“Chris?”

Rachel asks.

Ivy raises her head and waits for response witch doesn’t come.

Rachel scans the floor and turns to Ivy:

“It became somehow intense, don´t ya think?”

Ivy, with a slight sigh:

“Yeah, kinda.

Not sure that boobcrush didn’t cross the line”.

Rachel:

“And me grinding down on him on your thigh?”

Ivy:

“Naah, far from his limit”.

Rachel:

“and yours?”

Ivy:

“Oh,-

aaaahhh,

no-….,

yes.

Far from it.”

Rachel:

“So me grinding down on a guy is OK for you?!”

Ivy:

“No, not!

He is cute as a button, but I would never think of any kind of rival or competitor.

He just can´t fill that out.”

Rachel:

“Someone else could?!”

Ivy:

“Stop it!”

Rachel:

“Hmm.

So you see him like a pet?

A cat?”

Ivy:

“Make it rather a hamster or a mouse,

aaand no.

He is much more than that.

But whatever you think no match for you.

Are you worried?

Should I take some distance?”

Rachel:

“No, its OK.

…...

Sooo….

me doing stuff with him..?”

Ivy,:

“Darling, whatever happens, I love you more than everything in the world.

Just don´t mess to much.

He has feelings like we all and since that accident…”

Rachel pulls Ivy closer for a kiss,

“I love you so much.”

And settles her head on Ivy´s shoulder, hugging her.

Some while later Rachel calls again:

“CHRIIIIIIISSSSS!

DINNER READYYY!”

________________________

________________________

Ivy went to check her mails and I walked down my ramp, well fed, with similar intentions.

I have to say the girls take great care of me and most of their routines where adjusted to increase my comfort and well-being.

The girls kept an assuring distance from the walls while walking and always checked the ground when they crossed a door.

There where ramps set up for me for the kitchen table, in the dining room, up on the workspaces, bathroom and toilet.

I could walk right beside the walls without any fear and only had to check when crossing a hallway, just like on a street.

Rachel was going barefoot anyway, Ivy got rid of her mules and when she had cold feet she used her fluffy unicorn slippers.

That was kinda funny, when standing in front of her I could pet her pet-unicorns and one time I even was so bold that I climbed up and rode it along a few steps.

It hit me, that would make a great addition to our clips and so I turned on the spot to talk with Ivy,- naah- I was asking Rachel first.

I entered the room and I saw her cleaning up the kitchen table.

As she did so she seemed to noticed something under it, down in its shadow.

It was a black, fat beetle, crawling along.

Usually if the girls found such a creature they would call me and my job would be to drag it out in the room- if it was save to do so.

From there on they would use a sheet of paper to set it free, out in the fields.

So waiting for her call I stood like a hero in the middle of the doorway, ready for action.

But instead of reaching for the man in the house Rachel used her bare foot to push it into the open.

The creature tried to oppose her and get away, but was easily overpowered by her toes.

Never the less it renewed its efforts on the vast kitchen floor as Rachel removed her foot to take a closer look.

It was a bit lengthy, about an inch with pronounced, segmented antennas on top.

Its six legs paddling in a frenzy to get away.

To my astonishment, as she did in a previous clip, she placed her sole on top of the bug, centring it under the palm of her left foot.

The Beetle was still respectable in size but far smaller than me.

As she set her sole on top, she slowly pressed down, immobilising it.

Only the legs where visible from my perspective, moving in a futile effort to get free until the still giving sole engulfed them as well and settled on the floor.

Like with me she had softened up around it without putting any real pressure down.

A smile crept around her lips, and I can´t say if she really said it out loud, but I know she was thinking: “Try harder, I love when you squirm”.

As she held this pose, I swear, I could see the top of her foot bulge slightly as the Bug put all its effort into pushing up against the oppressing flesh.

While straightening her posture she inhaled, moved her hands towards her inner thighs, softly caressing them in an upward movement and from there following the contour of her hips.

-CRACK-

The sound of the breaking exoskeleton echoed in my mind, through it must have been vastly muffed by the foot above.

She had her eyes closed and her weight shifted slowly, bit by bit onto her victim while her arms continued moving upwards, emphasizing her athletic outline.

As she did so her sole spread slightly under the mounting force, accompanied by further cracking and popping from below.

She stretched with still closed eyes, mildly smiling, to a completely upright position, arms and hands high in the air like a ballerina.

Her full lips parted slightly, her smile crept wider while she begun to exhale.

By pushing up on her right foot, her magnificent body shifted onto the squashed bug, stepping forward, riding it down by her sheer existence.

The beetle was pressed flat and its innards squirted out in erupting gushes.

The juices dispersed under her pad and between her toes.

Within this fluid motion she gracefully let her arms fall open and spread horizontally to her sides while her right foot settled in front and started to take over her weight.

I was speechless and without even noticing it before I suddenly realised I had a raging boner in my pants AGAIN.

Overwhelmed by this scene and not wanting to be caught I moved swiftly aside into the shadow of the door frame, hiding from view.

Just moments later she passed me, planting her foot right where I had stood before.

Silently the pad mad contact with the floor and spread under her weight.

She did not even relax to settle on the heel but pushed off to her next powerful stride, flexing her calf impressively.

When the sole lifted, it peeled away fast, accompanied by a wet, smootch-like sound.

For a second I could see the crushed remains of the bug still plastered to her skin.

It was so flat, if I did not know better I would have guessed she had a weird tattoo down there.

On the floor light was reflected by the thin film of moisture, dispersed by her pad.

The contour of her sole was outlined by the faint remains of a life, just where I had stood seconds before.

Death by beetlejuice, a goddess´s hand.

‘tis a consummation devoutly to be wished?

“I´M GOING FOR A JOG!”

She announced and stepped into her sneakers without socks nor hesitation.

As she closed the door I was left flustered.

I sank down in my spot, uncertain what was more unsettling.

Was it her act of utter dominance,

the joy she had, snuffing out that creature?

Or, me?