Have you ever met a true “brat”? Many years ago I was giving a friend’s daughter guitar lessons. When I met the mom, I knew right off that the daughter had an attitude. She talked back to her mother and generally did what she wanted. She wanted to learn guitar, so her mother asked me to teach her.
One evening, her mother dropped her off for lessons. She kicked off her sneakers, laid her guitar on the couch and plopped her ass down next to it. She folded her legs, tucking her little feet underneath her. I grabbed my guitar and sat on the floor in front of the couch. We went over a few things as far as basics go and before we knew it, the hour was up. She was tired of practice anyway, and she’d been bitching and complaining about the last few chords I was showing her. I turned to one side, set my guitar down and started talking about next weeks lesson and what we needed to cover.
I turned back to her and, BAM! Suddenly there was a foot flat on my face. I was still sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch. She had put her guitar away, unfolded her legs, stuck one foot straight out and was waiting for me to turn around again. Her warm heel pressed against my chin. “You’re talking WAY to much and I didn’t hear half of what you said,” she told me, her foot still pressed against my face. I didn’t move. She wiggled her toes on my forehead, then dropped her foot down.
I was a little shocked. She knew NOTHING of my fetish. How the hell could she have known that I wouldn’t freak out?? The truth was, she didn’t give a shit. She did what she did, and damn everyone else. I suddenly wanted to be her pet. I gulped and started again, telling her what she needed to practice on and learn. She stretched, yawned and nodded at me. “I need to pee,” she said bluntly. As she stood up, I straightened my legs and laid flat on the floor on my back. My heart was pounding. I wasn’t sure what she’d do. If she asked, I could just say I needed to pop my back and was trying to stretch.
She didn’t care what I was doing. Her right foot planted itself onto my stomach and she stepped up onto me and off the other side like I was nothing but a bump in her way, a nuisance just to be stepped on. She sauntered across the house and closed the bathroom door behind her, not even looking back at me. I took a deep breath. Did that really just happen?? I expect this girl to be snippy, witty and rude most times. I should have expected “dominant” to be in that list.
I hadn’t moved when she opened the bathroom door and came back across the living room. I was still laying on my back when she walked up to me and put her left foot on my stomach. She looked down at me and said, “You gonna make me do this again?”. She gave me a smile, but I knew she would. I was hoping she would. “How about right here?” I asked, patting my hands on my breasts. I wanted her to stand on my chest and look down at me like a goddess. She didn’t hesitate. She stepped right up and looked down at me. “You’re OK? It doesn’t hurt?” she asked. NOW she asks. “No,” I told her. I’ve had quite a few people step and stand on me. You’re a lightweight.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said. She stepped off of me and slid her shoes on. We both heard the car horn outside. She turned to me. “Next time, loser boy” she said. She grabbed her guitar case, smiled at me and before I knew it, she was out the front door and gone. I laid on the floor for a few moments afterwards, just taking in everything that had happened