Friday, July 8, 2011


By Byron

Where do I begin? I could begin when my situation at work got completely out of hand, or I could begin at the beginning, when I first started work at the advertising company. It was a boutique firm of about nine people which specialized in print ads for merchandise. I was an accountant, and had grown accustomed to working on a fairly independent basis. And for the first month, this job was no different from any other. The books were
But that all changed when the company was bought out by Morgan Chase, the ex-wife of Gavin Chase, the man who’d started it all ten years before. She’d only just obtained her divorce a year prior and had "bled him dry," it was said. But not content to settle for the millions she’s received as part of the divorce settlement, she wanted the company which, for years, had been Gavin’s pride and joy. But the firm was ailing and Gavin had already resigned himself to selling it off. Convinced she could "do it better," Morgan made the offer and Gavin surprisingly accepted. I just recall what a defeated and tired man he looked, and wondered if that was what a marriage to someone like Morgan could do to you.
Things changed fairly quickly around the office once Morgan stepped in. Gavin simply vanished, leaving a substantial account deficit in his wake. That was then Morgan announced her plan for a leaner and meaner company. Of course, that was her way of explaining that some people would soon be out of work. I figured I wouldn’t last long, considering I was the newest employee.
Instead, a couple of the artists, Mike and Steve, were asked to leave. A couple of weeks later, Gene, another sales guy sealed his fate when he called Morgan a "ball-busting bitch from Hell" within earshot of her. I remember him saying something about her "having it in for all men" because she was miserable and sexually frustrated. She played it cool, took him into her office. Within an hour, Gene had packed his things and left.
By that time, there was just me and Morgan, in addition to six of the female co-workers. A few of them were blatantly lazy and completely extraneous to the company. But they survived the little purge. Granted, it surprised me that efficient and skilled ad people like Mike and Steve were laid off, when chatty gossip-mongers like Beverly and Cori continued to receive pay checks for doing nothing. Lee, Marta and Luisa were professional enough, but the tone of the place began to change.
But first a few words about Morgan. She was much younger than her ex husband and couldn’t have been much over forty. If she was older, she didn’t look it. She knew how to dress, always professional in blazers, shirts and trousers. To be honest, I thought she was very attractive; and I even flattered myself that she liked me. Why else would she have kept me on? She was always polite and pleasant to me and always greeted me with a friendly smile.
At least once a day, she would enter my office and throw herself into a seat across from my desk. I’d keep her apprised of the company’s improving financial situation. She loved the good news but had no patience for the bad news.
Anyway, the problem started harmlessly enough. You see, she had gotten into the habit of throwing her feet onto my desk, ankles crossed whenever she sat across from me. She’d lean back in her chair, arms behind her head and probe me with questions. Sometimes he questions got more personal, and she’d even asked me if I had a wife or girlfriend. I didn’t at the time as my life had been a but hectic while I was out of work.
I suppose I shouldn’t have minded, and I’m not a finicky kind of guy, but it bothered me that she’d sling her feet onto my desk, sometimes knocking papers from the desk and never apologizing. She usually seemed to wear the same high-heel loafers, which she’d alternate with an old pair of sneakers. It always surprised me that someone with as much money as she had and who took so much pride in her appearance would wear the same old shoes day after day.
But I found it difficult conversing with her while the dirty soles of her shoes were only a foot or more from my face. It seemed disrespectful, but I didn’t know how to ask her to take her feet off my desk.
But the problem became too trying for me when, on one occasion, she slung her feet onto my desk while I was eating lunch. Her heel flattened half of a ham sandwich I’d set in front of me, but she simply tossed it aside from her shoe without a hint of remorse. It was as if she were annoyed my sandwich were there in the first place.
"Is this a cafeteria?" she queried with a look of annoyance.
I didn’t answer the question right away. I thought about it and realized this was my opportunity to express my views.
"At the risk of sounding rude, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind removing your feet from my desk … at least while I’m eating.
I smiled good-naturedly, but she looked appalled. "What?" she replied. "Do I disgust you?"
"No, not at all."
She shook her head. "Be glad I don’t take my shoes off too. Then maybe you’d have something to complain about. But I think you can respect me enough to let me feel at home in my own company."
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that …"
She didn’t let me finish. "If I were a man, you’d say nothing. It’s because I’m a woman, right?
Retrieving her feet from the desk, she glared at me before standing. "You men are all the same."
I was too shocked to say anything when she stormed from the room. Until then our conversations had always been pleasant. And now I wondered if my job might be in jeopardy too.
The following day, she was fairly cheerful and greeted me with a smile. It was as if our little tiff had been long forgotten. But then I discovered a down-side to her enthusiasm and vigor. Later in the day, I gave her some encouraging news about our financial situation. Though I didn’t mind her grabbing my arms and shaking me with considerable enthusiasm, I was surprise to feel her clapping her hand against my ass. I figured she didn’t realize what she was doing at the time, so I promptly forgot about it. But then it happened again. I was returning from the bathroom when I felt someone give my ass a pinch.
I turned to find Morgan grinning as she gazed at me. Beside her stood a couple of her friends, Sasha and Lil, who were also smiling. But something about how the three of them looked me over made me feel naked.
"He’s a smart boy, this one," said Morgan with some measure of pride.
"Pretty cute too," remarked Sasha, a heavy set woman in her late thirties who couldn’t keep her eyes off me.
I didn’t know what to say, but I was relieved of having to respond when Morgan took her friends to her office.
Clearly, the ass-pinching was harassment. She knew what she was doing. But I was afraid to bring it up to her. I figured she’d fly off the handle, and find some pretext to fire me. I thought about bringing it up with Luisa, our HR person, but then figured I’d sound like a baby.
So I let it go. Morgan continued to throw her feet onto my desk when me met in my office, but I said nothing. But then something happened which required me to speak. I didn’t notice at first because I was facing my computer when she sat down. I smelled it first. A nauseating, sickly sweet smell of foot sweat and leather. When I turned, I was shocked to see Morgan’s dirty bare feet crossed the ankle only a couple of feet away from me. Her feet were bigger than I suspected, at least a size ten, and they were thick, well-padded feet, callused in parts. As she casually wiggled her toes, I was astounded by he force of the unwholesome stink. Did she honestly think it wouldn’t matter or that I wouldn’t notice?
"Would you mind putting your shoes back on?" I asked as politely as I could.
"Why?" she asked, good-humor aside. "You complain about my dirty shoes on your desk, so I think I’ll take my shoes off from now on." She retrieved her high-heel loafers from the floor and raised them. "Or should I leave these by the door?"
I thought that incident had been forgotten, but clearly not. "I really don’t mind if you keep your shoes on."
"You sure about that? I suppose you’ll complain if I do and complain if I don’t." She leaned back, recrossing her legs and wiggling her toes in the process. She had no intention of removing them from my desk. "But, I must say my feet need a little airing out anyway, so I don’t mind taking off my shoes. So now let’s talk about these figures."
We talked of other things, but I couldn’t think clearly for the awful smell. I tried leaning against my hand and discretely covering my nose, but it didn’t help. I held my breath but sooner or later I had to breathe. I endured her foot odor for five minutes before she took her leave. But from that point on, I couldn’t think of her without recalling how putrid her sweaty feet smelled.
Unfortunately, it happened again and again. I endured the smell of her sweaty bare feet on my desk three times before I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t grow accustomed to it; rather, the smell just sickened me more.
"Your feet," I began, "they’re a little …" I trailed off.
"A little what," she roared, as if I’d insulted her. And then she must have noticed my hand over my nose.
"Don’t tell me your sense of smell is so fragile you can’t handle the smell of a woman’s feet. Poor baby. I didn’t think a little foot sweat would bother you. Now I make no apologies for working hard, but if you can’t respect me enough to overlook a little bad foot hygiene, then I don’t know what to say."
"I didn’t mean to offend, I just …"
She interrupted me. "You know, if my employees knew their place, I wouldn’t be told what to do in my own company. I mean I don’t even think it would be too much to ask for an employee of mine to offer a foot massage every now and then. Besides, I’m on my feet all day, and my feet can get really sore even in these comfortable old shoes. But I don’t expect a foot rub and I’m not going to ask you for one, as much as I’d love one. But at least you can do is let me give my feet a little air once in a while … and stop being so sensitive about a little foot odor."
"I’m sorry," I said, which surprised me because I was angry that she could even suggest that I rub her filthy, sharp-smelling feet. I mean she should have apologized for the smell and put her shoes on. But she didn’t remove her smelly feet from the desk.
We spoke of other things, and the matter dropped. But I had to talk to someone. So that afternoon, I pulled Luisa aside and told her everything. I didn’t expect her to find it so amusing, but she explained that it was just a power game. "As long as you try to place limits on her, she’ll push harder to get away with things. All you can do is let it go. Besides, rumor has it that you can’t keep your eyes off her feet.
"What?" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
"It’s alright if you have a thing for feet, but Morgan told some of the others that you’re always checking out her feet and that you invited her to take off her shoes so she’d feel more comfortable, but that she saw through that one right away.
"That’s ridiculous." I exclaimed.
"Oh, no one cares. So you like feet," she said crossing her legs and revealing the polished toes of her sandaled feet. "Not unusual. But it is strange that you don’t mind how stinky her feet get. She said you enjoy it."
"She tells you this and you believe it?"
"Don’t be embarrassed," said Luisa with a smile.
I stood up and turned to go. And then it happened, Luisa cupped my behind, just as Morgan had done. "If you lighten up a little, everything’ll be fine."
I was speechless and walked away. I dreaded to think what was being said behind my back.. On my way to my office, I observed Beverly and Cori giggling and speaking in hushed tones. They were always laughing, but now I felt they were laughing about me because they abruptly stopped when I appeared and resumed their laughter once I’d left.
I was already in a bad mood when Morgan came to my office and formally introduced me to her friends, Sasha and Lil. But when Morgan had the nerve to see if I wouldn’t mind entertaining her friends while she went to a meeting, I could barely contain my anger. But I was professional, even as they made themselves comfortable.
"Would you mind getting us some coffee," asked Lil, the tall, slender one in pants and Doc Martens. "No, make it a tea … something sweet."
"I’ll have a water," said Sasha, the full-figured one, as she kicked off a high heel shoe and began massaging her stocking-covered foot. "And a foot rub would be great," she said with a chuckle. "Just kidding."
What was I doing serving drinks, I asked myself as I did their bidding I wasn’t an assistant and I didn’t work for Morgan’s friends. But I did it anyway, returned with their drinks and engaged in small talk. I even answered some personal questions about my love life. They asked me what I thought of Morgan, but I was diplomatic in my answers. I should have walked out, but wasn’t my job on the line? I saw no harm in being pleasant.
"So what do you like so much about her stinky feet," asked Lil with a grin. "I had to ask," she said, turning to Sasha. "
"What do you mean?" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Lil stood up and approached me, grabbing me by the tie, she yanked me forward. "Come on now, you’re such a closed book. Maybe if your tie wasn’t on so tight."
Sasha turned to me. "You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I think foot guys can be a lot of fun. I mean you can work with someone for years, and have no idea. And if only you’d known they would have liked nothing better then to get my stinky dogs in his face, I would have been more than happy to oblige." She laughed as she pointed a nyloned foot towards me. "It’s perfect ‘cause my feet get really sweaty."
"So how smelly do you like them?" asked Lil. "I’m just curious what you like most about feet?"
"I’m not into feet," I relied. "Really."
Lil removed her Doc Marten to reveal a black sock-covered foot. "Woosh, my feet reek.," she said with a chuckle, pinching her nose. Raising her foot, she asked: "Bet you wish you had this in your face," she giggled. The sock looked
I could already smell them: pungent and stale. I turned away but I could still smell them.
"Don’t be ridiculous," laughed Lil. "You’re embarrassed about us knowing you have a thing for feet, but you’re mortified because we know you have a thing for stinky, sweaty feet. You worry that we think you’re a freak. But we don’t."
And then Sasha, still extending her leg and pointing her stocking-covered toes, spoke up. "See, we’re practical women. We know we stand to benefit. You like feet? Well, we love getting our feet rubbed and licked. And don’t even get me started on toe sucking."
"Me?" added Lil. "I love getting my dogs sniffed. And what’s great about a guy like you is you don’t mind how funky our feet get by the end of the day when our feet really need the attention."
I had enough. "I don’t know what the hell you two are talking about, but I don’t want anything to do with your feet. So you can put your shoes on."
Lil glared at me. "Oh, so you’d smell Morgan’s cheesy toes, but you don’t want anything to do with ours?"
"I don’t want anything to do with any women’s feet." I turned and opened the door.
"Well, excuse me," uttered Sasha as he left, letting the door slam closed behind me.
It must have been six o’clock when Morgan asked me into her office, just as I was leaving for home. She didn’t seem to pleased with me, but I was prepared to have it out with her, once and for all; even if it cost me my job.
I took a seat in her office, opposite Morgan. She seemed too preoccupied with a report to even recognize my presence. And then, one at a time, she swung her dirty bare feet onto her desk. The sharp, cheesy stench hit me like a brick, so I tried to hold my breath.
"I’m disappointed in you."
Morgan turned her face to mine. "Lil tells me you made sexual advances, asked her what she was like in bed, what her favorite positions were …completely out of line …"
"That’s not true. As a matter of fact …"
But she didn’t let me finish. "I trusted you to make a good impression, make them feel welcome. I mean they’ve brought in some of our biggest accounts, so they deserve a little gratitude. But this?"
"They were trying to get me to smell their feet. I was disgusted and I left."
"Hmmn," she said with a chuckle. "Maybe you are into feet." She wiggled her toes a couple of times, holding me in her stare. My god, her feet were foul-smelling.
"I told them I wasn’t. I made it very clear. Now …"
She cut me off again. "You begged for them to rub their smelly feet in your face, but you have the nerve to complain about my foot odor.
"I didn’t."
"You know, if it’s so difficult to get a little respect from you, I have no choice but to ask you to leave. Of course, I’ll inform everyone of the shameful circumstances of your termination, and your thing for feet."
"But it’s not true. How can you do this to me? Not this way. You have no right."
"Oh, don’t I?"
I wasn’t prepared to leave, I suppose. I was earning good money and I didn’t want it to end, especially under a veil of shame. I wasn’t a pervert. "Look, I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding. I wanted to make the best of this, and I’m still willing to do so. But I’m just a little confused right now."
"Yes, you are confused." She said with a grin. "But if you can make amends, we can let bygones be bygones."
"I’m sorry." I wasn’t sorry but I wanted to smooth things over.
Morgan crossed her legs, continuing to wiggle her toes. "You’re a great worker, and I was even thinking about giving you a raise. And I’m willing to do so, but a little gesture from you is all I need."
I dreaded what she had in mind.
"I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t mind rubbing my feet for a bit. It’s been one hell of a day, rubbing to meetings all over and my feet are throbbing. Just a nice firm rub. Slow and firm." She leaned back in her seat, extending her big smelly feet to the edge of the desk.
All I could do was stare at her soiled, callused soles, and her large toes which she continued to flex. "I’ll authorize a ten dollar an hour increase with Luisa."
She had me. I could really use an increase. And so, ag
+ainst my better judgement, I reached for one of her feet, and squeezed. They were warm and damp with sweat. It was disgusting. And as I began to knead them with my fingers, she moaned with pleasure.
"Oh, that’s great. You know what you’re doin'?" She said with a smile of contentment.
I spent a full five minutes rubbing the soles of her size 10s and, having enough of the pungent smell of sweaty feet, I pulled away.
"That all?" she quipped. "Just when I started to relax."
And so I returned to my humiliating task. I rubbed and, perhaps observing a look of disgust on my face, she spoke.
"Be glad you only have to rub them. Now what if I’d asked you to suck my toes for a while? Or I could have asked to use your face as a foot rest? Though, who knows, you might like that kind of thing. Hot sweaty feet in your face; your nose trapped under my toes." She c huckled as she once again closed her eyes.
I was diplomatic and said nothing. I just rubbed the balls of her feet and brooded. I was selling myself for money. I could have walked out, but here I was with my boss’ cheesy feet inches from my face.
And then I heard the door click open. I turned to see Cori gazing at us, utterly speechless. And then a smile began to form, as she muttered an apology for interrupting us and then closed the door. I knew that vicious gossip was going to spread the news that I was rubbing Morgan’s feet, or that, Heaven forbid, that I’d asked Morgan to rub her feet.
Morgan opened her eyes. "Was that Cori? Silly, She didn’t have to leave. And I’m sure you would have been a sweetie and rubbed her feet too."
I didn’t tell her what I wanted to say. I just played it cool, waiting for this to blow over. I realized that I couldn’t win, and that the foot rub was the necessary concession.
"See it wasn’t that bad," she added with one eye open.
She kept me at it for ten more minutes before I left. I thought it couldn’t get any worse, but, of course, it did. And the following day was humiliating. It was as if everyone knew about my giving Morgan a foot massage after work. I heard whispers and giggles as I walked by, and now observed Cori, Lindsey and Beverly, sitting around with their stocking feet and bare feet resting on desk tops, in full view of me. Did they think I was a foot freak and were they playing with me? I pretended not to notice.
Later in my office, Morgan paid me a visit. And, grabbing a chair, she pulled it over to my side of the desk before seating herself in it.
"Oh, what a day," she muttered, prying off one high-heel loafer and then another before thrusting her hot, sweaty bare feet onto my lap. "I was just thinking that the only way I’ll survive it is with one of your fabulous foot rubs."
The stink of unwashed feet was overpowering. And I paused before grabbing a damp foot and rubbing it. We talked business and said not a word about the other day. It was a grueling fifteen minutes, but I survived it. And took it when she raised her foot, giving me a playful slap to the cheek in thanks.
"You’re a sweet boy. Thanks for doing my feet," she said, handing me one of her shoes. And so I had to put her shoes back on. I was insulted but relieved to cover her nasty feet.
And the remainder of the week played out the same. The other girls seemed to be doing their damndest to show me their feet, while I gave Morgan a foot rub on Thursday and a rub on Friday.
I had a weekend to mull things over. We were settling into a pattern. I didn’t like the pattern, but I was relieved things weren’t escalating. But then next week changed all that.
On Monday, Cori had the never to approach me, telling me that Morgan told her what incredible foot rubs I gave and that I’d be more than willing to give her one. I took one look a the ratty running shoes she’d been wearing without socks, and decided that I couldn’t stomach another pair of stinky feet. I shocked her by saying no. I figured I’d explain it to Morgan before Cori tried to make me look bad.
Cori had ceased to smile, nor would she even greet me in the hallway when we passed.
When I explained the situation to Morgan, she seemed a little put out; but my explanation that I only rubbed her feet out of my enormous respect for her seemed to please her.
"Yes, " she said. "I see that. But I’d like you to be more obliging to them. Builds morale. So be a sweetie and apologize to her and offer to give her one of those fantastic foot rubs. But speaking of footrubs…" And she raised a sneaker-covered foot to the table.
It was a relief to see her wearing a different pair of shoes. They couldn’t be any more putrid smelling than those loafers, but once I got a whiff of that hot, pungent, stench of dried foot-sweat and rotten sneaker, I was nauseated. Her feet were dirty but I rubbed them, just as I’d done before.
But then as I was earning my raise, She flinched, knocking her coffee mug to my lap. I leapt up but the coffee had gotten all over me. My pants were soaked and it was scalding hot.
"Quick, get them off then."
I was in too much pain to think about formalities, removing my pants in seconds and using them to clean my legs and my briefs. When I glanced up, I noticed Morgan sizing me up and grinning.
"Looks like someone’s well-endowed."
I covered the bulge in my briefs. Why didn’t I wear boxers?
"Just a second," she said as she approached the door. She opened it and peering out called: "Cori? "She held the pants out. "Can you try to clean these?"
"Are these?" began Cori.
"Yes. And you don’t want your co-worker walking around pantsless, do you?" There were some giggles outside. How humiliating. What was she thinking, handing my pants out, particularly to Cori?
Morgan returned, closing the door behind her.
"Would you mind locking it?" I asked.
"Oh, it doesn’t lock, but don’t worry, we’ll just finish the foot rub until Cori can clean your pants for you."
I felt vulnerable in my briefs, but what could I do. So I sat down and when Morgan thrust a big smelly foot towards me, I took it and continued to manipulate it.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and in walked Sasha and Lil. Initially surprise to see me sitting across from Morgan, they were clearly amused that I should be sitting there, without pants, and with Morgan’s foot in my hands.
"Kinky," remarked Lil with a grin as she gazed at me without pants.
"And you said you didn’t like feet," said Sasha. "What a little liar."
"Don’t stop," said Morgan to me, smacking my face with her sweaty foot. "He’s really good, too," she said to her friends.
-*+-"Your feet smell awful, Morgan, "remarked Sasha, with a wrinkled nose. "I thought mine were stinky."
"I bet he loves that," said Lil.
"He wouldn’t touch our feet," said Sasha. "But I guess ours weren’t funky enough."
"Oh," said Morgan to me. "You’ll give them some foot rubs."
"Lord knows I can use one," added Lil.
"Do you like sucking sweaty toes," asked Sasha. I said nothing.
"I hope you haven’t been keeping other talents from me, said Morgan with a raised voice. She turned to the others. "I went days before I got him to rub my feet. Now I can’t do without it. Now if he could suck and lick my feet the way he rubs them, he’d be a real find."
Before I realized it, Sasha had pulled up a chair and slung her heel-shod feet onto the arm rest of my seat. Using one foot to pry off a heel, she presented her beige, pantyhose-covered foot. It was a hot, musty and sour smell of unwashed feet but what could I do?
"This’ll be good," she muttered with a giggle, prying off the other shoe. And so I rubbed her feet for a good ten minutes while the three of them conversed.
"You know we should grab lunch," said Morgan.
"I haven’t gotten my foot rub yet," added Lil.
"You can get them rubbed when you get back. It’s a bit of a walk so you’ll really want it then."
Pleased with the answer, Lil collected their things while Sasha pulled her feet from me and slid them into her heels.
Morgan turned to me. "Feel free to grab lunch. We’ll be back in an hour and a half."
"But my pants?" I asked. What the hell was I going to do in her office until she got back.
"I’ll remind Cori when I head out. Come on ladies."
Sasha gave me a pat to my behind and thanked me for the rub before following Morgan and Lil from the office. The door, left ajar, began to swing open, so I ran to shut it.
How was I going to get myself out of this? I couldn’t get to my office without passing by the others outside. I was trapped.
I spent the next five minutes, waiting for Cori to return with my pants. I heard voices but no one knocked.
And then I peered outside. I didn’t see her so I caller her name. "Cori?" Silence. Perhaps she was out to lunch. But where the hell were my pants. I glanced about but saw nothing on her desk.
"Anyone out there? Hello?" Silence. Perhaps there were all out to lunch. Perhaps I could run to my office without being seen. I called out again, just to make sure no one was around. And then I did it. I darted across the open office area, but then caught sight of my pants on a chair at the far end of the room.
And then I heard voices approaching. But it was too late. Cori, Beverly, and Lee emerged from Marta’s office and saw me, startled and pantsless. They seemed surprised but then began to grin as I flushed red.
I scurried to my office, and shut the door behind me. The others were roaring with laughter outside, and I just slunk to the floor, mortified by the experience. Then there was a knock at the door.
I stood up and opened the door. It was Cori with an enormous grin on her face.
"You know, you don’t have to be so scared of us. If you want your pants, just get ‘em.
"I can’t go out there. Would you mind bringing them?"
Cori crossed her arms. "I don’t work for you, you know."
"What do you want? Money? I have five bucks in my pants pocket."
"You had ten. And it’s mine now. No. I don’t want money." She smiled.
I couldn’t believe she was brazenly playing this game with me.
"What do you want?"
"All I wanted was a footrub, and you refused."
"I’m sorry. Would you like one now?"
"Too late for that," she replied, pushing her way inside my office and closing the door behind her. She gazed at me, head to foot and back, and then spoke. "I felt humiliated when you turned me away, now I want you to feel humiliated too."
"I already do."
"I want you to take off all your clothes and set them in front of you."
"You heard me. I want to relish your humiliation for a while. Now strip."
"And then you’ll get my pants."
"Do what I want and I’ll do what you want."
And so I started to unbutton my shirt. Her bold gaze was making me feel uncomfortable, but I did it. I just wanted to get this over and done with. I took off my shirt, and then pulled off my undershirt. Realizing I still had my dress socks on, I pulled them off, and stood before her in nothing but my briefs.
"And the shorts. Come on."
I flushed crimson before sliding off my briefs and depositing them in front of me.
She chuckled as she looked me over. "Turn around."
Reluctantly I did.
Within a few seconds, I heard the door open and close. I turned, but Cori was gone. Glancing to the floor, I noticed my clothes were gone as well. I’d been had and I was furious.
Running to the door, I peered outside.
"I can’t believe you," squealed Beverly with a giggle.
As Cori raised my briefs, the room erupted into howls and catcalls.
"You’re so naughty," added Marta.
Now a few words about these women, just so you get the picture. Cori, Morgan’s assistant, well, Cori was in her early twenties, short dark hair and somewhat stocky and tomboyish. She usually wore jeans or overalls and sneakers and today was no exception.
Beverly, an attractive girl who answered phones, was a little more feminine, with long dark hair in a ponytail, and sporting a skirt and heels without hose. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five.
Lee, in sales, was in her early thirties and extremely sporty, and today she was here in her high-tops and skirt, an unusually feminine touch for her. She cropped her blond hair short.
Marta, an artist, wore pants and loafers, much like Morgan and wore her light brown hair in braids.
Lindsey and Luisa weren’t there, but I’ll mention them anyway. I never say much of Lindsey as she was a part-time sales person, but I did see her earlier that day in boots and a dress. Luisa usually wore sandals but today I saw her in a pair of canvas shoes.
Anyway, so there I was, trapped in my office, while the four of them squealed with delight at my predicament. Lee noticed me and called out. "Hey, let’s see what you got, pretty boy."
Beverly turned to Cori. "So what did it look like?"
"Not much to brag about," she said, tossing my clothes aside. "But he’s got a nice enough body, I guess."
Beverly laughed and applauded and the others laughed.
And then I saw Cori approach. She smiled.
"O.K. That’s enough. Can I have my clothes back?"
"I haven’t had my fun yet. But I’ll give you a choice. You can either come out here naked in front of the girls, or do something for me."
Cori pushed her way in again and closed the door behind her. "Now, I want what Morgan gets. That’s all. I just want to be treated the same."
"Alright, I’ll rub your feet just give me my clothes back."
"Footrub? No. I want what she and her friends get. Don’t play dumb. I know how you let her rub her smelly feet all over your face and how you like to sniff them. And I know how you lick them clean and suck her toes. We all know about that. I don’t know what you find to enjoy about it. I mean her feet must be filthy and rank.. But to each his own."
"I only give her footrubs."
"I’m sure. No, listen up. I want you to do my feet. I want you to take off my sneaks and I want you to smell my sweaty feet, just like you smell Morgan’s. And then I want to lick ‘em, every inch."
I glanced at her scuffed-up running shoes and couldn’t do it. I hated this girl, especially after seeing how she took such delight in humiliating me. But to let her rub those stinking, dirty feet in my face was a humiliation I couldn’t bare.
"Now I want you to fall to your knees and beg for my smelly feet."
I started to shake my head, my hands cupped over my privates.
"Hmmn? Do I have to invite the others in?" She opened the door. Hey everyone, I need help."
I leapt for the door and slammed it shut. Cori, smiling, glanced at my uncovered privates, so I quickly covered them again.
"Beg for it. On your knees"
I fell to my knees. "Can I smell your feet."
"More enthusiasm."
"Please let me smell your feet."
"Louder. Tell me you want to smell sweaty my feet real bad."
"I want to smell your sweaty feet real bad."
I didn’t realize she’d opened the door. And I’d said it loud enough for everyone to hear. And clearly they did because they were laughing.
She closed the door and walked to my desk. Taking a seat at my chair she crossed her legs and beckoned me over. "Alright, buddy. Time to get to work."
I began to stand up, but she motioned for me to stop. "Crawl."
And so I crawled around the desk, stopping inches before her extended sneaker-clad foot. "Now take off the shoe and start sniffing."
I hesitated at first, perhaps too long because she swung her foot into my face. I stumbled backwards. "I said take off the shoe and start sniffing."
I sat up and reached for her shoe. It took me a few seconds to pry it off, and then when I did, there was her sweat-soaked gray gym sock-covered foot. The hot rush of stale, pungent foot odor made me light-headed, but before I could move towards her foot, she clamped her sock toes over my nose.
It was beyond horrible. She must have been wearing the same socks for days and days without washing them. The toe ends were a little crusty and they smelled like milk past its prime. I breathed it in and it was humiliating.
"So I can hear," she added.
"I breathed in, loud enough for her to hear, and I was getting sick. Her sock toes were cheesy and she was scrunching my nose with them.
"This is kinda fun. Hope they’re stinky enough for you. Foot freak."
She took the liberty of rubbing her sock foot over my face and pressing her toes against my nose before ordering me to having a few whiffs. I did. I was completely degraded but it didn’t matter now.
And then I had to do the same with her other sock foot. The shoe came off, and I was engulfed in the fresh, hot odor of her unwashed socks. She rubbed the rough sock fabric over my face, laughing occasionally at the sheer audacity of it, before commanding me to take the sock end into my mouth. She then slid her foot out, and pressed her warm, dirty bare toes over my nose.
"Smell my toes, asshole."
I sniffed the warm stale odor of her toes as they played over my nose and face. Removing her other sock, she began to let alternate one set of toes and another, ordering me to take deep whiffs of each.
"Lie down."
I slid under the chair and she continued to manipulate my face with her sweaty size 8s. I must have been smelling her feet for upwards of ten minutes or more before she told me to open my mouth. She shoved one set of squirmy, unpainted toes into my mouth. The salty taste of her foot sweat was sickening, and I wanted to spit them out; but she was rough."
"Lick ‘em."
"I used my tongue and could feel the hard, callused ball of her foot and the soft underside of her toes. I had to lick between her grubby, cheesy toes and then suck on the soiled heel until she seemed satisfied that I’d cleaned them enough.
"Alright. Next." And she shoved another foot into my mouth. I sucked on her dirty toes, swallowing pieces of sock lint and dirt as I did so. A couple of minutes later, I was surprised to hear another voice from inside the room.
"Look. He’s getting hard."
I gazed back to see Marta and Beverly sitting in chairs and smiling. I looked to my right and saw Lee approaching and gazing at my cock which was, to my surprise, getting hard. I flushed crimson not so much at being naked in front of these women, but at being turned on while Cori’s dirty toes squirmed inside my mouth.
"It’s true. He does like feet," said Lee.
"And he likes smelly feet, ‘cause mine smell horrible," said Cori.
They did indeed. And when Cori squeezed my nose with her other set of toes while on sucked on the one foot, I was reminded just how strong her foot odor was.
But here I was. I’d submitted to this humiliation to salvage some dignity and so the other women wouldn’t see me naked. And now I was utterly humiliated, forced to endure the indignity of having Cori’s stinky feet in my face and the other women were seeing me naked anyway.
"What’s going on?" said Morgan. I turned to see Morgan glancing over from the open doorway.
"Well, I’ll be," remarked Lil with a smirk.. She turned to Sasha. "Was I right about him or was I right?"
"Why didn’t you tell me?" asked Morgan with a smile.
"He begged her for it," said Lee. "We all heard him. He begged to smell her feet."
"I think you got yourself a footboy, Morgan," remarked Sasha with a laugh.
"You must like ‘em real stinky, huh?" asked Lil
With Cori’s dirty toes still thrust into my mouth, I couldn’t say anything in my defense. They heard me moan and laughed.
"He said yes," remarked Cori.
"Would you believe this guy was giving me a hard time because he thought my feet smelled bad?" said Morgan. "You were just having a little fun with me, right?" Morgan kicked off one of her high-heel loafers and presented me with her broad-soled sweaty foot. I could smell them even more she cupped her hot toes over my nose and squeezed affectionately. It was like a Parmesan rind being rubbed over my nose and I was sickened.
"I’m sure you’re in heaven now. Looks like you finally get your reward for being so sweet. Go on. Have a good whiff."
I had no choice, what with my mouth stuffed with Cori’s foot. I breathed in the stench of Morgan’s sweaty toes. They were sticky with sweat as they clutched and grabbed my nose. "
"Mind if I …" said Morgan to Cori, indicating the seat.
Cori slid her foot from my mouth and made way for Morgan who took a seat. I could see faces above me, smiling, mocking faces. And there was Morgan smiling over me. "I’m sure rubbing my feet was difficult when all you wanted to do was shove your nose in between my stinky toes."
"Please," I said, shaking my head free. "I just want to get my clothes back.
"Oh, no need to be embarrassed about being naked, right girls?" The others applauded and cheered while offering their agreement. You just close your eyes and enjoy our feet."
"Poor guy," observed Marta with a chuckle.
"Oh, he’s lovin’ it," said Lil. "I mean look at his penis."
Some of the women laughed at the sight of my cock, rock hard despite the fact that Morgan’s sweaty foot pressed onto my face, and her toes played over my nose.
"And when it’s your turn, you’ll see how fun it is to get your feet worshipped. Just the sensation of a tongue all over the soles of your feet and sliding between your toes, of having cool air sniffed through your warm toes. Nothing like it."
"My turn?" said Marta. "My feet probably stink."
"And ours don’t," laughed Cori., as she grabbed her crusty, dirty sweat sock and began to thrust it into my mouth. I struggled, but with Morgan’s warm toes clutching my nose and Cori grabbing my hair, I couldn’t free myself. Besides I was wedged under the chair and could only extricate myself with difficulty.
"Come on," continued Cori. "these guys thrive on the odor. The worse they stink, the more they love it."
I was going to protest and set the record straight once and for all. But with a sock in my mouth, I couldn’t say anything. But then what could I say to explain my hard-on? I was sickened by the pungent, cheesy stench of Morgan’s big, dirty toes, but I was turned on? I took another loud sniff when asked. Nothing made sense anymore. This was just a job; I wasn’t supposed to be humiliated by nine women, naked and smelling and licking their unwashed, sweaty feet. But that’s what happened. I breathed in again. It was a foul smell but I was no longer nauseated. Perhaps I was getting used to their feet. Sniff.
Morgan began to slide the thick padding of her sole over my face, having me sniff her pungent-smelling heel before curling her toes in towards my nostrils so I could sniff the toe cheese from under her toenails. I was beyond thinking it strange; I was simply wondering how it all happened. What could I have done to have prevented it? I don’t know.
The acrid, salty taste of Cori’s cheesy sock was still a little sickening. I moaned, hoping they’d take it out. But Morgan simply kicked off her other loafer, presenting me with the hot rush of stale foot odor before her warm, sweaty toes found my nose and squeezed.
"There’s a fresh one for you," said Morgan with a chuckle. "Smell that." Her toes clamped themselves over my nose while her other foot slid over my face.
"Your feet are just hummin’" observed Sasha with a look of the purest disgust. "But he’s still hard."
When it came time to clean Morgan’s feet, I was a little overwhelmed by how wide her sweaty feet were. She tried to jam it into my mouth, but only got four toes in. And so I cleaned them, starting with her grubby toes. The taste of the days-old coat of sweat and toe cheese was unbearable, salty and vinegary and faintly milky. But I licked and sucked, even her wide heel which she pressed onto my mouth.
"This is just incredible," remarked Morgan. "You’re even better with your mouth than with your hands. And he’s a good strong sniffer too."
I’d closed my eyes only to be greeted by en entirely new odor, tart and musty, like old leather and foot sweat. I noticed Sasha’s hose covered foot, glistening with sweat, just before she jammed it gleefully onto my face.
I groaned from the potent, sharp, vinegary smell. Others backed away.
"I guess there’s no question about me being on my feet a lot. I wore the pantyhose all week."
"We can tell," remarked Lil with a laugh. Others laughed.
Sasha’s thick, solid size 7s were incredibly sweaty and greasy and they slid over my face. Somehow the ample sweat made it feel all the more degrading when she wiggled her toes over my nose and remarked that she wanted them sniffed real good.
She actually tried shoving her toes up my nose, much to everyone’s amusement. "Shove ‘em in," laughed Cori, who raised her bare foot as if to attempt it herself. She simply pressed her foot on my chest as she bent over to enjoy my humiliation under Sasha’s stinking feet.
She eventually rolled off her pantyhose and, presented me with the reddened, sweaty sole of her plump foot. "Start with the heel."
The cheesy-smelling sweat was quite a chore to clean off. It was sickening, really. But I licked and sucked, often without looking. My tongue probed between her toes and scraped over calluses.
And then it was Lil’s turn. I noticed her Doc Martens and then realized she had neither socks nor hose on. I dreaded it.
Using my chin to pry off her shoe, she flung it off, and let her warm, sweaty foot glide up over my mouth until her toes curled over my nose. She had long feet, probably a size 10, with long slender toes which smelled like sour milk and mild Cheddar. She squeezed my nose.
"Go on, smell ‘em." Others applauded her on.
"You go girl," said Beverly. With the encouragement, Lil pried off the other shoe and began to slide both sweaty feet over my face.
"That’s more like it," she observed. "I needed to get those off."
The soles of her feet were reddened and soiled from being inside the rotten shoes without socks. They were fetid smelling and sharp. And she loved curling her toes up against my nostrils. Her ill-kept toenails were especially cheesy. I tried turning my head, but she slammed her foot down hard onto my head.
"What are you doing?" she yelled, easily mastering me with her feet, grabbing my nose with one set of toes and holding it still with the other foot.
"I want lots of sniffing, boy."
I sniffed and sniffed until she relented. Before I knew it, I had her soiled heel in my mouth, and I was cleaning it, scraping the dirt off my teeth. Her feet were especially dirty between her toes and she made me swallow everything. And her audience loved it.
"You’re giving him too much of a good thing," said Sasha with a smile.
"And I’m going to be even more generous," she replied, grabbing her worn Doc Marten and holding it over my nose. It was rotten and vile-smelling in there. It was like the stink of her feet, only intensified. I tried to shake off the shoe, but she had no trouble holding it over my nose. Everyone cheered her on as I had to breathe in the stink of her putrid shoes.
Everyone took so eagerly to humiliating me with their smelly feet, I was taken aback. It was like some kind of conspiracy, as if they’d planned this all along and that this was the fruition of all their effort. I became more suspicious when they compare how smelly their feet were and how much trouble they’d gone to either wear the same socks for days or wear the same shoes without socks or hose.
And as Luisa, show seemed so nice, pried off a canvas shoe and presented her warm, musty foot to my face, I was disappointed with it all. ‘This is fun." She said, letting her sweaty foot glide over my face. Her other sweaty foot soon followed.
The rest of them took turns, even the more reluctant Lindsey and Marta, whose feet, mind you, were just as malodorous as everyone else’s. Clearly they’d put effort into it.
I finished cleaning Luisa’s sweaty size 6’s when Lee kicked off a hightop and presented my with a dirty bare size 81/2. Dirt lay imbedded in the wrinkles along her sole as she brought her sweaty foot down onto my face.
She howled and squealed as she began rubbing both of her sweaty feet vigorously over my face. Giving Cori a high five she then turned to me, clutching my noes in her toes. "Happy sniffing."
The smell was sharp and pungent, like locker room sneakers and sour sweat. Her soles were reddened and she rubbed them over my face with such joyous abandon, I was utterly humiliated. She made it feel like a defeat. And when she shove my nose between her toes and ordered me to "smell ‘em good" I simply did as I was told. I sniffed and sniffed hard.
Surprisingly, the more their feet stank the harder my cock got. And as I lay awash in Lee’s salty foot sweat and cheesy foot stink, I was rock hard. Cleaning them was no easy task as her feet had picked up so much dirty from her rotten sneakers. Days of dirt had accumulated between her toes and she loved telling me to lick it out.
I would occasionally struggle, which they all seemed to enjoy. But they had no trouble holding me still. Others would use their shoes and bare feet to hold my head in place. And while Lee played footsies with my face, Cori would occasionally slip her toes over to my nose for a quick sniff as would Lil. And at that time, I think the three of them were rubbing their feet in my face at once, laughing and singing as they did so.
I became so accustomed to the degradation of being under so many foul-smelling feet that I didn’t even care by the time Beverly used my face to pry off her heels and start rubbing her sweaty size 7’s over my face. I sucked on her slender toes willingly. And when Marta pried off her loafers and began sliding her nylon feet over my face, I sniffed when asked and sucked as ordered. And when Lindsey kicked off her boots, and shoved her dark socked feet in my face, I just breathed in the pungent stench.
The fetid, musty smells of unwashed feet, socks and hose was just overwhelming, especially as I never knew who’s feet I was sniffing or licking. At one point, I thought I was licking Lindsay’s sour, vinegary feet, but it turned out I was only sniffing her toes. Morgan had her toes in my mouth once again and asked so have them licked again. By that time, Cori’s foot slithered over my face.
Eventually, I didn’t know whose foot belonged to whom. Three or four feet competed for my nose, while others pressed into my mouth. They barked orders. "Sniff," ‘Sniff Louder," "Suck them," "In between my toes," "Sniff them harder." It was a bouquet of the foulest foot odors you could imagine, sharp cheesy smells, and musty vinegary ones.
I remember someone’s sneaker over my face and someone’s loafer, probably Morgan’s. The varying putrid odors fused into one. But I was beyond nausea or shame. I just lay there and took what was given me.
Eventually, things cooled down as people began to leave. It must have been hours as I noticed it was already getting dark. Morgan played with my nose with her toes, and grinned. "I’m sure you had fun, but I’m sure that was overwhelming, even for a lover of stinky feet like you."
A dry, crusty sock was stuffed in my mouth so I couldn’t speak.
"But thanks for being a good sport about it. You’re a real team player."
I angled my arm to free it from under the chair so I could pull the sock form my mouth.
"Anyway, it’s back to work tomorrow, but I think what a way to start the week huh," she said, sliding a foot into her loafer. "Aren’t you glad you relaxed and let things take their course."
Someone’s foot slammed onto my face. It was Cori’s. ‘It was a blast," she said with a laugh. "I’ve never had a guy smell and lick my nasty feet like that. And I got ‘em so ripe."
"I’m sure he appreciates your effort; and it was good you were aggressive or we wouldn’t have had so much fun with him today."
Cori rubbed her sweaty feet over my face and gave it a few slaps before standing herself. "Where are my sneaks…" She grabbed one and held it to her nose. "Whoosh, those are so foul." She held it over my face one last time. "How can you stand it?"
"Tough job, but someone’s got to do it," remarked Lee with a giggle as she tied up her high-tops.
"He enjoys it," said Morgan. "That’s all the matters."
I was left to get up. I was dizzy and unsure what to do. I’d forgotten I was naked and stood up, stumbling about until I found a chair and sat down.
Morgan tussled my hair with her hand. "I promise. Tomorrow won’t be so rough." Turning to whoever was left, she said: "Alright girls, time to call it a day."
Lee walked over to me and grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, thanks for doing my stinky feet. That was pretty cool." She chuckled before drawing Cori from the room.
"I’ll see you tomorrow sweetie," said Morgan.
I don’t think I said anything, not until everyone left. I eventually found my clothes and got dressed. I went through the motions, got to bed and came to work as if nothing had happened.
Except when Morgan called me into her office and had me lay under her chair, I realized that my life had changed irrevocably. I didn’t protest, and I think I may have actually enjoyed it. And when that hot rush of foot odor greeted my face just seconds before her warm , greasy feet began to slither over my face, I was at peace.

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