Foot Lick Story Novels & Stories

Lucas announced for the fifteenth time that morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet beside the couch with the kind of manic energy only a five-year-old could maintain, I was feeling envious of his two working ankles at the moment. "Papa said that licking makes things heal faster! Wolves do it all the time!" "Absolutely not," I said firmly, pulling my injured foot away from his reaching hands, drawing the line at that. "Lucas, we've talked about this. Humans don't lick injuries. That's unsanitary." "But Papa said—" "Papa was telling you stories about wolves," I interrupted, shooting a glare toward Damon, who was working on his laptop in the armchair across from me, his expression far too i

On my side, I find it strangely funny—maybe because she does, as well. I am about to ask her something when I hear a fluffy sound, and turning to my behind, I scream at the closeness of the animal next to my feet. Its agility is one that my unconscious senses find alluring and impressive, but because of my own fast and involuntary act, my legs kick it in the stomach, sending it off onto the harsh and icy stony grounds. "Oh-mi-gosh..." I say it with a squeal. Luna Daciana smiles and heads over to where the animal had been kicked. It is an Arctic hare, and she carried it in her arms.

“Lily,” I said. “Tell me about Auntie Elara’s office.” The spoon clinked back into the bowl. “Can I have more cereal?” “You haven’t answered me, baby.” “There’s a frog at school,” Lily said. “His name is Gerald. He only has three legs but the teacher said he’s still a good frog.” And just like that she was gone, off down a hallway in her own head, the office forgotten, the couch forgotten, Gerald the three-legged frog now the most important thing in the world.

I dodged away awkwardly while the three of us danced like we were in some weird tango. Then I went on alone to gather the cards I needed. From there it got easier. I moved through the floors almost without resistance and collected every card in minutes. But there was no game notification sound. I knew I was still missing the crucial one. The 30th-floor card. The 30th-floor story. I’m not stupid. After living with them for days, I already knew their histories. They truly were four strangers before all this. Lily had been a little girl who, after school on a rainy day, kindly held an umbrella for an adult man and was then hurt and murdered.

His claws swiped toward my throat, gleaming under the moonlight. I ducked. The wind rushed over my head as his attack missed. Before he could react, I spun on my heel and kicked. Hard. My foot connected with his snout. CRACK. A sharp yelp burst from his throat as he stumbled back, blood dripping from his nose. He rolled over the ground like a baby. Mommy used to tickle me if I did it to eat candy. Hehe~ The others hesitated. They shared glances as if they were trying to understand how a child could do it. Well, I am a baby. A Baby can do anything.

Rocco Leanne wiggled her foot to try to get the crab off. "Ah! It's not letting go!" Her eyes were red rimmed and she bit her lips to hold in the pain. "Hey hey, calm down. Don't move okay? I'll get it off." I looked into her eyes and assured her till she nodded before I bent to have a look at her toe where the crab still held on. If moved rashly it could cause an irreparable damage so I slowly pulled it off her and flung it back into the water.

When I was about to step foot into the pack house, Zack asked, "Where have you been? Where is your other shoe?” His gaze shifted to my feet, and he looked at me in disgust. I looked down at my own feet. I was so caught up in thinking about the king that I forgot I was only wearing one heel. I was limping to the pack house with one heel! I took off the heel and tossed it to the side. The other pair had been lost, so it was no longer useful. I stepped forward to the door instead of answering his question.

The foot was salvaged, luckily, but it meant that she had to walk with the aid of a stick to balance the twisted foot. Others claim that the story was just an elaborate lie made to cover up what really happened—that she had fallen from a tree where she had been spying on a man with whom she had been infatuated with. The fall likely messed up her ankle, and gave her the unusual gait she now possessed. Both had sufficient substance that could be believed, but they still did not fit quite right. I clean up the rest of the plates with the warm water flowing from the stream, and took them back to the kitchens, where some of the other breeder girls are stationed, putting together a meal.

(I am grateful for what I have. Holding my hands up to prevent any show of partiality, I stood up. With mirroring distress, they watched me with eyes clearly reading, "PICK ME UP, YOU MORTAL." Feeling sorry for myself, I scooped the three up hardly managing to keep them in my arms. It was as I struggled to hold them that one decided that my face looked tasty enough to lick.It was TICKLISH I tell you people, very TICKLISH.

"I don't know." "That bastard said because his left foot was different from a normal person’s foot. He was born with 6 toes. And the socks were especially made for him by his dead wife. He couldn't bear to discard them... I used to think he was an honest person. But now I find that he has really been good at pretending. Maybe her wife's death is related to him." When Jean heard this, she suddenly felt a gush of biting wind rise from the soles of her feet.