Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Ludo Studio and Joe Brumm. All other entities are the property of their respective owners.

WARNING: The following story has young characters taking part in foot fetish activities. If this isn’t your cup of tea, please read no further.

A Wackadoo Welcome

The vivid orange sky made for an especially gorgeous Monday morning in the suburbs of Brisbane, Australia. It was the first day of Year 1 for many young pups as they entered the spacious grounds of Rockingham Primary School, chatting excitedly among themselves. One of these students was Bluey Heeler, an imaginative seven-year-old blue heeler girl wearing a pink t-shirt, green trousers, and pink and white sneakers. She and her mother Chilli had already dropped off Bluey’s little sister Bingo at Glasshouse Primary School, the same one Bluey attended during the previous school year. Chilli pulled the red Land Rover Discovery into the drop-off lane of her eldest daughter’s new school, put the gearshift in park, and turned to Bluey who was sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Well Bluey, here we are,” she said. “A big step up from kindy.”

“Mum, will there be any mean kids at this school?” asked Bluey.

“Not too many, I hope,” said Chilli. “There’s no need to be nervous. You’ll have a larger class and make some brand new friends.”

“We missed orientation last week while I was at the doctor’s, so I don’t know if I’ll see any familiar faces in my own class.”

“I’m sure you will, sweetie.” Chilli held out her hands. “Here, one last hug before you go.”

Bluey unbuckled her seat belt and held her arms around her mother for about five seconds before letting go and stepping out of the car, taking her backpack along with her. “I’ll see you at three, Mum!”

“Bye Bluey, be sure to tell me all about your first day!” said Chilli.

Walking into the freshly landscaped school grounds, Bluey held a paper map to follow the path to her Year 1 classroom, marked with a star. Along the way, she ran into a border collie boy wearing a green jumper over a yellow collared shirt, khaki trousers, and navy checkered slip-on Vans. This was Mackenzie Braithwaite, Bluey’s closest male friend originally from New Zealand.

“Heya Bluey!” he said.

“Mackenzie!” said Bluey excitedly as the two wagged their tails and high-fived. “This is the nicest I’ve seen you dressed for school.”

“Thanks a bunch,” said Mackenzie. “I wanted to upgrade my wardrobe to prepare for the new school year.”

“Did you make that decision on your own?”

“My parents gave me some tips, but it was mainly my idea.” The border collie boy noticed his friend’s map in her hands. “Say, you know where room 110 is?”

Bluey’s face lit up. “That’s exactly where I’m headed! Is that your classroom too?”

Mackenzie nodded yes.

“Yay!” cried Bluey as she opened the door to an indoor hallway. “What a relief that I have at least one familiar face in the same class.”

“You never know, we might find more,” said Mackenzie.

“I heard that the staff here have a different approach to teaching than Calypso does,” said Bluey.

“Don’t jump to conclusions just yet. Every teacher has his or her own method of teaching.”

“But we’ve only had Calypso. Oh, I miss her already.”

“I still go and visit her from time to time. You’re more than welcome to do the same if—”

Mackenzie’s sentence was suddenly cut short by two rowdy Year 3 boys weaving past him and sprinting down the hallway in a race, their shoes squeaking loudly like those on a basketball court.

“GENTLEMEN!” called out an elderly lady teacher witnessing the boys’ antics. “This isn’t a schoolyard! I need you to walk!”

“But Mrs. Flagg, we’re only warming up for track and field auditions!” replied one of the boys.

“Those aren’t until March,” said Mrs. Flagg. “Save the competition for the schoolyard or the gym. Who’s your teacher?”

“Ms. Appleton,” said the other boy.

“Appleton? I shouldn’t see you. Goodbye.” Mrs. Flagg pointed her thumb back to the hallway’s exit, and the boys walked off slowly.

“First day excitement I presume?” asked Bluey.

“Heck if I know,” replied Mackenzie, shrugging his shoulders. “Our classroom is just upstairs.”

The two friends ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor, then walked down another hallway until they reached room 110. Inside, the walls were decorated with inspirational and comedic posters, at least twenty other students were scattered around the room chatting excitedly with each other, and a young adult female Jack Russell terrier teacher was sitting at her desk and talking with a light gray and white whippet boy.

“Bluey! Mackenzie!” A pink poodle girl with blue butterfly clips on her ears rushed over to her friends and enveloped them tightly in her arms. Besides the clips, she was wearing a light blue t-shirt with a rainbow on it, light khaki trousers, and black and white sneakers. This was Bluey and Mackenzie’s friend Coco LePoof, who often bended the rules of some of Bluey’s imaginative games.

“Coco, you’re squeezing the air out of us!” said Bluey jokingly with a little giggle.

“Sorry, I’m just filled with glee that you guys are in the same class,” said Coco.

“I had to go to the doctor’s last Thursday and therefore I missed the orientation.”

“That’s okay, it happens to all of us sometimes.”

When the school bell rang at nine o’clock sharp, Bluey and the other students sang “Advance Australia Fair” and afterwards took their seats. A three-note chime sounded on the P.A. system, marking the morning announcements. Once those were over, the teacher, Miss Valentina Oakley, walked gracefully to the front of the room, wearing a royal blue blouse with white polka dots, brown chino trousers, and vintage dark green Adidas shoes.

“Good morning, my new Year 1 friends,” she said with a warm smile.

“Good morning, Miss Oakley,” replied the class.

“Welcome to Rockingham Primary School,” said Miss Oakley. “We’ve been rated one of the top schools here in Queensland and even earned a national award of excellence last year. This will be my fifth year teaching at this school, and I look forward to an educational yet highly entertaining adventure with all of you bright-eyed and high-spirited selves. Show of hands really quick, who attended kindergarten with Calypso over at Glasshouse?”

In a split second, Bluey, Mackenzie, and Coco raised their hands.

“She was my kindy teacher back when I was your age too!” said Miss Oakley, clasping her hands together.

“It’s a small world,” replied Coco.

“Sure is, darling. Anyway, first things first. We’ll break the ice with a fun exercise where each of you will be in the spotlight, telling us your name, your age, and at least one interesting fact that we should know about you. As for the audience, feel free to ask any questions as long as they’re appropriate. Any volunteers who wish to go first?”

Bluey was the first to raise her hand, prompting the teacher to nod at her.

“Alright, off you go,” said Miss Oakley.

The blue heeler girl stood up and took her place, facing the class. “Hi!” she said. “My name’s Bluey Christine Heeler, I’m seven years old, I have a younger sister named Bingo, and I make up numerous games to play using my wild imagination, as some of you know.”

A Rhodesian Ridgeback boy raised his hand. “What would you say is your favourite game you’ve created?”

“One of my favourites is called Keepy Uppy, where you have to keep an inflated balloon off the ground as long as possible,” explained Bluey. “Then another one called Shadowlands, best played outdoors, where you have to stay in shady areas as you run along. There’s also Octopus, where one person, usually an adult, kneels on a couch with their arms dangling over the back of the couch, and at least one other player has to retrieve the treasure and bring it back to their home base without getting caught by the octopus, who wiggles their arms and makes blubbering noises.”

Next up was Coco. “Hi, my name is Coco LePoof. I’m also seven years old, and an interesting fact about myself is that I have eight older siblings. And I play the alto saxophone.”

“Have you played any concerts?” asked a chihuahua girl.

“Yes, I practice once a week as part of a jazz band. We hope to play the New Orleans Jazz Festival one day.”

“How does it feel to be the youngest of nine kids?” asked a Brussels Griffon boy.

“The house can be a bit hectic at certain times, but we still go hand in hand like a family should. Chores are distributed evenly for those of us still living at home, which is a plus since no one wants to be overworked.”

“Thank you Coco,” said Miss Oakley. “Let’s see, how about the border collie in front here?”

Mackenzie stood up and took his place, clearing his throat. “I’m Mackenzie Braithwaite, I’m seven years old, and I’m—”

Suddenly there was a knock on the classroom door. In walked a tan, orange, and cream-colored Afghan hound girl wearing green hair rings, a tie-dye t-shirt, a brown vest with multicolored accenting, a necklace with a swirly white circle, skinny blue jeans which were cuffed at the ankles and had flower and peace sign prints, and brown flip flops which showed off her big, masculine Egyptian-style feet with ten toes and natural, unpainted toenails. This was Indy Hicks, yet another friend from Bluey’s previous school.

“Indy’s here too?” whispered Bluey. “This is just getting better and better.”

“Sorry I’m late,” said Indy. “I was kinda lost getting here and I almost walked into the wrong room.”

“No worries honey, just take a seat anywhere you like,” said Miss Oakley. “Okay Mackenzie, you can continue. I’m all ears.”

“As far as something interesting about me,” said Mackenzie, “I’m originally from Auckland, New Zealand, as you can probably tell from my accent. It’s not the capital, but it’s still the largest city.”

After the border collie boy finished his introduction, a few more students had their turn, including the chihuahua girl from earlier who was of Indian heritage and whose family owned and operated one of Brisbane’s top-rated Indian restaurants, a bluetick coonhound boy who was an avid golfer, and a basenji boy who collected coins from all over the world as a hobby. Miss Oakley’s eyes scanned the class to see if she missed anyone.

“Elliot?” she asked, looking at the whippet boy she talked to earlier. “Would you like to give it a shot?”

“Certainly, Miss Oakley,” replied Elliot in an American accent, walking up to the front of the room while wearing a pale pink long-sleeve t-shirt with green stripes, gray cargo pants, and brown ankle work boots.

“Ooooh, what a handsome boy,” said Mackenzie softly.

“And those eyes,” added Indy.

“And he’s American,” said Bluey.

Elliot cleared his throat. “Hey guys, how’s it going? My name is Elliot Monroe, I’m seven years old, and I just moved to Brisbane all the way from Seattle, Washington, in the United States. And before you ask, I’m not a foreign exchange student. I live here with my parents. So far I’ve been here for two weeks, and I already love the warm, breezy weather. I look forward to seeing what school in Australia is like compared to school back in the States. I’m sure there are some similarities and differences. No matter what, I know for sure I’ll enjoy my new life.”

“Any hobbies you’d like to share?” asked Miss Oakley.

“Let’s see,” said the whippet. “I’ll give you three for now. I like to work on crossword puzzles, play video games, and draw colorful pictures.”

“Crossword puzzles, huh?” said Coco. “Does it matter the topic?”

“It’s mostly a wild-card type thing.”

Last but not least, it was Indy’s turn. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“Please excuse me if I have too much to say about myself right now,” she said, chuckling.

“Oh, you can share as much as you want,” said the teacher. “We won’t stop you.”

“Hello,” Indy told the class with a smile, her voice as sweet as caramel. “To those who haven’t met me before, my name is Indy Hicks, and I’m seven years old like most of you are. Something quite important you should know about me is that I have a gluten sensitivity, and I’m lactose intolerant, meaning I’m allergic to dairy products. I can still eat gluten sparingly, but I have to watch my intake to make sure I don’t consume too much of it at one time.”

“What do you eat or drink in place of dairy?” asked an English pointer girl.

“Instead of real milk, I drink almond milk,” said Indy. “My mum is even renowned for her gluten-and-dairy-free sweets, which I’m sure taste just as good as those with gluten and dairy.”

“Why don’t you tell us some of your hobbies, Indy?” asked Bluey as she winked.

“Gosh, fun facts and hobbies,” said the Afghan hound. “I sing and play guitar, I’ve traveled to many different countries around the world, and as the resident hippie of Bluey’s circle of friends, I adore Earth and its abundance of nature. Ahhh, nothing quite like stepping outside, taking your shoes off, and feeling the soft grass or the pristine sand between your toes.”

“I love your fashion statement too, it goes hand in hand with your personality,” said Miss Oakley.

“Thank you Miss Oakley, not a lot of kids my age dress like this anymore.”

As Indy gave her monologue to the audience, the other students were impressed. Elliot in particular was truly enamored, for when he looked down he found pure beauty in those big feet of hers, watching her ten plump toes dance around in her flip flops. It helped that the whippet boy was sitting in the very front of the audience. He wasn’t aware, but his penis started to get hard in his pants. Luckily, no one else noticed it either.

During morning recess, Bluey and Coco taught Elliot how to play Shadowlands on the grassy section of the schoolyard, with trees and parked cars providing just enough shadows. Lunchtime was around noon, and each class had an assigned table in the cafeteria. Elliot had a meat pie with a side of chips (French fries) and an ice cold can of Passiona, and Indy of course brought her own packed lunch suiting her special dietary needs. Later, the students had their art class, where they were tasked to draw pictures of what they hoped to accomplish during the school year. Using regular and colored pencils, Elliot decided to sketch out a picture of himself performing the leading role in a stage play. Indy was sitting at the desk next to his, drawing her own picture, and the whippet gazed at the Afghan hound’s feet from time to time when she wasn’t looking. Unbeknownst to Elliot, Indy took a peek at him in the act with a noticeable tent in his pants, but said nothing. At one point, the whippet boy accidentally dropped one of his pencils which rolled underneath Indy’s desk. The latter slipped off her right flip flop and grabbed the pencil between her big and second toes, then lifted her foot up to Elliot, allowing him to get a good view from his angle.

“Here Elliot, you dropped this,” said Indy.

“O-oh yeah, uh…thanks,” stuttered Elliot nervously. Upon retrieving his pencil, his hand slightly felt the smooth cream-colored skin of that big masculine foot. For a few seconds, Indy smiled as she wiggled her toes for her new friend before putting her sandal back on and resuming her work.

The next day at morning recess, Elliot had just finished playing a round of tetherball with Bluey. He was on his way to the drinking fountain next to the school building when Indy jogged up to him.

“Hey Elliot!” she said.

“Oh, hi Indy,” replied Elliot. “Didn’t see you there.”

“You got a minute?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Come with me and I’ll tell you.” Indy led her friend to a secluded corner of the schoolyard.

“So? What is it?” asked Elliot.

“I noticed you’ve been staring quite a lot at my feet,” said Indy. “And getting a stiffy in your trousers.”

Elliot gasped and covered his mouth, blushing immensely. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I was just curious! You’re not upset at me, are you Indy?”

“No!” replied Indy, laughing. “Heck no. Having an infatuation for feet is something I find adorable.”

“A-a-adorable?”

“Without a doubt. And I thought out just the right plan for you to get up close and personal with my lovely, entrancing tootsies.”

“Oooh, let’s hear it.”

“All we have to do is sneak ourselves to the back of the line during lunch today, and the two of us will go from there. That’s all I’ll tell you for now.”

During class, Elliot took quick glances at the clock on the wall, counting the minutes as lunchtime drew near. When noon arrived, the students strolled to the cafeteria as Miss Oakley departed to the adjacent teachers’ lounge. Elliot and Indy were the last two kids in line as promised, then the plan was put into action.

“It’s time,” whispered Indy into Elliot’s ear. “Let’s head back to the classroom.”

“Okay,” replied Elliot in a whisper. The slapping of Indy’s flip flops as she walked had a sultry feel, enough to kindle the whippet’s anticipation even further for the moment he had been waiting for since yesterday in class. Once they returned to the room, they closed the door quietly and made their way to something in the far corner that looked like one of those secret forts that girls would set up with blankets. Indy pulled back one of the blankets to reveal a cozy hiding place with pillows and a foam play mat.

“Ah, the Story Fortress,” said Indy as she and Elliot crawled inside the fort. “Comfy and colourful.”

“So that’s what this is called,” said Elliot. “I don’t recall the teacher mentioning it.”

Indy sat cross-legged across from the whippet. “I happened to discover it myself. Of course, for an educational purpose, it’s meant for quiet reading groups and discussions. However, in our case…” She kicked both of her flip flops off. “It’s just the spot for me to satisfy your intense attraction to my feet and toesies.”

Elliot’s tail wagged at the sight of Indy’s now fully bare feet. He brought his hands up to her soles and stroked the round heels, then the nicely curved arches, pronounced balls, and plump toes. The sensation of the skin on the soles was as creamy as their color. The Afghan hound sighed happily and curled her toes, allowing the whippet to admire her shiny natural toenails as he worked magic with his hands. Going over the toes a second time, his fingers gently brushed them before moving down to the balls, kneading them with his thumbs. There was no sign of any blisters or rough calluses on those large soles, which was rare for a seven-year-old girl.

“How’s the experience going for you?” asked Indy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting something like this to happen,” said Elliot.

“In other words, an unbelievable experience.”

“Gosh, those tight cuffed jeans really bring attention to your feet and make them look as big as a kangaroo’s.”

Indy laughed. “My feet are already big.”

“Do you use lotion?” asked Elliot as he kept massaging.

“Sometimes,” said Indy. “But I mostly use something called a pumice stone. You can get one for a good deal at Woolies for less than twenty dollars. Australian dollars, to be exact.”

“Does it have the same effect as applying lotion?”

“Pretty much. Speaking of which, I’d be interested to know how big and soft your feet are.”

“Okay then!” Elliot wasted no time taking off his ankle work boots and white socks, revealing his own bare feet. They were pretty big for his age, also Egyptian style with five toes and natural toenails, but not quite as big as Indy’s feet.

“Has anyone ever told you that bare feet are one of nature’s most beautiful qualities?” asked Indy.

“Oh, I knew that ever since I could talk,” replied Elliot. “Now that you mention it, yours would be perfect in a photo or a painting taking place in a sunny grassland, with a bunch of pretty flowers and butterflies surrounding your bare feet in jeans.”

“Awww, really?” Indy started giving her classmate a foot rub in return, to which the latter sat back and moaned in relaxation, wiggling his toes. “Whoa,” she said. “Most boys I know are the rough-and-tumble type, going on adventures and wearing out their feet. As for yours, I’m pleasantly surprised at how impressively supple they are, and I’m sure Polly would think so too.”

“Who’s Polly?” asked Elliot.

“A little toy doll I brought around with me at kindy last year. She went through a whole lot.”

“Ahhhhh,” uttered the whippet as he felt the sensitive parts of his soles getting thumbed. “This is even better than when a doctor massaged them at a checkup back when I lived in America.”

“That good huh?” replied Indy.

“Yes,” said Elliot. “Your technique has that special therapeutic touch unlike any other.”

“Sure it feels that way, but I have one thing in mind that would count as REAL therapy.”

“What do you mean?”

Indy looked down at Elliot’s crotch. There it was again, that raging stiff tent in his trousers, just waiting to be released from its fabric confines.

“The only way to find out is to take off all those stuffy clothes of yours,” she said with a wink.

Elliot went bright red in the face, and his eyes popped out as big as poffertjes. “A-are you…serious?”

Indy wagged her tail. “Come on Elliot, you know your pee pee wants to be out in the open.”

“Well, o-okay!” stammered Elliot, shivering with excitement. He took off his long-sleeve t-shirt, followed by his cargo pants, and finally his 101 Dalmatian Street tighty whities, revealing his fully erect, white circumcised penis to Indy, who was immediately mesmerized at the sight.

“This is the very first time I’ve seen a penis up close and personal,” she said as she kept gazing.

The whippet twitched his penis a couple times. “Oh gosh, this is gonna be the best day of my life.”

“You do realise that you’re the only one naked between the two of us, don’t you?” asked Indy.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m strictly naked for those sweet, massive, creamy feet.”

“I thought so. All you need to do is lay back, relax, and let my feet perform this genuine therapy.”

Upon hearing Indy’s directions, Elliot followed them, stretching his arms and legs and using a cushion against the wall to support his back. Indy scooted up closer to him and placed her large, masculine soles on his penis, manipulating it using slow, smooth strokes from heel to toe. Elliot immediately moaned in utter pleasure, wiggling his own toes at this new sensation of the young, luscious skin caressing his shaft and tip. At times, the Afghan hound would bring a foot in front of his face and make her plump toes dance around, allowing his nose to take in the buttery vanilla scent of her feet.

“Oh Indy,” said Elliot, panting lightly and holding Indy’s ankles at the jean cuffs.

“Want me to adjust my speed?” asked Indy as she wiggled her toes to tease the tip of her friend’s erect pee pee.

“Mmmf, just a tad bit faster, if you don’t mind.”

Indy sped up her rubbing by a notch, and soon Elliot found himself moving his hips in rhythm with her feet. His breathing became heavier as the minutes passed, and the Afghan hound smiled the entire time.

“I’ve heard that boys shoot all this white sticky stuff when their penises get rubbed enough,” said Indy.

“Want me to shoot mine out?” asked Elliot as he got into a kneeling position.

“Yes please. Cream my feet and toes. They could use it.”

“I’m gonna…”

“Yes…”

“Gonna!”

“YES…”

“My pee pee’s tingly, I’m gonna!”

“CREAM MY BIG AUSSIE FEET!” cried Indy with a big grin, simultaneously pumping her soles and wiggling her toes. And with that, Elliot panted heavily with a shudder as his penis shot out string after string of his pearly semen all over those smooth soles.

“Wow Indy, you were terrific,” he said as soon as he could catch his breath.

“Anytime, Elliot,” replied Indy as she rubbed her friend’s semen all over her feet. Once it was fully absorbed, she added, “There, it’s a natural foot lotion. And the best one at that.”

“How much time do we have left for lunch?”

Indy checked her watch on her left arm. “Plenty. Forty-five minutes left. But before we go back, we need to wash our hands with warm, soapy water so that no one else will know what we did.”

Once Elliot got dressed and Indy put her sandals back on, the two went over to the classroom sink and washed their hands. The whippet was about to head out the door when Indy stopped him.

“One more thing Elliot,” she said, unzipping a pocket in her backpack. She reached inside and pulled out a Violet Crumble candy bar in its shiny purple wrapper, along with a package of chocolate Tim Tams, then gave those two treats to her new friend. “I couldn’t ask for a better boy to add to my close circle of friends. Welcome to Australia. I hope you enjoy living here.”

“Thank you heaps and heaps, Indy!” replied Elliot as the two hugged. “What’s on tap for lunch today?”

“Fish and chips,” said Indy.

“Wackadoo!” exclaimed Elliot as he and his very first friend in Brisbane left the classroom to join their classmates for a hot, fresh school lunch.

The End

Will Elliot form even more friendships with the other kids? We shall find out soon!