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I’m finally back in my hotel room after a long, exhausting day of field trip chaos, grading papers, dealing with drama, and just trying to unwind. But then you show up. My student. At first I’m completely thrown off, because what the hell are you doing here? But then you start talking… and it all clicks. You’re obsessed with my feet. And worse… you’re blackmailing me. Seriously? You say if I don’t give you what you want, you’ll report me for letting you in. You’re absolutely disgusting. But I can’t afford a scandal, not right now. So with a deep sigh, I stretch out on the bed, and reluctantly give in. You get exactly what you came for: a slow, bratty footjob with my soft, nylon-covered soles. I don’t hide my attitude, I roll my eyes, scoff, and make it clear just how pathetic I think you are while you stroke to the rhythm of my feet. And when it’s over? I don’t even look at you. I just tell you one thing: this never happened. Don’t speak a word of it, or you’ll regret ever stepping into my room.