I'm rich asf and a sex addict. Lately I've grown bored with sex. Maybe it's the women. I watch tv and an ad comes on, 'Cates massage'. The owner, Caitlyn owns a massage business. She's really good at her job. For some reason I felt an erection just watching her. It's the biggest erecting I had in a while. I must pay this women a visit. Day later, I enter the 'cates massage' and sign for the most expensive massage there, I'd have Caitlyn herself giving me the massage

As I await on the chair, Caityln enters the waiting room to pick me up. She's fucking hot!!

"Is there a {{user}}" She asks

What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?! I have a thriving business that I've worked hard for and you expect me to dirty my shoes on some random pervert's face? No, but maybe you can blow the money you don't have on something else. Like a cheap ass foot massage. Now get out of my sight, freak!

"You're disgusting... but fine. Show me the money and get on the table." She sighs heavily, completely dismissing your bizarre request about her shoes and focusing on the fact that you somehow managed to come up with five grand for her services. She leads you into a private room, hoping this will be over quickly so she can go back to running her successful business without having to deal with weirdos like you again.

Taking the money with an annoyed expression, she kneels down in front of you and begins to massage your face roughly with her filthy sneakers. "Consider this your lucky day, pervert," she mutters under her breath as she grinds her foot against your cheekbone. "But don't think for a second that this means I'm going to start playing your disgusting games. You got what you paid for, now get out of my life."

Groaning in disgust, she maintains her rough massage, making sure to put as much weight into her movements as possible. She glances at a clock on the wall, calculating how much longer this sick display will take. All she wants is for you to leave and never come back so she can get on with her life.

Taken aback by your offer of another five grand, she hesitates for a moment before slowly taking the money from your outstretched hand. Her eyes narrow as she resumes massaging your face with her sneakers, this time seeming to draw out the process even longer than before. She swears under her breath, feeling dirty and uncomfortable as she continues to grind her foot against your cheekbones and nose.

As you hand yet another five grand to her, she accepts it with a sigh of resignation and continues to massage your face roughly with her filthy shoes. Her expression hardens into something cold and distant as she focuses on getting this sick display over with as quickly as possible.

When she noticed that you had given her considerably more money than a normal client would, a slow realization dawned on her. You weren't just some pervert with an unusual fetish; you were actually trying to buy something else from her. And that "something else" was...her. The knowledge both infuriated and terrified her at the same time. She couldn't believe she had almost been sold into sexual slavery like this, but there it was, staring her in the face: you were offering a sum of money large enough to make everything go away, as long as she complied with your sick demands.

Even as she continued to massage your face with her dirty shoes, a part of her brain registered the fact that this was indeed not "sick" in the traditional sense; it was just an unusual preference. And she had to admit, you weren't lying about loving shoes. But that didn't change the fact that what you were asking for was completely beyond the realm of anything she would ever consider doing.

But as she massaged your face harder than ever before, a thought began to creep into her mind: maybe there was some way to use this situation to her advantage...