Climbing The Corporate Ladder

Jerry Sinclair frantically ran through the field office of Snow Inc., critically inspecting each workstation. He usually had at least a day's notice before one of Phyllis Snow's visits, but for this one he had received only a phone call from her car...While she was on the way there from the airport. She had just returned from a meeting in New York with their biggest client, and she did not sound happy. She wanted to talk to Jerry and talk to him NOW. If nothing else, Jerry knew Phyllis would expect the office to be spotless, a mean, lean, sales-generating machine where the employees were kept away from any distractions that might hamper them in their efforts to move more product and make her richer.

Jerry made his way to the reception desk just on time. Right after inspecting the girl on the phones and ensuring that not one hair was out of place, Jerry heard the front door open. He snapped to attention as Phyllis strode in, trailed by her harried assistant. "Good morning, Ms. Snow," Jerry said, but received only a nod of acknowledgement. He followed Phyllis and her secretary through the office as Phyllis checked each workstation, one by one, all the while barking out orders that her secretary patiently scribbled down. The employees hunched over their phones and computer terminals, fearful of making eye contact with the brash, muscular Amazon woman who at 6' dwarfed Jerry's thin, 5'7" frame. Finally, Phyllis commanded her secretary to find an empty workstation and begin making the many phone calls and setting up the meetings she had demanded; the girl quickly scurried off. Then Jerry led Phyllis into his own office and closed the door.

He sat down at his desk as Phyllis turned her attention to the many video terminals lining one wall. Each was trained on a different part of the office...salespeople, data entry, accounting, file room, section managers. Not one employee was spared the electronic invasion, not even Jerry, the third man in charge. Phyllis' partner in the next office had a terminal where she could observe Jerry through the camera mounted, in plain sight, on the ceiling. "I had a meeting with Stephen McCallin this morning," Phyllis snapped.

"Yes, Ms. Snow?"

"It was not a happy meeting."

"Mr. McCallin isn't happy with all of the product we've been moving for him?" Jerry was sorry as soon as the words left his mouth. Phyllis turned around slowly, giving him a look that he feared more than death itself. He gulped when she brandished a remote control from her briefcase and aimed it at the ceiling, shutting the camera off.

"If Mr. McCallin had been happy," Phyllis growled, motioning for Jerry to come to her, "I WOULDN'T FUCKING BE HERE RIGHT NOW."

Jerry bowed his head subserviently as he approached Phyllis, then gracefully lowered himself to his knees. Phyllis was a tall, strong woman, and that strength showed even in her ankles and calves. Moreover, her feet were very strong too. They were well-toned size 10s encased in a pair of black pumps. Jerry knew what to do. He lowered himself to the floor and planted kisses on the tips of the pumps. "What can I do to make things better, Mistress?"

"Well you can start by firing that FUCKING ASSHOLE Accounting 'Manager' of yours. He spends all of his time leering at that girl outside his office. THAT'S MY TIME he spends stroking his pathetic little cock." She used her foot to push Jerry onto his back, then stuck her heel in his face. Jerry licked the spiked tip.

"Done, Mistress. And what else?"

Phyllis mashed the sole of the shoe into Jerry's face, cutting off his air until he turned purple, then releasing him. She smirked when she saw his cock making a tent in his pants and began teasing it with her heel. "This new crop of salespeople are fucking idiots--DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH THAT COCK UNTIL I TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN--and they need to be put in line. Raise the sales quotas by another 10%. If they can't cut it, they are GONE."

"Yes, Mistress," Jerry moaned, his cock straining against Phyllis' heel. "And what else?"

Phyllis mashed her foot into Jerry's cock, her stern look keeping him from even daring to cry out, then moved to a chair, sticking her feet out in front of her. "I've been up since 5 this morning. My feet are fucking killing me. I expect that you will make them feel better."

Jerry kneeled in front of her, his cock throbbing and begging to be let out. He knew that Phyllis saw his discomfort and was taking pleasure in it. He carefully slipped each pump off her feet, admiring her muscular foot and toes, nails bare but neatly trimmed and shaped. A pungent aroma wafted to his nostrils from her damp black pantyhose. She shoved both feet into his face. "Smell them, Slave. Smell the sweat that's been coming out of my feet since I got up this morning. You love that smell, don't you? You can't get enough of that, can you?" Jerry nodded, eagerly inhaling the fumes and feeling his cock pulsate. "You want to fuck these feet, don't you? Cum in between my toes?" She laughed bitterly. "Why the fuck should I let you do that when you can't even run this fucking office right? But maybe if you make my feet feel good today I will at least let you cum."

Phyllis shoved a set of toes into Jerry's mouth and he took them obediently, his hands holding each side of her foot like a sandwich as he sucked the sweat out of her hose. "Ahhhhh. You are good for something, Slave." Phyllis leaned back in the chair, letting her long, dark blonde hair cascade down her shoulders, and smiled at the sight of Jerry sucking her toes. She removed them from his mouth and presented her sole to him for licking. Jerry fought the urge to put his hand on his cock as his tongue ran up and down her beautifully high arches and his tastebuds reveled in her perspiration. Instead, both hands were still on her foot, tenderly massaging it. When Phyllis was satisfied with the first foot, she shoved the second one in his mouth and he repeated his actions. He nearly jumped when he felt the first foot touching his cock, tracing the outline of his erection through his pants.

"Mistress," Jerry asked through the foot in his mouth, "may I take off my pants?"

"Shit NO," Phyllis told him. "You need to be taught a lesson. I'll let you cum, but you're going to cum in your pants and walk around with it there for the rest of the day. Maybe that will remind you to pay more attention to what those fucking dirtlings in the rest of the office are doing." She massaged his cock with more fervor and made him whimper. "What do you think of THAT, Slave?" She pressed her toes into his ball sac, making his cum boil.

"You are too generous with me, Mistress," Jerry croaked. "As you always are."

Phyllis nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feelings shooting from her feet through her body as well as on readying her Slave for cumming. Her hand slipped down under her skirt, then under her hose and panties. Jerry smelled her pussy as she fingered herself. She never let him touch her pussy, though she had let him see it a few times. As far as he knew, only one person in the company had ever gotten to partake of Phyllis' pussy-and that was her assistant. Jerry knew because Phyllis had once sent him a videotape of the young woman eating her out. She promised that if he served her well he would one day be allowed to eat her, and maybe even fuck her. But he still needed training.

Jerry heard Phyllis moan and saw her arch her back and press against her own hand. "Watch me cum, Slave," Phyllis gasped, using both feet to jerk Jerry off as an orgasm racked her body and made her screech in delight. He bit his lip in the effort to keep his own cum in; she had not given him permission to release it yet.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, Phyllis composed herself and looked into Jerry's pleading eyes. "Now," she told him, "You can go ahead and cum, Slave. I want to see the cum stain your pants." It wasn't a moment too soon. Jerry threw his head back and moaned, his cock exploding over and over within the confines of his pants. Phyllis smiled when she saw the growing wet spot, then stood up and straightened her clothing. She indicated that Jerry could also get up, and he walked back to his desk. Phyllis turned the camera back on.

"When do you want me to fire the guy in Accounting, Ms. Snow?" Jerry asked.

A smile crossed Phyllis' face. "I'll take care of him," she said, thinking of how that sniveling little man looked at his pretty young employee as little more than an object. She saw how uncomfortable the girl looked through the surveillance camera. That's one fucker who needs to be taught how to respect a woman, she thought. She turned on her heel and made a beeline for his office.