should be thanking your little fuck-buddy here - if i wasn't for her, I'd be stuck in a loveless marriage with no way out! Now we all win. Well, I win the most, of course. But at least you two have this little love shack. I just hope that I find my own prince one day..." She gestured in mock-emphatic fashion, before giving a final smug look at us before leaving.

Her words have stayed with me. With Paul, it is far from a love-nest. We don't do anything sexual, not since that disastrous last time before the Easter holidays, which was over a month ago. The most I've let him done is rub my feet, and even that I'm wary of, in case it gets him too excited. He seems content though, like he's accepted he's no use to me sexually, but is putting all of his spare time into my essays. It is pretty sad and pathetic. How much longer can I slum it with him for? With the weekly money from Anthony (I forgot to mention, he VERY much enjoyed kissing each of my bare feet after the first four payments were complete), I am probably out-earning Paul. My student dorm is nicer than the studio flat he has. He doesn't even have a shower! just a small hose by the kitchen sink!

But, to end things definitively, to take away the one thing he still has... I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for that.

Love,
Kayla

Entry 96: 21st May 2004


April and I had SUCH a fun night out. It was funny watching a guy trying and failing to pull her. She dismissed him so brutally. He then tried it on with me. HA!

Anyway, we got talking - serious talking. After what happened with the guys in our club, the occasional one has joined. Some have been fine - like totally inoffensive. Others have been more cocky but between us, we've made them feel so unwelcome that they haven't stayed for long. We haven't even used Ryan as a mole. Of course, I've still been using him to lather his tongue over my sweaty feet with. I haven't had so many one-to-ones, as I'm past practising the basic moves and am spending more free time sparring with April. She admits that I'm already a better fighter than her, which was the most amazing thing I've ever heard! But I still have some sloppy areas to work on, which she is working on with me personally.

Back to what we discussed. April has been saving to buy her own gym, but still has a way to go. She has a vision - for an all-female gym and fighting club, an elite club for women only. Skill level doesn't matter, but it is 'elite' in the sense that you need an elite mindset. There would be different sessions for a variety of disciplines, but absolutely no men allowed. She HATES men. She honestly believes that men should be slaves to women, that they are only good for serving us, that they are basically an aberration with how stupid, testosterone-driven and disgusting they are. The worst criminals are men, how they are driven biologically and emotionally is flawed. She just can't stand being around them, unless they have been disciplined and know their place.

I brought up Ryan then, deciding to confide in her the full truth. From everything starting back last summer, to his attempts to sexually take advantage of me, to then being a 'Drinks Bitch', to finally his current role. She loved the fact that I had tamed him but was surprised that I was still using him to worship my sweaty feet.

"You see Kayla, there are two types of guys. Alphas and betas. You can't turn an alpha into a beta, but you can castrate them - emotionally speaking. By that, I mean that you can demean and debase them so much that they accept their role is to serve you, but they should not enjoy it. Betas are built to enjoy the humiliation. You have to be careful with them - keep them at clear distance. Do not give them too much pleasure. In fact, they should really be in permanent chastity and very occasionally be milked." She said this all so matter-of-factly; I was absorbing every single word.

She told me about her friend's older brother, who was two years older and really tried to push her around when she was sixteen. Her friend was too scared of him to stand up to her but April wasn't. She knocked two of his teeth out and forced him to be her footrest, for her and her friend. The guy was too embarrassed to tell anyone else about it, but she saw him as an animal - as something that needed to be brought to heel. I wanted to tell her more about other guys, like what happened with Ross, but I didn't feel ready for that. I surprised myself with how hurt I was with what happened, especially after Ian died and he just cut me out.

It's made me think about Ryan, about how it was exhilarating at first to make a scumbag like him suffer under my feet. But I didn't, deep down, want or need him in my life. Yes, I had leverage on him, but really he was beneath me and I had made my point enough times to leave permanent psychological damage on him, which is what he deserved.

Anyway, I love April's vision. An elite female gym and fighting club. If only she had more money - I would love to be part of it all!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 97: 26th May 2004


Paul's confessed to me. He accepted the job as Veronica's pool boy. How could he?!

Seriously! The main reason he did it was because he was scared of what she might do - basically, inform the University and whoever else about me. Not for his benefit, but for mine. So I do appreciate his loyalty but he's basically at her total mercy. Today he had been at the Uni since 8am, working on scanning endless books to the computer, then three hours cleaning Veronica's new pool and fetching her drinks while she lounged around and read.

I don't like it, not one bit. But I do kind of admire her. It's total domination. She got the house, the cars, all of their assets, is even collecting a monthly payment from him (like I am with Anthony except she's not selling her socks, ha!). The point is, she's not content in just ruining but wants to actively humiliate him too. And he's taking it all because of me. I don't actually need him for any essays (see more below) so I've barely seen him, anyway. Maybe that's part of her plan, keep him busy so he can't get to see me, where she assumes is his sexual release.

This term is racing quickly by - only a few weeks to go! There are no more assignments but we do have several exams, including a Language Origins (sigh...) one to do. I can't say I'm enjoying it much. Dylan even noticed that, remarking to me that I had 'lost some fire' in a general debate during a seminar. Truth be told, I am loving kickboxing, enjoying spending more time with April. I even paid Steve a visit - it had been a while and I recreated Stages 1-4, and some more with him. For Stage 3, it was a different mantra.

"Goddess Kayla, I would give anything to taste your feet!"

Again, that had gone on for an hour and he was rewarded in the brief Stage 4 of an inhalation of each bare foot. Just like before but NO climaxing into his boxers this time! He made sure of that, and did each breath as long as possible - but the human lungs can only go for around ten seconds until they were full. So it was amusing watching him anticipate Stage 5.

What was Stage 5? Well, unfortunately for Steve it was longer than 4, and not as fun. This involved him being my footrest, with a sock shoved in his mouth, duct taped around the back of his head AND my trainer mostly covering his nose (a small gap to breathe). For a full hour. To be fair to Steve he had done well in the preceding two hours but this third one was too much and, feeling his knees tremble, he pitifully lost balance just eight minutes to go.

Slumped on his side, I kept him pinned down, a bare foot on his chest, giggling when I accidentally stepped on his boner with my other foot. At least that didn't make him splurt his load!

"Aw, slave! You were doing SO well. You would have loved Stage 6 too..." I removed the sock and trainer while he let out a full on mewl of frustration. "Oh dear, a clear sign of dissent. Back to Stage 1 next time, with an extra half hour bonus time added on...."

Steve was reduced to a whimpering wreck, still with a raging hard on as he curled up into the foetal position. Like I did with Ryan, I made sure to step on his head, well the side of his head, as I casually walked away. Such contact of my bare foot on the freak's cheek was more than he deserved. The loser!

To be honest, it wasn't as fun this time. With Steve, he is in total, utter servitude to me, and gets off on it so much. I thought about April's words before - that you needed to be careful with beta guys, with guys already so swamped with foot desires like Steve. Still, the most contact he got in three hours was to smell my feet at a distance and feel one bare foot briefly on his cheek while I stepped on him. So that was distance enough!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 98: 2nd June 2004


I just had an interesting time with Dylan. Very interesting! A few from the our course were there, including Professors. Obviously not Paul! While we were debating the pros and cons of Tony Blair (more cons than pros, these days), Stewart interrupted us, taking me to one side.

"I just wanted to say, Kayla, that you have certainly redeemed yourself with your assignments. They have been most... consistent," he completed, looking a little awkward. "So, er, well done."

I smirked but at least tried to look more neutral, telling him a brief 'thanks'. I noticed him looking less formidable than before; I couldn't help but think how delicious it would be to break him under my feet. What an achievement that would be! He started saying something else but I turned away to resume my chat with Dylan. Yes, I didn't want to upset or provoke Stewart, having had an official warning, but who the hell was he to interrupt me like that?! I actually noticed a tall guy staring at me from the bar. When I clocked him a look, I realised it was Ron - my defeated nemesis from kickboxing. He quickly looked away and moved away from somewhere else. Good!

Dylan and I ended up going back to his. He had overhead Stewart's conversation with me, so I shared the main highlights with him, no reference to Paul, of course. I even mentioned how I tried to deal with him in his office, with my bare feet on his desk. Dylan howled with laughter as he put on a Radiohead CD.

"Kayla, you are such a piece of work..." He chuckled. "You really think that every guy should just bow down before you, don't you?"

I nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah I do, actually. Anyway, bow down already, Dylan." I grinned at him, while he returned one of his own.

He was pretty much the only guy I liked. There was no agenda there - he wasn't manipulating me, trying to have his way with me, always made me laugh and was intelligent. Like all the best bits about Paul but without the neediness and desperation. I'd even forgiven him about the whole exam thing back in January - it didn't seem such a big deal, now that I'd been gradually been losing interest in my studies.

"Nah, I don't think so," he told me casually, taking a sip of his can of beer while he handed me one. Not a great taste in drinks though, I mused. "Have you always seen men just as tools to manipulate? I mean there's been Anthony, you told me about that brother of your dorm-mate, then there was Paul...."

I nearly spat out my drink. "What! Paul, Professor Paul, I mean our former professor?"

"Oh, come on. I pick up on stuff, you know," he told me gently. "The attention he was giving you in lectures, how your interest has waned since he was let go... how you looked at him. Don't worry, no-one else knows anything..." he added hastily. "I just, you know, figured it out."

Dylan was smart. Annoyingly so. Yet I couldn't help but feel the atmosphere shift from friendly to tense. Tense in a good way.

"You're right," I said simply, causing him to look surprised. "All of that's true. Including the bit about men bowing down to me. You can start by rubbing my feet..."

It was his turn to nearly spit out his drink. "A foot rub? No it's OK. Er, look Kayla, I was just kidding. I mean, I won't say anything about Paul, but we're good, right?" He gave me another grin but I didn't return it.

I eyed him like a lioness about to devour a gazelle. The poor bloke didn't stand a chance. Placing down my beer I stood up from where I was sat on his chair and stalked towards him.

"Dylan, your'e smart but surprisingly slow. I get what I want. I have who I want. And right now I want... a foot rub..." I forced him onto his back and sat promptly on his belly, leaning my lips towards his ear. He went still but I could already feel his heart begin to race.

"I can have you. Anytime I want, you know that right?" I whispered in his ear, while he let out a ragged breath. "But first I want a foot rub. Now."

Lifting my head back up, I stared down at him, a pure confidence and certainty filling me. Dylan soon capitulated as leaned back with my legs extended and my feet in his hands, inches from his face. "OK," he replied, in a quiet voice. "Sure..."

Although the actual massage wasn't great, it was the feeling of power, of taking a guy over, knowing that he was powerless to stop me from what I wanted. Dylan couldn't keep eye contact from my burning gaze, so shifted his full attention to my feet, his clumsy thumbs pressing up against my soft bare soles. After a few minutes, I let out a satisfied sigh and swivelled my legs away, sitting opposite him still but without my feet in his face.

"Good boy," I gave him a imperious look while he kept his eyes shifting away. "I might let you do that for me again..." I giggled before standing up, slipping my shoes back on and wishing him goodnight.

It felt like it was needed - like he needed to be put in his place and have it very clear to him that he was NOT on my level. He had no right to analyse me, how casually he mentioned Paul. So technically all he did was rub my feet, but we were both well aware of what it represented. Even though I like Dylan - yeah I still do - I wanted to make it clear to him that his jokey little comment was actually correct - that guys DO bow down to me!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 99: 6th June 2004


Ever since the foot rub, Dylan has been avoiding me. In our revision session earlier, he totally blanked me and actually sat with Janki. That really pissed me off. Was his ego that fragile? One little foot rub and I had dented his pride beyond the point of him being able to speak to me.

Revision is NOT fun by the way. Exam week is looming and even Paul can't help me. Stewart has personally seen to it that the exam questions will be 'excitingly brand new' this year. So Paul doesn't have anything to help me, other than some notes, which I've already got from Anthony. Yeah, that little pet has been chipping in with doing some summaries for me, which at least this time are better than they were back in January. He's kept his end of the bargain up, though apparently has had to work in a sports shop (what a funny image - overweight, non-athletic Anthony selling trainers - ha!) for more money, as the end of term runs closer. So hopeless!

Angel has tired of Sam by the way. What's funny though is her relentless conditioning of forcing her feet in his face while she finished him off had definitely had an effect. She told me how she didn't need to start fucking him - just having her feet in her face was enough to get him hard! This was hilarious and it goes to show that it DOES work. Maybe had Theo not dumped me so abruptly (yeah, I haven't forgotten that bastard completely) I could have gradually worn him down and not given him a choice but to get aroused by feet, like Angel did with Sam. Anyway, eerily familiar, the sex had gotten boring for her - he was just basically a doormat getting off on her feet and orgasming, sometimes twice in as little as ten minutes. He had no confidence or skill to satisfy her, so she ditched him.

He was pining after her, drunkenly knocking on her door, which woke me up in the middle of night. Meeting him in the dormitory hallway and placing a well-aimed kick to his face was enough to shut him up and he hasn't been back since at least.

Still, Angel has had a taste of my life, of what I do to stupid boys and in her case, she successfully reduced a so-called alpha to a snivelling foot pet. Then ditched him after all of that. Brutal! She's already met another guy but she assures me that she's "Over the whole foot thing", like she now wants something more conventional. It's as if she's completed a now project and now disposed with it, returning to what she is more used to doing. Fair enough, but part of me wants to encourage to pursue the "whole foot thing" a bit more!

I've been speaking to my very excited Mum recently. Graham has asked her to move in with him! Technically that's us moving in, as I'll be back of course for the Summer. It is great news, on a selfish level as I'll never have to see the little shithole again (Graham has hired a team for the the move so I don't need to even lift a finger) and Abi has promised to help me set up my new bedroom. Bless her!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 100: 9th June 2004


I took it a bit too far with Ryan earlier. I needed to let off some steam after the horrendous Language Origins exam this morning. I hadn't needed a one-to-one with him for so long and it had admittedly stung that he'd not contacted me, other than seeing me at kickboxing group. It was clear he didn't need me either, which part of me was annoyed by.

So, I was just going through all the kicks, grunting with satisfaction, every time I sent Ryan with his pillow to protect him hurtling to the ground. Maybe it was a lapse in concentration, or part of me really wanted to punish him as my next kick, a reverse hook, smashed him so hard in the nose he screamed in pain, blood gushing from it.

Dropping to the ground, on all fours, tears leaked from his face as blood sprayed onto his carpet. I ran to the bathroom to get some tissue, while he wailed. All of the commotion caused two of Ryan's housemates - both girls - to join us. I'd only ever seen them briefly, in passing, as Ryan would always be the one to let me in. They knew we practised kickboxing, but had been giving me cold looks before, no doubt noticing some of Ryan's other injuries - a cut lip here, a swollen cheek there - nothing major, not like today.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" One girl shook her head as she called an ambulance from her mobile. I protested that it was an accident, pissed off that I would be accused of something.

The other one, a brunette with shoulder-length hair helped with the blood flow. "Something's up with you," she glared at me. "Yeah, yeah you say it was an 'accident', like I'm sure ALL the other times were. I know Ryan's not the sharpest tool but he's not a literal punching bag. You never seem to get injured. What the hell is this arrangement you have?"

As her housemate finished the phone call, she joined her, roughly pushing me away to help with Ryan. "You're fucking mental you are. The ambulance are on their way and I'm even thinking of calling the police too."

"Ryan..." I hopped down to speak directly to him. "You know I didn't mean to, right. We're OK, yeah?"

To my shock, he slowly shook his head, taking uneven breaths as one of the girls ease the flow of blood. "We're...done..." He said, his voice weak but with conviction.

I left things there as I'm sure I could hear sirens but it also made me realise that I didn't need him anymore, anyway. I had gone too far and I couldn't deny - not to myself at least - that the last kick I unleashed had more venom than usual. Maybe it is best to draw a line under things with him. He's served a purpose and over half a year of making his life a misery was a fair punishment. As I left the house, one of them called out that she ought to report me to the University too. Great, that's all I'd need after Stewart's warning! I do technically have photos of him, enough leverage to blackmail him - I could ask for money, I could make him lick my feet still. But I don't feel the need to. Breaking his nose is what it is - a clean break, in more ways than one.

I regaled April with everything that happened and she seemed totally unbothered. In fact, she thought it was for the best as she was never comfortable with him around. She even joked that we could find some other loser to wipe and clean all of the equipment after our next group session!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 101: 14th June 2004


Well, that's it. The exams are done! They weren't ALL terrible but I knew going in that I was never going to be fully prepared. Anthony's notes had only got me so far, no-one on the course, including Dylan, had wanted to do any final cramming with me and my heart wasn't in it, to be honest. I've actually taken his advice on board - that the first year is worth so little of the overall grade, that it will literally be a couple of points difference in the end. I gave up on being the 'best student' a LONG time ago!

It was surprisingly easy replacing Ryan for who to be our clean-down bitch. Steve...

He'd been, as usual, begging me over MSN for the next 'Stage'. The idea was so simple and effective. He was delirious when I announced he'd be able to go STRAIGHT to Stage 6, which he gratefully thanked me for over and over, not even knowing what it was! He was uneasy when he was told to take me to kickboxing class - he'd dropped me off before so already knew where it was.

I shooed him away when I hopped out of his car, him agreeing to collect me in an hour, but to park up and meet me inside. When he did appear, awkwardly hovering while I chatted to April and Harriet, I waved him over.

"Guys, this is Steve. He's agreed to be in charge of cleaning duties. Right, Steve?" I fixed him with a confident stare while Harriet and April smirked at one another.

"Ooh, the new Ryan!" Harriet giggled as she waved goodbye. April nodded approvingly while I showed Steve what to do. With the size of our group, now up to fifteen girls (one guy, but he came and went and NO-ONE was very nice to him), that meant a lot of gym mats to disinfect and wipe down, plenty of helmets, gloves, foam shoe pads, other accessories. He looked overawed and hesitant but of course he agreed - I had made him do so many humiliating things that this was no issue, even in front of April.

"And he's doing this all for free!" I exclaimed, sitting in the cafe with April, having a good debrief and discussing the potential skills of some of the new girls. Steve shakily returned my thumbs up, trying his best to ignore the stares he was getting.

Afterwards, I told him to complete Stage 6, would mean doing this EVERY single time. I'm sure he considered protesting but he'd learned not to, plus when I mentioned that Stage 7 involved kissing my feet, he was putty in my hands. It's the perfect solution because it means I keep him well and truly in his place and make the actual time with my feet seem like such a huge obstacle, that is almost unobtainable. I'm using April's advice of the whole 'keep betas at arm's length'.

Since then, he's diligently been our clean-down bitch for two more sessions, not even asking me - on MSN or in person - about Stage 7. I made it clear that I would tell him when he had reached that stage, but it would take a LOT of cleaning before he'd be close!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 102: 19th June 2004


Well, the exam results are in. It went even worse than expected, including 31% on Language Origins. The others varied from in the 50s, with some 60s, but it's brought my overall average down to below 70. Of course Amy and Janki were loudly comparing scores, high-fiving each other when they both announced 99% in Origins. Of course.... the Study Buddies were so fucking smug!

I finally managed to catch Dylan as we were leaving the room, who was still giving me the cold shoulder so I had it out with him.

"Is this about the other week? When you rubbed my feet?" I asked him bluntly, possibly within earshot of Janki, which made him wince and take me into another, empty study room.

"Kayla... that was such a weird night. You were being really fun and cool, then you just changed. Like you had to prove something to me." He checked no-one else was listening in. "I do like you, well I did but I don't know what it is with you, with you and other people."

"Actually..." I frowned at him. "Was that I told you to rub my feet, and you did it. You did it because you know deep down that I'm better than you. You're just another guy, Dylan. You're not special - so don't take it so personally when you have to swallow some pride and admit defeat." I was angry; what he'd said about 'me and other people' was a low blow.

He sighed. "Fine, I rubbed your feet. Big deal. But I did it because you... frightened me, Kayla. Not because I think you're better. You had this look about you that if I didn't do it, I honestly didn't know what you'd do."

"Is she bothering you?" An impatient, entitled voice rang out in front of us.

Janki...

"Dilly, you promised to buy me coffee for every exam I beat you in. And as I beat you in every single one, you owe me a LOT of coffees!" She giggled, ignoring me as she beamed at him. 'Dilly'... yuck!

He recovered his composure as I rolled my eyes and spoke first. "Actually Janki, Dylan is going to be rubbing my feet this afternoon, right Dilly? So maybe you can have your little coffee another time." This completely floored him as he stood, mouth gaping while Janki looked like a crush puppy. With him too shocked to speak, his nervous laughter didn't help, so she stormed away.

Taking a breath he looked incredulously at me. "What the...fuck?"

I shrugged. "Oh come on, you know it and I know it, you can't resist me, Dylan. Either you're going to try it on with me and get your clear obsession out of your system, or you'll come crawling to surrender at my feet. Even if it's not this afternoon, it will happen. You know it and I know it. Either way, I'll win." I smirked as I walked away, basking in Janki's tears as I saw her being consoled by Amy.

To be fair to Dylan, I've heard nothing from him since then, but I did later learn that Janki refused to see him, which was good to know!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 103: 23rd June 2004


Well, I've made a decision. I'm leaving University.

Yep, it seems sudden but in a way, it really isn't.

After a meeting with Stewart, when he took great pleasure in going through each of my grades with me, from my assignments in the high 90s, all the way down to my lowly 31%, he had concluded that I would need a serious change in attitude, in order to become a successful scholar. He even made some thinly veiled references to some 'favouritism', which he regretfully could not prove. Still, when he smugly told me that he'd seen to it that Language Origins would be featured in the second and third years, thanks to such positive feedback from others, I was done.

"Stewart..." I began, taking a breath and holding up a hand before he could interrupt me. "I am done. I am done with all of this bullshit. Just because I used some savvy to take advantage of situations, does not mean that I should be constantly belittled for it. You can take your second and third year of your shitty course and shove it up your arse!"

It felt like such a relief and all he could do was splutter. I pushed him further. With a customary smirk, I lifted up my legs, slipped off my shoes and rested my bare feet on his desk. "Oh one day, Stewart, I am going to have you grovelling at my feet. You would not be the first and I know that I could break you. It will happen sooner or later and there'll be nothing you can do to stop me. You'll be begging to kiss my feet. You'll be crawling on your hands and knees and apologising for how you have spoken to me. Believe me, it will happen!"

His mouth was hanging open; I actually wondered for a moment if he was going to kiss my bare feet in submission there and then, but he was of course made of sterner stuff. His face morphed to an expression of fury as he cleared his throat. Before he could yell at me, I rolled my eyes and slinked myself away, not even looking at him as I waved my hand goodbye.

I will make it my mission to have Stewart Thompson at my feet. ONE day!

Another reason I'm done with Uni is that April's struck a very good deal with the license fees at an abandoned shop. It's not the biggest space, but it has backrooms and would be viable for at least a kickboxing group to get together. She's moving to another flat and is needs help with a lot of set-up. I've offered to help - it means that I can continue one-to-one sessions with her and work on her new business with her.

Yeah I know... it's not exactly a long term plan and I don't know where the money will come from. Janki apparently made a complaint about me and has coerced Anthony into speaking up, so Dylan told me.

Yes, DYLAN! He turned up at my dorm earlier. He'd heard about me quitting and also wanted to give me a piece of his mind but ended up kissing me instead! It was wonderful, to be fair. Raw, angry, honest passion as we wrestled each other onto my bed. I quickly got the upper hand of course, and as I straddled him, the impromptu sex just made sense.

"Who's the best?" I murmured into his ear, while he thrusted himself into me. "Say it, Dylan... Say it!"

"You're.... the....best.... Kayla!" He nearly yelled, making me giggle. It lasted much longer than Paul had, but didn't exactly rock my world. After he came, he moaned out, his thighs twitching rapidly, an enormous sigh soon escaping his lips.

I continued to straddle him and smirked. "OK, so you went with the first option. But you know what's coming next, don't you?" Giggling, Dylan merely sighed as I placed my feet in his lap.

While Dylan rubbed away at my feet, we chatted, me doing most of the talking. He admitted that he'd had a crush on me for ages, which I reluctantly 'fessed up to as well. I made it clear that it was he who had surrendered to me, that this is why he came over to see me. He tried denying it but with my bare soles playfully tapping his cheeks, he soon agreed.

"What is it with the whole... feet thing?" He asked me, his massaging getting noticeably better, the longer he did it. "Wasn't there something with you and Anthony, about your feet? You told me about your feet on Stewart's desk..." He snorted and shook his head at my balls to do that.

Of course, he'd heard bits from Janki. She'd made it her mission to take me down, ever since I humiliated her in front of Dylan. It would be delicious for her to see this right now, and I told him so much. He reddened at this and pleaded with me not to mention anything to her, just because it would make things worse. He'd also heard about another girl making a complaint about me, about beating up her housemate. That would be Ryan...

I hadn't bothered to message him and to be honest, don't miss him. Again, I technically have the leverage on him and COULD easily blackmail him but to be fair, I think that chapter has finally come to a close. I've broken Ryan in a very literal way!

Dylan left, even agreeing to kiss each of my feet before taking me by surprise and full-on snogging me as he left. We've messaged since and I'm not sure what it is, what we are. Do I want another relationship, after everything with Paul? There's a love/hate thing going on with Dylan and it's interesting. He's the second guy I've ever slept with and although he wasn't as 'skilled' as Paul once was, it felt fresh and different. Plus, I got to him to rub my feet without any arguments so he already knows his place!

Love,
Kayla

Entry 104: 25th June 2004


Mum has not taken the news well, not at all. She was so proud of me for going to University - she never had after all but I assured her it was the right thing to do, plus I had started up a business venture with a friend. Graham snorted at that - owning several businesses himself, he knew how difficult it was to get one up and running - he soon backtracked, pretending to be sympathetic. I did not like that, not one bit.

I've made a few rough plans. First of all, it's in Mum's 'new' (as in Graham's) home for a couple of weeks. I'll be on the phone to April to talk about various ideas, bits of equipments and also, where I will live. Yeah, I've quit Uni but I want to stay in Bournemouth!

Money is an issue. Of course I've got no more student loan, nothing from Anthony and do NOT like the idea of getting an actual job. I'm considering getting money from Steve, but I don't want to get involved in anything like that with him - I never let him get to 'Stage 7' and since April's finished at the gym, he's not needed anyway. I ended up blocking him on MSN as he was just begging way too much. Anyway, Graham's mentioned he give me a 'loan', but is vague about how much it will be for. I don't trust that slime-ball; I know he makes Mum happy but I still don't get positive vibes from him. Earlier today, Abi was giving me a foot rub when Penny walked in.

"Abi! What on earth are you doing?" Penny's voice was as shrill and stuck up as I remembered.

Abi's cheeks reddened but I spoke on her behalf. "Your awesome sister is actually showing me how a guest should be treated. You can rub mine next time if you want?" Penny looked horrified and stormed away. I'll work on that one...

I've officially ended things with Paul. It was for the best and me quitting Uni made the blow a little softer to swallow for him. Veronica has been giving him extra jobs around the house - gardening, cleaning and other chores, so that he basically become her full-time maid, quitting his Library Archiver job. I wonder if it's really about her getting him to love her again. Is there more than a cynical ending for those two?

Of course, he begged me to give him another chance but I was done. I also admitted I slept with another guy, which he took surprisingly well, like it was the final nail on the coffin. Maybe Veronica will let him move back in eventually and give him a third chance? I can't say I miss him; I miss the 'old' Paul, back when challenged me on a physical, emotional and intellectual level. But that was a long time since that happened.

So, a clean break from Paul and a new start with Dylan? We've been messaging a bit and I do enjoy flirting with him. He'll be back in Bournemouth in September, so I'll probably meet up with him again then.

This also draws a line under these entries. It's been a year - a full year since I began the first entry. Back then, I was a different person. So shy, so meek. I've been through a hell of a lot - good and bad in the last 12 months. I've learned a lot, not in terms of study, but about people and about me as a person.

A full year, 10 full diaries, with 104 different entries, and I think I'm done writing. I accepted months ago that I wasn't as talented a writer as I assumed I was; when motivated I could put something together but even with Paul's help, I was a decent student at best. My passion for kickboxing has been real, genuine and something I want to pursue. It feels right to close this chapter and have a new one begin. But not literally - in terms of entries, I'm done.

Depending on how my next project goes will depend on if I feel the need to write a story one day. I know that if it do it will most definitely involve breaking boys and men under my feet.

Love and Goodbye,
Kayla

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