“Drink,” she demanded, placing the bottle to my lips.I gulped, and then drank. I was apparently not going anywhere for a while, oh dear.“So, wha... are the other two?” I asked getting concerned.“Uh uh,” she chastised, “feet first.”I was already pretty well locked down, so I shrugged and offered my feet without a fight. After locking me in place she showed me the second bottle. It was expensive. Not to mention the sort of thing only a master craftsman could make… like Enko. Fuck. The contents were. Note: this fiction no one was hurt, fucked, sucked or molested during the writing of this story.Her toes, how sweet looking they are, with the red polished nails offsetting their negligible stoutness. As she teeters back and forth, raising one foot then the other exposing the heels of her feet, still tender without any sign of the grainy calluses a girl older than her may have. Flowing smoothly into ankles her calves are quite balanced. The muscles are there but undetectable in there uniform. More

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