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Hey everyone. Thanks for joining me for another story. This one happened not long after I’d separated from the military.
My military time had been invaluable. I’d grown up as a person, as young enlistees do. I’d gotten valuable work experience, a broader world view – all that. And I’d fully blossomed sexually. I knew with certainty what I liked, what I could offer.
Part of that was my wholly unexpected, new-found understanding of what my little feet could do to certain men. I’ve since been told I won the genetic lottery when it comes to my feet (you can look me up on instagram if you’re curious). So as I transitioned into the corporate world, I had every intention of showing off my feet and tormenting vulnerable foot guys at work.
Why? Because I could. And I enjoyed it.
Let me explain the approach I took to the whole “office girl foot tease” thing. I kept it low-key, subtle – because that’s all it takes. While I have a nice body and could have dressed to show it off, I didn’t. I only wore perfectly appropriate office attire – no short skirts, no low cut blouses. Nobody would have thought “office floozy” when looking at me. Ok, I did tend to prefer tight-fitting clothes but that was pretty common for young women in corporate America.
So I always looked good. Good but “office appropriate.”
That was even true of my shoes. My heels weren’t ever too high, that sort of thing. I’d learned that I didn’t have to wear over-the-top heels to command the attention of a true foot fetishist. Peep-toe works. Sandals or slides with modest two-inch heels. Cute flip-flops on casual Fridays. Again, that’s all it takes.
I’ve found that the office sexual tension that develops between a foot girl and a foot guy happens on its own private wavelength. Uninvolved outsiders remain oblivious. It’s a wordless form of secret communication that results in volcanic but totally constrained desire. It’s pretty awesome.
So back to what happened…
I was working at a job where I’d been hired as administrative support for a newly created department in a large firm. Our group was small, building up. My department head was cool. I liked my co-workers.
And I was exploring my new-found hobby, regularly tormenting maybe a half-dozen or so foot guys scattered throughout the building. These poor guys tried like hell to not get caught checking out my toes. But I can tell. I can always tell. And I remember them for next time. I made sure these men got constant reminders of what they so desperately wanted but weren’t ever gonna actually get. I gave them lots and lots of opportunities to look, to yearn.
I’m certain they went home and thought of me while jacking off, while getting blown by their wives or while fucking their girlfriends. And I loved those images. I imagined their hard cocks – so hard for me – when I masturbated or was being eaten out. Everybody wins!
So basically what I’m saying is, everything was great at work!
Then after maybe five months, my department head rounded us up and gave us some shitty news.
His department – my department – was being disbanded. I was stunned. I don’t remember much of what he said cuz all I could think was, “am I about to be unemployed and job-hunting tomorrow?” He did say that the firm was open to reassigning us to other departments but that bursa escort was at the discretion of the other department heads. Well, I knew several of these guys (like three out of five) so I got on each of their calendars to discuss my options – continued employment being the goal.
Maybe this would end up being ok after all. I tried to be optimistic but I needed the work – really needed the money – and this was a bad situation. Being positive about the whole thing wasn’t easy.
So the first guy was Stephen – who thankfully was one of my foot guys. For sure…
Talking to him, he was positive and encouraging but said he’d have a hard time justifying taking on another administrative employee. I purposefully drew out the conversation with small talk so he could get an eyeful of my pedicure. I occasionally shifted slightly in my chair to give him different little views of my feet and heels. He tried sooo hard not to look. But Stephen was a foot guy. No way he wasn’t gonna sneak his peeks.
Stephen asked about my other qualifications – other things in my background that maybe could help him justify taking me on. I offered what I could — but I left his office without a “yes.” Still, at least he didn’t say “no.”
The other two department heads basically gave me a “sorry, no, can’t.”
A couple days later, I stopped by Stephen’s office to reengage him.
I had a fresh pedicure and new high heels – thin black straps – so all of my smooth skin was visible. They were just two inch heels but they accentuated my arches nicely. I wanted to give him the best possible look at me. I was sure he’d love to have these feet on his staff if there was any possible way.
When I walked in to Stephen’s office, he glanced down and reacted visibly, noticeably catching his breath! It was subtle but I definitely caught it. Boom! Nice! Maybe this would work?!?
Feeling some courage, I sat down in a chair opposite his desk. We talked for awhile – eventually returning to my job situation. The whole time he was trying to make his downward glances seem natural.
And then it happened. His body language changed – like, a noticeable thing that’s hard to describe. The look in his eyes changed in a way I only afterwards understood to mean – I’m about to take a chance…do something risky.
He said, “maybe I could justify taking on a personal assistant.” I knew that he shared a secretary with another department head. So while this personal assistant thing sounded good — at the same time it sounded a little “off.”
I asked, what would that entail?
He responded with, “go close the door and might as well lock it too – then I’ll outline it.”
Oh man! I hesitated but did as he instructed.
As I sat back down, he said, “Good. We need a bit of privacy because as my personal assistant you’d be privy to personal information about me and I need someone who I can trust with anything.”
I nodded my head as if I understood. My head was spinning and I didn’t understand at all.
Stephen went on. “Let’s test you. Ok?”
“Ok,” I said. Mind swirling. Heart rate up. Weird tunnel vision. A little fear. Where the fuck was this going?? In the blink of an eye, I’d lost control of the situation.
I’ll never forget the look of hunger and forcefulness when he said, “Put your feet up on my desk.”
Oh bursa escort bayan my god, my foot teasing was now biting me in the ass. Usually I was in the position of power in these little office flirtations. They’d all be harmless. This was completely fucked up – reversed.
He was making good on what he’d said – I’d be learning “personal information” about him and this feet-on-the-desk request was flatly revealing what I had already figured out: Foot guy.
So what did I do?
I obeyed. I put my feet on his desk, crossed at my ankles.
Despite my fear and semi-disorientation, I wanted to do this for him and we were only thirty seconds into this whole deal. It was beyond thrilling. Shades of Rick.
Stephen gazed hard at my feet. So much sexual tension was in the air. I felt naked as he stared.
Then he looked at me and said, “Victoria, I’m going to hire you.”
I was both pleased and relieved and still strangely excited and fearful as I sat there feeling exposed with my feet on his desk.
He went on, “When it comes to the ‘personal’ side of your personal assistant duties it’s very important that we both understand one thing. You’ll have to willingly consent to any requests I make.”
Before I could fully process that, he went on, “So what that means is your job doesn’t require that you do certain “personal” tasks. You won’t be fired if you choose to decline a request. I will respect your choices. I promise you that. I ask, you decide.”
I just choked out an “OK” – feeling a little trapped by the situation. I mean, I wasn’t trapped – I could just walk out. But this was pretty over-the-line.
“Each time I request something “personal” and you agree to do it, I’ll have you expressly state your consent.”
He was really going on about this consent thing!
“My personal requests will happen every Monday, at the end of the workday.”
He took his eyes off my feet and looked directly at me and asked, “Understand?”
I said yes but I sure as hell wasn’t sure I understood what all this might precisely mean.
Then he said, “Victoria, to seal this deal, I need you to repeat some things. Only repeat the things that I offer up that you can support. Only if they are true and you state them of your own free will. And you understand you can decline? Your status as an employee will not be effected by your responses. You’ve got the job. However, your responses will help define our work relationship going forward.”
“Do you understand Victoria?”
I nodded yes.
“Ok, are you ready to answer me?”
Again, I nodded.
“Victoria, are you a slut?”
There it was. Like, I’m not stupid. Even though I was off-balance, struggling to keep up with what was transpiring, I suspected this was where this “job offer” was headed when the door got closed and locked.
But to have it confirmed – out loud – it left me stunned. But I’m doing this…
“Then say it.”
“I’m a slut.” Strong clit twinge.
“No, that’s not right. Remember, for this to work, you need to repeat and restate what I say. And say your name. In this case you say, “I’m Victoria and I’m a slut.” Like that.”
“Ok, I’m Victoria and I’m a slut.”
“Good. I need to document this exchange Victoria.”
He pulled out his phone, pointed it at me and started escort bursa recording.
“Say it again. To the camera.”
“I’m Victoria and I’m a slut.” Pussy just creaming.
“Victoria, have you been deliberately teasing me with your feet since we met?”
Oh boy. I hesitated… Then, “Yes, I have. I’ve been doing it on purpose – showing you my feet every chance I’ve gotten.”
“Ok, I appreciate your honesty Victoria.”
Then, “Victoria, are you a cocksucker?”
I’m thinking – Oh my god!! Then…
“Yes Stephen…I’m Victoria, your new assistant, and I’m a cocksucker.”
Hearing my own voice, as if from an out-of-body perspective…it’s hard to explain how hot it was. I adore sucking cock. But saying it – saying it out loud to someone in an outrageously inappropriate place – to someone I hardly know…I was trembling by this point. Physically, outwardly trembling. I wasn’t touching myself but my pussy had to be drenched.
“Victoria, do you like big cocks?”
In my mind, Oh, fuuuuuck yes!! Out loud, “Yes. I’m Victoria and I love big cocks. I worship big cocks Stephen.”
Stephen, eyebrows raising, “Oh you ‘love’ them! Excellent! I ask for ‘like’ and you say ‘love.’ That is just perfect Victoria!”
Then he said ok that’s enough for now. Wow, I mean, wow.
I put my feet back on the floor.
I was about to stand up to leave when he raised a hand to stop me.
Still recording… “Victoria, one request before you go. And as we discussed you can decline and that’s ok. Only accommodate my request if you want to. And you can stop at any point if you wish. Understand?”
“Ok, I understand. What do you want me to do?”
“Take off your right shoe.”
I did it.
“Place it here on my desk.”
I did it.
“Now take that pretty foot and suck your toes for me.”
I had no words. But I not only consented wordlessly – I wanted to do this.
As I lifted my foot to my mouth he leaned across his desk with his his phone extended. Oh my god!
I closed my eyes.
My toes came into contact with my full lips.
And I sucked.
He had me suck each little toe individually. He had me lick my arches and my heel for him.
Eventually he had me slowly pumping my little foot as deep in and out of my mouth as I could.
Drool fell onto my skirt. I was into it. My pussy ached.
I opened my eyes and locked them onto his phone.
He was recording every bit of this.
As I pumped my foot in and out he asked, “Is that how you suck cock Victoria?”
I stopped and slightly lowered my foot.
Breathing hard, totally turned on, I looked at him, just beyond the lens of his phone and I said, “Yes. Yes it is. That is exactly how I suck dick.”
I then licked up the length of my arch and put my foot deep in my mouth, pumping in and out, staring hard into his eyes.
He put his phone away. I stopped, my breathing absolutely ragged.
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements to bring you into this department.”
“Take the rest of this week off and I’ll see you Monday.”
I mumbled ok, retrieved my shoe from his desk, slipped it back on, and walked out.
Long story short, I only lasted three weeks as his ‘personal assistant.’ During that time, I consented to his every request. Although he put me through a lot, the honest truth was that I loved it. I loved the submission. But it wasn’t sustainable at that level of intensity – so I looked for – and found – another job.
Yet, I don’t regret any of what happened.
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