She tells you to get up.

"Get up," she commands.

You do as Riley says while you watch her get comfortable on the couch.

"Come over here."

Timidly, you approach the couch. Her roomates can't stop giggling, and you get the idea that they know what's about to happen next.

"R-Riley wait-"

"Nope. You lost, and a deal's a deal. I'm not gonna go out with some bitch-ass pussy who can't fight. So you're not gonna be my boyfriend. Ever."

"B-b-b-but... I really like you..."

"Then you should have fought harder," Riley responds cruelly with venom in her voice.

You hang your head in shame.

"On all fours. NOW. Don't make me kick your ass again."

You gulp. You hadn't considered that until just now. In fact, you hadn't considered losing at all, you were so sure you were gonna win. But now that's she's said it, you realize there's nothing you can do. Riley's stronger than you; she can do anything she wants.

After a moment of hesitation, you get on your hands in knees in front of the couch.

"Face that way."

You turn so you're parallel to the couch. A moment later, you feel Riley plopping her feet on your upper back, followed by all of her roomates, and it finally dawns on you what you are now: a footstool.

Riley lets out a satisfied sigh as she leans back and turns the TV on. The four of them start talking and giggling while ignoring the piece of human furniture underneath their feet.

Meanwhile, all you can do is stare at the rug and contemplate your ignominious failure. What could you have done differently? Could you have actually won the fight, and the girl of your dreams?

After a couple hours of being her footstool, you realize you'll never truly know now.

Some more time passes and the other roomates get up and go to separate seats, save for Hayley who's still sitting next to Riley.

"Ok, get up."

You scramble to your feet, only to stumble and land on your knees in front of her. Riley can't help but smile at your pathetic position.

"Perfect."

"W-wait... is it over...?"

Riley laughs sardonically. "Over? Oh no, you're my bitch now. I was just telling you to get up so you can..."

Riley stretches her legs and wiggles her toes.

"Rub my feet."

You groan. The smell of her dirty socks is overwhelming, but you can't say no to her. Hesitantly, you begin to rub her feet. Riley leans back and sighs.

"Ohhh that feels good... keep it up bitch."

You press your thumbs into her sole and turn away, making a disgusted face as you try to breathe through your mouth.

"Keep rubbing, just like that."

Hayley lets out another "aww" as she gives you a pitying look. "Don't feel too bad. I have to rub her feet all the time."

"Rub harder!!" Riley shouts.

After an hour of being her personal masseuse, she orders you to take off her socks. You do, and the cheesy smell of her sweaty feet hits you all at once. As you kneel before her, she crosses her legs so that one foot is directly in front of your face.

"Now... kiss my foot. And tell everyone who's bitch you are."

"Everyone...?"

You look up, confused, to see her pointing her phone camera at you. With her other hand, she snaps her fingers.

"NOW!"

A shiver runs down your spine and you look down, staring at her arch. Lips trembling, you close your eyes, pucker up, lean forward and plant a kiss on the bottom of Riley's foot.

"I'm Riley's bitch..."

"HAHAHA! I am going to share that all around... now everyone's gonna know you got your ass kicked by a girl."

You start to cry a little as you obediently rub Riley's bare feet, knowing that you'll never get to enjoy the privilege of touching her above the ankle. You're literally beneath her, worthy of nothing more than than the lowest, dirtiest part of her.