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Description
Say that three time really fast.

After his crazy ex-girlfriend threw out most of his clothes, including all of his shoes, poor Elliott had no choice but to drive to the mall to get at least a pair of regular running shoes for everyday uses. Unfortunately, on a meager budget, even the most basic of shoes seemed out of his price range. That is, until he found this tiny boutique at the far end of the mall. The owner was an older man with a flat-top haircut and clothes that belonged in the 1970s. As did the store's decor, come to think of it. But, his prices fit Elliott's range.

The shoes, however, weren't great. Then again, it's not like Elliott could afford to be picky. He found a pair that would do the trick and sat on the lone fuzzy cushion in the middle of the floor. Before he could ask to get a pair fitting his side, the older man grabbed hold of Elliott's foot, lifting a leg up and removing his socks. Elliott opened his mouth to protest but before any word could come out, the owner uttered "9.5 wide, thin insole, extra heel support" before letting go of the young man's foot and casually walking into the backstore.

Holy crap. He knew exactly what type of shoe Elliott needed. Did he guess that just by observing his foot? Well, as awkward as the method was, it sure was effective. For a while, Elliott waited. And waited...

And waited some more...

Until the clerk finally returned from the backstore... without any shoes. Something was definitely shady about this. Elliott attempted to leave, but the older man was much faster than he anticipated, grabbing his feet and forcing the young man's legs up. Thick bristles brushed against the young man's sensitive soles, sending him into fits of involuntary laughter. Unfortunately for him, Clarence of Clarence's Clearance Clogs had been looking for feet just like his for years. And now they'd just waltzed up into his store.

Elliott pleaded between his laughs as the man's tickling, brushing and licking of his soles rendered him totally helpless. Besides, it seems as though Clarence has been waiting for this moment for far too long to let up any time soon... if ever.

---

Another fun piece. Been working on this for a while now but only just now got around to finalizing it. For those who might wonder, yes, Clarence is The Fuzzmeister, a dastardly (if lower-tier) supervillain in Glenmetropolis. Enjoy as always!

Elliott Scott Prescott, Clarence Whifflebaum a.k.a. The Fuzzmeister ©

Description
Say that three time really fast.

After his crazy ex-girlfriend threw out most of his clothes, including all of his shoes, poor Elliott had no choice but to drive to the mall to get at least a pair of regular running shoes for everyday uses. Unfortunately, on a meager budget, even the most basic of shoes seemed out of his price range. That is, until he found this tiny boutique at the far end of the mall. The owner was an older man with a flat-top haircut and clothes that belonged in the 1970s. As did the store's decor, come to think of it. But, his prices fit Elliott's range.

The shoes, however, weren't great. Then again, it's not like Elliott could afford to be picky. He found a pair that would do the trick and sat on the lone fuzzy cushion in the middle of the floor. Before he could ask to get a pair fitting his side, the older man grabbed hold of Elliott's foot, lifting a leg up and removing his socks. Elliott opened his mouth to protest but before any word could come out, the owner uttered "9.5 wide, thin insole, extra heel support" before letting go of the young man's foot and casually walking into the backstore.

Holy crap. He knew exactly what type of shoe Elliott needed. Did he guess that just by observing his foot? Well, as awkward as the method was, it sure was effective. For a while, Elliott waited. And waited...

And waited some more...

Until the clerk finally returned from the backstore... without any shoes. Something was definitely shady about this. Elliott attempted to leave, but the older man was much faster than he anticipated, grabbing his feet and forcing the young man's legs up. Thick bristles brushed against the young man's sensitive soles, sending him into fits of involuntary laughter. Unfortunately for him, Clarence of Clarence's Clearance Clogs had been looking for feet just like his for years. And now they'd just waltzed up into his store.

Elliott pleaded between his laughs as the man's tickling, brushing and licking of his soles rendered him totally helpless. Besides, it seems as though Clarence has been waiting for this moment for far too long to let up any time soon... if ever.

---

Another fun piece. Been working on this for a while now but only just now got around to finalizing it. For those who might wonder, yes, Clarence is The Fuzzmeister, a dastardly (if lower-tier) supervillain in Glenmetropolis. Enjoy as always!

Elliott Scott Prescott, Clarence Whifflebaum a.k.a. The Fuzzmeister ©