u/z403854

content/trigger warning: this story contains body/fat shaming as a kink; if that’s something that you’d find disturbing, you may want to pick a different story :) 

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Sarah puffed her breath out, straining and trying to stand up with the heavy bar over her back. She pushed, just a little harder, and she finally came back up, putting the bar back on the rack and taking a step away. She breathed heavily, her heart rate fast from just doing a set of eight squats. Fuck, I’m out of shape, Sarah thought to herself, prying open her water bottle and swiveling her head around the weight room.

She didn’t particularly want to come to the gym today, but she knew if she used that as an excuse, she’d never actually come. Sarah wasn’t sure why she was even going anymore; graduated from college, she was retired from volleyball and done with competitive sports. No one really cared if she could get an extra inch on her vertical playing drunk in a bikini at the beach. Sometimes it made her feel a rush, some high to lift heavy, but it wasn’t consistent enough for her to chase that feeling.

After some pondering, though, Sarah remembered exactly why she came to the gym. In her oversized t-shirt and little baggy shorts that were barely visible under the shirt’s draping length, she wasn’t trying to be anyone’s gym crush or eye candy. But, as she caught the sheepish gaze of a man from across the room between bench sets, she remembered. He looked at her, enveloped in her shirt with her hair up in a messy bun, standing next to a bar with 200 pounds on it, and then at the bar in quiet disbelief. It was like there was a part of him that couldn’t quite believe it. Maybe he wanted to believe he couldn’t be out-lifted by a girl, or maybe there was a part of him that was just stuck in awe. The sense of power was intoxicating.

Sarah closed her water bottle. If he wanted a show, he would get one. Counting the weights, she was already at her PR for a set of eight. Today was as good a day as any to push her weight. She looked around, searching for a couple of tiny plates, but she couldn’t find any. Annoyed, she trudged off to the other side of the weight room around the machines and stretching area with all the small dumbbells, bands, and yoga mats that the tiny femmes could dream of. She found the five pound plates and grabbed a couple, lip syncing to her music as she walked back across the floor.

She always felt a bit out of place in this part of the gym. She was strong, and she knew she was in shape, but she didn’t look like the women around her. She couldn’t believe how much most of them must have spent on matching sets. The concept was absurd to her — the whole outfit she was wearing cost about 25 dollars, including the used shoes from the thrift store. Sarah felt like these girls didn’t even go to the gym to work out, they just came to be looked at.

“Hey? Are you alright up there?” a high-pitched voice asked from the floor. Sarah looked down, seeing a blonde woman, probably around 25, stretching on a yoga mat. She definitely wasn’t a weight room regular, but she looked like she just worked out hard. Her face was beaded with sweat, dripping down her body and covering her in a shine. She could see the damp spots on her top, which barely qualified as more of a sports bra, a light blue athletic cropped tank from lulu lemon with matching leggings that came up to her belly button. Sarah’s eyes drifted down to the bottom of her leggings, calf-high Nike socks covering the top of her leggings and poking out from her running shoes. Fuck, she was staring, wasn’t she?

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just tired,” Sarah said, trying to be cool and go on her way to the other side of the weight room. She started to step away, back towards the racks. The girl’s voice pulled her back.

“How much weight is on the bar over there? It looked like you were squatting a ton.”

“It’s 245,” Sarah said as nonchalantly as she could. She tried to make it sound casual, but she was also hoping that the woman on the mat was impressed. She looked like she couldn’t even bench the bar if she tried.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but stare. It’s really cool to see you fucking with the guys’ egos a bit.”

“Thanks,” Sarah replied, walking away again, trying to escape. Maybe she could get away after all.

“I hope you don’t mind. I mean, I could see you staring at me, too.”

Sarah stopped, frozen. She stood there like a deer in headlights, afraid to turn around and face the woman on the yoga mat. She already had her appearance committed to memory, burned into her mind. But, still, she couldn’t help but look.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, attempting to be sincere. She knew she’d do it again. “You’re really pretty.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Sarah felt hurt. She expected the compliment back. Her face dropped, her knees starting to cave. She started to feel how much she wanted it — no, no, she needed it. She didn’t even know this woman. Why did she need her approval?

“Can…Can I ask you out to coffee after? If you’re free?” Sarah asked nervously.

“You can come over to mine, I’m around the corner. Unless you want to keep being a nervous little bottom and keep pretending I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

Sarah was stunned. She hadn’t been with someone so forward in ages. “I, uh…yeah. Yes, please, thank you.” She didn’t say bye, didn’t try to seem presentable. She just ran over, did another set of squats so she didn’t look stupid for hogging the rack for so long, and quickly unracked. She grabbed her things and found the girl on her mat again.

“I”m ready.”

“Now? Didn’t you just start your workout?”

“I want you now.”

“Good girl.”

A shock ran through Sarah’s body, herself shaking as she tried to think of what this woman would look like on her couch, in her bed. On the brief walk home, Sarah found out that her name was Lana. She’d moved to the city after college, and she worked in some high rise downtown doing some corporate job that also probably just consisted of her wearing provocative outfits and being stared at by men who couldn’t have her. Lana was vegetarian (of course), backhandedly explaining how she watched her intake and stayed in shape, peering over at a heavier Sarah.

As soon as they got inside, Sarah stood awkwardly, unlacing her thrifted converse and putting them by the door. She was surprised that Lana didn’t take her shoes off instead walking over to her couch with her sneakers on and sitting down. “Come here,” Lana said, gesturing a doe-eyed Sarah over towards her. Before Sarah could sit down, Lana put her hand up and pointed at the ground. “Down.”

Sarah was surprised, but she wasn’t going to be one to argue. If anything, she felt happy to be here. She looked around the expensive apartment, the view of the city out the window. “You must make a ton of money to afford this place and all your sets of lulu clothing. I’ve never had a matching set.”

“Don’t get one. It wouldn’t fit you,” Lana said offhandedly, crossing her legs, her shoe dangling in front of Sarah’s face. “Unlace my shoe for me. Be a good slut. Do it slowly, too.”

Sarah obeyed, staying silent as she carefully undid the knot on top of her running shoes. She pulled each loop out until the tie was undone, carefully holding Lana’s foot in place as she loosened around the eyelets. She worked on them with excruciating care, not wanting to upset Lana. Lana explained to Sarah exactly what she had meant.”

“I bet they make sizes that fit you. Every company these days comes out with that kind of line for body sensitivity. But it just…wouldn’t work, you know? You’re not even that fat. Okay, fine, maybe you are a bit, but whatever. It’s more just that you wouldn’t look confident.”

Sarah worked on the other shoe as Lana uncrossed her legs, getting them both ready to take off.  “How would you know?”

“You wear a huge t-shirt because you’re insecure how you look. I wear pretty matching sets that cost more than your monthly membership because guys buy them for me for fun. I mean, they beg to get them for me, do they not for you?”

Sarah shook her head. She knew it was true, but hearing it stung.

“I mean, who wants to fuck a little foot bitch anyways?” Lana said, giggling. “Come on, take them off, bitch.” 

Sarah got wet hearing that. She pulled the first shoe off, and she set it down on the floor, holding Lana’s sweaty white sock in her hand. It was damp, but her foot felt so light and dainty like a fairy would. But, Sarah could smell it as soon as she took the shoe off. She had to stop herself from trying to stuff her nose in them instinctively. She was staring, again. 

“God, you subbies are so fucking obvious, you know?” Lana teased, sliding her other shoe off and letting it plop onto the floor. She held her legs up off the couch, her feet side by side in her sweaty socks dangling tantalizingly close to Sarah’s face. “Thank god you stared at me so much, you slut. Otherwise you would’ve never gotten up the guts to ask.”

She waved her feet in front of Sarah’s face, mocking her. “Well? Come on. Worship me if you want them so bad. Prove it.”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. She lunged her head forward to try to smell Lana’s socks, but Lana pulled them back slowly. Sarah’s whole body sat up, still on her knees but stretching to try to catch up and get a whiff. Mercifully, after seeing her squirm so much, Lana used her sole and toes to push Sarah’s head back gently, her foot covering Sarah’s face from top to bottom in her socks. Sarah’s nose was covered, and she couldn’t explain what she was feeling. It definitely didn’t smell good; it smelled horrible, actually. But, it was intoxicating. She needed it like a drug, like she didn’t need anything else in the whole world. She could breathe this as her air forever, and she’d be happy. 

“You’re so cute like that, even if it’s a little pathetic and really fucking gross,” Lana said, laughing at Sarah. “Did you think you were gonna come over to fuck me? Or did you know where this would end up?”

Sarah hummed happily, mumbling something, but she was smothered with the sock on top of her nose and mouth. 

“Aw, cute,” Lana told her, nodding her head as if Sarah said something remotely comprehensible. “Take the socks off for me.”

Sarah could feel the heat between her legs, the dampness of her panties against her pussy as she shifted back and forth on her knees. She didn’t think she’d get the chance to see Lana’s feet, and somehow, it felt like even more than she deserved to see. But, she wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. She quickly peeled Lana’s socks off, holding them in her hands. She could practically wring the sweat out. Sarah wanted them in her mouth so badly.

She looked at Lana’s soles, soft and smooth as ever, like she’d just gotten a pedicure. She could see her toenails curling, painted a soft blue color like her gym outfit. Everything about her was put together, perfect. If Sarah were a guy, she’d buy her whatever she wanted for a one percent chance at touching her feet, too. She stuck her face into Lana’s arch, instinctively pulling her tongue out from her mouth and licking the sweat off, leaving kisses along the way. Sarah was in a heaven she could have only dreamed of.

“Give me my socks,” Lana instructed, grabbing them from Sarah’s hand. She felt the dampness, and her face looked revolted. “Gross, oh my god. You’re such a fucking freak.” She threw them across the floor, over to the other side of the room. “Stay right here, bitch.”

Lana stood up and started walking down the hallway, her bare feet leaving sweat imprints on the hardwood floor as she made her way through the apartment. Once she was gone, Sarah stayed  in her kneeling position obediently, but all she could think about was the socks sitting across the room. Lana was being fucking cruel not letting her have those. She drooled, a drop of spit falling onto the floor. She felt messy. 

Thankfully, Lana’s footsteps grew louder, and her figure emerged from the hallway. She made her way back over to the couch, holding a vibrator and sitting down right where she was. “Oh, sorry, that was mean of me,” Lana said, reading Sarah’s mind. The poor thing was nearly tearing up from not being able to taste Lana’s socks. “Crawl and get them. Go fetch, puppy.”

Sarah took issue with being called that, but she was in no position to argue, so instead, she just whimpered. She scurried over on all fours, shuffling along the floor and picking the socks up with her feet. She brought them back over in her mouth to her original position.

“I’m gonna masturbate right here; I need a fucking orgasm. You’ve been good, so you can play with my feet during if you want. But don’t you even think about touching me above the fucking ankle, that’s for hot girls, not little foot bitches. Got it?”

Sarah set the socks down on the floor, lightly grinding her pussy against the damp fabric. The friction made her even more turned on somehow, but having something to hump gave her so much joy. She heard the vibrator click on, took Lana’s sole in her hand, and she gave it a slow, loving kiss. She didn’t need anything else. She was happy with Lana’s perfect feet being her whole world.