Summary: A beleaguered teacher who is struggling with connecting to her students discovers an unexpected way to drum up motivation for them to perform well in her class.
(Note: the giantess stuff will come later, but I hope you all are willing to stay to the end! It's going to be a nice, fun little romp :) )
Categories: Giantess,
Fantasy,
Feet,
Footwear,
Gentle,
Instant Size Change Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Nano (1/2 in. to 2.5 nanometers)
Size Roles: F/f, F/m
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences, This story is for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 3
Completed: No
Word count: 7988
Read: 7418
Published: May 16 2023
Updated: April 14 2024
1. Monday by 2KFSK
2. Tuesday by 2KFSK
3. Wednesday by 2KFSK
Author's Notes:
This story will be a bit of a detour from my usual fare in a few ways. I do hope you enjoy, and know that if you'd like to see the next chapter, it's already up on my Patreon!
Monday
Ms. Chapman unlocked her classroom and stepped through,
holding the heavy door emblazoned with various art projects open for her
impending guest. A young boy shuffled in behind her with uncertain steps. Ms.
Chapman nodded and closed the door.
“Well then, Stuart…” Ms. Chapman stepped to the light switch,
her heels clacking and her lanyard jingling with every spare move. She switched
it, and the lights activated in waves, gradually illuminating a classroom that
appeared to have been working on various spread-out assignments before suddenly
being called to more important matters (lunch). “Do you know why I wanted to
speak with you?”
Stuart was a short young man, even by 6th grader
standards. He wasn’t as tall as almost all the girls, and he wasn’t as broad as
almost all the boys. His tweedy blonde hair was perpetually in tousles, and
without his glasses he was blind as a bat. It seemed to Ms. Chapman from a
cursory inspection that about the only thing the young man had going for him
was his academic acumen… but ever since the latest exam, even this had been
cast into question.
“Is… is this… about my grades?” Stuart looked at the floor
constantly, shuffling his feet in arcs against scuffed tile.
“To put it bluntly, yes,” Ms. Chapman said, tapping her foot
for a moment. She waved Stuart over, and he followed obediently to her desk. A
chair was positioned at front for him to sit, and he tentatively sat within,
gaze never travelling upward.
Ms. Chapman sat in her own rolling chair, feeling the stress
empty out of her as she relaxed her back and stretched out her spine. She
sighed, allowing her feet to slip out of her back dress-code high heels into a
pile beneath the floor. Then she felt the stress flooding back. The semester
was almost halfway over and the performance of her cadre of students had been
going downward more and more. It started with math, which made sense. Not even
Ms. Chapman enjoyed math. But then science, social studies, even reading! It
was endemic in her class, and though Ms. Chapman hoped Stuart’s continued
academic success was proof she was at least doing something right, ever
since he scored a 68 on the latest test his homework quality had been
dwindling. A bad sign.
Of course, Ms. Chapman couldn’t say all this to the
young man. So instead, she interlocked her fingers into an X shape and gazed at
him from around her computer. “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
Stuart said nothing, glancing up at Ms. Chapman before again
letting his gaze descend, apparently unable to look Ms. Chapman in the eyes.
Ms. Chapman closed her own eyes for a moment as she pondered
how to best express these concerns. Her toes gripped the edge of the mouth of
her shoe, a nervous habit as they clicked and clacked beneath the desk.
She slackened her fingers and prepared to speak.
“You’ve been doing so well in class lately. I’m just curious
if perhaps…” Ms. Chapman opened her eyes. “Can you please look me in the eye
while I’m addressing you?”
Stuart’s focus was completely on the floor beneath her desk.
He snapped out of it quickly and nodded. “Yes ma’am!”
“That’s important. You need to look adults in the eye while
speaking to them. Now…” Ms. Chapman prepared to speak. “Has… there been any
trouble at home, Stuart?”
Stuart shrugged. “No, not really. It’s the same ol’, same
ol’.”
“Well, that’s good to hear at any rate.” Ms. Chapman rapped
her fingers across the cover of the lesson plan. She opened her desk drawer and
pulled out a marked scantron. “Now, I have –”
The scantron slipped from her fingers, coasting through the
air until it fell on the ground. Ms. Chapman sighed. “Can you get that,
please?”
Stuart nodded emphatically. He got from his chair and dove
underneath the desk.
Ms. Chapman cleared her throat and gripped the mouse. The
computer monitor turned on, followed by the massive projector screen
perpendicular to her desk at the front of the room. Stuart scuttled like a vole
underneath her desk, the paper making scratchy sounds as it slid beneath them
on the floor, forever lost from Stuart’s dry fingers. As Ms. Chapman loaded the
test questions on the whiteboard, she began to wonder.
“Stuart? Stuart! Have you gotten the sheet, yet?”
“What? OUCH!” Stuart bumped his head against Ms.
Chapman’s desk. As he reeled, he scooted from beneath Ms. Chapman’s desk,
surely scraping his khaki brown pants against the floor. The scantron was in
his grasp.
“Stuart, honey, you’re not stalling, are you?” Ms. Chapman
raised a singular eyebrow, and Stuart shook his head emphatically. “Good. Because
if I have reason to believe you are, I will give you detention.”
“Not my permanent record!” Stuart eeked.
Ms. Chapman nodded ominously. “Anyway…” She grabbed the
projector remote as the first question appeared on the screen. After rolling
her chair around and to the front of the desk next to Stuart, Ms. Chapman
lightly snatched the scantron away from her student and gestured upward. “Now,
tell me. What’s the answer to this question?”
Stuart looked up. It was a rather simple word problem about
a pastry chef’s dilemma in turning a recipe meant for three into a recipe meant
for five. Stuart didn’t even have to bust out the scratch paper. “3.75 cups,”
he rattled off.
Ms. Chapman peered at him. “Correct. Now, we haven’t
reviewed this test in class, correct?”
Stuart replied, “Mm hmm.”
Ms. Chapman propped one foot on her knee, kneading it
between her knuckles. “How did you get that answer?”
“Well, I just… cross… multiple…” Stuart’s voice trailed off,
and only a few moments after the reasonable expectation of him finishing his
sentence ceased did Ms. Chapman finally snap. She turned to him, and noticed
once and for the first time… Stuart was looking at her feet.
“Stuart?”
“Mm hmm?” He didn’t turn away this time.
“Are you staring at my feet?”
This time he did. He looked up at Ms. Chapman, having turned
tomato red. His breaths got quick, and he began to hyperventilate. “I-I-I-I’m
sorry Ms. Chapman! I-I-I didn’t mean to –”
“Stuart, please.” Ms. Chapman gazed down at Stuart with her
motherly smile. “It’s okay, truly.” Truthfully, Ms. Chapman wanted to laugh out
loud, and she was trying very hard not to. This was certainly novel;
never in Ms. Chapman’s thirteen years of teaching students across elementary,
middle, and high school levels had she encountered and caught anyone
ogling her feet before. It was a new feeling, and it made Ms. Chapman feel…
kind of giddy. Like when a student tells a teacher “I love you” or some other
display of disproportionate affection.
“I-it is…?” Stuart squeaked out. Ms. Chapman could tell he
wanted to turn his gaze to her feet but was stopping himself with as much
willpower as an 11-year-old could muster. “It feels… weird. Like something’s
wrong with me…”
“No, Stuart. Nothing is wrong with you, and don’t let
anybody say that there is. There’s nothing wrong with thinking feet look nice,”
Ms. Chapman chastised. “But you need to focus. We’re here to talk about your
grades.”
Stuart nodded slowly, eyes still downcast. Ms. Chapman
thought for a bit, then said, “We can talk more about feet… later. After
we’ve gone through the test.”
Stuart’s eyes almost lit up. “Okay!” he cheered.
The next ten minutes went by like a blur. It was almost unbelievable;
Stuart’s erstwhile academic acumen that she thought he lost had returned in
full force. He was cross-multiplying, using fractions, finding the area of
circles and triangles and squares, even some beginner algebra. All without a
calculator. It was… sort of scary, if Ms. Chapman was being honest. But the
goal was for her to have a class of educated students by the end of the
semester, and this was as good a start as any.
“That’s… that’s incredible…” Ms. Chapman clicked the Next
Slide button but none came up. “You just answered every question with 100%
accuracy. Where was this during last week’s exam?”
“Ah…” Stuart cast a glance to the seat he’d been placed in
for the test, just close enough to Ms. Chapman’s to afford a view of beneath
her desk. “I was a bit distracted…”
“Oh.” Ms. Chapman put a finger to her lip as Stuart waited
patiently. “Well, I guess a deal is a deal…” Ms. Chapman pulled her foot up
from where she’d perched her toes on the spokes of the rolling chair. Her sole
was placed firmly in the cushiony seat of the chair, and Stuart was practically
salivating.
Suddenly, Ms. Chapman was struck by a horrifying thought. Am
I… am I really about to proffer my feet… to a child? Clearly, he was
into it, or had some burgeoning fetish. And while there’s nothing wrong with
that per se, as a teacher and authority figure, this was all sorts of
wrong.
But what, really, was wrong about it? It’s just feet, after
all. It’s not as though she ripped off her clothes in front of him. And
besides, Stuart had confided in her something deeply personal, something that
without her, he might’ve let fester and hinder his development in a
self-loathing manner. If she gives Stuart an outlet, she might save him from a
world of self-doubt and self-hatred later once his puberty really kicks into
high gear.
Besides. Stuart had just aced a test for the promise of her
feet. That just was too absurd not to entertain.
So, Ms. Chapman gulped, and she began to stretch her leg
out, sole-forward, in Stuart’s direction. It was a difficult maneuver to keep
her leg stable; Ms. Chapman wasn’t the most athletic woman, but she could hold
it for a little bit.
Stuart looked like he was on Cloud 9 as the foot inched ever
closer and closer, Ms. Chapman’s toes clenching and unclenching in the air
bubble before his face as the slightly acrid scent of her soft and moist and sweaty
pads wafted into his nose.
“How is it?” Ms. Chapman asked.
“Delectable…” Stuart replied.
Ms. Chapman laughed. “That’s a vocab word. You just got 5
points of extra credit.”
Stuart giggled, then reached up to wipe his glasses clean as
they collected with fog. Once that was done, the feet appeared in even more
crystalline definition than before. “C…can I… touch them?”
Ms. Chapman thought for a minute, then smiled. “You earned
it.”
Stuart could barely contain his elated cheer, but he
swallowed it. He lifted one hand to lift the foot up from her ankle like a
legendary grail, and Ms. Chapman sighed in relief. Her calf and thigh was
burning. Now that she had a bit of support, this would be much more bearable.
Stuart meanwhile was dancing his fingers delicately above
Ms. Chapman’s splayed toes, unsure, as though he were not worthy to interface
with these divine tootsies. He interlocked his short fingers amidst Ms.
Chapman’s toes, and a slightly truncated gasp escaped him. His heart was
pounding, and emotions he wasn’t entirely sure of were swirling in his stomach.
He tugged the foot a tad closer to him, pulling Ms. Chapman’s chair in his
direction. Ms. Chapman giggled, and she nodded.
Stuart took this as the go-ahead. So, he caressed the foot
with both hands, and he pressed it against his cheek.
Ms. Chapman felt the boy’s warmth through the sole of her
foot as he nuzzled it like a stuffed animal. She crossed her arms over herself
and got ever more comfortable in her chair, content with the knowledge that her
feet were quite literally in good hands. This was like nothing Ms. Chapman had
ever done, with a student or otherwise. She’d dated a few kinky men over the
years… and here was Stuart, giving her feet better attention and care than any
of those losers had ever given to a single part of her body. It felt as though
Stuart had truly become one with her foot, and it was enough to make Ms.
Chapman’s nails plunge into the armrest of her chair as she further sunk into
bliss. Her toes clenched in an involuntary, near-throbbing as her worship
continued, and they grabbed Stuart’s glasses by mistake for a moment.
“Oh, my bad!” she said, chuckling.
Stuart peeked his face from the foot, quite massive in
comparison to his boyish head. His hair was disheveled, and his face was a bit
wet. “Did you say something?” Ms. Chapman could tell every moment he looked at
her was killing him as he awaited the chance to return to her feet. So she
simply smiled and waved him to continue, an invitation he took with gusto.
He rubbed the slightly-damp underside of his teacher’s foot
across his face and forehead, giving it butterfly kisses that reposited
near-infinitesimal droplets of her sweat on his eyelashes. Each breath he took
through his nose felt like a gift that imparted into him divine inspiration.
And when it became too much to resist, Stuart couldn’t help but pucker his lips
and plant his mouth on the ball of Ms. Chapman’s foot, giving them a great,
big, squelching kiss.
“Ahhhh…” breathed Ms. Chapman. She could get used to
this. But the fun had all but been had. “I think that’s enough for now,
sweetie.”
With puppy-like acquiescence, Stuart removed his face from
Ms. Chapman’s sole, allowing her to retract her leg and let it once again rest
on the edge of the seat. “S-sorry…” he said, staring at the ground again,
though conspicuously away from where his teacher’s feet would’ve been.
“Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about. That was…” Ms.
Chapman trailed off. She feared the consequences if he repeated to anyone that
a teacher told him that was the hottest thing I’d ever done with anyone.
“That was a delight. You were gentle, and I have to believe
you must have experience with worship– ah, uh, I mean, rubbing feet.” Saved it.
“No, not at all,” Stuart said, finally ready to meet his
teacher’s gaze. She was smiling, and that made him happy. “It was my first
time!”
“Well, if you don’t end up becoming a rocket scientist or an
engineer like I’m sure you will, know you have a very bright future in being my
personal foot rubber.” Ms. Chapman reached out and plucked at one of
Stuart’s cheeks, making him blush. She grinned and scooted the chair back
behind her desk as she put on her heels.
“If only the rest of the class were so easily motivated…”
The anxieties that put her in this position had returned. Ms. Chapman had
managed to help the student who arguably needed help the least, but that
left 20 other young boys and girls who were struggling, possibly beyond repair.
Stuart watched Ms. Chapman return to her computer and enter
grades, and he had an epiphany. Now feeling just a bit more confident to
potentially speak out of turn, Stuart said, “Well, maybe they are.”
Ms. Chapman turned to him quizzically. “Why would you think
that?” Then she gasped. “Do the other students talk about me? What do they
say?” Ms. Chapman only barely stopped herself before her childlike propensity
for gossip possessed her.
“Nothing, really,” Stuart admitted. “But I do see them
watching you… sometimes… but… I don’t know. I don’t really talk to most other
students.”
“Ah,” said Ms. Chapman. “Well then. You should have just
enough time to grab a bite from the cafeteria. If you run. Go on,” she said,
waving him away.
Now that his more primal urges had been sated, Stuart
suddenly realized how hungry he truly was. “Ah, right!” He got up and trotted
to the door. “Oh, and Ms. Chapman? I see how often you take off your shoes in
class… think you could, maybe… maybe…”
Ms. Chapman looked at him slyly. “Yes, I will.”
Stuart’s smile turned into a beam.
“Have a good lunch,” Ms. Chapman said, and the young one
darted out the door, leaving Ms. Chapman all alone in her room until the class
returned.
Ms. Chapman reclined as far back as she could, feeling an
itch of some sort on her feet. These shoes were feeling more and more like
weapons by the day. She shook them off, allowing both to clamber to the ground
with dual clacks! Unencumbered, she raised her feet, allowing them to
rest, ankles crossed, on her mousepad as her head rested in the cushiony fabric
of the chair.
She’d managed to get to the bottom of one student, but the
rest of them would be more of a challenge.
End Notes:
And that's that! What does this foretell for our Stuart and Ms. Chapman? Find out... soon! Or, find out now by supporting me on Patreon.com/2kfsk ! I treasure any support I get and it is a tremendous blessing, which includes reviews and comments as well.Thank you for reading!
Tuesday
Ms. Chapman shook her head as she scrawled another red mark
on the test. She’d managed to get through to one of her students, but the rest
of the class was still frustratingly outside of her reach. She never expected
Megan to be a star student – the girl was tall, brazen, and pushy. A bit of a
bully more wont to use her fists to solve problems than her head. But she’d at
least hoped that she’d be… somewhat competent by the end of the semester.
Ms. Chapman sighed, and she glanced to the clock and – it
was a quarter ‘til 5 already? Goodness gracious. Ms. Chapman had been so
absorbed in her revisions she hadn’t noticed the time go by; if she wanted it
back home in time to get ready for her date she might have to skip going to the
grocery store. Resolving to finish grading later that night, Ms. Chapman
collected the stack in a single ream and scooted out from her chair, planting
her bare feet on the ground.
True to her promise, the schoolteacher began to walk about
the classroom barefoot, with only her and Stuart the wiser. She’d noticed his
watchful gaze whenever she journeyed across the room to help one of his
classmates, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was going through that brain
of his when he laid eyes on her moisturized, aged, leathery feet. What was it
about them that attracted him so?
But Ms. Chapman wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the
mouth. True to his promise, Stuart’s homework had been flawless, and his
other in-class assignments were pristine. He was doing just as well as Ms.
Chapman had come to expect of him, and she had little reason to believe that
would change. It was a small beacon of light in an otherwise upsetting
situation. Now, as she slipped on her shoes, put on her coat, and walked to the
door, she could only pray the rest of her –
Knock, knock, knock…
Ms. Chapman’s hand paused in its journey to the doorhandle.
Then, curiously, she opened it a smidge, revealing not a fellow teacher or
administrator but…
“Megan?!” Ms. Chapman tried to swallow her shock, but
of all students, she was the least likely Ms. Chapman expected to visit her
after class. Megan was almost as tall as Ms. Chapman was, with long legs that
made her the perfect captain for the junior cheerleading team. Her lovely
mahogany-colored skin was without flaw, and her bountiful curls of dark brown hair
would’ve made any boy swoon. She would be quite the catch, had she not a rather
aggressive and somewhat mean streak.
Megan didn’t respond, simply shoving past Ms. Chapman and
into the classroom. Yet, she wasn’t alone. Megan had Kim Lee in tow, a reserved
young lady with straight black shoulder-cut hair who tended to keep to herself.
Despite this, she seemed to have drawn the short straw in being Megan’s chew
toy for the week. Kim Lee also had two left feet, and nearly slipped and dragged
Megan down to the ground, eliciting an evil glare from the taller girl before
the two were properly situated inside the classroom. They faced their teacher.
Megan spoke for them. “We want to talk to you.”
Ms. Chapman scraped the side of her leg with her shoe. “Ah,
girls, I’m about to leave right now. Can it wait for tomorrow?”
Megan side-eyed Kim Lee, and she broke into a devilish
smile. “No, it can’t.”
“Well, I’m afraid it must,” said Ms. Chapman, preparing to
leave them in the room on their own. “I have a date at 6, so I need to be home
in time to –”
“I was playing a game of Truth or Dare with Kimmy,
here…” Megan yanked Kim’s arm. Kim acquiesced, simply staring at the floor
bashfully. “… who told me that she was in love with you. And couldn’t be
without you.”
This was enough to raise Ms. Chapman’s eyebrows. Even if it
was coming from a bully, the idea of two separate students confessing their
love to Ms. Chapman one day after another was a statistical anomaly.
“Isn’t that right, Kim?” Megan prodded.
Kim nodded shamefully.
“Ha, right!” Megan jeered. “So, Ms. C. What’re you gonna do
about it?”
Ms. Chapman looked at the both of them, and she closed the
door quietly. “Well, Kim. I’m flattered. Sincerely.” She sidled back to her
desk chair, seating herself within it. Kim’s eyes were drawn to her. “But I’m
afraid I’m just too old to be in a relationship with you, sweetheart.” Ms.
Chapman reached down to remove one shoe, placing it on her desk. Then the
other.
Ms. Chapman leered, swinging her feet back and forth. And
Megan’s eyes shifted, one-two, one-two, in perfect harmony.
It was an odd prediction, Ms. Chapman thought. But, could it
be…?
“That being said…” Ms. Chapman purred. She batted her eyes at the olive-skinned lady.
“I’ve never been one to deny a gift from my students. Being on my feet has been
quite a slog of late, and it would make me quite happy if you could ‘help’ with
that. Unless you don’t think you’re up for it.” Ms. Chapman winked.
Kim’s gaze rose, as did her thin eyebrows. Megan looked down
at her incredulously.
Ms. Chapman propped her ankle on her knee and scrunched her
toes. “I’m waiting.”
Reverently, Kim broke her arm from Megan’s meager grip and
fell to her knees, crawling forward and reaching out to grab Ms. Chapman’s
exposed foot.
“Ah, ah, just one moment. Before you start… you need to
promise me one thing.”
Kim gave an excited nod. Ms. Chapman could almost see the
drool pooling in her mouth.
“You need to get an A on tomorrow’s pop quiz. Because if you
don’t… I’ll never let you anywhere close to my feet again.”
Something in that threat made a pained expression flash
across Kim’s face, and for a moment, even Ms. Chapman feared she herself might
burst into vicarious tears. Either way, Kim gave another yanking nod.
“Alright, baby…” And Ms. Chapman offered her foot to Kim,
who immediately set to rubbing the outstretched object of her affection. Her
hands were daintier than Stuart’s, and this made it tickle just a tad bit.
But once Ms. Chapman got used to the sensation, she couldn’t stop the
involuntary sighs from leaking out, even as Megan stared down at the scene,
dumbstruck.
“You know,” Ms. Chapman turned to Megan, leaving Kim
obediently to her work. “You don’t have to stay here.”
“I… I-I-I–”
“You know…” Ms. Chapman dragged out sultrily as she
put a finger on her cheek. “I have another foot. If you’d like. You could
be my second little foot rubber for the evening.”
“A-ah, uh,” Megan stuttered. “God, no! What the hell…?”
Ms. Chapman shrugged. “Fine by me.” She let out a soft moan.
When she looked down, Kim had just laid a kiss on Ms. Chapman’s toes. “You can
leave, now,” she said, jerking her chin in Megan’s direction.
“F-fine!” Megan shouted, stomping away and putting her hand
on the door. She turned the handle, then looked back. An unimpeachable smile
was spreading across Ms. Chapman’s face as Kim’s kisses became more frequent
and inadvertent. The girl was on autopilot, and Ms. Chapman was loving every
moment of it.
Megan’s twitched, rattling the doorknob. She grit her teeth
and turned back to the door. Then she turned back to Ms. Chapman. Then back to
the door. She turned it a few degrees… then she stomped back, silently,
lustfully dropping to her knees, but once again Ms. Chapman would make Megan
wait before she could claim her prize.
“Now, before we do… I have a few stipulations,” Ms. Chapman
said.
Megan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, get an A or
whatever.” She tried to bury her face in Ms. Chapman’s other foot but was
knocked away with a slight kick to the nose. Megan gave her teacher a toxic
glare.
“That’s not all, Megan. See, you’ve been quite disruptive to
my class… oh…” Ms. Chapman let out another moan. Kim was really getting
into it; her face was flushed. Ms. Chapman bet she couldn’t even hear this
conversation anymore. “And in addition to giving your all on the
assignments, all I ask in return is that you…” Ms. Chapman playfully scrunched
Megan’s nose with her toes. “… stop being such a bully. Stop being so pushy,
and don’t force anyone to do what they don’t want to do.”
Megan was livid. She was being asked to give up her entire
way of life! “Fuck, no!” she said, crossing her arms.
Ms. Chapman rolled her eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. “Oh,
Megan, Megan, Megan… I’m afraid it’s not up to you.” She wagged her foot in an
arc in front of Megan’s face. Megan’s defiant eyes followed it; by the time she
figured out what she was doing, Ms. Chapman already had all the information she
needed.
“God, what’re you trying to do?!” Megan exclaimed.
“Just trying to make you understand. You need these feet,
don’t you…?”
Megan was silent, but her lip was quivering. Ms. Chapman put
her toes even closer to Megan’s face, but never touching. The gentle scent was seeping
into Megan’s nose… it made her eyes water. But not from the smell.
Megan sniffed. “P-please…?”
Ms. Chapman shook her head. “Not until you swear to them.”
“I SWEAR, JESUS CHRIST!” Megan shrieked. Ms. Chapman
hadn’t even the change to nod in assent by the time Megan slammed her face into
Ms. Chapman’s feet, drawing her tongue across the sole in long strokes as she
moaned in desolate euphoria. Kim was as obedient and tweedy as ever, but Megan
was aggressively servile.
Ms. Chapman thought it was great having one of her students
serving her. But having two? The trio allowed silence to caress them,
silent except for the lustful moans that inadvertently escaped them all.
It did not stop until Ms. Chapman felt a vibration in her
coat pocket. A phone call.
“One second, girls,” Ms. Chapman said, scooting away. Her
heart broke at Kim’s face; Megan meanwhile simply panted as she waited
patiently for the return of Ms. Chapman’s foot.
Ms. Chapman answered the call. “Hello?”
Her face scrunched up.
Ms. Chapman’s eyes glanced over the clock quickly, fearful
of what she’d see. But she’d seen enough to know they’d been at this for nearly
two hours.
As the man yelling at the phone increased his volume… Ms.
Chapman simply snapped her phone shut, giving the confused students an awkward
smile. “I think that’s about enough for today…” Ms. Chapman grabbed her shoes
and put them on, feeling the girls’ saliva that had accrued on her soles squish
within the footwear. “The both of you did a marvelous job. And if you can keep
your grades up, I think we’ll have a bright future ahead of us.”
Megan and Kim both stood to their feet, dejected yet
understanding. Ms. Chapman smiled, then gave another commandment. “Oh, and,
this is going to be our little secret, right?”
“Psh… Sure, whatever,” Megan drolled. Kim nodded like a manic
chicken.
“Wonderful. Have a nice walk home!” Ms. Chapman said,
opening the door for them to exit. They did, still trying to catch glimpses of
Ms. Chapman’s feet even within those shoes, only stopping once they were across
the threshold.
Slam!
Ms. Chapman was alone again. She collapsed into her chair.
Jesus, that was incredible…
But more than that, it was inexplicable. Why… what? How… she
had been so lost in the moment, she didn’t realize how utterly ridiculous the
entire situation was. She’d somehow convinced the both of them to worship her
feet… well, there was no convincing required. They were the ones who
needed her feet, and Ms. Chapman was more than happy to give them to the girls.
But, why? Why were her students so in love with her feet?
Well, at that, Ms. Chapman scoffed. Sure, a couple of
students had a bit of a fixation. That was a bit weird, but it wasn’t as though
every student in her homeroom class was obsessed with her soles.
End Notes:
This is currently the latest-released chapter of this story, so lucky you! However, if you want to be up to date on all your favorite stories of mine, join the Patreon! I always post the newest chapters there first, and you might find plenty of other diverse stories which cannot (currently) be found anywhere else online! Plus, it'd make me really happy. Thanks!
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Author's Notes:
So a few students are addicted to Ms. Chapman's feet, that happens all the time. But our beloved schoolmarm is about to find out just how deep the cult of her feet really goes... the question is, will she be onboard?
Wednesday
“I trust your pencils are all sharpened?” Ms. Chapman asked.
She was seated on top of her desk with her hands clasped together, facing a
group of twenty students. As she’d been for the past two days, her feet were
bare, and this time they were swinging back and forth with leisure, her heels
bumping into the mahogany of her desk.
Each child had three items on his or her desk: a sheet of
paper, a pencil, and a rubber eraser. Ms. Chapman observed a few of her
children as they fidgeted, but the class appeared ready. She nodded, and she
unclasped her hands and reached across the desk to snatch the remote from
beside her computer. Soon, the ActivBoard behind her flashed to display the
quiz subject, the rules, and the time limit.
“You will have fifteen minutes. When I start the timer, the
questions will appear on the board. You must answer them True or False,
and if you answer False you must explain using full sentences why. Am I
clear?”
The class made a casual murmur of agreement. Ms. Chapman
looked out over the students, and she caught Megan, eyes trained on the
instructor’s feet like a predator stalking her prey. Kim Lee looked so fixated
she almost wondered if the girl was paying attention. And of course, little
Stuart. All were in different places amongst the classroom, and yet all of them
were focused on her feet.
Still though, they weren’t the only ones.
It wasn’t everyone. Of that Ms. Chapman could be sure. But
there was a non-insignificant amount of students peppered around the class who
seemed to be taking glances at the teacher’s swinging feet. Some were even
taking long looks, drinking up their bareness as they hung in the air. Her
wiggling toes, her slightly-dusty soles, her smooth and bulbous heel, her
protruding ankle, each ministration of her foot seemed to alter the feel of the
class ever so slightly, and Ms. Chapman was definitely jacked into it. Sitting
on her desk wasn’t exactly new, but this combined with her new perpetual lack
of footwear during class was an unlikely boon for a few students. In the rest,
it gave rise to mystifying emotions that the kids didn’t fully understand.
Ms. Chapman herself didn’t know how to feel. She was
confused, perplexed, heck, even gobsmacked by it all. And yet, there was
something nice about being desired. She’d had luck with some of her other
students right now, and luck was definitely something she needed when it came
to training these kids, many of whom were located far below the center of the
school’s bell curve when it came to grades. If she could perhaps entrance the
entire class… use their infatuation as a tool… use her feet as the means by which
she could control them… turn them into the perfect slav– students. The perfect
students. That’s what she meant… the perfect…
Someone coughed. Apparently, Ms. Chapman had been in thought
for a while. She shook her head meekly. “V-very well then. And just so you
know, once I’ve graded them, I’ll have a special surprise for those who get an
A. So do your best, and that might be you!”
She looked at her students again. There was another cough.
Ms. Chapman gave a nervous smile as she fiddled with the
remote. “Anyway, begin!” And the timer started.
Ten questions appeared on the board. Ms. Chapman remained
seated on the desk, her gaze high and mighty as she surveyed her domain. The
three students who’d confided in her their secret desires took a moment to tear
their eyes away from their teacher. They wanted her feet of course, and they
knew they could have it and more. But they had to suffer through being away
from them and focus here on the quiz. It was a series of questions about the
literary works they’d analyzed over the past few weeks. Shakespeare, Harper
Lee, William Golding, and a couple of short stories. It was a somewhat broad
selection, but the questions were such that anyone who paid attention to the
reading would be able to deduce the answers without too much trouble.
Indeed. It shouldn’t be hard. Yet the past three quizzes of
a similar nature Ms. Chapman had given were Cs and Ds across the board without
a vowel in sight. Ms. Chapman had been doing her best since then, but aside
from Stuart she hadn’t seen much improvement at all.
Ms. Chapman let out a heavy sigh, then transitioned it into
a short humming rhythm to keep the students from cluing into her burgeoning
melancholy. She scooted off her makeshift throne and chagrined at the cold
touch of the floor on her bare feet. They pattered as she returned to her desk
and sat in her chair, waiting for the timer to run out.
“Seven minutes everyone,” she called. Pencils scraped over
paper. Some students were erasing aggressively. Others appeared to have
finished already. As always, Ms. Chapman could tell which students would do
poorly and which who would do… slightly less poorly. More of the same, that’s
always what happened. The life of an educator.
“Three minutes left…”
She propped her foot on her knee and dragged her manicured
nails along the soles with just enough gentleness not to tickle. These were the
feet that had been worshiped by her students twice in less than two days. What
was it about them? Ms. Chapman was a woman who tried her best to be hygienic,
clean, attractive, and set an example for her students. At the same time, she’d
never dressed in a manner that was provocative or meant to titillate. Her
younger co-workers and older students have described Ms. Chapman’s manner of
dress as “librarian-core”, which was apt, of course, but for a woman who did on
occasion want to be seen as sexy and attractive, it stung. Whatever her feet
did to these kids, that was a result of her feet alone.
A cartoon bomb sound effect went off.
“Pencils down!”
All writing stopped. By that point, only a few were still
working on the assignment. They hastily crossed their last Ts and Fs just in
time for Ms. Chapman to leap from her seat and march to collect them herself,
swiping them from the helpless students who had yet to check their work.
Cursory glances at the top slices of quizzes showed there was little variation
in the True or False answers, though she’d have to dig deeper in the short
answers to have an idea of what the standard deviation of the quiz scores were.
Ms. Chapman slid into her desk, depriving a view of her feet
from all except those closest to the front of her class. She chuckled grimly to
herself, thinking, Yeah, right. As though these kids cared about her,
and her feet less so.
But anyway. She set about the work of grading these papers,
primed for disappointment. True (correct). True (correct). False… She skimmed
the explanation and determined it was also correct. True (correct)…
…
…
***
Megan was used to being pulled aside from class and spoken
to by the instructor one-on-one, usually in the wake of her pushing, punching,
scratching, or biting another student (always provoked).
Stuart, in his own way, was no stranger to receiving special
commendation from a teacher in a solo environment.
Neither would be offended if they heard the other say they
never would’ve imagined seeing each other in this scenario they so often found
themselves in. But when Ms. Chapman finished grading her papers, she sheepishly
looked amongst the class and requested that Stuart and Megan (and also Kim Lee)
wait outside the classroom for a few moments.
So, the three students looked at one another for as long as
they could before averting their gazes to the floor and shuffling in place.
Stuart was mostly baffled Megan hadn’t made a joke at the expense of his
glasses or his hair. Kim was just happy to be included.
The door suddenly opened, and all three students stood at
attention as Ms. Chapman slid out. Kim rose a brow as she observed her
teacher’s face; she looked more nervous than she felt. Which was, perpetually,
an above-average amount. Ms. Chapman pulled the door shut and leaned back
against it as if to catch her breath. Stuart’s eyes seemed to glimmer as he
noticed her feet were, as promised, still quite bare.
When nobody spoke, Megan decided on a far too conversational
icebreaker, “So, what’s good?”
Ms. Chapman seemed not to notice or care for Megan’s lack of
code switching. She let out a breath and stood up straight while flattening out
some wrinkles from her blouse. “Yes, of course. Ah, well, children… it would
seem I have a bit of a problem.”
Kim looked as though she’d been hit by an invisible bullet.
Megan tried to act cool, but even she couldn’t hide the sullen glance that
flashed over her expression. Stuart was the first to ask what his classmates
were surely thinking. “So… we didn’t do so well on the quiz… I guess?”
Ms. Chapman looked truly baffled. It was almost scary. “What?”
After startling the kids, the echo bounced down the hall.
Another teacher poked their head out of a far-off classroom. Ms. Chapman
suddenly realized this was less than a private meeting space.
Ms. Chapman crouched slightly and said in a far lowered
volume, “What?” The students seemed to take the hint, and they all
stepped in a bit closer to her huddle. “No, quite the opposite. In fact… you
three all made As.”
Kim and Stuart both lit up. Megan almost stumbled, and she
shouted, “BITCH, I–”
Megan caught herself. The other three were staring at her.
Megan cleared her throat. “I-I meant… yeah. It’s all good.”
Ms. Chapman counted off five seconds to make sure nobody
else tried to peek into their audience. “Well yes, but my problem is… so did
everyone else. By which I mean, somehow the entire class received an A.”
Kim Lee went agape. Stuart raised an eyebrow. Megan gave her
trademark glare, and she said, “Seriously?”
Ms. Chapman nodded. “Indeed. 90s and 95s across the board.
Except for you three, that is, who all received perfect scores.” She winked,
and all three kids blushed. “Now, my problem. I said beforehand that students
who scored an A would receive a prize. I happened to have a few gifts kicking
around in my desk drawer just in case…” She reached into a pocket and pulled
out a wrinkled handful of individually-wrapped candies. After blowing off the
dust bunnies, she brandished them to the group of three. “…but it appears I
underestimated you kids! I barely have enough prizes to reward even a handful
of students, much less the entire class!” Ms. Chapman gave a frustrated, fleshy
stamp on the floor.
She waited for the students’ response. When it was not
forthcoming, Ms. Chapman said, “Hello? You’re listening to me, right?”
Neither Stuart nor Kim Lee had been listening. Their
attention had been pulled downward, which Ms. Chapman had frankly come to
expect. Megan on the other hand looked at her teacher dumbfounded. “You’re…
kidding, right? Your plan was to reward us with… Jolly Ranchers?”
Ms. Chapman chagrined. “Haven’t I already made it clear I
don’t joke about these matters?! If you three can help me come up with some
kind of reward for the class, I would be grateful. Something you know that your
friends will like, but it has to be something I can provide on short notice.
So, no pizza parties, ice cream socials, nothing like that.”
Megan looked at Ms. Chapman. Then she looked to Stuart and
Kim, still quite hypnotized. She looked back to Ms. Chapman.
Megan shrugged. She grabbed Ms. Chapman’s hand and pulled
her back into the classroom with much protest. “Ah, ach, Megan! Unhand me!”
Stuart and Kim followed slavishly, not really caring about the circumstances of
their return.
Megan shoved her teacher into the room before she closed and
locked the door. Then she called out, “Alright everyone!”
The meandering conversation halted at once in the face of
Megan’s authoritative yell. Just as planned. Megan grabbed Ms. Chapman’s arm
again, and gently coaxed the flustered teacher to once again clamber upon her
desk. She returned her attention to the class.
“So! It seems Ms. Chapman was so baffled by our performance
in this latest quiz, she’s become speechless! Is that right, teach?”
Ms. Chapman: “Ah, well –”
“See!?” Megan interjected. “Totally stupe… stupef… confused.
Because every single one of you got an A!”
This electrified the uninspired chitchat. Megan gave Ms.
Chapman a quick wink before addressing the class again.
“That being said… I’m sure everyone in this classroom is
excited to receive their prize…” Megan shot a look in Kim and Stuart’s
direction. They stood their silently until Megan injected that look with the
usual fear she imparted in those who spoke to her. That seemed to do the trick,
and the two kids suddenly got to work behind Ms. Chapman’s desk, doing
something she could not quite see out of her peripheral vision. Ms. Chapman was
far more interested in what was going on in front of her anyway; Megan had crouched
down, her hands traveling about the side of Ms. Chapman’s calf, her shin,
lifting her left foot up by the ankle and brandishing it out for the rest of
the class.
All talking ceased.
“You get what I’m saying here?” Megan whispered. Everyone
heard her.
Up above, amongst the crowds. Boys and girls alike were
greeted with a vision of Ms. Chapman’s foot. Her toes curled and opened; the
draft chilled them, and the ensuing breeze carried the flavor of her feet back
out amongst the students. The hardy scent of her feet was absorbed into each
tween’s nose. Ms. Chapman truly was speechless… she could see in their eyes.
Those closest to her feet in the frontmost rows, their eyes were already
glassy, glazed over. Habib, Priti, Justin, Tanya, Omar… all of them were under
a spell. It was at the back of the class that things were getting wonky. The
kids seemed to be blinking, shaking their heads, slapping at their temples.
They couldn’t understand what was going on, why they felt this way.
A blonde, pigtailed girl from the rear suddenly stood up.
Gigi. “I, uh, have to go to the nurse’s office.”
Gigi clambered through the desks, racing, hunting for the
door as quick as she could. But the closer she got, the closer she came to Ms.
Chapman’s feet. Soon, she didn’t even realize she’d changed course. She was
heading straight for Ms. Chapman’s sole, and she buried her face in it as
though it were the last pond of water in the scorching desert. “Ahhhhhh…” Her
moans and groans were muffled by her teacher’s thick, pillowy foot flesh.
Ms. Chapman was aghast. She scooted back, and her tailbone
hit something hard. She turned, and here she realized exactly what it was Kim
and Stuart were up to. They’d constructed a headrest out of spare textbooks
from the front shelves, and they were just about to drape Ms. Chapman’s coat
over it when the teacher bumped into the construction and very nearly toppled
their hard work. Stuart had to grab the trembling tower with both arms to avoid
catastrophe. Kim Lee shot her own mean glare in Ms. Chapman’s direction… she
hadn’t even known Kim was capable of making such a face.
“Go ahead!” Megan continued her act and goaded Gigi on,
tugging playfully at one of her pigtails. “This is your prize, you earned it!”
“I… earned this…!” Gigi huffed, planting kiss after
kiss upon Ms. Chapman’s sole. Somehow, she was a better little worshipper than
Kim Lee, but not quite as good as Megan or Stuart.
Ms. Chapman was still struggling to understand what was
going on. But when Stuart and Kim Lee both took her shoulders, inviting her to
lay her head back, she didn’t refuse. She scooched gently up the desk, putting
almost her entire body upon the surface. Both feet were free to wiggle their
toes, and Gigi had almost had her fill. Her face was wet with the remnants of
Ms. Chapman’s own sweat, in addition to the moist smooches she gave to her
teacher’s wondrous soles. Finally, as a finale, Gigi planted a loud, moaning
kiss against the ball of Ms. Chapman’s foot.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”
It seemed to keep going and going. Ms. Chapman wanted to
look up and see what was happening, but Stuart and Kim Lee insisted she relax.
Gigi continued her smooch. Her face was turning red, sweat droplets were
running down her temple. Until…
“…mmmmmmmUAH!”
The kiss was complete. Gigi fell to the ground, her tiny
torso rising and falling with the heartbeat of a squirrel.
Megan looked down at Gigi’s sleeping form. Then she looked
up at the astounded class. “Well, looks like she enjoyed her reward. Raise your
hand if you’re ready for your prize next.”
Every hand in the class went up.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.