the bettie: a work in progress

Table of Contents

Chapter Two Foot Fetish, Lesbians, and the 873

The train rattled. No other word for it. And it made Charlie a bit sick.

Not normally given to motion sickness, Charles Mitchell Dawson felt his stomach lurch left, and right, and finally to his throat. Something about his encounter with the Betty, and Jake’s ridicule, set strangely in his normally profound constitution. Charlie's body, acclimated by years of abuse--horror show levels of drink, cigarettes, and greasy foodstuffs--took a decided downward turn, toiling in new found queasiness.

Rather than bottling his feelings, as was his usual tack, insecurity and self-loathing began to manifest physically. He knew he’d have to disembark at the next stop, call in sick to work, and then head back home the opposite direction.

And he would have, if not for the lovely feet of the two lesbians sitting across from him.

Charlie, despite his vast array of sexual proclivities, had never, until now, yet considered the beauty of the human foot.

True, like many men (and most women), he held an appreciation for deliberate care. The gentle polishing of toe, the removal of callouses held certain appeal, true.

But actual, Victorian, appreciation, dare he call it lust, for the foot itself, as more than means of locomotion, never quite manifested for Charlie. Until now. On the way to work. On the 873 train.