The Hatred of Clarice Favreaux: The Story of My Senior Year

[John Blaze]

*Everyone in this story is fictitious and over 18 years olD!!


I - The Beginning

My name is Sam Smith This is my story. Every good story has a hero and a villain. And most good high school heroes have rivals. I’m not embarrassed to say my rival was a girl. I am, however, embarrassed to say,,, she bested me. And she didn’t best me in the manner that many high school rivals get beaten. She changed the course of my life. She destroyed my dreams and laughed in my face… leaving her footprint… quite literally… on my life forever.

Her name was Clarice Favreux. It all started when she transferred to my high school.. I was 18 and she was 19. I’m not sure why, but I think the school system is different in France. She was gorgeous. She was drop dead beautiful Five foot seven. Long brown hair. In fact she looked like a cross between Shannon Elizabeth and Jessica Biel. She had a slight French accent. Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the beauty, maybe it was the fact that every guy wanted to carry her books or give her a ride… but I could tell she thought she was better than everyone. The stuck up Frenchie!!

Anyway, many men started to hit on her and all were turned away. Usually with a smile, but still turned away. I figured she was after the best guy… the most popular man with the most to offer. That, by all accounts, would be me!! We went to a small high school. Most of the guys were destined to end up a either at the local car parts factory or working in My father’s car dealership! I was the high school athletic star… (all state quarterback, point guard for the basketball team, and track star in 3 events!!). Had straight As and my own car! I was destined for Harvard.. All my uncles, brothers, and my father went to Harvard. And I had the grades for it… 3.98 GPA. I had it all. I was even the captain of the debate team… 2 time state champs and I starred in at least 2 plays a year for the drama club! Yet… somehow… she resisted. She turned me down… twice. She must have been really snooty!

Anyway, so that’s not the worst part. Slowly at first.. Then more rapidly… she started impeaching on my turf. She joined the cheerleaders and quickly became one of the most popular girls in school. She then started to do the unthinkable… maneuver me out of my well defined turf. She joined the drama club and started to land leads…. I wasn’t doing any plays because of football season.. But she did three…. And soon was the teacher’s favorite actress. She joined the debate team… and actually she was really good. After a few debates there was a group who wanted her as captain. To settle it, the teacher had us debate one on one for the position. She trounced me … I think the topics were unfair to this day… but she trounced me and became captain of MY debate team. I was slowly starting to dislike this beautiful girl. I either needed to regain the upper hand, or claim her as my own to boost my falling status. Again I approached her, and again she shot me down. This time not so nicely…. In front of a group of her cheerleader friends… as I walked away I heard them giggling. That was it… we were now enemies in the truest high school sense. Since I couldn’t have her, I did what any young man in my position would do … I told everyone that she had sex with me. And did other really nasty things.. And … that I had a tape. I was convinced that was the end of her. .. I was wrong.. It was the beginning of the end of me!!!

II - The end of my athletic career:

When the big fall pep rally came, the rumor was in full effect with a life of its own. I was sitting high in the bleachers of the basketball gym before the pep rally with two of my football pals. The gym was completely empty except for us, as the rest of the school, was down at the football field for the first part of the pep rally before they came to the gymnasium for part two. She stormed in the gym. I must admit she looked really hot in her short cheerleader outfit. Her legs were thick and athletic and she wore low top white cheerleader sneakers with no socks. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, exposing her truly perfect face. She saw us sitting at the top of the bleachers and came running over and up to where we were. She was really angry and it was all over her face.

“Did you tell everyone we slept together?,” she asked in her cute French accent.
“Yes… cause we did”.. I said.. Almost laughing in her face.
She didn’t even answer me. She just hauled off and slapped me… HARD. The sound echoed through the empty gym. My two buddies walked away giggling under their breath to wait for me outside the gym.
“Handle your girl trouble bro” was all they said. When they had walked down the stairs and out of the gym, I addressed her.
“So.. If it’s a lie, what are you gonna do?”
She hauled off and slapped me again. Two times? Oh hell no! I stood up in anger to face her.
“Stop that!” I said
“You must tell everyone it’s a lie!”
“Screw you, you French bitch!”
She then said something about training and the art of Savate. I would later learn what that meant and that she was well versed in this “Savate“… or French Kickboxing. I wish I knew that then.
I started towards her.. I was only going to grab her. She got startled and launched a kick right at my groin. Her foot hit the target and I crumpled forward with pain. As I was bent over, she launched a straight front kick, and the sole of her sneaker smashed my face. I started to loose my balance and reached out to grab anything I could. My quick reflexes caught her foot and as I was falling sideways I pulled on her leg to try and save my balance. With both hands on her shoe I was still falling, and she was coming with me. As she lost her balance too, she plopped down on a bleacher bench and held on with both hands as I pulled with all of my weight to regain the upper hand in my battle with gravity. All of this must have taken 20 seconds, but it seemed like an eternity playing out in slow motion. She solidified her grip and sat firmly in place while my hands slipped on her shoe. I squeezed as hard as I could and looked up at her face. I can’t be sure.. It all happened so fast… but I swear she looked me in the eye and smiled. Then, she let her foot relax and straightened her leg. She white sneaker slipped off of her foot and I fell backwards… with her shoes in my hand and my last view was her smiling face and the smooth sole of her outstretched foot as I fell backward. I smacked my head into the bleachers and tumbled roughly down the steps… seemingly hitting each one with some part of my body as I fell. I remember slamming hard into the wood gymnasium floor and cracked my tooth. I also snapped my arm in two places and twisted my knee. As I lay there in excruciating pain I heard her come trotting down the stairs. She calmly walked over to where I was laying helpless and said triumphantly… “you shouldn’t have lied” She stepped full weight on my face with her bare foot as she walked over my prone, broken body. I remember her sole mashing my battered face harder into the ground. I also remember her foot leaving a sweaty spot on my face, but I was in too much pain to move and wipe it away. That truly felt disgusting and degrading! She stepped on my head, as I lay there in white hot pain, like I was a turd in the street.
With that, she picked up her shoe and walked off. My athletic days were done. I’d later lie and say that I fell on my own… that I slipped out of the bleachers… but the truth was that this woman had stolen my athletic future and thought nothing of it. Not even a check to see if I needed help… she just stepped on my face and went on her business leaving me there for my teammates to find… or the crowds that would arrive any minute… whichever came first.

With that, the cycle had come to completion… I now hated Clarice like I had hated nothing before or since then. I would get her back… or so I thought.


III - Drama club…

So.. After that episode, my season as done. I walked with a limp for weeks and wore a cast for months. My football team went on to loose the rest of their games… many of them blaming me for being careless and “slipping”! How could I ever tell them the truth? Many colleges who wanted me to play sports stopped recruiting me. She truly had taken away aspects of my future and many of what could have been my fond memories of my senior year! She stepped on my possibilities like she had stepped on my face!

But it got worse..

Now that she was clearly the better debater and the captain, she got to shine in that regard too. Harvard wanted a well rounded student and I was now no longer the captain of the b\debate team, or the star athlete. She had erased several of my unique factors.. Stolen them… in fact, she was getting recruited as a debater!!! At debate practice she would ignore me.. Except one day when she stepped on my shoe. I shot her a nasty look and said “excuse you…”
She smiled back at me and said” Sorry.. At least it wasn’t your face”
The nerve of this girl! And as for the drama club, she landed 3 starring roles in a row, and I was delegated to a stage hand due to my limp and my a\cast! Another aspect scratched from my resume‘ !! Then… the last insult! The drama teacher said that Clarice needed a personal assistant for her wardrobe since she had so many costume changes for the big school production! One of Clarice’s cheerleader friends who was also in the play, suggested I do it ..since I really couldn’t do much else. So it was… I became her personal wardrobe assistant. I got her clothes and organized her things for the play. I even changed her shoes for her when she was in the one costume v\because it restricted her movement! She loved my role… ordering me about. I would have quit , but I needed to at least put the drama club on my application to Harvard, if not as the star actor… at least as a member. I hated having to help her at all… do you have any idea of how it feels to serve someone you HATE!!! Who ruined your life….

But I especially hated changing her shoes. She would always plop down in her chair between scenes and lift her feet fore me as I knelt. I struggled with her laces and buckles.. depending on her shoes.. because of my cast. When I finally got her sneaker off I would see her perfectly formed foot.. Complete with perfect French pedicure. Every time I saw her feet, I thought back to that day when I looked up at her smooth sole as I fell to my doom! Her smiling face… and then… how she stepped on me with that foot as I lay there broken. As I changed her shoes it was a constant reminder. She usually came straight from cheerleader practice and her feet were usually slightly rank! I hated being forced to smell her feet!! One day I made the mistake of mentioning this. After that, each day she would make it a point to lift her foot to my face as I kneel there and wiggle her toes in my face as I changed her shoes. The smell was always just strong enough to bother me, but never so strong that anyone else would complain. The sweaty smell of her feet, formerly contained in her sneakers without socks during practice, would hit my nostrils each day. A reminder of my falling stock… a little more humiliation each day which she delighted in. Smiling in my face and making comments like “Oooh it feels good to let me feet breathe.. I’d hate to smell them up close. Oh, sorry Sam.”

The last night of the production, it truly hit me. Each night she had gotten a standing ovation at the curtain call. I used to be the star actor in many plays.. Now, like my athletic career… that was gone!
When it came time to change her shoes this night it all hit me… I knelt before her as usual and started to change her shoes. The gravity of how she had hijacked my senior year hit me like a ton of bricks as I stared at this arrogant bitch’s feet! Then, I thought I’ll show her. I temporarily lost my mind… engulfed in rage! Grabbed her ankles and was just about to twist it with al of my might… when I heard Mr. Jones walk directly behind me… Clarice noticed the look in my eyes and realized I had snapped… she didn’t panic. She acted quickly and with decisive action.
“Oh how nice…” she said loud enough for Mr. Jones, our drama instructor to hear. “Sam … you are so sweet to want to massage my feet! How did you know those shoes hurt so bad!”
Mr. Jones walked over and said “That’s right Sam… take care of our little French star.” He had fallen for it… he looked down at me with admiration for my good intentions. I was on the spot…. What to do? I sucked it up and started massaging her feet as Mr. . Jones stood there. He watched at first… and then went back to directing the play from backstage… but he never moved… he stood right next to me and did his thing. Therefore, I had to massage her feet… what would I say? “ No! I was actually going to try to break your ankle?”

She had defeated me again! I just sat there.. On the floor in front of her and massaged her feet. She could hardly contain herself! She looked me dead in the eyes as I slowly, and shamefully, massaged her feet. The woman who had ruined my life, stolen my debate team, gotten all the glory of the spotlight at the biggest play of the year, and made me her personal assistant. I massaged her feet as she smile directly into my face. For the next five minutes, Mr. Jones didn’t move… so I just admitted defeat and rubbed her feet. They were soft and well kept despite her cheerleading. The were also moist… her feet sweat easily. She eventually leaned her head back and relaxed as I kneaded away.. Why I would be expected to massage her feet with a broken arm is beyond me… but it seemed perfectly normal to Mr. Jones… and to Clarice. At first, the smug loom on her face said it all! The satisfaction of having outwitting me again was almost more than she could contain. She smiled at me as I struggled to massage her feet. But then… the fact that it actually felt nice took over.. And the expression changed to one of complete physical pleasure. This infuriated me even more… she took double pleasure in my defeat. The mental and the physical. I couldn’t contain it… the rage, the horrible sting of defeat mixed with humiliation… my eyes welled up! I tried to fight back the tears.. I really did… but I could not! Silent fury engulfed me as tears started to run down my face. She had her eyes closed.. Enjoying the massage. Then, Mr. Jones signaled that she had 1 minute. She looked down at me and signaled for her shoes… than… she saw my face. That was it… that was the moment when she realized she had broken me. She smiled a very content smile… and said to me in an almost whisper… “don’t cry…”
Then.. The next humiliation…

She lifted her foot and used her bare toes to wipe away m tears… I was in such shock at her audacity, I don’t move or resist for a few seconds. Then it hit me… what she was doing… I slapped her foot away as she giggled.

“Mr. Jones heard the commotion and simply said quietly… and naturally like it was the most ordinary thing… “Hurry up and put her shoes on… she is up next!!!”

“Yes, Sam…” she added with a smile, lifting both soles to my eye level.. The slightly dusty bottoms of her feet grazing my nose… “put my shoes on”

Defeated again.. I complied.

She went on to give another stellar performance… while I watched from backstage. Another standing ovation… another stinging defeat. A loss to my rival… the hatred grew.


IV - Finally Revenge… Final Defeat???

The rest of the year went on. In every way I tried to be “the man”. Usually, the best I could muster in my school was #2... To Clarice. Her grades were better, she got the most valuable debater award for the debate team…and award I had won every year….the cheerleading team won the state championships while all of my teams suffered losing seasons without me… thanks to her, .. And she won the best lead actor or actress w\award, another award that I had won every year!! What made it worse, was I guess I had been a jerk when I was “the man” because so many people seemed to enjoy my fall. I was slowly becoming a laughing stock.


Then, the final insult…Harvard slipped right through my fingers. I only got into a few state colleges. Clarice, aided by all of the accolades and activities she stole from me… got into every school she applied to…. Including Harvard!

That was it! My dad all but disowned me! My life was effectively over!!! Clarice, knowing how important Harvard was to me, photocopied her acceptance letter and left it taped to my locker. She wrote in… “Maybe I’ll need a foot rubber at Harvard.. Do you ant the job” The shame from that night, all those weeks ago, s\when I was reduced to tears… rubbing the feet of this v\creature I hated and the rest of the school adored… in a self debasing act of defeat….being reduced to tears… after being kicked down the stairs to what would be the start of my doom… and being reduced to tears….all the emotions were being thrown in my face by the woman who stole my dreams!!!

All I could think of was revenge! And revenge in a big way! I plotted for weeks! It had to be big… it had to be bad… and it had to be public!!! PROM!!! I would get her at prom!!! But how??

I plotted and plotted… I would do all of the things that she did to me! First, I’d kick her dates ass in front of her now that my arm was healed!! I’d make her kneel to me… beg for mercy… massage my feet…then I would urinate on her!!! YES!! In public!!! And to make things better… she was going back to France the next day!!! Could you believe it… she took Harvard from me and she wasn’t even going to go!!! That would be the last time she’d see me… the last laugh!!!

I plotted and plotted how to do it with no interruptions! I had an intricate plot. At the right time my football buddies would start a commotion, get all the teachers away… then I would pounce!! I might get expelled… but boy… would it be worth it!!!


Everything on prom night went according to plan. I knew she would be prom queen… so I figured that would be the perfect moment… when all eyes were on her. She looked beautiful as she went onstage to get her crown! She wore a dark blue evening gown with no sleeves and most of her back out. She had sheer stockings on and 6 inch slip on stilettos. Right after she was crowned, I set the plan in motion… it was easy. There were only a hand full of teachers. My buddies easily got them outside with some ruckus. Then I struck.

I ran up on stage and yelled at her… “I’ve been waiting for this forever!!! This moment has consumed me… you will beg me for forgiveness from you knees!!” Her date tried to step up to me but I pounded him three times in the face and tossed him offstage! Wow… that was impressive… I was getting my mojo back… I looked at her face… still wearing the tiara she had just won. Her face wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated as I expected… just angry. I had finally stolen a moment from her… for a change! She looked at her date, bleeding on the floor. Boy… I really wish I knew what that Sabate shit was… maybe I would have seen the next thing coming!!!

I have no idea how she did this with her dress on… must have been the slit allowed for some movement. But her foot came out of nowhere… FST. The sole of her shoe slammed into my right eye… I stumbled back and before I could regain composure .,… another one. I fell face first at her feet. Dazed!

She grabbed my arm, twisted it up and placed the sole of her shoe on my temple… her heel pressing into my cheek… almost cutting my skin. The crowd…s hocked at first.. Started to cheer. As she twisted my arm and applied pressure with her foot on my face… I couldn’t believe it…was this happening… on stage… at prom. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw her face. The look of anger was gone. Now, she had that smirk I was all to used to. The.. “I got you” look. She was in control. I started to hear the laughter from the crowd.

How had this happened…. My last triumphant moment to be… the only chance at self respect I had left… stolen … like everything else… by Clarice…

She looked down at me and whispered… “Let’s have some fun… no?” in her French accent. “Let’s finally show everyone your place…


To be concluded!

[John Blaze]

My place??? The audacity of this woman!! With her shoe on my face... with my life ruined already... what was my place in her mind???
It became all to clear.
"Lick my shoe" she said. This was the moment of truth... with the entire senior class watching... what would I do? The foot that was on my face slowly slid down so that her sole was pressing against my lips. Defiantly, I tried to turn way.. but the position I was in made that all but impossible. She started to turn my arm and apply pressure... the same arm that was barely healed! I felt the old injury about to resnap.. panic flushed my brain... my spirit was failing... I didn't want anymore pain...I stuck out my tongue... and ran a slow lick up the bottom of her shoe. Those who could see me do this groaned in disgust. They weren't many. Clarice let my arm go and lifted her foot a few w\feet off of the ground... "again" she said in her sexy French accent.
This time it was high enough so everyone could see... and this time she let go of my arm. I struggle to my knees... and now, in front of everyone... I was faced with the option of getting my ass kicked in front of everyone.. (I was now convinced she could whip me badly if she wanted too... that that day on the bleachers was no fluke) ... or, of my own free will, licking her shoe!

I chose option two... I knew, at that moment, what complete and utter mental defeat felt like. I was a broken man. With both hands holding her foot, on my knees in front of the entire senior class at prom... I licked her foot! Running my tongue up her expensive shoe sole!! The crowd erupted in a reaction mixed with shock, disgust, and delight!

Clarice raised her hands in triumph and I began to weep. Weeping at my defeat... the way in which this, what was to be the revenge to salvage my senior year was turned into my worst defeat and humiliation... weeping that I was so weak... how did that happen... weeping at the fact that she truly was better than me... for an entire year she had bested me and caused me shame... and now this was the culmination.. at , literally, her coronation!

Do you have any idea what it is to plot revenge for weeks.. only to have the person you hate most completely humiliate you.. at what was to be your finest hour? I hope you never know!!!

Anyway... I couldn't bring myself to look at her face. Her smug and condescending look... with that damn tiara. Voted prom queen! Reducing me to her personal shoe cleaner. So I just focused on her foot... licking her shoe... crying.

Somebody gave her a chair, and she sat down on stage. She slipped her nylon covered feet out of her slip on heels and held her feet at my face, soles grazing my nose like she did all those nights at the play rehearsals. The slightly rank smell invading my nostrils... the deja vu was killing me!!! But what came next was new!

"lick my feet.. peasant" she laughed, reveling in her triumph and glory. I just stared at her feet, with a dumb look on my face! Tears in my eyes. She was laughing hysterically, wiggling her feet in my face. A chant started up... slowly at first... and then louder... "lick her feet! lick her feet!"

I truly had no friends here!!!

"Obey your queen boy!" she laughed from her pseudo thrown. Her French accent made me think of Marie Antoinette... This was surely worse than any offense she had ever done... and she was killed !!

I silently prayed that my friends would stop distracting the teachers... they were the only way I saw out of this. Beaten and broken, with nor teachers in sight... I extended my tongue. Pressing it against her damp, sweaty nylons... I licked her sole with one long lick from heel to the base of her toes. She erupted in laughter... louder than before.. delighting in my complete degradation. "Hold my feet, boy! I grow tired" Now, she exaggerated her accent... infuriating me even more... Goodness, that accent was annoying!! Nonetheless, I held her feet by the heels and licked up and down he soles. They tasted like wet salt and I almost gagged several times! Then, the camera flashes started!! This would be my high school legacy?

It must have really felt good because she closed her eyes and rested her head back... she was almost moaning a relaxing moan. As I licked her soles, she just kept wiggling her feet as if it tickled... and then... she slipped her toes into my mouth! The crowd again moaned in disgust/delight.

"You are a talented man! I'm glad I met you! My feet will forever be grateful!" She giggled at her little comment and the closed her eyes again. She wiggled them around in my mouth and although I was disgusted, I ran my tongue as if on cue under her toes. When she spread them, I took that as my cue to go in-between them. I couldn't fully get in-between them due to her stockings, but I tried! They tasted AWFUL!!! Yet I didn't stop... it's almost like I was hypnotized or something. I never stopped crying. It was never enjoyable.. and the shame never went away ever... She had destroyed my life in many ways... but this, I would never recover from... I would never understand why I let her do this to me... why I was so beaten and afraid.

She never stopped to wonder why... she just kept smiling... laughing directly in my face as I abased myself. Then, she grabbed the microphone...and addressed me and the crowd.

"My little friend is so sweet to me, no? He makes my feet feel nice! But he lied before. Sam, did we ever have sex?"
"No" I mumbled into the mike with her toes still in my mouth.
"Then why did you say that?"
I was too beaten and embarrassed to even answer. I sobbed big sobs into the microphone... how long could this last? was this a dream?

She put the mike down, satisfied that she had cleared her name. Then she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, as I still sucked her toes, what I already knew...

"Tomorrow, I leave for France. You will never see me again. But you will never recover from this... you will always remember the taste of my feet and the humiliation you feel! Oh.. and by the way... I was breaking up with that guy tonight anyway... he was a jerk." With that she even stole my only "victory" of the night.

She pulled her toes from my mouth and planted the sole of her foot on my face. With a forceful thrust, she sent me back, off the stage landing next to her date on the floor. I curled up in the fetal position and cried... my face smelled like her feet.. my mouth tasted like her feet... my senior year was left trampled under her feet... my self esteem was forever gone!

She walked down off of the stage and walked up to me... she stepped on my face, and walked over me... just as she had in the gym months before. She dropped her shoes on my face and said over her shoulder "to remember me by!"

And just like that, she was out of my life. Never to see her again... never to get revenge!! She had completely won!!!

I never got into any top schools or played sports again. I wet to a local community college and flunked out. I wound up at my dad's car dealership doing a mundane job because my brothers ran the place... I made decent money as a member of the family business, but would never escape the stigma of that night in this small town.

The pictures from that night were all over tube within a few days, and I had to keep fighting to get them pulled. As late as 5 years later, women who had gone to high school with me
"many of which I jilted" would walk into the car dealership and offer to buy a car if I licked their feet.. then they'd laugh at me and leave... this was fun for them.

I hate Clarice Fraveux!! She destroyed my life! And from miles and miles away... she dominates my nightmares.. I still flashbacks to that year... that night. How did I loose so badly?

[Eddie08]

May Jessica Biel read this, take the script to her agent, and a film then follow, so we can all enjoy this story more visually. Thanks for sharing. Great sadistic babe!

[LuvsHerHeels]

terrific story...thanks so much for writing it.
hope you write others in the future.

[stivalo]

i'm only at chapter two.
until now it's great. i'll keep reading!

[furbello83]

That was a masterpiece!
Thank you very much for this story!

[John Blaze]

Chapter 2: The Hatred of Clarice Favreaux - The Cruelty of Fate

Ten years had passed since that fateful night at senior prom and time, as it always must, went on. A senior year in high school for many aspiring students can be some of the best times of their lives. For Clarice Favreaux, it was a really nice catapult to what would be a tremendously fulfilling and rewarding professional and personal span of prosperity.

For Sam Smith it signified a something very different.


Her life

After high school, Clarice returned to France as expected. She attended one of the most prestigious colleges around and , just as she did in high school, took part in a great many social and student events. She graduated at the top of her class and made it into Harvard business school. She traveled back to the states to complete her MBA, which she did by again finishing at the top of her class. The pick of any job was hers for the taking. She got a semi high level corporate job back in France and quickly rose through the ranks. Now, at age 29, she had reached the level of senior vice president. A feat generally unheard of for someone of her age at such a large prestigious company. She remained fiercely competitive and confident, but was approachable and pleasant to those around her. As long as she was not crossed, she was the nicest woman in the world. The few who had crossed her had found themselves out of work or remained in lowly positions. She had a knack for doing that to people… a trait she had discovered that senior year of high school.

Recently, her company had bought out a major parts distributor in the US. She, and 3 other VPs had gotten the task of turning this underperforming company around. The position, though one of pressure, came with a major bump in pay and stock! Her total compensation would now rank her among the highest paid corporate executives in the industry… man or woman. Yes life has been good to her… but after all she earned it!!

To celebrate, her company sent her to Cannes for the film festival and a weekend retreat at a world class spa. While at the red carpet, she had finally seen this Jessica Biel woman, who everyone was always comparing her to. She could somewhat see the resemblance. On the last day of the retreat, she relaxed in her white silk robe, laying n a bed of fluffy pillows as a handsome muscle-bound masseuse rubbed her feet. He was intently running his fingers in-between her toes as he simultaneously kneaded her soles. As all the days tensions melted away, Clarice thought of how sensitive her feet were and how great this felt. She looked down at his hands working on her tanned, perfectly pedicured toes (she had gotten her favorite French pedicure treatment the day before by the pool).

The truth is, she rarely thought of Sam Smith. In her busy life, he barely warranted much time. But she was grateful for the lessons she learned about herself in high school. And as she looked at her feet this was one of the times her thoughts went to him….

Her Perspective

[As she looked at her feet her thoughts wandered….]

I love my feet. I know many people think that feet are ugly, but I love my feet. I think I have very attractive feet. Thanks to this life that I’m fortunate to live, they are almost always soft and well maintained. Not even my high heels seem to ruin them… my toes are even and perfectly symmetrical, with my second toe the longest by just a bit on each foot. The funny thing is, I never knew how sensitive they were or how much I loved to have them get attention until senior year of high school.

But when that guy.. Sam, I think…

[she always remembered him as “that guy“.. He truly was inconsequential. Amazing that even as he was consumed with her beating her, exacting revenge, she only saw him as an obstacle to stepped on and smushed for challenging her and spreading those lies!]

Was forced to rub my feet… that was my first foot massage ever. Wow… I never knew my feet were so sensitive until that very moment! I guess I should thank him for my weekly pedicures! [she chuckled to herself] Oh, and what a jerk he was!! I learned a lot that year….about myself… about my strength… and about the pleasure I find in winning. I still remember how furious I was that he was spreading lies about him! I knew he was arrogant and cocky and had mistreated some of my good friends form the cheerleader squad…. But to blatantly lie about me like that!

I an still feel the anger I had when I confronted him in the gym! Oh.. But the look on his face after I kicked his ass and let him fall … as he tried to hold on to my shoe! That’s when I first got a glimpse of what I was capable of to really hurt someone… physically, but more so mentally. To crush someone’s ego… their dreams!

I remember when he lay there broken on the ground.. How I really didn’t feel for him. I just wanted to show him how little I thought for him….I wanted to do something real disrespectful. I just thought about how to add insult to injury. I looked down at my bear foot, glistening with sweat from the cheerleader rehearsal…

So I stepped on his face! I stepped on his face and walked over him like some garbage! I was surprised at how triumphant that felt!
[even all these years later, that empowering moment… the moment in which Clarice realized how far she could go to exact revenge… brings a wide smile to her face!]

I guess if I had to change one thing, that would be it…I wouldn’t want my feet to sweat so much. They always have sweat a little more than I’d like. But that did come in handy to torment him. [again she chuckled to herself]

It wasn’t until much later that I realized how much my day to day actions…things I was just doing to be me.. really tormented him! My being captain of the debate team, my starring in the school plays…

It truly is amazing that he hated and concentrated on me so much…and I thought of him so little. I guess if someone beat me out for all my favorite activities it would bother me too. But, once someone told me how he felt… I never missed an opportunity to rub his face in it! And, oh goodness, when he had to be my assistant for the play.. Ha! Classic. Getting my clothes ready, getting me drinks…and he had to change my shoes… I can’t even imagine… knowing now how much he hated me! Its hilarious! I took some joy in it too… coming straight from cheerleader practice and having him take the sneakers off of my sweaty feet! It felt good when the cool air would hit my hot feet! I still remember the look of frustration and disgust when I would wiggle my smelly toes in his face as he changed my shoes into the ones for the play. I never told anyone, but the costume wasn’t THAT constricting… I could have done it myself, but to miss that chance … no way!!!

Then there was the day.. When he had just about enough of me! I still don’t know what he was going to do to me when he grabbed my ankles… he had that crazed look in his eyes. But I turned it on him… HA! And he wound up rubbing my feet!! And that was it! At first it was just the satisfaction of turning the tables on him… yet again… but then, it really did feel great! I was hooked on foot massages for life!!! And when he cried…oh the satisfaction…I wiped the tears away … WITH MY FOOT… and made him finish changing my shoes! Disrespecting him came so naturally!

And if the foot massage felt great… prom was like heaven. My night was perfect… except for the jerk I was with. I was prom queen, going back to France… all was great! Then this fool tried to pull some nonsense one last time. He interrupted my moment in the sun… and then forever became the best part of that moment! He really did beat poor Jim pretty bad though.. too bad. But at least I didn’t really like him much.

I would later learn from a friend how badly Sam wanted to publicly humiliate me. How he plotted for weeks… how he really had some nasty plans for me… oh well! When I kicked his ass and put my high heel on his face… in front of the crowd… I wonder what was going through his mind… seeing his master plan that consumed him so crumble and turn into his final public defeat and humiliation? Cruel irony that no teachers were there to help him,, as I would later be told, by his own design.

I don’t claim to be a psychologist. Business is my expertise… but I remember looking in his face and just knowing… his spirit was broken. Then he proved it… with little resistance he licked my shoes… on stage… at prom! How far could I take it? I had to find out… so of course I made him lick my feet. They, as usual, were pretty sweaty. I had been dancing very hard all night. The heels made them sore too…the absolute ecstasy of watching him hold my feet and lick away was matched only by the phenomenal sensation that the licking gave my aching feet… soothing them in new ways and proving once and for all how sensitive they are!! As great as it felt, there was nothing really sexual about it… but I sweat the rush of power, the sense of vindication, the great feeling on my feet… when I shoved my toes in his mouth and wiggled them all around… then… he started sobbing so loudly in a display of complete and utter destruction of ego… I nearly creamed myself. It’s a shame I took all of this for him to finally admit he lied. Although, having him cry the truth into the microphone with my toes in his mouth made it all worth while.

How else could I have ended our saga then how it began.. So of course I kicked him off stage and, just as I had all those months before.. I stepped on his face like some trash as I walked off … leaving him broken on the ground. It was a nice touch dropping my shoes on his face if I say so myself!

I remember how I watched the video on you tube, there were several that people had posted from their camera phones! Watching myself sitting on stage while he licked my feet.. I looked so content! Indeed I was.

But that entire year taught me how I could destroy my enemies with little effort. And in the most disrespectful ways! Like I said, I really didn’t know how much my success tormented him… especially the Harvard piece… until people told me. But every chance I got, I truly rubbed his nose in it. That note I left on his locker after I got into Harvard and her didn’t.. priceless! Just as I had stepped on his broken body in the gym, and just as I had stepped on his face as I walked out of his life..I had stepped on his dreams and aspirations.. Crushing his athletic career and college dreams beneath my shoe… and loved it.


Funny thing is… as much as I enjoyed the physical sensation of having my feet licked. It never did anything for me sexually on it’s own. Many a boyfriend tried… after all, like I said I have beautiful feet.

BUT.. when the humiliation factor was added … or when I felt pretty snotty about myself on certain days, pretending the man doing it was my lowly servant… the power rush combined with the physical pleasure to really make my day!

It became one of my favorite acts of revenge or at least to put a man in his place. Many a boy in college who tried to get in my pants was talked into licking my toes only to realize that’s all he would ever get. Then there was that one drunk jerk at the bar at Harvard. Boy.. The look on his friends faces when I waited for him to be stumbling drunk, kneed him I n the balls and wiped the mud from my shoes in his face… But none ever gave me as much joy as those times my senior year… because none of them hated me so.. So none of them were broken like that Sam guy.

But those are all stories for another time!

[With that the man massaging her feet snapped her out of her thoughts by informing her he was finished. She noticed him staring at her feet and then he commented on how nice they were…This was one of those times when Clarice was feeling mischievous… she tested the waters…

Lifting her foot to his face she slowly parted his lips with her big toe.. She kept sliding her foot forward into his mouth until he was virtually eating her foot. His face looked bewildered… she was so confident to do this to him… he was not a foot man… but she was so beautiful… maybe he could get some sex from her if he pleased her… he didn‘t know her very well!! He spent the next 40 minutes licking her feet thoroughly as she smiled and leaned back for her “extended massage“. When he was finished, she slipped her foot out of his mouth and petted him on the head like a dog. As he searched for what to say, she tipped him… a mere $5 for the extra 40 minutes of her tongue-toe cleaning and walked out smiling from ear to ear. Men… how much fun they were!}


His Life

Senior year was a major turnaround for Sam. Heading into that year, the world was at his feet. A promising athletic career, great prospects to attend Harvard (4th generation), any girl he wanted… but Clarice stole all that!

He didn’t do much with his life in the next seven years! He was in a constant state of depression, reminded all the time of his failures by his successful brothers at work. He would often just go to the Harvard website… and disappointedly read about the school that rejected him… how his life would have been different if he never met Clarice… how he would’ve been there…at Harvard where he belonged! He’d probably be very successful right now!

Then… it happened… another cruel twist of fate… another insult! On the Harvard business school web page he saw a link that read “Student rocks school with what many are calling the most innovative business project in 20 years”. When he clicked the page… there she was…… holding a trophy, shaking the hands of the president of the university… Clarice Favreaux!! Smiling.. Looking as happy as anyone he had ever seen! She did go there after all! She went as a grad student… and took the school by storm…his final failure complete!! Her victory… years later… miles away… continued.

That was it… as he started to tear up looking at the screen, he knew he needed a new life!


His Perspective

I never lost at anything… but I lost to her over… and over… and over… and she enjoyed it! My torment… my humiliation…I could never outwit her! She stole all my accolades, broke my body - stealing my athletic future….and publicly reduced me to her foot rubbing, toe licking sidekick!! A prop in the play that was her triumphant and spoiled life!

I never fully understood what she did to my psyche… how she broke my spirit and reduced my self esteem to the point where my best option was to publicly lick her feet like a dog… with no resistance!!

How do you hate someone so much it consumes you… only to repeatedly lose? The effects on my life carried for so long it almost killed my spirit!

But seeing her on the screen that day… stealing my dream… haunting me still… was a catalyst to retake my life.

Eventually I left my father’s car dealership. I couldn’t take it anymore… I needed to leave this small town… get away from the stigma...the memories. But I could never escape the memories. I wake up at night from time to time in a cold sweat… the taste of her salty, sweaty feet fresh in my mouth.. Her giggling in my ears.. Her smiling, condescending face laughing at me… and the crowd chanting and loving every minute! This happens at least once a month!! I can never forget!!!

But at least I pulled myself up by my bootstraps. I left town. Got a job at a parts factory. It was hard work, but with some time I was promoted to floor manager. My confidence and self a\esteem were coming back. With a little more work and a few breaks, I was elevated to plant operating director of efficiency. I was moving fast.. People said nobody moved that fast around here!

I had corrected my life.. After years of moping around and feeling sorry for myself.. I was back!!! She had not defeated me after all..

Fate’s Cruelty Revealed

It was only my fourth month in my new position when the buy out happened! We were bought by some foreign company and everyone was scared. All the talk was layoffs and shutdowns. Top people were really scared, as well as the low level guys! I didn’t know what to expect, but my record was very good so far! Productivity and everything was up under me… I felt confident I would be kept!

For the next several months small changes were made and communicated via conference call. A few top people were let go. As I expected, I was kept!! Me and another director at the factory. Her name was Regina and we didn’t really get along. We didn’t see eye to eye much on everything. I chalked it up to the fact that she was young, female, and black. I knew that meant she felt like she had to outperform the world… and I don’t think she thought I respected her much. Hot chick though, kinda looked like that actress… Halle Berry. One perk I rubbed in her face was my new phone. My position got the latest gadgets and she all but drooled over my phone. It was the best feeling… to have something over her head! It was so high tech, a little delicate… but incredibly high tech.

Anyway, the new boss would pick one of us to run the plant. We would both report directly into the new VP… who, finally, was coming to visit in another month. After some time, the new boss would pick one of us to run the plant. The other would likely be let go or given a lower position.

For the next few weeks I drove everyone crazy preparing for the VP’s visit. All I knew was that the person was young and had a reputation for being really good and really stern! They didn’t take no crap! I found it odd that nobody had spoken with the new boss yet, but whatever!

Finally, the day had arrived. The plant was in tip top shape. The boss had visited another plant about 40 miles away. As I anxiously waited for the VPs arrival, I phoned my buddy at the other plant to get the scoop. I lefty a message, to no avail.

“The car is here…” Regina said as she went downstairs to welcome the new VP. I had some brownie points in my mind. A prepared hand written note in a beautiful welcome card… I grabbed it from my desk and I followed her down the stairs to the front of the building.

We watched from the sidewalk as the black Rolls Royce pulled up slowly. The windows were tinted black and I couldn’t see anything.


The driver got out of the car and walked around to open the back door…

My cell phone rang… do I answer it.. Who is it…my buddy with the scoop… only got a few seconds…

I picked it up “make it quick”

“She’s not what we expected…”

She? Hmm…it’s a woman!

“OK”

“She’s real intense… nice but intense…

“OK”

“Real hot chick though… looks like that actress…. Jessica Biel”

A small pang in my stomach…

The driver opens the door and a perfectly pedicure foot, encased in an incredibly expensive looking strappy high heeled shoe outstretches from the car … the foot is attached to a very athletic bare leg.

“French name…” my friend continued

The other foot extends…

“Favreaux… French I think…MBA type from Harvard”


I turned three shades of white… I must have looked awful.. Like I saw a ghost because Regina made a crazy face at me.

I dropped my phone.. It hit the ground and bounced over towards Regina’s feet. She kicked it away.. That bitch.. And it came to a stop right in front of the VPs feet.

She stood up out of her car. She wore a beautiful pin striped skirt suit. As she turned to walk towards me, I watched in slow motion as her foot slowly came down on my phone…

CRUNCH…

She didn’t notice….how could she not have noticed… all the feelings came rushing back… her foot … crushing my pride and joy… how familiar. Regina chuckled… I watched, pale as a ghost, as she continued towards us and shook our hands… she said some polite words and walked off … Regina walked with her….

She didn’t notice me? She didn’t recognize me? Was that good or bad… good for now I guess.

I looked down… I had dropped my card. It lay on the sidewalk… of course… her soiled footprint from her expensive shoe covered the envelope…

Was there nothing of mine this woman didn’t crush beneath her foot.

“Come on” Regina gestured

I moved to catch up… fate had a cruel sense of humor…. I guess I’d see what it had in store now…

To be continued

[flatworm00]

great story! Very, very well written.keep it up

[Razor]

Oh wow, I thought it was over after that first chap. This story is among the best I've ever read, and I consider myself a connoisseur of femdom/humiliation stories.

Usually I don't care for it when the girl is basically just defending herself against some jerk, or if the guy himself is solely, 100% responsible for bringing on all the pain/wrath. I like the girl to be a complete, cruel bitch preying on an innocent weakling of a male. But this is so well written that it works perfectly.

[Heckron]

Fantastic! Please continue John! I'd love to read more!

[LuvsHerHeels]

thanks for this chapter...this is getting very interesting.

[gisagogo]

very interesting .....plz continue~~

[John Blaze]

**I'm having some fun with this one... so we'll see how long it keeps going... as long as there is a story to tell and an audience... I'll keep t moving


Dealing with Reality

I walked with Regina as she gave the guided tour. I felt hung over… drunk… how could this be happening. It’s like that dram everyone jokes about… being naked in public… I felt completely naked and exposed, unable to face my tormentor as an equal in my dreams, bow forced to face her as a subordinate at work.

We went through the day. I was unable to function, so Regina did all the talking. Shining through like a budding corporate star. If I wasn’t so numb… and if I didn’t dislike her so much… I would almost have been impressed by her. Clarice seemed to be. Sot ehy chatted away while I walked along numb and silent, convinced that she would recognize me and my new life would be shattered.

That never happened. Clarice truly had no idea who I was. As this realization sank in, I slowly started to regain some sort of self confidence, if not self respect. I knew why she didn’t recognize me… long gone was the handsome young stud from high school. These days I was about 25 pounds overweight. My full head of hair was reduced to a prematurely balding receding hairline. And my vision slipping, I wore some pretty thick glasses. Even more, I had started going by my middle name, Clinton, after I fled town. Determined to outrun my shameful past. Happy as I was that she didn’t recognize me, I also felt some shame at how gorgeous and well kept she was. I felt a little of that old hatred I let go of all those years ago.

Something had changed about her too. She seemed even MORE confident. She seemed like a lifetime of getting everything that she wanted gave her a borderline obnoxious sense of entitlement… and a firm belief that she could accomplish whatever she wanted. Soon, the day was done. Clarice left in her expensive car. Regina, obviously noticing my reaction, grilled me about what happened to me… if I knew Clarice… trying to piece it all together. I deflected her questions and went about my business.


The Inevitable

So.. I guess it was without doubt that my world would start to unravel… I guess that was a signed and sealed deal. After a few weeks of observing the operations of the company, Clarice set up meetings with some of the top department heads. My meeting was at 10 AM and I noticed Regina’s was at 10:30.

I walked into Clarice’s temporary office (she kept one on-site at each building). She sat in her comfortable leather chair… in one of her power skirt suits and stared at me from behind her desk. I couldn’t look directly in her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. She seemed to look right though me… and all of my emotions came crashing back. I must have turned eight shades of red as my mind refreshed with the taste of her feet… the sound of her laughter… HARVARD!!!

She asked me to close the door behind me … but never asked me to sit down. She then spoke to me… slowly… calmly.. And in that French accent I hated so much. But her soft, calm tone did not soften the blow of her next words. She proceeded to tell me that I wasn’t cutting it, that my work was sub par, and that she wasn’t sure that I had a place with the company… I felt all of my hard work and progress going up in flames. Here we go again… she’s grinding my life away under her heel!

The rush of shame and hatred overtook me. Was her destiny somehow intertwined with mine… hers to always find a reason to step on my face… mine to play the footstool. What happened next… and my voluntary role in making it happen… went a long way towards answering that question.

I held onto my pride and told her I disagreed. She persisted, and I started to make acae to defend myself. She, however, was distracted… something was wrong with her computer… this was my chance. I’m a bit of a wiz with gadgets and computers. I noticed her troubles and asked her if I could take a look. Immediately I knew the problem… a fairly common one. With her permission, I climbed under the desk to work on the network cable and some of the hardware… determined to save my job. I was under the desk on all fours, working diligently when… I smelled it. Even after all these years, the smell was unmistakable. It was the smell of Clarice Favreaux’s feet. The smell from my reoccurring nightmares. I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed she had slid her feet out of her shoes. Her dark navy nylons gave off that tormenting smell. One foot, rested partially out of the shoe, with the reinforced heel sitting in clear view. The other foot, completely out of the shoe… her reinforcec toes fondling the shoe on the ground. She didn’t even think of me down there… I could hear her mindlessly scribbling away in her notebook. Something about that smell made me snap… the shame of the past was strong, but this time would be different. This time I would be a man!

“Excuse me, could you please put your shoes back on?”

“Heh?”

“With all due respect… your feet have been in those shoes all day. They don’t smell very good … and they’re practically in my face.”

She stayed shut… but she didn’t put her shoes back on.

“You are right”… she started in that damned French accent. “There is no reason for you to have to smell me feet. I’m letting you go, and we have tech people to fix the computer. You may collect your things and go”

Damn. This was backfiring. Do I save my dignity or my job… could I do both?

“I’m not saying I don’t want to help. I’m just saying, since I am trying to help… do you have to be.. Such a… well, ..”

“Yes?”

That French accent… the smell of her feet… anger management flew out the window.

“A bitch! Don’t be such a freaking bitch!” I was instantly mortified at my words… knowing I likely lost my job for good… but slightly happy that I saved some of my dignity in the process… after all of these years….until she took it back.

At this point I turned around under her desk to get out. It was a tight space and for a split second I sat on the floor facing her. As I started to climb out from under her desk, she raised her foot and pressed the sole firmly into my face.. Shoving me back. Three things went through my mind instantly. 1) Her foot was so warm and sweaty as it pressed into my face… gross 2) the audacity of this woman!!! 3) The familiarity of it all… HOW DID I WIND UP EXACTLY WHERE I FEARED I’D BE AFTER ALL THIS TIME???

She kept her foot in my face.. Cupping my nose with her reinforced nyloned toes. Her stockings were just transparent enough that I could see she had a deep shade of red polish.. Looked fresh.

“Maybe my feet smell like they do because I work hard.” As she spoke her toes massaged themselves up against my nose. She rubbbed the ball of her foot and her toes repeatedly up my face… slowly mashing my nose back and up against my features like a pig’s snout as she forced her foot sweat into my nostrils. She continued, “If you worked as hard as I do… you would not be getting fired.”

[Over and over she stroked his face with her foot, forcefully upturning his nose and assaulting he sense of smell. In the cramped quarters under the desk, he tried to shift or move… but he was captive. ]

Slowly I gave up my struggle to avoid her foot. The irony of the situation crushing my spirit. Here, all these years later … I thought I had started over. And she, without even knowing who I really am, had reduced my “alter ego”.. my new confidence… to the same place she had left me all those years ago, crumpled on the floor at her feet. As I gave up my struggle to maintain dignity… with the sweaty nyloned toes assaulting my face… I listened to her mocking words continue in her French voice…

“This is what hard work smells like. This is what success smells like. In fact…” She slid her foot across the top of my head and with the sole of her foot forced my head down, face first, into one of her shoes. “You want my shoes on, no? How about… on your face?” She chuckled at her bad joke and I gagged at the smell. Truthfully, they probably only slightly smelled, but confined under her desk… with her sweat drying literally in my nose and her shoe in my face… the smell was like amonia.

I had had enough… my dignity was weak… but it was slightly alive. I slapped her foot off my head and started to force my way out from under her desk. Just then the buzzer sounded.

The intercom…

“Regina is here for her 10:30..”

“Send her in.”

No way this is happening…. No way this is happening… No way this is… I slumped back down under the desk… utterly defeated. I was trapped there.


Stay tuned...

[Razor]

YES!

Ohhhh I hope he becomes Regina's bitch at work, her underpaid, lowly secretary or something.

[John Blaze]

Geez... Razor.. am I that predictable??? LOL.

[affinajoseph]

This is one of the best story of recent times

[LuvsHerHeels]

Ah yes...now he may keep his job by serving Regina....and maybe she will become the Regal Regina...and he her lowly footstool and rug.
please continue.
thanks.

[John Blaze]

Insult to Injury

Clarice started giggling like a little school girl. No doubt delighted with the timing of it all. Everything seemed to always go her way… EVERYTHING!!! Why??? Why was he destined to play the fool… the jester… why couldn’t he win… just once? She was quite satisfied with herself Another victory on her belt. She knew what she was doing to him. The humiliation…the agony of such disrespectful defeat…but she had no way of knowing the additional pain he felt. Knowing who she was, what she had done to his life, all of his efforts in life to get away from her reach, all of his hatred for her and her memory, all of his shame from before…. Shoved in his face with a sweaty foot!

Just before Regina opened the door, Clarice peeked her head under the desk and said to Sam, “I always wanted one of those foot roller foot massage stations for under my desk”.

With that, her sweaty nylons again found his face as she used his facial features to massage her feet. She forcefully rubbed her soles back and forth against his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. He tried to move his head to avoid her feet, but he was scared to bump the desk or make too much noise as to give away his location. So.. He resigned himself to take it. The odds of the same woman doing this to him years later was so minute that he was convinced this was one of his nightmares… but it wasn’t. This moment was a cruel circle that he started 10 years ago… enlightening her to her sense for victory and vengeance, showing her how sensitive her feet were, giving her that first power rush… HE had played an integral role in the creation of this “monster” who reveled in these moments. He hoped she would tire of this act… rubbing her feet all over his face… he waited in vain.

The truth was it felt really good. Not only because of the power rush that she had grown to love. But her feet really were hot and tired. His face was just what the doctor ordered.

But the last straw was yet to come. He listened as Clarice gave Regina the exact opposite of the news she had given him. Even as she massaged her foot sweat into his face, she gave Regina a glowing review. Then she asked Regina about Sam… or “Clinton”…

Regina gave a generic answer… trying not to be too harsh. When Clarice told her to be frank and honest, Regina opened up. Sam sat and listened as Regina tore into him. She discussed how he wasn’t a team player, how his work was only mediocre, how he only made it so far because one of the old bosses, one that Clarice had already let go, loved and advocated for him, and how she felt he was condescending to women. He sat and listened to the scathing review, all the while he allowed his face to be a foot massager. His blood boiled at these words… he never really liked Regina, but did she have to throw him under the bus?

“I agree with you Regina… that’s why I’m letting him go” As Clarice said these words, she wiggled her toes against his lips… the reinforced nylons tickling his face.

“He does have a strong following with much of the technical staff though. Maybe for morale we should keep him around … in a lesser position.” Regina offered.

“Well… maybe.. But first let me finish up with you.”

With that, Clarice offered Regina the top job… to run the show… the job Sam was so convinced he would get. As she walked her through the new perks and compensation details, all of which made Sam green with envy, she never stopped sliding her feet all around his face.

After they were just about done, Clarice asked if there was anything else.

“Well,” Regina started. “About Clinton..” She grinned a devilish grin.” Why don’t we keep him on the executive team for the plant… in appearances. To everyone else it will be business as usual, but we’ll strip him of all his real power…”

Sam shivered with crazed anger as these two women plotted his career path… backwards,,, even as one of them massaged her feet with his face

“Continue…” Clarice said with a look of interest.

“Well… you can put him directly under me.. Almost like an assistant. We’ll cut his pay and take away his corporate bonuses.. But he can keep his job.”

“I would do it… but why would he agree?”

“Well, Ms. Favreaux, I happen to know that he is in deep financial trouble. He tends to tell me things after a drink or two at the corporate parties. He’s up to his neck in debt and on the verge of loosing his house. He won’t quit, because even with the pay cut there is no way he could leave and make this kind of money.”

She was right! He knew it. He was stuck. He didn’t have the balls to risk it!

“Fine… he’ll be your assistant effective Monday. Just don’t abuse him too bad… make him sit under your desk and massage your feet or something.”

The two women laughed hysterically, yet Regina had no idea at the true nature of the inside joke. When the meeting was over and Regina had been gone for a few minutes Clarice pushed away from her desk and allowed Sam to slowly … dejectedly… crawl out.

“Aren’t you going to thank me for letting you keep your job?”

Keep his job… ha! With the pay cut and lack of bonus money, he would barely be able to pay his mortgage and buy groceries… plus he was now reporting to Regina!!! He wanted to say… go screw yourself… you’ve ruined my life… AGAIN…..but all he could do was mumble, like a scolded child…”thank you”. This was a new level of simultaneous broken defeat and humiliation and anger … but there was something else… faint at first… but then stronger.. the hope that one day he would get revenge… and this time not screw it up like all those years ago. The hatred was rekindled to an all time high… and this time it included Regina!

He couldn’t wait to get to the restroom to wash his face. After all that, her foot sweat was caked on his skin, stuck in his nostrils, and mushed into his pores. All he could smell was her feet… the smell sitting on his own face the way cigar smoke sits in your clothes.

“And thank you, Clinton… for letting me use your face…” She chuckled to herself and shook her head in slight amazement that she had “done it again” to a cocky S.O.B. As Sam walked out of the room, she called to him “And next time .. Be careful who you call a bitch. Enjoy your new position”

He really hated that French accent!!

The New Plan for Revenge


I’ve got it all figured out now. I had it all wrong before. Public humiliation for Clarice would be nice… but I gotta think bigger. No brute strength nonsense. Hit her where it hurts. She makes so much money… I’ll get her in the pocket book. The one thing I’m very good at is computers and information… I know just what to do… Steal personal info! ! I’ve got access to the company computers… I’m an expert hacker… I’ll get her info and slowly rob her blind! I’ll collect the info slowly over the course of the next few months and go to town. Hell… I’ll sell her identity online and let a bunch of people ruin her. This is the information age… I need to use it to my advantage! She’ll see… I will have my day… I will have my revenge.

[With this new plan… Sam salvaged some degree of disrespect, and as things professionally and personally declined… he found some quiet satisfaction that he was doing something… fighting back… not just letting her step on his face like he did 10 years ago.]


The New Rival

The next months seemed to fly by. He did not directly speak with Clarice again. The incident under her desk never came up. Every once in a while, she would look at him and then smile that condescending smile, but that was it.

Clarice held many meetings and kept Regina busy. The more stressed out and busy Regina got, the more work trickled down to Sam. She ran him ragged. He did much of the busy work for the various projects that Regina had to get done. Usually, without so much as a thank you. But it was worse than that…getting coffee, running errands, preparing handouts and paperwork. Slowly… the tasks became more servant like…get my clothes from the cleaners… pick up my kids from school and take them to my mother’s house… take this bag of my favorite shoes to get resoled. And that wasn’t all. As the company did better and better, Regina made more and more money. She started to wear very expensive suits like Clarice. She started to keep her hair done all the time, which was important to her… as a single mother she wanted to never look like she was slipping. He short bob cut was always fresh and kept her Halle Berry look consistent. When the Christmas bonuses came, she upgraded her car to a very expensive luxury coup.

Sam saw none of these perks. His salary went up 1% for the merit raise in January, he got nor profitability bonus, he got no Christmas bonus. In fact he had to tighten his belt even more, because his adjustable mortgage went up. However, the demeaning tasks at work were nothing compared to the many humiliations of his past… in contrast they seemed minor. Though his blood boiled at the sight of Regina in her designer clothes and shades, at least he wasn’t being forced into some horrid humiliation! Still, she delighted in ordering him around.


He had spent so many hours, days, and years hating Clarice… fantasizing about revenge.. That it felt familiar. But Regina… this was getting stronger everyday. It went from a workplace rivalry, to something else. He hated her for taking the job that was rightfully his… for getting him demoted… for talking down to him each day… but mostly, for aligning herself with his sworn enemy! His only joy, was knowing that he was well underway to getting Clarice good! A few more weeks and he’d have all he needed… then… he’d get Regina too. He was getting his swagger back slowly.

Until… one day the unthinkable happened. His life shifted dramatically, as it often did just when he was getting comfortable with his circumstances. And as always, somehow.. It was Clarice’s fault!


To be continued...

[subshag]

great great great story! should be recommended for the HoF.

[RULEDbyALYSSA]

Love the story. I am very interested to see what happens next!

[Dr_Doormat]

I'm all for the femdom way of life, but I actually want to see Sam win something, poor guy cant catch a break.

[Razor]

AWESOME!

And I have to disagree STRONGLY with Dr Doormat. The COMPLETE defeat and humiliation of this man at the hands(or feet) of Clarice and now the black girl too would be incredible.

I LOVE workplace humiliation so much. It'd rule to see some public humiliation in front of his coworkers.

[LuvsHerHeels]

yes...let Goddess Clarice and the Regal Regina totally humilate this worthless excuse for a man. Crush him without mercy...both literally and figuretively.

[stivalo]

that's great!
wonderful
marvellous
GREAT!

[John Blaze]

Discovered!

One morning Regina called me into her office. She had an odd look on her face. After months of being her little run around boy, I wondered what she had in store for me now. I wasn’t ready

“You know, Clinton… or should I say Sam. Which do you prefer…”

I turned 10 shades of white… just like the day that Clarice stepped out of that car as my boss!

She continued, to explain that she never could quite understand why I acted like I did around Clarice. Why froze up.. Turned white.. Looked away. So, she explained how she started doing research online… and after researching my file some and Clarice’s file some… she realized we had lived in the same town for a brief period. Then, she found out we went to the same high school … but when she found the change of name forms on the town’s local website, she realized that I was Sam Smith. Still there was nothing incriminating. She said she was about t give up… to chalk it up that we used to date or something…. That we had some sort of history in high school and that was that… no biggie…“and then I found these.”

She pointed to her screen and I looked on as she clicked a series of buttons … each one playing a video she had somehow dug up online.

“I think I pieced them together and got the order right… but let me know. It’s a little hard to tell it’s you… but I can see the resemblance.

She proceeded to play each video, each shot by a different spectator that day… each putting more of the puzzle together.

The first one was titled “boy gets owned by girl at prom” It was a grainy video of Clarice kicking me in the face, stepping on my head, and threatening to snap my arm. My heart sunk. The next clip was called, “loser licks feet”. It was a clip of Clarice, sitting in the chair wearing her tiara and laughing hysterically as I held her feet up to my face and lapped at her soles to the crowd’s chants of “lick her feet!”. The level of shame reached near suicidal heights as I watched my newest rival… and boss… enjoying clips of my darkest hour at the hands and feet of my lifelong nemesis… and boss. I can still hardly grasp it…. The gravity of this situation.

The next clip was called, “crybaby eats toe jam” and depicted when I knelt down on stage and sobbed while sucking Clarice’s toes.

Regina interjected her comments, “ At first I thought you might be some foot freak… but the tears gave it away… she really was punking you, huh?”

“What do you want from me” was all I could ask.

“Well, for this stuff… nothing…” she added. “But then I started thinking, if the person who did this to me came back into my life all these years later… what would I do? I figured, you must want to get her back…somehow. So then, I dug around the files some more. You’re not the only computer wiz around here. Actually, you were so sloppy… not really covering your cyber tracks… it was fairly easy to trace it all to you. I could hardly look at her… did she mean..???

“I found all the evidence. You‘ve been snooping inc confidential files and collecting quite the information about our boss lady.”

She proceeded to lay out the case against me… outlining and detailing all the computer evidence she uncovered on the work system and security features that I was compiling illegal information. She had enough to put me away!

“Please” I begged…truly scared now. “She doesn’t even know I am who I am! We can handle this right now….” I repeated my question, “What do you want from me?”

“Well, Sam” she smiled as she used my real name, “our relationship is going to change.

And change it did… she ridiculously stepped up my menial tasks… and expected me to pay out of my pocket for things having nothing to do with me! I paid now as I picked up her designer clothes for the cleaners, and when I took garbage bags full of expensive shoes to the shop… the repairs came out of my pocket. I bought her breakfast and lunch. I gave up several free Saturdays… to go to her home and wash her car… which, by the way, cost more than my house! Then she started pushing a little more. She must have taken her cue from those videos she found… because one day… out of the blue… she casually asked for a foot massage. Like I could really say no. But , the look of power in her eyes when I took off her shoes and massaged her sweaty feet. She laughed and giggled in amazement like a little school girl.

Could this be happening again?… with another rival? Did I wear a sign or something that said “I will humiliate myself for your physical and mental pleasure?“

But.. She was hooked. At least twice a week, she would call me in her office at the end of the day, and have me sit on the floor and rub her feet as she took the last of her conference calls. Her feet weren’t as sweaty as Clarice’s, but they certainly got damp enough. She was hooked after the first time… and it soon became one of her favorite activities. She would recline on the sofa… yes, her office had a sofa… and I’d sit there and rub her feet. I never could tell if she got more joy out of watching me do the deed or out of the actual massage. One day, she called me in at lunchtime. She used to work out in the gym at lunchtime. This day I was eating a late lunch because I was doing work… work SHE assigned me. I was tired and hungry and really just wanted to eat. All I had was a sandwich because I started packing lunch… my money was so tight! She came straight from the gym, dripping in sweat. She wore a white t-shirt, black spandex , and white sneakers with no socks. “Well…get to it” was all she said… almost insulted that I needed to be told.

I removed her sneakers and she wiggled her toes in the air… happy to let the cool air hit them…Her feet were really sweaty that day. And when the cool air hit them…her foot smell hit me. She kicked her feet up to my face and wiggled her toes assaulting my sense of smell… just like Clarice had done back when I was her assistant after those plays. A strong sense of déjà vu hit me… after all, what’s that saying “fool me once, shame on you… fool me twice… shame on me!” That’s exactly how I felt… shame on me in the worst way!!! So I massaged her feet. They were so sweaty her skin was almost soggy! While I sat there and rubbed her feet, she ate her post gym salad and drank a cold water. Damn.. I was starving!

When I finally finished, my hands wore her foot sweat like a thick layer of lotion…they smelled like just like her feet too. There were two minutes left for lunch and Regina was holding a mandatory web conference right after! I told her I had to eat… and she said to me… “So… eat.“. Then, she laughed hysterically as I used those hands, not being allowed to wash them due to the rush I was in, to eat my sandwich. I sat… at her feet… and endured her laughter s I ate my sandwich with my polluted hands. I must have made some horrible faces, but she loved every minute. But I endured it all.

And so... to avoid jail… and to avoid being fired… and to avoid Clarice finding out who I really am… I did the unthinkable. I voluntarily did these things … and…I did things that I … well things that.. Just things.


Regina

I’m not really sure why Sam and I never really got along. But we didn’t. Never. Not from the start. Now look at him… barely making a living, paying for my things, running my errands. Massaging my feet. I really didn’t know how far I could push, but it sure was nice to have.. Well… basically a slave around to help out. But none of that could compare to what happened next.

I was having a really bad day. Clients were pissing me off. I had been dying to blow off some steam. I was also breaking in my new $400 heels and they were fighting back! And then… today, of all the days, Sam had an attitude. So, I figured.. We’d fix that.

I called Sam into my office to get my tootsies some love as usual… a task he couldn‘t mask how much he hated. When he sat on the floor in front of my couch, and I slipped my aching bare feet out of my shoes… I told him that there was no conference call today. That I blocked out this time for him and I. Then I broke it to him… something I had been curious about since that day when I saw those videos. “Today.. I want you to use your tongue”

It looked like his soul escaped from his gaping mouth! I felt better already. Let me tell you, when he started massaging my feet… it felt like heaven… especially that day. But when he first touched his tongue to my foot….it sent shivers down my spine. That tongue running up and down the sole of my foot… while he massaged them. Words can’t explain. Then he iced it… he ran his tongue between my toes! That sensation was just what the doctor ordered. The subtle sensation of his tongue sliding between my toes… exploring the nooks and crannies …wow! That’s all I can say…wow! Well, you get the idea.. I had him do it for the next 30 minutes. I’m sure it wasn’t as enjoyable for him… after all I know my feet were quite hot and sweaty. But for me… I think I found something that I’ll love forever. The fact that is was Clinton.. or Sam.. or whatever he calls himself, only made it that much sweeter. I can’t help but wonder what was going through his mind… all this time later from those videos, in the same predicament. He must have felt truly pathetic and hopeless. Oh well…When I was finished with him… I felt like a new woman. As I slipped my shoes back on and started for the door. He slumped to the floor and started crying… I almost felt sorry for him… almost, I slipped on my designer shades and flicked the light off as I walked out. Leaving him the darkness to work it out with himself… and his tears.


Sam

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when she asked … rather told me to lick her feet. The women in my life seemed to end up being my chief rivals. It seemed that if I didn’t like you… or if you stood I my way in any manner professionally or otherwise.. you would wind up humiliating me… taking me manhood… and, because I hate feet so much, fate’s cruel joke on me seems to be I always wind up right here…. Staring at the task at hand, seemingly no way out, in complete denial that I’m about to do the unthinkable… and using my mouth to make you feel better… make your feet feel good… exchanging any ounce of my dignity for a few minutes of your relief from the day’s stresses… and don’t worry about me… just think of me as your little personal foot spa!

My thoughts were interrupted by the sour salty taste of Regina’s bare feet. Hot… sweaty… slightly smelly… bare feet. Different woman… different circumstance… same result. So… for the second time in my life… I licked feet. Still… somehow it was all Clarice’s fault. Even as I licked Regina’s feet, I blamed Clarice and I heard her laughter in my head. But… then I concentrated on the task at hand. You see, unlike any other time with Clarice… I HAD to please Regina… she held too much over my head. So, that made it worse. Because, for the sake of pleasing her, I was really trying. Something that I could not fully accept… I tried my best to please her… anything to keep her happy. And that made me all the more pathetic.

So I massaged and licked and licked and massaged… taking great relief and pleasure when she seemed happy. I slipped my tongue between her toes, without prodding. I only licked one woman’s feet before… and I hated it. Now there were two… and, for the second time, I sunk to a new low. The mixture of my distaste for my actions, the humiliation of it all, the fact that I felt the need… against every fiber of my body… to try to do a good job. I don’t really think I could go much lower. As I used my tongue to clear away bits of toe cheese, tiny pieces of dead skin, and specks of shoe leather that I found in the crevices between her toes… she would moan. As I licked rough spots away on the corners of her heel and forefoot… she would moan.

I could tell she was finished because she simply pulled her feet back and slipped on her shoes. Not even so much as a thank you. All those years ago, I thought I was at my lowest because I knew Clarice was leaving and I thought I’d never see her again… never get revenge… but now, I thought… this was worse… because looking at Regina’s face, fully content and pleased… I knew I WOULD see her again… and I feared this would become a regular task… it wasn’t even out of the question that the dirt from Clarice’s feet would enter my mouth in the near future… I had built my life back up… only to wind up in a worse place… as Regina left, it all came crashing down and I wept.


The Retreat

The next few weeks were uneventful By uneventful, I meant that I kept running errands, fronting money for Regina’s personal objects, and giving her regular foot massages. Still, nothing ridiculously out of the ordinary happened… it still kills me that I’ve come to accept the above activities as “ordinary”. However, I only saw Clarice in passing and really didn’t speak to her. I knew something big was up, because she and Regina had regular meetings. I was right, there was a major deal on the table. If we landed it, the company would make major money… not that is mattered to me, since I never saw and extra profit.

My workload tripled over the next month, as both Regina and Clarice kept handing me more and more work. It seemed that I was doing everything under the sun. Do you think either one of them thanked me? Ha… fat chance. Anyway, after what seemed like forever, we landed the deal. It was a real big deal and Clarice took everyone out to celebrate at happy hour. She was even being nice to me… maybe for the first time in he life! After the evening, Clarice announced to the executive team that she was taking us away for a long weekend.. An off site team meeting at a ski resort and spa to celebrate. Everyone was excited. Everyone except me… I had my spirits so broken, I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine anything good could come to me if it came from Clarice.

When the day to leave came, we all boarded the luxury train for the 2 hour trip. I wound up sitting next to Regina. For the first half hour or so she slept. Then, when she woke up, she started conversation with me. At first it was all small talk.. Sports, weather… she almost seemed human… like it used to be before our “current arrangement”. Then she switched the topic…


“What do my feet taste like?”, she asked me. Was she serious… what the hell kind of question was that? I looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“Excuse me?” I asked somewhat flustered.

“I was just wondering what my feet taste like”. She was serious.

“Well… not good” I stated plainly. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this line of questioning, but I decided it was best to play along.

“Did you like licking them?”

I couldn’t believe she was asking me these questions.. Was she nuts? Was she stupid? Was she just trying to power trip on my behalf? I figured, I’d play along some more… what choice did I have. Maybe, just maybe… I could get some sympathy out of this and improve my situation. “No”, I answered. “No I didn’t enjoy it. In fact I never really liked feet. Even more than that, as you can probably imagine… after my little experience in high school I REALLY hate feet. It makes me feel degraded and humiliated and disgusted to have to even massage your feet. To lick them…” I stopped and just looked away.

“But you seemed so into it…” she asked.

“Well… I had to be. We both know that you’ve got me in a real bad predicament. Why do you feel bad now.. After all this time?”

“Feel bad? Oh goodness no!” She chuckled. Then, she turned and looked me dead in the eyes. “I love having you to massage my feet regularly. I’m a hard working woman. I deserve everything that I’ve gotten… including this job that you thought was somehow owed to you…and an assistant to help me…with everything.” She stressed the word “everything“. “ I never really spoiled myself much… but now, with all this money I’m making… I live the good life. That includes wearing all these shoes… the ones that most women just dream of owning. I need someone to make my feet feel nice as I break them in. Besides… my job is stressful You know what they say about the feet…. All the nerve endings and such. It must be true because I always feel great when you are done.“

She was smiling now… almost like she was reminiscing about the many foot rubs I’d been forced to administer. “And when you licked them… that may have been the best feeling I’ve ever felt.. Period.” She leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “You were always a condescending arrogant prick. Walking around the world like everyone was beneath you.” She was right… this exaggerated bravado was how I attempted to regain my self esteem after my high school escapades. She had been the brunt of enough of my crap when we were equals… I was trying to get ahead! “

“Now”, she continued , “look at you. You are my little helper boy… given to me by Clarice… who as it turns out, made quite the fool of you back in the day. Only to return to your life and make a fool of you again.“ With this, she started to laugh… almost in disbelief at how pathetic my life was. “I can’t even imagine… Still, I was content to boss you around and rub your nose in my promotion. But, then you slipped up… and gave me this REAL power over you. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you started collecting information on me while you were plotting on Clarice. Amazing what you can get from a computer, huh? You wanted to destroy me… to see me fail and suffer. You would have had no pity on me… delighting as my finances and personal life crumbled within your plot. Well…instead… my life improved even more. Crazy huh… how Clarice has changed both of our lives…lifting me to such great financial and social status.. Making me the woman I deserve to be. And… simultaneously downgrading your life… for a dramatic second time….“ She shook her head in mock concern for my well being. “It must burn like a fire in your gut… no wonder you tried to get her back… get ME back too…but instead, now you’re even worse off… and I’m even BETTER off for it. Life must not seem fair to you.“

Her words cut through me like a knife. In a few moments and a short speech, she had summed up my sorry existence. Defeated in high school… in a way that forever changed the course of my life. Only to have my life changed again… by the same person… even without her knowing who I really am. The power she had over my dreams and my future as a young man in high school, manifesting itself literally into power over my finances and happiness as an adult. And then to hand me off like an old beast of burden to this.. This… bitch, to continue my sorry fate. I truly could not feel any lower.. Anymore defeated… any more powerless.

“So..“ Regina continued, “This is your life now… to watch me live out my dreams and aspirations… from the floor… run my errands, buy my meals, and make my tired feet feel nice. If you feel degraded or shamed… not my problem.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s face it… We never really got along. You’ve been condescending and arrogant to me since day one. Now, you wash my car on you day off…. And I made you use your tongue to clean the gunk from between my toes” She smiled a very content smile. In fact…” She kicked off her heels and curled up in the seat next to me, laying her warm nyloned feet on my lap. “.. I’m going back to sleep… be a dear and rub my feet.” I looked around and nobody was paying us any attention. The seats across from us were empty so unless someone walked by, they wouldn’t see the demeaning truth that was my life. So, as she closed her eyes and snuggled up for the long train ride, I started to massage her feet as she nodded off. Even after my explaining how ridiculous this made me feel, she reduced me to this.

Mad at myself for walking right into that power trip, I rubbed the soft feet of my boss through her stockings. I knew this retreat had a very dangerous potential.


To be continued...

[gisagogo]

great

you are legend ^^

[surfspy]

this is a great story keep him cleaning her sweaty feet

[wolfgangn]

Grat story, but this is a trample board, so what I am really missing is some good trample actions in the story.

[John Blaze]

wolfgangn,

You re right.

For this particular story I've chosen to focus more on the domination/foot worship aspects.

Sorry to you hard core trample fans! I apologize in advance.

To the rest of you, enjoy!

[affinajoseph]

Hey John...any plans of adding physical beatings?

[RULEDbyALYSSA]

any plans for making him do some shoe cleaning?

[toejam]

Very well written story what a lucky guy to have these women in his life

[OmegaMan]

It's a trampling AND Foot Fetish board. The story is great so far, and the way the women dominate would make no sense for them to suddenly start trampling him. Keep it on the same lines please as it's working really well at the moment.

[stivalo]

the more i read the more i love this story!
one of the best i've ever red!!!

[John Blaze]

Well...

The good news is the story is pretty much finished.

It more or less stays on the same path the whole way... so if you like it so far, you will love the rest... if you're waiting for something you have yet to see... you may be dissapointed. I'm going give the rest of it to you guys little by little becasue its so long... and I may make little tweaks as I re-read it.

Happy Holidays!
__________________________________________________ _______________

Here's the next part...

The Game

The train ride up was humiliating torture. I rubbed her feet, for two hours. Every time I thought I could stop, she would wake up and nudge me with her foot. What the hell … couldn’t she sleep without the constant kneading? I rubbed till my hands cramped.

When we got to resort, we all exited the train. It was really cold and snow was everywhere… but the view up here in the mountains was beautiful. The train stopped right at the resort. Maybe this would be a decent trip after all? The next few seconds smashed that dream.

Regina and Clarice walked side by side, chatting and laughing When the bell boy came to grab our things, Regina casually suggested that I help him… because there were so many bags. Clarice and Regina watched me haul their bags with the hired help up the long pathway to the front of the resort. We were only here for 4 days, why the hell did these two pack so much?

Only the 3 of us were on this train. Clarice, Regina, and I came up Thursday to make sure everything was set up and ready for the offsite meeting. The other six members of the team were coming up Friday. We worked for a good portion of the day. Clarice was a perfectionist, and we worked to assure perfection… at a back breaking pace. When we were finished, I was exhausted and wanted to take a nap… after all.. I had not slept on the damn train.. I rubbed feet! But Regina had other ideas… she needed her workout. She wanted to go to the gym and play racquetball. I had not exercised in any real way in years. Plus, I was exhausted… I was two seconds from telling he to go get stuffed…. When I thought better of it… damn… why did she have to have so much over my head… have me by the balls!

We had to take a hotel shuttle to the gym. It was in a separate building and heaven forbid spoiled little Regina walk in the cold. We got to the gym and both changed into our workout clothes. Regina stepped onto the racquetball court in tight grey spandex shorts almost down to her knees. She wore a tight t shirt and her body was wearing these clothes like a glove. She had white low top sneakers and no socks on. If I didn’t despise her so much… I would have had tom admit she was gorgeous… a real knockout. I kept comparing he to Halle Berry, but after seeing this… I think she may even have had a leg up!

Me, on the other hand… I wore some baggy sweats and a loose t-shirt… trying to not look too fat. After she stretched out a little bit.. We started playing the game. She seemed to be somewhat effortless with her strokes… quickly getting to the ball and slicing it through the air back off the wall. I, on the other hand, was running all over the place to keep up. Damn… how did I get so out of shape. Still, this was a fair playing field.. I started to feel a real competitive streak… a real need to win on the only ground that Regina and I were equals. That’s the beauty of sports. I played my butt off… trying like my life depended on it… in a small way, my dignity did… any chance to beat her, to be better than her… I had to seize it. I didn’t. She won.. A close game by 2 points.

When we were done, I stood there bent over… huffing and puffing. She stood there, slightly sweating and breathing normally. “Play again?” she asked.

“Sure”. My competitive juices were flowing.

“Let’s make it interesting…”she started. “If you win… I will give you a bonus this quarter… $25,000.”

Was she serious… that much money… I could get at least mostly out of debt. But what was the catch. ”And what do you want?” I asked cautiously.

“Me? Nothing… after all… I have everything over you already… I’m playing for the sport of it…giving you some incentive to win. But, it will be fun to dangle that money in front of you and then snatch it away… I wonder if you’ll cry.”

I was happy at the chance and furious at her arrogance… even if I was used to it. “Deal” I said. I’d show her .. I’d regain some dignity.

The next game was nothing like the first. She slammed the ball off of the wall with such ferocity, it often zoomed by me like a bullet. When I did return her shots, it seemed to bounce right to her… with minimal movement. Me, on the other hand, I ran ragged all over the court.. Trying to get a good hit. Occasionally I dove for the ball, hitting the ground hard and usually missing. Her laughter was deafening… especially with the echo of a racquetball court. When the dust cleared, she had beaten me soundly… 21-3.

“Again?” she asked.

I was bent of over holding my knees… trying to catch my breath. I glanced up to see her sweating heavily, but breathing normally. I was truly outmatched. This was confirmed by her next statement.

“Oh.. I forgot to mention I went to college on a tennis scholarship. I‘m just starting to get warmed up… to feel loose.” Again, her laughter was deafening. “OK, so for being a good sport… I’ll sweeten the deal. This time… a $25,000 bonus and you won’t have to rub my feet anymore.”

I was obviously dying to win this game… but I had walked into enough of her power trips. “No thanks” I puffed.

“I’ll spot you 15 points…”

My ears perked up… now this was worth it… surely I could score 6 points… so I agreed.

I couldn’t. … She ran me silly, again, beating me 21 - 19. So close…I really tried.. I really tried only to lose… how familiar.

“OK..” She said. “One more. “

No way.. I’m exhausted.

“Here’s the deal. If you win.. I’ll give you your freedom. I’ll arrange for you to be let go from the company and I’ll give you a ridiculous severance package. You will be completely financially set in the short term… and I’ll help get you a job, paying more money, somewhere else.”

Was she serious? How could I trust her… more importantly… how could I beat her?

“And… this time I’ll spot you 18 points… just score 3! Think about it… no more looking at Clarice everyday… no more being my little pet… my bitch.”

She was truly enjoying this. What did I have to loose… my pride was already shot… but this… a chance at freedom.

She made me look ridiculous. I underestimated how tired I was… but my legs felt like logs! She laughed at me as she had me diving and running and falling and sputtering as she scored at will. She blanked me… not allowing even one point. The game sat at 20 - 18. How pathetic I was. With one point left to score, she served the ball. I mustered up all of my energy… ran and hit it square!!! Full force.. My best shot of the night! With a cat like move, she easily got to the perfect spot and sent it back off of the wall with laser like force! I never really thought about why the people in my gym always wore goggles when they played racquetball…until now.

The hard little rubber ball came directly back t my head… shooting straight at my right eye. I don’t know if I was too tired, to slow, or what… but I didn’t move. I got rocked in the face and fell hard to the ground. Slamming to the ground and rolling in pain. I heard Regina’s voice… “21... Game over!” Was she concerned about me at all… of course not. Then, I felt something on my head. Pressing on the side of my face, the side with the bruised eye… pinning me to the ground. It was her shoe… she had her sneaker on my face!

[Regina walked over to her defeated opponent, writhing in pain on the floor. She had offered him money, she had offered him dignity, she had offered him freedom… he was too weak to grab any of it… even as it all dangled in front of his face. She looked at him with unbridled arrogance… she was truly better than him…. And proved it yet again. Triumphantly, she walked over to him and placed the sole of her sneaker on his face. She raised her arms in the air and pretended that she had just won Wimbledon. She talked about herself in third person, as if she were a TV announcer “Regina defeats her opponent and the fans go wild…” she chuckled. Holding Sam’s injured face to the ground beneath her shoe, she blew kisses to the fake crowd.]


Doubles

When she finally took her foot off of my face I struggled to stand up. When she saw my eye, already red and swollen, she commented that it was going to probably be a black eye tomorrow. Great… just what I needed for the meeting with my peers. For a split second I had allowed myself to dream of freedom… only to be humiliated and pinned beneath her foot… how appropriate.

I was hurt, tired, out of breath, getting stiff, and mentally drained. I was ready to go. Of course… what else could possibly happen at that moment except what happened next. Clarice walked in. Wearing a white miniskirt she obviously bought at some expensive tennis shop. With low top white sneakers and ankle socks. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Up for another game guys?” she asked.

I most certainly was not! She asked about my eye and I just shrugged and told her I caught a ball in the eye. I was trying to find a way out of this, face to face with the two people I hated more than anything in the world..the two people who had control over my life in unprecedented ways. Just then… life got worse.

Some middle aged, fat, balding corporate type.. Who just “happened to be walking by” stepped onto the court. “Looks like you guys could use a fourth for doubles”

This couldn’t be happening.

“Guys versus girls?” he continued. He then proceeded to make a couple of slick comments about after the game… getting some drinks. Or just going back to his room… because he had the “big suite”. Even I thought this guy was a pompous fool.

I cringed at this asshole! I tried to signal him to stop. I knew this would not be good. He had no idea how bad he was making it for me… and for him. One thing I knew about Clarice, she would not pass a chance to put this fool in his place.

“Care to make a friendly little wager?” Regina asked.

It was almost like this guy was sent here to make my life worse… the next words out of his mouth were like daggers to my ears. “I don’t know sweetie… wanna say something fun and friendly… loser kisses the winner’s feet… or buys them a drink?” He said this obviously thinking the girls would opt for the drink. I knew better.. I shot him a look in disbelief and anger.

I won’t even bore you with the details of the game. We lost… bad. I was damn near blind in one eye and exhausted. He… well… he just sucked! And after talking all that trash?

The girls stood victoriously next to each other. Regina pointed to the floor at her feet… “Pucker up boys.” I needed to get this over with before I started to cry. Once the thought of simultaneously being forced to kiss the feet of the two tormentors at once really hit me… I’d probably just start balling. I quickly walked over and knelt down on one knee. I bent forward with my head to the ground and placed a kiss on the tops of each of their shoes. They slapped high fives to each other and laughed. Clarice complimented me on being a good sport… the words, meant to be a harmless and nice comment, burned a hole through my stomach. Had she not rubbed her foot into my face for half an hour under her desk months before… had she not made my life such hell… had Regina not taken my manhood at every possible turn…maybe a “nice” comment would have seemed sincere. Regina snapped her fingers and said “next”, pointing to the ground and looking at the new guy.

This fool was still trying to be arrogant...”What do you really want? Wouldn’t you rather take the free drink honey?”

“No, fat boy… I want your lips on my shoe.” Regina snapped back. A small piece of me was actually happy that this guy was getting this treatment cause if it wasn’t him… it would probably be me! But a bigger piece of me was mad at the world for letting these two arrogant prim donnas win again!

He was obviously offended by her comment, but he probably figured he’d play along and still try to get Clarice in bed. He knelt down in front of Regina and kissed the top of her sneaker. Then, he shifted to kiss Clarice’s shoe.

“Wait” she said. She reached down and removed her sneaker, extending her foot and offering him her sweat soaked ankle sock to kiss. His face was a little taken aback, but he leaned in to kiss the top. As he leaned in, Clarice flicked her ankle and offered him the sole of her foot. He hesitated for a split second and she pushed her foot forward, pressing her foot into his face. The ball of her foot pressed firmly against his lips, with her warm socked toes pressing against his nostrils and slightly turning up his nose. Clarice looked at him kneeling there with her foot in his face and raised an eyebrow as if to ask.. How will you save face now? He kissed it her foot. and tried to save some dignity by making another slick comment.

“No problem honey… I’d drink your dirty bath water .”

Clarice raised an eyebrow and said “Let us see…” She picked up her sneaker and walked over to the waster cooler. We all looked on as Clarice filled her shoe with water. I looked on.. Numb. Regina looked on almost amazed at her boss’s audacity and mean streak. And our foolish friend looked on probably trying to figure a way out of this.

She returned to where he was, still kneeling, and said.. “Well, this is close enough… drink” in her French accent.

“Come on honey.. A gag is a gag… but this is enough. I‘m flying back in the morning and if you aren‘t trying to play in the bed tonight, then I‘m gonna go find another sexy little thing. You‘re pretty, but not that…” He started to get up and Clarice grabbed the back of his head and forced him forward, simultaneously tilting her shoe up. The foul water mixed with her foot sweat poured out onto his face… some ran down his face, some got in his mouth… forcing him to drink it… and some went up his nose.. Choking him. He flailed his arms and drank/choked on Clarice’s foot water. Then came the sound I was all too familiar with. The one I had learned to despise. She started laughing hysterically… that condescending, victorious, “look at this fool” laugh! “Drink up little piggy” she cooed between laughs. I was amazed at her… how did she repeatedly find disgraceful ways to defeat her opponents.

When she was done, he collapsed to the ground … choking and sputtering. She then did something that brought back memories so bad.. I must have turned three shades of white…. A thousand shamefully bad memories all flooded my memory banks at once with her next action. She, with her socked foot, stepped on his face as she walked for the exit. Casually, placing her foot on his head, the side of his face… even as he struggled to regain is breath… and walking on him. As she left the court, she turned to him and said “Have a nice flight.” Then she turned to us and said “Meeting starts at 8”.

What a bitch.

more to come...

[surfspy]

this is great but please put in more sweaty foot licking and cleaning under there feet is where its at. Great story.

[stivalo]

you're the best.
write all you want, i'll keep reading

[maitressenoir]

great writing great writing great writing

[John Blaze]

The Ride Back

There was only one shuttle left for the night… Regina and I ran to catch it. We didn’t have time to change our clothes. As I plopped down into the back seat… I was truly exhausted. Mentally and physically. Regina had done both with her little games. But Clarice… by humiliating that poor guy like that… had once again brought back all my memories… all my shame… My eye was swelling shut, my body was tightening up from all the exertion, and I was looking forward to a long nights sleep.

Regina, still covered in sweat swung her feet up into my lap. She started talking to me very casually “Sam, take off my shoes” Was she serious. A foot massage… now… come on man!! Give me a break. Still, I complied… what choice did I have. Her feet assaulted my senses. 3 hours of racquetball with no socks…. You don’t want to know what that smells like! There was a closed partition between the back and the front of the shuttle… or the driver would have even noticed.

Then… the next words crushed me. Any gratefulness I had that I wasn’t the other guy escaped me. “My feet are really hot and really tired! They need a good licking. Be a dear and take care of that for me.” Regina reached in her gym back and pulled out a cold can of soda that she bought right before we ran for the shuttle. “Rub the side of the can every few minutes on your tongue to make your tongue cold. Mmmm… That will feel great”

You’ve got to be kidding me! Was she serious… it wasn’t bad enough that I had to lick her feet… but she had special requirements??? And I couldn’t DRINK the soda? I had to lick the can?? No doubt so she could drink it later!! This was truly an absolute bitch of a woman… one who had no respect for me in any way at all!

I froze… staring at her smelly feet glistening with sweat. This, above everything I had endured… would be a new low. I hesitated … pondering if there was anyway to escape.

Regina, as if she could read my mind, offered me some words of “encouragement“. “Well.. Just think. If only you had won one of those games… you wouldn’t have to do this” Regina laughed as she said this. “It sucks to be you… but its great to be me!” She closed her eyes and laid back. “Now make my feet feel good.”

I held the can against my tongue for a long while. Both stalling for time, and trying to numb my tongue… hoping it would kill the taste buds for a while! It didn’t work. I lifted her right foot to my face… the smell getting stronger as it came closer… and, with a complete sense of hopelessness… I extended my tongue. As the saltiest, foulest taste I can ever remember hit my taste buds, I ran my tongue up her sole. Regina moaned her pleasure and I continued. When I slid my tongue in between her toes… I tasted all kinds of foulness. Bits of crud and slimy gunk slid into my mouth and down my throat. She pushed her foot forward, sliding her toes into my mouth and started wiggling them around while I sucked and licked.. Like it was the most natural thing to do. She barked out the occasional orders. “Massage the other one while you do that….. Okay switch feet…. Lick harder… get your tongue cold again…nibble on my big toe‘s callous.“ For the next 15 minutes, I licked her feet, sucked her toes, nibbled away dead skin, and swallowed an untold amount of her foot’s crud. I felt like crying… but I fought it back. I could at least have that small victory… at least save myself that additional shame. The shame was already intense enough… the embarrassment excruciating. I would occasionally look at her face… she just laid there … eyes closed, smiling… a very happy and content smile. She looked like a person who was in complete relaxation and bliss. Now, the shame, though still there, gave way to anger. Anger that she felt so privileged as to “use” me as she wished. Angry that her happiness was so linked to my disgrace. Angry that I could be in this predicament… repeatedly… despite my best efforts. And even as I grew to a slow boil, the reality was that I could do nothing.. Nothing but remove her toe cheese and listen to her sighing in total relaxation… total victory. I felt even more disgraced.

As I licked away my pride… the day’s events replayed in my mind. How she had made me describe my humiliation on the train, only to describe her “superior” perspective and make me massage her feet anyway. How she had forced me to play a game I didn’t want to… and beaten me soundly… making me dream of freedom only to snatch it away. How my eye was swollen shut and her foot placed on it as I lay defeated. How I was forced to humiliate myself again… at Clarice’s feet and at hers. How I watched her humiliate another man and how that reinforced that she and Clarice truly did always seem to win. And now this… tired… hurt… beaten… dying for a bit of sleep… now I licked away the hours of foot grime.. Foot grime created defeating and humiliating me for the past several hours. It had been a long day indeed!

As we pulled up to the hotel she made me put her sneakers back on. She made me get out, open her door, and then carry her gym bag as she scurried inside to get out of the cold. I walked though the snow and fumed… one day I’d be free of this fate…. But for now, I was her bitch…. Thanks to Clarice…. And it hurt like hell.

To Sleep Like a Baby

That night Regina took a quick shower and headed for bed. Her body slightly fatigued from her long workout, she could not wait to get some sleep. She knew Clarice’s work ethic, and she knew that although this was a reward trip… it would be a tough long meeting at times as well. She needed her rest. She sat on the foot of the bed and put lotion on her body. When she was lotioning her soft, feet… she stopped and stared at them. Her mind wandered to Sam. She thought about his words on the train.. How he felt so defeated. How pathetic his life really was…nearly broke, living check to check… working for two people he hated… being blackmailed into what amounted to servitude. She thought about the ride back to the hotel.. How great it felt as her feet were tongue cleaned after such a strenuous workout and long day….and how horrible Sam must have felt… after all, she could NEVER lick someone’s feet… especially someone she disliked… after a workout!!!

She chuckled to herself as she cuddled up under the blanket. Maybe she was too hard on him… maybe this was truly unfair.. Was she punishing him not only for his arrogance, but for the arrogance of so many men from her past?… probably. But this lifestyle… this high paying, highly pampered lifestyle.. Complete with assistant/servant/bitch… this was heaven…. Her destiny, no doubt. And to be her errand running, foot rubbing, lowly paid… bitch… that was his destiny, apparently. She scrunched up her face at the thought of what her feet must have tasted like.. And fell asleep thinking…”I bet he ain’t so cocky anymore!”. This was her last thought as she slipped away into what would be some of the best sleep of her life.


Tossing and Turning

Even as Regina slept like an angel, Sam scrubbed his mouth. For at least 20 minutes he brushed his teeth intensely. Determined to get the taste of Regina’s feet and toes off of his taste buds. The acrid stench of her foot sweat seemed to find a comfortable home in his nostrils… and the equally disgusting taste seemed to sit in his mouth no matter how much he brushed or gargled. It was probably mental.. The taste and smell burned into his memory banks.. Not allowing him to forget. The more he thought about what he had just done… the more he brushed. Eventually, he had to sleep.. He was exhausted… but even as he lay in bed… he could not rest. He tossed and turned all night… tormented. Each time he closed his eyes he would see a different scene from his life… falling down the bleachers in high school…changing Clarice’s shoes and rubbing her feet at the play… licking her feet at prom… finding out she had an MBA from Harvard, a chance he would never get thanks to her…seeing her step out of that car as his new boss… her massaging her feet with his face as she gave Regina his dream job… rubbing Regina’s feet over and over… washing Regina’s car… paying for Regina’s errands as he ran them… kissing both their shoes that night… failing to win a single game and his freedom… cleaning Regina’s sweaty feet with his “cold” tongue as she rested on the shuttle. There were so many scenes to pick from and they all played in his head like an all night TV marathon! Each one sending different feelings through his head… each one keeping him awake. And always… the laughter and the giggling played in his head like a soundtrack to the memories… until… the alarm clock went off….buzzing to signal the awakening from a sleep that never came. Sam rolled out of bed and dragged himself to the bathroom. As he went to the shower, he glanced in the mirror. His eye was now a deep black/blue shade and still quite swollen. Of course… why not.

Incident in the Lobby

The next morning, as the team was arriving for the meeting, Sam went to the lobby to grab some coffee from the café. As he poured his cup, he saw the gentleman from the previous night… the one who had been introduced to the mean streak of Clarice Favreaux on the racquetball court. He was checking out at the front desk. Clarice walked into the lobby a few seconds later. Heads turned to follow her stunning form. The dress code she had set for the meeting was casual. She wore an expensive loose grey sweater and tight form fitting jeans with black stilettos. Her hair was hanging long and wavy. Sam could tell by the smirk on her face that she was up to something devilish. He knew what she was like… that need of hers to let you know she beat you…. And enjoyed it. He knew she would do or say something. She always needed to have the last word… the last laugh.. To leave you with that last impression of her smiling face.

She walked over to him and smiled the biggest smile and hugged him like they were old friends. The clerk behind the desk asked her… “Oh, you know Mr. Franks? He is one of our best clients. He comes to us all the time… all the way from South Africa. ” Clarice knew what that meant. That meant he was really loaded… probably had more money than she would ever have… but she had something in her pocket…. His dignity. He turned to Mr. Franks and continued, “Ms Favreaux is having a business meeting here. She is one of only a few people who spends as much money with us as you…” .

Mr. Franks looked a little flustered as he struggled with what to say… to buy a moment, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum. He was fumbling with the wrapper… and with how to handle the situation.

Clarice would help him.

“I don’t know him well. We met last night”, she started. Her French accent dripping with sarcasm. Mr. Franks turned a deep shade of red … a mix of anger and embarrassment. “We shared a drink though. Well… I poured him a special one at least.” she continued… The subtle manner in which she threw it in his face … what she did to him… was killing him. She continued, in a very conversational, matter of fact tone… “ As you fly back to South Africa, promise me you will never forget that drink we shared. Think of me… think of that drink… often .. Won‘t you please.” As the painful memory of her shoe pouring water down his throat replayed in his mind, he turned even more red. He knew he would likely never see her again… but that he would never forget that moment and how he felt… and he knew she was rubbing his nose in it. Frustrated…he dropped the stick of gum he had been fumbling with. Clarice looked down at the blue stick of gum contrasting against the expensive marble floor of the hotel lobby. She quickly bent down and picked it up while simultaneously popping her bare heel out of her expensive shoe. She dropped the gum in her shoe and slipped her foot back in, standing back up.

She continued to talk to Mr. Franks. He tried to be cordial… they talked for several long minutes… small talk mostly…all the while, he just waited impatiently for the clerk to finish with his bill. Finally, he handed the clerk his credit card.. The type of card you only have if you spend an exuberant amount of money. The clerk still worked, almost taking his time as he finished the close out process. When he handed the card over, he looked at Clarice and smiled saying, “Never seen one of those, have you honey? Probably never will either.” He chuckled to himself, pleased with his one liner comeback and convinced he had regained some leverage. Clarice, her next move already in play for several minutes, knew she would still have the last laugh… finally and ultimately put him in his place.

Clarice intentionally dropped a pen on the floor at her feet. She knelt to “pick it up“, and slid her fingers into her shoe… removing the warm and flattened stick of gum. While she knelt down she again slipped her foot out of the shoe and quickly ran the gum in between her toes.. Each of them… all four crevices, scrubbing the insides of her toes with the gum for a few seconds. It happened so quickly, nobody saw what happened. Nobody but Mr. Franks.. and Sam, who watched from a distance as he sipped his coffee. Amazed at how easily his nemesis had subjugated another man! Quickly, she stood back up and as Mr. Franks watched... partially frozen at her audacity, she pushed the warm, foul gum through his lips, gently with one finger… almost seductively. “Here, chew on this. It is your favorite flavor.” she said, determined to completely wipe all ego from this arrogant man.

His instinct was to spit it out.. right in this bitch’s face...but he knew she was also an important client to this hotel … a hotel with whom he had important business… and he had too many people standing around who knew him to act so crass. Clarice smiled and watched his every move intently, like a spider watching a bug struggle in the web she created… again having the absolute last laugh. Mr. Franks let the gum just sit on his tongue.. refusing to chew it.. waiting to walk outside to spit it out. But in the meantime, his saliva attacked the gum, as is the natural reaction to something in one’s mouth. Slowly, his mouth filled with the his saliva ….with the taste of mint… and shoe leather…and toe jam… little specks of dirt floating in his mouth. The credit card machine seemed to take forever.. Until eventually, he had to swallow… swallow the saliva that filled his mouth. Swallow her humiliating “gift”. Clarice just stood and watched… delighting in the emotions that ran across his face, as he turned the brightest red she had ever seen.

She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear, “Enjoy that gum, fatso… and always, always… remember that drink we shared.” Clarice walked away… ready to start her meeting Soon he would be a distant memory. A man who crossed her and was added to the list of the defeated. She may even forget these events. But he never would. Just as Sam never could forget. And somehow, watching this exchange tormented Sam… even though it wasn’t him. He just wanted her to lose - Even if it wasn’t he who won.

Sam, watching the events in the lobby couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of what made Clarice tick. It was clear to him now. Clarice despised arrogance. Especially arrogance that manifested itself as a sense of sexual entitlement towards her. The irony was she had the largest sense of entitlement in the world and her perfect record of victory made her und\bearably arrogant… at least to Sam! Life was truly unfair. Sam felt dejected as he headed into the meeting room..


The Butler and the Maid

The meeting went well. The team worked hard and had a few laughs. Except for repeatedly having to explain what happened to his eye , day one ended with no real hiccups for Sam. In fact, Sam welcomed the normalcy of a work meeting and interactions with his comrades. For the most part, he avoided direct conversation with both Regina and Clarice. When the day was over, the team had a 2 hour break and would then meet as a team for dinner. Sam was truly exhausted now. Having not slept well at all the night before… or on the train.. or since who knows when for that matter. These two hours would be used for a much needed nap. Or so he thought.

Regina tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to come to her room right away. Of course… so much for that nap.

Sam approached Regina’s room and double checked the number to make sure it was the right one. When he knocked he heard her voice yelling… “come in”.

Sam’s jaw dropped when he walked in. This was the biggest hotel room he had ever seen. The sweet emptied into a hue living room with separate kitchen and dining area. Through the cracked door, he could see the fancy bathroom complete with jacuzzi. There was a dining area and two French doors that he figured led to the master bedroom. His blood boiled as he compared this mansion of a hotel suite to his little room with one double bed. Regina was sitting on the sofa in the living room with the fire place on.

“Come here Sam.” Sam walked over to his boss/tormentor. Regina continued, “Sam, I left my outfits for tonight and tomorrow on the chair over there” She pointed to the dining area. “I need you to iron all that. Also, I want to wear those leather boots tonight” Again, she pointed… this time to another corner where a knee high pair of leather black boots sat against the wall next to a shoe shine box. “I need you to shine my boots when you finish with my clothes”

Sam’s blood boiled. This was a five star resort. Surely she could have sent her clothes out to be pressed and her boots to be shined. He couldn’t let this go.

“Why don’t you just get the staff to help you. I need to get ready too. And I wanted to take a nap.” he pleaded in a frustrated voice. Hoping against hope for some compassion.

“That would cost money! Why would I do that when I have you?” Regina snapped back.

Sam, like so many times before.. Would have quit on the spot. Even though he needed the money desperately, none of this was worth it. But.. She had him in this predicament because of all she knew… like so many times before he felt trapped.

So, as Regina sipped a glass of wine and watched the evening news, Sam worked. First ironing her outfit for the night… then ironing her outfit for tomorrow…then shining her boots. When he was done, he started to head for the door.

“Wait” Regina called out. “It has been a long day. Come rub my feet.. Then you may leave” Sam stopped in his tracks and shivered with anger. Was she serious? Could here be no end to his predicament?

“Regina.. I’m tired. I just ironed your clothes and shined your damned boots.. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. Rubbing my feet will be enough. Do you have a problem with that?”

Hell yeah he had a problem with that!! But did he persist in his objection? No. He slowly walked over to Regina, sitting smugly on the couch, and sat on the cushioned footstool in front of her.

“That’s more like it. Now, get these boots off.” Regina lifted one of her designer boots up for him to remove. She wore brown suede boots with fur around the tops. As Sam slowly pulled the boot off of her left leg, he saw her bare foot slide out and emerge. “Those boots are so warm and comfy. That fur lining on the inside keeps my feet toasty, but they get a bit hot.” As Sam started to knead on her foot, a deed that started to seem like it would forever signify his position in life, he noted that she was right Her foot was warm and a bit sweaty. But then.. what else was new? The sweaty smell didn’t even bother him that much… after licking them last night in their disgustingly sweaty “glory” this seemed mild by comparison.

Sam rubbed her left foot for about 10 minutes. All the while, Regina sipped her wine and watched TV. She had found one of her favorite television comedies. While he rubbed, she ignored him completely. She occasionally laughed at a funny part to her to program, but she never even looked at him. After about 10 minutes, still without speaking to him, she switched legs. When she placed her right boot in his lap, Sam took it as his cue. He worked the boot off of her right leg. He was about start massaging the right foot when Regina suddenly muted the TV. “I didn’t appreciate our little argument before”

Argument? All he did was practically beg for a break!

Regina continued, “You do what I say… when I say! Period. Don’t go growing a spine now!” Sam was seething! This arrogant bitch! He looked down like a school child being scolded by the principal. ”So” she went on, “You must prove you understand this simple fact. I need you to apologize”. Regina looked at her glass of wine, locked in momentary deep thought.

“I want you to kiss my toes… one at a time. And, after each kiss you must say… ‘I’m sorry Ms. Regina for protesting your request. I know rubbing your tired feet makes you happy and that’s all that matters to me” As she finished saying this, she lifted her newly uncovered right foot so that the big toe was within an inch of his lips. Sam couldn’t even describe the emotion that came at that moment. Was it anger? Shame? Humility? Rage? He really couldn’t place it… other than to say it ate him up! He pressed his lips to the bottom of her warm big toe and repeated the humiliating words. He kissed the next toe and again repeated the words. When he did it the third time, Regina bust out laughing at the pathetic site before her… almost drunk with power. Sam endured her laughter and completed his humiliating deed… five times.. Ending with the right pinky.

“You may proceed now… rub my foot!” Sam was amazed that after all he’d been through… after all his torment… he still felt such strong shame! She really seemed to revel in his utter destruction. As he administered his her massage, there was a knock on the door. “Come in” she yelled.

Sam almost died… did she just invite someone in? It could have been anyone! A co worker! What would he do when they walked in and saw him rubbing her feet. He was slightly relieved when the maid walked in. Then, he was embarrassed. No matter who it was, the compromising position he was in was a reminder of his predicament.. A predicament that Regina seemed all to comfortable with.

“oh.. I’m sorry Ms. Regina” the maid started, upset that she may have interrupted something.

“Don’t worry Elsa”.

Elsa? Sam sat amazed that she was on a first name basis with the help?

“This is Elsa. She’s a doll. She is from Norway.”

Sam looked at the maid. She was about 30 years old, fairly thin and had medium length blond hair. She wasn’t ugly, but she certainly was nothing special. All Sam could think about was why the hell didn’t Regina have Elsa do the ironing and boot shining?

“Elsa,” Regina continued. “This is my helper… my … butler. You can call him..” Regina paused, looking directly into Sam‘s eyes for a reaction. “Mr. Footman” Sam fumed at the description, even as he massaged her foot. The words hurt so bad because they were more or less true.

Elsa went about straightening up the bedroom and Sam continued rubbing Regina’s feet until she dismissed him. She went to hop in the shower and Sam went to get ready for dinner. No nap for him. His chance at rest gone with his dignity.

As he walked towards the door, Elsa calmly and politely said “Goodnight Mr. Footman.”, smiling in a pleasant way. Sam shot he the dirtiest look he could, startling her…unaware of what she did wrong. He slammed the door on his way out, grumbling to himself..


Stay tuned...

[hhhmmm]

John:

It would have been great if his tongue would have been doing the polishing on the soles of her boots:)

So, as Regina sipped a glass of wine and watched the evening news, Sam worked. First ironing her outfit for the night… then ironing her outfit for tomorrow…then shining her boots. When he was done, he started to head for the door.

I have a feeling that you're not into that scene, but it would have been cool:)

hhhmmm:)

[Razor]

"Still, this was a fair playing field.. I started to feel a real competitive streak… a real need to win on the only ground that Regina and I were equals. That’s the beauty of sports. I played my butt off… trying like my life depended on it… in a small way, my dignity did… any chance to beat her, to be better than her… I had to seize it. I didn’t. She won.. A close game by 2 points."

I can't tell you how hot this made me. WOW. I LOVE this kind of domination, the truest form of femdom, a woman defeating a man in some athletic or strength contest, an area a man should reign supreme. He's not just inferior cuz these women are smarter and work harder, he's inferior on the physical level as well. AMAZING!

"[Regina walked over to her defeated opponent, writhing in pain on the floor. She had offered him money, she had offered him dignity, she had offered him freedom… he was too weak to grab any of it… even as it all dangled in front of his face. She looked at him with unbridled arrogance… she was truly better than him…. And proved it yet again. Triumphantly, she walked over to him and placed the sole of her sneaker on his face. She raised her arms in the air and pretended that she had just won Wimbledon. She talked about herself in third person, as if she were a TV announcer “Regina defeats her opponent and the fans go wild…” she chuckled. Holding Sam’s injured face to the ground beneath her shoe, she blew kisses to the fake crowd.]"

Well, I'll have to finish the rest of the story some other time. I seriously blew my load after this. AMAZING.

[stivalo]

i love this story.
i love everything..
but still i'm hoping for his revolution..
these women are too bitch!
in the end i think they'll deserve to loose their pet.. maybe because they tightened the grip too much. maybe..

anyway.. every development you'll choose it will be a great novel!

[RULEDbyALYSSA]

I say you allow the maid to have a little "fun" with him.
Great stroy and i am looking forward to reading the rest!!!

[aussiefootslave]

Great story mate cant wait to read more thanks!!!

[John Blaze]

Stivalo,

I take it you were never the type to root for the bad guys in movies... LOl.

[stivalo]

i'm for the happy endings :D

[surfspy]

It doesn't get any better than this. Cleaning sweaty dirty feet after 3 hours of racquetball with no socks , and forced to do it. He needs to become a permanent fixture under her desk.

[Aramis]

Great stuff! Yes, bring on the maid for foot domination, but the other ladies are tough too! thank you for your work and hope you continue!!

[Razor]

I think a happy ending would entail him once and for all realizing that his destiny and place in life truly is at the feet of superior women. Acceptance is his only way out.

[John Blaze]

A Budding Friendship

Dinner that night was somewhat uneventful. Sam was pleased. Uneventful usually meant that he had some degree of normalcy in his life. In fact, the “boss” Clarice picked up the tab… the first time he had eaten a meal around Regina and not paid in weeks. Sam almost allowed himself to feel good for a while.

After dinner, most of the team retired to their rooms to rest up for the next day or finish some last minute work. Clarice invited Regina to the lobby bar to have a drink… the two were becoming quite chummy. Sam needed a drink too, although he didn’t want to socialize with his two hated antagonists. Sam went to the far end of the bar and ordered a few hard shots of liquor while the two women walked to the opposite end of the bar. Sam drank his first drink quickly, and sat looking at the two women. They sat at the bar, in their designer clothes… Regina in the clothes that he had ironed only a short time before… laughing and talking casually, without a care in the world. They looked so happy. Sam ordered another shot and downed it quickly. He sat there, pondering what his life had become and seethed as he observed the two hated women, having a blast. Sam lost any desire to sit there any longer, and walked towards the elevators to return to his room.

As Sam walked by the two women, Regina, obviously tipsy from several glasses of wine, called him over. Sam cringed, then stopped, then slowly approached the two women.

“Clarice,” Regina started slightly slurring her words. “Do you know what Clinton did for me last night?” Sam froze and started to turn white. “He took care of my tired feet after all of the games of racquetball.” Sam could hardly believe his ears… did she just “out” him to Clarice? Where was this going? Regina continued, “I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he just wanted to show his gratitude for working with me… so he soothed my feet for me as we rode back to the hotel. I told him not to, but his desire to show appreciation was so strong!”

This unbelievable bitch! She was throwing it in his face, subtly, to the woman he despised most! Sam just stood there and silently hoped with all his mind she would let this go.

“He does have a gift…my feet felt like new! And he gave me another foot massage today! What a sweetie he is.”

Clarice, slightly surprised at this, added her two cents. “Yeah.. He gave me a foot massage in my office a while back too. A very unique one at that!” Sam turned bright red as Clarice rubbed his face in the fact that…well… she had rubbed his face… with her foot under the desk in her office. Sam looked at the two women, both privately chiding him about how they abused him, both not realizing the other was doing the same thing… and Regina at least, knowing the full history. Sam looked down in shame, trying to not make it obvious that he was humiliated beyond belief and scared that all his secrets were about to come out.

“Regina joked, “Why Clinton, are you a closet foot fetishist? Handing out all these special massages?”

What the hell could Sam say to that? Other than to play along. “No, I just wanted to show my appreciation to my two great bosses.” he said, trying to sound sincere.

Regina, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, who knows… we may just need you to do that all the time to both of us…” she said laughing as if it were a joke, but Sam knew the seriousness behind her words. His mind burned with images of the two of them sitting together, sipping wine, laughing while he knelt and played the servant. This mental game of chess was not going his way, and he felt ashamed that even without physically making him do anything Regina and Clarice could torment him so.

He said his goodnights and continued on to bed, praying that the day would never come when everything was truly out in the open and his two enemies willingly joined forces!

A Bit of Rage


The next day was almost exactly the same as the one before. The meeting time seemed to fly by as the team worked on strategy. The meeting time, while work for most, was Sam’s favorite part of the day. It was the only time where he truly interacted with people as equals… when he felt normal. And, just like the day before, Regina brought all that to a crashing halt when she informed Sam that she needed him to go iron her things again. This time, she informed him, she would be going to the gym to workout during her pre dinner break, and that while she worked out she had a list of things for him to do. He was to wait 20 minutes, enough time for Regina to go change and leave for the gym, and then knock on the door. Elsa would let him in.

Sam fumed as he walked to his room. He had enough time to use the bathroom and change into some comfortable clothes, then in was off to Regina’s room. Sam knocked on the door and Elsa opened the door. The young Norwegian maid opened the door and greeted Sam with a smile. “Please come in, Mr. Footman”. Sam cringed, there was that damned name again!

She handed Sam his list of things to do… they were similar to the deeds from the previous day. Sam started by shining the boots Regina intended to wear that evening… tonight’s were dark brown. Then he had to go to the bedroom and fold the large piles of clothes on the bed and pt them up. He knew that Regina had thrown all these things on the bed without a care, looking for an outfit to wear, knowing she would have Sam fold them later. Sam did his deeds, cursing her under his breath the whole time! When Sam returned to the living room, he saw that Elsa was tidying up the kitchen and baking a cake. Regina must have asked for a cake. Why the hell couldn’t Elsa do all these things while she baked the cake? Why was he in servitude? Sam walked over to the ironing board and started to prepare Regina’s two outfits. The clothes Regina had left for him were nearly impossible to iron… the wrinkles would not seem to come out. Sam grew more and more agitated at this fact, and at the fact he even cared at all! Sam ironed over and over for what felt like forever. The entire time he ironed, Elsa looked at him with a perplexed look on her face.

Finally, Sam looked up at her angrily and snapped, “What the hell are you looking at?”

Elsa, sheepishly asked… “Mr. Footman, you don’t seem to iron very well. I thought a lady like Miss Regina would have a very skilled butler! Where did you train…”

That was the last straw. Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He had been treated like crap by Regina… he had been tormented his entire life by Clarice… but the maid?? No way.

“First of all”, he started putting the iron down, “don’t call me that… my name is not Mr. Footman”

“But Miss Regina said…”

“SHUT UP!”, Sam snapped again. “Secondly, despite what she told you… I’m not her butler! I work for her, but I’m a corporate executive”

Elsa shrunk away from this angry man. “I’m sorry if I offended you, but … why do you iron her clothes and rub her feet if you are not her butler?”

The fact that Sam did not have a logical answer to this logical question to justify his behavior incensed him even more! “Don’t worry about that! You’ve got nothing to say to me! You should be doing this crap! YOU’RE the maid here” Sam got some sense of vindication as Elsa shrank away more, finally… he could blow off some steam… finally he had someone who was clearly his subordinate! Sam continued, “I’m a top level executive and I should not have to do this crap… if you were on your job handling your business. Maybe I’ll complain to the management that our maid is incompetent.” Elsa looked truly scared. Sam continued with his power trip, “Yeah… would you loose your job? Hmm? Would you be loose what little servant money you make? Don’t be mad at me because your life turned out rotten” As Sam listened to his words, he realized it was what he really felt like saying to himself… but this was a great way to get the anger out!

He went on belittling Elsa for several minutes she stood there silently as he berated her. He even went so far as to suggest she was an unfit mother, unable to find “respectable work” to help raise her children. Elsa started crying and mumbled something about doing the best she could. Sam, felt good to sieze control… if not of his life, at last of something! Realizing he had the upper hand, told her to come and finish ironing these clothes… since she knew SO much about proper ironing technique.

Elsa protested, tears streaming down her face, “But Miss Regina said for you to…”

“Screw her and screw you! Now come be a good maid and iron these things… and hurry up before Regina gets back. If she finds out that I made you do this, I swear I’ll…”

Just as Elsa finished ironing the article of clothing, Sam heard a set of keys hit the table behind him. He quickly turned his head and saw Regina, in a similar workout outfit like the one she wore to play racquetball, standing in the living room. She looked both disgusted with him and sad for Elsa.


A New Low

Sam couldn’t really move… his anger subsided as his common sense overtook him. He would not test Regina.. He would not see if she’d make good on her promise to send him to jail.

“Um… um… Regina.. Um…”, Sam was speechless. “How was your workout?…how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough she said as she walked towards the both of them. She turned and smiled at Elsa, “The cake smells really good. Thank you.” Walking to the kitchen, she removed the cake from the oven and offered Elsa a napkin to dry her tears. Sam stood there, marveling at her kindness and nurturing ways…where were these ways when she dealt with him?

“Regina walked over to Sam and demanded his wallet. She flipped through it, removing the 46 dollars he had inside and flung the wallet to the side like a piece of trash. Sam watched in frustration as Regina tipped Elsa “for her trouble” with the contents of Sam’s wallet. “I’m sorry if my butler offended you”.

Elsa looked confused. “But Mr. Footman… or Mr. whatever.. Said he wasn’t your butler”

“Yes I heard that too.” Regina said looking Sam up and down. But, if he wasn’t my butler… would he do this?” Regina plopped down on the couch and told Sam to go pour her a glass of wine. Sam, somewhat reluctantly went and did as he was told. As Sam returned to Regina with the glass of wine, Regina looked at Elsa and said “See? Now he‘s gonna rub my tired, sweaty feet! There‘s nothing like getting a foot massage after a long day… and a hard workout to boot!”

Elsa, looked at Regina and lowered her head, still feeling humiliated from her exchange with Sam, “I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”

Regina looked at Elsa and then at Sam. Sam’s soul burned with her next words. “You work hard Elsa.. You deserve a break… I bet you’ve been on you feet all day. Let Sam here give you a foot massage.”

The proposal sounded great to Elsa, but how could she? She could loose her job. She tried to decline but Regina insisted… assuring her that this would be perfectly ok and that nobody would ever find out. Elsa reluctantly sat on the couch next to Regina. Elsa had the hotel’s standard maid’s uniform on, which looked a lot like the stereotypical French maid’s costume. She wore no stockings or socks and had black flats on he bare feet. Regina instructed Sam to get Elsa a glass of wine too, and to “get to work” on Elsa‘s feet. Sam slowly walked over and poured a glass of wine…for the maid. He was furious the predicament his big mouth had gotten him into.

He handed Elsa the glass of wine. She was starting to get more comfortable with the situation. Sam knelt in front of Elsa and pulled off each shoe. Elsa held her feet up in the air, exposing her soles to Sam. Immediately, he smelt the day’s hard work escape from Elsa’s feet and shoes. What’s more, her feet were very unkempt. Her nails were colorless and too long. Her feet had hard well established calluses on the heels and balls of the foot. And her feet were dirty. The balls and heels were covered in a light layer of black.

Regina looked down at her maids feet and said, “Oh no… this will never do. Sam, go get the purple box next to the sink.” Sam did as he was told and when he knelt back down at their feet and was instructed to open the box, he realized it was a foot spa kit. He emptied the contents onto the floor. There was a foot soaking basin, Epsom salt, files and nail clippers, a pumice stone, and one of those new dead skin pedicure tools... The one shaped like an egg that holds the dead skin filings. Regina got up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower Sam. Before you leave, I want her feet smooth and silky. I want you to do everything and anything she asks. If she is not completely happy and satisfied… then I am going to be very, very disappointed. And you know what that means.” Regina walked off.

Sam went to the sink to fill the foot bath. When he returned, he knelt back down started preparing the warm water by adding the salts and powdered soaps. He refused to look up… refused to acknowledge Elsa with eye contact! The maid? The maid? Was he truly expected to service even the maid? He couldn’t take it!

Elsa, finally grasping significance of the situation, started to relax. Miss Regina had put this arrogant man in his place… and now so would she. Elsa said to him, “Mr. corporate executive… look at you now!” Sam just looked down at the water he was preparing. Elsa took her left foot and with her toes under his chin, lifted his head so that he was looking at her in the eyes. “You are right.. You are not a butler.. You are more like a pet… like a dog” Elsa, incredibly kind by nature, was trying hard to be mean… to repay him for his words. “You don’t like the name Mr. Footman? How about… Spot?

Elsa laughed at her words, still holding his head up with her foot. Now she was starting to taste the power… she was starting to get intoxicated by it. “Bark for me little doggy.”, she said with a voice like one would use talking to a baby. “Come on.” Sam didn’t really understand how… but he found himself in increasingly humiliating positions. Each time he though he could go no lower, but he would still sink to a new low. Why? Was he cursed?

Sam already a bright shade of red, reluctantly complied with his orders, grumbling “woof…woof.” Elsa laughed out hysterically. Unbelievable…even the maid laughed at him now! Sam, determined to get this over with, tried to lower her feet into the water. Elsa yanked them back. She lifted one foot and looked at the sole herself. “Massage them first. You can massage them again after they are clean… but I want you to massage them now… while they are dirty.” Elsa was really getting into the spirit of exacting her revenge on this arrogant man now. She was a docile servant all day and it felt good to push somebody else around… to be the boss.

Did every single person in Sam’s life have a mean streak? Would each of them abuse him if given the chance. Swallowing his pride, Sam took her right foot into his hands. With his thumbs pressing hard into her soles, he began to massage the sweaty, dirty feet of Elsa the maid. Elsa never had a foot massage before and she moaned loudly with pleasure as he rid her of her day’s stress. He sat on the floor and ran his hands firmly over the warm, sweaty doles. This woman, who only minutes before was the subject of his ridicule, the vessel through which he had regained some power, the freaking maid… now smiled smugly in his face while he rubbed her feet. A new low indeed.

A Taste for Something Different

Sam had hated giving Regina foot massages, hated giving Clarice foot massages, despised with every fiber of his being licking either one of their feet. Still, somehow this felt lower than all of it…even the sweaty foot licking. This was a third tier hand me down humiliation…Clarice to Regina to… the maid. The thought made Sam boil with anger. Elsa was determined to push the limits… to see how far she could take this power trip… to see how badly she could humiliate Sam. After about 15 minutes of massaging her feet, Elsa tried the most degrading thing she could think of… unaware that it was slowly becoming normal for Sam. Slowly she raised her foot to his face…he knew what was coming. He dreaded the thought and the next few minutes as he watched her toes approach his mouth in slow motion. Even though he wanted to avoid what happened next at all costs, even as his eyes got large and bright with fear… he did nothing. He did nothing but let her do it. So, almost inevitably, she forced her toes through his lips. “Licky licky, Spot…. That’s a good dog” she offered him in a baby voice. The next few moments were night and day for them. The only similarity was that they made the same exact disgusted face… her at the sight and thought of what he was doing and him at the taste and thought of what he was doing.

For her, it was one of the most exciting moments she could recall. The feeling of absolute power that overcame her as she watched this man allow her to invade his mouth with her dirty toes; the warm, wet sensation of her toes in his mouth; the feeling of redemption from the horrible things he had said to her; the thrill of being in control and degrading this man freely - all of these things almost overwhelmed her emotions. Then… the great additional benefit that she had underestimated…it felt great! As she wiggled her toes in his mouth, the sensation was amazing. When he actually started to suck and lick, especially when his tongue slid in between her toes into the sensitive and hardly touched crevices…she couldn’t believe how great it felt! The day’s dirt and sweat being washed away. She actively squeezed and wiggled her toes, playing with his tongue.

For him, hell… pure hell. Clarice’s sweaty feet, Regina’s post gym sweaty feet… they tasted like sirloin steak next to these dirty, grimy toes. Sam couldn’t hide the disgust from his face as Elsa’s toes made themselves at home in his mouth. They tasted simultaneously sweet, sour, salty, slimy, and crusty. The smell made it worse. He almost gagged. Her toenails were so long that as she wiggled them around in his mouth they scratched the insides of his cheeks. Still, he played his part… he had to. So he sucked on them and ran his tongue all over and in between them thoroughly. Never did he stop thinking about the unpleasant fact that this was a woman who he met yesterday… the maid… who now saw fit to talk to him like a dog and soak her tired feet in his mouth. The shame he felt was off the scale. When he saw Regina standing there as he belittled Elsa, he knew he would have to eat his words… but eat her toes? Even he was caught off guard.

After about five minutes of this, Elsa switched feet and the torture continued. Elsa made all kinds of satisfied noises, as if an entire legion of masseuses were working out her stress. Sam slurped away on her toes, his mouth feeling and tasting like the bottom of a wet dumpster. When Elsa finally had enough of this treatment, she allowed him to continue with her pedicure. He soaked one foot while he worked on the other. He cut the nails, filed them down, and used the egg shaped pumice, the one that capture the filings to work on her thick calloused areas. When he could do no more, he let that foot soak and worked on the other one…going back and forth like this repeatedly letting each foot soak and soften before returning to work on it. Sam actually worked into a sweat, while Elsa sat back and sipped her wine, enjoying her day as queen. Sam’s mouth festered with the filth from her toes, and he just wanted to finish so he could go brush his teeth and rinse his mouth.

Regina had finished her shower and was just finishing putting on her outfit for the evening (complete with the boots he shined and the clothes he partially ironed). She now stood, brushing her hair, and watched Sam working hard on the maid’s feet.

“I’m finished” he offered them to her. Elsa held each foot up and inspected it visually and with her fingers. This was the best her feet looked and felt in years. They were clean and soft to the touch. Her toenails were even and short. Almost any trace of her calluses were all but gone. The work Sam had put in was evident in the foot basin. The water was a dark, dirty color and chunks of dead foot skin and clipped toenails floated at the top and sat at the bottom.

“I wont be going to dinner tonight, Regina… I don’t have much of an appetite. Please give my regards to everyone”

Regina nodded and asked Elsa, “How was it?”

“Pure heaven Miss Regina”

“Are you satisfied? Do you think he learned his lesson? Had enough for now?”

Elsa looked down at Sam. His eyes could not hide the contempt he had for her and the situation. It was the same look he had as he berated her. Some of those feelings came back… why did he have to insult her as a mother? Elsa, felt like he was still looking down on her… even after sucking her toes… even after scrubbing her feet. She could feel his arrogance still.

“Well, I feel bad. I don’t want him to miss dinner” With that Elsa walked over to her maid’s cart. She reached in a side pocket and pulled out a little can. It looked like tuna fish. It wasn’t. As she opened the can in the kitchen, she explained that she kept some top shelf dog food around for the little dogs of the people in the next suite. As she walked back over to Sam still sitting on the floor she wore a wide grin. “Hungry little doggy?” Sam looked at her in amazement… what happened to the polite little woman from before? What had he unleashed inside of her? “Beg for the food doggy. Come on… come on”

Sam looked at Regina as if to say… “Please get me out of this.” Regina just looked at him, still brushing her hair. Truth was, even she was caught off guard by the maid’s mean streak. Sam truly was within an inch of drawing the line in the sand right here. Humiliated by Clarice was bad, humiliated by Regina was bad, even what had just happened was atrocious… but to be fed dog food by the freaking maid? To be made to beg for it? He could hardly fathom it!

Then, he thought about jail. A nice long stint in jail when Regina ratted him out. He swallowed his pride, and held his arms up with the palms down like a little dog asking for dinner. Then, the lowest point in Sam’s life to date occurred… and that’s saying a lot!!! Elsa reached down and picked up the egg shaped foot scrubber. Then, to the absolute horror of Sam and surprise of Regina, she opened it and dumped the filings into the can. The powdery mountain of dead foot skin, freshly scraped from he filthy feet fell into the can of dog food. As she stirred it in good with a spoon, she simply smiled and said “Needed more seasoning”

For all of her shenanigans, even Regina was amazed by this move. Grimacing her face at the thought of what was about to happen. Sam was numb… his brain almost shut down… that is until Elsa scooped out a mix of the foot crud and dog food and offered it to Sam’s lips. He didn’t budge. “Open wide doggy” Elsa laughed. Sam didn’t move. He couldn’t. Elsa played with his lips using the spoon. He felt the tears of shame fill his eyes and run down the sides of his face. Slowly and with the utmost reluctance, he slightly parted his lips. With the slight crack, Elsa shoved the spoon in his mouth. Elsa flipped it around in his mouth and let the nasty concoction empty onto his tongue. “Eat it slowly… enjoy it.”

Sam made no noise, but the tears flowed freely down his face now. As he looked up from his knees and saw Elsa’s satisfied face, he slowly chewed the disgusting mix of foot grime and dog food. Then, he swallowed. The lowest point in his life. He started to gag and he heard Regina threaten that if he vomited she would make him lick it all back up. He fought back the disgust. This went on for several spoonfuls until Elsa felt she had proved her point. She glanced down a the dirty basin and you could almost see the light bulb go off in her head. She picked up her empty wine glass. Scooping up a hefty amount of the dirty foot water, she offered it to Sam with a smile to “Wash down dinner”

Regina was flabbergasted! This woman must be drunk with power. Still, she marveled at her creativity and her mean streak. Sam held the glass, staring into the dark cloudy water. He saw some dead skin. He saw a toenail. Again he gagged and again he fought it back. He put the glass to his lips and slowly gulped down two mouthfuls of the water he had used to clean the feet of the maid… when he had lowered himself to the lowest point… or at least the lowest point before this very second. He tasted her dead skin as it slid down his throat. He felt the toenail go down too. Dirty water and foot grime mixed with dog foot and dead foot skin all mixed in his mouth and throat. None of it sat too well in his stomach either. Was there no end to his torment? Was he so low that this behavior seemed perfectly normal to a maid?

Elsa looked down at Sam and said with contempt in her voice “Well, Mr. ‘corporate executive’… still feeling so superior?” Sam knelt before her, stripped of all dignity, all ego, and any shred of self respect. With that she picked up her things and headed for the door barefoot, leaving her shoes behind in front of the still kneeling man. “I’m not putting those things on my nice, soft, clean feet! I’ll buy some new ones for tomorrow… with this.” Then, she walked away, adding insult to injury by counting her tip from earlier in the evening. Right before she left she thanked Regina profusely for giving her the best night of her adult life. Sam knelt on the ground and watched the maid leave the room., counting HIS money, after debasing him in new an frighteningly humiliating ways. Regina was even slightly stunned. Sam was still crying, heavier now. His stomach kept trying to eject his “meal”. He turned to Regina and repeated that he would not be at dinner.

“Of course not… you just ate” was her casual reply as she too headed for the door. Sam ran out the room, pushing past her.

He sprinted for his room as fast as he could. He was crying while he ran, resembling a school child running home after being beaten up at school. When he got to his room he dove on the bed and sobbed loudly into his pillow. Any illusions or hoped he had that he was still a man… still had dignity… were long gone. Clarice and Regina had seen to that. And today, in the most disrespectful ways one could imagine, he was taught that lesson… by the maid. He cried out his frustrations and went to the bathroom to voimit, to brush his teeth, to gargle, to begin his attempts at removing the taste from his mouth. Just like the other night, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to. He knew he couldn’t remove the memory either. Now there was a new champion of horrible memories and recurring nightmares… and it was still, indirectly, all Clarice’s fault.


The Trip Home

Sam sat through the last part of the meeting in complete numbness. He had experienced untold shame and horror on this trip. So much so that he was on the verge of snapping… completely loosing it. Regina seemed to leave him alone, almost sensing that he was on the edge. Or perhaps, even she felt compelled to give him a break after last night. Either way, Sam was left alone. When it was time to go, he grabbed his things and headed for the train. He left very early, before Regina or Clarice could “ask” him to carry their bags or any other embarrassing “request”. As he left the lobby, he saw Elsa oushing her maid’s cart towards the elevator. The two of them locked eyes for a sfew moments. Elsa smiled widely. It was a mix of two smiles: the smile of a little child who had been naughty…and the smug smile of a person who had completely vanquished a foe. Sam looked down at the ground and started to blush with shame. He quickly speed walked out the hotel and down to the train.

Sam boarded the train and found a quiet place in the back of an empty car. He tried to sleep on the long trip home, but he couldn’t. His mind was weighed down with all sorts of horrible thoughts. One by one he mentally replayed his lowest moments from high school from work, and from the retreat. He his pride, his spirit, indeed his existance felt just like he was treated… like the scum on the bottom of Clarice’s or Regina’s shoe. He tried to think of anything else, but couldn’t. His mind kept floating to the album of shameful memories he carried with him.

Then, almost on cue, the two women walked by. They were on their way to the rear of the train to get some food from the dining car .They were discussing how great the trip was… how everyone’s morale would be so high on Monday. Sam huffed loudly at these words. As the two omen walked by him, he found himself angry that they even had to walk through his car… the empty car that he sat in specifically to be alone. The two women walked by and politely smiled at him as they passed. It was so weird to him how each of them could play him for the fool one minute, and then act as if everything was completely normal the next.

For the first time in a while, he really thought about his circumstance. No blocking it out,…no minimizing it… he thought deeply about it.

He thought:

I had never gotten anything I wanted in my life… not after my senior year. Clarice stole my athletic career, my college dreams, my professional aspirations, and finally every last ounce of my dignity. And what was my great sin? I had been a little arrogant at times… a little mean at times. In fact, there were many times when I wasn’t really a good guy at all. I used to think I was far superior in so many ways to everyone…until Clarice ended all that. I guess I spent the ret of my life trying to get that confidence back…be “the man” again. I probably went about many things the wrong way. I would admit that. My plots at revenge at every turn were reversed on me and made my life worse, so you could argue some karma there. But the single thing I did in high school to start the downward spiral? What forever changed my life? I lied about sex…just like a million other boys my age. And for that seemingly common sin, I was kept under her foot…for life. How could one person so dramatically change the trajectory of another person’s life… and have such a great time doing it? Luxuriating in every aspect of life, even while she strips away the dignity of someone else. All the while, empowering others to do the same… lifting others up to new heights by allowing them to step on my face! Can one person truly be so gifted that they can cause another person to hate them with every ounce of their being…only to repeatedly humiliate them even further at every turn? What was so wrong with ME winning… just once?

When the train arrived at its destination, Sam numbly grabbed his belongings and slowly exited the train. Regina, as luck would have it, exited right behind him. Sam walked slowly, emotionlessly towards his car. Regina walked up behind him and said as she passed, “I need you to pick up my clothes from the cleaners in the morning.” Of all the things that were piled on his brain, all the torment and humiliation, all the hatred… that one little thing, after the weekend he had just had, was the last drop that overflowed the bucket. Something inside of Sam just snapped.


TO BE CONCLUDED...

[Eddie08]

Can't wait. This is a great all-out assault on the senses. Really hope the final showdown occurs between Clarice and Sam--the other women are great, but it's Clarice who has left her "imprint" on this guy's life (and face) the most and I want to see her be the one to finish him! Perhaps by wiping her sweaty feet on his face like a welcome mat before she vanishes. Your call, your story. Whatever you do I'm sure it will be magnificent.

[paki_dog]

wow man....please continue and don't end this story. Just keep it going man. Its one of the best I have read in years

[footslavejoe]

amazing story,loved how you have put in her perspective as well adds a new dimension:)cheers!

[RVD7]

BRILLIANT!

Can't wait for the next chapter.

[stivalo]

let we read it before 2009 ;)

[gisagogo]

best of best

[Razor]

NOOOO to be concluded? That's a shame. So many possibiilties left, like clarice giving the maid a job, promoting her above him!

This is one of the greatest femdom/foot/humiliation stories of all time. And that is coming from someone who considers himself somewhat of a connoisseur of such stories, having read hundreds over the past 9 years.

[RULEDbyALYSSA]

I love your story and cant wait to hear the conclusion

[Eddie08]

We're waiting, Mr. Blaze. As soon as you have the time. Finish this bloke for the footwipe he is.

[John Blaze]

Happy New Year Everyone... hopefully the ending won't dissapoint!!

A Dark Turn of Events

A man can only be pushed so far. If he is denied manhood to the extent that he is denied humanity… denied dignity… he must reach a breaking point. And Sam Smith reached that point. He was unable to rationalize his behavior anymore… unable to find a reason to maintain his circumstances. Lack of money… homelessness… prison… none of these scared him anymore. He was done being a slave… an animal. Since these women had reduced him to the state of a subhuman thing… an object of ridicule whose entire wretched existence was to please them and endure constant pain and shame… that is how he would behave… like a cornered beast!

He wasted little time and little thought on nuances. He had tried in the pat… in high school… in the office… at the resort… to get revenge in some unique or extravagant way. Now, he didn’t bother. He just wanted it over… he wanted it all to end.

It was all Clarice’s fault. Regina had shown him new levels of shame and degradation. New amounts of pain and humiliation. New lows of hopelessness and distress. He needed in a primal way to make Regina feel pain, shame, and then to end it... His way.

But first, he thought, he had to take care of the source of it all. The point in his life where everything started to change… the trajectory of his entire existence took a downward spiral…was in that gym all those years ago. Where Clarice Favreaux ended any hope of his athletic career and started her reign… her reign over his senior year. Little did he know she would indeed reign over his life!! His entire life from that moment was a downward spiral… any occasional shot at redemption was repeatedly extinguished like a cigarette butt being grinded beneath her expensive shoe.

This would be the end…it all must stop. For once, she would not win… she would experience the ultimate loss. Sam smiled a deranged smile as he entered the gun store, thinking to himself - “Clarice first… then Regina. This will be good!!!”


Home Invasion

Sam didn’t go into work. He called out sick. Instead he went directly to Clarice’s house. He was amazed at her luxurious abode! She truly lived like a queen. The mansion, for all of its splendor, was fairly simple to break into. It’s amazing what you can find online. Sam had read all he needed to know to cut the silent alarm, disable the phone lines, and break in with ease. He spent the next hours walking around her house… growing angrier and angrier at the lifestyle she led. In stark contrast to his modest home… one which he couldn’t even afford anymore thanks to her and Regina. He almost quivered with anticipation of getting even. He sat on her huge, soft bed… with the shotgun in his lap… and waited.

The hours eventually passed by and he heard her come in through the front door downstairs. She walked about back and forth on the first floor, then he heard her come up the stairs. He heard her approach the bedroom door. He stood waiting, shotgun pointed at the doorway. A huge smile came over his face… this was better than sex!

Clarice opened her bedroom door and saw Sam standing there… pointing a shotgun at her. For the first time that Sam could ever remember, Clarice looked scared… confused… unsure of her next move.

“Hello Clarice…” Sam started with a maniacal grin on his face.

Clarice looked scared. Sam was delighted!!! He had the upper hand!!!

“Clinton… what are you…?

“Shut up! Shut up and listen!”

Sam started talking… spilling his guts really. He wanted her to know everything… all he felt and why she would die. But most importantly, that he had not lost after all… that in the end, he had won!!

Sam explained who he really was. That he was not Clinton, but Sam Smith. Then he walked through all of his emotions. For twenty minutes, he stood there explaining how she had crushed his dreams… athletics, Harvard, his future… how he moved to escape only for her to become his boss… how he felt when she shamed him under her desk, using his facial features as a foot massager all those months ago… how his financial life was in turmoil thanks both to his inability to hold a job before this one due to his lack of a strong formal education {her fault} and her demoting him at his current job and cutting his pay. Then, he unloaded, how Regina abused her power… how she had him by the balls due to catching him red handed trying to embezzle and blackmail Clarice…and then walked through, detail by shameful detail, all of his torture under Regina. He took special time to explain how, of all things, how much he hated feet and how degrading the actions of Regina and Clarice had been! It truly caused him emotional scars to retell all of these details… to admit to her what she had done to him. But it was necessary for closure. He needed her to realize why this was happening… that her years of horrible karma had returned to burn her… and, most importantly, that if all of this was indeed related…then the timeline was constant. That meant, he had won. Although he may have lost many “rounds” he had won the “fight”. This was a key factor that she must know! She must know he had won in the long run! He concluded by saying “I hate the smell of your stinking feet… and Regina’s stinking feet! It kills me that I have been made to lick and suck them! Who does that to another person? I hate your success! And that it came at the cost of my free fall! That you feel so superior to everyone around you all the time! You cannot do whatever you want to people and walk off into the sunset! I hate what you’ve made me into!” Sam’s anger subsided and a huge, heartfelt grin came across his face. “But today I regain my manhood! I’ve dreamed about this day for over 10 years! I won’t ever smell anyone’s feet in my face again! Today the only thing that I’ll smell is your stinking corpse!”

When he finished, he studied Clarice’s face. Waiting for her to give him some much needed self esteem back. Would she cry? Would she beg for her life? He could hardly wait to see. What he got was slightly different. She looked… amused. As she pieced his life story together…she found amusement… even with a gun in her face!

“So”, she began. “You mean to tell me that your entire life went downhill thanks to me? That you were so tormented by my memory that you had nightmares about my… feet? All the while, I lived out some of the best years of my life!! That years later, when you thought you had finally made a new life for yourself, I came and took it all away… that through some twist of fate you still wound up at my feet… in the most degrading way?! That thanks to me you can barely afford to live! And after plotting your revenge on me, instead of redemption you were reduced to servitude and used by Regina in unthinkably shameful ways for her pleasure and amusement?!” Clarice paused to think about Regina… who knew she had all that inside of her? Clarice, even with the gun in her face chuckled, shaking her head at the odds of all of this. “Your life is truly…pathetic! You poor, miserable little man. Come, let me cut you a check so you can get on with your life.”

This unimaginably arrogant bitch! Did she think she could seize this moment… seize control yet again?

“This is not about money!” Sam shouted, extremely frustrated! At that moment he realized that death was too quick for her! She must feel pain, shame, defeat. If she was ever to truly understand what it felt like, he couldn’t simply kill her. His mind raced with all the wonderfully horrible things he could do to her… surely, she would understand his pain!!

He started to list them out to her… beat her black and blue till he tired or felt like stopping… lock her in the basement and starve her… then make her eat his feces… make her do the foot rubbing and foot licking Regina felt so entitled to demand.. He threatened Clarice with everything he could think of! He’d kidnap Regina… keep them both in captivity like caged animals and live out of her house.. Live in luxury. In fact… why should he live check to check when she had so much money? He could use her money to live of… like Regina had done to him… pay off those debts… start to live good. He had paid the price… surely, he deserved at least that! If he could convince people she had gone back to France, and taken Regina with her, he could keep it up for a very long time… until he got enough money to disappear, forever… into the sunset with the last laugh! Sam almost shook with excitement at the opportunity in front of him.

It could start right now. “Reach in that ridiculously expensive bag of yours… SLOWLY… and get me your wallet. I’m gonna start living the good life right now.” Slowly, looking incredibly scared, Clarice reached into her bag. Her hand emerged slowly.. Holding… was that a wallet?

By the time Sam realized it wasn’t it was too late. The wires hit his body and he felt white hot fire engulf him… paralyzing him. He tried to squeeze the trigger… the gun went off, pointing straight up and blew a whole in the ceiling. He hit the ground hard, shaking and convulsing uncontrollably. The bitch had a taser in her purse??!!
Clarice released the button and Sam just lay there in pain. Semi rolling on the floor and semi paralyzed. Clarice walked slowly over to his body. She placed her shoe on his side and rolled him over onto his back.

A Familiar Place

As Sam’s brain started to work again, he looked up and saw Clarice’s smiling face staring down at him. His thoughts raced a mile a minute!: “ No! No! No! No! This isn’t happening… this couldn’t be happening! I was in control! I had her… she was mine! How did she turn it? What was my mistake? She’s smiling at me! This bitch is standing over me… smiling! She’s in control! How is she in control?”

Clarice started talking softly to Sam, in that damned French accent he hated so much! “Sam… you were going to kill me, no? And do some really awful, awful things to me!” She looked up at the hole in her ceiling, realizing that hole could have been in her chest! “Do you like my little taser gun? Its special. I had it specially made. Most taser guns have a one shot deal. Mine…” She smiled down at Sam, still unable to move as she continued,
“Mine will fire currents as many times as I like as long as those little wires stay connected to your body.”

Sam wanted to yank the wires out, but his arms wouldn’t work properly yet. Clarice didn’t give him that chance. She pushed the button again and watched with delight as Sam convulsed around in agony at her feet. As the pain subsided again, he heard a familiar sound. Clarice was laughing hysterically… delighting in his pain, in this last crushing defeat, in her victory.

As Sam lay there, unable to really move or function, he watched Clarice walk away. She returned with some stockings from her underwear drawer and tied his hands firmly behind his back. She then tied his ankles together tightly and walked back around to face him, again rolling him on his back with her foot.

Sam’s mind wandered. If she was capable of doing all she had done to him when his sins where only some juvenile lies and arrogance, if she was capable of destroying that man at the resort for some arrogant sexual comments, what was she going to do to a man who tried to kill her???

Clarice again smiled down into his face. “Sam… oh Sam… what must be going through your mind right now. To have endured all you endured… plotting and resorting to the ultimate attempt at revenge… only to wind up at my feet anyway… always the loser!” As Clarice laughed hysterically in his face, almost crying she was laughing so hard… Sam started crying for a different reason. Tears ran down his face as he screamed… “Stop it… stop laughing at me!” He sounded like a school child being bullied in the playground… he felt completely out of control… completely helpless. Indeed, he was.

The laughing didn’t stop. Instead, Clarice leaned over his face and smile down saying, “You were going to kill me! You were a big, tough bad man…remember! Stop crying like a little girl” She parted her lips, and slowly, let a glob of saliva slide out., Sam looked in horror, still unable to really move his body enough to avoid it. He watched in horror as the spit seemed to hang in slow motion… and then drop…. SPLAT… on the bridge of his nose and then run down his face into his left eye. He shut his eyes tight, to avoid the spit, and felt it slowly pool on his face and eye socket. Again, he heard her laughter.

“That was not very ladylike of me”, Clarice said half jokingly…. Then she pressed the button. Sam, still bound, flopped around like a freshly caught fish trying to breathe out of water. When the pain stopped, all he could think about was ending this torture.

Once Sam‘s brain and motor skills started to function, he let out… absolutely defeated. “Please… no more… no… more” Sam whispered these words, exhausted and totally spent… realizing that his great moment was again stolen from him. Stolen from him and turned on him… again the loser… again the jester.

For the third time Clarice rolled him on his back with her foot. She looked him directly in the eye and then lifted her shiny black high heeled pump over his mouth. She said in a low seductive voice - “Beg me… beg me to stop … lick my shoe.” Sam looked up at the scuffed sole of the expensive shoe… his vision was blurred as he looked up through a mix of his tears and a film of her saliva as it rested in his eye.

Slowly, he extended his tongue… all delusions of grandeur taking a back seat to the need to stop this torment. But that didn’t help the shame… the overwhelming sense of defeat. He struggled to control his movements as he still twitched involuntarily from the repeated shocks. But, he managed to lap away at her shoe sole for a few moments, tasting the dirt and dust from her day’s travels. “Please..”,. he cried, “no more”.

She pressed the button a fourth time… having made him humiliate himself in vain. When the pain stopped this time, Sam just laid there, more or less unconscious. Clarice walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, staring at him and waiting for him to return to full functionality.

When Sam came to, he was truly scared. He didn’t know what to do… what she would do. Sam lay on his side, looking at Clarice sitting on the foot of the bed, staring at him with a mix of contempt and amusement. He tried to look around for the gun… it was gone. He felt even more helpless as his slim chances of getting out of this went away. He was completely and mercilessly at her disposal.

“So, you hate the smell of my feet huh? It makes you sick to feel those old memories come back. Makes you feel sub human to be completely disgraced and disrespected huh?” Clarice sat on the bed in her expensive pant suit, looking like every ounce of the well paid executive she was. She slid her shoes off and lifted her foot over her opposite thigh. Sam watched as she removed first the one stocking and then the other. They were the mid-calf length nude colored stocking/socks business women wear under pants to make it seem like they have nylons on. She walked back over to him carrying the stockings, her bare feet in front of his face. She had her toes painted a deep burgundy red, and even inches from his face he could smell them. That familiar, jst stong enough to notice odor. She placed the damp bare sole on the side of his face and started to apply pressure until a hefty portion of her weight rested on his head, mashing the side of his face into the carpet and contorting his features. “But see how nicely your face functions as my footstool? Why deny your destiny… this is your highest possible point in life. You must climb the highest mountain you can find! You must fight, struggle , and claw… just to get high enough to survive… to exist. And at that highest point, I‘m already there… waiting for you…ready to place my foot on your face as I rest, and then use it as a stepping stone to climb even higher! . Can‘t you see? From my vantage point… you are right where you belong.” Again she chuckled, truly enjoying this time to rub it in…truly enjoying how much she knew this was killing him.


She reached down and stuffed the foot of the one stocking in his mouth… just the foot of it. He had almost forgotten how much her feet could sweat, but if the damp sole on his head didn’t remind him, the soaked through foot of the stocking immediately did! It filled his mouth with the foul taste of her foot… a taste he had dreaded since high school and tasted now, for the first time in all these years… as he feared he would! This simple fact truly proved his hatred for her. Despite massaging and licking Regina’s feet… and the dirty, crusty feet of Elsa the maid… being forced to yet again taste the ffoot sweat of his true rival seemed to trump it all! She took the other stocking and draped it over his head, making him look like a bank robber. She played with the positioning until the soaking wet foot part was directly covering his nose area.

When she was satisfied with the exact location of both stockings she returned to her seat at the foot of the bed and looked at him. Sam laid there, hands tied behind his back…ankles tied together…one sweaty stockinged foot in his mouth… the other covering his nose. All he could taste was her feet, all he could smell was her feet, he felt truly pathetic… is this how his dream of redemption would end? Clarice looked at her handy work, thought about all the humiliating thoughts that must be running through his mind… having just explained his hatred for her and her feet… and laughed… yet again. “Suck the sweat out.” Clarice giggled, raising the taser gun as if she would press it again. Sam sucked on her foul foot sweat, all the while inhaling the pungent smell through his nose… living in a world made of Clarice’s feet. He sobbed uncontrollably, even as he sucked… deep, pitiful, unearthly sobs. For a split second minutes before this moment, he could almost taste victory…taste redemption… taste the powerful feeling of being in control, control of his enemy…his life! Now, all he tasted was the sweat from Clarice’s feet. All the while Clarice looked on, swelling with pride at her exhilarating victory.

Clarice took out her cell phone and snapped a shot of the pathetic sight. “I’ll send this to Regina later, I’m sure she’ll get a chuckle.”

Sam couldn’t possibly get any lower as he thought of Regina, oblivious to all of this, finding out that he had plotted to kill her but was reduced to this. She would find it hilarious. She would never feel any pain for her actions… EVER. He could almost hear her laughter.


Coming Full Circle

Clarice slipped her shoes back on and walked over to Sam. She placed the sole of her shoe on the side of his nylon covered face… the same sole he had been forced to lick earlier. She looked down at him and said triumphantly, “You, despite all of your efforts, have wound up the little pathetic fool, under my foot. You are truly beneath me. Like some dirt beneath my shoe.” With that she place her full weight on his head and walked off as she stepped on his face. Just like she did in the gym that day… just like she did at prom… is this really how he would let it end. Clarice walked out the room and he heard her on the cell phone calling the police. As he slowly regained some strength he struggled against his bonds. This would not be how it ends! This couldn’t be the final chapter! Sam got more and more energy as the adrenaline fueled him… as his hatred fueled him. He got the wrists to loosen a little. Then a little more. Soon he broke his hands free and quickly removed the taser wires. Next his smelly mask and gag! Then he untied his ankles. He struggled to his feet, still weak!

This is not how this would end! She wouldn’t win again… stepping on his face and leaving him in shame… walking off to enjoy life! Not this time! He fumed at the thought and got enough adrenaline for his tormented body to work. As Clarice walked back in the room he charged her… tackling her. He wrapped his armsa round her and tried to run her through the wall. They fell out of control, busting through her double French doors onto her balcony.

They both hit the ground and rolled over. Both hopping up as fast as they could… she was quicker… there were many reasons for this - she was in better shape, her body was not battered and bruised, she had slept well while on the retreat while he laid awake in anguish…but, whatever the reason… she was quicker. She was up and he was only to one knee. He wondered at that very vulnerable moment, did she still practice her Savate? His answer came a fraction of a second later when her foot flew quickly and her shoe landed squarely on his nose…instantly breaking it. He stumbled backwards, standing up. Before he could really react, her foot shot a clean kick directly at his groin. He doubled over in pain, grabbing his aching manhood. As his face came forward and down, her foot came forward and up. She kicked his face with a chorus line kick, her foot smacking his mouth and continuing up to her head. The point of her shoe, dislodged one of his front teeth as his head snapped back violently, again standing him up. He stumbled backwards a second time, this time out of control and hit the banister… flipping over it. Instinctively, he grabbed the ledge with one hand and the base of the rail with the other. as he hung on for dear life…hanging over her marble front patio from the second story.

“Please… please help me… don’t let me fall”, he begged his lifelong tormentor… reduced to now his lowest point ever… depending on her for some help… having just gotten his ass kicked. He kept begging her, as his grasp slipped. She just stood there, smiling in his face, apparently delighting in what was about to happen. The thought of this man entering her home… to kill her…to torture her… unleashed her darkest feelings and made her, at that moment, his worst nightmare. But, he wondered, would she just let him fall? Could she be that cold? “Please… give me a hand!” He begged one last time.

Instead, she extended her leg and offered him her foot through the railing bars… how apropos! He grabbed at her pant suit with one hand, and then the other… holding her extended calf as she held the railing bracing herself… his life in her hands… or at her feet. Then… his hands started slipping down her smooth pant leg. He panicked.. Again begging for a hand! Nothing came. His hands slipped further, until he held onto her bare ankle. He was flooded with panic and fear now! His hands kept slipping down, until he now touched the back of her shoe. All the while looking into her eyes… begging for a hand. His fingers caught the back of her foot, slipping the back of her shoe off her heel… and his hands slid briefly over her smooth soft foot as he fell away uncovering her foot as he dropped… looking up at her smiling face… holding her shoe!

He had come full circle… as he fell he saw her smiling face and flashes of that day in the gym, where the same exact thing had happened years before, played in his mind. The déjà vu was a fitting end to this saga. He fell, her shoe in his hands, the taste of her foot sweat in his mouth, the smell in his nose, her smiling face and barefoot within his sight… it seemed like he had all the time in the world to reflect… to replay his life. Even he appreciated the irony of this fitting final defeat. He slammed into the marble floor, losing consciousness… still holding her shoe.
























































...


Epilogue

So this is it… this is how my story ends - laying in a hospital bed for weeks, my arm handcuffed to the bed. That’s what they do to criminals, even those recovering with two broken legs and fractured arms. Seems silly really. I couldn’t run off if I tried. By now, I know I am destined for jail. My court appointed defense attorney has been in to see me several times. My case is bad. On top of the assault with a deadly weapon charge, the prosecution is trying to decide whether to go for attempted murder or attempted kidnapping. They also have me on breaking and entering. Even worse, Regina handed over all of the evidence she had on me for extortion and identity theft. This was the most painful piece of it all. After all I went through… after allowing myself to sink to newer and newer lows… I am going to jail anyway. Yet another example of my life’s futility.

I tried to explain my case. Turns out, nobody really believes me enough… or cares enough… for anything to matter in court. Being enslaved by two women at work until you reached temporary insanity… seems like a pipe dream defense to most people. After all, who broke into who’s house with a gun?

Speaking of which, the story hit the local television stations like a an explosion! Local deranged man attacks local business woman in her home. The spin on the story? How she disarmed me and humiliated me before calling the police! Clarice had provided that photo she took to the media, of me on the floor sucking on one stocking with the other covering my face and crying hysterically. I was all over he news. “The Taste of De-Feet” was one headline, “Crybaby Bandit Meets Shameful End” was the other. It almost seemed fitting that my humiliation was so complete…so public… how else could this end. It wasn’t long until some reporters dug up those old high school video clips. This is the motivation the prosecution is pursuing… years of hatred built up to a rage and sent over the edge by the fact that she wound up as my boss. They’re actually pretty close… except they don’t know about the additional humiliations Clarice and Regina put me through… the true reasons I snapped. And, again in a fitting manner, they won’t listen to me!

But those video clips won’t stop playing… me kneeling at prom sucking her toes… licking her feet. They’ve played on the news like a marathon. Then the real “clever” headlines came out. “De-Feeted Twice” was one that seemed to get a chuckle from the nurses at the hospital. It feels like a bad dream… well I guess this all does…but to have your most embarrassing moment from high school broadcast to the world… even as you lay, thanks to the same person, battered in a hospital bed preparing to face serious jail time… you have no idea what that feels like! Nobody can believe, just as I can’t, that years later as I sought revenge I wound up bound and gagged on the floor, tasting her feet again. Humiliated again. I have found myself hoping some major catastrophe would happen just so there was other news to report. But that never happened. Why would I get a break? So I just don’t watch it on anymore. Now, I can’t even watch TV in my hospital bed thanks to Clarice… I just lay here and stare at the ceiling.

I have cried for myself so much, I don’t think I have any tears left. As I look to my right at the envelope I received days earlier, I can still hear her laughter… still smell and taste her feet.

It was a “care package” from Clarice. There was a letter from Clarice with a series of pictures paper clipped together. The pictures were each carefully selected to burn me up. I try to not care… to not let her continue to win… but who am I kidding. There was a picture of her and Regina looking incredibly happy in the south of France… a trip the two new “friends” are still on. There was a picture of her graduation ceremony at Harvard when she got her MBA. There was a picture from the school play, taken from the audience, of her holding her bouquet of roses as she received a standing ovation from the audience. If you looked real hard, you could see me slightly offstage staring at her with hatred. I think that was the night I was made to massage her feet…for the first time.

The letter is a fitting and symbolic punctuation on my relationship with Clarice Favreaux. It serves as further proof of Clarice’s dominance over my world. A reminder that even now, laying here broken and preparing fro prison, I can’t escape her reach…her ridicule… her footprint!

The letter reads:

Sam,

Having a great time in Nice. Life is truly magnificent. Sorry that you could never beat me at anything. Sorry that my life has been fantastic and yours has been abysmal. When you’re in prison, promise to think of me often. I enclosed something that should help.

Sincerely,
Clarice.

Taped to the page was one more picture…a close up photo of the sole of her foot. On the back was written “When you’re in prison and you miss me, sprinkle some salt on this photo and lick it. You will feel right at home.”


When I first read it days ago, I just wallowed in my misery, mad at my self for being such a failure…unable to avoid even this final insult… this last humiliation… my place at her feet. I will never fully come to grips with her place in life relative to mine. But, I often think about those words she said to me that last day… about me being destined to be her stepping stone. I can’t accept it but I must admit - Life has taught me a hard lesson - Clarice always gets the last word… and she always wins.



THE END

[Eddie08]

Congratulations, Mr. Blaze. The story is amazing. It's well-written, easy to read, and fringely erotic. You also do an excellent job at making its situations credible, and its characters palpable.

Another less obvious strength is the way you were able to carry the dramatic irony across all the way to the end: Sam thinks he's gonna win the next time, but we as the audience delight in knowing where he's definitely gonna end up. It's funny, sexy, and as hot and moist as Jessica Biel's feet.

[RVD7]

CLASSIC!

Thank you for writing this epic.

[Sauur]

Thank you for this story. It was amazing!

[Aramis]

I echo Sauur; this was a very, very enjoyable tale. Thank you, and I hope you are inspired t write others!!

[planner1]

John,

Outstanding story. Well written and creative and it played to a lot of interests on this forum judging by the comments.

Thanks,
Ray

[stivalo]

this is an epic tale.
i love your work. thank you!!!

[Eddie08]

My favorite parts were 1) when Sam got stuck with the duty of massaging Clarice's feet backstage and it became a routine, 2) when Sam got stuck under Clarice's desk and she rubbed her stockinged feet all over Sam's nose and face 3) and the climatic scene at Clarice's home where she turns the tables on him when he thinks he has control and tasers him and then puts one moist stocking in his mouth and the other over his head. Of course, the homecoming dance embarrassment caught on YouTube and the initial fight in the gym were awesome as well. If only women were this devious in real life, I'd never be soft again.

John, I'd be honored if you'd check out and comment on my "Exit Sandman" story, which has a couple of chapters still to go.

Great work and I hope you write some more stories in the future.

[subshag]

This story definitely needs to be in the HoF. And Mr.Blaze please do share with us who are worthless writers your brilliant stories in the future.

[dennisbk]

Hey Mr. Blaze, great job :) I just finished reading chapter 1 and I am really looking forward to the sequels. What I love most about your story is that it's not reduced to worshipping feet, but about a life being destroyed by a beautiful bitchy girl. I have always found the psychologial part to be more important than the actual foot worship or whatever happens, and this story brings out very well this psychological dimension. Thumbs up :)

[mistressweronika]

I like it :)