Just popping away from posting Temptations for this week in order to post this RP between myself and Gasman of the Garden…
It’s not quite clear at the beginning what Sindy is, she is called Cindy at the beginning of the RP and if it had gone on long enough it would have changed over time to reflect that which she is… or should have been…
If you have access to the Hypno-Pics Collective, you can see the image of Sindy that started the idea of the RP in my folder in the RP Section there…
By TeraS and Gasman
On a road somewhere in the world a little quaint ice cream shack sits beside the road…
You’ve been driving now for hours, the road quiet as you drove, the only thing that seemed to catch your attention was the series of ice cream signs along the road that kept counting down the miles under your wheels until as you crested a hill, the shop that owned those signs peeked into view…
It’s been a long hot drive and the idea of an ice cream tugs at your mind and so you decide to take the time and make a stop…
You pull into the parking lot and see that the place has a sign on top of it that you can’t quite make out the name of due to the sun glinting off of it… It looks very clean. Well maintained and bright… Little pictures and metal signs of various ice cream treats… It’s obviously an ice cream shop isn’t it?
Taking the three steps to the front door you notice a little sign that says, Open 24/7. Just ring the bell on the way in!. You open the door and as you do, you hear a rattle of a bell above the door, but it doesn’t quite ring clearly within…
Looking inside you see a series of wooden chairs around several tables, a serving counter against the far wall, menus above it, A pair of coolers to your right with cold drinks, a slushie machine there as well churning away happily it seems…
It’s all very clean and comfortable looking and you feel like you are being invited to take that last step within and taste some of the treats within the walls…
As you enter the parlor, you notice a woman behind the ice cream counter fiddling with the items there and whistling a happy little tune…
As the door closes behind you, the bell above it tinkles again and she straightens up to see who has entered her shop today looking for something sweet…
She’s cute. Medium length blonde hair, warm blue eyes, full red lips and dressed in a red and white striped server’s outfit. She’s shapely with a touch of that small town charm that always is nice to see on the road. With a cute little gasp she gives you a little wave to get your attention, if she didn’t have it already…
She smiles and twirls an ice cream scoop in her left hand as she says, “Hi! Welcome to Cinfully Sweet! My name is Cindy….”
A little toss of her hair and her blue eyes sparkle as she asks, “What can I get you?”
I’m a little surprised to find a quaint little place like this open 24/7. But something about it is charming, and the trip has been long, and will go longer still. So I scan the signs and admire the traditional decor, and the way everything seems both used and clean as new, and professional, yet simple. Even the counter-girl seems to fit the overall feel of the place, and as soon as she introduces herself, it becomes clear why. She’s likely the owner, hence the pun of the name.
Brushing some dust off my plain t-shirt and running fingers through my short brown hair, I shrug, unsure of what I’m in the mood for from a place like this. I really only stopped to get some air, but I should order something while I’m here, if only to keep from looking like a jerk.
“Uh, what would you recommend?”
Cindy tapped her right index finger against her lips and then said, “Well… My banana splits are very yummy… But maybe you’d like a ice cream float? Orrrrr…..”
With that thought, Cindy moved out from behind the counter and approached the coolers… As she came into full view, she revealed that she was wearing a pair of red slingback heels and that the outfit she was wearing ended quite obviously just about the midpoint of her thighs…
Moving past you, Cindy opened the nearer cooler and ducked her head inside, raising her right foot in the air and sort of dangling her heel in the air as she asked, “I suppose you are driving right? Most people do when they visit my place…”
The initial answer takes me a little by surprise. She comes off almost ditzy, but in that way you can usually write off as adorable, which seems strange for a business owner. But it is appropriate to the atmosphere and style of the place… Or so I thought…
The top half of her uniform is fairly innocuous, but the bottom half is more like a clubbing get-up. A miniskirt which shows off some admittedly very attractive, smooth legs, and the shoes add some height while accentuating the curves those legs contribute to. I can’t help but admire them for a second while she’s occupied with the cooler, and it takes me a sec to answer her question as a result.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Long trip, so I figured I’d stop for some air, something to eat or drink, y’know…”
Her foot was moving in sort of a lazy circle as she answered, “I suppose that’s better than walking in all that heat n stuff outside…. I can tell you something!”
Then she straightened up holding a bottle of some kind of soda in her left hand as she looked down and wiggled that left foot as she said, “Walking in that parking lot outside in these heels is a killer I can tell you… It’s a bunch easier inside that’s for sure!”
She looked at him for a moment and then said, “Something sweet alright or would you rather have something diet instead?”
Then she took the bottle and lowered it to her thigh, letting the moisture on the bottle drip onto her skin and then slowly begin to roll along the outside of her leg as she looked at him innocently and expectantly…
The parlor was living up to it’s name, as watching her leg and foot sway and wiggle as she rooted around in the cooler was certainly enjoyable in a slightly sinful manner, I must confess to myself. I smile slightly as her topic of conversation even allows me to look a little longer, my eyes looking at the shoes in question in order to show I’m listening.
“Oh, yeah, I can imagine… Especially in this weather. Why not wear something less… showy?” I offer, friendlily.
I start to look up, but the little bead of water, glistening on her silken thigh makes me hesitate for a second, before my eyes finally rise back to meet hers.
“Um, sweet’s fine with me” I nod
Cindy opened her mouth as if to answer and then got a rather confused look in her eyes as she said, “Actually I don’t know… I got up this morning and these were with the outfit… And it matches sooooo….”
She lost that confusion as she offered him the bottle in her hand and said, “It’s something new… Just onto the market a week or so ago?”
Looking at the bottle in his hand, he would see that the name of it was, !!!
And that was all there was on the bottle…
Cindy continued, “It’s supposed to be some sort of energy slash mind boosting drink or something you know? Wanna try that?”
The story about the rather inappropriate outfit tied in with the sweet ditz image I was starting to get of her, but it did make one wonder how she was able to run the place by herself, without losing receipts or forgetting to charge or something. I shook my head cheerfully and chalked it up to being the sort of thing that sometimes happens. Life doesn’t always obey logic, and people don’t always obey expectations.
With a similar shrug, I took the bottle and looked at the simple, but clear logo and frowned a little. I’d never seen the brand before, but I wasn’t exactly a local boy either, so maybe it was a small company’s big push into the larger market? It looked kinda nice, anyway.
“Heh. Those things don’t really work, but some of them do taste OK… Why not?” I smiled, and opened the bottle, taking a sip.
The drink would taste just the other side of sweet… Not unpleasant but certainly oddish…
Before you can take another sip of it, Cindy slipped her hand around the neck of the bottle and said, “For some reason the company says you are supposed ta share a bottle with someone…”
She raised the bottle to her lips and took a similar sip of it, her eyes going a little bit cross-eyed and then straightening out again before she said, “That’s an odd taste… Can’t quite place it really…”
She looked at the bottle as her eyebrows wiggled a bit and then added, “At least it tastes better than shoe polish…”
It was an unusual flavour, almost too sweet, but keeping from tipping over to being off-putting. And the light fizz offset it. It wasn’t something I’d stock up on, but for impulse buys, I’d regretted some far more. I was just about to see if the second opinion would concur when Cindy pulled the bottle to her lips, my hand still around the body of the drink.
“I don’t know if they mean that literally…” I try to explain, but she’s already downed a sip by the time I get it out, and she doesn’t seem to be listening anyway, “Uh, you OK?”
She seems to recover quickly though and renders a chripy verdict that causes my eyes to dip to both our feet in slight bewilderment at the odd metaphor.
“Well, that’s not saying much, though… I kinda liked it, actually..”
Cindy blinked once and then asked, “Kinda? Sort of like how you kinda like my shoes maybe?”
She hopped onto a table that was beside them and then raised both of her legs into the air a little and wiggled her toes as she said, “See… I like my shoes a bunch too… But maybe I need to polish up the shine on them a little or something? Or maybe change the colour? Oooo! Or how about I change them into a pair of red leather thigh-high boots?”
Then she blinked again and said, “Sorry… I am being such a ditz and zoning out aren’t I today?”
Her reaction forced a frown from my brow. I know some women have a thing about shoes, but this girl seemed to be taking this metaphor a little far. The thought was cemented as she jumped up and began waving and wiggling her feet towards me, as though asking for some kind of approval or affection.
The movement did part of it’s job, at least, and my attention was caught for a moment. In isolation from the rest of the outfit’s contradictions, the shoes were quite nice, from my limited knowledge, and the colour was striking, while not seeming too dark or bright. They were a little scuffed from use, but otherwise…
“They’re pretty nice, I guess…”
…Wait, what had she just said? Leather boots? That came from nowhere…
My eyes jumped back up to her pretty face, framed with her bouncy blonde locks*
“Well, a little… where did that part about the boots come from?”
Cindy crossed her legs and then continued to speak as she dangled and twisted her right shoe in front of her, “Oh… You know… Some people like shoes and things like that a lot… I mean… A lot… Can’t you just see it though? Lovely red leather boots that creep up my legs and stop just before my skirt starts? Just showing a little teeny bit of skin there while all the rest is soft and supple leather? The aroma of it… The looks of it… Wouldn’t the heels on them just curve my legs just so?”
She leaned forward and took the bottle from his fingers to take a sip of it before offering it back to him with the question, “Wouldn’t that look so hot and yummy?”
I shrugged and nodded, conceding the point of other people’s likes and predilections. My eyes dropped again, the light reflecting off the shinier parts of her shoes catching my eyes in a way just this side of irritating. And of course, as a result, her hypothetical boots were easy to imagine. She had a point, her legs were the type that took to heels well, and her whole demeanour meant that the connotations, the scent of the leather and it’s soft sound would have even more allure than usual.
I took the proffered bottle and sipped the sweet drink. My eyes still lowered, and I’d be lying if I said all my mind was on the drink or fashion…
“Hmm? Uh, I’d imagine you’d look pretty hot.. er, good… daring, in something like that…”
Cindy wiggled a bit on the table where she sat and then said, “Well.. But what’s under the boots n stuff?”
She slipped her shoes off, letting them clunk to the store tile floor and then wiggling her toes a bit, “But you know underneath them are feet and toes…. You know? Like that song?”
In a sweet voice, Cindy tossed her hair from side to side a bit, “Head and shoulders… Knees and toes…. Knees and toes…” As she finished, she wiggled her toes a bit and then asked him, “I’ve been told that I’m the bee’s knees… What do you think about my toes? I tried some new nail polish on them today you know… Aren’t they nice and shiny?”
She twisted her right feet around a bit revealing the slended arch and smooth skin of it before wiggling her toes again and asking, “Maybe putting them into boots wouldn’t be a good idea… Whadda you think?”
She was oddly skilled at not letting my attention drift away from the subject at hand, so to speak, for more than a moment. No sooner had I reminded myself where I was and what I was doing had her shoes dropped to the floor and my focus been pulled back from the ice cream parlor and the girl’s dazzling smile and eyes to her feet once more. Even as she sang the kids’ song, in an oddly melodic and deliberate fashion, the playful movement and striking colour caught my eye.
“Huh?” I shook my head to try and bring my wandering mind back to earth before answering the odd question, “Uh, yes, very nice… very pretty.”
My brow knit slightly, it was an odd thing to ask but also an odd way I’d answered, but I did mean the answer.
My confusion was interrupted by her coquettish arching and twisting, posing and flirting of her feet. The whole situation was taking an unexpected turn. If I was into such things, I’d almost say the sweet, ditzy girl was trying (and quite skillfully) to seduce me.
“I guess not if you’ve painted your toes…”
Cindy giggled a bit and then said, “Well…. Ya! But ya know something?” She looked around almost conspiratorially for a moment and then said in a faux whisper, “For some people feet and toes are the way to make them really happy… Have you ever had a really good massage? One that goes from the top of your head to the tips of your toes? Mmmmmmmmmmmm…. It can make you feel soooooo goood….”
As she said all of that, he would see a little shiver pass though her body as she closed her eyes in the middle of the story and imagined something wonderful… And if he was looking at her face at one particular moment, he would see that she bit her lip and stifled a little moan at whatever the memory was that she thought of…
Then she asked him, “I wish that I could have one of those massages… They’re always sooooo much fun…”
y eyes hovered and darted, her playful movements and breathy giggled whisperings turning the conversation subtly but swiftly intimate. I blushed a little at her newest observation of predilection.
“Um, yeah… some people are a little weird like that…” i muttered, trying to avoid dwelling on how much I had been and was still eyeing her feet.
Not that it was helping when I pulled them away to see her shiver and hold back a moan with a sexily bitten lip. Very few things are as attractive or arousing as a beautiful woman showing such felings, and Cindy was certainly all of the above. And all at the thought of a foot massage?
“Uh, well… I could try.. I mean, if you don’t mind me trying… if you want?”
Cindy giggled a little as she stretched out her feet and toes a bit, the polish on them glistening as she continued, “Oh would you mind very much?” He had come just close enough that she was able to take her toes and rub them along his pant legs just slightly. Then she asked almost innocently, “You know how this is done don’t you? Usually the massager has to get onto their knees… You know… Sort of kneel at the feet of the person they are…. mmmmmm… pleasing?”
Her head tilted to the right a bit as she continued with a slightly more commanding tone in her voice, “I always have found that starting with the right foot is nice… And I like being nice to people that are nice to me…”
The look in her eyes seemed to focus in on him a little more as she added, “And I want to be nice to you you know…”
And so it came to an end…