Today was the day, Amanda thought, as she taped up a box labelled KITCHEN, moving day. She carried the heavy box down to the garage, her grey minivan mostly full with her possessions. One last box labelled TROPHIES sat in the now-empty living room.
Returning inside, Amanda knelt down to tape up the last box, but a wave of nostalgia washed over her as she saw the contents. It contained 5 pairs of shoes, each one a story. The white Chuck Taylors belonged to Anna back in 2005, her soles made for a nice filet, breaded and fried. A pair of flats that belonged to Sarah in 2007, her feet were barbecued, and sliced between the toes so they looked like a rack of ribs. The well-worn pair of Toms came from Cassie in 2010, the ground meat from her feet made for excellent burgers. A pair of pumps from Nora, she had to learn how to cook ramen from her friend Kenneth back in 2013 to lend a bit of authenticity to this Japanese-American pair, and the broth was one of the tastiest she’s ever had.
But the most recent pair of shoes, a black leather high-heeled boot, belonged to Amanda’s former student, Mary. She had sworn off cannibalism in 2013, her last pair being Nora’s, and she’d decided to settle down in Wisconsin to earn an honest living. She ended up learning cosmetology, and worked at a salon for 3 years until she was hired to be an instructor in the local college to teach techniques she picked up while working at the salon.
It started out as any other semester, she’d found her class to be filled with different women. She’d had her fill of oggling different kinds of feet while teaching, especially since most of the women in her class wear a rotation of shoes with varying degrees of exposure. On some days, her class was filled mostly with sandaled feet. Fortunately for her, she found none of them appetizing. She’d love to keep this job, and she’d like to stay here.
There was one woman in her class whose feet she hadn’t seen yet, and it piqued her curiosity. Her name was Mary. Mary would always wear leather boots with heels, and Amanda was sure she’d never seen Mary wear anything else. She couldn’t help but imagine how they look, how they smell… How they’d taste. She felt her old hunger stir inside her.
Snap out of it, Amanda, she thought to herself, you promised yourself that Nora would be the last. Not after what happened. And it would raise huge alarm bells if a student went missing. It’s not worth it. You’re happy here. Keep it that way.
Amanda was known on campus as the motherly kind of teacher. She would often go out with students where she provided a safe space for them to talk about themselves, their dreams, their problems. She was supposed to meet Mary and another student, but only one of them showed up. Mary walked into the cafe wearing her usual attire. And as always, Amanda was disappointed. She would not be seeing Mary’s feet today. She brushed aside the thought. Today, her role was denmother.
They sat at a table, talking about life in between sips of espresso. Mary talked about why she wanted to do this, and confided that she had no other family left aside from her sick mother. She wanted to put herself through cosmetology school so she can provide for her ailing mother’s needs. They continued on for hours, talking about politics, problems, and aspirations. Mary was more than just an object of obsession for Amanda now. She was more than a pair of feet. She was a person.
A few weeks passed, and still Mary had yet to show her feet, and Amanda was about to give up, though her curiosity was getting to her. She’d had dreams of her forcibly removing Mary’s boots and being met with the most perfect pair she’s ever seen. Perhaps, even better than Nora’s. In the dream, Mary’s feet smelled like sweat and leather, Amanda’s favorite combination. They were soft, tender. She felt her dream-self draw nearer and nearer, until her face was close enough to lick Mary’s soles. She stuck her tongue out and…
She woke up, aroused. She needed to see Mary’s feet. She had to hatch a plan. It’s the only way for her to get rid of this obsession and satisfy her curiosity. She figured that if she knew what they looked like, this madness, this hunger would stop plaguing her. It was the only way.
“What is with this girl’s feet that I'm so obsessed with?” She wondered out loud, “I haven’t even seen them in person. For all I know she has terrible bunions and disgusting nails. Ugh, I need to let off steam.”
It was a Saturday, and she’d decide to go to the local club that evening to find a casual hook up. She looked forward to a quiet night of flirting, foreplay, and possibly, sex. Sadly, what awaited her at the bar was not what she expected at all.
“Goddamit, it’s music and open mic night,” she said as she turned into the parking lot. She could hear muffled music coming from the club as the bouncer let people in, “I was looking forward to something a little more quiet.”
She put her head on the steering wheel and sighed. “I guess It’s not too late to head home, drink wine and watch some bad TV.” As she lifted her head to drive away, she noticed something in her peripheral vision. It was Mary! She was with a group of people she did not recognize.
“Huh, must be from outside my class,” she said. She gave them a look over and noticed that most of them were wearing party heels, but was met with disappointment when she saw that Mary was wearing her usual pair of boots. What was Mary doing here? Was it possible for Amanda to seduce her? She shot down that idea. Student/teacher relationships were always a bad idea, and she’s too professional for that. She had two choices. Either she goes home to spend the night alone drinking wine, or stay here and see how this plays out. But it’s a bar, and she’s only interested in Mary for one thing, and it’s not like she’d have opportunities here for that. In the end though, her curiosity won.
Straight to the bar she went, settling in on an empty bar stool. She waved down the bartender to make her favorite drink, a gin and tonic, and observed the scene around her. Loud music blared from the speaker as the crowd sang and danced to some amateur college band’s rock music. The general atmosphere was lively, and the smell of sweat and alcohol permeated the air. She scanned around for Mary, but she only saw the group she went in with. She counted three girls, all wearing some variant of a party dress with matching high heels. Bet those smell great after a night of partying, she thought. And she’d started to wonder if Mary ever wore socks with her boots.
As if on cue, she saw Mary a table away from her friends. She was talking to a guy and looked like they were hitting it off. She laughed at some joke as they shared stories. Turns out she’s straight after all. Mary looked like she was excusing herself, and made her way toward the bathrooms. Amanda looked on as the guy reached into his pocket and looked around nervously. Thinking it was safe, he produced a tiny vial and slipped some strange white pills into Mary’s drink.
If this plays out the way she wanted to, this could be her big chance at Mary’s feet. Amanda got up and made her way to the table as Mary exited the bathroom. She was halfway there when Mary sat down, picking up her drink.
“Mary, stop!” Amanda screamed as her student put her lips to the glass, taking a tiny sip, “this shithead slipped something in your drink.” Immediately, Mary spat out.
“WHAT!”, she looked incredulous. “What the fuck, Travis.”
“She’s lying,” Travis replied, wide-eyed.
“Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if you showed us what’s in your pocket then?” Amanda said, as she took the drink away from Mary.
He stood there frozen, unable to make eye contact.
“I… I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered out.
Mary took the glass from Amanda and threw the contents into Travis’ face. She stormed out. Amanda followed. She wanted to make sure Mary was safe.
“Mary, wait!” Amanda shouted.
“I appreciate the help, Miss Cooper,” she said as she hugged herself, “but I’d very much just want to go home right now.”
“That would be a bad idea, Mary. He might follow you home. You can stay at my place tonight just to make sure you’re safe. And if he does follow us, at least you wouldn’t be alone.”
“Are you sure that’s okay, Miss Cooper?”
“Of course dear, it’s no problem at all.” Perfect. Everything’s going according to plan.
Amanda could not believe her luck. Was this a sign that the fates wanted her to consume Mary’s feet? After all, if she played her cards right, anything that might happen to Mary would be pinned on Travis. There were a dozen witnesses to what that little shithead tried to do, and she’d make sure that no one knew that Mary went home with her tonight. This was too perfect. Well, almost.
She wrestled with her conscience the whole drive home. Could she, would she really have the conviction to do what she wanted to do? Mary was such a wonderful woman with admirable dreams, did she deserve for this to happen to her? And Amanda’s life here was good. Idyllic. She was a respectable member of her college faculty. The students even consider her a second mother and friend. Would she want to give that up? Why would she let her hunger get in the way of that? She’d have to move in case anything happened. She’d need to uproot her life, all because of one pair of feet. Was it really worth it?
Then she thought about all her victims. She never got caught, nor was suspicion ever laid on her. She almost got too careless with Nora, but in the end, nothing came of it. If she got away with four, who’s to say she won’t get away with five? It’s been a long time since she ate Nora’s feet. Surely she deserved a reward for lasting this long. She started formulating her exit strategy, and thought about how she’d be able to get away with this.
Amanda had still not made up her mind as she pulled into her garage. The pros haven’t outweighed the cons significantly. If she needed to decide, certainly now is not the time. She got out of the car and helped Mary, who was at this point too drowsy to walk without any assistance. Whatever Travis slipped in her drink, that one sip Mary had was enough to almost knock her out. Who knows what could have happened if she drank the whole thing?
Inside, Amanda led Mary toward the couch. This was the perfect time for the big reveal. It’s not like Mary would find anything suspicious if she started to remove her footwear. After all, she’d want her guest to be comfortable. She undid the buckles of Mary’s black leather boots and popped them off. Both women were immediately greeted by the smell of sweat and leather. This drove Amanda wild. She could feel her heart beat a thousand times per minute.
“I’m really sorry, Miss Cooper,” Mary said drowsily as the smell enveloped them, “the girls got to me before I could get home and change. I’ve worn this the whole day.”
Amanda did not reply. She was transfixed on Mary’s feet, still covered by a pair of well-worn grey ped socks. The toe, ball and heel sections were tinged brown from dirt, as though they haven’t been washed for some time now.
“I’ve also forgotten to do laundry,” Mary added, “I’ve worn these for three days since I ran out sock-zzzzz.”
Amanda looked up and saw that Mary dozed off. This was her big chance. The moment of truth. She hooked her finger on the elastic of her right sock and pulled it off slowly. She did this deliberately, wanting to savor the moment of the big reveal. She let her finger feel the soft, plush heel as it popped out of the sock. They were round. Meaty. She could tell they’d be juicy once they were done cooking. She continued pulling upward, letting her finger linger on the smooth arch. She could imagine the oils and juices pooling on the soft wrinkles on Mary’s foot. She dragged her finger upward as she continued pulling the sock off. Mary let out a small giggle. The girl was ticklish after all! Finally, the sock came off, her plump toes popping out one by one as the tender ball was revealed. She examined closely, relieved that Mary did not have any bunions. She gave the foot a close eye, looking for any callous or hard patches of skin, and was pleased to find that Mary did not have any. She visually devoured Mary’s foot as she thought of how to cook them.
She took the other foot, and forgetting her earlier deliberateness, she popped off the boot and peeled off the sock with such haste that it would have woken Mary up were she not under the influence of whatever Travis gave her. Seeing Mary’s lack of reaction, Amanda dove for her feet. She took the right foot and took a long hard sniff between the toes, inhaling that wonderful aroma. She shivered as Mary’s scent entered her nose, sending pleasure signasl to her brain. She stuck her tongue out and the salty-spicy flavor of Mary’s sweaty foot filled her mouth as she rubbed the sole of the other foot on her face. She made her way down the right foot and wrapped her lips around the fleshy heel. She sucked hard, savoring the flavor of the sweat that accumulated as Mary went on with her day. She popped the big toe in her mouth and sucked hard as though it was lollipop. She slid her tongue between the toes one by one to get all the flavor out, and Mary started giggling. Amanda froze.
“Oh Connor, stop”, she said dreamily, followed by a stream of loud snores. Amanda carried on with worshipping Mary’s feet. She switched to the other foot, repeating every movement, every stroke of her mouth and tongue, giving them the same treatment. Every moment, every second that passed the idea of dining on Mary’s feet solidified in Amanda’s head. She had come to a decision.
But no. Her conscience weighed on her. A voice in her head told her that it wasn’t worth it. She could not bear the thought of ending the life of such a sweet, optimistic woman. She sighed. She’d gotten soft.
She got up and went to get a towel to dry Mary’s feet. She’d decided to let her go. Her hunger would not get the best of her. Not with Mary. Not tonight. She cleaned up Mary’s feet, put her socks and boots back on, and left her sleeping. In her reverie, she did not notice how loud Mary’s snoring was. She retired to her room, and resolved to bring Mary home in the morning.
The next day, Amanda woke up. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. She made her way to the kitchen and took out bacon and eggs from the fridge. She glanced toward the living room and remembered that she had let Mary stay for the night.
“Mary,” she called out, “hey Mary, I’m making breakfast, do you want any?”
No response.
She walked toward the couch and sensed that something was amiss. It was too quiet. Mary was too quiet. She saw her student, slumped over, and she could not hear any sounds of breathing at all.
“No, nonononono”, Amanda panicked. She rummaged through Mary’s purse, trying to figure out what caused it. She saw a pill bottle. Mary was taking some kind of medication, and perhaps the drug Travis slipped in her drink last night had some adverse effects. Fate, it seems, had planned everything for Amanda. Fate had decided for her.
Once this realization hit, Amanda calmed down. She knew what she had to do. A plan started forming in her head. She couldn’t believe it, she could have Mary’s feet for herself and get away with it. She moved to set her plan in motion.
First things first, she carried Mary over to the kitchen counter, and laid her flat on her back. She removed the boots and socks and set them aside. She took some towels and tied tourniquets around Mary’s lifeless ankles. She needed to minimize the mess. She took a cleaver, placed a chopping board beneath Mary’s feet, and in one swift motion, chopped the right foot off cleanly. She’d done this enough times to do it swiftly, cleanly. She moved on to the other foot and repeated the process. She washed the severed feet and massaged them to squeeze all the blood out. Once done, she patted them dry, placed them on a dish and stored them in the fridge. She’ll worry about them later.
She checked outside to make sure no one was looking. Once she felt it was safe, she wrapped Mary’s stumps in plastic and carried the footless body into her car and drove for the woods.
“I’m really sorry I took your feet, sweetie”, she said as she dumped Mary’s body, “but opportunities like this come very rarely. And I’d rather your feet become food for me than become food for the dirt. I’m really sorry Mary, but it wasn’t me who killed you. But I promise, justice will come for Travis.”
Once that was taken care of she drove home as fast as the speed limit allowed. She thought of a dozen recipes to use for Mary’s feet. She was salivating. She’d come to a decision as soon as she got home.
She preheated the oven and took the tasty morsels out from the fridge and admired them. She scrutinized every detail on Mary’s feet, every wrinkle, every toe. She couldn’t wait. She planted a kiss on the arch of each foot and started pounding the soles with a meat tenderizer. Mary’s feet were already soft and tender, but it never hurts to tenderize them further. She did it softly, as she didn’t want to break the bones, else it would ruin the presentation.
She patted the feet dry and made incisions on the tops of each foot, between the second and third metatarsals. Not so deep as to cut all the way through, but deep enough to put a sprig of rosemary in the middle of each foot. She added enough salt and pepper to taste, but not so much as to overpower the natural flavor of Mary’s feet. Once Mary’s feet were tenderized and well-seasoned, Amanda laid them soles up on a cast iron skillet. A stick of butter was placed in between the arches. She set the timer for 60 minutes and placed the skillet in the oven.
Every 15 minutes, she’d check on Mary’s feet, and baste them. Amanda made sure the feet wouldn’t dry out. Once the hour passed, she took the feet out of the oven and transferred them to a different dish to rest. She took the accumulated pan juices and made a simple gravy.
As Mary’s feet rested, Amanda took out a bottle of red wine. She found that they paired well with women’s feet. She set the table, put the gravy in a gravy boat, and prepared to tuck in. She couldn’t believe it. It’s been 8 years since she last ate a pair of feet. And after obsessing over Mary’s feet for a long time, she’ll finally be able to eat them. She started salivating.
She decided to go for the right foot first. She poked at Mary’s heel, releasing the flavorful juices inside. It ran down the sole, some juices pooling at the wrinkles, and covered the toes. She started with the pinky toe, slicing off the tasty morsel. She put the toe whole in her mouth and spat the bones and nail out once all the meat was sucked out. She made her way through all four of the small toes the same way, the pile of discarded phalanges growing. She thought about the night before, how she was just worshipping these small little toes, now destined to be nourishment for her body.
At last she reached one of her favorite parts: the pad on the big toe. She sliced off the underside of Mary’s big toe and chewed on it. The texture was firm, yet tender, a flavor explosion of pure Mary in her mouth. She sucked out the remaining meat on the toe and discarded the bones, set aside to join its siblings.
Once all the toes were gone, she moved her way up the rest of the foot. The meat on the ball of her foot was firm, yet gave in easily as she chewed. The meat on the side of Mary’s foot was tasty, with the same texture as the ball but with a slightly different flavor, as it was close to the bone. Amanda’s knife then moved to her favorite part: the arch. Women’s arches normally do not make contact with the ground, and this leads to a more tender, melt-in-your mouth morsel that’s different from the rest of the foot. She closed her eyes as the arch meat made contact with her tongue, her body shivered. The experience was orgasmic. Once the rest of the arch was gone, she picked the foot up and bit down on the heel. Tasty foot juices covered Amanda’s mouth as she took bite after bite of Mary’s well-rounded heel.
Once all of the meat on the sole was gone, Amanda picked the foot apart. She used her fingers, digging deep and picking off every strip of flesh on the mostly eaten right foot. Each bone was sucked dry of flavor. Even the achilles tendon was consumed. Yet Amanda was not done. There was still one other foot.
Soon, nothing was left of Mary’s feet but a pile of bones. Amanda sat at the table, licking her lips, wishing Mary’s feet were bigger. She was full, satisfied. Her hunger was quelled. She vowed never to wait another 8 years before eating another pair of feet. But of course, she needed to cover her tracks. She may not have killed Mary, but consumption of human flesh was still illegal.
She took the bones of Mary’s feet and prepared to clean them. She needed to make sure her DNA can never be traced, as this was crucial for her escape plan. Once she set what remained of Mary’s feet to soak in a bleaching solution, she started packing up. She knew she had to move in the next few days.
----------------------------------------------------------
As Amanda sat in the driver’s seat of her minivan, she made sure she’d done everything to cover her tracks. She went over her mental checklist: Pack up to move, track Travis down, plant evidence. The only thing left to do was to send an anonymous tip to the police to tell them where Mary’s body was. Amanda was hoping that they’d dig deep and discover that Mary had been drugged, and this would hopefully connect to Travis.
She pulled out of her driveway, thought of a new identity, and picked her next town. She dialed in the number of the police. “Hello officer, I’d like to report a dead body”.