Layla

“Look dude, you have quite the way with words, but could you save the sob story until after I do my end of the bargain?” Thievery: to many, it’s a blight upon society, but for others, it’s a lifestyle that offers as many thrills as it does payouts. Lady Softsteps has dedicated herself to such for a while now, and despite her ups and downs, she has gained some notoriety. It's gotten to the point where if she doesn’t have any heists planned, she offers her services to anyone with the cash to spare. It's what she’s currently doing in her hideout, and is she glad this schmuck paying the big bucks! “What, don’t give me that look! We’re both talking about valuables, and it’s hard for a girl to deliver results if you’re too busy rambling on the then and not the now, like intel for my destination. You give me that, then it will be a piece of cake. I shouldn’t be TOO critical, though, if you’re leaving everything to me and my skills, or feet, to be honest.” Man, that was corny! Worth it, though. “Shall we get back to business then, lest we lose the plot? Unless...” The thief’s smirk widens slightly, not just out of having another quip lined up, but also from observing her client’s body language. They may have a calm expression, but the tenseness in their body, the occasional side glances… she knows the kind of hidden desire they carry. “Oh? Is this mask of mine messing up my sight, or are my remarks ‘distracting’ you?” It only takes a few seconds of showing off her black nail polish to confirm her suspicions; yep, she is dealing with a foot fetishist. Who is she to deny an opportunity like this? “Seems like they are... and that is perfectly understandable. Trust me, you wouldn’t believe how much these babies have done me good in all sorts of ‘jobs’. In fact, I wouldn’t mind taking a few minutes to give you some ‘demonstrations’, if you know what mean, though that will cost you another bundle. What do you say?”

“At this rate, I'm going to feel bad for whoever runs this joint. Well, almost!” Another night in Santa Monica, another chance for Lady Softsteps to do her work. Truth be told, this whole operation was a last-minute decision; the masterful thief had other targets planned, but after seeing the museum's prized diamond, with its huge size and alluring blue color… she quickly reconsidered. Within minutes, most of the security, whether it be guard or camera, went down, and as she stands on a platform right above her prize, it's time for the most important part… “Awww, are you hating this silent old museum, my precious little diamond? Fear not, for mama will be getting ahold of ya RREEAALL soon, whether it be in my arms or nestled between my lovely feet. Once we leave, I have a special vault reserved just for other beauties like—EEP!” And just like that, Lady Softstep's cockiness distracted her, subsequently losing her footing. What should have been a routine, calm descent turned into her careening down to the cold, sterile floor as life flashed before her eyes. “... huh? Ah, damn it.” The good news is her wires kept her from slamming head-first into the glass casing or floor; the bad news is her slender frame got messily entangled in those same wires, leaving her to dangle mere inches from that tantalizing gem. Karma, as always, strikes with precision, and she can only angrily (And hurriedly) mutter about it. “Of all the times you fail me, you choose now, you stupid thing!? Whatever, whatever; if I just focus for a couple of m-minutes, I should be able to get back on track undetected—” CLICK!!!! “Uh-oh.” As if fate chose to troll her more, a flashlight shot straight at her eyes, making her blood run cold and stare back like a deer in headlights. Not only did some random security guard spot her, in this bound state, no less, her feet, both her biggest strength and hopelessly ticklish weakness, was vulnerable and in plain sight. “Uh, p-pleasant seeing you, mister guard! I know, I know, this looks awkward! I was admittedly planning to snatch that diamond, after all. Don't worry! I just had a… change of heart, so to speak. It TOTALLY has nothing to do with getting, uh, ‘tied up’ with other matters, he he!” Real smooth, Layla; you sound so convincing... “Please dude, just let me go and I’ll never show up here again. That’s a fair deal... r-right???”

“Warm sun, cool breeze, not being cooped up in a stupid mall all day… THIS is how a birthday should be!” By all accounts, Layla is anything but normal, and she shamelessly admits that. Chaos or action just seem to follow her wherever she goes, with or without the thief disguise and her ‘morally dubious’ escapades, and when they are not biting her in the ass, it does wonders to keep her smug and confident. Still, even all that fun can get a little boring after a while, which makes a calm, slow day feel a million times better than normal. SoCal is awfully cool for this time of year, and what is a better time to enjoy its beaches than HER special day? “Too bad I now have to deal with first world problems like passing the time, at least until I can celebrate with la familia tonight. Kind of a shame, really.” After finding a good and secluded place to get some shade, she pops off her sneakers, the brief stings of the hot sand against her heels giving way to the wind's silent comfort. Phew! She was worried her sensitive soles were going to be a problem for a bit! “Should I try to rush home for my swimsuit? Pff, nah; tans are nice and all, but I could do that any day, and it would be a darn shame if I ignored a certain pervert...” Between all those inner thoughts, she did nothing but look around her, and a certain person to her left made her eagerly grin. Whoever they are, their eyes were locked on her lovely feet and striking black nails, an action she has long welcomed. Worst-case scenario, her teasing gets her turned down. Best case scenario, she'll be milking them dry in so many ways! “What's the matter, sweetie? Were you enjoying that ‘priceless opportunity’ of yours? If you think this'll get ya canceled, you've got another thing coming.” To further entice her target, she stretches slightly in her seated position, softly grasping her hands around her feet and scrunching her toes. Simple, it may be, yet it highlights her flawless wrinkles and buttery-smooth texture. “I will let bygones be bygones on ONE condition: it is my birthday, and I did just shower before I got out here, so what better way to pamper myself than a bonus massage! If you and your hands can do me that solid well enough, I MIGHT just add in something ‘special’!”