FootFetish 9
Having received the now-familiar command, Viktor stood up, walked out from behind the desk, sat on his heels in the middle of the office, and placed his hands on his hips.
"Come here, my golden puppy," said Lydia Ivanovna, pushing herself away from the desk in her wheeled chair and turning towards where Viktor was already crawling on all fours. "Give me a little massage." Leaning one heel on the toes of her other foot, Lydia freed her beautiful leg and stretched it, pointing her toes towards Viktor, who had already tenderly taken it and was holding it with both hands. With the pads of his thumbs, he began rubbing Lydia Ivanovna's foot, pressing with moderate force and making circular motions.
Lydia Ivanovna leaned her head back with pleasure and exhaled air from her lungs with unconcealed delight"Oh, that feels so good," the words practically flew out with her exhale. "Keep it up just like that," she began to speak, as if to the ceiling, enjoying herself, and her voice carried a slight moan. "You don't mind that I registered you as a cleaner, do you? Right? That's a good boy!" She asked this rhetorical question and answered it herself. "That way, there will be fewer questions from everyone about why you'll be in my office so often, why you'll sometimes stay late and come in early."
Viktor continued rubbing Lydia Ivanovna's foot and kissed it as a sign of submission and perhaps even gratitude for how cleverly she had parried the awkward questions and mockery from colleagues about his presence, and also for significantly improving his financial situation by adding a generous bonus. Viktor put his thumb in his mouth and began to suck on it.
"Don't suck, there was no command for the foot!" said Lydia Ivanovna, looking down at him. "Just massage! If anything, I'll tell you what to do next." She observed his submission and liked it. "Don't worry, my dear, I won't hesitate if I need anything!"
The word "my dear" reminded Viktor of the humiliation he had experienced here yesterday. Releasing his finger from his lips, he lowered his eyes, continuing to massage and stroke her ankle. Moving his hands higher, he began massaging her calves.
"Yesss, good boy," she threw her head back again and slightly shifted her pelvis to the edge of the chair. Viktor continued to massage and knead her beautiful leg, moving his hands over "his territory"—that is, up to the knee and no higher—though he desperately wanted to cross that boundary. His member began to stiffen at the thought of pleasing Lydia Ivanovna. He couldn't take his eyes off her shoe, which he also wanted to smell and kiss. Continuing to stroke and rub, Viktor couldn't resist and kissed her knee again. Lydia Ivanovna didn't react at all, and he continued massaging her leg. This kiss was a kind of sign of devotion; by doing it, he wanted to convey to Lydia Ivanovna that he was ready to kiss her feet even without orders or blackmail—he loved her feet and was trying to show it. Lydia Ivanovna understood this gesture correctly, and it pleased her greatly; her panties even grew a little damp from this tender kiss. But she understood that now was not the time for pleasure, that she needed to work and prepare for an important guest's visit, and besides, she had already come enough yesterday to last her a week ahead. She withdrew the massaged leg and extended the other one to Viktor, making it clear that the other one needed massaging too, which Viktor gladly began to do. After the massage, Viktor put the shoes back on the beautiful feet and kissed one of them on the toe, after which she gratefully patted him on the head. "Good boy! Get ready for the courses! I'll send you soon! And I'll pay for it, don't worry! Go on now! I'll call if I need anything!"
Viktor left Lydia Ivanovna's office and, without raising his eyes to Yulia Sergeevna, went to his place.
"If you're full, go drain yourself!" said Yulia Sergeevna without taking her eyes off the monitor.
"What?" asked Viktor, looking at Yulia.
"I'm saying, don't hold in yourself what Lydia Ivanovna didn't hold in while filling your belly," she grinned mischievously and contemptuously at him. "That's why you stayed there, right? Golden boy!"
"No, I was giving a foot massage," Viktor hurried to justify himself, turning red as a lobster from her words, and he said it, as it seemed to Yulia, not in a very respectful tone.
"So you're empty?" she continued to taunt. "Want me to fill the toilet? Do you?"
"No," Viktor lowered his voice and again dropped his eyes to the desk.
"What? Didn't you like it?" Yulia continued her questioning, laughing. "Am I not to your taste or something? Answer me!" Yulia snapped.
"Yes, Yul," Viktor mumbled. "Everything's fine."
"What 'Yul' am I to you? Didn't you mix something up, you oaf?" Yulia was now experiencing indescribable pleasure verbally humiliating Viktor, putting him in an awkward position. From the uncomfortable and biting questions, he squirmed like a snake on a frying pan; he felt terribly awkward and ashamed about yesterday, and Yulia only intensified this shame. "Answer me! Did you like my compote? Yes?"
"Yes," Viktor answered almost inaudibly, understanding that any other answer wouldn't satisfy her and simply hoping she would leave him alone now.
"What 'yes'? Answer with a full sentence! I'll teach you how to communicate beautifully and professionally in our agency!" Yulia continued her moralizing.
"Yes, I liked it," Viktor again said almost inaudibly. He was already so crushed by this bitch that he desperately wished someone would enter the reception area and stop this horror, but the door showed no sign of opening. Generally, no one just came into the reception area, which also served as his office as an assistant and deputy to Yulia Sergeevna. If Lydia Ivanovna caught anyone wandering from office to office during work hours, she punished them quite harshly with fines, so their office, adjacent to the boss's office, was avoided by everyone, and people mostly only looked in when summoned or to resolve urgent personal matters.
"What did you like? And who are you addressing? Your answer lacks full meaning! I don't understand! But I should understand! Is that clear? I repeat the question. Did you like my compote? If you don't understand which compote exactly, you can ask me a question before you answer, and I'll clarify, but I want a full answer from you! Clear?" Yulia placed her hands on the desk proprietorially, leaning on her elbows and interlacing her fingers, resting her chin on them. "I'm waiting for an answer!"
"Yulia Sergeevna, I liked your compot," answered Viktor, looking at her guiltily, and added, "yesterday."
"Do you want more?" she continued, practically finishing him off with her tricky questions. Viktor didn't know how to answer this question; folding his hands on the desk, he buried his face in them as if hiding. Tears dripped onto the desk; he was sobbing quietly. Yulia realized she had gone too far and, approaching, patted him on the back.
"Come on, calm down and start working," Yulia Sergeevna looked down at him and felt how she had now secured her victory over Viktor by humiliating him with her questions, and now she clearly saw herself as the boss in this office! Unrivaled!