Foot Fetish 12
Dima's morning began with a WhatsApp message from Viktor, which contained the text:
— We're looking forward to seeing you today at the new workplace! I hope you haven't forgotten! Here's a reminder – followed by a photo.
Opening the photo, or rather the screenshot, Dima saw himself standing in Lydia Ivanovna's office, with Viktor standing next to him reading his resume, holding a piece of paper, and Yulia Sergeevna also sitting at the desk.
Lydia Ivanovna herself wasn't in the photo; probably, the surveillance camera that recorded the video was in the very corner of the office, and he had stupidly not noticed it – flashed through Dima's mind. His head even spun from the unexpected information received, and he sat back down on the bed.
He remembered, of course, what happened next in that office, and shame overwhelmed him again, and his face broke out in a sweat.
— What is this? Blackmail? A reminder that if he doesn't come to work? And that this video could end up on the internet and spread among his acquaintances if he doesn't? Ugh, Dima spat again a little, already recalling that familiar taste on his lips.
— Fuckers! Just fuckers! – turning off his cell phone, Dima stared somewhere far down the street through his apartment window.
— Bitches! They really got me, of course! Well, alright! I'm not a fool either! I need a plan! A plan to get out of this shit and also so that I can reach and delete that video! Steal it! Destroy it! And then! Then I'll get my revenge! – Dima tried to calm himself and restore his self-esteem, which had fallen to the floor, at least inside.
He had practically been raped yesterday, and that taste and smell of pussy returned to his lips and nose. Dima got up from the bed and ran to brush his teeth again, looking at himself in the mirror, almost crying.
— Fuck, fuck, how can this happen? – Dima continued talking to his other self, which was calming him down again and reassuringly whispered that this was normal, that he was actually a handsome guy whom Lydia Ivanovna herself had simply lusted after, and this was just a thorny path to her!
Dima, feeling what he thought were contemptuous glances on him, entered the building and took the elevator to the 29th floor, where the agency's office was located, now his workplace and the place where he had been humiliated by that bitch.
With trembling hands, he opened the door to the reception area and peered in hesitantly.
— Aha, you came. Hello! – Viktor greeted him joyfully.
— Hello – Dima greeted him.
Viktor was alone in the office; the rapist Yulia Sergeevna wasn't at her desk, but it was clear she was somewhere nearby. A coffee cup with red lipstick marks was on the desk. Dima somehow subconsciously called her a rapist; he was very hurt that she, such a beautiful girl, had treated him that way.
— Let's go – Viktor led Dima to the HR office, where he was met with an unpleasant look by a beautiful young girl. She was a brunette, about 170 cm tall, with gorgeous straight hair down to her shoulder blades, plump appetizing lips, a perky second-size chest covered by a blouse, and slender legs showing from under a miniskirt.
— Stop, stop, stop – Karina stretched out her delicate hands in front of her; that was the HR girl's name – you, sit at the table – she pointed a finger at Dima – and you, give me the documents and get lost – she said it not rudely, but with clear disrespect!
Karina was the beloved girlfriend of Bagira – Alina Romanovna, who was also the beloved friend of Lydia Ivanovna. Alina Romanovna specifically asked Lydia Ivanovna to hire Karina at her place, so that she would be, as it were, under the supervision of her strict friend, and also to keep her busy with work. Karina was terribly unhappy with this decision, but still didn't argue with Alina Romanovna, didn't dare! She was the bottom in their relationship, and Lydia Ivanovna was the equal, so Karina felt inner fear and jealousy, which was very difficult to hide. She even sometimes, as she thought, unintentionally showed disrespect to Lydia Ivanovna, although she didn't want to offend her! Or maybe she did!
Lydia Ivanovna, of course, felt and saw this, and Alina Romanovna also saw and understood it, but their wisdom bore fruit.
Her work mainly consisted of filling out forms for employees and transferring data to accounting. Karina was unsociable; her thoughts were only about Alina, about that beautiful green-eyed beast, about the mole under her left breast, or rather a small birthmark, so beloved by Karina. Her gaze, from which everyone trembled! And even Karina was afraid of her and clung to her at every opportunity, feeling protected from everyone and everything! Alina Romanovna was a brunette, like Karina, and about the same height, slightly taller.
And Karina also terribly disliked men, who for her were always uncouth, rude Neanderthals, with drool on their disgusting lips, in whose eyes one could always read base lust! And only lust!
— Give me the documents – without even greeting the guys, Karina approached the table from the window and looked questioningly at Viktor, who immediately bowed his head and left, and Dima sat on the chair.
Dima noticed that Viktor had left, or even crawled away, and was surprised by this; his already depressed state sank even lower somewhere into his stomach, making him even feel a little sick.
The feeling that everyone here knew everything about him, of course, didn't leave him, and Karina's obvious disgusting behavior showed it without any doubt. Even when he wanted to ask something, he was immediately stopped by Karina's facial expression.
As soon as Dima opened his mouth, she immediately covered her ears with her hands and, shaking her head, said
— Shut up right now – and when Dima shut up, removed her hands from her ears and said – no need to start a conversation with me if I'm not asking you anything, and I'm not asking you anything! It's all clear to me anyway! Who you are and what you are! I hope I'm making myself clear? Nod if you understand.
After such an attack, Dima broke out in a sweat again and simply nodded in response.
— Well, good – Karina continued typing something on the computer.
Then Karina gave Dima a ballpoint pen and showed him where to write what and where to sign, and when Dima tried to return the pen, Karina again stretched her hands forward, as if Dima wanted to smear her with shit.
— No need! Keep it for yourself – Karina waved at him just as contemptuously.
Her behavior hurt Dima, and perhaps even more than Yulia Sergeevna had hurt him yesterday. *Hurt* – thought Dima, lowering his eyes, realizing that he really was now some kind of offended person, whom they avoided here, and even now the pen he signed with was supposedly some kind of tainted. Dima still said thank you and put it in his pocket.
— Go to your... what's his name... Vitya and let him take you to accounting – Karina waved both hands, palms down, making a grimace on her cute face, as if Dima smelled of rotten fish.
Looking at that grimace, Dima again felt the taste of Yulia Sergeevna's pussy on his lips, but already getting used to this feeling, he got up and, leaving the office, went into the reception area, where he met his rapist Yulia Sergeevna in the doorway.
— Hello – Yulia Sergeevna smiled sweetly at him, and from her smile, Dima felt warm and calm.
— Hel... Hello, Yulia Sergeevna – Dima said, hesitating a little.
— All settled? – she asked him.
— Yes, I'm going to Viktor now – Dima replied.
— Come on, I'll take you myself – Yulia Sergeevna went, swaying her luxurious ass in front of him down the corridor, holding a stack of documents pressed to her chest.
Dima watched her go and followed, not taking his eyes off the skirt, which hugged and stretched so beautifully over her ass and under which he had been poking his face like a whore just yesterday. The smell of pussy appeared under his nose again, but now it was somehow pleasant and arousing. It seemed to him that he himself wouldn't be able to stand it now and would stop Yulia Sergeevna with an offer to lick her.
— Here, meet – they entered the accounting office, where there were four girls – our new specialist-statistician, analyst.
Irina Vladimirovna was the chief accountant, about 60 years old, not fat but plump, with a pleasant, kind face. She was the real deputy of Lydia Ivanovna, and everyone knew and understood this, and even Yulia Sergeevna didn't argue with her authority, although the latter never used it; she was a constant, understanding, and supportive interlocutor in any situation. She was practically the brain of the firm and Lydia Ivanovna's main advisor.
Elena Dmitrievna, about 30 years old, a nice and modest married woman, with a somewhat grayish appearance, although not lacking in figure, was the payroll accountant. Her hobby was work.
Natalya Vasilievna was also a payroll accountant and assistant to Elena Dmitrievna. She was a beautiful, red-haired 25-year-old bitch. She was arrogant and didn't allow any disrespect or jokes that humiliated her dignity, although she always sharply teased everyone herself. But she loved flattery and adored when people admired her beauty or intelligence. She enjoyed morally humiliating people by placing them on a lower step, virtually making them grovel before her.
Allochka was a specialist in statistics and analytics and, in addition to that, dealt with accounts receivable from external firms to the agency. Therefore, she had huge connections and already considered herself quite successful, rich, and independent. The salary paid by Lydia Ivanovna completely satisfied everyone and allowed them to live comfortably. It was this salary that allowed Allochka to buy a good, though not large, apartment and a luxurious jeep.
Dima was to be subordinate to this Allochka as an assistant and trainee.
— Look, the girls' dishes are unwashed, sitting there – Yulia Sergeevna turned to Dima and pointed with her hand – go wash them, and we'll have tea to get acquainted.
— Where can I wash them? – asked Dima, already collecting cups from the table. He, of course, didn't like at all that his acquaintance began with the servile task of washing dirty cups. And in a female team where he, a man, should have been surrounded by female care, but he didn't dare argue with yesterday's rapist.
— In the toilet, Dim – laughed the red-haired Natalya, who had just barely kept her drool from flowing for the new victim. His submissiveness pleased her very much, and she even got a little excited from it, watching him go with her eyes.
Thus began Dima's new job at Lydia Ivanovna's agency, who at that time was sitting in her office, on her luxurious leather sofa, her shoeless feet propped up on an equally leather ottoman, in front of which Viktor was on his knees, sitting on his heels, performing the daily foot massage.
Lydia Ivanovna, sipping a cup of strong coffee, watched her caring slave, who, kneading her feet, kissed her heels, soles, toes, pressed and rubbed his cheek against them, lifted Lydia Ivanovna's foot by her toes with his cupped palms and, as if slightly lifting it from the ottoman, shook them, causing the toes to stretch, sending pleasant signals to the brain of their mistress, who, already nibbling her lips, was getting aroused.