"Hm. Hmmm. Hmmmmmmmm."

Kress didn't know if Frida was 'hmmming' because she found something genuinely interesting going on with the situation, or to fill the awkward silence. And 'awkward' was a tame description. Again, he tested the leather cuffs binding him spread-eagle to the examination table and found them just as unforgiving as when he'd been first locked into them.

"Kress, please minimize unnecessary movements." spoke Frida in her usual accented monotone.

"S-Sorry."

"Are you uncomfortable? If need be, I can adjust the restraints."

"Remind me again why there need to be restraints in the first place?"

Frida sighed and muttered something in Spanish. "It is merely a safety precaution, assurance that you won't do something rash or damaging during the course of this examination."

Somehow, based on the barely noticeable pink dusting Frida's light brown face, he wasn't convinced by her words.

"Hmmmm..." Her hazel eyes were fixated on what lied between Kress' legs. "How regularly do you shave this area, Kress?"

"T-Twice a week."

Frida tapped her chin. "So the hair grows back quickly you'd say?"

"Mhm?"

She shook her head and gestured to the camera set up by the farthest wall. "Kress, please; clear and understandable responses for the record."

"Y-Yes, the hair grows back quickly."

Nodding, Frida walked around to the side of the table, the clicking of her heels echoing in the room. The sound sent heady tingles up his spine, making him squirm ever so slightly.

"Are you uncomfortable?" asked Frida.

"I-In a sense."

She leaned over to adjust Kress' right cuff. In doing so, she provided him with the perfect view of her cleavage, along with a glimpse of her dark red bra beneath her lab coat.

"That should help considerably." she said. "If there are any concerns you have..."

He was about to ask what made her stop talking when he was able to see for himself. His cock, which had been limp due to the strangeness of the situation, was now sticking straight up, courtesy of Frida's unintentional flashing. Red bloomed across Kress' face as she looked, more out of curiosity than anger or offense. "So...this is how it looks when it's erect." Her gaze turned back to him, a brow raised. "What caused this?"

"I-I'm sorry!" stammered the dark-skinned youth. "It's just, when you leaned over, I s-saw your...your--"

"Cleavage?"

"M-Mhm."

Frida gestured again to the camera.

"Y-Yes. I saw your c-cleavage."

There was a long, painful silence as Frida gave him a look he couldn't quite figure out. "I see." she finally said. "The sight of my body provides stimulus to your genital region. This is an unexpected development indeed."

Kress didn't know if he would call it that.

"What else about my body arouses you?"

Of all the questions he expected her to ask, that one threw him for the biggest loop. "B-Beg pardon?"

"I wish to know what else about me prompts such a response." And then, with nary a trace of shame, she unbuttoned her coat, slipping it up and over her shoulders. In spite of himself, the situation, and everything, Kress couldn't help but stare. The red of her bra contrasted beautifully with her caramel skin, his eyes drifted downwards past the swell of her plump stomach (pausing to linger on her crescent moon navel piercing), to the jet black of her skirt, tan pantyhose peeking out from beneath.

"O-Oh, my god..." Kress squeaked, wondering why the room seemed so much hotter. "Frida, aren't you...e-embarrassed?"

"No." was her quick reply. "This is in the interest of science. Shame and embarrassment have no place here. Now, please. What else about me arouses you?"

There were maybe a thousand ways that line of questioning could go wrong. But as Frida stared at him and his erection expectantly, he realized she wasn't budging until he spoke.

"W-Well...you have...I mean, your...that is, to say--"

"Please be clear and understanding, Kress."

He swallowed. "You have nice breasts!"

The declaration echoed in the room, and Kress never wanted more to die than in that moment.

"I see." replied Frida, as if she heard that comment every single day. "What else?"

Momentarily stunned by her nonplussed attitude, he continued. "Y-You've got nice curves. A good amount of p-plumpness."

"That seems to be a recurring thought about me. Quite a few have referred to me as a 'BBW.'" Kress couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. It was the first time he could recall the term being spoken of in such matter-of-factness. "Please, continue."

"Your navel piercing is really hot, too. But also really beautiful. Did it...hurt when you got it?"

"How is that relevant?"

"Because I'm curious."

Frida paused, her hand drifting down to her piercing. She brushed her thumb over the piercing, the navy blue catching the fluorescent light ever so slightly. "It was only for a second."

"It looks really good on you."

Pink turned red as her cheeks flushed, and...was that a smile tugging at the corners of her lips? "What else?"

Kress was about to speak, but Frida raised her hand. "Actually, I think it prudent to examine the change in your physical state, first."

"Say what now?"

Frida crawled on top of the table, bringing her face close to Kress' length.

When Frida put up the online ad for requiring a subject for anatomical study, the first dozen or so replies had been from skeevy, creepy guys looking for an easy lay. She'd managed to scare them off with words like "needles" and "rectal thermometer", and in one very persistent case, "Pear of Anguish." But success (and relief) found her in the form of her classmate, Kress.

He had always seemed odd to her. Like many, he seemed drawn to her, but he never approached her the way other men did, via peacocking or a vaguely racist pickup line. He seemed genuinely interested in her, asking questions about her life, her interests, what she did on the weekends. Gradually she let down her shield, and found his company...pleasant. She would look forward to his appearance in her class, and be afflicted with something not quite unlike melancholy when he didn't appear. Things came to a head when he asked her out to a movie date. He was, for lack of a better term, a perfect gentleman. Picked her up, paid for the tickets (but she insisted on the snacks), and tried nothing with her for the entire film. Except when he dropped her off at home, giving her a small kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time in a long time she'd been at a loss for words.

After heading back inside and ignoring the squeals and cries of jubilation from her family, who'd seen the whole thing, she collapsed in bed, certain of two things.

One, Kress beguiled her.

Two, she found her subject.

She took down the ad in the morning, called Kress, explained the entire situation to him, at length. At first, she was worried that he'd freak out, but he agreed. When asked why, he simply replied "I trust you."

Frida didn't know why, but those three words sent a fluttering through her heart that she'd never known.

And that led to where they were now...

Up close, she had to admit there was a certain charm to Kress' cock. She wasn't a naïve waif. She'd gone through puberty years ago, and had seen plenty of genitals during her studying as a med student. But Kress' was different. Maybe it was because she was seeing it up close and in person, and not on a screen or in a book.

"You're a rather impressive size, Kress." said Frida. "Six-and-a-half inches?

"I...I guess so?"

"An acceptable size." She leaned in closer, until her nose was nearly touching the skin.

"A-Ah, Frida! Please, not so close! I sweat really easily!"

He was telling the truth; whether from nerves or humidity, a thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on him, especially around his length. The scent was strong, earthen. Tantalizing, in a way. The odor made her throat dry and her face hot. If she was capable, she'd do all she could to bottle that scent.

"Mmnaaahn..."

Frida's ears burned at the strange sound. And burned even hotter when she realized it came from Kress.

"Frida...your breath..."

It took a second to realize at some point she'd parted her lips, which resulted in a string of drool forming at the corner of her mouth, and her breath to blow against Kress' shaft.

Wiping her mouth and offering a quick apology, she found she couldn't get that moan out of her head. It was nothing like how she'd heard in videos. It was...louder. And riddled with desire.

And she'd been the cause of it.

She had to hear it again.

"May I touch it?"

Kress gave her a look like she'd grown a second head. "W-What!?"

"For scientific purposes." she said, too eagerly, too quickly.

"Um...it's not really like I can stop you..." he said, tugging his cuffs for emphasis.

"If the restraints are cumbersome and you relinquish consent, I will comply and release you immediately."

There was a pause, and then, eventually, he nodded.

"Ahem."

"Oh, s-sorry. Yes, you can t-t-touch it."

"Gracias."

Her hand was warm to the touch, slender fingers wrapping around his shaft. She wasn't expecting something so fleshy to be so hard. She moved her hand up, finger on the tip and thumb on the underside of the glans.

"Nnnnnnnmmh." Again, that aroused, desperate sound reached her eyes. Chancing a glance upwards, she saw Kress squeezing his eyes shut, biting his lip as he tried to stifle his moans.

"P-Please refrain from suppressing your auditory responses, Kress. They are important to the study."

"I'm sorry...it's just...your touch...it feels...so good."

With a blush ever deepening, she kept stroking. Up, down, up, press the tip, repeat. Her movements, though methodical, were no less arousing, and they soon had Kress shaking in his bonds.

"Kress," Frida said, trying her best to ignore the steadily growing wetness between her legs or the tightness in her chest. "Please stop squirming."

"I can't!" he rasped. "F-Frida, I'm--"

His body spoke the words he couldn't; thick ropes of white, sticky fluid spurt from his tip, what didn't land on Frida's face hit the space between his legs, the rest dribbling out as he grew limp, groaning in pleasured exhaustion.

Frida, eyes wide, pulled herself up, nearly falling off the table. Thankfully, she didn't get any in her eyes, but much of it was splattered across her face, as well as the right cup of her bra.

"Oh, god, Frida, I'm...I'm so sorry! I tried to--"

"You d-dirtied my face." she cut in. Slowly, she reached a finger up to brush away a glob that was dangling off her nose. To Kress' mounting shock, she slipped it in her mouth.

It was a bitter, powerful taste. The smell alone had her head spinning, and the wetness between her legs only grew. "Dios mio..." she spoke in a husky rasp.

If you were to tell Kress he'd wind up in this situation, he'd have thought you mad. Or at least asked follow-up questions.

"But you've gone limp." Frida clicked her tongue and wrung her hands. "Th-This won't do."

She kept her shirt off even as she wiped her face and cleaned up the table, before standing over Kress again. She'd set her bra aside, her mounds on full display. A noticeable mole rested just above her left nipple, drawing in his gaze. "Please, I need to get you hard again. How might I be able to do that?"

"I--What!?"

"It's vital for my study, Kress." she replied, a little too quickly, a little too breathlessly. "If there is any way to return you to that previous state, I implore you to impart such knowledge."

"I can't do that!"

She frowned and desired the urge to swear. "Why not?"

"I-It's embarrassing!" The second after he said that he realized how little weight that word carried after all they'd done so far. Apparently, Frida followed the same train of thought.

"Kress, please!" Composing herself with a quick clear of her throat, she continued. "This is strictly in the interest of science. I ask you to maintain a professional demeanor and inform me of the best way to elevate your arousal!"

It was clear she wasn't going to budge. And considering Frida had no problems with strutting around half-naked, masturbating him, and filming it all, what was the harm in joining her in shamelessness?

"D-Do you promise not to tell anyone?" asked Kress.

"If that is in your best interest, yes. I can be vague in that regard during my documentation. You have my word."

Her word was her bond, and she'd die before breaking it, or Kress' trust.

"I...like feet."

Frida quirked a brow. "A foot fetish? Forgive me for being so 'casual', but is that all?"

"How are you so calm about that?"

"Foot fetishism accounts for 33% of fetishes associated with body parts. And foot fetishism is one of the most common sexual fetishes overall. Trust me when I say you are not alone."

It was actually comforting to hear, and Frida's matter-of-factness calmed him down considerably. "Th-Thank you, Frida."

"I merely stated the facts." A pause. "But you are very welcome."

Before he could say anything else, the clatter of shoes being discarded reached his ears. He'd barely begun to comprehend what was going on when Frida held up her heel, tantalizingly close to his nose. "U-Um..."

"Size eleven wides." Frida spoke, answering the question he hadn't even thought to ask. "If the scent bothers you, my apologies. I believe I have some talcum p--"

"It doesn't."

Frida quirked a brow at Kress' words. "P-Pardon?"

"The smell, it...doesn't bother me." Kress said with a blush.

"Interesting..." Frida moved the shoe closer, until Kress could clearly make out the Prada logo in the sole. "And how would you describe the scent?"

Kress knew he was in dangerous territory here. Well, more dangerous. He'd never described the smell of a woman's feet before, certainly not to her face. Certainly not naked and bound on a table. More and more it seemed this day was interested in surprising him. And testing him. "I...guess the best description would be cheesy. Kinda sweaty. A bit vinegary."

"I...see. Perhaps I should take shorter walks. And invest in odor eaters."

"Really, though, the smell doesn't bother me!"

The gaze she fixed him with seemed to bore into his soul. He actually squirmed underneath it, it was so piercing. "There are only two explanations as to why the scent would not bother you. One is you're currently suffering from a sinus infection or another such malady that renders your nose currently unusable."

Kress swallowed. "And the other?"

"That you like the smell of my feet."

Based on the bloom of red on Kress' cheeks and the twitch of his length as she moved her hoe even closer, she was right on the money.

Inwardly, she was flattered, but she tried not to let it show. At least this meant if they were dating she didn't have to feel self-conscious after a long jog. 'Dating? Where did that come from? It's only been one movie...and a kiss on the cheek. I need to stay focused. I'm starting to lose myself.'

"Kress, there is something I'd like to try with you to achieve better results. I can't tell you what it is, but you'll have to trust me. I'm hoping you still do."

"I do."

"Excellent!" Kress widened his eyes and Frida cleared her throat again. "Er, excellent. Now then..."

She walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a long silk cloth from inside. Returning to Kress, she tied it around his eyes, sealing him in darkness. He gasped, but said nothing.

The scent from Frida's shoe was heightened, not just by the absence of his sight, but by Frida pressing the hole directly against his nose, and holding it in place.

"With your sight blocked and your nose buried in my shoe, the smell should be even more intense." Thankfully, he couldn't see her bite her lip, or the slight line of drool form from the corner of her mouth.

Whatever he said was muffled by her heel, but his cock spoke enough, rising to full again. Without even thinking, keeping one hand on her heel, she moved the other to it, stroking him up and down, repeating her rhythm as before. After a few seconds, however, it became taxing to do both at the same time. And then inspiration struck.

Back at the cabinet she pulled out a roll of tape, and almost dashed back to Kress' side, wrapping her heel to his face. With one half of the matter attended to, she could focus completely on Kress' cock.

Frida's inhibitions only waned more and more as she stroked him. His moans were just audible enough to make it past the heel, his body shaking as he approached another orgasm. And with his sight blocked, he couldn't see the gleeful look on her face.

"No puedo creer que estoy disfrutando esto tanto...*" she whispered, just barely aware she'd slipped into her mother tongue. She reached up to undo her pin, her ebony locks flowing wild and free around her like black fire.

He came again in no time at all, the air growing thick with the scent of his essence. Another brilliant idea reached her, and the look on her face rivaled that of a kid in a candy store.

Kress shuddered as the heel was removed from his face. Just as he was about to blurt out a "Thank you.", a pair of damp, warm, fragrant somethings smothered his face.

Frida smiled ear to ear as she pressed the soles of her feet into Kress' face, clutching her tan pantyhose. His breathing quickened even more, and again his cock swelled.

"You're enjoying this a great deal." commented Frida. Grasping Kress' nose between her toes, she kept the other foot over his mouth, watching as he convulsed with his air restricted. Just before he passed out, she released his nose, keeping his mouth firmly sealed.

The throaty groan that spilled from the bound youth was muffled by Frida's meaty foot as he inhaled her scent. It was so strong, so cloying, so addictive. He wondered how he'd gone through life without it.

Kress shuddered as another orgasm began building. "F-Frida..."

"Not just yet." she replied, surprising even herself with her words...and her next actions. Moving deftly, she tied her pantyhose around the base of Kress' penis, not so tight it would cut off blood flow, but certainly tight enough to stop him from releasing.

"W-What're you doing!?"

"I need to see how this affects you. From the looks of things, a great deal."

He squirmed, aching and desperate, horny beyond belief. "Please, I can't...it's t-to muchmmmph...!"

Frida silenced him by slipping her toes into his mouth. For a foot fetishist like him, it must've been pure heaven...juxtaposed by the sweet hell he had to endure.

"Perhaps if you do something for me, Kress." she spoke, the huskiness of her voice unfamiliar but welcome. "It's been a long day. Busy, hot. And you've no doubt realized I've worked up quite a sweat." Kress nodded, and Friday continued. "If you lick out the sweat from between my toes, I'll grant you release."

She barely had time to react as Kress' tongue slipped between her plump toes. Gasping in shock and arousal, she allowed a moan to pass through her lips, throwing her head back as the heavenly tingle spread up her leg, blossoming throughout the rest of her body. "Dios mio..."

Kress couldn't focus. Not even in the slightest. Pure instinct was driving him, instinct and barely restraint lust. Frida's toes fit perfectly in his mouth, like they were made for him and him alone. Eagerly he lapped, the salty sweat of her feet a delectable ambrosia he'd do anything for even the smallest taste of. His cock throbbed and ached, screaming for release. He could just barely make out Frida's satisfied, erotic moans as he licked, and he felt a swell of pride that he was the one making her sound like that.

When Frida switched feet, Kress was a man possessed, licking like it was the last task he was given on the earth. His tongue felt almost like an entirely separate entity as he licked the spaces between her toes, sucked the plump little digits, nibbled the ball of her foot. All for her--yes, he was hers, her one and only Kress.

Keeping her foot in his mouth, she undid the pantyhose. Cum shot from him like a geyser as he groaned in ecstasy around her toes. The hose was ruined, torn, and stained from Kress' seed. But no matter, she had other pairs.

Kress was nearly catatonic as she undid his restraints, gave him water, and checked his vitals. Astonishingly, he was still healthy, just tired, but less than she would've thought possible. 'His stamina is incredible.' Frida thought as she got dressed.

Silence reigned in the room for a while, neither meeting the other's gaze. Despite her findings and cataloguing, Frida was overcome with embarrassment. She'd let herself act so obscenely, so foolishly, and tried to cover it up in the name of science. And Kress was likely more humiliated than she, having been subjugated to so much mental, physical, emotional, and sexual stimulation.

At least, that's what she thought, until he asked her out on a second date.

"¿Q-Que?" squeaked the Latina. "Are you...are you quite serious?"

"I am. As weird as this all was, it was...incredible. Look at me, I can barely stand. I-In the good way!" He sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Frida, I like you. And I'm not just saying that because of what we just did. You're brilliant. Passionate. Devoted. And it might not be readily apparent to you right now but you're very, very loving. And that side of you towards the end--"

"Where I acted crazy..." she mumbled, face red.

Kress' blush matched her own. "Y-Yeah, well...I wanna see more of that side of you. If you'll let me."

As Frida slipped back into her heels, she caught sight of Kress glancing downward for the briefest moment before his gaze snapped back up to her. Hazel into dark brown.

And smiled.

"I think that can be arranged...dear Kress."