Everything in my life had gone to plan. After college, I’d joined a top marketing firm, quickly climbing the ranks. Within a few years, I had the big corner office, an assistant, a devoted team.  I won awards and was seen as one of the top marketing executives in my field.

And it wasn’t just my work life that went perfectly to plan.  I met an attractive, sweet man who would soon become my husband.  I was the Queen at work, and at home.  He worshipped me, and all my friends were constantly jealous of how in love my husband and I were.

I had it all—the great job, the amazing husband, the hot car, the gorgeous house.  Designer outfits hugged my athletic, slender body.  My golden hair framed my pretty face, and my dazzling blue eyes could hold any man or woman captive.  

But like every perfect fairy tale, mine would soon hit a road bump.

My husband had always loved how successful I was at work, but things were changing.  His career was struggling.  I was making almost all of the money, and he was becoming a house-husband.  It wasn’t good for his ego, and he was beginning to be resentful of me and my success.  We began to argue.  More and more, we’d bicker.  We stopped having sex.  

I sensed that some of my friends were pleased when I announced my husband and I were divorcing.  It was the first time in my life that something hadn’t gone to plan.  I think they liked knowing that I wasn’t perfect after all.  

The weeks after our divorce was tough.  I felt like everyone was talking about me.  Secretly laughing at my ‘perfect’ marriage disintegrating.  

One night, while I sipped a glass of wine, I thought maybe it was time to get away for a bit… clear my head… refocus.

I started browsing possible destinations.  Greece, the Caribbean, Spain.

Eventually, I settled on a destination.  Italy. Beautiful countryside and coasts, amazing cities, divine food, great wine.  Yes—that would be perfect.

I didn’t want a regular hotel for my stay.  I really wanted to get away—somewhere quiet and beautiful where I could be at peace.  And that’s when I saw it!

A gorgeous mansion.  It was owned by an English-speaking Italian woman named Milena, and she rented rooms out to visitors.  I browsed one of the rooms online, loving the big balcony that came off the bedroom overlooking the Italian countryside.  This was the type of place I needed!  

I didn’t hesitate.  Within 45 minutes, my flight was booked and I was booked in for a month-long stay at Melina’s mansion.  I made arrangements with work, and got started on packing my bags. Italy, here I come!  

I flew business class to Italy, enjoying cocktails on the flight, excited for my getaway.  

When I arrived, my driver took my bags, and I breathed in the Italian air, very much looking forward to forgetting about my divorce and enjoying my time off.

The car drove through the hilly countryside, over winding roads, until it came to a stop outside the gorgeous mansion.  The pictures online hadn’t actually done it any justice.  I admired the manicured gardens, the tall white pillars, the huge timber door.

It was breathtaking.  And there, in the doorway, was my host.

She wasn’t what I’d imagined.  There were no pictures of her online, and so I’d imagined an older woman who had perhaps retired to this mansion.

Instead, Melina was young—I guessed right around my age of 30.  She wore a white, flowing dress, her gorgeous olive skin soaking up the Italian sun.  Her dark, wavy hair looked like it belonged in a shampoo advertisement.  

I wasn’t used to the feeling of jealousy.  I was the most beautiful woman in most rooms.  But I found myself making comparisons with Melina.  We were the same height at around 5 foot 5, but Melina’s stunning dark face and flawless skin were matched by breasts much fuller than mine, shapely hips, and powerful, feminine legs.  I was always proud of my clothes, but her white dress was to die for, and my eyes drifted to the Jimmy Choo heels on her feet.  

“They’re not even released yet!” I thought, remembering seeing them in a “coming soon” post online.

Melina was impressive!  

She calmed my envy down, though, with the warmest smile and a cheerful, “Hi, Tanya!  Welcome to my home!”

She spoke perfect English, but with that smooth Italian accent.  It amazed me that someone my age could have a home like this.  I went to shake her hand, but Melina hugged me instead.  Her powerful body pressed into mine as she pulled me in.  

“It’s so nice to have a guest my age,” she said, ushering me into the mansion.  “Usually it’s older couples who stay here.  Not many people our age can afford my rates.  What do you do for work, Tanya?”

As she showed me around the stunning house, I explained that I was a marketing executive and had just finalised my divorce.

“Ah yes, I’ve been there,” Melina said. “That’s how I got this house.  I married a very wealthy man.  When we divorced, I took half of his money and this house.  I’ve been so much happier since then.”

I turned to face her. She certainly LOOKED happy!

“I hope I can be happy one day again, too,” I said softly. “I loved my husband very much.  And unlike you, the divorce wasn’t great for me financially.  I made a lot more money than my husband.  I kept the house… but he got over half of the money.”

Milena nodded. “You obviously still have plenty of money, though, if you could afford to stay here?” 

I sighed.  “I have enough for now!  But clearly not as much as you!”

Milena seemed to like that, smiling, saying, “Well, a girl can never have too much money. That’s why I rent out rooms here in my home.  Nothing makes me happier than watching cash flow into my account.  It’s the best feeling in the world.”

Looking around, I could see Milena was definitely all about her money.  Not only was the house beautiful, the furniture was grand, the artwork was lovely, and on top of her designer dress and Jimmy Choos she wore, Milena had exquisite jewellery.

The tour finished at my bedroom.  It was absolutely beautiful, complete with a marble bathroom with a hot tub, and the sprawling balcony I’d seen on the website.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted after travelling, Tanya.  There’s a bar in that cupboard there—help yourself to a drink and take a soak in the hot tub.  If you need anything, let me know.”

Soon enough, I was sinking down in the hot tub, sipping on a glass of wine. I was going to enjoy it here.  And Milena was amazing!  I wondered if maybe we’d become friends.  

When I rose from the tub, drying myself off, I heard a knock on the bedroom door.  I wrapped a robe around myself, opening the bedroom door.  It was Milena.

“I was thinking, Tanya.  Perhaps tomorrow I can take you out?  Show you around the city?”

I nodded. “That would be amazing, Milena.”

She smiled, turning on her heels.

“Get some rest, Tanya.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watched her strut down the hallway, perfect hips swaying as she moved.  What an incredible woman my host was!  I was excited to get around town tomorrow with my new friend and take in the sights of the city. I lay on the bed.  It was the most comfortable bed I’d ever lain on.  The pillow was heavenly soft, my head sinking into it.  It had a slightly unusual scent that I couldn’t quite figure out… I wasn’t even sure if it was a pleasant scent or not.  But I soon got used to it as my tired eyes closed.  I drifted off to sleep, feeling absolutely at peace, excited about tomorrow!

In the morning, I felt great.  I hadn’t slept that well since before my husband and I started arguing.  I felt refreshed and ready for an amazing day to start my vacation.

I showered, dressed in a summery yellow dress and white wedges, and headed out to the living room.

Milena was dressed and waiting for me.  She wore a short black skirt, those powerful, shapely legs on display.  A pair of black heels actually had her looking an inch or two taller than me.  She wore a tight black top that her incredible breasts seemed to be almost falling out of.  Her skin had that freshly moisturised glow.  

“Ready to go?” she asked warmly.

I was.

It was a fabulous day.  Milena took me to a gorgeous little cafe with the most delicious espresso.  

We went shopping, buying ourselves some new outfits.  Melina spent twice as much as I did!

“Wow, you must have gotten a LOT of money in that divorce,” I laughed.

Milena rolled her eyes.  

“Girl, please.  I long ago spent the last of the money I took from my ex-husband. What I have now is all 100% earned by me.

I was a little confused.  It was expensive to stay at Milena’s mansion… but not expensive enough to give Milena enough money to be buying all these incredible outfits!  

“Oh… what do you do other than host people in your mansion?” I asked.

Milena smiled as she walked.  A mischievous smile.  

“Let's just say most of my guests love being in my home so much that they leave very, very generous tips."

I got the sense Milena didn’t want to divulge her secrets, so I dropped it.  We stopped at a little wine bar for a drink and some lunch, and I noticed that the owner of the wine bar was treating Milena much more nicely than she treated her other customers.  She was an older, heavy-set woman and while she was clearly attentive to Milena, she didn’t look at all happy to see her.  Milena and she spoke in Italian—I had no idea what they were saying.  But the woman looked incredibly nervous around Milena and scurried quickly whenever Milena would ask for something.  

After a while, Milena glanced at the clock.

“We have to go now,” Milena said. “I have a family coming to stay in one of the other rooms shortly, and I need to get their room ready.”

She lifted her hand in the air, snapping her fingers, and the owner came hurriedly to her.  

A string of sharp Italian words came out of Milena’s mouth before she held out her hand to the wine bar owner like a princess.

To my shock, the older woman took Milena’s hand in hers and pressed her lips to it reverently.  

Milena smirked at her, standing, saying, “Let’s go, Tanya.”

“Don’t we need to pay?” I asked as I followed Milena out of the bar.

She giggled, “No.”

As we were driven back toward the mansion, I broached the subject of what I’d just witnessed.

“Milena… What was all that about at the wine bar?”

Looking straight ahead, Milena simply smiled and said, “You’re a very curious woman, Tanya.  We have a whole month together.  Perhaps by the end, you’ll see how I make so much money and why people like the wine bar lady show me such… respect.”

She was very mysterious!  I found myself excited to learn more about this vibrant woman.  I had a feeling we were going to become the very best of friends.

“Make yourself at home,” Milena said when we arrived. “I’ll go get my new guest’s room ready.”

I sat on her big white leather couch… but after a while, I thought maybe I could speed up our growing friendship by giving Milena a hand with the room she was setting up.

I walked down a long hallway, poking my head into door after door until I finally saw Milena.

“Hey.  I thought maybe I could give you some help?” I asked.

The room had a huge King-sized bed in the middle with a smaller bed against the far wall.

“Oh.  It’s almost done,” she said. “Just need to fluff their pillows.”

I looked down at the three pillows lined up on the floor.

The pillow closest to Milena had “daughter” written across it, the one in the middle had “dad,” and the one closest to me said “mum.”

“Oh, that’s a nice touch,” I smiled, loving the little homely feature.  “It’s a family you have coming to stay?”

She nodded, rolling her eyes.  “The Jones family.  Mrs Jones is a stuck-up bitch, and their daughter looks sweet… but I just don’t like her. And they’re very, very rich,” she said.

I went over to help fluff the pillows but stopped in my tracks as I saw Milena fluffing the daughter’s pillow… with her bare feet! 

She moved across to the “Dad” pillow, pressing her toes into it to fluff it up.

And then finally, she moved to the “Mum” pillow.  My jaw fell open as Milena wiped the feet that had been in those black heels all morning all over the pillow.  She stood on it, grinding her feet deeply into it.  

Looking at my shocked face, Milena laughed while she rubbed her feet back and forth on the “Mum” pillow.

“Think wifey will like sleeping amongst my foot sweat tonight?” she giggled. “It’s really a win-win.  I get my feet wiped on this beautiful fabric after walking around in heels all day, and Mrs Jones gets to breathe in my foot sweat all night.  She really should be leaving me the biggest tip for the privilege, don’t you think?”

I was disgusted!  I couldn’t believe this friendly, beautiful, wealthy woman would do such a thing!!  And in front of me, nonetheless.

I turned and walked out of the room.  I marched down the hallway and sat on the big couch, seriously considering packing up my things and getting out of there!  I mean, who DOES something like rubbing their feet on the pillows of their guests??

Milena came into the living room.

“Tanya… when you meet Mrs Jones and her family, you’ll agree with me that she deserves to have her head resting all night in the scent of my feet.  You’ll see.”

I was curious—just like Milena had said back in the car.  I couldn’t imagine that anyone deserved to rent a room and have their pillow stomped all over by their host!  But I wondered if maybe Milena was right.  Maybe Mrs Jones did deserve it.  I decided to wait for the new families' arrival and see for myself.

Within minutes of their arrival, I had forgotten all about how evil Melina was for doing that to their pillows.  Because Mrs Jones was HORRIBLE.

The 40-year-old wife, complete with designer jewellery and a fur coat despite the warm weather, looked Milena up and down, saying to her daughter, “This is our host.  It’s her job to do whatever we want for the next three days while we’re here.”

Her daughter just nodded and put her bags at Milena’s feet, looking at her apologetically.

Mr Jones also seemed embarrassed by the haughty behaviour of his wife, apologising to Milena after his wife brushed past the Italian woman, bumping her with her shoulder.

He took all the bags, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of these.  Thank you for having us."

Milena gave him a warm smile, touching his arm.  I swear the man melted under her light touch and dazzling smile.

“Welcome to my home, Mr Jones,” she purred in that Italian accent of hers.

Once he was gone, Milena looked at me with a “well?” expression on her face.

“Okay, you’re right,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper as I exclaimed, “She’s a BITCH!”

Milena and I giggled.  She poured some wine, and we sat on the couch, thankfully not seeing the Jones family for the rest of the night.  

“Hope she’s enjoying my foot sweat all over her face up there,” Milena chuckled as we finished the bottle of wine.

I giggled, saying, “I’m sure she’d hate it if she knew.  But who cares—she deserves it.”

Milena had her feet curled up underneath her on the couch as she looked at me.

“It’s not so bad anyway,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t think my feet were pretty.”

I gave a drunken giggle, saying, “Milena, they’re feet!  Nobody’s feet are pretty.”

She smiled at me, uncurling her legs.  She pushed her feet along the couch towards me, and pressed her toes to my thigh.

“Well, I agree most people’s feet are gross,” she said, “but mine are different, don’t you think?”

I glanced down at them.  I’d been here just over 24 hours and this was the fourth time I’d found my eyes on Milena’s feet.

First, when I’d first arrived and been jealous of the yet-to-be-released Jimmy Choos she wore.

Second, this morning, when she’d towered over me in those black heels.

Third, when she’d walked all over the Jones’ pillows, wiping her feet clean on the place where Mrs Jones would rest her head.

And now fourth… on the couch with her toes pressed into my thigh.

Milena was impossibly beautiful.  And, as far as feet go, I realised hers were as pretty as feet could be.  That soft Italian skin that glistened and glimmered extended to the tops of her feet.  The white French tips offset her olive complexion.  They were nicely shaped, Milena rotating a foot to show off her high arches.  I guessed they were a size 6, with perfectly shaped toes.  Ugh—was there anything about Milena that wasn’t perfect??

Her voice snapped me out of it.

“What I really need after such a long day is a foot massage,” she said absent-mindedly.

I peeled my eyes off her feet, looking into her eyes.  Melina wore an impish, mischievous smirk.  Surely she didn’t think I found her feet pretty enough to massage them for her??  

I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.  My head was a little fuzzy from all the wine.

“I think I’ll turn in,” I said, Melina giving me a knowing glance and saying, “Okay.  Sweet dreams, Tanya.”

I got myself ready for bed.  It wasn’t until I put my head on my pillow, breathing in that strange scent from last night, that I opened my eyes wide!

Surely not?  Had Milena done to MY pillow what she did with the Jones’ pillows??  Was THAT the scent I couldn’t quite place??  I shook my head.  No—I was being silly.  Milena had only done that to them because of what a nasty bitch Mrs Jones was.  I thought about turning my pillow over, just to be sure.  But I’d slept so well the night before and I was already feeling my eyes closing now.  I breathed in, drifting off into a second straight night of peaceful, restful sleep.

________________________

In the morning, I headed out onto my balcony, just in time to watch Mrs Jones and her daughter disappearing down the long, winding driveway.

I yawned, admiring the stunning view… when I saw motion down below me over to the left.

There was an enormous swimming pool, and the motion I had seen was Milena.

I’d never been interested in women… but Milena was a goddess.  She was wearing a white bikini, sun bouncing off her lovely olive skin.  Her breasts heaved, her toned legs glistening as she lay on a bed by the pool.

“So… now that I’m relaxed, you can go ahead and tell me about your wife’s complaint,” Milena said.

It was unmistakably Mr Jones voice that replied.

“She says there was an unpleasant odour in our room.  She wants me to demand a discount from you,” he said.

I almost giggled, clamping my mouth with my hand.

“And what about you, Mr Jones? Did you find the odour to be unpleasant?”

His voice shook.  “N… no… not uh… not at all.”

She tapped the sunbed with her foot. 

“Come.  Sit by me.  Let’s talk.”

I watched Mr Jones appear, sitting on the foot of the bed.

“Tell me about this odour,” Milena said.

“My, uh… my wife said it was musky,” he stammered, eyes glued to the perfect bikini body on the sunbed.

“And what did you think it smelt like?” she probed.

“I, uh... I’m not sure.  A bit… ummm… I’m not sure…”

Milena had begun to stroke his arm with her toe.

“Perhaps you’d like to breathe in the scent once more… to remind yourself,” she purred.

I watched in absolute astonishment as Milena lifted her leg, grazing Mr Jones’ cheek with her toe.

He was completely under her spell as she slowly traced his cheek, moving it towards his lips, pulling his bottom lip down with it.

“The taste,” she said seductively, “is even better than the smell.”

Within seconds, Mr Jones was wrapping his lips around Milena’s big toe.  I watched in astonishment as her toes rotated through his lips one by one before he began hungrily lapping at her feet, his tongue running from her heel, over her sole, to her toes again and again.

An eternity seemed to pass until I looked up to see Mrs Jones and her daughter walking up the driveway.  Her daughter squealed about something, and Milena smirked, looking down her legs at Mr Jones.

“You’re mine,” she hissed.  “I want quadruple my room rate in my account by the end of the day.  Do we have a deal, or do I need to call your wife?”

He nodded, “I’ll do it.”

Milena giggled.  

“I know.  You’ll do anything I ask.  Starting with… walking over and giving your wife a big passionate kiss.  Right. Now!”

I watched in amazement as he scurried towards the driveway, meeting his wife at the top, giving her a long, deep kiss.  I turned back to Milena… who was staring right up at me!!

I gasped, quickly retreating off the balcony and back into the room.

I didn’t know what to think.  Just who WAS Milena?  She clearly had an evil streak!  Was I even safe here?

As my thoughts rattled around in my head, I started to calm down.  Of course I was safe.  Milena had been nothing but nice to me!  Clearly her evil ways were reserved for bitches like Mrs Jones.  I took a deep breath, moving to the bathroom for a shower.

When I emerged, robe on, I returned to the bedroom to find the bikini-clad Milena sat on the edge of my bed.  

“Well… there you have it, Tanya.  Now you know how I make my money.  Wealthy people come to stay here… and I allow them to worship me.  You saw how willing Mr Jones was.  You’ll be surprised at the number of wealthy men and women that don’t need too much of a push to end up at my feet.”

I had to admit, it was impressive the way Milena had so easily brought Mr Jones under her control.

“I must admit that was pretty amazing,” I said, “but I feel a bit sorry for Mrs Jones.  I mean, I know she’s a bitch… but her husband cheating on her like that is disgusting!”

Milena laughed.

“Oh Tanya, you don’t get it.  But you’ll see.  Mrs Jones will find herself just as entranced by my feet as her husband—and she’ll end up paying me even more than him.”

I thought Milena was crazy!  There was no way an arrogant older woman like Mrs Jones was ever going to submit to Milena’s feet!

“I’ll tell you what,” Milena said.  “Go out today—take in the sights.  Be home around 4pm.  By then, Mr Jones will definitely have transferred the money to my account, and once he has, I’ll set to work on fixing Mrs Jones’ bad attitude.”

I was distracted as I looked around town that day.  I couldn’t take my mind off the sight of Mr Jones so hungrily worshipping Milena’s pretty feet and imagining Mrs Jones joining her husband.

At around 3:30pm, I received a text from Milena.

“Come.  Go straight to the Jones’ guest room.”

I couldn’t get back to the mansion quickly enough.  Surely Milena hadn’t successfully subdued the horrible woman??

As I pushed open the bedroom door, I saw something I would never forget.  

The first thing I noticed was Milena’s white sneakers on the floor.  My eyes then went to Mrs Jones.  She was on her knees next to the bed… her mouth full of one of Milena’s pure white socks.  Her eyes were glazed over and she was… moaning!  

And then there was Milena, sitting on the bed above her.  Her one foot was glistening with moisture, the other being wiped dry with Mrs Jones’ hair.  It was clear that the moisture on Milena’s foot was Mrs Jones’ saliva.

I watched as Milena began to dry her other foot with the woman’s hair before she gracefully dismounted the bed.  She picked up the sock that wasn’t in Mrs Jones mouth, tossing it at her.

“You can keep those as a souvenir,” she giggled, picking up her shoes and saying, “Let’s go, Tanya.”

Apparently, Mr Jones and his daughter had already left the mansion with Mrs Jones to follow them the next morning.  Milena poured us some wine, sat on the couch, and patted the spot next to her.

“I see you have many questions, Tanya.  Come.  Sit.  Ask away.”

My first question was… HOW?

Milena wore a huge smile as she explained it.  Once she had Mr Jones’ money, she continued to relentlessly tease him all afternoon. 

“He just couldn’t resist, even though it was inevitable that wifey would catch him.  There he was, rubbing my feet as she walked in the room.  She went CRAZY!  Of course there was an argument, and she packed their bags to leave.  But before they left, she came to give me a piece of her mind.  I simply told her the truth.  That her husband belonged to my feet now.  And that I’d be in touch with him.  That I'd take him away from her.  That he would soon move to Italy, where he could spend his days tending to my every whim.”

I stared intently at Milena as she finished her story.

“It was all too easy, Tanya.  First she ordered me to stay away from him.  Then, seeing that I fully intended to follow through with my threat, she began to beg.  I told her that I’d leave him alone… if only she would give me a foot massage.”

“And she did it?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh yes.  Just like I told you, I knew she would.  And I knew that once she did, she’d never be the same again.  By the time I was done with her… well… you saw what happened.”

My next question was whether she paid Milena, like Milena had suggested she would.

Milena nodded.  “Their daughter’s trust fund should keep my luxurious lifestyle ticking along nicely for a while.  I know you feel bad for them, Tanya.  But they deserve it.  You saw how arrogant she was.  How much of a horrible brat her daughter was.  How easily he cheated on his wife.  They’re despicable people.  Yes, you may say their daughter hasn’t done anything bad, but I just don’t like her, and I have a sure feeling that her money is better suited to being in my account.”

I had to admit, the way Milena explained it, it made sense.

But I had another question.

“Do you do this with all your guests?”

Milena looked thoughtful for a second.  “Not all of them.  But a lot of them, yes.”

My mind went to that scent on my pillow.

“Milena… did you plan the same fate for me?  I mean… my pillow…”

Milena studied me for a moment.  

“Don’t be silly, Tanya.  You and I are friends.  Besides, unlike Mr and Mrs Jones, you think feet are gross.  Don’t you?”

I quickly nodded, Milena topping up our wine glasses.  The subject changed to my day in the town, and after a few more drinks, I was ready for bed.

“Let’s go shopping again tomorrow,” she said. “I have new funds to spend!” 

_________________________

I couldn’t keep up with Milena’s shopping!

I’d always been wealthy, but the divorce had really limited my spending money… while Milena seemed to have an endless bank account.  I was quite jealous watching her buy whatever she set her eyes on.

We went into this gorgeous little Italian shop where I did find something I wanted to buy.  It was a lovely sundress, and I just knew it would look perfect on me.  Milena agreed, so in amongst the racks of clothing, I pulled out my purse to make sure I had enough for the dress.

The Euro money was still confusing to me, so I fumbled with my purse as I tried to count the notes out… dropping my cash all over the floor.

“Dammit,” I breathed as I knelt down to collect the money.

As I wrapped my fingers around one of the notes, Milena’s strappy sandal appeared in my vision… and as a breeze blew through the store, the trapped one of the notes under her foot.

I reached over to grab it, Milena lifting her sandal to allow me to pick it up.  But as my fingers wrapped around the note, Milena firmly placed the sole of her sandal right onto the top of my hand, trapping it between the sandal and the note.

My eyes fixated on the pretty olive foot.  The white straps of her sandals accentuated the flawless dark skin, those white tips of her nails adding to the contrast.  Being this close to her foot, I recognised the scent.  Not unpleasant… but a certain fragrance that was hard to describe… like a combination of light musk and sweetness. Melina HAD rubbed her feet all over my pillow before I’d arrived! 

...

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