Mia's Foot Cult Ch. 02

"But...why?" the blonde stammered, her voice barely audible.

"Let me show you," Mia purred. She walked to the room Tom was in, Sandra reluctantly followed her. He was still half-consciously making out with Mia's yellow slipper.

"Watch" Mia said to Sandra. "Who's slave are you, Tom?" she asked, her voice ringing out like a bell striking midnight. Her gaze bore into Tom, who immediately prostrated himself before her.

"I'm your slave, Mia," he whimpered, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, allow me to prove my devotion to you."

Mia sat on her chair and extended her leg. "You may begin," she said to Tom, as Sandra stood there rooted to the ground and watched with horror. "Kiss my foot," Mia commanded.

Tom scrambled to obey, crawling over to Mia's foot and positioning himself directly underneath it. He kissed her sole tenderly, breathing in deeply and savoring the intoxicating aroma wafting upward from her skin.

"Now, lick it clean," Mia ordered.

Tom eagerly complied, extending his tongue and running it along the surface of Mia's foot.

"And don't forget to wash between my toes," Mia reminded him.

Tom groveled at her feet, his tongue feverishly working to clean her soles. Each lick and suckle drove him deeper into submission, his need to appease Mia growing stronger with each passing moment. He was acutely aware of Sandra standing nearby, watching his humiliating display with wide-eyed fascination. The knowledge that she was witnessing his complete surrender to Mia fueled his determination to prove his worthiness.

"There we go," Mia cooed triumphantly, as Tom completed his task. "A thoroughly clean foot." Mia declared with satisfaction, observing Tom's diligent work and then extending her leg towards Sandra, so she could also appreciate it. "You have been an excellent servant today."

Tom bowed his head, his voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you, Goddess. I hope I have pleased you."

Sandra, with a look of disgust, stared at Mia's extended sole that was wet from Tom's spit -- and then she looked at Tom, with horror in her eyes, as to what happened to the boy she was secretly in love with. "Tom... why are you doing this?!" She asked him, her crying voice filled with despair. "You've changed him, Mia! He's not the same person anymore!"

Tom remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ground. The memory of today's encounter with Mia weighed heavily upon him, his spirit crushed by the weight of his transgressions. "I'm sorry, Sandra," he muttered quietly, his voice strained. "I never wanted to hurt you..."

"Then stop doing this!" Sandra implored, her tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, Mia, let him go. Let him live a normal life, without being enslaved to your feet."

Mia smirked, her gaze fixed on Sandra. "You know, it's fascinating how easily people fall into my web," she mused, her words dripping with contempt. "Even those who claim to be immune to my charms ultimately succumb to my power. Not that Tom at any point claimed that he was immune. He wasn't. From the very start, really."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "You see, Sandra, my foot sweat holds a unique allure, one that proves irresistible to those who dare to cross its path." Mia spoke, her tone confident and assertive. "When Tom tasted it, he fell prey to its enchantment, surrendering his will to my commands."

Sandra gaped at Mia, her eyes wide with astonishment. "This cannot be true," she protested, her voice shaking with disbelief. "Surely, there must be an explanation for Tom's behavior that doesn't involve such fantastical claims."

Mia laughed derisively, her gaze fixing firmly on Sandra.

"Believe what you wish," she sneered dismissively. "But the fact remains clear; Tom is ensnared by my charm, willingly surrendering his soul to my bidding."

"Tom, please! Snap out of it! I love you!" Confessed Sandra to the boy.

He looked at Sandra. He looked at Mia. The memories of today's events came flooding back to him. He remembered the sweet scent of his beloved's feet, the intoxicating essence laced with sweat and femininity. He recalled the moments spent in blissful ecstasy, lost in the throes of sensual pleasure. And then, the crushing realization of his transformation, his submission to Mia's power.

Tom's gaze shifted between the two girls, his thoughts racing.

He remembered the fleeting touch of Mia's foot, the scent wafting up from her soles, the intoxicating embrace of the pheromones. It was as though he'd been enchanted, drawn into a world of pleasure and decadence that he'd never known existed.

"Tom," Sandra pleaded, her voice quivering with emotion. "Please, don't give up on me. We can find a way to escape from this. Together."

Then a desperate idea came into her mind -- but if it had any chance of working, of saving him, then she was going to try it. She took couple of quick, confident steps, stood in front of him, quickly took off her right tennis shoe and then her pink-colored sock. After that, and without much hesitation, she presented him her bare right foot, extending it before his face in one, swift movement. Her leg was shaking.

"Here. You like girls' feet, right? You have a foot fetish, right? That's why she made you like this! Here, have mine. Just please, leave her and come back with me!" She cried out.

Sandra's foot was by no means ugly, no. It was a rather standard, fairly narrow female foot, with good looking curves and an inviting arch. And although her nails weren't pedicured, they were still looking nice, with long, pretty and healthy toes. They weren't as perfectly shaped as Mia's, with Sandra's second toe longer than her big one, but still, her foot would overall be considered beautiful by most foot lovers in the world.

"Take my foot, Tom, please" Sandra said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Touch it, taste it, breathe it in. You can indulge in your sexual fantasies all you want with me, but please, I'm begging you, get away from Mia and start living your life again!"

Tom hesitated, looking back and forth between the two girls. He remembered the intoxicating scent of Mia's feet, the warmth of her sole pressed against his forehead, the promise of servitude and absolute devotion.

Yet, here was Sandra, offering herself to him, her foot extended before his face. He could sense the vulnerability beneath her outward confidence, the desperation that drove her to expose herself in such a manner. Could he betray Mia's trust, abandon his role as her faithful servant, and embrace another's foot in service?

"Tom," Sandra pleaded softly. "I need you to choose. Me or her. Choose wisely; your decision will shape our future forever."

His eyes flickered between the two girls, his heart pounding in his chest.

Sandra's foot was hovering before him, an invitation to break free from Mia's spell. Yet, the lingering memory of Mia's foot, her mind-numbing pheromones, and his promise of servitude were pulling him back. "Tom," Sandra whispered again, this time with voice trembling with urgency. "Choose me."

Mia watched the exchange unfold, her gaze piercing through Tom's hesitation. She could sense the turmoil coursing through him, the struggle to resist her power. Her eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on Tom. She saw the indecision etched into his features, the internal battle raging within him. It was an agonizing process, watching him falter, torn between his loyalty to her and the allure of Sandra's innocent foot.

"Tom," Mia called out softly, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Make your choice." She said that but, unlike Sandra, she didn't present him her foot to compare. She didn't feel the need to. Her feet were objectively much more beautiful than Sandra's and only a fool or a blind man would be thinking otherwise. And if Tom was going to choose them, to return to her from his hesitation, he would have to crawl to her, rejecting the extended leg of a blonde girl. Rejecting the symbol of a normal life.

Tom was deciding what to do. With Sandra's foot so close to him, he could smell a little bit of her sweat. It was pleasant to him but the sensation was nothing in relation to what he experienced earlier with Mia. None the less, he still wanted to compare. Unfortunately, the dark-haired Goddess wasn't offering her foot the same way Sandra was.

But then he remembered. Mia's yellow slipper was laying next to him. He quickly looked at it, grabbed it and, to Sandra's horror, started to sniff the insides of it.

He moaned and sighed with satisfaction, enjoying the intense scent of Mia's pheromones inside it. Sandra could tell by the sound of his breathing that he was reveling in the aroma of Mia's sweaty foot. She felt sick. She felt betrayed. She felt hopeless. But she tried to stay calm.

She knew that she had to act fast. She had to reach Tom. So she quickly knelt and crawled closer to him, reaching out her hand, hoping to pull him away from his tormentor.

"Tom," she said gently and with concern. "Look at me."

With a heavy sigh, Tom lifted his gaze from the slipper and met Sandra's pleading eyes. His expression was that of an ecstasy but in his eyes there was a bit of sadness. He could sense the despair seeping through Sandra's pores, the longing for a connection that transcended the boundaries of friendship. Who knows what would have happened if Mia wasn't in his life. But she was.

"I'm sorry. I truly am" Tom said to the blonde girl. "But your feet are nothing compared to Mia's".

Tom whispered this last sentence hoarsely, his nose fixated on the pungent scent wafting upward from the slipper. He wasn't trying to insult Sandra. No. He was just saying the brutal truth. "Your feet aren't special, Sandra. They don't have this special magic that makes me want to serve a woman".

The blonde girl flinched, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth to suppress a gasp of horror and surprise. She hadn't expected such blunt honesty from Tom.

The cruel sting of rejection tore through her, leaving an empty void in her once hopeful heart. She clenched her teeth, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. Her pride wouldn't allow her to crumble before Mia. Instead, she forced herself to stand tall, defiant in the face of adversity.

"I see," Sandra murmured, her voice trembling with anger and bitterness. "My feet don't have the special magic that yours do, Mia." She turned toward the raven-haired Goddess, her eyes blazing with resentment. "You win; you've won him over."

Mia's eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction as she watched Sandra retreat. "I'm afraid you underestimated the extent of my powers, Sandra," she purred with arrogance. "I have the ability to turn any man into my personal sex slave, regardless of his initial resistance. And by the way, trust me -- Tom didn't resist."

Sandra shook her head, her hands balling into fists. Mia's words rang in her ears, taunting her with their implication of her unworthiness. She fought the urge to scream, to unleash her pent-up frustration and jealousy upon the smug brunette.

"Very well," Sandra managed to utter, her voice strained. "I concede defeat. I cannot compete with your foot fetish magnetism." She shot Tom a venomous glance, as he was crawling to Mia's feet. But his Goddess was just standing there, not moving them in any way. He was only able to lick her tops, insteps, as she wasn't helping him in his worshipful act. Tom felt that Mia was mad at him for even considering leaving her feet.

"I'm sorry, Goddess. You know I am. I just... I thought maybe I could return to somewhat normal life... But it was so foolish of me... Please, accept my apology, I'm begging you!" Tom pleaded with her, as he was trying his hardest to push his tongue into the gap between her standing bare right foot and the wooden floor.

"Phhllleashe, forghhive me fhhor doubhhhting youhhr powhher. I washhh whhrong" he tried to lick her sole but it wasn't working, so he decided to stop. "Oh... oh, so terribly wrong. I have only myself to blame for falling for such a trivial temptation."

Mia eyed him suspiciously, unsure whether his contrition was genuine or merely a ploy to regain her favor. Despite his apparent subservience, something nagged at her, prompting her to dig deeper.

"I want proof that you truly regret your actions," Mia demanded. "Tell me, Tom, what is it that drives you to submit yourself to my authority?" She asked, her voice soft yet stern. "Is it the scent of my foot sweat, the intoxicating aroma that seems to draw you in like a moth to flame? Or is it the magnetic allure of my whole presence that compels you to serve me, to perform acts of obedience that you might otherwise abhor?"

"I was always in love with you" Confessed Tom. "I was always in love with you character, your smile, your intelligence, your whole being. But I can't deny the thing that ignited my burning passion for you. The thing that made me obsessed with you. Your... ugh... unbhhelievabhhle foothh shhweat". Answered Tom, as he finally managed to push his tongue far enough, and with enough force, that it touched Mia's sole.

Even while standing, Mia's unbelievably high arches made it so Tom's task wasn't that hard to accomplish -- another reason of why her godly feet were better than Sandra's. He felt his Mistress's warm foot on his tongue, her smooth skin caressing it, and he breathed in sharply, the scent filling his nostrils. His body shivered with lust and excitement.

On the other side, Sandra stood frozen, her mind struggling to grasp the reality of Tom's confession. The intensity of his words echoed in her ears, a chilling reminder of the power Mia exerted over him. Sandra could hear the desperation in his voice, the raw emotion as he admitted that he loved Mia. The revelation left her numb, her legs weak beneath her, threatening to buckle at any moment. She wanted to flee, to escape the painful truth that Tom was irrevocably in love with the brunette. But she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away from the captivating scene unfolding before her.

Mia glanced at her quickly before returning her gaze to Tom, who was still writhing under her sole. "Tom", she said. "I have a task for you. Now that you have chosen, I want you to describe in detail how my feet are better than Sandra's. And do it to her face."

Tom swallowed nervously. His confession had already shattered Sandra's hopes, and he feared that further humiliation would crush her spirit beyond repair. "I... I'm not sure if I can do that," Tom stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "It feels unfair to Sandra--"

"Do. Not. Question. Me." Mia interrupted.

And Tom submitted to her will.

"I understand, Goddess Mia," he uttered. "I will speak the truth about your divine feet in comparison to Sandra's humble ones."

Sandra was standing still, her gaze locked on Tom, a mix of dread and curiosity coursing through her. She couldn't believe that he was actually going to do it, comparing the two sets of feet in front of him. The prospect of hearing the disparaging truths about her own feet, their shortcomings compared to Mia's flawless toes, soles, heels and ankles, filled her with apprehension. Yet, a part of her also yearned to learn the reasons behind Tom's obsession. She wanted to understand the power that swayed his emotions, to unravel the mystery that drew him so fervently into Mia's orbit.

"Well, Tom," Sandra shook her head at the thought of what the kneeling boy was about to do. "Please enlighten us with your assessment of Mia's superior feet," she said sarcastically.

He knew that his words would cut deep but he hoped that they could somehow provide closure to the situation. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"First off, Mia's feet possess a certain allure that Sandra's don't. Her skin is softer, smoother, and exudes a tantalizing scent that draws me in. There's a subtlety to the way her toes curl, ever so slightly, inviting my tongue to explore their contours." As Tom continued, Sandra's grip tightened on her arms, her knuckles whitening with tension. She struggled to maintain composure, determined not to crumble under the relentless barrage of criticism directed at her feet.

"Mia's toes," Tom continued, studying the delicate digits with rapt attention, "are both elegant and seductive. They boast a perfect curvature, unlike Sandra's, which lack the refined grace that Mia's possess. Furthermore, Mia's toes exhibit a natural symmetry that adds an intriguing dimension to their beauty. Her big toe is slightly longer than the rest, creating a dynamic contrast that draws the eye. In contrast, Sandra's toes appear more uneven and lacking the distinctive flair that Mia's possess. It's these subtle differences that distinguish Mia's feet as inherently superior."

Mia smiled, her gaze fixed on the distraught Sandra.

"Mia's high arches", Tom spoke again. "They are absolutely stunning. The curve of her arch creates a natural contour that makes my mouth water. Sandra's feet, however, are quite flat. They lack the dramatic elegance that Mia's feet showcase. Mia's arches are so high that when she stands, her soles barely touch the ground. I myself experienced it a moment ago, trying to lick her sole while she was standing -- and I succeeded. Those gorgeous feet seem to be built for walking on clouds. Sandra's feet, in contrast, lack that defining aspect. They're almost disappointingly plain in comparison."

Tom's words resonated deeply within Sandra, cutting at her resolve, and exposing the stark contrast between her own feet and Mia's enticing soles.

"Mia's feet," Tom explained, "possess a potent blend of femininity and strength that Sandra's simply lack. They inspire a desire to serve, to worship, and to bask in their presence. Sandra's feet, on the other hand, are more mundane. They're functional, yes, but they pale in comparison to Mia's enchanting attributes." Sandra listened intently, her heart pounding in her chest, as Tom dissected the flaws of her feet in excruciating detail. She tried to look away, but her fascination with Tom's description held her captive.

And Tom didn't stop. He was speaking and speaking, as if he was enchanted. "As for Mia's heels," Tom said. "They are so feminine and attractive. The perfect curvature of her ankle bones leads to her heels showing off her height advantage. Sandra's heels, however, are more masculine, thicker, and less appealing. They don't command the same level of admiration as Mia's do and strike me as rather ordinary and lackluster, failing to evoke the same degree of awe and reverence."

"Speaking of Mia's ankles," Tom was still talking, "they are the epitome of elegance, showcasing a harmonious blend of strength and delicacy. What's more, her beautiful thin Achilles tendon is visible even when she wears flats and sometimes sandals. The long line at the back of her foot is straight, slender and mouthwatering. This gorgeous Achilles tendon, in combination with slim ankles, gives the illusion that Mia's heel bone stretches directly to heaven. It's fascinating. It's magical. It's hypnotic. It's everything I desire. And this perfection of Mia's lower extremities ends with a strong but slender calf muscle, with a few sexy veins running down. In contrast, Sandra's ankles are wider, her tendons more hidden and not as defined. They lack the elegance and refinement of Mia's."

Sandra stood motionless, her sadness mounting with each word spoken by Tom. The vivid imagery painted by him served as a poignant reminder of the vast difference between her average feet and Mia's mesmerizing ones.

"The last and most important feature. Mia's sweat!" Tom spoke passionately, his tone rising with excitement. "Oh, Mia's sweat! The sweetest, most addictive fragrance I've ever encountered. I could spend hours inhaling it, relishing the intoxicating essence. Each whiff leaves me craving, eager for more. Sandra's feet, unfortunately, do not share this captivating trait. They emit a faint odor, which, while tolerable, fails to elicit the same visceral enchantment that Mia's foot sweat does. It's as if Mia's feet contain a unique cocktail of pheromones that can manipulate men's minds, forcing them to succumb to her will. Sandra's feet, despite their inherent beauty, fall far short in this regard."