Page 40 of Step Alpha

I had to cancel a couple of appointments since Wilde showed up. Maybe now that he’s training with the football team, I can fill my schedule again.

I message a couple of my regulars and say my appointment calendar is open again.

One guy immediately books in for this afternoon.

Well, that works. I have to use my time to make money when I have it. I bill him and send a video link. The moment the money hits my account–the one I set up with an online bank by forging my mom’s signature–I place the laptop on the floor, so only my feet are in the picture and then open the video chat.

The guy’s screen name is Footlover352. Not super original, but they’re not here to entertain me, of course.

“Hey Footlover,” I purr. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, giving him a view of my calves and the strappy stilettos I wore for the second video. “How are you today?”

He makes a sound in his throat. His camera is on, so I can see him. He’s in a windbreaker with a t-shirt on underneath. His face is round with extra weight, and he’s slightly balding. This guy is weird. Sometimes they’re perfectly normal-sounding. Sometimes a little nervous. This one is not a normal guy with a quirk. He’s a social misfit.

Not that I’m one to talk.

“Take the shoes off, Rainbow.”

I slowly reach down, taking my time, stroking my finger along the strap across my ankle before I unbuckle it. I slide my foot out of the sandal and spread my toes like I’m preening for the camera.

“Come closer. Can you please come closer?”

I shift my bare foot closer to the screen, twirling my toes. “What would you want me to do with these feet if we were in person? Walk on your face?”

“I’m going to oil them up,” he says. “With massage oil. For the best massage of your life.”

“Oh yeah? How would you rub my feet?”

“I’d get between each of those little toes. I’d fuck those toes with my fingers and the oil.”

“Uh-huh. What else?”

“I’d put them in my mouth. Suck them hard.”

“Mmm, I’d like that. I would like that so much,” I purr. “I would love to stroke your face all over with my toes. It would feel so good.”

The session goes on, and I cut it off right at the thirty-minute mark, despite his offer to pay me for another thirty minutes.

It’s not hard work, but it still exhausts me.

“How much for the shoes?” he pleads as I’m about to turn off the video chat.

“I’ll auction them on my site.”

“No! I want them. I’ll buy them. I need the shoes.”

I’m getting creeped out by the desperation in his voice. “They’ll be up for auction. See you next time!” I hit the end button and breathe out a sigh.

Time to make dinner. I hide the shoes in the closet and yank on a pair of shorts, then start the upload on the first video to my page. It takes forever because my computer is old, so I leave it to run while I head into the kitchen.

With Wilde in the house, I stick to basic meat. I start the grill up. There’s a twelve-pack of frozen burger meat I took out of the freezer this morning to thaw. I pull them out of the refrigerator now and pry them apart to lay on a plate. I sprinkle them with seasoned salt and Worcestershire sauce and pull out the condiments and buns then make a huge salad–the kind with shredded cheddar on top to weigh it down.

Clogged arteries will never be an issue in this house.

As soon as I hear the car pull up, I take the plate of burgers outside and put them on the grill, like a good little girl.

Dinner waiting when the parents get home. I’m earning my keep.

My mom doesn’t come out to kiss me, which bothers me a little, but I finish up and bring the pile of steaming meat inside.

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