Chapter 19: 19. I’m Not Going to Drop the Foot Thing

“Vorelando, we need to talk.”

Vorelando felt betrayed. Walking into the campus café, he had been expecting to see Kobe, who had texted him earlier telling him to meet him there.

Instead, sat in the corner, was Cayenne Peppers. She was wearing a much more comprehensive outfit than usual. Always one for jean shorts and little else, today she was covered head to knee in fabric, with everything below hidden behind fashionable leather boots.

This didn’t stop those who populated the café from leering at her of course. The eye fucking being performed was equally intense across the gender spectrum.

“Cayenne. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Sit down Vorelando.” She patted the chair beside her. Vorelando obliged.

“You’re looking particularly ominous today Yen, what’s with all the clothes?”

Cayenne frowned at Vorelando. He should know why.

“I wanted to wear sandals Vo but I couldn’t.”

“Why not, it’s a great day for it.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable showing my feet around you anymore Vorelando.”

Of course, it was about that. Overnight Vorelando had become one of the hottest properties in vore for all the wrong reasons. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to live it down.

“You really have to come all this way just to shame me?”

“Your mother sent me, she’s worried, we’re all worried.”

“What is there to be worried about, am I not allowed to have a preference or two?”

Cayenne looked at him sternly.

“Preferences are all well and good Vorelando but you have to see that what you did wasn’t normal.”

“What’s normal in this world? Who decides that? I eat people as an occupation, what’s wrong with liking some clean feet?”

“It’s not about you liking them, it’s the sheer passion with which you described your preference… it seems unhealthy…”

“I’m sorry, but they were asking me to explain my passion for vore. I heard the shit the big-name recruits said. You merely adopted the vore. I was born in it, moulded by it. I heard Vorealis say that just yesterday, how is that more acceptable than what I said?”

“It’s a vore-based economy Vorelando, that’s just the way it is.”

Vorelando’s fury grew. He knew that the world revolved around vore, he hated that fact. And he wasn’t about to have his sense of self be replaced by it, to be trampled by what was acceptable.

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“It should be a foot-based economy.”

Everyone in the café turned around and stared at him.

“Vorelando, please! Not so loud!”

“No, fuck that. I ain’t shutting up for nobody! You’ve all got feet, fucking hide them if you’re so embarrassed.”

A few of the patrons of the café did hide their feet.

“That’s right motherfuckers, you can’t handle the feet!”

By now Vorelando was up on the table, people were cowering in fear. Below him, Cayenne Peppers was crying.

“Vorelando stop! This isn’t who you are!”

Vorelando stared down at her with a crazed look in his eyes. She had only seen this once before, when he had defeated Clark Eaton. It had scared her then and it scared her now.

“I belong to the feet Cayenne, it’s a perfectly legitimate fetish.”

“Vorelando please, stop trying to justify this foot fetish thing and admit you need help!”

A silence hung over the café, everyone held their breath. They sensed that Cayenne Peppers had just made a massive mistake.

Vorelando landed with an almighty thud as he leapt off the table. At the same time, Cayenne jumped out of her seat and Vorelando backed her up against the wall.

“Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much foot fetish art I commission in a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop commissioning those artists? An industry big enough that it dwarfs the GDP of several developed nations goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist, without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I don’t need help, Cayenne. I am the help! I will change this God voresaken world with the power of feet!”

Cayenne, stood in a moment of shock. She felt Vorelando’s rage hitting her skin. In another moment of madness, she slapped him across the face.

He vored her whole in response, instinctively. Everyone in the café started crying, calling their loved ones on their phone.

Vorelando looked around and saw the mess that Cayenne had gotten him into. He was pissed.

He took some coins out of his pocket and slammed them down on the table.

“Keep the change!”

With that remark, Vorelando slowly exited the café, leaving another PR disaster in his wake.

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