'Punished' for a Mistake at Work

I'd never been summoned to Lily Phillips' office before. I knew I was in serious trouble and no sooner had I shut the door behind me she wasted no time in reminding me.

"You know you messed up big-time, right?"

I knew, alright. I nodded. I'd got suppliers confused and almost had orders going to the wrong place which would have cost the company thousands of pounds had it not been picked up by a senior manager. I expected a bollocking, and probably a warning, even if the manager who sorted the issue out had been largely sympathetic. He seemed to understand that mistakes happen, and I'd done fine in the months previously.

Lily, however, was different. In every respect. In appearance, her tousled mid-length blond hair, manicured fingernails, and smart business attire. In her mannerisms, her straight-to-the-point delivery and ruthless decision-making left nobody in any doubt that she was the boss and it was always clear what she wanted. Or so I'd heard. This was my first encounter with the company's well-respected CEO.

"You must be punished. Do you understand?" she snapped.

I nodded again.

She flicked a switch and the blinds closed, making a whirring noise followed by a click as they reached their final position. Her eyes met mine and I could see her looking me up and down. I wondered what was coming next. She hadn't even asked me to sit down yet.

"I run a tight ship here. I don't like mess-ups. I haven't time for nonsense."

"Understood," I mumbled. "Look, I apologise for..."

"Shut up. I've heard it all before. This is simple: do as I say, follow my rules, and then fuck off."

Shocked, I did a double take, my widening eyes and quizzical look betraying my surprise.

Lily extended a hand and beckoned me towards her with one finger, the tiniest of smiles broaching her face. "On your knees, boy. You can be my footrest for a bit."

Down I went, obediently getting onto all fours and shuffling into position under her desk. How long would she leave me here? I could feel her scrape the heel of her black leather boots across my back before she settled her feet with her calves resting on the small of my back. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to look at her, not least because I like feet and didn't want her to have any idea that this might actually be quite fun.

Lily took a few phone calls and continued typing out emails, occasionally shuffling her feet, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her toned calves and wondered what was coming next. I didn't have to wait long.

"Right," Lily announced. "You see this heel?" She waved it in my face and motioned with a hand to swivel round so I was facing her.

I nodded. It was, I guessed, a good four inches long and tapered towards a point before flattening off. She gently moved it towards my face and whispered, "Suck it. Slowly. Make it nice and clean."

Was this how she garnered so much respect? By controlling her employees with her feet? Was she a dominatrix masquerading as a businesswoman? I busied my mind with questions for two reasons - first, I didn't much like the taste of her shoes, and second, if she was going to take this to another level, and get her boots off, this was going to start turning me on. And I didn't think she'd like that very much.

"Very good," she sneered as I sucked and licked her heel as I'd been told. "Now clean the other one. Now do you see why it's not a good idea to fuck up around here? Don't answer that. Just keep cleaning."

I like women who know what they want and the thought of a woman commanding me to worship her feet was a long-held fantasy, particularly those in a position of power. And make no mistake, Lily was in a position of power - both figuratively and literally - over her company and over me.

"Very good," she repeated. "I'm going to take off my boots now that they're clean." As she lent down both hands to slip off her boots, I wasn't sure if she was done with me yet or there was more to come.

She was wearing tights, but I could see her feet as she released them from her boots. She rubbed both as she removed them, revealing sparkly pink nail polish on her stubby little toes and beautifully smooth soles and heels. Clearly a woman who knows how to look after herself.

"Lie down on your back," she commanded, lifting her feet as she did so, allowing me a waft of her scent - the unmistakeable feety smell mixed up with a little sweat that usually drove me wild. Then she jammed her soles down on my face, covering my lips, nose and eyes and I got a noseful of that intoxicating smell. I'm in trouble here, I thought, I'm surely going to get an erection soon.

Lily was using me as a foot massager. She was scrunching and uncrunching her toes against my cheeks and rubbing her soles against my face. It felt weird. I felt like I was being beaten up but pleasured at the same time. Occasionally I screwed my face up a little, as I thought it was best to pretend that this was indeed a punishment and make her feel that I wasn't liking it very much.

"You're doing very well," she said, perhaps expecting me to have complained or tried to move away. Hadn't she told me to do as she said and not complain? Was she comparing me to others who'd been in my position? How often had this happened before?

Next, she moved one foot onto my chest, jamming the other onto my chin with her toes by my mouth. "Now you must lick my toes. Don't stop until I say so," she cackled.

Unable to move, I stuck out my tongue and licked whichever toe she chose to place in the vicinity of my mouth. She didn't keep still for long, so each toe got not much more than a fleeting glance of my tongue until she swapped feet and repeated the process.

At some point, perhaps because she was bored with that, or was distracted by something on her computer screen or phone, she slapped both of her feet onto my face, resting them there for a while, occasionally moving them around a little.

"Tongue out," she ordered, before dragging one sole slowly and forcefully over my outstretched tongue. I could hear her giggle quietly and sensed her toes curling as that action triggered an involuntary response - the first time during this whole experience that she'd hinted at anything other than resolute dominance and complete control.

If she had dropped her guard, it didn't take her long to pick it back up again and she was making orders again soon enough. She prodded my mouth with a big toe and jamming it inside she told me, "Suck it," as if she was telling a dog to drop its ball.

For a man with a foot fetish and a thing for older women, this was getting a bit tricky. For one thing, I was now getting very turned on, yet I was constantly fighting my feelings to avoid letting on. As I sucked her toes, my gut instinct was to close my eyes and revel in the moment, but I was having to restrain myself, and even do so in a way that suggested I was repulsed by what was happening. This was supposed to be a punishment, I had to kept reminding myself.

It was clear to me that she knew exactly what she was doing. Perhaps she was - or had been - a dominatrix in her private life. God! This was so frustrating. I wanted to reach out and massage her soles while sucking her toes, even to have her feet rub my cock but I knew that wasn't an option.

Lily moved on and with two toes of her right foot she pinched my nose, clasping it shut before guiding all five toes of her left foot into my mouth. Instinctively, I closed my lips and worked my tongue around them.

"That's it," she purred. "Put your tongue to work." As I almost gagged while flicking the underside of her foot with my tongue, I could feel my dick swelling in my trousers. If she knows I'm getting a kick out of this, I could be in even more trouble, I thought.

Whether because she'd got bored or she genuinely had other things she needed to get on with, she soon withdrew both feet and ordered me to get back up, leaning down to put her boots back on as she did so.

Unbeknownst to me, Lily had removed her glasses sometime previously. It wasn't until afterwards that I noticed her putting them back on as I left the room, suggesting that she'd probably had no idea of my facial expression or what was going on in my pants.

"Right," she said, sounding ever so slightly flustered, "We're done here. You've paid the price for your error and I trust it won't happen again. I'm not one for second chances."

"Understood," I said, red-faced - partly from embarrassment, partly from having been aroused by having this woman's feet in and around my face for the past half an hour or so.

"Oh, and if anyone asks, I gave you a verbal warning but no more. Do you understand?"

I understood perfectly well. It benefited nobody if I talked about it and such was her reputation for controlling every aspect of her business, I was pretty sure it would get back to her if I did.

Why would I bother, anyway? I'd made a mistake with those orders. She'd also made a mistake in how she'd handled me: the punishment didn't fit the crime.