A Company of Women

"That's it. That's how to smell my stinky feet."

Chelsea let her sweaty, filthy foot slide over his face, her toes finding his nostrils, pressing up against them with a rush of warm cheese.

Her first foot was soon joined by the other one, as she curled her long, hot toes over his nose and told him to keep smelling them. The fetid stench was bad enough, but her soles and heels were really filthy as she dangled them over his face before once again working them all over his face.

At times, her size 10 feet covered his entire face as she encased him in the odor of her dirty bare feet. Every moment, he was expecting her to peel off the tape, but she left it, insisting that he keep smelling her feet which remained nauseatingly pungent. And every now and then, the stench turned to sharp cheese, which made him sick.

"Time to get these bad girls cleaned," she remarked as she reached for the tape over his mouth. It was then that the phone rang. She answered.

"Yes," she said to the receiver. "Oh yeah. He's still here. Smelling my feet. He wanted to invite you lot over before you left for home. Yeah. Of course. See you soon."

Chelsea hung up the phone. "Looks like we'll have company," she said as she returned the boots to her feet. "I'll keep 'em fresh until we resume."

Barely a minute past before the women from accounting were pulling up chairs and resting their feet on his body. It wasn't long before there were six women, including Chelsea, with their shoes on his body. Val's booties were resting on his cheeks.

Some of the women were chuckling about the stench from Chelsea's feet.

"Sorry about that," said Chelsea. "It was only meant for him."

"If only we could end every work week like this," noted Val as she used his face to pry off her bootie, a wrinkled nylon sole, size eight or so, hovered over his face momentarily before pressing down over his nose.

"Smell my feet," she demanded, pressing her warm, sweaty nylon toes down hard over his nose. It was a musty stink, suggestive of corn chips and cheetos. He could feel her anger as she continued to grind her foot down on his face, unleashing her other sweaty nylon first to pummel his face with two feet. The other women, except for Chelsea, applauded, seeming to relish Val's brutality.

Cupping both of her nylon feet over his nose, Val again ordered him to smell her feet. "I wore the same nylons yesterday."

"Imagine wearing them all week and having him smell them," suggested Chelsea. 'Doesn't it feel awesome when you feel him breathing that cool air through your toes."

"I just like my feet all over his face," said Val as she continued to grapple at his nose with her toes, her heels over his eyes. Now and then, she'd stun him by slapping his face hard.

"My turn" yelped Veronica the big girl in the Converse sneaks, who was seated next to Val on Eric's right. With Val's nylon feet perched atop his forehead, Vanessa pulled off one of her sneakers, a sweaty size 12 foot flexing before dropping on Eric's face. Her long toes were strong as they squeezed at his cheeks and then curled over his nose.

"Smell my feet, stupid," said Veronica. The others giggled at the insult. "He's like totally smelling my feet," she said, pleased with herself.

Her toes smelled of nachos and cheese, with a musty after scent of old sneakers. Her foot was large and she soon followed suit, sliding it all over Eric's face before holding her toes over his nose and demanding more sniffs.

"You know he has no choice but to smell," reminded the heavier-set Kelly.

"It's fun to tell him," said Veronica. "He so deserves it." The others voiced their agreement.

It wasn't long before Veronica had both her huge bare feet on his face, cupping both over his nose as she left him to breathe in her odor. He inhaled again and again, less humiliated than concerned about being able to breathe, appreciating every stale and cheesy breathe he could pull into his lungs.

The women had begun conversing amongst themselves, almost forgetting Eric was there, Val occasionally giving his face a smack with her foot while Val kneaded her sweaty feet into his face. Everyone continued to use him as a footrest, Chelsea with one booted between his legs, occasionally tapping his crotch.

Leslie, seated at Val's left, pulled off one of her high heel loafers, worn with a threadbare pair of hose, and brought a size 6 foot down on his face.

"This is great," she remarked as she rubbed her nylon foot over his face. "He does deserve it, huh?"

"It could have been a few footrubs on Friday," noted Val. "But he wanted to go full hog and really appreciate our hot, sweaty feet up close and over the nose."

It was Leslie's cue to slide her nylon toes over Eric's nose and demand he smell them, though she thought it silly to ask him to do what he had to do.

The smell was acrid and vinegary, her nylons soaked with sweat as she took to sliding both of them over his face, Veronica and Val now and then sneaking their feet in to get a few quick sniffs.

Fifteen minutes later, the chairs were pulled close around Eric's face as Kelly, without her pumps, and Stacey, sans flats, were also treating themselves to what they called "much deserved foot smelling."

"Now he can appreciate the smell of all our hard work," noted Stacey with her filthy size 8's pressed over his face. "Maybe we can do this again when our feet really smell bad."

"This is why you keep commitments," reminded Val. He needed no reminding. The punishment was severe and thorough. Their feet were already sufficiently foul, so there was no need to get them 'really smelly.'

It was Kelly who first thought to make Eric smell inside her shoes, her old pumps turned upside over his nose. "Those pumps reek, by the way."

Her pumps smelled worse than her thick-soled size 10 feet which smelled especially sharp and cheesy, almost painfully so. The pumps were putrid and musty, and she pressed it down over his face with her bare foot, as he breathed in the sickening stench while the women chuckled about his predicament.

"This is great," noted Val. "We're really having a great time."

"And we didn't let him get away with ignoring us," said Leslie. "We deserve this and he knows it."

"How about we get our feet cleaned?" suggested Chelsea with a grin. Everyone cheered.

Eric was relieved, not because he wanted to lick their feet but he was desperate to take a full breath through his mouth. He would clean all their filthy feet, just to breathe normally.

It was Chelsea who tore off the duct tape. The pain was nothing compared to the relief of filling his lungs with air.

He'd barely taken one breath when Val began shoving her nylon toes into his mouth. They were tart and vinegary.

"Suck on those," she ordered.

Eric didn't have much choice, as Val plunged her foot deep into his mouth, his tongue against the nylon fabric as she wiggled her toes in his mouth. She clamped the other toes over her foot over his nose so he was inhaling her scent while he fed on her feet.

The other women were shifting position, sliding their feet over his face and curling filthy, cheesy toes over his nose for sniffs while Val took turns pushing her nylon feet into his mouth.

"This feels great, by the way," noted Val, her eyes closed. "You're gonna love getting your toes in his warm mouth."

The women giggled as they peered overhead, all smiles as they watched Val feed him her feet.

In short order, the others proceeded to force their filthy heels and grubby toes into his mouth. Kelly was especially demanding about him cleaning her solid feet although her feet were the filthiest.

"I can't believe he has to clean them," noted Veronica, her long toes pressed against his cheek as she awaited her turn.

"He had a chance to rub them Friday," said Val.

"I'm glad he flaked," said Kelly, as she pressed her toes into his mouth. "We wouldn't get to teach him a lesson."

"I'll teach him this lesson anytime," said Leslie who made Eric clean the dirt and lint from between her toes and lick our toughened heels smooth.

Veronica's feet were huge and it was a struggle to fit five of her toes in his mouth, but she was determined to get them all in his mouth.

"Suck my toes," she ordered. His mouth was full of her sweaty, foul-tasting feet. He could taste the cheesy nacho aroma.

Val showed Veronica how to get the balls of her feet and heels sucked on and cleaned. She was giving him orders and he complied.

With his face covered in their damp, pungent feet, he barely noticed when Stacy took her turn, one heel over his mouth as she told him to clean it good. And he did. Both her heels. He was surprised how filthy were toes were, and she took great delight in feeding them to him.

When Chelsea removed her feet from her boots, the girls scattered. When the hot, acrid stench of moldy cheese and rotten shoes hit his nostrils, it was easy to see why.

"Your feet stink," noted Val with a chuckle.

"Well, he likes 'em," she said with satisfaction. She grinned as she slid one filthy bare foot and then another back to his face. They were hot and extra sweaty as she worked them into her face before pressing a heel against his mouth.

"These bad girls are ready for their cleaning, Eric," she declared. Some of the other women groaned. Others laughed.

"Well, we should get going," said Val. "Have fun Chelsea."

"Oh, I will," said Chelsea.

"Keep your appointments next time, asshole," said Veronica who gave him a painful kick to the ribs. Leslie and Kelly followed suit, laughing as they pummeled him with their shoes, stepping on him and grinding their feet down on his legs and arms.

"Next time you flake we'll use you as a carpet in our offices," suggested Leslie.

"Have him lick our shoes clean," suggested Stacey.

The women laughed uproariously as they left Jen's office suits, leaving Eric alone with Chelsea.

"Oh, they're so fun," noted Chelsea. Eric didn't know if she was serious or sarcastic. All he could think about was the punishing and nauseating taste of her toes as she pushed them into his mouth.

"You can be my carpet under my desk anytime," she suggested, moaning softly as Eric sucked on her toes, two or three at a time. He hated every minute and yet he wanted to do well, the sooner to get it over with. Once these women had their fun, they'd finally leave him alone.

Chelsea took her time, sliding her foul feet over his face as she told how she wanted them cleaned. And there was a lot to clean, especially between her toes. Wearing her boots without socks so long had left her soles covered in shoe particles which Eric had to swallow.

For a while, Chelsea leaned back, her feet covering his face as she lost herself in thought.

"Oh, shit," she said, bolting upright. "I've gotta be somewhere."

Chelsea hurriedly pulling on her boots, collecting her things and ran to the door.

"I'm tied up," he hollered.

She turned back and, grabbing some scissors, cut one of his arms free, leaving the scissors to do the rest.

"Great foot worship. It was worth the wait."

She winked as she gave his crotch a tender squeeze before standing up and running outside.

Eric was weak, his mouth sore from all the licking and sucking. But he had enough energy to cut his arms and legs free. Light-headed, he waited to stand and then climbed to his feet. At one point, an hour earlier, he'd been furious. Now he was just exhausted. He could only hope their treatment was at an end. Once Amanda was finally on his side, and done with humiliating him, he could demand more respect. He'd wronged no one. If only they could just leave him alone.

At home, he slept soundly. Come Tuesday morning, he was ready to claim the respect he deserved.

TUESDAY

Despite the usual knowing grins from the assistants Nicole and Brooke, he spent a few productive hours in his office, sending Amanda some follow-ups regarding a few imminent events. He was careful to review everything several times before sending. She'd be sure to find a few mistakes, but if it were only a few, it would be alright.

Dana opened the door, once again without knocking. Taking a seat in front of him, her rear end on his desk, she grabbed him by the shoulders. She couldn't have looked more pleased.

"I've got fabulous news," she said, beaming, a finger to his chest. "This Friday. I'm taking you to have some fun with my friends. They wanted to see you right away and I told them that good things come to those who wait. Besides, I wanted to give them enough time to get their feet, well, nice and fragrant for you."

"It's OK," he said. "I don't think I can do it."

"We're not taking no for an answer," declared Dana. "Preparations have already begun. Besides, you'll have fun. Well, I hope you do. We ladies will be having a blast with you."

"I ..."

"Seriously Eric. I'm not taking no for an answer. It's happening. This Friday. We'll leave work early which should give us the entire evening to play."

"But ..."

Dana held a finger to his mouth. "You've had a rough week. I know. Adjusting is hard, and you being a boy in a woman's workplace, it's been challenging. It's been a little over your head, perhaps. Which is all the more reason to let go and let me and my friends enjoy you. And boy are they gonna enjoy you. What started as our core group of the five fearless femmes - the posse as we call ourselves - now has twelve commitments. Very enthusiastic commitments and everyone super thrilled about getting their feet ripe and sweaty."

"Please, I ..."

"You'll meet some of them this week. They really want to see you, though they'll have to wait until Friday to get their grabby hands on you. And they are super grabby, but I told you they're a lot of fun and love to joke around."

Eric almost felt a twinge of excitement at the prospect of many women grabbing him and feeling him up, but they were getting their feet filthy and nasty, as if it were what he wanted. Did she really think he preferred that?

"They don't have to get their feet smelly," he suggested, resigned to the meeting but hoping to make it more tolerable.

"But they want to. It's no trouble. Really. It's already happening, anyway. Believe me, they don't do anything they want to do, and when they've got a cute boy to play with, they do everything they want and they all love the idea of making you smell their feet. Trish told me she took her shoes off yesterday and said her feet were already getting pretty whiffy, and that's Monday. Imagine how they'll smell Friday and she's super excited about having you smell them. And she's like ... we do the coolest things. Why didn't we think of doing this to someone before?

Eric felt defeated. It was ridiculous, but would he have to avoid Dana on Friday? And what were the consequences if he did? Hadn't he been punished enough?

"It's gonna be wild," said Dana as she raised her leg, pulling up her pant leg to reveal her hosed leg and her heel. "Needless to say, I'll be wearing the same hose all week."

Getting to her feet, she gave Eric a few playful slaps to his cheek. "We'll help you loosen up. Teach you how to go with the flow. Which is my advice here. Stop fighting it and just have fun. We're enjoying you. Time you enjoyed it too."

Dana gave his butt a gentle pat before shimmying from the room, leaving Eric to wonder why he couldn't get a break. At least, he could avoid Val, the girls from accounting, not to mention the copywriters and interns, as he saw them lingering and chatting in the corridor.

He busily prepared for his afternoon meeting with Amanda, even skipping lunch, as he fired away emails, showing how proactive he could be.

Steph called him into Amanda's office with a smirk. He was fearful yet hopeful.

Closing the door behind him, he prepared to take a seat while Amanda busily typed at a keyboard.

"Don't sit down. Remain standing."

Eric froze, his hand to the chair.

"So," she said, slowly turning to face him, her gaze cold as she sized him up over her glasses. "I asked you to get me up to speed on your accounts. But it seems you couldn't even get straight which one was which. The case numbers are wrong, and I'm beyond disappointed. I thought you were ready to stand tall and proud and take your place here as one of us?"

"I ... I am," he stammered, upset about what could have gone wrong. He'd proofed everything.

"Not enough," she said, shaking her head. "Now drop your pants."

Eric flushed crimson as he observed Amanda scribble over a few letters he'd sent. They were covered in notes, even exclamation marks. How was it he'd failed to meet her standards?

"Well, I don't have all day. Drop your pants. And take off your shirt too while you're at it."

"Maybe I can retype some things. I'll do my best."

"I'll have to have you strip naked if you keep blathering on and on. Now take off your pants and shirt and shut up."

Nervous that someone might walk in, Eric hurriedly removed his pants and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Hurry up," she said as she gestured to the corner of the office. "And toss them over there."

"I'm really trying to do the best I can," he explained as he removed his shirt.


"Well, it's pathetic. But I need to remind myself you're just a boy trying to do a woman's job and failing miserably."

Standing before her in his dress socks and boxer briefs, he felt foolish, hoping the agony wouldn't be prolonged. Why did she want to humiliate him like this?

To Eric's surprise, Amanda pressed the intercom. "Steph, come in here please."

Eric turned to the corner and grabbed his pants, but Steph was quick to open the door, letting out a yelp of amused surprise.

"Put them down," Amanda told Eric. He dropped his pants.

"Have a seat here," she asked Steph.

"I told you to stand over there, Eric," said Amanda with a sigh. "Do these boys ever listen?" she asked Steph.

"No," said Steph with a chuckle.

Steph was seated in front of the desk, facing Eric. Her amusement at his embarrassment was evident.

"You remember all those reports we had to do," said Amanda. "Well that was his fault. Staying late Friday and Monday. His fault. Now what would you like him to do."

"Anything?" asked Steph, sizing Eric up.

"He imposed on your time too. He owes you. What do you want him to do?"

"Take off your shorts," said Steph with a chuckle.

Eric flushed red again. Clearly a line had to be drawn.

"You heard the lady," said Amanda as imperiously as ever. "Take 'em off."

The women were staring at him expectantly. But he couldn't do it.

"Am I going to have to invite someone else in here?" asked Amanda.

Eric quickly complied, pulling his shorts down to his ankles.

Steph giggled.

"Either you just went swimming, or you've got an especially small penis," noted Amanda, with a smirk.

Eric instinctively covered his privates.

"Hands behind your back, Eric," yelled Amanda. "What else Steph?"

"More?" asked Amanda with a mischievous smirk, clapping her hands gleefully. "Will he lick my shoes?"

"Tell him," said Amanda. "And Eric, drop to your knees in front of her."

Eric dropped to his knees, his eyes closed as he anticipated the worst. As she thrust the sole of her high heel over his forehead, she chuckled, sliding it over his face.

"Lick the sole," asked Steph decisively.

Eric held out his tongue, wanting his humiliation to be over. Steph pressed the sole of her shoe hard over his tongue, sliding her foot up and down and then switching shoes.

"How much do you respect him now?" asked Amanda of Steph.

"Not much at all," answered Steph with a snort of contempt.

"You see, Eric, what happens when you do substandard work? Our respect plummets until we just feel sorry for you."

"I don't feel sorry for him," said Steph. "He's kind of an idiot, I thought."