Welcome to Sole Food! (amputation, foot fetish, cannibalism, wlw, incest)

Section 1 - The TV Ad

Haley was a tall girl, about 6ft. She had long, reddish brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders in wavy strands. Her nose was a bit long, but fit her face well, and her eyes were a deep amberish orange color. She was incredibly pale, with a rosy hue on her cheeks, palms, and soles of her feet. 

Speaking of her feet, her long, slender size 11 soles were quite a sight to see. She had played volleyball in school growing up, and her large, impressive feet helped her with her jumps and maneuvers. She stretched her bare feet out on the couch, relaxing her toes as she flipped through channels on TV.

Recently, Haley had gone through a rough breakup. Her ex-boyfriend, Roger, had told her that she could ask him to do anything she wanted, just once, for her birthday. Coincidentally, consensual cannibalism had just become legalized, so she wanted him to eat a part of her- namely, her feet.

Even though her feet were slender and shapely, she hated how large they were, and wanted more than anything to get them cut off and replaced with smaller, prosthetic feet.

Roger was very uncomfortable with Haley’s request, and ended up breaking up with her, on her birthday. Now, weeks later, Haley sat on her couch, flipping through channels on TV, trying to find some way to ignore her large feet.

Suddenly, an advertisement started playing on the TV. A woman in her 40s, with bright red lipstick and brown hair in a bun, started talking. She was dressed in a white chef’s uniform, and seemed to be an accomplished cook.

“Did you hear the news about cannibalism being legalized? Are you afraid of trying to cook human meat by yourself? Do you have an interest in eating human feet? Well, I have news for you!”

Haley shook out of her depression, and sat upright, pressing her feet into the carpeted floor, leaning forward at the TV intently. A chef who wants to cook human feet? Maybe she could help me. She thought to herself.

The middle aged woman on TV continued her ad. “My name is Sheryl Haven, and I am the founder and head chef at Sole Food - the first ever foot cannibal restaurant! If you have even an inkling of curiosity, and would like to try a taste of a toe or a heel, then come on down for the meal of a lifetime!”

Sheryl held up a plate with two middle-aged feet on it, that appeared to be garnished with seasonings and sauces, and surrounded by lettuce. Those look delicious. Haley thought.

“These very feet are my own feet! To prove that I am just as serious about giving feet as I am about cooking them.” Sheryl explained. The camera quickly pointed at her ankle stumps, which had healed and been attached to prosthetic feet.

“Human feet are a beautiful delicacy, and contain a lot of flavor and nutrients.” She cut off her own meaty big toe from the plate, and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm! Delicious! Truly the greatest meal there is. So come on down to Sole Food, where you can fill your soul by eating some soles!” The advertisement ended with a picture of a map and an address, which was only 5 miles from Haley’s house.

Haley was shaking with excitement in her seat. A real foot restaurant?? And it’s in my area!! She thought. I have to go. And so she did.

Section 2 - Welcome!

Haley arrived at Sole Food wearing a long, red dress that showed off her rosy skin very nicely. She had on black high heels with ribbon wrappings trailing up her calves. If I’m going to be getting rid of my feet tonight, I might as well wrap my present with a bow! She had reasoned.

When Haley entered the restaurant, there were already a lot of customers enjoying their meals. I guess the TV ad has been shown several times already… she thought. As she waited for an employee to help her out, she observed some of the customers and their meals.

A young woman, not much older than 18, sat with her 3 friends, each one of them a different race. It seemed like they had all chosen to eat the feet of another friend, and were taking turns commenting on the unique flavors and scents that came from the feet. The small asian feet had a unique tang to them, while the black feet were more strong and bold. The girls took turns trying toes from each foot to ensure they got to taste a bit of everything.

Haley felt herself getting a bit wet looking at those appetizing feet… was she here for the food part, or was there something more to it? She didn’t want to think too hard about it. She looked over to the right, and saw a family gathering together to eat. They all appeared to be adults, though the concept of a family eating feet together was a bit bizarre for her.

The father took a big bite out of what appeared to be the mother’s aged soles on the plate, while the son took a bite out of the sister’s heel. The sister poked at the father’s soles, wondering how she was going to eat so much meat, while the mother seemed to be enjoying eating the brother’s meaty toes like nuggets.

Before Haley could get any wetter, an attendant came up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Haley turned around, and came face to face with Sheryl herself!

“Sheryl!” Haley blurted out, a bit startled.

“Ah, I see you know my name already?” Sheryl remarked.

Haley’s cheeks got redder, and she stared down at Sheryl’s prosthetic stumped feet. “Oh uh, yeah, I saw your ad on TV.”

Sheryl nodded, “of course! I’m glad you were able to find this place.” Sheryl stared at Haley’s beautiful black high heels. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you have quite the nice feet! For culinary purposes, I mean, of course. Those toes would make a great batch of breaded nuggets.”

Haley was taken aback at Sheryl’s boldness, but also didn’t really mind the compliment. “O-oh, thank you! I actually am here to offer up my feet, if you don’t mind.”

Sheryl raised an eyebrow. “Only to offer up? Or would you also like to dine?”

Haley rubbed her arm nervously. “I don’t think I could afford to eat at such a nice place.”

“My dear, you haven’t even taken a look at our price plans! Let me help you.” Sheryl pulled out a menu, and showed it to Haley.

The menu was covered in a bunch of interesting images of feet cooked in various ways. Haley noticed right away that the picture for “soles seasoned on salad with sauce” was a picture of Sheryl’s own feet from the TV ad. Some other notable ones included a foot inside a hamburger bun, ten severed toes used on top of ice cream, and a somewhat raw foot decorated with sushi.

Sheryl’s red polished finger covered Haley’s view, pointing towards the top of the menu, at the section titled “Pricing.”

“There are two main options here at Sole Food, my dear. We have the Sole Stranger and the Foot Friend. Our SS customers wear a white anklet on both feet, to tell others that they are refusing to let their feet be eaten. SS customers pay full price for our meals.”

Sheryl continued, “Our FF customers wear pink anklets on both feet, and this tells other customers that their feet are available for consumption. FF customers are asked to stay inside the restaurant for 2 hours, and if they do, their meal is considered free, even if their own feet are never chosen by someone else during that time. If their feet are chosen, then they get complimentary prosthetics.”

“You can also do half-and-half, one pink and one white anklet, though this isn’t really a good idea since you’ll just feel lopsided if you lose one foot, right?”

Haley chuckled a bit. “Yeah, that would be odd. Hmm… well, I suppose I want to do the pink anklets then! The FF option please.”

Sheryl smiled. “Of course, my dear. And remember, you get a free pair of feet to eat with this selection. I know you said you are here to donate feet, but you might as well indulge in some feet at the same time.”

Haley nodded a bit, thinking about how delicious those giggling college girls’ feet looked.

While Haley was daydreaming for a bit, Sheryl grabbed two pink anklets, and clipped them onto Haley’s ankles, on the outside of her black high heels.

“Now that you’ve made your selection, I should tell you how our feet-ordering process works!” Sheryl said, smiling at Haley.

Section 3 - How to Order Feet

“To order a pair of feet, or a single foot, really, you are going to need one of these.” Sheryl handed Haley a simple black, washable marker. “These markers are very easily washed out, but also are very good at writing on human skin. You’re going to want to mark your order number on the sole of the foot that you want to order, and this will help our chefs know what to do with the foot once it is severed.”

Haley nodded, “So what is my order number?”

Sheryl facepalmed herself. “Oh! So sorry dear. I forgot to give you your number.” Sheryl pulled out a card from a stack of order numbers. “Looks like your number is 655.”

“Now, remember, every foot with a pink anklet is fair play. The moment they put on a pink anklet (until the moment they take it off), everything below the anklet is considered property of the restaurant. You are free to lick, kiss, suck on, or otherwise test the feet of our pink patrons. Though, until you write your number on the sole, and tell the owner of the feet, please refrain from biting off any toes.”

Haley nodded again. “That makes sense to me! I don’t think I’m going to be too eager to try any feet just yet… I still don’t know if I’m going to order anything.”

“Well, just keep it in mind.” Sheryl winked. “Oh- and by the way, If you survive the 2 hour time without anyone ordering your own feet, I’d be happy to order them myself.”

Haley blushed. “Oh- that’s very kind of you.”

“Of course, dear. Let’s get you seated at a table.”

Section 4 - Toe gets Tasted

Haley was seated at a nice booth table thanks to Sheryl, and she began to relax herself as she waited for someone to pick her feet. 

I guess I should make my feet more presentable… Haley thought. She removed her high heels, and put the pink anklets back on her bare feet. She propped up her long, slender soles on the table, and did her best to wiggle her toes and see if anyone was interested.

A bratty blonde girl with a spray tan, wearing white anklets, dragged her mom along behind her. “Mom, I want those feet! And those feet! And those feet!”

“Honey, we chose the white anklets, we’re gonna have to pay full price for all these feet… you should try and get a pair that is pretty large. How about this lady’s feet?” the mom pointed at Haley.

The blonde girl glanced at Haley’s feet. She bent down, and began to lick Haley’s soles. The sensation was instantly arousing. Haley did her best to hide a moan, biting her lip as the blonde tasted all over the feet.

After having a much longer taste than she probably should’ve, the blonde stood up. “Hmm… nah, I don’t want to order these. But I wouldn’t mind stealing a toe.”

The mom rolled her eyes. “You can’t just steal a toe off of living feet, you need to ask for this young lady’s permission first.”

“She can eat a toe-” Haley blurted out, immediately questioning what she had just said. Oh no… is that gonna hurt? Haley thought, but her curiosity outweighed her potential future pain.

The blonde licked her lips, and bent down again, putting her mouth around Haley’s second toe on her right foot. Haley braced herself, and felt a sharp pain as the blonde bit off the toe. The pain radiated from her foot, but slowly converted to arousal. Why do I like this?? Haley thought to herself, as the blonde licked the wound clean, and chewed on the severed toe, dangling it from her mouth tauntingly.

The mom grabbed the blonde’s arm. “Sorry, we’ve wasted enough of your time already…”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Haley responded, as the mom dragged the blonde to another table.

Sheryl came up to Haley. “Surprised at how little it hurts?”

“Y-yeah, actually.” Haley acknowledged. “It felt… pleasant after a bit.”

“I should’ve mentioned these anklets let out a small neurological frequency, it is designed to convert pain into pleasure as much as possible. It’s not perfect, but it certainly helps.” Sheryl winked.

“Yeah… it uh, definitely helped.” Haley remarked.

“Well, try not to give out too many free samples, dear. Not everyone will be willing to order a foot that doesn’t have any toes.” Sheryl warned.

“Of course, of course, I know… I just… wanted to know how it felt.” Haley admitted.

“And?”

“It was pretty great.”

Section 5 - Tasting Someone Else’s Toe

After a few more people licked her feet, but didn’t commit, Haley decided she should try and get herself some food to pass the time. If no one takes my feet, at least Sheryl will once the time is up. Haley thought.

Haley put on her black heels, which felt a bit different with the missing toe, and started looking around the restaurant for some potential tasty toes to try.

She spotted a goth girl, with black lipstick, a black dress, and big black boots. Pink anklets were rather awkwardly clipped around the outside of each boot. She looks like she may have nice feet.

Haley approached the girl, and nervously asked. “I- uh, noticed your feet are up for eating.”

The goth girl looked at Haley with a dominant stare. “Yes… and?”

Haley gulped. This girl is intimidating as hell. Why am I into that?

“If you want a taste, you better ask.”

Haley nodded, “Yes, uh, I’d like a taste.”

The goth smirked, and unbuckled her massive boots. She slid her bare feet out of the big, black shoes, which fell on the floor with two thuds. The goth girl’s feet were incredibly pale, nearly looking black-and-white, with black toenail polish to match. They seemed to glisten with sweat after being stuck inside those massive boots. They looked to be a size 6, with meaty soles and short-ish toes.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” the goth asked. “I don’t have all day.”

Haley bent down and licked a toe quickly. Her eyes lit up, as her tongue bursted with flavor. “Oh my God- this is- aughhh….” Haley moaned aloud, and quickly shut her mouth.

The intimidating goth smirked a bit. “One taste isn’t enough to make a decision, love. Lick them again.”

Haley stammered. “I- uh- I-”

The goth shoved her feet into Haley’s face. “Lick. Them. Again.”

Haley nodded timidly, and began to lick the goth girl’s soles over and over, trying to slurp up every bit of flavor trapped between each meaty wrinkle. As she increased in intensity, she began sucking on each toe, shoving her mouth down and up each toe like a cock.

“Harder. More. Keep going.” the goth commanded.

Eventually, Haley was very wet, both her panties, and her face covered in foot sweat. In her arousal, she suddenly bit down on the goth’s left pinky toe.

“Aagh!” the goth girl let out a bit of a grunt.

Haley pulled back before she could do too much damage. “Oh, I’m sorry, I-”

The goth girl regained her composure, and stared at Haley intensely. “Did I tell you to stop?”

Haley’s legs got weaker than they already were. “N-no, ma’am.”

“Bite it off. It’s already damaged, you might as well finish the job.”

Haley nodded, and bit off the goth girl’s pinky toe. As she chewed on the toe, the sweaty flavor burst through with greater intensity, the cheesy, salty, footy delight made Haley moan even more. She swallowed the rest, and looked at the goth girl.

“I think I want to order your feet.”

The goth girl smirked. “Good idea. And I’m going to order yours.”

Section 6 - Ordering Feet

Haley marked the goth girl’s feet with her number, and the goth girl did the same with hers.

“I suppose if we are eating each others’ feet, we should get to know each other a bit. I’m Christine.”

“Nice to meet you, Christine… I’m Haley.”

Christine smirked in her dominating way. “What a cute name.”

Haley melted even more at this remark, and then tried to straighten up. “So… why didn’t you taste my feet before you marked them?”

“I come here all the time, no one has been able to overcome their fear of me enough to order my feet. They’re all too scared. But you, you somehow managed to go for it. You bit off my toe. I like that ferocity. You may be submissive-”

“Hey!”

“But you are determined, and you know what you want. I like that. I think your large feet will taste amazing. I’ve always had a thing for longer soles. Reminds me of cute rabbit feet. I bet you were quite the jumper in women’s sports.” Christine suggested.

“I- yes, I was… though I won’t be doing much jumping anymore once these feet are gone.” Haley said. Receiving all these compliments about her feet was making her question if she wanted to really get them removed…

“It will all be worth it once your cooked toes are in my mouth.” Christine declared, making Haley blush some more.

Section 7 - Removing Feet

Haley and Christine, each missing a toe, walked their marked feet up to the removal station. The “Foot Removal-O-Matic,” as it was called, was a row of guillotines built into a wall of the restaurant. You could barely even see the blades and machinery inside, all you could really see were rows of holes, where the foot donors could insert their ankles and await amputation.

Each pair of holes had a keypad beside it that seemed to be used to write down what menu item the feet should be prepared for. Haley chose foot burgers for Christine’s feet, and Christine chose the seasoned soles with sauce and salad for Haley’s feet.

The girls slid their ankles into the holes, and pressed the confirm buttons at the same time. Once they did, an overhead screen started playing a recorded video.

Sheryl’s red lipstick smile popped into view. “Thank you for choosing to cut off your feet with us at Sole Food! Allow me to demonstrate the removal process as you experience it with me!”

Sheryl took off her shoes, and inserted her wrinkled soles into the ankle slots. “Once you have confirmed your order, the machine will administer a numbing chemical into your bloodstream. This should remove all feeling in your feet before the amputation.”

Haley and Christine both felt tiny needles inject into their ankles. Their skin began to feel weird as the sensation slowly started to fade.

“Please wiggle your toes and count to ten, until you are completely unable to wiggle them anymore. If you are still able to wiggle your toes, hit the help button, and a second dose of the chemical will be administered.”

As the girls wiggled their toes, another screen, underneath the Sheryl one, showed a live camera feed of each girl’s feet, as the toes wiggled, wiggled, and then slowly stopped.

“Your feet look so sexy when they wiggle.” Christine commented, making Haley blush some more.

“Now that your feet are entirely numb, you should prepare for the amputation. Please say your goodbyes to your feet, and press 6 if you would like to order a photo album of your feet’s future cooking process.”

“I don’t think I can afford that, and I don’t know if I’d want that.” Haley said.

“I would.” Christine pressed Haley’s number 6 button. “I’ll pay for it.”

Haley blushed again. This girl is so confident… she thought.

“Your feet will now be removed after a count of 5.” Sheryl’s voice buzzed on the monitor.

“5…”

“4…”

“3…” Haley wasn’t so sure anymore about this. She started to struggle a bit, but her feet were completely numb.

“2…” Haley was sweating a bit. “Wait! I want to change my mind!” but the recording didn’t respond.

“1!” The guillotines severed the feet with a loud CHOP! Haley watched on the live feed as her and Christine’s feet tumbled onto trays beneath the ankle holes, twitching wildly after the amputation. Haley felt horrified but aroused, watching her own feet twitch around like a foreign creature… It was so bittersweet.

“Thank you for your donation to Sole Food! Please wait for your ankle stumps to be properly cauterized, and for an attendant to provide you with your prosthetics. We hope your recipient will enjoy consuming your feet, and we hope you will dine with us again!” Sheryl’s recording finished, as Sheryl held up her own recently severed feet, giving each sole a kiss.

Haley was trying to catch her breath, as her mind was swirling with all sorts of thoughts. She felt aroused, but upset, but excited… it was a mess.

Sheryl (the real one, not the old recording) approached the girls, carrying two pairs of prosthetic feet. “I’m so glad you girls were able to get rid of your feet! I bet you’ll love the meals you’ve chosen for them. Here are your prosthetic feet. Once you’ve gotten adjusted to them, follow me to watch the cooking process!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Thank you for reading!! If you like this story, I may make a part two, but idk lol, it’s up to you! Also feel free to comment below what you’d like to order from this restaurant.

Religious Obligations (amputation, cannibalism, foot fetish, incest, religious themes)

I was raised very religious, and often found myself staring at the cute feet of the other girls in the congregation. This story is kind of built on all that stuff. I also divided it into sections, to make it easier to come back and read your favorite parts (and jack off to those parts of course).

Section 1 - The Chapel

Rachel sat in the pew at church, fiddling with her brunette pigtail braids, doing her best to hum along to the hymn being sung. Today was a very important day, but not one she was looking forward to.

At her church, it was customary for a feast to be held each year in honor of all the single young adults who managed to remain virgins. This part wasn’t so bad, except the meal was made up of the body parts of the ones who were not virgins.

Rachel had previously gotten into some trouble with her boyfriend, and ended up losing her virginity. Her religious guilt pushed her to confess to her pastor of her sins, and he told her that though God forgives, a sacrifice must still be made… 

So now she sat, the knot in her stomach growing, wondering just how much of her body would be offered up. The church usually didn’t kill someone entirely during one of these ceremonies, in order to leave room for repentance, but depending on the sin, one could lose up to half their body in the process.

Rachel looked over at her pale blonde older sister, Isobel, who had pieces offered on the altar several years prior. Isobel’s arms ended at her elbows, and her legs ended at her knees. Her hands, forearms, calves, and feet had all been cut off and cooked up for the feast, and this left Isobel bound to a wheelchair and incredibly penitent for her “sins.”

Not so long ago, Isobel had been very popular in the church, and had a lot of the boys wrapped around her finger (along with the boys’ dicks). Now her fingers, and their dicks, and more, had all been sacrificed for a previous year’s grand feast, all in the name of sexual purity.

Rachel shook out of her pondering to see that the service had officially ended, and the congregants were heading for the dining hall to prepare for the feast. The pastor spoke from the pulpit: “All those who are marked with impurity, please make your way to the holy kitchen for your sacrifice.” He then stepped down, and began to lead all the non-virgins, including Rachel, to the kitchen.

Rachel examined herself, looking at her long, slender arms, her delicate, piano-playing fingers… Her sandaled feet that had recently been polished, her toned yet soft legs with decent thighs… her whole body that she had worked on for ballet and music… what parts would they take?

“Sister Ackerman.” the pastor called, gesturing towards the kitchen. “We are going in alphabetical order, so that means you’re first.”

Rachel’s eyes bulged a bit and a lump formed in her throat. “Having an A-name never sucked more,” she thought to herself.

Section 2 - The Kitchen

The pastor brought her into the large kitchen; a surprisingly spacious room lined with counters, sinks, and assorted cooking utensils. In the center of the room, there were several specialized guillotines lined up for the removal of various body parts. Notably, there was no normal head-cutting guillotine, but there were some clearly designed for hands, feet, arms, breasts, and legs, both singular and in pairs.

Each guillotine was built atop an ornate altar draped with a red cloth (so the blood wouldn’t show too much). The pastor circled the guillotines, muttering to himself, testing the blades and making sure the machinery was all functional.

The guillotines came with a special auto-cauterizing system, to avoid too much bloodshed. They apparently also once came with a numbing chemical, too, but the pastor had it removed years ago. “If they cannot feel the pain, they cannot heal their souls” he had reasoned.

The pastor lingered in front of the feet guillotine, casting glances between it and Rachel’s cute sandaled feet. “Yes… I think this shall be a good lesson. Rachel, come place your feet upon this altar.” he ordered. (The pastor never once said the word “guillotine,” feeling it to be too crude.)

Rachel’s legs felt like they’d buckle underneath her. She made her wobbly way over to the guillotine, er… altar, and slipped off her sandals. 

Almost without thinking, she gave each shoe a gentle kiss, and sniffed them a little bit. She had never been much of a foot fetishist (all fetishes were frowned upon in her church), but she did want to smell her aroma one last time, before her feet became a distant, digested memory.

Rachel pointed her feet, just as she had been trained in ballet so many times, and slid them into the holes in front of her. She noticed that the pastor positioned himself in front of her soles, so as to stare at her rosy, wrinkled paws for himself. She rolled her eyes a bit, took a breath, and gripped the altar in preparation for the cut.

The pastor was so focused on Rachel’s perfect size 8 feet that he didn’t see her disgust, and bent down before her soles, giving each one a… “holy” kiss. Rachel cringed at each kiss, but did not resist. There wasn’t much she could do at this point. Her toes wiggled involuntarily, and the pastor seemed to chuckle a bit at this. “Mmm… you always did have such… refined ballerina feet, Rachel. They will be a fitting sacrifice for all your footsteps into sin.”

Rachel did her best to not cuss out the pastor (fearing that he would take more parts if she did). The pastor stood up, and looked at Rachel solemnly. “This is the end for your feet, Rachel. Say farewell.” he declared. 

Rachel nodded shakily, and muttered to herself quietly, “Goodbye, my beautiful feet… you always were so good to me… I wish I had more time to dance with you… I hope whoever eats you will enjoy it.”

The pastor smiled, satisfied with this small speech, and pulled the lever. The guillotine’s blade descended swiftly, severing both of Rachel’s feet in an instant. Rachel recoiled back, biting into her pigtails to avoid screaming too loud. She started breathing deep yet quickly, whimpering into her hair, rocking forward and back, clearly overwhelmed with the throbbing sensation in her ankles.

The pastor, unfazed, pressed the cauterization button, which began to seal and char the flesh on Rachel’s stumps and her severed feet’s stumps. Once the machine was done, the feet plopped into the basket at the end of the altar, and the pastor bent down and picked them up, admiring them from every side.

Rachel was still in excruciating pain, smelling the burning of her own flesh as the stumps sealed up. Through her tears, she watched her former feet get played with, and felt a pang of regret. Not regret for what she did with her boyfriend, but regret for not having done more with her feet. The pastor gave the feet some gentle kisses (and maybe even a lick, though it seemed like that was more than he should have done).

Finally taking notice of Rachel’s pained state, and the glint of foot-attraction her eyes, the pastor turned toward her, and his gaze softened. “Once you get your foot prosthesis, I want you to take your own feet to the chef. Do whatever you feel is necessary to get that final goodbye before the feet are taken away.”

Rachel smiled weakly. “Th-thank you, pastor…” though she was grateful, she really just wanted her feet attached to her again (and away from the pastor’s grubby mouth).

Two attendants came up to her, and helped her attach the new foot prosthesis: two porcelain-white unisex feet, that looked as if they had been cut off a religious statue. The prosthesis was meant to remind the wearer of purity, and was seen as an honor to those who only lost their feet or hands and nothing further (a “lesser” punishment, in the church’s eyes).

Rachel examined her new statuesque feet, and tried to straighten them into a pointe like she used to for ballet. The prosthetics angled down a little, but didn’t really move much. She let out a defeated sigh, and gingerly tried to stand up. She braced herself on the counter nearby, still wincing from the radiating pain in her ankle stumps.

The pastor began helping the next non-virgin into a guillotine, and Rachel made her way to the back of the room, walking past the chef, who seemed to already understand what the pastor had said, and gave her a subtle nod. Rachel went into the supply closet, and locked the door. Once she was alone, she let out a long cry, and hugged her severed feet close to her chest.

Section 3 - The Closet

She thought about the other girls and their feet, the different types and sizes. Rachel’s feet were somewhat unique, her toes made a perfect staircase from biggest to smallest, instead of having a larger second toe and a more rounded toe line. Rachel felt her “staircase toes” made her ballet pointe stand out much better, with her beautiful, meaty big toes leading the pack.

Overcome with emotions and stifled fetishes, Rachel finally caved in, and began to gently suck on her own toes. “Climb the staircase…” she said to herself, starting with the pinky toe on her right foot, and working her way up to the big toe. When she finally reached the big toe, she sucked on it in and out, as if it was a dick, moaning a bit to herself as she did.

Her heart rate started to increase as she thrusted her big toe in her mouth, and she felt her pussy starting to get wet and hot. She started rubbing her left foot up her clothed pussy, making sure her prominent big toe was right against her clitoris.

Rachel continued sucking on her right foot, now licking up and down the length of the foot. Part of her felt so disgusted and taboo about desecrating what used to be her feet, but part of her also was so deeply aroused and in love with this act. “I love my feet… I love feet… I- aughh… oh GOD…” she moaned, melting into her new fetish.

By this point, Rachel was fully deep throating her right foot, covering it in spit as she shoved it in and out, pointing it like a ballerina to better fit her toes up her mouth. She felt the wrinkles of her sole sliding against her lips and tongue; an erotic tapestry of her foot’s sexiness. Her left foot was equally wet, but in her pussy’s fluids, having made its way inside her skirt and panties, with the entire thing shoved almost entirely up her non-virgin pussy.

Rachel let out quite the orgasm, slumping against the wall of the closet, breathing heavily. Strings of pussy cream covered her left foot, as the toes inside her pussy let out a post-mortem twitch. Her right foot slid out of her mouth, and she pressed the meaty sole against her face, moaning into it and feeling the cool saliva against her cheeks. 

As the euphoric ecstasy of the experience wore off, she was reminded of the reality of the situation, and rubbed her sore stumps in their porcelain prosthetics, letting a few more tears fall onto the wet severed feet now in her lap.

“I should probably give these to the chef…” she said to herself, slowly struggling to stand herself back up and onto her fake feet.

Section 4 - The Feast

Rachel exited the closet, and went to hand the severed feet to the chef, but then remembered she never dried them off! They were still covered in her spit and pussy cream, with a shiny substance sticking between her toes. 

Her face went red, and she tried to turn around. “Wait, Sister Ackerman! I believe I need those feet for our feast.” The chef said. “Thank you for preparing them with the signature sauce like the pastor asked.”

Rachel raised a brow at this comment, looked at the chef, and at the pastor (who was currently “holy-kissing” a severed thigh from a chubby latina). “Of course… the sauce.” Rachel responded, trying to act normal. “Did the pastor know I was going to fuck my feet?” she thought to herself.

The chef smirked a bit, seemingly knowing the full story already, but kept up the act. “Of course. Thank you for your sacrifice, Sister Ackerman.”

Rachel, in a daze, handed over her severed feet, and straightened out her skirt, making her way into the feast hall with a hobbled walk.

After some time had passed, the feast was finally ready. The various circular tables in the hall were filled with the families of the congregation, who had been first served with their own relatives’ parts, if any, followed by random parts to the rest of the tables who did not have an unfaithful relative.

Rachel’s feet were in the center of her family’s table, steaming beautifully. They had been cooked whole, soles up, rested on a bed of lettuce, and covered in seasoning and chopped potatoes. They looked so delicious, so… “sexy…” Rachel thought to herself.

Rachel’s mom carved up the right big toe, and helped feed it to Isobel, who seemed to be hiding  a moan as she sucked on the appendage like a hard candy in her mouth. Rachel didn’t know whether to feel upset or honored at this.

Rachel’s father licked his lips, and carved himself the left heel, giving it a decent helping of barbeque sauce before chewing on it like a steak. “Honey, maybe you should sin more often… this tastes divine.” he remarked, before getting a smack on the arm from his wife.

After everyone had gotten a taste, Rachel decided to carve herself a piece. She cut off her right foot’s pinky, 4th, and 3rd toes along with some of the meaty ball of the foot in one piece. She felt like that part of her foot was particularly cute, and in theory, it’d taste the best too.

She brought the toes to her lips, and gave them a generous suck, which got a bit of a look from her family. Once she felt like she was going too far, she bit down. The three toes came loose, rolling around in her mouth like little roasted marbles. Rachel stifled a moan as she circled the toes with her tongue, sliding them around her mouth and enjoying the flavor of such sexy appendages.

Rachel eventually chewed up and swallowed her portion, as her family finished off her feet. Rachel let out a long sigh, her mind fully letting go of the feet she once had. Now she no longer had feet, she could no longer do ballet, but the meal was almost as enjoyable as all of that. There was something about fucking herself with her feet, watching them be eaten by her own family… it stirred something deeply dark within her.

Rachel had a feeling that this wasn’t the last time she’d be sinning, nor the only time she’d enjoy some feet… she’d just try harder not to get caught in the future.

The Professor of the Black Lagoon - a Retelling of The Teacher of the Black Lagoon by Mike Thaler

This story is one that has been bouncing around in my head for a while. I grew up reading the original, and I largely blame it for my interest in guro and vore… so I decided to take a dark twist on it in a college setting! Hope you enjoy! Please give suggestions for part 2!

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Marcie was a very quiet girl, with long black hair, straight bangs covering half her eyes, and large, round glasses. She fidgeted with her short plaid skirt, clutching her books tightly in one arm as she descended the stairs to the basement.

Marcie was part of a unique program at Westbrook University. Students who couldn’t pass the entrance exam were instead given the option to attend the experimental Black Lagoon class for a year, and if they passed, they would then be admitted into the regular university.

It was rumored that the professor of this ominous class was some sort of half-reptile creature, one that was not afraid to maul or even kill students given the chance. Why the university allowed such a beast to be a teacher was a mystery to Marcie, though she didn’t doubt the existence of such a monster after reading the extensive liability waiver she had to sign before this class.

“I just have to behave myself and do whatever the professor says. Surely nothing bad will happen to me if I just follow instructions” Marcie said to herself.

Marcie approached the large metal door to the basement, and nervously turned the handle.

As the door swung open, Marcie’s eyes adjusted to the darkness within. It seemed like this basement was some sort of ancient dungeon, lit by torchlight. The walls of this medieval classroom were lined with what appeared to be human skulls, nestled in between the bricks and moss.

Marcie’s knees nearly gave out from under her at the sight of all this. She wanted to turn around and back out… but the contract she had signed was non-reversible, and punishable by death if she broke its rules.

“Either way, I’m dead” she thought to herself, and stepped inside the classroom.

Perhaps by the wind, or by some dark magic, the basement door swung shut behind Marcie, trapping her in this tomb of a classroom. Her eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, and she was now able to make out rows of desks, which were already full of other nervous students who seemed to have also signed this same contract.

At the front of the classroom was the professor herself- with long, curly red hair, a curvy figure, and a black pantsuit on. She didn’t appear to be a monster from the back, though she did seem a bit unnaturally tall. “Why is that hot?” Marcie thought, her face getting a bit red. “What.. the fuck? That’s my teacher-” she tried to snap out of it, and took a seat.

The professor turned around after writing her name on the board. She appeared nearly human, simply with scaly green skin and blood red eyes. Though many of the students gasped, Marcie was almost relieved, having assumed that this teacher would be much more monstrous.

The professor licked her lips a bit, revealing a mouth of sharp fanged teeth. “Hello classssss…” She said, with a slithery yet sultry voice. “I am Professssor Green…. and I will be your teacher for thissss year of the Black Lagoon program”

The students slowly shook out of their stunned silence, and began to whisper amongst themselves at the sight of their new professor. Ms. Green singled out the loudest of the bunch, a bratty blonde with too much lip filler, and slowly approached her. 

“Ssssorry to interrupt your disssscusssion… is there ssssomething funny about my appearance?” Ms. Green asked, eerily polite.

“You’re just, like, really green, and kinda freaky looking” the blonde said, kind of giggling to herself nervously.

“I ssssee… I think it issss time for our firsssst lesssson… learning when to keep your mouth ssssshut.” Ms. Green said, her red eyes glinting menacingly in the torchlight.

Ms. Green grabbed the loudmouthed blonde by the shoulders, and leaned in for a kiss. The blonde tried to reject it at first, but slowly melted into the sensual experience. Ms. Green’s long tongue slid down the blonde’s throat, now choking her and turning her pleasure into fear.

The other students tried to object, but Ms. Green shot them a deathly glare, and they settled into their seats. Marcie sat conflicted between terror and arousal, pulling her skirt down over her wet pussy.

Ms. Green’s tongue continued to slide down the blonde’s throat, and could be seen from the outside, growing and bulging the sides of the blonde’s neck as she gurgled on the tongue more. Finally, when Ms. Green had her fill, she retracted her tongue, and unhinged her jaw, biting off the blonde’s entire lower half of her face and upper part of her neck in one large chomp.

The blonde gurgled even more, making pained noises as her de-jawed head weakly tipped back, tearing from her body due to gravity, and splatting with a thud on the floor. The blonde’s now-headless busty body convulsed in her seat, her large, fake tits jiggling as the tremors subsided.

After this violent demonstration, the students were now completely silent, not wanting to incur the wrath of their professor. Ms. Green took note of this new attitude, and straightened herself up, wiping her mouth clean on the decapitated blonde’s shirt before returning to the front of the class.

“Thank you for your cooperation, classss.” she said sweetly, as if nothing had even happened.

Marcie was full of conflicting feelings. On the one hand, she wanted to throw up at the sight of the mangled corpse, and on the other hand, in the back of her mind… she almost wished that corpse was her. The way that Ms. Green’s tongue had filled her throat… the deep sensual energy of the kiss… Marcie tried to shake herself out of it and pay attention.

“Today, I think we sssshould focussss on math, assss it is very important for making it in thissss world. Now, take your textbooksss out and turn to page sssseventy two…” Ms. Green instructed.

As the class followed her instructions, Ms. Green eyed a large-chested, pale brunette girl on the back row, who was absent-mindedly chewing gum. Ms. Green stood up, and slowly approached the girl, stalking her like prey.

The brunette looked up from her book, and stopped chewing. “Is something wrong, miss?” the girl asked, trying to be as calm as possible.

“You know… I’ve alwayssss loved chewing gum… sssomething about having a large, rubbery wad in my mouth…” Ms. Green placed her hands on the brunette’s desk, locking eyes with her.

The brunette knew something bad was coming, and quickly swallowed the gum. “I’m not chewing anything, miss.”

“Not anymore… but I will be, sssoon.” Ms. Green declared. She reached forward, and grabbed ahold of the brunette’s left breast. The brunette’s eyes grew wide as she leaned as far back into her chair as she could. Ms. Green’s claws dug into the edges of the breast, starting to draw blood as she went deeper.

The brunette began to squirm even more, but the more she resisted, the more her left tit came loose into Ms. Green’s clawed hand. Once the tit was free, Ms. Green licked the pale, round, soft breast clean, gently sucking on the nipple for a bit, before putting the whole thing in her mouth.

As Ms. Green chewed the breast like gum, the brunette’s shirt grew wet with blood, and she slowly went into shock. Ms. Green moaned to herself, clearly enjoying the taste, and eventually she swallowed the whole boob.

“Of course… the besssst part of chewing gum is blowing the bubblessss…” Ms. Green began to kiss the shocked brunette, who subconsciously melted into it. This time, instead of slithering her tongue down the throat, Ms. Green began to blow as much air as possible into the brunette, defying normal logic as the brunette’s head started expanding.

The brunette grew more frantic, flailing her arms, and hitting at Ms. Green’s shoulders in vain. As the brunette’s head grew, stretch marks started to form and blood began to trickle down her eyes, ears, and nose. In one final blast of air, the brunette’s head exploded entirely, sending chunks of flesh flying in all directions.

The remaining students were then covered in the mess, sitting in a stunned, traumatized silence. The brunette's body convulsed much like the blonde's had, though she only had one remaining breast, which jerked around wildly without its partner.

Marcie’s mouth had been hanging open, and one of the brunette’s blue eyes shot into her lips. She was too shocked to do anything, and ended up closing her mouth with the eye inside. The dark, erotic urges inside herself growing further, Marcie slowly licked the eyeball, eventually chewing and swallowing it with small disgust and great arousal. “Maybe I’m the monster…?” Marcie thought to herself, slightly stroking her soaked pussy.

Ms. Green did not return to her desk immediately, but reached down, grabbing the brunette’s feet, and twisting them off like it was nothing. She picked up the small feet, removed them from the shoes, and carried them to her desk. As she approached the desk, she passed by the blonde’s corpse, and did the same to the blonde’s feet, which were more slender and tan than the brunette, but still just as cute.

With the four feet on her desk, Ms. Green licked each one clean, sucking gently on the toes, and shoving one of the blonde’s feet up her skirt (presumably into her monster pussy). After having a good taste of the feet, she cleaned them off some more, and set them all down.

“Now classss… asssss you know, not every country usssessss feet as a form of measssurement… ssssome of them ussse the metric ssssyssstem. Can anyone tell me how many feet are in a meter?” Ms. Green asked, seemingly returning to a more normal teaching pace.

“3.28 feet are in a meter.” Marcie said, raising her hand. There was no way she was going to be caught lacking in a situation like this (at least, not on her own terms).

Ms. Green seemed surprised by Marcie’s boldness and intelligence. There was clear admiration in her eyes, and maybe even something more. “Yesss… that isss correct. Young lady, would you join me in front of the classss?” Ms. Green asked.

Marcie gulped. Was Ms. Green going to make an example of her like she did to the other girls? Would it be as orgasmic as she hoped? Or would it just hurt like hell? Marcie shakily made her way to the front, and Ms. Green stood next to her, placing a scaly hand on her shoulder, stroking it gently.

Marcie’s face got hot and red, as she tried to remain calm with this towering, scaly woman next to her. “What issss your name, dear?” Ms. Green asked.

“Marcie, ma’am.” Marcie responded, nodding her head a bit in reverence.

“Marsssie… do you ssseee a problem with the feet on thisss table?” Ms. Green asked.

Marcie got nervous. She looked at the petite pale feet that once belonged to the brunette. The rosy soles still looked so fresh and cute. The blonde’s feet were not really her type, but looked strong and slender, likely once used for volleyball and other activities.

“Ahem” Ms. Green cleared her throat.

“Oh! So sorry ma’am.” Marcie responded. “First off, these feet are different sizes… they wouldn’t necessarily be an accurate form of measurement”

Ms. Green smiled proudly. “Very good… but if we were to assssume that these were perfect for measssuring, what issssue remains in order to make a meter?”

“There are four feet. One meter would only be 3.28, so we’d need to remove approximately .72 of a foot to line things up, or around three quarters.” Marcie calculated, trying to keep her heart rate calm.

“Marssssie, pleassse remove around three quartersss from one of thessse feet.” Ms. Green commanded, her eyes getting that red glint again.

Marcie started to panic. How was she going to remove the portion? Which foot should she do it to? Would she have to use her teeth, like Ms. Green? Are her teeth even sharp enough to do something like that?

Ms. Green leaned over to Marcie’s ear. “You little sssslut… you’ve already tasssted human flesssh now… you will sssslowly be cursssed, sssame asss I am. Ussse your teeth. You will be sssurprised by how ssstrong they are becoming.”

Marcie bent down, and picked up the brunette’s right foot (which looked the smallest and cutest) and put her mouth around all five toes. She licked the toes for a bit first, letting out an embarrassing moan, and then bit down with all her might.

The toes all popped off, rolling around in her mouth, and she could feel her teeth with her tongue. “Have they gotten sharper?” she thought to herself. She slowly chewed and savored the toes, which tasted surprisingly sweet and rosy, before continuing down the foot, eating it until around a quarter remained (basically the heel and ankle).

Ms. Green’s reptilian smile had curled up the sides of her face quite large by this point. Marcie knew that she had crossed a line, taken a step she could not reverse. “Thank you, Marsssie… you may return to your desssk. I will be watching your academic career with great interessst.”

Marcie wiped her mouth with one of the clean feet (and took a few quick licks as she did). She thanked Ms. Green, and then sat down.

The boy next to her made a remark. “You’re just as crazy as the professor”

Ms. Green shot a glare at the boy, but then looked towards Marcie.

“I’ll let you handle thisss.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide in fear as Marcie’s jaw started to unhinge…

Perhaps this class wouldn’t be so bad for Marcie after all.

The night after the royal ball was marked by the sound of horses, as the charming prince searched the land for the woman who could fit the glass slipper. He approached one of the last stops on his journey- the Tremaine house (home to Cinderella, her two stepsisters Drisella and Anastasia, and the stepmother, Lady Tremaine).

The prince's attendant knocked on the door, and Lady Tremaine answered. "Are there any young women in this house? By order of the prince, I ask that they try on this glass slipper. It may sound bizarre, but it will confirm who is his true love" the attendant explained.

Lady Tremaine's face curled into a wicked smile. "Why of course! My two daughters are as young and beautiful as can be, I am certain that one of them will fit this slipper. May I have them try it on?"

The attendant nodded, handing Lady Tremaine the glass shoe.

Ms. Tremaine entered the house, shutting the door, and rushing over to her two daughters. "My girls, this slipper is our ticket out of a life of poverty and failure. If one of you can fit into it, you will become the princess, and have all your heart's desires. Anastasia, since your feet are smaller, surely you will be able to make the fit."

Anastasia nodded, wanting to please her mother. Her long, red curls framed her now red face, as she struggled to shove her foot into the slipper. "I- I can't! My big toe is too large, it keeps jamming into the front of the shoe..."

Ms. Tremaine paused, quietly assessing the situation. The attendant knocked on the door, but did not open it. "Everything alright in there?"

"Quite alright, attendant! My daughter's foot has a cramp. Give us a moment to resolve it." Ms. Tremaine grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter, and returned to Anastasia. "My girl, when you are royalty, you will have a toe made of gold... this pain will be but a moment." Anastasia's eyes grew wide, as she realized what her mother was doing.

"Stop! I- AAAAAAAGHHH-" Anastasia let out a scream, and was quickly silenced by her mother forcing a rag down her throat. Ms. Tremaine chopped off Anastasia's big toe swiftly, sawing through the bone, and setting it aside on the counter. After sewing the wound shut, Ms. Tremaine gave Anastasia a gentle kiss on the wound, and another kiss on her plump, severed toe.

"There. All better, my dear. You will now become a princess, and this wound will be a distant memory." she said, trying to keep her daughter calm.

Anastasia removed the rag from her mouth, and nodded at her mother. "I- I won't let you down" she said, wincing in pain but doing her best to smile.

Anastasia slipped on the glass shoe, which fit perfectly now, and made her way outside to meet the prince. Though the prince did not recognize her as his true love, he saw the shoe was fitting, and took her arm to lead her to his carriage.

The attendant clapped his hands with glee, and then asked, "show us the slipper! I'm excited to see it returned to its rightful owner."

Anastasia gulped, and shakily showed off the slipper, trying to keep it out of the reflective moonlight. Unfortunately, an entire missing big toe is easily spotted when examining a transparent slipper, and the attendant gasped in horror. "What! How dare you try and deceive us!"

Anastasia knew her mother would hurt her further if she didn't make this work. She quickly blurted out, "It is an old injury! Those cramps my mother mentioned, they are from my lost toe... it was bitten by a stray dog many years ago and we haven't had the funds to properly fix it."

The attendant seemed to settle down at this response. "Ah... how tragic. Well, dear prince, do you remember how many toes your true love had?"

"I am fairly certain she had all ten... though I am sorry for the loss of your toe, miss, I am afraid you are not my love." the prince said, apologetically.

Anastasia's face sank in sadness and defeat. "I- understand... um... shall I get my sister?"

"Yes! please. We haven't many more houses to go, if there is any chance your sister could be the one, we should not miss this opportunity." the attendant said.

Anastasia hobbled back inside, where Ms. Tremaine attempted to hide her burning anger. "You WHAT?" she said, trying to whisper and yell all at once. "No matter, if the prince cares about ten toes, surely we'll find a way to make Drisella fit the shoe."

Drisella's face went pale, worried that she'd have to chop a piece of her foot off, too. She played with her long, black hair, nervously. "But mother-" she attempted. 

"No! You will fit into the shoe, or I will never love you again." Ms. Tremaine replied.

Drisella pushed with all her might, trying to shove on the glass slipper, but it just wouldn't fit. Her large, round heel was too big to fit inside the back of the shoe. "Surely the prince won't notice a missing heel, so long as all the toes are intact..." Ms. Tremaine got that bloodlust in her eye, and Drisella, having watched her sister's pain, preemptively shoved the rag into her own mouth to drown her screams.

Ms. Tremaine hacked away at Drisella's beautiful round heel, severing it like a large, peachy cookie, and setting it on the counter next to Anastasia's large, plump, severed big toe. Drisella screamed into the rag, and after some stitches from Ms. Tremaine, finally fit her foot into the shoe.

Drisella walked out to meet the prince, and, though in pain, did her best to show off all her toes intact. The attendant and the prince seemed convinced enough, and helped Drisella up into the carriage. However, the stitching on her heel eventually came loose, allowing blood to slowly seep in and fill the slipper.

Before the carriage driver could take off, the attendant noticed the pooling blood, and exclaimed, "Blood! Oh my! Surely you did not intend to deceive our prince?"

Drisella attempted to save the situation. "I am your true love, dear prince! I have all ten of my toes... I simply scraped my heel on a very sharp rock not too long ago... I like to play barefoot down by the river... I am sorry..."

The prince was not convinced this time. "My true love does not like water, she prefers to sew... and if you were good at sewing, this stitch would not have come undone. I believe we have wasted enough of our time... get off my carriage and leave."

The attendant grabbed Drisella and pulled her off the carriage. She returned the slipper, and hobbled back inside. Just then, Cinderella managed to escape the attic where she was being trapped. She hurried downstairs, hoping to catch the prince. Ms. Tremaine tripped her just before the door, and Cinderella fell onto the ground.

"If my real daughters cannot have the prince, we certainly won't let you have him." Ms. Tremaine said, holding the knife above Cinderella. "But I am merciful, so I will let you live." Ms. Tremaine slammed the knife down into Cinderella's ankle, as Anastasia and Drisella held her down. Once Cinderella's entire small, pale, pointed foot was cut off, Ms. Tremaine placed it on the counter next to the other spoils of her knife.

"Open her mouth, girls." Ms. Tremaine commanded. The girls did as her mother told them, and Ms. Tremaine cut off Cinderella's tongue. Finally, to ensure she could not even write to explain herself, Ms. Tremaine chopped off Cinderella's hands, one after the other.

By this point, the prince and his attendant had turned their carriage around, after checking their records and realizing another young woman was supposed to be at this residence. As they arrived, Ms. Tremaine helped a stitched-up Cinderella out the door.

"I assume you are here for my maid, sir prince?" she asked.

"If your maid is the last young lady in the house, then yes." he responded, wanting to get this over with.

"Well, as you can see, like my other girls, this one has also had several unfortunate accidents. Wolf attack, I'm afraid." Ms. Tremaine gestured to the missing foot, hands, and tongue.

The prince hesitated for a second, nearly recognizing Cinderella, but was too disgusted by her wounds, and the previous wounds, to fully trust. "I think we are done here. Thank you for your time, and I hope your girls do not get into any other accidents."

The prince and the attendant left, as Cinderella sobbed, unable to do anything.

Ms. Tremaine led Cinderella back inside, and met with her daughters. "None of you were able to win us royalty, and therefore you deserve to be punished. I wanted to have a royal feast tonight, and so I shall have the next best thing. All of you, line up your feet (or what is left of them) and I shall chop them all off for our feast."

The girls exchanged glances, all shaking and hurting, not really willing to commit. Ms. Tremaine placed her knife at Anastasia's throat. "I do not want to kill you... but I do want a feast. Place your feet in a line, so that I may cut them off, or I shall cut off your heads instead. You cannot outrun me with your mangled soles, so you might as well submit." Ms. Tremaine smiled wickedly, knowing she had won.

The girls all lined up their feet (and Cinderella's single remaining foot), and Ms. Tremaine went down the line, chopping off each foot as the girls took turns screaming into a rag.

Ms. Tremaine then scraped the feet, along with the other severed bits (Cinderella's hands and tongue) into a large pot, and began to prepare the most delicious dish.

The girls nursed their wounds as Ms. Tremaine cooked, even helping each other sew up the stumps. Though Anastasia and Drisella had assisted in Cinderella's fate, they finally took pity on her, seeing that they were all victims of Tremaine's cruelty.

Once the feet and other bits had finished cooking, Ms. Tremaine removed the whole feet from the soup, and left the smaller bits inside. She poured bowls of soup for each girl, and placed a foot on each of their plates with a garnish of greens and seasoning.

The aroma that filled the house was surprisingly delicious, smelling like each girl's unique sweaty scent. The girls found themselves growing aroused at the smell and sight of this meal, something they didn't want to admit.

Ms. Tremaine kept the remaining three feet (one from each girl) for herself, feasting like a glutton on the meaty foot of Drisella, the long, slender foot of Anastasia, and the small, pointed foot of Cinderella.

The other girls took turns trying each others' feet, and did their best to not moan as they delighted in the experience. Drisella took Anastasia's severed toe and rubbed it between her legs, while Anastasia took Drisella's heel and did the same. Ms. Tremaine pretended not to notice this, content with her daughters sharing the love for feet that she secretly also had.

Once the meal was finished, Ms. Tremaine looked at her girls, and made an offer to them. "Now that you have tasted the deliciousness of feet, I offer you a choice. Accept your fate as food, and be cooked entirely by me, or join me in the pursuit of claiming the feet of other villagers in their sleep... if we cannot be rich, we can at least feast on the best part of the body each night."

The girls exchanged glances again, unsure if they wanted to agree, but also wanting to keep themselves alive. Anastasia spoke first, hesitant but aroused at the thought- "When do we start?"

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This was a wild idea I had after reading up on the original fairytale of Cinderella, which, for the record, does include a severed toe and severed heel very similar to the first half of this story. I decided to let it go off the rails, and made it all footsy and cannibal-y 😂 I hope this was enjoyable!