The Bet I Lost Against My Best Friend

My name is Adrián and, although I’m twenty-seven now, all of this happened when I had only just turned eighteen. From a very young age I was attracted to women’s feet and, even more, to the idea of being at their mercy. I’m telling this exactly as I remember it, with a bit of embellishment and, of course, with the names changed.

Back then I had just broken up with my first girlfriend. I was an intense kid, far too fixated on sex, and my friends knew it well enough. One of those friends was Lucía. Short, very fair-skinned and freckled, with a long, straight blond mane that fell to her waist.

She didn’t have a magazine face, but she radiated something hard to name. Very light blue eyes, thin lips, a waist that curved effortlessly. And, above all, the firmest legs in the school, ending in small feet I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at.

Our parents worked late, both hers and mine, and we were both only children. That meant empty houses and entire afternoons alone. Over time, our friendship started turning into something else: brushes that lasted a second too long, hands that lingered where they shouldn’t while we watched a movie.

One ordinary afternoon that summer, she came to my place. We flopped down on the living-room sofa, her legs tucked underneath her, and between laughs I let a stupid remark slip out.

—I’ve been without anyone for so long that my balls even hurt —I said, half joking, half serious.

Lucía had a reputation at school. If a boy went too far, a knee to the groin came without warning. And apparently, that day I was going to be the lucky one.

—The trick, Adrián, is making them hurt so much that you lose any desire for anything else —she replied with a calm that made my skin prickle.

I was speechless for a moment. Then I realized she was opening a door I’d been wanting to walk through for years.

—Well, I’d almost take that, just so I wouldn’t spend all day thinking about the same thing —I said, pretending to be indifferent.

—You know I’m the nutcracker of the class. I’ve always treated you well, but I could make an exception.

—I’ve seen you drop guys to the floor with one kick. I’m not sure I want to be one of them. Though I’ll admit it’s an ingenious solution.

—Come on! —she insisted, sitting up a little—. It’ll be fun.

—All right. But if I hold out, I should get something, right?

She thought about it for a moment, biting her lower lip the way she always did when she was plotting something.

—If you withstand ten kicks, you get to choose whatever you want.

My heart was beating so hard I feared she could hear it. I had to hold myself back so my eagerness wouldn’t show, so I twisted my face as if I wasn’t fully convinced.

—Ten is a lot. And if I do manage it, I think I’m going to make you have a bad time.

—What are you thinking, smartass? —she asked, nostrils flaring, amused and defiant at once.

—Your weak spot. Ten minutes with your feet.

—No way! You know I’m horribly ticklish.

—Seems like a fair deal to me, Lucía. Ten kicks from you. There’s risk for both of us.

She laughed, a long laugh, and in the end she gave in.

—Fine, I accept. But I’m warning you: you won’t last half of it.

***

By then, the original reason no longer mattered. Both of us are proud and competitive to an unhealthy degree, and the only thing on our minds was beating the other. Lucía stood up from the sofa, leaned toward me, and held out her hands for me to get to my feet, with a smile halfway between angelic and wicked.

I let myself go with it. But before starting, I raised a hand.

—Wait. Can it be without sneakers? That way I at least have a chance.

She agreed. With an ease that left my mouth dry, she slipped off her sneakers by rubbing them against each other. Then appeared two small feet, wrapped in white-and-pink-striped socks, worn through at the toe and heel until the outline of her toes showed through. By then I already had an erection I could barely hide.

—Is the boy happy now? —she teased when she noticed.

I only managed to nod. Her smile vanished at once and, in a much firmer voice, she ordered me to spread my legs. I obeyed without a word and adjusted the bulge under my shorts, knowing it was a lost cause.

Lucía took a step back. She lifted her foot and slowly slid it along my crotch, almost caressing me.

—I’m going to behave, don’t worry —she murmured.

One second later she drew her leg back and slammed it straight into me. The удар hit both testicles at once. I almost instinctively grabbed down there, but I managed to stay on my feet and, when I looked up, I gave her a defiant smile.

Any trace of pity disappeared from her face. The second kick came with a precision and force that seemed impossible in someone so small. Only a muffled groan escaped my throat; my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. I doubled over into a squat and she, laughing, shoved my forehead with the sole of her foot until I toppled onto my back.

—Give up, Adrián. You’re not going to last the eight left.

—Yes... yes I will —I said, crawling back up.

—Ready?

I nodded, looking down to see that beautiful foot crash into my most vulnerable point again.

The next three were hard, but I took them with absurd pride. Around the sixth, Lucía began to suspect I might actually pull it off, and she eased up a little; none of the blows after that were as brutal as the second. The sound of her foot striking my crotch echoed through the living room like hollow slaps, and each удар wore me down, especially on the left side.

When I had taken six, I ended up on my knees on the floor, out of breath. She bent down a little.

—Come on, champ, you can do it. Only four left —she said, then fixed her gaze on my bulge and smiled—. Besides, it looks like you’re enjoying it.

She was enjoying herself, that was obvious. Maybe more than I was, which is saying a lot. My erection was impossible to hide, and my face burned with embarrassment. I lowered my eyes to the floor, unable to hold her gaze.

Then she did something I wasn’t expecting. She turned around and brought her ass close enough that my nose sank between her cheeks, over the thin fabric of her pants.

—This is for making it past the halfway point —she said.

—Can you do them like this, on my knees? —I asked, my voice broken and my breath ragged against her body.

She agreed. The situation was already completely obscene: me kneeling, legs open, waiting to take more blows to the testicles from a tiny girl who was handling me however she pleased.

***

The blows continued, and with them that dull thudding sound. On the last one, Lucía put all her strength into it and left the top of her foot pressed against me for a few eternal seconds. I collapsed onto the floor curled up in a fetal position, half to ease the pain and half to be closer to her feet.

My face ended up resting against both of them. She pulled one foot away, lifted it, and placed it on my cheek, trapping me between her two soles. I stayed like that, breathing in her scent, not wanting to move.

After a few minutes she sat on the sofa and I settled on the floor in front of her, taking her right foot in my hands.

—This has left my balls mashed to pulp —I complained.

—Don’t be dramatic —she laughed—. Besides, I’ve been generous with your little friends. It’s only going to be five minutes with my feet, not ten.

I removed her sock very slowly, finally uncovering what I had wanted so badly. It was an almost perfect foot: no rough spots beyond the heel, a pronounced arch, small toes topped with natural nails. I started by tickling her, amid struggling and laughter, until I moved on to massaging it. I traced every toe, every millimeter of that soft, young skin, and little by little she began to relax.

—Mmm... I like it. Without the tickling it’s not bad at all. In the end the punishment isn’t so terrible —she admitted, letting herself go.

She brought the other foot closer. I took it, removed the sock, and repeated the same slow ritual. But then the foot I had already pampered lowered itself to my crotch and pressed my penis against my body, slowly, measuring my reaction. I closed my eyes. For a moment I thought it might go further.

The phone cut everything off. Lucía looked at the screen, sighed, and stood up.

—I have to go. But we’re doing this again. This and a lot more —she said, and as she got up she crushed my bulge against the floor with the sole of her foot, unhurriedly.

I was left stunned, unable to say a word. I walked her to the door and we said goodbye with two kisses. Just before leaving, looking me straight in the eyes, she raised her knee and drove it one last time into my battered testicles. I stood frozen, doubled over in pain, watching her walk away while that ass swayed down the street.

It took me days to recover fully. But not once did I wish I had never accepted that bet. That afternoon I discovered something about myself that I could no longer ignore: that my place, my real place, was right there, on the floor, at her feet.