Walk Home

There was only one real option. Dr. Crane was a crazy hypnotist who'd turned Summer into a foot ****. She couldn't drink his cum. She stood up, feeling the semen squelch beneath her. She walked into the reception area. "You got a little something on your feet," the receptionist sneered. Summer turned beet red. Luckily there was nobody else in the room.
She walked out of Dr. Crane's annex, and into the mall proper. She nearly slipped, but someone caught her. "Are you..." the man said.
That happened a lot. Summer was famous, but it still took people time to recognize her. Time she wasn't going to give him. She walked away, quickly, but not so quickly she might trip on the human semen that was lubricating her feet.
People were staring. They say that she was barefoot, they saw that there was something on her feet. Did they know what? They must. Summer couldn't hide her shame. She made it to her car and ducked inside. She took a look at her feet. Still plenty of cum on them, and now they were filthy from the mall as well. Malls were not the place to go barefoot, it you had a choice. But Summer didn't.
She drove home, hoping the spell would wear off.