Studious Soles (2025 Sugarcoat foot fetish story)

 

You did indeed make it. You left your final class of the day, relieved that the day was finally over. Relieved that you could finally shut your mind off for a moment.

 

Well, that’s what you wanted to say. You knew in the back of your mind that you weren’t doing all that well in one of your classes, and you had a very important test coming up the next day. You never were quite able to get your mind focused on such boring material, but where would you be if you got an F in the class?

 

Your classroom partner for the semester, Sugarcoat, had taken notice of just how much help you needed. She knew it was your last chance at a passing grade.

 

In her own, stony-faced way, Sugarcoat approached you, and had taken pity on you. She told you to meet her in front of the school library for extra support after the day ended.

 

Of course, you didn’t have anywhere to be except in front of your PC at home, and you weren’t exactly used to telling her no, so you agreed to meet her as scheduled.

 

“Yeah…I’m here. So…onwards?” you asked, as you walked up to your new tutor.

 

She handed you the two textbooks she was carrying, opening up the large double doors. She held them open and gesturing for you to go ahead, which you promptly did after a quick thank you.

 

You never quite got how they could afford such a lavishly-decorated crystal-walled library, nor how they could afford it to be so massive. Nor did you understand the most bewildering thing about the veritable palace of books: That the entire thing was carpeted, and students were required to remove their shoes before stepping further inside.

 

Being someone who rather…appreciated the results of such an anti-shoe policy, though, you didn’t bother to question any of it. You found yourself hanging out in the massive space during breaks, during lunches. Just enjoying the books, the computers, the welcome sights. Anytime you could sit down and relax, you were in the library.

 

You bent down to remove your shoes as usual, placing them in a nearby cubby, just in time for you to catch sight of Sugarcoat’s maroon-clad feet sliding out of hers. You could just about catch the outlines of her toes at the ends of her socks.

 

A sweet new sight, to be sure, but at the moment you didn’t need another one of your fellow students’ feet clouding your mind. You were there on business. So you quickly snapped your head back up to look at your tutor, whose arms were folded and eyes looked stone cold.

 

“Did you black out for a moment? Make sure to stay conscious. This is important,” she said.

 

“Yes, Sugar,” you replied.

 

“Good. Let’s go somewhere quiet. We don’t need any distractions,” she more commanded than suggested. Without awaiting a response from you, she turned around and walked towards a more secluded wing of the library. The shelves may have been mazelike, but you knew your way around the place quite well. You knew exactly where she was taking you.

 

At the end of one of the corridors of shelves, she pointed to two large, crystal-coloured, heart shaped beanbags.

 

“Oh, good choice, I love this area,” you said, sitting yourself down on one of them while placing one of the textbooks next to Sugarcoat, who had also taken a seat.

 

Your partner and tutor brushed her thick, cloudy-looking pigtails out of the way, so they draped over the back of the beanbag. She then leaned back and opened up her book, crossing one of her legs over the other, making herself quite comfortable. “Like I said, I want to make sure you had no distractions around. Now listen up.”

 

Out of respect for Sugarcoat, you sat up straight, and put your best foot forward and listened to her as she read out the areas you were having trouble with. Sugarcoat’s voice was low, but clear and to the point, and you did find yourself enjoying listening to her teach you much more than being in Mr. Uncle Orange’s class, the one you weren’t doing so well in. You could only hope to the heavens that you would remember any of this.

 

But your mind began to drift. It was subtle at first. A glance at her foot on the ground, extending outwards as she stretched. A small adjustment of her crossed leg’s position, repositioning her other foot in the air.

 

You were starting to hear Sugarcoat, but not quite fully listen to her. Her feet were continuously making movements, each one more appealing to look at than the last.

 

Her airborne foot stretching itself in a hypnotic, circular motion. Her other foot’s toes clearly splaying in her socks, ending with only her toes on the ground and sole facing away, as you were so used to seeing from those sitting in front of you in class.

 

Your eyes lingered on both of your tutor’s feet, one resting atop the other, the two of them gently rubbing against each other.

 

You didn’t realise how long you had been enraptured by the sight until Sugarcoat hit you with a rather sudden question, a pop quiz, about the material. A question which, due to your lack of attention on the written words or her voice, you got completely wrong.

 

“Anon. Eyes up here. Listen to me if you want to pass, don’t if you want to fail. It’s simple,” she said, pointing to her face.

 

“I uh, I was listening. Promise. I’m just not a good learner, or test taker!”

 

"You're not listening to me. You're actually just staring at my feet," Sugarcoat said, bluntly. "Why?"

 

Your face turned a shade of crimson resembling a local beet-farm. You stammered out, "Wh-Sugarcoat, I was just-"

 

Her eyes narrowed at you. She sat up straight in her beanbag, glaring at you. She then held up a single finger to silence you. "Anon, this is a library. You don't want any more of the student body knowing what you're gawking at, do you?"

 

She was right to warn you, despite the secluded corner of the library the two of you were in. You quickly lowered your voice to a whisper once again. "Sugar, p-please, I didn't do anything wrong, let's just..."

 

"You didn't do anything wrong, Anon. But you're getting distracted by your fetish," she reassured you. "This is a habit you have to get a hold of."

 

"Habit? But-"

 

"I see you looking in class all the time. Below the desks. After all, Mr. Uncle Orange assigned us as partners for the semester. It doesn't take Crystal Prep Honours to figure out why you can't focus."

 

You sat there in stunned silence, the true scale of the pure shame and embarrassment flooding in. Why couldn't you have just had an actual mental issue instead? Or at least kept it on the down low!

 

"I know what you're thinking, Anon. Don't fret over it. It's not my business to tell anyone. But that doesn't mean people won't make fun of you for it if they find out. I'm looking out for you here."

 

You weren't quite sure how to respond. "Oh...uh, thanks Sugarcoat? For not, uh..."

 

"You're not subtle, Anon, but others won't pick up on it as easily as I did. You're safe. Now, are you going to focus on the task at hand? Or are you going to obsess over what some random girl's socks look like?" your impromptu tutor asked, straightening her glasses and returning her gaze to the textbook.

 

Your heart was telling you the answer, and the answer did not involve paperwork or books. Your eyes once again wandered down her tight leggings towards her elegant uniform socks, picturing for a split second what it looked like underneath the fabric.

 

You soon pushed away the improper thoughts, and took a deep breath. "I'll...pay attention now. I need to pass the class."

 

"No, you clearly won't. You're REALLY bad at lying. You're thinking about me with my socks off. And you're not going to stop," she replied, placing the book off to the side.

 

"Should we...go to a table or something then? So I don't see them anymore," you said.

 

Sugarcoat rested her head on her hand for a moment, thinking to herself. "Anon, I have an idea. I'm going to make you pass. Both for your reputation, and the school's. If books and teachers won't get your head in the game, I think I know what will."

 

You thought you saw her toes curl for a moment. She definitely caught you stealing a glance.

 

"Remember, this is just a favour. I'm going to let you see what you want to see. You don't have a girlfriend, right?"

 

You didn't share too much of your life outside school, but Sugarcoat was very perceptive. Not that it took much to figure out.

 

Your partner scooted her beanbag closer, placing her socked feet on the edge of yours. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Maybe being around THOSE four rubbed off on me."

 

You gulped upon seeing them so close, sweat dripping down your face. You could just about pick up a hint of her perfume, which smelled fittingly like pure sugar.

 

"We're getting back to studying, Anon," Sugarcoat said, firmly, "If you want to take off my socks so bad, you'll pay attention this time. And be quiet about it. Got it?"

 

You reached to your side to lay a hand on your tutor's right foot, but her stony expression made you reconsider your move. "Not till I say so. Textbook first. Now listen."

 

With your head full of anticipation, you picked up your books and began to read along with Sugarcoat reciting the book next to you.

 

In her usual style, she abruptly stopped reading the passage, and drilled you with a pop quiz.

 

Nodding in approval at your answer, Sugarcoat lifted one leg, and placed her left foot on your thigh. "Don't forget it, Anon. This is all gonna be on the test."

 

You shivered, your trousers beginning to tighten. Your hand reached to your leg, cautiously, stopping just shy of the socked foot on your leg. Sugarcoat glanced up at you, emotionless as ever, and nodded. "You can touch it. Just try not to be too weird."

 

As she looked down at her textbook and flipped to the next page, you proceeded to stroke the back of your tutor's foot, your palm gently running up and down the silky fabric. Her toes scrunched in response, but her iconic serious face never faltered.

 

With Sugarcoat's warm, slender foot in hand, and more motivation than ever to listen to her, you began to find yourself unable to focus on your own book. Your attention gradually shifted from the written words to the sound of her voice, reading the passages quietly. The minutes ticked by, but the time started to become less and less relevant to you.

 

Another pop quiz. Remembering what she read to you only minutes after you first held her foot, you confidently nailed her question.

 

"Right. Here's the other," she nodded, putting her right foot alongside her left in your lap, her ankles crossed over one another. "Yeah, you can hold both now. Let's move on."

 

You decided to massage both of them, lightly at first, your fingers sinking into the soft fabric of her socks and feeling the warmth from within. With such a burning desire to see and feel more, you cleared your throat, your mind 100% open to absorbing what Sugarcoat was reading off to you.

 

Some time later, after even more students had left the library for the day, your tutor slapped you with yet another quiz. Thanks in no small part to her toes curling while you rubbed them, you explained your (correct) answer clearly and concisely. Just like Sugarcoat would.

 

"You're paying attention now. Take off my socks," she ordered, in a low voice. A tiny part of you was still unsure whether to get so far into this in the school library, but the irrational lizard-part of your brain decided the risk was acceptable.

 

One by one you peeled off the maroon socks. The sight hidden within was every bit as perfect as you imagined. Slender shape, gently curved arches, toes that splayed appealingly at the sensation of the cool library air. The back of your hand caressed each underside of her periwinkle feet, savouring every second of contact with the supple surfaces.

 

"When you can close your jaw and finish gawking at them, we'll keep going," Sugarcoat said. She scooted even closer to you, both of her soft soles inching their way off your thigh and into your lap. Directly onto your rather painful bulge.

 

With your body shuddering in pleasure and your bulge now leaking, you quickly checked your already-secluded surroundings to ensure you were safe. Sugarcoat, however, looked completely unfazed by the vulnerable position you both were in.

 

"Let's keep going. You don't have anywhere to be," she said, flipping a few more pages of the book. As she continued to speak, and you continued to explore every inch of her bare feet with your hands, the minutes began to fly by. You were losing track of how long you two had been sitting there.

 

You found yourself with an aching desire for Mr. Uncle Orange to be replaced with your current teacher, the best of all the Shadowbolts, Sugarcoat herself. She was the one person who was able to make you pay attention.

 

And speaking of paying attention, your grasp on her bare feet suddenly tightened as your tutor hit you with another pop quiz. One that you instantly breezed through, your fingers locked between her beautiful toes.

 

"Right again. What a surprise," Sugarcoat remarked. She pushed her naked soles quite firmly onto the tent in your pants, rubbing against it back and forth.

 

"S-Sugar, mmph..." You moaned under your breath. Sugarcoat held up one finger to shush you, and leaned over to the nearby shelf, straightening her glasses and pushing two books aside as if she was looking for something while her feet dragged against your bulge.

 

You briefly saw the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the library windows. Just how long have you two been studying?

 

"Nobody's ever here after five. I was just making sure," she said, looking back at you with the same calculated expression. She lifted her feet slightly, to wrap the soles around the tip of the tightness in your pants. "Now take them off."

 

You knew that she wasn't the type of person you deny. So without delay, you obeyed Sugarcoat's order and pulled down your uniform slacks, as well as your boxer shorts. Your cock sprang free, the tip glistening with your pent-up pre.

 

Sugarcoat nodded in approval upon seeing your member twitching for attention, folding her arms. "You're adequate. I can work with it," she remarked plainly, returning you to the embrace of her amazingly-soft soles, but this time without fancy fabric impeding your pleasure.

 

Your head leaned back as your hands squeezed the tops of her feet ever tighter, your entire body reaching a state of bliss. You twitched as she curled her feet slightly, moving them smoothly up and down in opposing directions.

 

"I'm doing you a favour, so try to enjoy it for more than a few seconds. Don't just blow. Take your time and remember this and you'll pass."

 

"Th-Thank...ohhh..." you managed to groan out.

 

"Don't mention it. And I do mean that," your tutor demanded, "And don't get it on my leggings."

 

You weren't about to give anyone any tea to spill. You simply gave her a brief thumbs up, and she moved her feet out of your hands in order to work more freely. Her silky soft feet picked up their pace, the precum from your tip helping them to glide up and down your member smoothly and easily. Your tip was gripped between her big and second toes on her right foot, while her left slid the soft bottom in circles around the middle and lower areas.

 

Your eyes blurred out of focus, but you could still both see and feel her feet adjust around your cock. The back of one foot pushed you into the sole of the other, both feet tightening their grip on your twitching member.

 

"Sugar, I-I'm...I'm gonna..." you stammered, while her feet steadily moved upwards towards your tip. The sight of your pre lewdly dripping down her exposed sole, the sensation of warmth from her skilled, graceful feet, the ever-stoic expression on her face. It was all becoming too much to bear.

 

"I know. Do it," she commanded.

 

Your body writhed slightly as her soles once again came together, snugly hugging around the base of your cock. Within seconds, all of your wildest, most heated dreams came true, and both her left and right foot pumped your cock for all it was worth. Spurt after spurt of your essence flew out and landed across the divinely soft, silky smooth feet of your tutor, running down between her toes and further down her curvy soles.

 

"Only a minute. You could do better," Sugarcoat sighed. She lifted one leg off your lap and curled her toes, your semen further spread between them.

 

"S...Sorry, Sugar," you panted, blushing furiously while her periwinkle toes moved enticingly. Your hips bucked a little against her foot remaining in your lap, your length rubbing up against her arch.

 

"You'll hold on better in time. Now, I'm going to stay here a while longer and do my homework. I'm assuming now you want to stay and spend time with me, seeing the mess you made."

 

"I...have nowhere to go, Sugar...I guess it's the least I can do...and uh, can I..."

 

She sighed and pulled her white-splattered feet back towards herself. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Anon. You're obsessed. But at least you now know how to use that to your advantage. Find something to clean them up with, and we can get started."

 

Shakily, you managed to pull yourself out of your beanbag, redressing yourself and walking out into the rest of the deserted library, finding a box of tissues for your sweet tutor. As you sat back down next to her, without even looking up from her new book, she placed her feet up on your legs. Sugarcoat did not need words to command you, she simply expected, and you, being as infatuated as you now were, were fully willing to do what she asked.

 

Maybe she’d let you study with her enough to get Honours, like her?