She doubled over laughing, and, after she had released her vice-grip, I could not help but laugh too, despite the shock of being subjected to such sudden and unexpected forcefulness. I laughed because I was afraid of her sudden volatility, but also… because I felt a tingling exhilaration wash over me, like a cold northern wind had just suddenly blown across my face. Such was the surprising result of her way of prying the truth from me. She pried at me as if to pry open an oyster to get at the pearl inside, and I, the oyster, was happy for it.
When she was done laughing, and after wiping a tear from her eyes, she looked at me seriously and said, “And now I know why it is that you lust after my legs and feet in particular. You’re reminded of your first love aren’t you?”
My heart pounded in my ears. I clasped my hands nervously. I stared at her, looking for a sign in her stone cold face that might say that the question wasn’t leading to an answer she didn’t already know. But her face was that of a predator that knew what she wanted. My stomach lurched when I did not see any chance in a way out. I was cornered.
“Madame, I…,” I started. My mind raced for an answer that would lead me out of this hole I had found myself trapped in, but could not find it. Evelyn too came to the conclusion that I was her captive audience, and she did with that knowledge, exactly the thing I had hoped she would.
She pulled the hem of her dress up to the top of her thighs, then kicked off a slipper from one of her feet. “I’d like to know how it feels.”
“Madame…”
“Please Niko. Not another word. Just do it. Just as you did to your geiko.”
I stared at her foot. It was covered today by a sakura blossom white silk stocking that seemed to glow in the bright sun, her toes tantalising me under the cover of their light veil, their nails painted the delicate pink of the inside of a conch shell.
What did I have to lose? Nothing. Everything. It did not matter. In either case, the correct response was to obey. So, I grabbed her foot as forcefully as a malevolent ikiryō taking possession of a soul and I pulled it towards my lips and kissed its beautiful, silk-covered sole.
My lady reacted in a surprising way. Her brows arched. She let out a gasp. But she did not retract her foot. Instead, she glanced into my eyes, and, after taking a few heavy breaths, with a newfound timidity (or was it fear?) in her voice, she said, “Well that was…”
I allowed myself an impetuous smile and asked, “Is madame pleased?”
She considered my response nervously, her eyes remained fixed to mine. She blinked several times before responding in a squirming voice, “You dirty little minx, Niko. Y-yes. Quite so.”
“Then perhaps I should tell you now: not only did I take your stockings to bed. I did unspeakable things with them. That’s right. I pleasured myself with them. What can I say? I couldn’t help myself. But you knew that I couldn’t. That’s why you offered them to me.”
The words exploded out of me like lightning out of a thundercloud. They came out of me as if it were not me but the ikiryō inside me forcing the words out, but I knew no malevolent spirit possessed me. It was only my desperate and intense yearning for intimacy that possessed me, and feeling that now that I had nothing to lose, why would I not say what I wanted to say and do what I wanted to do?
She did not immediately respond. How could she? What can you say in response to such anathema spewing from the lips of your servant? I said nothing else either. I did not want to say anything else. I said all I needed to, and what was left was to let the words resound in her head. She got what she asked for, but now it was up to her to decide if it was indeed what she was after.
Finally, she did respond.
“Take my stockings off,” she said.
“Yes, madame,” I replied.
Not another word, only hurried, heavy panting, as I unsheathed her legs from her sakura stockings.
I was not gentle when I took them off. I stretched the delicate fabric. I even tore it. When they came off her, she said hurriedly and between heavy breaths, “I want to know what it’s like.”
I could not believe what I was hearing. I did not acknowledge her confession. I was afraid if I did, I would thus be jolted awake and realise this was all just a dream.
“You think I’m having a laugh, don’t you, Niko?”
I simply shook my head.
“Truth is, I’ve always enjoyed you touching me… when you dress and undress me…brush my hair… and make me up… your touch… It is the highlight of my day. Sad, isn’t it? That your touches excite me so. But there you have it. That’s the truth. You are not the only one with naughty thoughts, Niko. I have them too. In fact, I fantasise about you Niko. Constantly.”
My heart stopped. I looked up at her with widened eyes, and found a wet smile painted on her face. She really did mean it. She meant every word.
“Oh, madame,” I answered, my heart burning with equal desire. I raised her foot again to my lips.
I desperately wanted this to be a dream, because I knew that if it were, then there wouldn’t be any consequences for what I was about to do. I would just wake up, and nothing would come of it. But after shutting my eyes, and opening them again, and seeing her naked toes right there in front of me, I knew that I was awake. I was very awake. And I had only one thing to do now, which was that thing my lady wanted me to do: Whatever I most wanted to do.
I held her foot like it was a sacred relic. I fixed my eyes intently to hers, and I did exactly what I felt was most natural to do, which was to wrap my lips around her big toe, and suck.
Her face twisted, as if shocked by tremendous pain. But it wasn’t pain that affected her. The manner with which she threw her head back and arched her back, and the purring sound she made, and the manner with which she tensed up told me that it was pure pleasure that gripped her. Encouraged, I sucked more. I put more of her big toe in my mouth, and played my tongue against it. Her foot tensed and curled in reactive protest, but then relaxed. How lovely it was, as surreal as it was, to have her toe in my mouth. And what’s more, to have her surrender herself to my desire.
I moved my mouth over her other toes while I watched her tremble. Her mouth gaped with silent gasps, her breathing sharp. When I was through with her toes, I used my tongue on the bottom of her foot. Oh yes, I licked her sole! I dragged my tongue from the heel to the arch, and all the way up to her toes, watching her utter silent, meaningless words. Then I did it again, and again, vigorously, as if her foot were lathered with the sweetest nectar and I were a hungry hummingbird hawk-moth.
“Oh Niko!” she squealed.
To hear my name intoned like that made me giggle. I giggled because of how incredulous it was to hear her utter my name so ravenously. Never had my name been uttered with such desire. Undoubtedly she desired this. She desired my tongue on her. She desired me. And this was not a dream.
To my delight, I discovered her hand travelling down to her womanhood. Hiking her dress skirt up to her waist, she pleasured herself. Her fingers moved vigorously with need for pleasure, and she quivered with every sharp breath she took while I flicked my tongue between her toes, gnawed on her heel, and rubbed my cheeks against her sole. It was a messy affair, but I did not care, and neither did she. She wanted to be naughty. She wanted me to be naughty. And, well, I wanted to be naughty for her.