Posted by Michelle on December 29, 1998 at 19:49:56:

It was early one Friday afternoon and Sara was driving home from work. It was a long day at the store. Upset customers, short staffed, that sort of thing. All Sara could think of was a nice relaxing evening home with her boyfriend, Brett. Fortunately, her co-worker agreed to come in two hours early. It would be a nice surprise for Brett to see her home early. As Sara approached the house in her little blue Honda Civic, she noticed a strange car parked in front of the house. Probably a friend of his she thought. She pulled into the driveway, next to Bretts beautiful 1969 Camaro. It had a monstrous V8 and automatic transmission. She loved the car but had been to scared to drive it. It had massive power. Anyway, Sara stopped the car and got out. She had on blue jeans, black top and some sexy white 4" sandals on her bare feet. Sara walked in and heard music playing. She then noticed the back door opened. Sara then walked outside. She was shocked and stunned by what she saw. Brett was with a female and they were doing more that just chatting. Sara broke out in a rage and in tears at the same time. Obviously, Brett did not expect her home this early. Brett had that "oh shit" look on his face. Brett approached the door but Sara slammed the door in his face and locked it. She needed to leave fast. Tears were flowing heavily as she ran aimlessly around the house. She grabbed her handbag off the kitchen counter and found something else, the keys to Bretts Camaro. "I will get you, you son of a bitch!" she yelled out loud. Sara grabbed the keys to the Camaro and raced outside. Once at the car, she opened the door and got in. Noticing the seat was quite a ways back due to her rather short 5'6" figure, she moved the seat up a couple of notches. The key was then inserted and turned. The engine fired up. Brett heard the motor and ran out the side gate. Sara locked the car doors and sank her gorgeous size 7 foot into the Camaros gas pedal. Brett was banging on the window, saying he was sorry. She wanted to hear none of it. She just stuck her middle finger at him and proceeded to rev the hell out of the Camaros monstrous V8 engine. Brett watched nervously as he watched the tachometer, which was mounted on the steering column, constantly was pegging out in the red zone. "Fucker!" Sara yelled out. To Bretts torture, Sara continued to beat on the gas pedal. Vroooom, Vroooom, Vroooooom! the engine whined at the mercy of Saras high heeled sandalled foot. Sara then placed her left foot on the brake pedal, placed the floor mounted shift lever in reverse, and slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The car took off like a shot. Sara then jammed on the brakes with both feet, but not before slamming into some trashcans in the neighboors driveway across the street. "Please Sara, I am so sorry!" Brett screamed. Brett was going to pay though. Sara then placed the car straight in the center of the street and stopped. Brett thought maybe she was going to stop. Nothing could be further from the truth however. Sara placed her left foot on the brake hard as she stood on the gas with her right sandal. The tachometer was maxed. Sara then let off the brake. Tire smoke started to billow out from behind the car. Sara laid a patch that had to be seen to be believed. Sara kept her foot buried as the car barreled down the street. An intersection approached. Sara then slammed the brakes on and sharply turned the car to the left, looping the car into a 180 degree spin. She had never done such a thing but seemed natural at the time. Sara then started her engine torture again. Brett was running down the street, towards the car. As he got nearer, she procceded to put down another heavy patch of rubber. Brett nearly gagged in the smoke as she raced pass him. This time, she continued down the street, out of site of the bastard. She zoomed along to the street, following the route that would take her to the freeway. She was determined to dog the hell out of this car.

The freeway entrance was in site so she again pounded the gas pedal with her luscious size 7 foot. She looked at the speedometer, 60, 70, 80, 90... still going faster. This was very fast for her but she wanted more. This car was so powerful compared to her little Honda. Sara felt she was not completely flooring the pedal so she took her right foot off the gas then placed her left foot on it to keep the momentum going. She then carefully reached down and used her fingers to slip down the sandals heel strap. Once this was done, a quick shake of her foot freed her silky smooth foot from the shoe. Sara now sitched feet on the gas pedal. Her foot, with unpainted toes, sank down on the gas pedal. The speedometer gained speed, 90, 100, 110... This is much better she thought. Sara wiggled her toes on the gas pedal, trying to get a better feel. She was going so fast, switching lanes constantly, that she did not notice the road construction signs. All of a sudden brake lights of other cars appeared in the distance. She knew she could not stop fast enough and then swung the car into the right lane and then the shoulder. Once done, she jammed on the brake with her one barefoot and other sandalled foot. "Oh god!" she screamed. "What the hell am I doing." The hard braking started the back end to slide to the right. The back right quarter panel started to scrape the guard rail. A exit then approached, letting her ease up on the brake. Sara hovered her sandalled foot over the brake and barefoot lightly sat on the gas. The car was now down to about 40 but not without substantial damage. The car made its way off the exit ramp and she slowed down to a stop. Sara sat visibly shaken, but yet had a wetness between her legs. She was excited. Strange as it may sound. After about 2 minutes, she opened the door and got out. She hobbled about with one shoe and inspected the damage. She was quite pleased with her hahdywork. She then got back in, slipped her other sandal off, and then repeated her power braking routine. Again, she lit up the rear tires like crazy. She then made a right turn and headed down a 2 lane road. A dirt road off to the right approached and Sara decided to go down it. The road was quite wide and then proceeded to due some doughnuts in the now less than shiny yellow Camaro. Saras feet were working like crazy, alternately pressing the gas and brake pedals with the cute toes of her barefeet. Sara was going wild. She was still pissed but had a fire inside her like she never felt before. This was way out of character for her. She was quite conservative actually. She continued down the road and decided to whip it around again. She did not notice the shallow ditch to the right. The car spun around with the back end going in it. "Shit!" she thought. "Okay you fucking thing!" I will get you out of here. Sara slammed the shifter into low gear and mercifully smashed her foot on the accelerator. Dirt flew from the back of the car. She then let up, left foot on the brake, shifted into reverse, and put her foot in it again. She felt the car going back, so she then braked, shifted back into low, and pounded her toes back on the gas. Dirt was flying agai. "Come on, you can do it!" she yelled. Sara had her ass off the seat, toes buried to the floor, tachometer dangerously red lined. The tires started to grab. "Okay baby! Come on! Almost there!" she screamed. With her undeniable will and work of the gas pedal, the car freed itself from its brief predicament. Sara stood on the brake with both barefeet and the car stopped. The car looked like hell! And she was loving it. She decided to head back to the house and show what she had done to Bretts baby. More continuous dogging of the huge V8 occured on the way back. On the way back, she could feel the tingle between her thighs. She almost forgot about what Brett had done to her. The house approached and she then made a sharp right, jumped the curb and went flying onto the front lawm. Serious damage occurred to the bottom of the car when she did this. One last heavy braking with her barefeet narrowly missed running right into the house!. Brett ran out of the house and saw his badly damaged car and started to cry. Sara jumped out of the car, grabbed her bag and shoes and walked towards Brett. "I hope she was good you little shit!" she said with a wicked smile. Sara walked into the bedroom, gathered up her clothes and walked back out. It was Bretts hoise and she had not lived there to kong. She was actually glad to be now rid of him. Sara threw her stuff in her Honda, Threw her shoes in the car, got in and yelled out a few more choice words towards Brett. She then started up her car, backed up and peeled out. Sara would never seem him again.

The End