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Harper the Foot Model

"Oh yeah honey," The busty mouse behind the reception desk leaned forward, pointing out where Harper needed to sign, "Just fill in the main contact info. Name, age, all that jazz. Someone will call your name when we're ready." The seventeen year old raccoon just nodded, trying really hard to instinctively look down the well proportioned mouse's blouse. He quietly took the clip board and a pen, and stepped away.

The agency said they were looking for foot models, and while Harper was a bit round to be a model, he really wanted to break into the business. And he was pretty, as far as he was concerned. Perfect mask around the eyes with very defined lines between the grays and blacks of his coat. He looked around the room and could see that there were lots of guys there for the shoot, and he really hoped he beat them out for it. In the mean time, he kept to himself, and filled out his paperwork.

He noticed on the second page of the document was some sort of waiver. He skimmed it, but signed it anyway. He'd have to ask once they called his name.

"Harper?" A male voice called out. Harper looked up to see a fit alligator in a tank top, jeans and a baseball cap. He gave off a sort of, not older brother, but, handsome lifeguard vibe. The coon stood up, and gave him a little wave as he walked over. "Harper?" The alligator asked.

"Yeah!"

"Awesome! Come and back and we'll get started." He followed the alligator into an eggshell white hallway with a jazzy patterned carpet that reminded Harper of the 90's. "Our studio is just back here. We have a lot of exciting stuff we hope you can help us with man."

"Oh... Definitely." Harper said, holding the clipboard awkwardly, unsure if he was supposed to hand it to this nice reptile or give it to someone else. "Uh, do you know anything about the waiver I had to sign?"

"Sorry dude, I don't." The alligator shrugged, "I'm just your costar in this. I'm Jake by the way."

Costar? That confused Harper, in his head, he was the only one modeling the shoes.

Jake slammed open a door into a darken studio. The only illumination was coming from the spot lights that lit up a table in front of a blue background. On the table was a single pair of shoes. An older goat man stood behind a camera, but said nothing.

The alligator took the clip board from Harper and tossed it in a chair sitting in the shadows as he walked Harper to the table. Getting closer, Harper could see that not only were the shoes not his size, but they were quite dirty. They were a pair of red tennis shoes, with mud caked to the bottom of them. Jake kicked his shoes off and left them sitting under the table, grabbing one of the dirty shoes and dropping it to the floor so he could slide his foot into it.

"So, we're just gonna hope right into it." The alligator started, grabbing the other shoe. "I'm gonna start on this end of the table Harper, and you over there." He motioned to the opposite end. "Just lean over it. Get comfortable."

"Like this?" Harper asked, putting his hands on the table and hovering his body over it.

"No, against the table. Put your elbows on the table."

Harper did his best to comply. He leaned down, elbows on the table, one arm propping up his chin, the other just laying flat, his round ass high in the air. "Like that?"

A muddy shoe covered foot slammed into the table in front of him, startling him. "Perfect dude. Just look at the shoe like you're admiring it."

"Uh, okay." Harper said, and tried his best to look like he was admiring the shoe. The click of the camera told him exactly what he wanted to know, this wasn't just foot modeling. This was his big break! His face was going to be on something!

"Okay, now go ahead and grab hold of the shoe."

Harper put a hand on either end of the shoe. "Okay." The camera clicked.

"Get your face real close to it."

The raccoon put his face closer to the shoe and stale dirty shoe smell hit him square in the face. But he persevered, and got as close as he could. The camera clicked.

"Alright, now, touch your tongue to it. Give it a little lick."

Harper's brow furled in confusion, but he slowly put out his tongue and gently laid it on the cleaner part of the shoe, dragging in across a bit, and then withdrawing it, all while the camera clicked away.

"Aw, come on man, you gotta really lick them man. Like you love them so much you gotta clean em with your tongue!"

"What?" Harper looked up at the alligator. "Excuse me, no. What does that have to do with the job?"

The alligator, not missing a beat, pulled money from his pocket. "Look, kid, I like your face. How about, we pay you for the shoot now. It's gonna get weirder from here, let me tell you."

"How much is the shoot worth?" It didn't even register for Harper that this had gone from an audition to a shoot.

"Two hundred to shoot it right now."

"Deal!" Harper took the money from Jake and tucked it in a pocket.

"Okay, but get that shirt off."

Without hesitation, Harper took off his shirt and eagerly grabbed the shoe again, licking down the side and ignoring the mud in his mouth. He continued to lick at it fiercely, he wanted to earn that money, the camera clicking away as he licked. The coon even lifted the shoe up so he could lick the bottom of it, running his tongue between the grooves of the shoe to collect the mud there.

"Take the shoe off."

He immediately pulled the shoe off of the alligator's foot, and the aroma of stale foot stink mixed with fresh foot stink and it enveloped Harper's senses, but, for some reason, it didn't smell nearly as bad. In fact, Harper found himself enjoying it some. Without being prompted, he smelled the inside of the shoe deeply, and even shoved his muzzle into it to get a whiff, licking at the inside of the shoe to collect the salt and sweat left over by the alligator's foot.

"Give attention to the foot too kiddo."

At the alligator's words, he pushed the shoe aside and had his muzzle buried in between socked toes. He couldn't breath in the scent fast enough, his mouth was drooling as his tongue tried to absorb the bitter taste of dirty foot from the shoe.

"Take those pants off." He complied, his mouth never leaving the foot. He slid his pants off, underwear along with it. His mind had been wrapped in some sort of fog, and Harper wasn't sure exactly what he was doing anymore, he just knew he needed that foot. The camera clicked away, and he found himself crawling onto all fours on the table, his fingers pulled the sock down slowly. For a brief moment, his lips left the sock and he let out a vulgar moan, his small four inch prick hardening and his large coon testes swinging pendulously between his legs.

As soon as the sock was off, the alligators scaly toes went right into the coon's mouth. He sucked them, and licked the dirt and lint from between them, just becoming overwhelmed with the taste and smell. He barely noticed that the foot was slowly being pulled away from him. He didn't react until it was pulled from the table.

"No, please." His voice cracked, tears forming in his eyes. He needed that foot back. Instead, the alligator just pushed the shoe on the table towards him. Harper grabbed in, and immediately knew what he wanted from the shoe. Sliding his cock into it, he began humping it. Slowly at first, but he quickly picked up speed until he was slamming away at it, with the shoe against the table, and him moaning lewdly. The camera clicking away. The pressure of orgasm quickly built up inside him, and finally, with a large crying moan that echoed through the room, he came into the shoe, and collapsed on the table.

The alligator quietly slipped something around Harper's neck. "Keep the shoe kid, you clearly are gonna enjoy it more than me." Harper held the shoe against his junk, and whimpered quietly, wishing beyond reason that he could continue humping it. "You got the job kid," He said, pushing a piece of paper into Harper's hand. "Just, clean yourself up and get out of here."

Jake and the cameraman walked off, leaving the heavy breathing coon on the table. Slowly, he wondered what just happened. Why was he on this table naked? Why did he do all of that. He got off the table, and put his pants back on, looking around the studio. He was alone now. Harper looked at the paper pushed into his hand. It was an address and a time, and said, "If you want it off, you'll have to come." Harper felt the thing around his neck, and fished his cellphone out of his pocket, looking at himself in the camera. It was a collar that was locked onto him, with a tag that read "Foot Slut".

Harper got his shirt on, and quickly fled the studio, trying to keep the collar hidden. But he didn't leave before grabbing the shoe and taking it with him.