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Foreword: We’re back. Welcome, degenerates. In this, Becca’s torment leans back towards feet, but with much greater intensity. For those of you who preferred the first to the second installment, I think you’ll very much enjoy this.
Chapter 4: The Forfeits
As afternoon rolled by on the second day, Becca was loitering in the kitchen – boredom was gnawing away at her, but she didn’t feel comfortable just going to ask if she could hang out with them. She didn’t want to look lame to Tara, or desperate for Eliza.
So she hoped eventually one of them might come into the kitchen and ask her to hang out. It wasn’t much of a plan, but there really wasn’t that much to do elsewise.
It wasn’t going great.
Eventually, she heard the voices of the girls, raised in excitement and faux indignation.
“You bet your big ass I’m gonna win.” Came Eliza’s voice.
There was a girlish gasp of offense, followed by Tara’s reply. “Oh you’ve asked for it.”
The possibility of something to occupy her mind broke her resolve, Becca quickly made her way to the living room and stood by the door to see the two girls standing in the open space they had made in the living room the night prior, facing off with a pink pillow in their hands – brandished like weapons.
Eliza was wearing dark short-shorts, a white tee shirt and flip flops on her bare, red-nailed feet. She had her chestnut brown hair in a messy bun. Tara was no longer in her volleyball uniform. She also wore shorts, but a more boyish jogging-style, and a vest top that held her modestly sized, beautifully perky boobs – without a bra, Becca noticed.
The two seemed to be too focused on their duel to comment on her arrival, so she folded her arms across her chest and watched in fascination.
Eliza lunged forward, swinging her pillow wide as if to break Tara in half. The bigger, more athletic girl body checked her with the pillow and knocked her back a pace. Then Tara bonked her on the head – a lovetap, to show she could, but that she didn’t feel the need to make it quick.
Eliza seemed to get flustered, because she went for another all out swing. Tara ducked the swing and sent back three of her own, one to the legs – a back swing to the hip and another across the shoulder. Becca couldn’t help but grin and giggle, enjoying seeing her sister lose at something – especially because she’d taken Tara and herself away last night because Becca hadn’t bowed to her wishes.
Tara looked like a warrior queen; beautiful, muscular legs, all composure and confidence, blonde hair in a wild tumble down her shoulders. Eliza tried a third time, much more tentatively, it seemed she had learned to respect Tara’s clear upper hand. That seemed to be all Tara was looking for. With a swipe of her own she knocked Eliza’s pillow to the ground and buffeted her across the head – knocking her sprawling onto the couch.
The blonde preened, chin up in the air. “Looks like I’ll be getting all the massages I want for the rest of the weekend!”
Eliza seemed to be gathering her wits when Tara finally gave Becca a welcoming smile. “Hi Bec’. You want to try?
Despite the show of force Tara had put on, Becca decided getting hit by a pillow wasn’t that scary – even losing to Tara seemed like it would be fun. Eliza looked to be okay at least, now fixing her hair that had been knocked around. Becca nodded excitedly.
Tara swept her hand towards Eliza’s discarded pillow, like a master duelist inviting another opponent to the ring. Becca picked it up.
“What’s the forfeit?” Eliza asked from the couch. Becca looked at her, unsure of the meaning, and looked to Tara for an explanation. Tara cocked one hand on her hip and held her pillow out as she gestured, as if confiding a trade secret to Becca.
“We don’t just play for the sake of it, it’s no fun that way – there has to be a reason to want to win. Or at least, not lose.” She motioned to Eliza.
“Your sister just won the honour of giving me a massage whenever I want for the rest of the weekend.” Becca grinned, revelling in her sister’s loss. Tara seemed to be in thought for a moment before she declared, “The loser can’t use their hands for anything for the whole day. If you have to do something, you gotta use your mouth! And, if you forget and start with your hands, you gotta stop and do it again.”
Becca laughed, it was an absurd consequence, but even that seemed like it would be amusing. She didn’t challenge the forfeit, it was Tara’s game and she wanted to seem cool to her, especially after last night.
“En guarde!” She declared, raising her pillow.
Tara did the same, and they moved to battle. Tara was a good natured opponent sparring with a novice. She toyed around with Becca, letting her get a hit in or two, not punishing her too harshly – Becca’s adrenaline was pumping and her excitement overran what had been her reservation with enjoying something kind of childish.
Finally, Tara finished her off by pummelling her cumlouder porno into the couch with a flurry of light blows, the two of them giggling the whole while. “Surrender!” She demanded, focusing the hits on Becca’s head. She resisted half-heartedly before giving in with an exhausted sigh of contentment.
Tara pumped her arms in the air and gloated for a minute before saying, “You’re pretty good for a first-timer.” Becca actually felt herself blush at the comment, and found herself really actually coming to like Tara. She was so much nicer than other popular girls she had met in her time at school – even being older than her didn’t make Becca feel awkward for wanting to be her friend.
“You might even be better than ‘liza.”
Becca couldn’t help herself, wanting to get in on the teasing. She looked at Eliza, and had to consider that she had done way better against Tara than Eliza had. “You got your butt whooped so bad.”
Eliza scrunched her face up and quickly retorted, “I could still beat you.” She sounded heated, and Becca rose to the challenge. “Naaaaah, Tara’s right – I’m way stronger.”
Eliza stood up, shrugging at the comment and grabbing Tara’s pillow. “Alright newbie, you want some?”
Becca stood back up, grinning as Tara cheered like a Roman Emperor from the couch.
“Loser’s gambit – double or nothing!”
Becca looked back to Tara, unsure of the meaning again. Eliza helpfully explained, dropping the sour-puss act for a moment. “Loser gets their own forfeit and the winners.”
“Oh.” It didn’t matter, she was pretty confident she would beat her more slender, and younger sister.
They both readied up, Becca began to assemble a plan of attack using all she had picked up from her last bout. Tara lifted a hand and said, “Go!”
The moment Tara’s arm swung down, Eliza flicked her foot forward. The flip flop sailed across the span between them and struck Becca in the shin. It didn’t hurt much at all, but the sudden blow caught her off guard and she glanced down to see what had even struck her.
Eliza swept her pillow up, single armed and clocked Becca in the face. Becca staggered, startled that a pillow could be swung with such force. She suddenly had a greater respect for her petite sister, once her marbles had stopped rattling. Eliza’s aggressive style didn’t deviate.
The younger sibling followed up with a body shot that Becca managed to block, using her pillow as a shield, but Eliza’s back swing caught her in the head again.
Becca staggered against the couch, bracing against it for support. Eliza barreled into her, pillow-checking her over the futon, onto the cushions on the ground, where she began raining savage blows at any exposed target. The relentless assault quickly brought about an, “Uncle! Uncle!”
Eliza tossed her weapon aside, hands on her hips, grinning like she had never lost at all. It took a few moments for Becca to collect herself after that beating, and she looked upon her sister with raised eyebrows – she had underestimated her, and was even a little impressed. Eliza wasn’t an athlete, she was girly – Becca was no Tara, but she still did okay in sports.
“Wow, Eliza. Maybe I underestimated you.”
Eliza bowed, all good graces and modesty now that she had established her dominance. “Thank you.” Then the brunette sat on the couch. Once the excitement was gone, and they could catch their breath, Becca was contemplating if it would be cool to ask if she could hang out, when Eliza spoke.
“Sis, could you pass me my flip flop?” Her gaze told Becca it was just off to her right. Despite the savagery of her win, Eliza hadn’t been rude at all, so Becca nodded cordially and grabbed the footwear.
“Ah-ah-ah!” Eliza said, in a sing-song voice.
Becca looked confused. Then Eliza tapped her own mouth with a devilish smile.
“Ewww, no way!”
Tara crossed her arms over her chest. “That wasn’t the deal, Bec’. You started, you gotta do it with your mouth.” Becca looked to the other blonde, hoping for some last minute mercy, but the two girls were unmoving. She could refuse, but after last night she was under no illusion she would not be hanging out with the two again, and the boredom of earlier yawned like a chasm that she dared not return.
She put the flip flop down and leaned over, hearing the tittered laughs behind her. She grasped the rope that would go over the foot between her teeth and crawled – no point wasting energy standing up – the short distance over to Eliza on the couch. As she neared, Eliza lifted her bare leg and pointed her toes at Becca, like she was Cinderella waiting for the glass slipper.
Becca gave her a rueful look that screamed, “get real” but Eliza’s smile grew more teasing – she wiggled her scarlet-painted toes in anticipation. Despite being the butt of the joke, Becca could see the humour in it, and she wanted Tara to see she wasn’t gonna be a spoilsport, so she wrestled her pride czech amateurs porno and approached the foot of her sister.
It smelled better than yesterday, which was a thing she hated she knew. She deftly swept the flip flop onto her foot, inadvertently dragging her nose and lips across the top of her sister’s toes and over her instep. They had the slight hint of sweat and a cheese like odour, but it was faint – she must’ve showered between the last time Becca had to endure her foot smell. The footwear actually went on quite easily, she sure as hell wasn’t going to make sure it went between Eliza’s toes.
“Thaaaaaanks.” Her sister sung. Becca wanted to shove her foot away, a little humiliated at the teasing after she had played into the joke, but remembered not to – she would have to use her mouth to shove her! This would be harder than she thought. Just gotta remember and not start anything I don’t want in my mouth.
Tara laughed at the whole display, but switched the TV on without making it more embarrassing. Becca was glad Tara wasn’t the type to continue teasing too hard. She came up to her feet and sat between them on the couch, seeing some vapid reality TV show.
Becca was never the type to enjoy them, that was more Eliza’s deal. She enjoyed things with a bit more substance. She would’ve teased Eliza about it, maybe called her dumb, but Tara had put it on so she held her comment.
It wasn’t very interesting, and she didn’t know who any of these people were, so it was hard to catch on. After a few minutes, Tara side-eyed her. “Don’t get too comfortable, missy.”
Becca quirked an eyebrow, “Huh?”
Tara smiled languidly, even tweaking her butt in her seat as she said, “I believe you’re my personal masseuse for the rest of the weekend!”
She had forgotten that one too. Maybe Eliza had inadvertently scrambled her brain or something. Tara rubbed at her own shoulder, a look of contemplation on her pretty face. Then she shook her head as if discarding a choice, then looked at Becca and lifted her feet off the ground. She still had the blue-sparkling nail polish that made her toes glitter. “I’d love a foot massage.”
The statement seemed like a comment, but Becca was savvy enough to know it was a command as per her agreement. It wasn’t a big deal, she had become acquainted enough with feet that just massaging them wouldn’t gross her out too bad. And it’d give her something else to do that wasn’t ‘Kardashian’ related – whoever that was. So, without complaint, she scooted the futon over to be in front of Tara and sat on it.
Tara’s feet fell onto Becca’s lap, just as they had when she had given her a pedicure last evening. Becca could already smell that now familiar scent; Tara’s feet were larger than Eliza’s; Eliza had delicate arches and rounded toes, versus Tara’s fuller, meatier sole and longer, sturdier toes that were slightly curved together by years in restricting footwear – but Becca lamented that at least they weren’t crusty like some people’s feet. They were, however, a little ripe. They had a pungent, complex smell that she now recognized was a combination of Tara’s volleyball sneakers and her sweaty socks, which she’d noticed when she had tidied up the living room last night, and also the more natural and fresher, cheddar-like smell of Tara’s sweaty feet that hadn’t likely showered since just after volleyball practice… yesterday.
She wrinkled her nose slightly, and thanked her lucky stars she was only massaging them.
Becca picked up the first foot up, cradling it’s weight by the heel with one hand, and rubbing amateurish circles into the slightly moist skin of her arch. She did this for a few moments before looking up to see if her work was approved of.
Tara was looking at her, expression unreadable, and Eliza was smirking whilst tapping a finger against her own lips, like she had a terrible secret she couldn’t wait to share. It took Becca a second to catch on.
“No.” She said, bewildered and aghast.
But it wasn’t Eliza who confirmed her fears.
“You can’t just chicken out.” Tara said, as if a statement of fact – as if being a chicken was worse than this.
Eliza settled into her seat, somehow looking very pleased with the situation. “Did you not think about that when you accepted the double-or-nothin’?” Becca hadn’t. She’d been so overconfident, she hadn’t bothered, and it made sense to her how seriously her sister had taken the match. And she had agreed.
“How do I even massage feet with my mouth?” She asked the pair, hoping they might relent and give her an out.
“Ohhh, I dunno. You could kiss them? Lick them?” Eliza offered, feigning as if she were simply being helpful, when in fact she was laying the sentence upon her poor sister.
The idea of backing out now occurred again. She felt Tara’s eyes on her, and Eliza’s. They were judging her, she was sure of it. Would she be a chicken? Would she be lame, as Eliza had called her last night? Whilst czech casting porno she might’ve considered herself above such baiting yesterday morning, she didn’t want them to dislike her; she wanted Tara to think she was cool. And that meant not breaking the rules of the games.
It made a twisted kind of sense, and a sickened part of her knew she was going to relent to their peer pressure. Eliza decided to twist the knife a little, revelling in the humiliation she was witnessing. “You know, you’ve forgotten about your forfeit twice now. I think if you forget again, we should extend it from the whole day to the whole weekend?”
Becca gave her a contemptuous sneer, but Tara nodded in agreement. “That’s fair.” Becca felt a pit in her stomach open. She certainly didn’t want to lick these feet twice if Tara felt like a massage tomorrow. She resolved to not make a mistake again.
Then she turned to the task in front of her. The teenage pair watched her, TV forgotten, as she built up the willpower to… use her mouth on a girl’s feet. She brought the foot higher up, now once more face to face with Tara’s plump, sturdy toes and slightly dirty soles. She had only been around the house… and in her sweaty, used gym socks… and her stinky, well-loved gym shoes.
Becca leaned her face forward, eyes on the foot – she didn’t want to know how much Eliza or Tara were laughing at her expense. Her tunnel vision seemed to make it her entire world, and her stomach roiled at what she was about to do.
Her lips were dry from embarrassment. She stopped, a few inches away from it, able now to fully appreciate Tara’s foot funk.
First, she licked her lips, then she pressed a kiss against the ball of Tara’s foot. The embarrassment and adrenaline made her hyper-aware of what she was experiencing. She could feel the damp, more padded skin of a girl’s foot against her lips. The sweat and her already drying saliva made the connection ‘stick’ a little more than she had expected, and there was a barely audible vacuum-smack as her lips came away.
Eliza laughed, loving the fact she had her older sister kissing the sweaty feet of a girl. Tara was enjoying it similarly, loving that she had tricked an older girl into doing something so gross. The two of them would’ve never kissed feet, let alone another girl, yet they had her here doing exactly that.
One. Becca counted, seeing the daunting task ahead of her. It had been so gross to kiss a foot once, and that was not exactly a massage. She leaned in again, Tara flexed her foot ever so slightly, and the older girl’s lips pressed against the base of her toes. Becca didn’t seem to notice the intent of the movement, but her nose scrunched when she pulled back, Tara’s toes having nestled up against her nose.
Her lips felt dry again, so she licked them – tasting foot sweat for the first time. Her face twisted in disgust when she realised what she had done and where the salty taste had come from.
Eliza’s laugh doubled her over, even managing to drag Becca’s eyes away from Tara’s feet. Becca looked even redder than she had when she first kissed the foot. Eliza reigned herself in and wafted an apologetic hand. “Sorry, sis. Sorry. It is pretty funny to watch though.” Eliza had a mean streak, but she knew well when to dial it back in.
“At least she’s not making you massage her butt.”
Becca’s brow rose for a moment as if she hadn’t even considered it a possibility, and realized she certainly was glad. She couldn’t imagine having to kiss someone’s asscheeks! Especially another girl!
Feeling ever so slightly less unfortunate for the task, but still utterly disgusted, Becca kissed across the base of Tara’s toes, then continued down across the ball of her foot. After a few sweeps across, she lifted the foot higher to access the arch when Tara let out an uncomfortable groan.
“My leg is getting tired. Could you maybe crouch down?” Becca looked at her, a part of her wanting to snap out that she was already kissing feet, if anyone was tired of this it was her! But she held her tongue, considering Tara hadn’t made her agree to the forfeits – Becca had been desperate to hang out with them, to assuage her boredom, and Tara had been kind enough to offer her a spot in their game. And, she considered that Tara didn’t know her as a friend yet; if Becca had Eliza kissing her feet, she would definitely be meaner about it than Tara had been.
So, she curled her back down before continuing. The older blonde began kissing down the softer skin of Tara’s arch, nose pressed up against the soul as she landed each kiss – inadvertently taking inhales of her stink when her lips were closed against her foot. After a few moments her back started to ache, so instead she lifted the foot off her lap, and laid both down on the futon. Then, she knelt down behind it, eye-level with the teenager’s feet.
She didn’t hear a laugh this time, but Eliza had not stopped watching – thoroughly enjoying the show.
Becca had to keep licking her lips, the salty foot sweat seemed to sap the moisture away after a kiss or two, and each time she felt the revulsion seep through her core when she knew she was tasting foot sweat. The taste wasn’t strong, but the idea of it was like poison to a teenage girl’s mind.
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