Rodan landed with a thud on the mat floor after being knocked down for the seventh time in a row. He was taking part in a one on one class with his Master, a stern and strict Pitbull, with the goal being to knock his opponent off his feet. Unfortunately he was having a hard time focusing, leading to him being knocked on his ass again and again and again. This time hadn’t even taken much, he’d been watching his master’s stance and footwork when the older man suddenly delivered a strong sidekick to his chest that sent him sprawling back onto the floor. As he lay trying to regain his senses, he felt a large weight on his stomach and looked up to see his Master sitting on his chest with his arms folded, an unimpressed look on his face.

“That was pathetic.” The pitbull frowned down at the hrothgar underneath him, “Are you even trying?”

Rodan wilted under his instructor’s stern gaze, he was normally better than this but was always seemingly distracted when he trained with the pitbull. He turned his head, looking away out of shame, and as he did his eyes landed on the pitbull’s thick, dark foot planted on the floor of the mat. The foot was almost larger than his head and covered in a light sheen of sweat, he could see the strength in it from a lifetime of martial arts.

“Well? Are you? Or are you too busy staring at my feet to do anything else?”

Rodan’s heart skipped a beat, he turned and opened his mouth to respond before a foot planted against the side of his face, forcing his head back against the mat. The huge foot almost completely covered his face as it pushed his head back to the side. His master continued to frown down at him as the foot he was staring at slid closer to him, until it was directly in front of his face. He could smell the instructor’s scent coming from his feet as the right one sat directly in front of him, and the left kept him pinned to the floor.

“If you’re not going to focus on training, then you may as well make yourself useful and clean the sweat off my soles.”

The hrothgar’s cheeks flushed, unable to tell if his master was joking, but judging by the stern expression on his face, he was serious. Rodan looked back towards the foot in front of his face that sat waiting for him, before extending his tongue and licking the bottom of his master’s foot. He continued to lap at his instructor’s sole until he felt increased pressure from the foot pinning him that caused him to look back up.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by this?” His master smirked down at him, a bulge starting to tent the pants of his gi. “Do better.”

Rodan focused back on the foot and dragged his tongue along the bottom of the pitbull's foot, from heel to arch and along the curve of the ball. One way or another, he was determined to prove his worth to his master.
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