"Freeze, Lawrence" Part II

By NomadSole

"...feet", whispered Larry.
There was something abnormal about Larry. It was not sick or disgusting. It was, perhaps, a bit unusual. A little quirk.
"...feet..."
It started in his early childhood. It all appeared quite natural to him, and he saw nothing strange in it. He quite enjoyed it, as it brought him loads of fun when he was left alone, and nobody could see him. And that happened quite often.
"...feet..."
Yes, my reader, you're right in thinking that it had to do with lust and desire. Yes indeed.
"...feet..."
Yes, you guessed it! Larry saw ghosts! All kinds of ghosts. Tormented and chained ghosts trespassing the long corridors of his family mansion. Various spirits of nature. He made imaginary friends with reflexes in his wardrobe's window-pane. He heard strange voices.
"...feet..."
And they all were unlike the traditional ghosts, banshees and imaginary friends. They didn't come to stalk and torment Larry. All they wanted was sexual pleasure. The strange voices Larry heard sometimes insisted "Call me! Call me now! I need you! Dial..." His imaginary friend from the other side of the wardrobe's window-pane demanded wet kisses. Hence the constant thirst that Larry experienced; and his marathons to the toilet and back, to get some wet cloth to wash the galons of saliva off the glass surface. Similarly with ghosts.
"...feet..."
His mother never knew. But, she suspected Larry was not normal, just like his father was. So, with the father away, locked up in madmen's asylum, Larry inherited all the love that the mother had. This love was stranger than the kind of love that Larry felt.
"...feet..."
Which is foot-love.
"...feet..."
Larry was a medium and a foot-fetish.


***


"I guess there's no other way. I can't just stand still and look at him doing all the strange things. You have to cure him out of this, just like you cured my husband, doctor"
The hunched persona, dressed in white, wearing a monocle, looked up at the tall, twig-like Mrs Freeze.
"Erm, Madam, may I remind you, that your dear husband committed suicide..."
The woman - a miserable twig with hair resembling a dull, dark-blonde tree-top - looked back at the dwarf, piercing him with ice-cold glance.
"Indeed", she said. "The good thing is that at least nothing worse can befall my only son..."
"Indeed", the troll looked at his feet, saying this.
"So, I leave you with my son, and with an order: cure him out of it, whatever that is. Now, I shall be off, I have some knitting to do"
With this, Mrs Freeze turned around and, noiselessly, left the midget's office. There was something terrifying about that woman. Something unhuman. Something... floral. Yes, the unusual peacefullness. She seemed sober, and so quiet. Quiet like a Drosera - you just never know when she's gonna clasp her teeth around your head and, in the very same position, chew your brain out - regardless how much time that would take.
This fearful encounter caused the little hunchbacked medic to shiver. He concluded he needs some special care and attention.
"Sister Amelia, please come to my office", he yelled.
"What is it, Dr Freud?"
"How many times do I have to tell you, Sister Amelia. It's FROYD!"
"Wasn't that exactly what I said. Dr Freud?"
"Yes indeed, Sister Amelia, it sounds perfectly correct, but I can see your spelling it all wrong!"
"Oh!"
"Yes, and such mistakes prove some mental disorders"
"Oh I can't think of any", Sister Amelia said, combing her metre-long blond hair. "And besides, why would hire someone retarded, right?"
"Yes indeed", said Dr Froyd, trying to look in Amelia's beautiful blue eyes, but her ample breasts obscured the view. "I value you, Sister Amelia, as a great specialist, in... um..."
"Thank you, Dr Freud! >>Um<< has always been my speciality" Sister Amelia smiled proudly.
"Oh right, I just remember. Our linguistic and professional disputes weren't what I called you here for"
"What was, then?"
"Scratch me behind the ear"
"Isn't that... that... you know..." Sister Amelia was desperate, as she lacked words.
"Sexual harrasment? Noooo!"
"Good!"
"Sexual harrasment was what we did yesterday."
"Oh, THAT! You should've told me. I'd protest!"
"Sister Amelia, it's 1827! Nobody has heard of Women's Rights yet!"
"Oh ok then! Anyway, it was fun!"
"Ooooh yes! But... let's get down to work. How is our new patient doing?"
"The young lad?"
"Yes" Dr Froyd looked in the patient's chart. "Freeze, Lawrence, aged 17"
"He's still unconscious"
"Still repeating that one word?"
"Yes"
"Please give him sal volatile and bring him to me"
"Yes Dr Freud"
As the nurse left, swinging her round buttocks in a hypnotizing way, Dr Froyd wispered to himself.
"Ah, Amelia, how much I value you for your experience"


***


"Hello there, lad! How is our young patient today", asked Dr Froyd cheerfully.
"How do you do sir nice to meet you fine thank you very much", replied Larry, in a blank tone. His face had no particular expression, and certainly not joy.
The doctor concluded, he must enliven the zombie boy.
"SO! FREEZE! LAWRENCE, RIGHT?"
Larry stopped, and looked bluntly at the doctor.
"Yes..."
"So, my lad, here we are going to cure you of your little disease"
"So you know about my seeing ghosts?"
"N... I mean, yes yes of course I know. But that's not my point"
"You can't cure me out of it"
"Yes I'm not even going to try. My focus will be your gross foot-fetish"
"Where do you know THAT from? Who told you? Where did you hear that?"
Like a thousand times, from Larry's own lips.
"Oh I deduced that from your handwriting"
"But you don't know my handwriting". Larry frowned, surprized.
"Here. Write your name here."
"Done!"
"See, it's all here! Your foot-fetish strikes my eyes! See the curves and the lines? I see toes and arches everywhere"
"That means", Larry said, "that YOU have a foot-fetish!"
"No, Lawrence. I see toes and arches because I try to think like a fetishist..."
"But that's BIAS! You see toes and arches because You want to see them!"
"Ok then, I see You're very stubborn. I'm going to have to prove it to you some other way. How about some Roschach's tests?"
Dr Froyd took from his drawer several sheets of paper, with large black blobs on it.
"Now, Lawrence, tell me what you see! Your first impression"
Saying this, Dr Froyd raised a sheet on which there were two black foot-prints.
"Um... Feet..."
"Good"
Then there was another. Five dots: fours smaller, and one bigger, and oval.
"Um... Toes..."
"You see feet EVERYWHERE! You're a foot-fetish!"
"No I'm not"
"You are!"
"Am not!"
"You ARE"
"Am NOT! Um... Could you please hand me the one with two foot-prints again, it looked nice"
"Here you go, lad", said doctor, in a suspiciously pleasant tone. Larry watched the black footprints, and didn't notice Dr Froyd's evil grin.
"OUCH!!! What was that for?"
"That's my invention"
"Oh yeah a slap in the face when I'm not looking is SOME invention"
"No it's a means to achieve some effect, and that is what's unprecedential here. I called it 'conditioning', and it's supposed to cure you of your fetish through making you hate feet. So, when you watch this, I slap you in the face, and as a result, you start hating feet, because you start associating feet with painful slaps in the face!"
"In fact, I start hating you, Dr..."
"Froyd"
"...Freud..."
"So, maybe I should slap you harder... I wonder what your reaction would be then"
"I'd hit back" 
"Then I'll have to think of some other method... Now, Sister Amelia will take you back to your chamber"


***


"Sister Amelia, bring our young patient to me!"
In some two minutes, Lawrence was brought into Dr Froyd's office.
"Lad, I have a new brilliant method!"
"Woohooo... Are you going to kick me in the crotch now?"
"No no no, I'm not going to use violence any more. I'm going to use a method that helped my father in curing me of my pipe-smoking habit! He told me to smoke until I start vomiting. It took some considerable amount of time, but I was cured, and never smoked a pipe again. And so will you... I mean, after intense exposure to feet, you'll hate them dearly!"
Lawrence hid his face in his hands to hide his joyful smile, and to pretend despair at the same time.
"Ha-HA!", Dr Froyd exclaimed. "Sister Amelia, could you come here?"
"Yes Dr Freud, what is it? Do youwant some sexual harras... I mean, scratching behind the ear again?"
"No, Amelia... I wanted to ask you, when was the last time you washed your feet"
"Um... I guess that would be... three days ago... I concluded they will get dirty anyway, so why wash them!"
Lawrence looked at Sister Amelia with a mixture of astonishment and pure adoration.
"Good", Dr Froyd said, with a wide smile. "Please seat yourself comfortably and take off your shoes. You, Lawrence, please assume horizontal position, convenient for Sister Amelia"
"Oh this is so cruel...", muttered Larry, barely managing to keep a straight face.
"Yes, that ought to teach you!"
Larry laid down at Sister Amelia's feet. Her vinegar-scented sweet size 7's were on both sides of his head.
"Now, Sister Amelia, place your stinky toes on the patient's nose"
So she did. She raised her lovable footsies up and dangled them indecisively for a few seconds, and then pushed them in his nose.
"Dr Freud, isn't that...?"
"No, it's not sexual harrasment. Continue. And you, Lawrence, inhale! Sniff those stinky feet. I wanna hear you choke and moan with disgust!"
Lawrence inhaled and exhaled like a madman. As the smell penetrated his lungs and mind, he thought: God bless Holland and France! Sister Amelia's lovable toes were the finest of all cheese in the world.
"Ok Sister Amelia, please cease this! And you, Lawrence, do you hate feet now?"
"No, not really!"
"We therefore have to INTENSIFY the experience of Sister Amelia's stinky feet! You have to lick Sister Amelia's feet untill they're clean and shiny! That'll teach You!
Larry poked his tongue out and slid it up and down Sister Amelia's sole, causing her to giggle.
"Sister Amelia, please be quiet! This is a serious scientific experiment! And you, my boy, lick them! Yeah, that's the way! Up and down! Take the whole heel in your mouth and wash it, babe! Yeah! Now lick the sole until it drips with your saliva! Now lick your saliva off, and lick it clean! Yeah baby yeah!"
Larry swallowed almost the whole heel and chewed on it, and licked it, and nibbled it gently. Then his tongue made a luscious slalom down her instep, and then back on top of the steep, arched slope of desire, to the soft ball. Here, he gave her foot another lustful bath of all saliva that he had.
"No no no this STILL isn't working! I have to think of something more brital and more gross! I GOT IT! EAT THE FOOT-JAM FROM BETWEEN HER TOES AND SUCK ON THE TOES. Sister Amelia, please locate your toe in the patient's oral cavity!"
The blonde, drop-dead-gorgeous nurse stuck her big toe in Larry's mouth.
"Yeah baby", exclaimed Dr Froyd. "Yeah that's right. Now put the other toes in his mouth. Yeah, and the next one. Now, push them all in! Yeah that's right!"
Again, Larry's swift tongue made a wild slalom, collecting foot-gunk at each checkpoint.
"Now, swallow!"
Larry obediently swallowed the nectar of filthy desire.
"And?", Dr Froyd asked, with a wide grin.
"Doesn't work, doctor..."
"Hm you're a very troublesome patient, Lawrence! What is there that will make you vomit..."
Dr Froyd walked around the room, wondering; meanwhile, Larry, enjoyed Sister Amelia's toes. He nibbled on them, paying little attention to what Dr Froyd says. As to Amelia, she seemed deeply confused by the situation, but beneath the mask of puzzlement and natural stupidity, she must have enjoyed it. When Larry stopped for a second, she pushed her big toe right back in his mouth and pulled and pushed repeatingly, faster and faster.
"I GOT IT! EUREKA! The fastest way to make you throw up would be making you eat! And, to make you hate feet, I'll put the food on Sister Amelia's feet! What do you say?"
Larry knew how to make the doctor's ideas work for his own pleasure.
"Nasty!", he said.
"Brilliant! What would you HATE the most?"
He knew...
"Umm... Strawberry jam and whipped cream! Oh yeah that will kill me!"
"Splendid!"
Within minutes, a sweet stream of strawberry jam poured down Sister Amelia's feet, onto Lary's face. Then, whipped cream.
"Eat, boy! One toe for papa, one toe for mama, one toe for dada...!"
Larry swallowed each toe, starting from the baby toe, finishing with the big toe. Then, he repeated the whole process, to make sure EVERYTHING is clean. He licked the pink delight off her soles, and swallowed, licking his lips, and at the same time her soles. Then he let the rest, on her heels, drip down, and into his mouth.
"Umm... Ooomph! Bleh!"
Larry jumped up and ran out of the office. Dr Froyd yelled after him:
"The toilet is on the...!!!"
"Mwoooorragha! Ooooghlafrrooagh!"
"Sister Amelia, would you be so kind as to clean up all the vomit"
"Lallala-lala-la", hummed Sister Amelia, who learned to really enjoy her feet being worshipped.
"SISTER AMELIA!"


***


"Hello again, Lawrence! How are we today?"
"Fine, doctor! You take such good care of me!"
"Yes yes! And how about feet? Do you hate them now, after yesterday's experience?"
"I'm afraid not, doctor! In spite of all your efforts, I still love feet"
"Hm, maybe Sister Brunhilda will help you!"
"But Sister Amelia did her job well, and I'm sure that with a little more work, we'd make progress soon!"
"Sadly, Sister Amelia left our asylum..."
She concluded that cleaning up vomit was more than she could take. She could stand scratching an old dwarf behind the ear, having hot strawberry on her feet, but vomit was more than she could take.
"Oh...", Larry whispered sadly.
"Meet Sister Brunhilda!"
A cannon-ball roughly resembling human rolled into the office. Larry thought to himself: God I hope cannon-balls have no feet!


*to be continued*