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The Dragon's Sole Club

By Draconicon

Rachel knew that she was getting into something naughtier than usual when she looked up at the gold-framed neon sign over the club door. It was a simple ring around two large, black-framed feet, each one glowing yellow-white with enough brilliance to keep the club door lit better than the street-lights on either corner of the building. The line had shortened, then cut down to nothing by the time that she had arrived, but the jackal still couldn't quite bring herself to believe that she was here to begin with.

Is this what my date nights are coming to? she wondered. Spending them out at nightclubs and fetish joints?

Well, 'date night' was pushing it just a bit. She still didn't actually have a date for the night, and was hoping to pick one up. After failing at two other bars to get much attention, she remembered something that she used to hear from an ex of hers, and - after a couple shots of vodka - got up the gumption to head down here.

That gumption had since faded, and the idea of walking into a foot fetish club - particularly one as blatantly named as 'The Dragon's Sole' - made her think twice. The only thing keeping her rooted to the spot was the reminder that she probably didn't have time to hit up anywhere else for some fun tonight, and as fucking weird as this was...

Rachel sighed. Might as well get it over with.

She walked over to the security guard at the door, a dolphin that had his arms crossed over a black vest with the usual black pants. He was barefoot, just like the other staff members she'd seen going in and out of the building, only wearing a pair of black-banded toe-rings on his big toes and nothing else. He cocked his head to the side as she walked up.

"Looking to get in, ma'am?"

"Um...yeah." She nodded. "First time."

"ID?"

"Here."

Passing over her card, she looked down at the ground again, taking a few deep breaths. She'd dated a stag at one point, and he'd always said that she'd had cute toes, cute feet. He'd even joked that she could have made money as a foot model. Rachel had never seen the appeal of having her feet touched, let alone stared at or...more...but she was desperate for a guy. If it meant playing into their fetish for the night just for a bit of attention, she thought she could stomach it.

The dolphin passed her ID back, nodding.

"Alright, that's good. You said this was your first time?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod, pocketing her ID. "Anything I should know?"

"Well, it's a fetish club. Everyone's barefoot, and I mean everyone. If that bothers you, might want to leave now."

"Isn't that...you know, a hygiene problem?"

"Heh, not here. Anyway, you'll have to fill out a quick questionnaire when you get inside. Just a couple small things to make sure that you're properly logged into the system, nothing serious. Then...just have fun. And, uh, try to relax. You're all kinds of tense, ma'am."

"..."

"Have fun."

Shaking her head, she stepped past the dolphin and into the entry hall. It extended for a good twenty feet ahead of her, but she had barely taken a step inside before the door closed behind her and an automated voice grabbed her attention.

" Please take off your shoes."

"...Pardon?"

A sliding door in the wall opened, and a cylinder not dissimilar from the types one might have seen in the banks in the old days popped out. She blinked again as it landed in front of her, the front popping open and exposing a surprisingly large interior.

" Please place all footwear in the cylinder. It will be marked with your name and returned to you at the end of the night."

"I guess they're not kidding about staying barefoot..."

Shaking her head, she reached down and undid her laces, slowly pulling one shoe off, then the other. Even after she tucked them into the cylinder, though, the machine didn't take it away. It must be serious about all footwear, she supposed. Taking off her socks, as well, she tucked them into her shoes and then put it all inside. The cylinder darted away, sliding down a tube in the wall, and leaving her barefoot on some - thankfully - very warm carpet.

Being barefoot in public had never been something she was entirely comfortable with. The beach was bad enough, considering that her flip flops constantly left her a little exposed, but here in a club, it felt worse, somehow. Almost like she was flashing something. Despite the fact that she still had her jeans and a pretty conservative t-shirt on, the jackal felt surprisingly exposed, her feet and the dark pad along the bottom feeling very, very, very much the center of attention despite there being no-one else around to see her like this. It was...well, embarrassing for her.

Yet, no sooner had she gotten herself acclimated to being barefoot than the same panel shifted again, this time showing a touch-screen on the other side. Desperate for the distraction, she walked over to answer what she imagined were the basic questions that the dolphin had mentioned.

It was definitely basic. She cocked her head to the side at the questions on the screen. The first was simple enough.

Would you consider yourself more interested in your feet and having them touched, or in touching and playing with others?

Much as she was self-conscious about her feet and how they would feel when touched by others, she had to admit that she preferred that to the idea of being underfoot. She selected the first option. The screen flickered, changing to another question.

Would you consider yourself more interested in 'encouraging' others to play with your feet, or more likely to enjoy having the choice taken out of your hands?

Again, it wasn't quite that cut-and-dry for her. She wasn't sure that she'd want attention down there at all, but she knew that if she was being honest, she'd do better having the choice taken out of her hand. If someone thought that she could be a 'foot domme', she would probably screw it up, embarrass herself, and make someone else's night worse. Best not to go there. She answered the second one, and once more, the screen flickered and changed.

Thank you for taking this quiz. Please hold still.

Rachel barely had time to read the screen before the floor opened beneath her feet. She yelped, her toes sinking into some sort of gel, and her heels doing the same. Her feet were pulled flat against some sort of sucking material, which rose up between her toes and along the sides of her feet. It was like mud, but cleaner, less grainy, and it squelched between her toes and along the bottoms of her feet, soaking into her pad and making her blush at the oddly naughty feeling.

Even as the blue-glowing ooze held her attention, two large, segmented chunks of metal rose from beneath the ground. They were like old prison shackles, except bigger and bulkier. They looked like they were made of iron, though there were little bits of leather on the inside for padding.

And they were thick. Thick enough that when they pressed against her ankles, she realized that she'd be carrying around some serious weight with those hanging from her. The jackal's cheeks burned as the shackles swung around, one by one -

Click.

Click.

And just like that, her feet were trapped, shackled. Even if she wanted to, the metal ran far enough down her leg that it would keep her from putting her shoes and socks back on, interfering with any kind of footwear that wasn't a sandal, as a matter of fact. She reached down, fumbling for the catch on the shackles, but there was none to find. She could only feel smooth metal where they had joined together.

" Welcome to the Dragon's Sole. You have been marked as a Foot Sub, requesting attention to your feet. You are restricted to barefoot status. You have been treated to skin and pad sensitizers. You are available for Foot Doms Level 3 and over to take advantage of as they will. Enjoy your stay."

"Wait, wait, what? What's going on? What is going to -"

The panels let her loose, and the moment she stepped back, she felt the difference. The carpet had already seemed a bit warm, but as soon as her bare sole touched it, she felt like she was standing on a warm, heated sidewalk. Walking on it felt like brushes and feathers against the bottoms of her feet, and she yelped and squealed, hopping from one foot to the other in a futile attempt to avoid the tickling, teasing sensations that danced up her legs.

"What - ah - let me - ha hahaha! Let me go!"

" The exit to the club is on the opposite side of the building. Please enjoy your stay."

Well, that was lovely. She bit off the giggles and whimpers and the occasional moan that came from just walking along the carpeted hallway, making her way down to the other side of the entry hall. A metal door blocked the path forward, but as soon as she reached it, a panel opened at the bottom, near the floor. It was just large enough for -

You're kidding me...

This place was taking foot fetish stuff to a new extreme. She shook her head, slowly lifting her bare foot before pressing down on the blue-tinted glass. No sooner had she made contact than it started humming under her sole, buzzing against her and making her blush and bite back a giggle-moan. It hummed as a line of white ran from her heel to her toes and back again.

" Footprint stored. ID matched. Welcome, Foot Sub."

The door opened, and Rachel was given one hell of a sight to behold.

Rather than a dance floor, there were various chunks of room dedicated to different kinds of flooring. There were hot tiles, icy stretches of chilled panels, electrified flooring, powdered and sanded areas of floor, and even spaces where legos had been strewn around the ground, spread out as a torture device. And that was just the center of the room, the socializing area. As she panned her head to the side, she spotted another heated area, a space where the floor looked like a hot grill, and those that stood on it were sweating up a storm, their feet dripping through the spaces between the metal, their soles getting 'tortured' and marked by the heat.

She turned further, her attention drawn by giggles at another corner of the room, and found that there was a bondage corner. Some females, some males were tied up, some by their wrists, some upside-down by their ankles. Feathers, brushes, even tongues were put to work to tickle the helpless soles on display.

Another turn, and she found herself face to face with a barefoot kangaroo walking right up to her. He carried a flogger in one hand, and was dressed in leather from head to...ankle, yep, to ankle, with his long feet and bare toes exposed, the latter of which was curling. He tipped her head up with the flogger.

"Heh...new little foot sub, eh? Pity ya ain't looking to tend to someone else's...but I think I could give yours a good tending. Whaddaya say?"

Rachel...was speechless. What did she say in the midst of all this weirdness? Particularly to someone that didn't look anything like the sub-par person that she expected to frequent this kind of establishment?

The End

Summary: Rachel, a jackal that kind of looks down on kink, ends up getting desperate enough to hit up a fetish club in hopes of getting a date, or at least a one-night stand.

Tags: F/solo, M/F, Foot Fetish, Jackal, Foot Bondage, Foot Club, Fetish Club, Barefoot, Forced Barefoot, Embarrassment, Heat Play, Tickling, Foot Focus, Self-Indulgence,