Description
Truth or Dare
Story
12:15 PM
It was another typical day on campus for Stella. She had finished her morning classes, giving her a two-hour break before her brief afternoon session began. With her stomach rumbling and a craving for American comfort food, she met up with her friend and classmate, Michael—a human male—to grab lunch at a familiar spot: a cozy, retro diner located just off campus.
“So, what’re you in the mood for?” Stella asked, her usual friendly smile lighting up her face as her striped tail swished lazily behind her. A cool breeze swept past them, ruffling her fur, hair, and her clothing.
“Honestly?” Michael began, his hands tucked into the pockets of his university hoodie. “Burger and fries. I know I get the same thing every time, but class always gets me in the mood for junk food. What about you?”
“Mmm…” Stella tapped her chin theatrically. “Chicken tenders. Definitely with fries. Aaand maybe a milkshake! You know me—I need something sweet to go with my meal.” She flashed a toothy grin, her sharp, pearly white canines glinting briefly in the afternoon sun. “I wouldn’t turn down some ice cream after either!”
Their usual lighthearted conversation carried them to the diner’s entrance, where the tantalizing aroma of sizzling burgers and greasy comfort food greeted them. Inside, the retro decor of red vinyl booths and checkered floors evoked nostalgia of an era since passed, while the background hum of chatter and the soft music from a digital jukebox melded with the clink of cutlery. The diner wasn’t packed just yet when they entered, but a decent enough number of patrons were already seated, enjoying their meals.
“God, it always smells amazing in here,” Stella commented, her ears flicking as she scanned the room. Her nose twitched, and she let out a satisfied sigh. “Juust what I need after class.” Beside her, Michael gave an affirmative nod, his expression visibly brightening at the setting before them.
Moments later, they were shown to a booth by the window. The red vinyl of the seat gave a faint squeak as Stella slid in, her athletic form settling in atop the cushy surface. Across from her, Michael plopped down and grabbed a menu, scanning it with the intensity of someone pretending like they hadn’t already made up their mind.
Stella leaned back, picking up her own menu but glancing at her friend instead. “So, how’s your week been? Any new drama in psych?” While she was a graduate student working on earning her master’s degree, Michael was still working on fulfilling his last graduation requirements for his final year of undergraduate studies.
At the mention of his class, Michael groaned and set the menu down, a frown deepening the moment it appeared on his face. “Dude, Professor Johnson assigned us a twenty-page essay. Twenty goddamn pages! And you know what? No guidelines. Just ‘figure it out yourselves by the end of the semester.’ I swear he gets off on his students’ pain and suffering or something. If I knew that his class would have sucked so much, I would have put in a request to take the summer session with Professor West.”
Stella laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, I remember those. Absolute torture! Switching out of that class was the smartest decision I made during my underclassman years. Bet you can’t wait to get it over with, huh, Mr. Psych Major?”
“No kidding,” Michael sighed, slumping slightly in his seat. “Bet you don’t miss those late-night coffee runs trying to churn those things out.”
“Not even a little,” Stella replied with a playful smirk. “Though I do enjoy watching you panic about it. That’s always entertaining.”
Michael shot her a mock glare. “You’re cruel, you know that?”
“Only a little,” she teased, sticking out her tongue. “I’ll stop when you start grad school and share my level of pain.”
Their casual banter carried on for a while longer. Too long, in fact, as no one came to take their order or even bring water. Stella glanced around, her keen eyes landing on the lone waitress juggling orders for a large group. Her brows furrowed slightly at the sight.
“Geez, poor girl. Is she seriously the only waitress working right now?” she muttered sympathetically, her ears tilting back. Having worked in a restaurant setting before, the young tigress was fully aware of how stressful working while being understaffed could be.
Michael followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Looks like she’s running the whole front of the house. Who the hell only staffs one waitress at a city diner? The lunch rush is about to hit.”
Stella sighed. “You’d be surprised. It happens more often than you’d think.”
“Well… we’ve got time to kill until she gets to us," Michael remarked, his eyes darting briefly to the waitress still scrambling to keep up. He drummed his fingers on the table, glancing out the window at the growing line of patrons waiting to be seated. His gaze shifted back to Stella, who was idly flicking her tail against the booth’s cushion, her attention momentarily focused on the menu. He could see the sunlight catching the soft orange-and-white hues of her fur that were accented by her inky stripes, the relaxed sway of her ears, and the subtle curve of her smile. It was moments like these—ordinary, completely unguarded—that he found the most captivating. Michael’s lips quirked into a mischievous grin as an idea struck him. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.
"Wanna do something to pass the time?” He asked in a casual tone.
Stella perked up, her ears flicking forward. “Ooh, like what? I’m open to suggestions.”
Leaning forward, Michael’s grin widened. “Truth or dare. Loser buys lunch.”
“Oh, you are so on!” Stella’s tail flicked against the seat behind her, excitement lighting up her face. “And just so you know, I don’t plan on being the one paying.”
Michael smirked. “We’ll see about that. Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Stella answered confidently, starting the game off strong, as she always liked to do.
“I dare you to…” Michael paused, his heart racing slightly as he considered his next words. This was something he’d imagined doing for a while now, but he had always brushed the thought aside as too ridiculous. Yet here he was, the perfect opportunity presenting itself. His mind wandered briefly to their usual dynamic, with Stella’s confidence and playfulness often catching him off guard, yet somehow putting him at ease. A part of him couldn’t shake the memory of her frequent habit in class: slipping off her sandals, her clawed toes curling and stretching beneath the desk, completely at ease. He swallowed hard, trying to appear casual despite the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.
“Take off your sandals, put your feet up on the table, and wiggle your toes.”
Stella blinked, caught off guard for just a moment, and then burst out laughing. “That’s it? Easy.”
“Oh, really? Prove it,” Michael challenged, leaning back in his seat with an air of feigned confidence. He tried to mask his excitement behind a smug expression, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. This was something he had thought about for months, and now, he couldn’t believe he was actually saying it out loud. Stealing occasional glances down at her feet was one thing, but getting to see them up close was something else entirely. Despite his attempt to act casual, his gaze flicked to her sandaled paws, anticipation bubbling beneath the surface. He hadn’t expected her to actually go through with it, especially in a public setting as more customers trickled in for lunch.
“Gladly.” Stella reached down and undid the straps of her sandals, sliding them off with practiced ease. She brushed her hand lightly over her soles, ensuring that they were clean of any dust or dirt. Her fingers glided over the white fur, pausing briefly to gently rub at her toe pads, as though making sure they were pristine. Once satisfied, she wiggled her toes experimentally, her soft pads flexing as she lifted her legs. Her heels landed on the table with a soft thump, the silky smooth, orange-and-white fur contrasting nicely against the polished surface.
Stella steadied her paws with both hands, her fingers lightly pressing into the plush fur on both sides of her feet. Her thumbs traced the curve of her arches as if framing her pads before she leaned forward slightly, holding them perfectly still for a moment. Then, with a teasing grin, she let her toes spread wide, curling and flexing them dramatically for full effect. "There," she teased, her voice carrying a playful lilt. "Happy? Now I’m barefoot, wiggling my toes in public like a maniac."
Michael’s face flushed as he tried—and utterly failed—not to stare. The way her toes flexed, their expertly pedicured claws gleaming in the light, and the subtle creases of her pads caught his attention in a way that left him momentarily speechless. Her paw pads, immaculate and velvety-soft in appearance, seemed almost unreal—completely free of any callouses or imperfections. They looked so smooth and plush that he could practically imagine how their gentle texture would feel against his skin. “I, uh…”
Stella chuckled, her tail swishing behind her in amusement. "What’s the matter? You dared me, didn’t you?" She shifted her position slightly, pressing one paw flat against the table, letting him get a look at its striped top. As she began tapping her blue claws lightly against the surface, the faint clicks drew his attention to her perfect toes. "Honestly, this is tame compared to some dares I’ve had. I don’t know why you thought I wouldn’t do it. I mean, you’ve seen me kick off my sandals in class all the time. Unless..."
With a sly grin, Stella leaned forward, lifting one paw to her face. Holding it steady with both hands, her fingers lightly traced the delicate curve of her arch, and her thumb pressed gently into the soft fur beneath. She tilted her head slightly, bringing her nose close as her toes gave a slow, gentle splay. Leaning in, she took a deep, deliberate sniff, her muzzle twitching ever so slightly as her own scent filled her senses. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with a knowing look, and a faint, satisfied hum escaped her lips. "You know," she added with a teasing grin, her fingers momentarily brushing over the plush pad on the ball of her foot, "I bet they’d feel even better than they smell."
Without warning, Stella shifted her paw slightly and leaned in again. She scrunched up her toes deliberately, making her sole wrinkle and deepening the soft grooves along her arch. Her fingers traced the newly formed lines as if admiring the detail, and then she leaned closer. She pressed a soft, deliberate kiss against her arch, her lips brushing over the textured surface with a delicate tenderness just enough to leave a faint impression in the white fur. Afterward, she adjusted her position slightly, bringing her toes closer to her lips. With a playful hum, she placed another soft kiss directly on her toes, letting them curl lightly against her lips as if responding to the affectionate gesture. Her sapphire eyes flicked up to Michael as she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "Not bad," she mused, her voice playful and light. "All those pedicures and lotions really pay off. Smooth, soft, and just a hint of jasmine."
Michael’s jaw dropped as he stared, utterly dumbfounded. “W-why are you-”
“Teasing?” Stella finished for him, lowering her paw back to the table and flexing her toes dramatically. “Because you made it too easy.” Her tone was light, but her grin was anything but, her piercing gaze locking onto his flustered expression. “You dared me, Michael. This is all on you.”
Her smirk deepened as she reclined slightly, grinning slyly at her human friend. “You weren’t exactly subtle about this, were you? I could practically see you trying to hide your excitement when you came up with your dare.” She leaned forward just enough to make him squirm, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Just how long have you been waiting to use that one on me, huh?"
Busted…
“Oh, and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little foot fetish either,” she continued, her voice dripping with playful accusation. “Every time I took my sandals off in class, I’d catch you sneaking glances. You’ve got a tell, you know. The way your ears turn red and you pretend to focus really intently on your notebook that just so happens to be halfway over the edge of your desk? It’s actually kind of adorable, really.”
Stella shifted slightly in her seat, lifting one paw once more and holding it up as if casually inspecting it. Her fingers brushed over the smooth tops of her toes, and her claws caught the light as she gave them a mock-appraising glance. Then, with a gentle motion, she used one hand to flex her toes back, exposing the full length of her sharp claws. Her other hand delicately traced over them, as if ensuring her pedicure was still perfect. The motion was simple, yet deliberate enough to hold Michael’s gaze, making it clear she was fully aware of her effect on him. She flexed her toes once more, this time splaying them wide to expose the spaces in between, the motion drawing deep ripples through the fur. Stella’s smirk widened ever so slightly, the glimmer in her eyes making it clear she knew Michael couldn’t look away. "Can’t blame you, though," she added, her tone still teasing but softer now, "they [i[are[/i] pretty nice, aren’t they?"
Michael’s mouth opened and closed multiple times as if struggling to form a coherent response, his face literally glowing red with embarrassment. Stella chuckled, her tail swishing with triumph. “Relax, I don't mind.”
She shifted in her seat, sliding one paw toward him, her toes curling and uncurling as if beckoning him closer. Her plush pads and gleaming blue claws were as mesmerizing to him as the most stunning of jewels. There was no indication given by the tigress that she thought of her paws as anything else but perfect… not that she was wrong to think so. The tigress had perfect paws, and she knew that she had perfect paws. Her fingers lightly brushed over them, and she let out a playful hum as if to emphasize just how warm and inviting they were. "They're so soft~"
“You know,” she began, her voice dropping to a teasing purr as she began tracing her fingers up and down her arch, “You could have just asked me if you wanted to see them up-close like this. But I get it. It's an odd ask of a person you just became friends with this semester.” Her words were entirely playful, the tilt of her head and flick of her tail making it clear she was simply having fun with him, not actually trying to embarrass him too much.
Michael’s blush deepened as he tried to focus on anything but the tigress’s teasing antics. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Impossible? Nah,” Stella replied with a playful laugh. “Just confident. I know I have nice feet. Trust me, Michael. You're not the first one I've caught gawking at my girls. But hey, I’ll make you a deal. Buy me dessert, and maybe I’ll let you give them a little massage. I mean, all this wiggling is tiring, you know.”
Before Michael could respond, the waitress finally approached, her notebook in hand and a warm, practiced smile on her face as she began her usual routine. “Hi there! Welcome to-” Her words faltered mid-sentence as her eyes landed on the scene in front of her. Stella’s bare paws rested on the table, her toes still splayed wide as the tigress glanced at Michael with an amused grin. The waitress’s smile froze for a moment, her professional demeanor visibly shaken. Her gaze flicked to Stella’s paws, then to Stella’s face, and then back to Michael, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her grip on her notepad tightened slightly, and she opened her mouth as if to continue speaking, but no words came out immediately.
“Uh… hi,” she finally managed, her voice faltering. Clearing her throat, she glanced back down at her notepad, clearly trying to regain her composure. “I… uh… I’ll give you two a few more minutes to look over the menu,” she said hastily, her words spilling out in a rush before she turned and hurried away, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment and second hand awkwardness.
As the waitress disappeared, Michael couldn’t help but notice a pair of anthro customers at the booth behind them glancing over their shoulders. Their expressions were a mix of amusement and curiosity, and one of them whispered something to the other before they both turned back to their meals, clearly trying not to stare. In turn, he let out a quiet groan and seemed to shrink back into his seat, very much not used to so many eyes on him in such an intimate situation.
Stella’s grin widened as she leaned back, her tail flicking lazily against the seat. “Looks like I win,” she declared, putting her feet down and sliding her sandals back on. She left the straps off, however. “Told you I wouldn’t be the one paying.”
“Wait, what?” Michael protested, suddenly sitting upright with a frown. “That’s not fair! I didn’t even get my turn yet!”
Stella shrugged, her playful grin never faltering. “Rules are rules, buddy. The game’s over because, well…” She gestured vaguely around the diner. “We actually have to order now. I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”
Michael groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re being seriously ridiculous right now.”
“Ridiculously charming,” she corrected, her tone dripping with mock, playful arrogance. “Now, let’s actually be ready to order before she comes back."
Her grin widened as she leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her palm. “Oh, and don’t forget about my offer... Dessert for a chance to give my paws some love."
"How about it?”
qoobdoob
MemberI don't know what I like better, the artwork or the accompanying story!
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