One of the oldest cliches in the book, right? Someone makes an indirect comment about themselves by obliquely attributing it to another person? I thought it was such an obvious tactic that I couldn't believe it when it happened to me. But I'm glad it did.
I was finishing up my undergraduate work by taking one final course during the summer,.... Inductive Logic. Next to me sat a quiet, slender brunette named Roxanne,... we exchanged a few jokes and sarcastic appraisals of the class as the course wore on. She was pretty funny, and eventually I asked her to have lunch with me after class. She said, "Okay."
Lunch went well enough that I asked Roxanne back to my apartment for another beer,... it was only two blocks away, so off we went. Roxanne was wearing flip-flops,... her feet looked pretty inviting,... so naturally I was already wondering about,........... well, you know. We settled in with our beers in a couple of chairs with a little table in between them,.... close proximity. The table contained one of my favorite things,... a reproduction of the Declaration of Independence laminated to a wooden plaque, and the plaque even came adorned with a fake quill pen. Nice, eh?
The fake quill pen actually did contain a ballpoint, so I picked it up under the pretext of writing something down,... maybe her phone number,... I can't remember. Roxanne was going on at length about something, one leg crossed over the other and flip-flop dangling,... and at some point I leaned forward slightly and brushed the quill between her toes. She gave a quick start and flashed me a naughty smile. And then she nailed me.
"Oooh, a foot fetishist," she said. I was dumbfounded. (Inductive Logic was not wasted on this woman.)
Thinking fast, I adroitly said, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," and she laughed,.. and then informed me that she "thought" she had noticed me checking out her feet in class. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,.... I plead "no contest."
I told Roxanne that,.. yeah,.. she'd guessed right,... and I did sort of have this thing for ladies' feet,... and I hoped it wasn't too weird for her. And that's when things departed from the usual course of events. (and the title of this post was coined)
Roxanne basically told me that No,.. a foot fetish wasn't weird at all. "In fact," she went on, "I have this friend who's into something a lot weirder."
"Oh?" My throat was suddenly dry,.... "This friend, huh?" Speaking in tones more associated with ghost stories told around campfires, Roxanne continued.
"Yes, she told me about it." Roxanne's eyes narrowed, and her tone became even more conspiritorial. "She likes to be tied up and,........."subjected" to things." Roxanne ended this revelation with another naughty smile,... and she may have noticed that I'd slipped into a state of clinical shock.
"Things?" I croaked,.... "What things?" I would have been in no way surprised if the next thing I heard was the voice of Rod Serling from The Twilight Zone,...... "Submitted for your approval,......" But Roxanne just shrugged.
"Oh,... I don't know," she said innocently. "...just things." That smile again. "I wonder what that would be like?" I do not think I can adequately describe my state of mind at that precise moment,.. though the phrase, "Universe spinning wildly out of control," captures at least part of it.
I also don't exactly know what the next few exchanges were. I know I didn't call the "I have this friend," explanation into question; that would have been pointless. (I can be fairly sure that I got another beer, and damned quickly, too) But at any rate, I let Roxanne know that I would be honored to serve as her escort at the pageant of "tied up and subjected to things." And that is what we did.
Roxanne seemingly took no notice of the fact that I already had all the ideal lengths of 5/8" braided nylon line in my closet. We remained in the living room, but she shifted to a straight-back dining chair,... her breathing became heavy and excited as I tied her to the chair (I really think this may have been a "first" for her) The flip-flops were discarded as I bound her ankles,... and then I just sat with her legs across my lap. She was looking me straight in the eye as I began to tickle her feet,.... and for a good couple of minutes she managed to suppress her laughter to a few fitful bursts,... and then the floodgates opened. Maybe I just hit the right spot. Roxanne threw her head back and howled. My fingers made occasional reconaissance trips northward. Howling was punctuated by panting. After maybe twenty minutes of Roxanne being "subjected" to tickling, the bedroom seemed a natural destination. She even got to be on top, since I left her hands tied behind her, but I could still reach her feet. When she toppled over onto my chest, it was difficult to describe the sounds she was making. After she had calmed down for a minute or two, she whispered, "Well, that wasn't what I had in mind, but it'll do."
"Ummm,.... what did you have in mind?" I tentatively asked.
"I'll tell you at lunch tomorrow," was her reply. And she did.
I was finishing up my undergraduate work by taking one final course during the summer,.... Inductive Logic. Next to me sat a quiet, slender brunette named Roxanne,... we exchanged a few jokes and sarcastic appraisals of the class as the course wore on. She was pretty funny, and eventually I asked her to have lunch with me after class. She said, "Okay."
Lunch went well enough that I asked Roxanne back to my apartment for another beer,... it was only two blocks away, so off we went. Roxanne was wearing flip-flops,... her feet looked pretty inviting,... so naturally I was already wondering about,........... well, you know. We settled in with our beers in a couple of chairs with a little table in between them,.... close proximity. The table contained one of my favorite things,... a reproduction of the Declaration of Independence laminated to a wooden plaque, and the plaque even came adorned with a fake quill pen. Nice, eh?
The fake quill pen actually did contain a ballpoint, so I picked it up under the pretext of writing something down,... maybe her phone number,... I can't remember. Roxanne was going on at length about something, one leg crossed over the other and flip-flop dangling,... and at some point I leaned forward slightly and brushed the quill between her toes. She gave a quick start and flashed me a naughty smile. And then she nailed me.
"Oooh, a foot fetishist," she said. I was dumbfounded. (Inductive Logic was not wasted on this woman.)
Thinking fast, I adroitly said, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," and she laughed,.. and then informed me that she "thought" she had noticed me checking out her feet in class. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,.... I plead "no contest."
I told Roxanne that,.. yeah,.. she'd guessed right,... and I did sort of have this thing for ladies' feet,... and I hoped it wasn't too weird for her. And that's when things departed from the usual course of events. (and the title of this post was coined)
Roxanne basically told me that No,.. a foot fetish wasn't weird at all. "In fact," she went on, "I have this friend who's into something a lot weirder."
"Oh?" My throat was suddenly dry,.... "This friend, huh?" Speaking in tones more associated with ghost stories told around campfires, Roxanne continued.
"Yes, she told me about it." Roxanne's eyes narrowed, and her tone became even more conspiritorial. "She likes to be tied up and,........."subjected" to things." Roxanne ended this revelation with another naughty smile,... and she may have noticed that I'd slipped into a state of clinical shock.
"Things?" I croaked,.... "What things?" I would have been in no way surprised if the next thing I heard was the voice of Rod Serling from The Twilight Zone,...... "Submitted for your approval,......" But Roxanne just shrugged.
"Oh,... I don't know," she said innocently. "...just things." That smile again. "I wonder what that would be like?" I do not think I can adequately describe my state of mind at that precise moment,.. though the phrase, "Universe spinning wildly out of control," captures at least part of it.
I also don't exactly know what the next few exchanges were. I know I didn't call the "I have this friend," explanation into question; that would have been pointless. (I can be fairly sure that I got another beer, and damned quickly, too) But at any rate, I let Roxanne know that I would be honored to serve as her escort at the pageant of "tied up and subjected to things." And that is what we did.
Roxanne seemingly took no notice of the fact that I already had all the ideal lengths of 5/8" braided nylon line in my closet. We remained in the living room, but she shifted to a straight-back dining chair,... her breathing became heavy and excited as I tied her to the chair (I really think this may have been a "first" for her) The flip-flops were discarded as I bound her ankles,... and then I just sat with her legs across my lap. She was looking me straight in the eye as I began to tickle her feet,.... and for a good couple of minutes she managed to suppress her laughter to a few fitful bursts,... and then the floodgates opened. Maybe I just hit the right spot. Roxanne threw her head back and howled. My fingers made occasional reconaissance trips northward. Howling was punctuated by panting. After maybe twenty minutes of Roxanne being "subjected" to tickling, the bedroom seemed a natural destination. She even got to be on top, since I left her hands tied behind her, but I could still reach her feet. When she toppled over onto my chest, it was difficult to describe the sounds she was making. After she had calmed down for a minute or two, she whispered, "Well, that wasn't what I had in mind, but it'll do."
"Ummm,.... what did you have in mind?" I tentatively asked.
"I'll tell you at lunch tomorrow," was her reply. And she did.
