"Office foot slave" Inspired by Coxbones art

Aug 28, 2002
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OFS part 8 - The interview

Hearing a strange coughing/choking sound Cassie paused in the hallway and looked back over her right shoulder into the lift. Jordan’s back was turned, the proud globes of her pert buttocks were highlighted by her taut skirt. Jordan was standing with all her weight on her left leg and foot. Her right shoe stood discarded on the floor of the lift. Her right foot was embedded deeply in Neal’s mouth. Cassie saw that Neal’s eyes were wide and staring, seeking help from any quarter. His face was bright red. Jordan was using her strong thigh and her weight to ram her toes so deep into the helpless man’s mouth that he could not draw breath. He was juddering in his constraints, trying uselessly to free himself. The lift doors slid closed. Cassie smiled and stepped away, heading for the Personnel Department.

A little way down the corridor she found her destination. Feeling a little nervous flip in her gut she opened the door and stepped inside. There was a desk facing her. Three women sat behind it. Lucy Campbell, a 22 year old from Liverpool sat to Cassie’s left. Jane Dawson sat in the centre and Jessica Hill to the right. Lucy, a pretty redhead with angular features and a petite build wore a black, long sleeved cardigan and black leggings. Her small feet were pale and bare. The nails were painted black. She was resting both feet on the face of a man. His neck and head protruded through a trapdoor opening in the floor. His shaven head was bent sharply backwards. If he had been able to raise his head he would have been facing toward the rear of the room, away from Cassie. Cassie did not know that Lucy’s feet were cold and she was using the man’s face to warm them.

Jane Dawson, from Manchester, was a 40 year old blonde. She too was petite, only 5ft 4 in height. She wore a white blouse and a black skirt that ended at her knees. She had well defined calf muscles. Her court shoes were kicked off. There was a padded bar at her feet and her feet rested upon it. Her toes and the front parts of both feet were pushed between the lips of a man who had once been her husband. The former chef was a giant of a man, standing 6ft 6. His wide stretched mouth was just able to accommodate Jane’s two feet simultaneously. She liked to have him run his tongue under, over and between her wiggling toes continuously. A small remote control on the desk at Jane’s right hand allowed her to shock his genitals if he slowed or stopped. As Cassie looked over she saw Jane’s delicate finger target the remote and press button 2 of 5. The man in the floor at Jane’s feet juddered.

The third woman at the desk, Jessica Hill, was a handsome, athletic 35 year old. The slightly Spanish looking woman had the build of a swimmer, with broad shoulders, a flat stomach and muscular arms and legs. Her hair was shoulder length and glossy black. She made an immediate impact on Cassie. She wore a red dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. The dress was calf length. Her legs were bare. She had a strappy red sandal on her right foot. Her toenails were painted a matching shade of red. Her slave’s head was bent back so that he faced the ceiling. A strap across his brow held it still. His mouth was wide open. His tongue was extended. Jessica’s foot was gliding back and forth, wetting the sole with saliva to soothe and clean it. He was quick to return it every time he drew it back into his mouth as it dried. He knew that any delay would bring an electric shock to his genitals.

A chair had been set up facing the interview panel. Cassie was invited to sit down. She was not in the least surprised to see a trap door in the floor before the chair. A male head protruded through this hole, facing toward the back of the chair, away from the interview panel. The man had a broad strip of tape across his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. A padded cushion on two thin poles just behind the man’s head stopped him moving his head backward. With his head against this cushion he was at a comfortable angle to serve as a ladies foot rest. A padded bar set into the floor just in front of the man’s head would serve for Cassie to rest her heel’s upon.

Cassie sat down. She crossed her legs, booted left foot to the floor, right foot hanging in the air. The man at her feet, Alan Jeffers in another life long ago, saw her the way an ant sees a normal person. To him she was a looming power. He knew what was to come and felt sick and broken at the thought. His eyes fixed on the sole of her boot.

As Jane spoke to Cassie Alan saw Cassie bend toward her right boot. He saw her dextrous, piano player’s fingers reach for the zip fastener on her boot. In agonising slowness he saw her unzip that boot. Every click of the unfastening zip brought home to Alan his helplessness and humiliation. Cassie smiled at the women on the interview panel as she slipped her boot off her leg and lay it to the side. Her heart rate had risen in anticipation of inflicting the moist and heady aroma of her foot on a man she had never met, a man who was helpless to resist.

Her sock clad foot and leg were now exposed to the air. Cassie rested her heel on the padded bar just in front of Alan’s face. The smell was rich and thick, vinegary and unpleasant. It made Alan’s eyes water. Cassie was invited to remove her left boot and she wasted no time in doing so. Soon two slightly damp and eyewatering feet were resting on Alan’s face, forcing their stench to invade his nostrils. Cassie patted his face with her feet, left, right, left right, over and over. She moved her left foot aside and jammed the toes of her right foot up, under his nose, leaving a tiny gap for him to breathe through. He inhaled her smell and a few fibres from her wool mix sock. She pushed the ball of he foot to his nostrils and curled her toes over the tip of his nose. All the time she was answering questions, pausing, thinking, talking and laughing with the interviewers.