Foot Fetish Stream Story 8: Summer's Heat in Summerset
Two Khajiits in the summerset isles find themselves in need of shelter and relief, though not of the sort that most of the locals would approve of.
Summer's Heat in Summerset for Mishanti and Dexter by Draconicon
Though the magical lights of the Altmer shone throughout the Isles, there was always a point where night would no longer be denied. With the air hot and still, and the lights blinking dimly beneath the twin moons, all those still awake ventured for bed, and travelers made their way to inns great and small.
Do'Randargo, a heavily armored Khajiit, was one such traveler. Walking along with his companion, J'Raksha, the two of them made their way towards one of the cheaper inns nearer the coast. Despite the choice of resting place, none of the famed sea breeze pressed inland, leaving the air as oppressive as the local government.
It was particularly dreadful for Do'Randargo, as not only did he have to deal with the heat held in by his mane and the thick armor he wore, but also with the heat in his blood. The Dragonknight knew fire in a most intimate way, down to his bones, and it burned at him day and night. While it was a welcome companion during the cold, windy nights at sea, or during their days in the northern climes, it was a bane to him in places such as this.
J'Raksha glanced at him as they made their way down the overly elaborate Altmer road, the cobblestones below still seething with the heat of the day. The striped feline walked lightly, as though he could feel the heat through his leather boots.
"This one believes sleep will not come easy tonight."
"And this one believes that you are correct. Do'Randargo will need much...soothing...tonight."
"And this one will be happy to provide it."
Do'Randargo smiled beneath his helm. It was tempting to reach back and remove it, to carry it beneath his arm, but he resisted the urge. While J'Raksha had the ability to hide if the Altmer decided a free-roaming Khajiit was not welcome, he did not. Though a stronger fighter, he was not a warrior suited for hiding and sneaking. It was better to keep his face covered, and allow the elves the chance to pretend that he was simply a mercenary, rather than a free man.
Soon, they arrived at the Shimmering Shore, an inn with opulent pillars that were put to shame by the simple houses that the two Khajiits had just left behind. The opulence was part and parcel with the isles, and neither of them had been impressed by anything after the first few hours on shore.
Leading the way inside, Do'Randargo crossed the common room. A few golden faces turned up, watching him walk with a clank and a clamor between the tables, but by and large, the high elves and their servants remained attentive to their meals. Few bothered to even speak as they ate, and those that did seemed to speak to empty air as much as to living beings.
The armored feline leaned over the innkeeper's desk.
"This one wishes to know if the elf has a room for sale."
Though wearing pauper's clothes compared to the various elven merchants and nobles further inland, the innkeeper had the pride bred into all of his kind. With narrowed eyes, the elf turned his attention to his books, and flipped several pages before nodding.
"I have a room, but just one. Not that I imagine two beasts are opposed to sharing a bed."
He would have said something, but the heat had him too exhausted. Instead, Do'Randargo shook his head. The elf reached below his desk, pulling out a key. In exchange, the Khajiit handed him a few dozen coins.
"That will cover your night, beasts. Unless you have more, you'll need to be out by sunrise."
"This one speaks rudely to his guests."
"Well, I am not a savage such as you. And this is my inn, so you will abide by my rules."
J'Raksha pressed a hand to his armor, and Do'Randargo sighed. He would let it go, this time.
"As sunrise comes, this one and his companion will leave."
"Good. Now away with you."
As the high elf waved them off, they walked towards the back of the room. A pair of carved stone steps led them away from the common room, taking them past carved busts of the eight divines. Each one seemed to be carved in greater sternness than anything that they had seen on the mainland, and Do'Randargo had to fight the urge to throw one back down towards the common room.
They passed through a hall of carved stone, likely of magic or slave make. The walls were lined with ornate designs and arcane art, several of which caught his eye, but few that he understood. He ignored them, instead heading to the door to their room.
"This one needs to be off his feet."
"And this one needs to be under them."
Chuffing in mild laughter, Do'Randargo unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was little more than a bed and a chest, but there were few inns that offered more. The armored Khajiit sighed, taking off his sword belt and laying it upon the chest before sitting down. After so long on his feet, the metal on his body seemed to weigh heavier than it had in years, since before he was able to wear it in the first place.
J'Raksha smiled from under his hood, the spellcasting bladesman kneeling before him. The striped face looked up at him, meeting his eyes as the nightblade grasped his armored boot.
"Relax, armored friend. It is time you rested."
"Yes, rather than you, while this one fights our enemies."
"This one fights, but from shadow, in moonlight."
"While this one fights, anywhere, anytime."
Do'Randargo leaned back, lifting his boots from the floor. It didn't take long for J'Raksha to undo the straps upon them, and as they were slid free, the Khajiit could not suppress his moan of relief. It felt altogether wonderful to let his feet breathe once more, now that they were free of their oppressive protectors. Denied the strange stockings that the elves and humans of the world wore, the boots had been all the more oppressive.
Now, though, they were free. Do'Randargo lifted his feet from the ground, wiggling his toes, enjoying the mobility that his feet were granted again. Even now, it almost felt like they were steaming, that they had come out of a firepit and were finally allowed to cool. In fact, he almost swore that there were wisps of steam coming from between his toes.
He swayed his feet from side to side, and to his amusement, J'Raksha followed every movement. The smaller feline seemed entranced with the Dragonknight's musky soles, and he smiled.
"Remove this one's helmet, and this one will allow his feet to be played with."
The offer always seemed to render J'Raksha a kitten again, and Do'Randargo stifled a laugh as his darker furred friend leaped over the bed. Experienced hands grasped the edges of his helmet, and slowly pulled the metal away.
From the first breath that didn't taste of steel and old rust, he felt more comfortable. Yes, his mane was flattened, and soaked with sweat. Yes, he was damp and looked as though he'd walked through a downpour that put the monsoons on the great coast to shame. Yes, he looked smaller than he actually was.
But he was free of the metal cage again, and that was what was important.
Taking a few deep breaths, he turned back to his friend. His fellow brother of the sands looked back with an eager grin, and he couldn't help but chuff again, leaning back on the bed and lifting his feet up. Despite the remaining metal along his thighs, it wasn't too heavy to hold the position. He was long experienced with this.
"Fine. This one will allow his feet to be cleaned now."
"Peh. This one knows that his friend enjoys this all too much."
"While this one knows that his friend would clean his feet with or without permission, so he might as well grant it."
There was nothing, it seemed, that could make J'Raksha blush. Even the - completely true - suggestion that he would do anything to get at the leonine Khajiit's feet didn't seem to bother him. It was simply part of who the stealthy fighter was. Sighing, Do'Randargo reached down to his knees, giving himself extra leverage to hold his legs up and keep his feet presented to his friend.
It was something that they'd discovered about each other quite some time ago, early in their adventuring days. Not that either of them had been trying anything untoward on the other, but the simple looks back and forth, the way that J'Raksha had stared at the Dragonknight's feet so much; it had been undeniable that there was an attraction to certain parts of each others' bodies.
Just as it had happened then, so too did it happen now. The tiger-striped Khajiit leaned in, and dragged his tongue over the bottoms of Do'Randargo's feet. Each soft lick was accompanied by the signature rasp of the feline's tongue, leaving the pads along the bottoms of his feet soft and smooth, temporarily clean of sweat before the sheer heat of the day - and the fire in his blood - dampened them again.
"This one thinks that his friend has an endless job."
J'Raksha didn't respond, not that Do'Randargo expected him to. Once the other began his licking - what the Dragonknight thought of as his 'feeding' - there was no talking to him. He was utterly focused on scent, taste, and touch, and there was plenty of all three to be had.
For his part, the Dragonknight enjoyed it. Not only did it give him someone to spend time with that didn't mind his constant sweating (as a Dragonknight, he was constantly overheated, always sweating), but it gave him a companion that indulged him in his own needs. He enjoyed the feeling of a tongue beneath his toes, along his soles, and even now he could feel his armor getting a little bit too constraining around the crotch.
He didn't reach to undo it yet, though. The denial and the build-up would make the eventual unveiling all the better, and he knew that his friend would enjoy the additional musk down there. Sweat and arousal mixed together in the oven his armor had become created quite a strong smell. Few could take it, and fewer could enjoy it.
Wiggling his toes, he drew lines of sweat and musk along J'Raksha's face, amusing himself with the little designs in the other's fur. Not that his friend seemed to mind. If anything, Do'Randargo swore that he could feel the sneaky one purring beneath his feet. It would not have been the first time.
Lowering one foot, he pointed the other so that his toes pushed at J'Raksha's lips, and slid it in. The big toe, anyway; the other feline started sucking on it, and the Dragonknight slowly pushed his foot back and forth, as if he was using his brother Khajiit's mouth in a whole different way. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
"This one believes that his friend is lost to dreams of sugar and sand."
Once more, there was no response. Do'Randargo chuckled again, lifting his free foot and wiping the excess sweat along J'Raksha's robe. They would be here for a while, and little sleep would be had. He didn't mind; this was better than sleep, anyway.
The End