Warrior428
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Synopsis:
Somewhere in Europe, there have been reports of a rare case of foot fetish that’s so intense it is actually considered a full fledge behavioral disorder. Safely locked away at the Smithsonian Institute, are documents of a psychiatrist’s journal on the last confirmed case overseas. These documents have been translated by the Language Department of Harvard University, as told by Dr. Svetlana Tsyganok, the psychiatrist who was involved since the beginning.
PRAGUE, CZECHOSLOVAKIA - APRIL 28, 1987;
THE OFFICE OF DR. SVETLANA TSYGANOK, Ph.D - PSYCHIATRIST SPECIALIZING IN BEHAVIORAL DISORDERS.
April 28, 1987; 10:05am
This is nothing short of remarkable. Fascinating! How can something so trivial evolve into such a rare scenario? I’ve only heard stories of it at first, rumors at best. Then the following year I remembered the amazing article in the newspaper about a man being charged with sexual harassment and the only visible marks he left where on his victim’s feet. The article proved that the rumors were correct. That there is an official behavioral disorder that actually caught the psychiatric profession off guard.
None of us here were prepared for something like this. It really sneaked up on us. The gentleman in the newspaper article was committed to the psychiatric hospital for the rest of his life. Two more cases of Podiamania, that’s what the European Psychiatric Committee decided to call it, came up. One here and the other in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Both men were deported to other countries. I consider them both missed opportunities. I thought it would spread like wildfire, but alas, things went quiet for two whole years.
That is until now. Mr. Yuri Valitz, a former podiatrist but had his license taken away for charges of sexual harassment and unprofessional behavior toward his female patients. He was referred to me by a friend of mine from college, and I was most appreciative. He is my first chronic Podiamaniac, and I am breaking new ground in my career. Unlike the others, I am not going to dismiss this as simple insanity, I’m going to dig very deep into this new and amazing disorder. I strongly feel that the other doctors who looked at the previous cases didn’t give it much of a chance. Probably didn’t want to waste their time dealing with a person with a gnawing hunger for pretty female feet.
This will be his sixth visit into my office. His first visit, I remember very well, it was so interesting I had my secretary clear my schedules for the rest of the day. I devoted the entire day to him, listening to him and getting to know him, to learn more about this virgin disease that I would be the first to unravel. And it IS a disease, not a fetish. You don’t throw away your career over a fetish.
Ah yes! That first visit was a very productive and interesting meeting.....
“Thank you for seeing me Dr. Tsyganok. I am in dire need for assistance.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Valitz. Please, have a seat, here let me help you.”
“Thank you. I bet you’re wondering why I’m wearing a blindfold.”
“Yes, let’s start our session with that. Why hide your eyes?”
“It’s not that I’m hiding or protecting my eyes. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. It’s my mind. You see, this blindfold is actually for YOUR protection.”
“My protection?”
“Precisely. I already know that you’re female. My ‘shortcoming’ has gotten so bad that if I even have a conversation with a female, I would do or say anything that involves me touching her feet, regardless of what kind of footwear she is wearing. This blindfold keeps the demons at bay.”
“Are you saying that your mental condition is so extreme, that if you weren’t blindfolded you would try to persuade or convince me to let you play with my feet, even if I was wearing combat boots?”
“Exactly. I learned that the hard way. I had a falling out with my next-door neighbor, whom I have known for fifteen years, because of my lack of restraint and understanding. Deep down, I’m really not a bad person. I guess you could say that I’m a foot-a-holic.”
“Incredible! A typical foot fetishist is prone to just staring at women’s feet and just fantasizing.”
“Correct. However, that is what separates a minor foot fetish from my condition, Podiamania. Just looking at a woman’s bare feet is not enough, far from it, I need physical contact with the foot. I have to touch, feel, caress, sniff, lick, kiss, hold, play and yes, tickle the foot. For as long as I can. There is no fantasizing, the fantasy is lived out immediately. Even if you were sitting behind your big desk you still wouldn’t be safe without the blindfold. My vision would tell me that your female and my hearing would tell me that your feet are moving under the desk. So I suggest that you don’t make any sudden leg movements. Without my ear plugs, I’m taking a big risk. And if you silently take your shoes off behind the desk, my nose would pick up your scent. Trust me, unless it’s a man, the person I’m talking to would have to have both their feet amputated for me to keep my calm. Good thing I thought of this blindfold idea.”
“This has got to be the most unprecedented thing ever. Tell me, is it just the pretty, well groomed feet? Not ALL women have pretty feet.”
“NO. Podiamania knows not of beauty. Regardless of the condition of the foot, as long as the foot is female, I could strike.”
“Strike? Strike? Do you try to hurt your victims?”
“Heavens no! When I make my move, I try to do it under the guise of playfulness. I make them think that I’m joking around with them. So the scene I create is a harmless scene. When they realize that I’ve gone too far they withdraw, I do not try to fight them physically. I beg and plead with them, but nothing physical. Please keep in mind that’s just me. I’m not a violent person to begin with. I can’t say the same for the next Podiamaniac.”
“This next question is very important. Since it’s strictly women, you don’t go after children, do you?”
“Now, I am very proud to say that there is one standard that I DO have control over. Only adults, NEVER minors, nor senior citizens, either. My affliction does not override my sense of right and wrong, nor does it affect my sexuality. I’m straight.”
“What about other things, like, are you married?”
“No, I’ve never been married. Probably never will at that. If I had a wife, I’d lose her to Podiamania. She would see me trying to play with other women’s feet and file for divorce. I’ve had this problem since I started my career. Before then I’ve been way to busy with college and medical school to socialize with others. I’m not a parent either.”
“You have no children?”
“Correct. If I did, they would be taken away from me, or left with their mother. Let’s just say that because of this thing I wouldn’t be able to provide for them properly. Did you know I lost 50lbs from spending more time with fem-feet than eating?”
“Where do you see yourself ten years from now?”
“In a sanitarium, which is why I’m here. Hopefully you can change that outcome.”
“I’ll do the best I can. For starters, the more information you give me, the better. Please keep in mind, this disorder is very new to the profession. I’m probably the first and only psychiatrist who’s willing to analyze and study this new pattern. So don’t spare me any details.”
“Well on that note, I shall begin. Let me tell you, I think fate had something to do with this whole thing. You’ll see once I go into the details. Before this whole thing started I never had a foot fetish. Through my college years and graduate school, everything was great. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary even happened while I was studying podiatry. You’d figure all those pictures of feet would’ve lit the fuse, but no.”
“Please continue.”
“It was within the first year after getting my license and credentials, and opening up my own practice. That’s when the symptoms started. Here’s where fate comes in. During that whole time I had my practice, I never had any male patients, just women. They were all very lovely, took good care of themselves. I was the best podiatrist in town. I got lots of referrals. The thing women deal with day in and day out is that in the business world you really have to go that extra mile to stay ahead of the game. I’m speaking about the dress code in a typical corporation. I tell women time and time again that high heel shoes are really bad for a woman’s feet over time. They really pay for it too.”
“Every day...every...single...day, I have had female patients come to my office. Sometimes ten, sometimes fifteen, sitting in my waiting room. And all of them was wearing a skirt of some kind. Some were dressed professionally, some casually, and the rest in between. As I move between examination rooms, I pass by the waiting area and see...my ‘harem’. That’s the first word that popped into my head when I saw this vision of a room full of gorgeous females, all of them sitting crossed-legged, dangling their pumps from their toes. And they all smile at me while doing so. It’s as if they were saying...
‘We want you to play with our feet, Dr. Valitz. We love the way you touch our legs and feet, Dr. Valitz. You have an angel’s touch, Dr. Valitz. We get pedicures just for you, Dr. Valitz. Do you make house calls, Dr. Valitz? We would love to get you in the privacy of our homes, Dr. Valitz. Are you single, Dr. Valitz? Are you married, Dr. Valitz? Are you horny, Dr. Valitz? You’re pitching a tent, Dr. Valitz. Wanna foot job, Dr. Valitz? See you soon, Dr. Valitz.’
Then, I would turn around and see my assistants and staff. They’re all female too, and they are just standing there smiling at me too. As if they were saying...
‘Don’t you worry, Dr. Valitz. We’ll get them right to you, Dr. Valitz. Every single one of them, Dr. Valitz. We’re gonna keep you busy, Dr. Valitz. And when you’re done with them, Dr. Valitz. It’ll be our turn, Dr. Valitz. You’re very handsome, Dr. Valitz. You have sexy lips, Dr. Valitz. I wanna stick my toes in your mouth, Dr. Valitz. Did you know that, Dr. Valitz? I’ll bet you didn’t know that, Dr. Valitz. You’re gonna find out soon enough, Dr. Valitz. I’m gonna walk all over you...Dr. Valitz.’
Then...I would enter an exam room. There, sitting on the examination bed, a striking blonde business woman with her right leg crossed on top of her left, barefoot and very relaxed. She has this look on her face that she knows that I’m going to do something to her feet and it’s going to make them feel much better. She smiles at me, we exchange greetings. She’s wearing a basic black business suit with a skirt just past her knees, which accentuates her impressive gams, a wonderful backdrop to a pretty foot. Like sprinkling flavor enhancer on a sizzling steak. She’s acting very relaxed, not nervous at all. Granted she’s seen me many times, but she has this contented look on her face like she trusts me to be very professional. Sitting there, flipping her hair side to side, like she’s sunbathing or something. I grab my stool and sit down, lowering myself to be eye-level with her feet. I complimented her on her pedicure, it looked to be very recent. She was very proud of it too. She moved her right foot a little closer to my face to show me all the details they did at the salon. Once she started doing that, I felt a strong pulsating sensation in my groin like a secondary heartbeat. I closed my eyes, swallowed and opened them again, regaining my focus.
Since pedicures sensitizes feet, I knew that my exam was going to tickle her. I start with a little reflexology, holding her foot with my left hand. With my index finger, I start a the tip of her big toe and gently glide along her instep, past her high arch, then toward her heel. She responds by curling her toes. The traditional fire engine red nail polish catching my attention. Next I reverse my hand and trail two of my fingers from the ball of her foot toward her heel via her nice pink sole. I noticed she threw her head back softly trying to hold her giggles. The toes on her other foot started flexing too. This is about that time that I would forget why I was there. I would be lost in this ‘footopia’ she created for me. Then I would come back down to earth and realize that I wouldn’t find anything wrong with both of her feet, then send her back to the receptionist.
It was pretty much the same for the rest of them. In between seeing patients, I must’ve masturbated at least ten times for one entire day at the office.”
“Astonishing! That was the norm, you say?”
“Pretty much. Except for that dreaded evening...”
“It was almost closing time. All of my staff had already left for today. My doors were still open. I was going through some files when I heard someone call for help. I came out front to find this lady who looked to be in a lot of pain. She really needed my help, so I obliged. After taking down her information, she was a government employee who relocated here a few months ago. Since it was just the two of us there, I had to set her up myself. After getting her in a chair and removing her shoes, she told me that she’s having a sharp spasm in her left foot near the ball. She could barely walk on it.”
“I told her to relax and began a massage on both of her feet to calm her down. After twenty minutes into the massage, she fell asleep. She was probably in pain for so long it really wore her out. I gave her left foot a small local anesthetic and went to examine the foot. She took pretty good care of her feet. It looked to be a size eight, no nail polish and a well developed arch. Her soles were deceptively thick and looked very soft. I started checking around the ball and toe area and couldn’t find anything. I pressed my palm against the heel and arch, everything there looked fine. After checking her Achilles tendon I concluded that there was nothing in her foot that didn’t belong. No cysts, blood clots or any of the sort.”
“She was still sleeping, and I still sat down there in my chair eyeballing her luscious peds. I have been holding back since she arrived, I couldn’t hold out any longer. I caressed her foot with my left hand and brought it up to my face, rubbing my cheek along the instep. Her foot was still numb from the anesthetic, so I figured why not, I wouldn’t wake her with this numb foot. It felt wonderful, so soft and tender. My heart was racing. I started rubbing her foot circles around my mouth and chin, taking in the scent. Then I started exploring her sole with my fingers. Checking the surface texture, no imperfections whatsoever. Overall a very well-groomed foot, nice and clean. It was an average looking foot, not too long, not too wide. I traced baroque patterns on her sole toward her heel, all the while my tongue decided that it was time to be productive and went cave exploring in between her toes.”
“I started with the smallest cave, between the forth and fifth toe. Just enough space for the tip of my tongue. Basically it was a little tight in there my tongue tip pushing aside the two toes, fighting for elbow room. Next I went to the next cave, traveling along the ledge at the base of her toes. This cave had a little more room, pretty cozy, but I didn’t stay very long. The next cave I checked out was much better. I started to sense my hormones bubbling as I kept this up. I was in heaven. The cave I was in now gave me enough room to flutter my tongue like a tiny butterfly. It felt exhilarating, such freedom to frolic around this nice cave. I stayed there for a while before moving to the last cave. This one, between the big and second toe was the biggest cave yet. All of my tongue was able to slide in there. The urges have gotten so strong, I lost control and completely surrendered to my lust. I started sucking her big toe, then worked on the rest for about ten minutes. Next I ran my lips down the ball of her foot and spent some time licking my tongue along her arch. My eyes were closed the entire time, since the beginning. I felt one of my thighs getting a little heavier, so I loosened my pants and released the extra weight. I let my left hand tend to that matter down there while my right was helping me enjoy my moment. I kept tasting and tasting. Rubbing and feeling. I was getting more and more into it. I did not want this to end. My mind was so free, getting this need satisfied, I was oblivious to where I was, who I was with. None of that mattered, I was feasting on ecstasy. Twenty minutes have passed, and I’m still enjoying it. I covered every inch of her left foot. I officially knew everything about it. Still fueled by my lust, I grabbed the other foot and begin tasting it.”
“Five minutes later, I realized, her other foot wasn’t numb! OH NO!”
“She woke up, looked down at what I was doing to her poor feet, and screamed the loudest most condemning scream ever. I will never forget that scream for as long as I live. For that was the sound of my young career coming to an abrupt end, and my life changing for the worse. That scream still haunts me to this day. She pressed charges and my lawyer was able to get me some psychiatric help, but it really didn’t help. Now, I’m a recluse, not socializing with anybody to keep myself out of trouble. It’s hard, but I’m hanging in there.”
…That concluded the first meeting, his introductory and origins. He came by very regularly, almost weekly. One session in particular I can recall…
August 13, 1987; 9:00am
“Good morning, Mr. Valitz. Here, let me help you to the chair. So tell me, how are things with you?”
“Oh Dr. Tsyganok, not too good. One weekend, intense boredom forced me to venture out and walk around for a while. It was about 6:30pm and I took a shortcut through the park. As I came out on the other side, there was a neighborhood of small rental houses, I guess a subdivision. Walking further behind these houses I came across a young woman about maybe her mid-twenties. She was pinned on her back under a big pile of boxes that she was probably throwing out. My guess is she just moved in recently. She must’ve been alone, because she wasn’t crying for help. None of the other neighbors were around. She was completely covered except for her head and bare feet.”
“Then……..I lost it.”
“I sneaked toward her. You see, there was an advantage, the pile of boxes was very tall which meant that she couldn’t see over it. I quietly approached her on the side of the pile where her feet were. My mouth was watering, hands were twitching. I knelt down and got a good whiff of her tender soles. I said nothing, kept quiet, she didn’t even knew I was there. Using a single index finger, I started playing with her toes. At the first touch they started responding. Wiggling up and down, left and right, to and fro. So on and so forth. She must’ve assumed it was a bug on her feet and tried to flick it off. All her toes were wiggling violently. I kept piggying them and kept silent, she wasn’t the wiser. Next I drew circles around the ball of her feet. I could hear her squirming under the weight of the boxes and also hearing little grunts and moans. Oh yes, she’s ticklish on her feet, that’s confirmed.”
“Then I started to get aggressive. More fingers, more speed. She started to complain something about a dog. Maybe the neighbors have pets and frequently trespass in her yard. I believe she thinks a dog is licking her feet. Her complaints were becoming more and more like giggles as I started running my active fingers along her arches and soles. Her laughter rose completely to the surface after five minutes of intense finger tickling. Another ten minutes and I never relented. She finally figured out that there was someone tickling her feet. With my luck, she’ll think it’s a kid.”
“She tried to lift herself up, but the boxes held firm. Plus the laughter I was pulling out of her lungs was breaking her concentration. There was no hope for her, I on the other hand was enjoying it. Her feet were lovely, just swaying this way and that trying to find salvation. The only thing they found was an eager beaver of a finger obstructing its swaying path. Her screams and giggles were getting louder. Her semi-thrashing body was causing a rustling with the pile of boxes. I was so into it, I didn’t realize that the sun was setting. Her salvation was in the form of a passer by jogging down the road. Once he shouted, I took off. The victim never saw my face. So I guess I got away with that episode.”
...Ever since that first session, he’s been dodging arrest warrants in between visits with me. It’s only a matter of time before he ends up either in prison, deported, or institutionalized. If that happens, I’ll lose him and this may be my last opportunity. I strongly feel that now is the time to make a drastic proposal.
October 10, 1987; 12 noon
Mr. Valitz arrived at my office. As we sit down I ask him how he’s been doing. So far he’s been ok, aside from the threatening phone calls and foreign objects thrown through his windows. His reputation is starting to precede him. It’s a good chance he might get seriously hurt. He could be hunted by an angry mob, goodness I hope nobody comes up with that idea. For the sake of his own safety and well being, I have to make this proposal. Since turning me down is not an option, I must show him what he could gain first.
“Mr. Valitz, I have something to offer you. This is going to be a tremendous change, but I strongly feel that this is the best solution for you in dealing with Podiamania. Also keep this in mind, if you choose to do this, this will be the last time you will have to visit me in THIS capacity.”
“Ok, sure. What is it that you have for me?”
“First my friend, I need to give you a small initiation. I need to make sure of something.”
I call my secretary in the intercom and order her to clear my schedule for the rest of the day and not to disturb me under any circumstances. Next, I take my shoes off. I’m ten feet away from him, he’s wearing his blindfold yet he still senses it.
“Dr. Tsyganok what are you doing? I can smell your bare feet.”
My heavens, he even detected that I’m not wearing pantyhose or socks. Impressive!
“Just a second, Mr. Valitz I’ll be right with you.”
I sit down behind my desk prop my big bare feet on the desk, then call for him.
“Mr. Valitz. I need for you to listen very carefully. First, remove your blindfold. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
He removes his blindfold. He has a very handsome face, such lovely green eyes. All to compliment that cute smile of his. He’s already staring at my feet.
“Mr. Valitz, until you hear me say ‘stop’, I want you to come over here and...”
Before I even finished my order he obeyed. Stepping quickly toward my awaiting tootsies. He grabbed one of the other chairs and sat at the other side of my desk. He closed his eyes and went to work.
My, my, MY if he didn’t have the softest lips! He ran them around the ball of my right foot, it was very relaxing. After a few minutes, I was having trouble containing my pleasure. But then I remembered who was enjoying my feet, a chronic Podiamaniac, so I gave in to his gracious skill. His kisses felt wonderful, he was just planting them one by one all over my sole, then he repeated the process on my left foot. Next he took my left sole and rubbed it against his face. He must be naturally hairless, I didn’t feel any stubble at all. Minutes later, he started working his tongue around my toes. He must be doing some of that ‘cave exploring’ he spoke of months ago. His tongue felt good, very good. Then he began sucking my toes with the utmost skill. I was in heaven. My body was losing control. He kept it up for a whole ten minutes and my body let out a shiver strong enough to rattle my desk. That didn’t even stop him. When he started sucking the toes on the other foot he gave me another shiver within fifteen minutes. Oh my god, he was wonderful! I needed to wipe my brow.
Next, he started to slowly drag his fingertips along my left sole. Up from the heel, through the arch then toward the base of my toes. He’s going to tickle my feet next, I can see it coming. He’s just testing my reflexes now, in minutes he’ll be going full force. When he finally got into it, he was running his fingertips along the left sole. His fingers are very quick, sent chills up my spine. I threw my head back and sounds I didn’t know I had flowed out of my mouth. I didn’t feel like a licensed professional anymore, I felt like I was back in boarding school having slumber parties with my classmates. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I was actually beginning to feel young again, how wonderful. He took his other hand and begun tickling my entire toe area, including the base. Gave me quite a ‘whoop’ indeed. When he started on my right foot, my chest started tingling and my body temperature was rising. I was in for another one apparently, when it finally happened, he slowed his pace all of a sudden. I look to see that he was shivering too. Don’t tell me he just had an orgasm. Both his hands are on my feet.
History has just been made here. He and myself had just experienced asexual orgasms. We both achieve an orgasm WITHOUT any genital stimulation of any kind between the both of us. I decided to use this opportunity to stop the activity and order him to go back to his seat and put his blindfold back on.
“Oh, Mr. Valitz. May I call you Yury?”
“Oh, please do. And may I say that you have lovely feet.”
“Thank you, darling. And you may call me Madame Tsyganok.”
“Madame Tsyganok?”
“Yes dear, allow me to explain. I came up with a solution to your problem. That is ‘trial by fire’. I propose that the best way to deal with Podiamania is to satisfy it regularly. Now, this is for your ears only. I have an alternative lifestyle. I own an S&M club on the outer skirts of town. It’s underground and I cater to every fetish that’s out there. That initiation I just gave you, let me tell you, you passed with flying colors. You see, including myself, I have customers who ADORE having their feet worshiped. The people who are in my club are pretty good, but you can put them all to shame. Unlike the people in your current life, these people will not judge or hurt you, instead they will appreciate you and not treat you like garbage. With your skill, you’ll become the most popular Podiamaniac in my club. Just like when you were the most popular Podiatrist years ago.”
“So how’s about it? Give up this life of seclusion and fear and keep hiding your eyes in darkness. Or, join me in my world where the light is, away from rules and restrictions. Surrounded by people who enjoy doing what they feel and making sure that others enjoy themselves. Plus, you can have all the feet you can eat. What do you say?”
I offer him my extended hand and he takes it. We shake on a new and better friendship. After experiencing first hand what he can do with a pair of feet. He will make an excellent foot-slave and an excellent tickler. Under my tutelage, he will move mountains. I wonder if I should tell him that I really have no intentions of curing him, that I was just using it as an excuse for looking for some fresh meat for my club. My office is more of a front than an office. My secretary is probably at the club now tickling some customers.
Ah yes, I always wanted my very own Podiamaniac. I hope I find more like him...before the rest of society does.
Somewhere in Europe, there have been reports of a rare case of foot fetish that’s so intense it is actually considered a full fledge behavioral disorder. Safely locked away at the Smithsonian Institute, are documents of a psychiatrist’s journal on the last confirmed case overseas. These documents have been translated by the Language Department of Harvard University, as told by Dr. Svetlana Tsyganok, the psychiatrist who was involved since the beginning.
PRAGUE, CZECHOSLOVAKIA - APRIL 28, 1987;
THE OFFICE OF DR. SVETLANA TSYGANOK, Ph.D - PSYCHIATRIST SPECIALIZING IN BEHAVIORAL DISORDERS.
April 28, 1987; 10:05am
This is nothing short of remarkable. Fascinating! How can something so trivial evolve into such a rare scenario? I’ve only heard stories of it at first, rumors at best. Then the following year I remembered the amazing article in the newspaper about a man being charged with sexual harassment and the only visible marks he left where on his victim’s feet. The article proved that the rumors were correct. That there is an official behavioral disorder that actually caught the psychiatric profession off guard.
None of us here were prepared for something like this. It really sneaked up on us. The gentleman in the newspaper article was committed to the psychiatric hospital for the rest of his life. Two more cases of Podiamania, that’s what the European Psychiatric Committee decided to call it, came up. One here and the other in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Both men were deported to other countries. I consider them both missed opportunities. I thought it would spread like wildfire, but alas, things went quiet for two whole years.
That is until now. Mr. Yuri Valitz, a former podiatrist but had his license taken away for charges of sexual harassment and unprofessional behavior toward his female patients. He was referred to me by a friend of mine from college, and I was most appreciative. He is my first chronic Podiamaniac, and I am breaking new ground in my career. Unlike the others, I am not going to dismiss this as simple insanity, I’m going to dig very deep into this new and amazing disorder. I strongly feel that the other doctors who looked at the previous cases didn’t give it much of a chance. Probably didn’t want to waste their time dealing with a person with a gnawing hunger for pretty female feet.
This will be his sixth visit into my office. His first visit, I remember very well, it was so interesting I had my secretary clear my schedules for the rest of the day. I devoted the entire day to him, listening to him and getting to know him, to learn more about this virgin disease that I would be the first to unravel. And it IS a disease, not a fetish. You don’t throw away your career over a fetish.
Ah yes! That first visit was a very productive and interesting meeting.....
“Thank you for seeing me Dr. Tsyganok. I am in dire need for assistance.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Valitz. Please, have a seat, here let me help you.”
“Thank you. I bet you’re wondering why I’m wearing a blindfold.”
“Yes, let’s start our session with that. Why hide your eyes?”
“It’s not that I’m hiding or protecting my eyes. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. It’s my mind. You see, this blindfold is actually for YOUR protection.”
“My protection?”
“Precisely. I already know that you’re female. My ‘shortcoming’ has gotten so bad that if I even have a conversation with a female, I would do or say anything that involves me touching her feet, regardless of what kind of footwear she is wearing. This blindfold keeps the demons at bay.”
“Are you saying that your mental condition is so extreme, that if you weren’t blindfolded you would try to persuade or convince me to let you play with my feet, even if I was wearing combat boots?”
“Exactly. I learned that the hard way. I had a falling out with my next-door neighbor, whom I have known for fifteen years, because of my lack of restraint and understanding. Deep down, I’m really not a bad person. I guess you could say that I’m a foot-a-holic.”
“Incredible! A typical foot fetishist is prone to just staring at women’s feet and just fantasizing.”
“Correct. However, that is what separates a minor foot fetish from my condition, Podiamania. Just looking at a woman’s bare feet is not enough, far from it, I need physical contact with the foot. I have to touch, feel, caress, sniff, lick, kiss, hold, play and yes, tickle the foot. For as long as I can. There is no fantasizing, the fantasy is lived out immediately. Even if you were sitting behind your big desk you still wouldn’t be safe without the blindfold. My vision would tell me that your female and my hearing would tell me that your feet are moving under the desk. So I suggest that you don’t make any sudden leg movements. Without my ear plugs, I’m taking a big risk. And if you silently take your shoes off behind the desk, my nose would pick up your scent. Trust me, unless it’s a man, the person I’m talking to would have to have both their feet amputated for me to keep my calm. Good thing I thought of this blindfold idea.”
“This has got to be the most unprecedented thing ever. Tell me, is it just the pretty, well groomed feet? Not ALL women have pretty feet.”
“NO. Podiamania knows not of beauty. Regardless of the condition of the foot, as long as the foot is female, I could strike.”
“Strike? Strike? Do you try to hurt your victims?”
“Heavens no! When I make my move, I try to do it under the guise of playfulness. I make them think that I’m joking around with them. So the scene I create is a harmless scene. When they realize that I’ve gone too far they withdraw, I do not try to fight them physically. I beg and plead with them, but nothing physical. Please keep in mind that’s just me. I’m not a violent person to begin with. I can’t say the same for the next Podiamaniac.”
“This next question is very important. Since it’s strictly women, you don’t go after children, do you?”
“Now, I am very proud to say that there is one standard that I DO have control over. Only adults, NEVER minors, nor senior citizens, either. My affliction does not override my sense of right and wrong, nor does it affect my sexuality. I’m straight.”
“What about other things, like, are you married?”
“No, I’ve never been married. Probably never will at that. If I had a wife, I’d lose her to Podiamania. She would see me trying to play with other women’s feet and file for divorce. I’ve had this problem since I started my career. Before then I’ve been way to busy with college and medical school to socialize with others. I’m not a parent either.”
“You have no children?”
“Correct. If I did, they would be taken away from me, or left with their mother. Let’s just say that because of this thing I wouldn’t be able to provide for them properly. Did you know I lost 50lbs from spending more time with fem-feet than eating?”
“Where do you see yourself ten years from now?”
“In a sanitarium, which is why I’m here. Hopefully you can change that outcome.”
“I’ll do the best I can. For starters, the more information you give me, the better. Please keep in mind, this disorder is very new to the profession. I’m probably the first and only psychiatrist who’s willing to analyze and study this new pattern. So don’t spare me any details.”
“Well on that note, I shall begin. Let me tell you, I think fate had something to do with this whole thing. You’ll see once I go into the details. Before this whole thing started I never had a foot fetish. Through my college years and graduate school, everything was great. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary even happened while I was studying podiatry. You’d figure all those pictures of feet would’ve lit the fuse, but no.”
“Please continue.”
“It was within the first year after getting my license and credentials, and opening up my own practice. That’s when the symptoms started. Here’s where fate comes in. During that whole time I had my practice, I never had any male patients, just women. They were all very lovely, took good care of themselves. I was the best podiatrist in town. I got lots of referrals. The thing women deal with day in and day out is that in the business world you really have to go that extra mile to stay ahead of the game. I’m speaking about the dress code in a typical corporation. I tell women time and time again that high heel shoes are really bad for a woman’s feet over time. They really pay for it too.”
“Every day...every...single...day, I have had female patients come to my office. Sometimes ten, sometimes fifteen, sitting in my waiting room. And all of them was wearing a skirt of some kind. Some were dressed professionally, some casually, and the rest in between. As I move between examination rooms, I pass by the waiting area and see...my ‘harem’. That’s the first word that popped into my head when I saw this vision of a room full of gorgeous females, all of them sitting crossed-legged, dangling their pumps from their toes. And they all smile at me while doing so. It’s as if they were saying...
‘We want you to play with our feet, Dr. Valitz. We love the way you touch our legs and feet, Dr. Valitz. You have an angel’s touch, Dr. Valitz. We get pedicures just for you, Dr. Valitz. Do you make house calls, Dr. Valitz? We would love to get you in the privacy of our homes, Dr. Valitz. Are you single, Dr. Valitz? Are you married, Dr. Valitz? Are you horny, Dr. Valitz? You’re pitching a tent, Dr. Valitz. Wanna foot job, Dr. Valitz? See you soon, Dr. Valitz.’
Then, I would turn around and see my assistants and staff. They’re all female too, and they are just standing there smiling at me too. As if they were saying...
‘Don’t you worry, Dr. Valitz. We’ll get them right to you, Dr. Valitz. Every single one of them, Dr. Valitz. We’re gonna keep you busy, Dr. Valitz. And when you’re done with them, Dr. Valitz. It’ll be our turn, Dr. Valitz. You’re very handsome, Dr. Valitz. You have sexy lips, Dr. Valitz. I wanna stick my toes in your mouth, Dr. Valitz. Did you know that, Dr. Valitz? I’ll bet you didn’t know that, Dr. Valitz. You’re gonna find out soon enough, Dr. Valitz. I’m gonna walk all over you...Dr. Valitz.’
Then...I would enter an exam room. There, sitting on the examination bed, a striking blonde business woman with her right leg crossed on top of her left, barefoot and very relaxed. She has this look on her face that she knows that I’m going to do something to her feet and it’s going to make them feel much better. She smiles at me, we exchange greetings. She’s wearing a basic black business suit with a skirt just past her knees, which accentuates her impressive gams, a wonderful backdrop to a pretty foot. Like sprinkling flavor enhancer on a sizzling steak. She’s acting very relaxed, not nervous at all. Granted she’s seen me many times, but she has this contented look on her face like she trusts me to be very professional. Sitting there, flipping her hair side to side, like she’s sunbathing or something. I grab my stool and sit down, lowering myself to be eye-level with her feet. I complimented her on her pedicure, it looked to be very recent. She was very proud of it too. She moved her right foot a little closer to my face to show me all the details they did at the salon. Once she started doing that, I felt a strong pulsating sensation in my groin like a secondary heartbeat. I closed my eyes, swallowed and opened them again, regaining my focus.
Since pedicures sensitizes feet, I knew that my exam was going to tickle her. I start with a little reflexology, holding her foot with my left hand. With my index finger, I start a the tip of her big toe and gently glide along her instep, past her high arch, then toward her heel. She responds by curling her toes. The traditional fire engine red nail polish catching my attention. Next I reverse my hand and trail two of my fingers from the ball of her foot toward her heel via her nice pink sole. I noticed she threw her head back softly trying to hold her giggles. The toes on her other foot started flexing too. This is about that time that I would forget why I was there. I would be lost in this ‘footopia’ she created for me. Then I would come back down to earth and realize that I wouldn’t find anything wrong with both of her feet, then send her back to the receptionist.
It was pretty much the same for the rest of them. In between seeing patients, I must’ve masturbated at least ten times for one entire day at the office.”
“Astonishing! That was the norm, you say?”
“Pretty much. Except for that dreaded evening...”
“It was almost closing time. All of my staff had already left for today. My doors were still open. I was going through some files when I heard someone call for help. I came out front to find this lady who looked to be in a lot of pain. She really needed my help, so I obliged. After taking down her information, she was a government employee who relocated here a few months ago. Since it was just the two of us there, I had to set her up myself. After getting her in a chair and removing her shoes, she told me that she’s having a sharp spasm in her left foot near the ball. She could barely walk on it.”
“I told her to relax and began a massage on both of her feet to calm her down. After twenty minutes into the massage, she fell asleep. She was probably in pain for so long it really wore her out. I gave her left foot a small local anesthetic and went to examine the foot. She took pretty good care of her feet. It looked to be a size eight, no nail polish and a well developed arch. Her soles were deceptively thick and looked very soft. I started checking around the ball and toe area and couldn’t find anything. I pressed my palm against the heel and arch, everything there looked fine. After checking her Achilles tendon I concluded that there was nothing in her foot that didn’t belong. No cysts, blood clots or any of the sort.”
“She was still sleeping, and I still sat down there in my chair eyeballing her luscious peds. I have been holding back since she arrived, I couldn’t hold out any longer. I caressed her foot with my left hand and brought it up to my face, rubbing my cheek along the instep. Her foot was still numb from the anesthetic, so I figured why not, I wouldn’t wake her with this numb foot. It felt wonderful, so soft and tender. My heart was racing. I started rubbing her foot circles around my mouth and chin, taking in the scent. Then I started exploring her sole with my fingers. Checking the surface texture, no imperfections whatsoever. Overall a very well-groomed foot, nice and clean. It was an average looking foot, not too long, not too wide. I traced baroque patterns on her sole toward her heel, all the while my tongue decided that it was time to be productive and went cave exploring in between her toes.”
“I started with the smallest cave, between the forth and fifth toe. Just enough space for the tip of my tongue. Basically it was a little tight in there my tongue tip pushing aside the two toes, fighting for elbow room. Next I went to the next cave, traveling along the ledge at the base of her toes. This cave had a little more room, pretty cozy, but I didn’t stay very long. The next cave I checked out was much better. I started to sense my hormones bubbling as I kept this up. I was in heaven. The cave I was in now gave me enough room to flutter my tongue like a tiny butterfly. It felt exhilarating, such freedom to frolic around this nice cave. I stayed there for a while before moving to the last cave. This one, between the big and second toe was the biggest cave yet. All of my tongue was able to slide in there. The urges have gotten so strong, I lost control and completely surrendered to my lust. I started sucking her big toe, then worked on the rest for about ten minutes. Next I ran my lips down the ball of her foot and spent some time licking my tongue along her arch. My eyes were closed the entire time, since the beginning. I felt one of my thighs getting a little heavier, so I loosened my pants and released the extra weight. I let my left hand tend to that matter down there while my right was helping me enjoy my moment. I kept tasting and tasting. Rubbing and feeling. I was getting more and more into it. I did not want this to end. My mind was so free, getting this need satisfied, I was oblivious to where I was, who I was with. None of that mattered, I was feasting on ecstasy. Twenty minutes have passed, and I’m still enjoying it. I covered every inch of her left foot. I officially knew everything about it. Still fueled by my lust, I grabbed the other foot and begin tasting it.”
“Five minutes later, I realized, her other foot wasn’t numb! OH NO!”
“She woke up, looked down at what I was doing to her poor feet, and screamed the loudest most condemning scream ever. I will never forget that scream for as long as I live. For that was the sound of my young career coming to an abrupt end, and my life changing for the worse. That scream still haunts me to this day. She pressed charges and my lawyer was able to get me some psychiatric help, but it really didn’t help. Now, I’m a recluse, not socializing with anybody to keep myself out of trouble. It’s hard, but I’m hanging in there.”
…That concluded the first meeting, his introductory and origins. He came by very regularly, almost weekly. One session in particular I can recall…
August 13, 1987; 9:00am
“Good morning, Mr. Valitz. Here, let me help you to the chair. So tell me, how are things with you?”
“Oh Dr. Tsyganok, not too good. One weekend, intense boredom forced me to venture out and walk around for a while. It was about 6:30pm and I took a shortcut through the park. As I came out on the other side, there was a neighborhood of small rental houses, I guess a subdivision. Walking further behind these houses I came across a young woman about maybe her mid-twenties. She was pinned on her back under a big pile of boxes that she was probably throwing out. My guess is she just moved in recently. She must’ve been alone, because she wasn’t crying for help. None of the other neighbors were around. She was completely covered except for her head and bare feet.”
“Then……..I lost it.”
“I sneaked toward her. You see, there was an advantage, the pile of boxes was very tall which meant that she couldn’t see over it. I quietly approached her on the side of the pile where her feet were. My mouth was watering, hands were twitching. I knelt down and got a good whiff of her tender soles. I said nothing, kept quiet, she didn’t even knew I was there. Using a single index finger, I started playing with her toes. At the first touch they started responding. Wiggling up and down, left and right, to and fro. So on and so forth. She must’ve assumed it was a bug on her feet and tried to flick it off. All her toes were wiggling violently. I kept piggying them and kept silent, she wasn’t the wiser. Next I drew circles around the ball of her feet. I could hear her squirming under the weight of the boxes and also hearing little grunts and moans. Oh yes, she’s ticklish on her feet, that’s confirmed.”
“Then I started to get aggressive. More fingers, more speed. She started to complain something about a dog. Maybe the neighbors have pets and frequently trespass in her yard. I believe she thinks a dog is licking her feet. Her complaints were becoming more and more like giggles as I started running my active fingers along her arches and soles. Her laughter rose completely to the surface after five minutes of intense finger tickling. Another ten minutes and I never relented. She finally figured out that there was someone tickling her feet. With my luck, she’ll think it’s a kid.”
“She tried to lift herself up, but the boxes held firm. Plus the laughter I was pulling out of her lungs was breaking her concentration. There was no hope for her, I on the other hand was enjoying it. Her feet were lovely, just swaying this way and that trying to find salvation. The only thing they found was an eager beaver of a finger obstructing its swaying path. Her screams and giggles were getting louder. Her semi-thrashing body was causing a rustling with the pile of boxes. I was so into it, I didn’t realize that the sun was setting. Her salvation was in the form of a passer by jogging down the road. Once he shouted, I took off. The victim never saw my face. So I guess I got away with that episode.”
...Ever since that first session, he’s been dodging arrest warrants in between visits with me. It’s only a matter of time before he ends up either in prison, deported, or institutionalized. If that happens, I’ll lose him and this may be my last opportunity. I strongly feel that now is the time to make a drastic proposal.
October 10, 1987; 12 noon
Mr. Valitz arrived at my office. As we sit down I ask him how he’s been doing. So far he’s been ok, aside from the threatening phone calls and foreign objects thrown through his windows. His reputation is starting to precede him. It’s a good chance he might get seriously hurt. He could be hunted by an angry mob, goodness I hope nobody comes up with that idea. For the sake of his own safety and well being, I have to make this proposal. Since turning me down is not an option, I must show him what he could gain first.
“Mr. Valitz, I have something to offer you. This is going to be a tremendous change, but I strongly feel that this is the best solution for you in dealing with Podiamania. Also keep this in mind, if you choose to do this, this will be the last time you will have to visit me in THIS capacity.”
“Ok, sure. What is it that you have for me?”
“First my friend, I need to give you a small initiation. I need to make sure of something.”
I call my secretary in the intercom and order her to clear my schedule for the rest of the day and not to disturb me under any circumstances. Next, I take my shoes off. I’m ten feet away from him, he’s wearing his blindfold yet he still senses it.
“Dr. Tsyganok what are you doing? I can smell your bare feet.”
My heavens, he even detected that I’m not wearing pantyhose or socks. Impressive!
“Just a second, Mr. Valitz I’ll be right with you.”
I sit down behind my desk prop my big bare feet on the desk, then call for him.
“Mr. Valitz. I need for you to listen very carefully. First, remove your blindfold. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
He removes his blindfold. He has a very handsome face, such lovely green eyes. All to compliment that cute smile of his. He’s already staring at my feet.
“Mr. Valitz, until you hear me say ‘stop’, I want you to come over here and...”
Before I even finished my order he obeyed. Stepping quickly toward my awaiting tootsies. He grabbed one of the other chairs and sat at the other side of my desk. He closed his eyes and went to work.
My, my, MY if he didn’t have the softest lips! He ran them around the ball of my right foot, it was very relaxing. After a few minutes, I was having trouble containing my pleasure. But then I remembered who was enjoying my feet, a chronic Podiamaniac, so I gave in to his gracious skill. His kisses felt wonderful, he was just planting them one by one all over my sole, then he repeated the process on my left foot. Next he took my left sole and rubbed it against his face. He must be naturally hairless, I didn’t feel any stubble at all. Minutes later, he started working his tongue around my toes. He must be doing some of that ‘cave exploring’ he spoke of months ago. His tongue felt good, very good. Then he began sucking my toes with the utmost skill. I was in heaven. My body was losing control. He kept it up for a whole ten minutes and my body let out a shiver strong enough to rattle my desk. That didn’t even stop him. When he started sucking the toes on the other foot he gave me another shiver within fifteen minutes. Oh my god, he was wonderful! I needed to wipe my brow.
Next, he started to slowly drag his fingertips along my left sole. Up from the heel, through the arch then toward the base of my toes. He’s going to tickle my feet next, I can see it coming. He’s just testing my reflexes now, in minutes he’ll be going full force. When he finally got into it, he was running his fingertips along the left sole. His fingers are very quick, sent chills up my spine. I threw my head back and sounds I didn’t know I had flowed out of my mouth. I didn’t feel like a licensed professional anymore, I felt like I was back in boarding school having slumber parties with my classmates. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I was actually beginning to feel young again, how wonderful. He took his other hand and begun tickling my entire toe area, including the base. Gave me quite a ‘whoop’ indeed. When he started on my right foot, my chest started tingling and my body temperature was rising. I was in for another one apparently, when it finally happened, he slowed his pace all of a sudden. I look to see that he was shivering too. Don’t tell me he just had an orgasm. Both his hands are on my feet.
History has just been made here. He and myself had just experienced asexual orgasms. We both achieve an orgasm WITHOUT any genital stimulation of any kind between the both of us. I decided to use this opportunity to stop the activity and order him to go back to his seat and put his blindfold back on.
“Oh, Mr. Valitz. May I call you Yury?”
“Oh, please do. And may I say that you have lovely feet.”
“Thank you, darling. And you may call me Madame Tsyganok.”
“Madame Tsyganok?”
“Yes dear, allow me to explain. I came up with a solution to your problem. That is ‘trial by fire’. I propose that the best way to deal with Podiamania is to satisfy it regularly. Now, this is for your ears only. I have an alternative lifestyle. I own an S&M club on the outer skirts of town. It’s underground and I cater to every fetish that’s out there. That initiation I just gave you, let me tell you, you passed with flying colors. You see, including myself, I have customers who ADORE having their feet worshiped. The people who are in my club are pretty good, but you can put them all to shame. Unlike the people in your current life, these people will not judge or hurt you, instead they will appreciate you and not treat you like garbage. With your skill, you’ll become the most popular Podiamaniac in my club. Just like when you were the most popular Podiatrist years ago.”
“So how’s about it? Give up this life of seclusion and fear and keep hiding your eyes in darkness. Or, join me in my world where the light is, away from rules and restrictions. Surrounded by people who enjoy doing what they feel and making sure that others enjoy themselves. Plus, you can have all the feet you can eat. What do you say?”
I offer him my extended hand and he takes it. We shake on a new and better friendship. After experiencing first hand what he can do with a pair of feet. He will make an excellent foot-slave and an excellent tickler. Under my tutelage, he will move mountains. I wonder if I should tell him that I really have no intentions of curing him, that I was just using it as an excuse for looking for some fresh meat for my club. My office is more of a front than an office. My secretary is probably at the club now tickling some customers.
Ah yes, I always wanted my very own Podiamaniac. I hope I find more like him...before the rest of society does.
