I expected nothing more from my proposed move than the added convenience of living closer to work. My hours spent at the financial consultant's offices were long and I grew tired of the one hour commute from home. It was my first job since I graduated from college a year ago and I could use the extra sleep in the morning to give me the strength I needed to work effectively. I'd spent three months actively looking for a reasonably priced apartment in a popular part of town.

A month ago I met with the landlady of a distinctive three story brownstone only a stone's throw from work. When the landlady, Mrs. Godwin, met me in front of the building, she told me to call her Rachel, and from then on I did. She was an attractive professional woman of about thirty-five years of age who first introduced me to the building and to the apartment which, in the weeks ahead, would turn my life upside down. I followed her to the third floor and into a spacious unfurnished apartment with a polished wood floor and huge bay window overlooking the main street. I couldn't believe that so much could be had for so little. Always shy with beautiful women I stammered a few words about the view and asked her if she was really leasing the space for the price advertised. She smiled and at that moment I knew that I'd revealed the awkward, innocent side of myself that I struggled to conceal.

She told me that due to high turnover she needed some assurance that I would remain a tenant for at least six months. For that reason she was asking that I pay six months in advance. I explained that that was an awful lot of money all at once and that I wasn't sure if I could scrape such an amount together within the next couple of days. She offered to reduce the amount by several hundred dollars to a total just within my limited budget. She also told me that I wouldn't find a deal like this if I wanted to stay in this part of town but explained that she did so because, for safety reasons, she preferred having younger male tenants in the building. She smiled at me and I blushed. Embarrassed about revealing my attraction to her I looked away and said that I wished I could stay and that I could make the payment. I didn't want to allow this golden opportunity to slip through my fingers especially as my landlady seemed to exhibit such an interest in me. She added that it was important to have a man about since the other apartments were occupied by young women with no one to guard their safety should the wrong elements slip inside. She mentioned that she liked to lease this space out to young men with strong active bodies who might serve as some deterrent to the would-be rapist. I blushed.

She touched my shoulder and I felt like kissing her full on the mouth. She said that she trusted me and that it would be nice if she could rely on me. I could refuse her nothing. I wanted to please her, to make her happy and it seemed that I could do that by accepting her kind offer. The tone of her voice, the movement of her body stirred me and I flattered myself that she might even offer herself as part of the deal, that my living here would give us an opportunity to become acquainted. I considered the idea of having such an attractive older woman to worship that I essentially committed myself to the arrangement on the spot. As long as she held my arm I could not allow myself to say anything which might cause her disappointment. She thanked me for being so sweet and considerate and when she kissed me on the cheek I blushed yet again. I say her smiling at me as I turned away in embarrassment. I asked her if I could move in right away once I gave her a check for the full amount. She said she expected me to move in right away and that they don't get very many attractive young men like myself. Her flirtatious and forward manner made my heart race. She urged me to look around but said that she was busy with other properties and had to leave. I followed her black-stocking legs and her behind as she sauntered out the front door.

It all seemed too good to be true, a fabulous apartment offered for peanuts and a knock out single woman who seemed financially secure who appeared to be attracted to me. In my enthusiasm I moved in the following day and delivered a check to her apartment in the building next door. It was on the day that I moved in that I first set eyes on my neighbors. Two young women opened their door as I walked past carrying a box of books. They smiled and greeted me; and I could feel their eyes on me as I ascended the staircase and turned the corner. The woman across from me later opened her door and offered to help me carry my things. On the way downstairs she knocked on doors and introduced me to everyone in the building. All of the women appeared to be between the ages of 20 and 35. They all appeared to be career women and were usually busy during the day except for three of them who were still in college. The two women in the apartment below me were both in their final year at college; so was the young woman who lived alone on the first floor. I was flattered that all of these women, all of whom I found extremely attractive or at least well put together, seemed to be very keen on meeting me and offered to help me settle in. All of the women helped me to carry my things upstairs from the U-Haul truck I'd rented and they even offered to arrange my things in the apartment. They all smiled and most of them told me how wonderful it was to have a man about the place. The last male tenant left in such a hurry; and I couldn't understand why a man would abandon what to me seemed like heaven. But I would soon find out why he fled. I'd never met so many women in one place who seemed so genuinely interested in my presence and all of them insisted that I feel free to visit them for any reason or even just for conversation. I'm sure that I appeared very bashful and embarrassed by all of the attention and , half the time I couldn't even look these attractive women in the eye. They usually smiled, laughed and seemed perpetually cheerful.

Across from me lived Susan, an ad executive in her mid thirties. Underneath me lived the two college girls, Laura and Alex, in one apartment and, in the other, a 26 year old woman involved with public relations by the name of Monique. On the first floor lived two women between the ages of 28 and 30, Natasha and Olivia, who were both dancers, and across from them, the other college student Sandra who was 20 years old and studying dance and naturally spending much of her time training with the other two dancers. Unfortunately I didn't see much of Rachel while I moved in but she promised to invite me over to dinner sometime during the next few weeks. I was king of the roost and it felt strange as if I had a harem of sorts. I looked forward to paying numerous visits to my friendly neighbors.

I'd settled in to my new situation and felt relieved that 6 months rent could not have been invested more wisely. It was the following weekend when everything changed drastically and that it became clear to me that I'd been lured here and that the landlady appealed to my vanity out of the strangest ulterior motive. I'd felt flattered by their attention but I was soon to discover that they held me in some contempt; and I was soon to feel trapped in a situation from which there appeared to be no escape. I would discover why I would occasionally hear some of the women whisper and giggle behind my back; after all, they were plotting a social event which, at the time, I would have considered very unpleasant.

It all began with an innocuous knock on my door that Saturday afternoon while I was decorating the apartment. Four of the girls -- Monique, Natasha, Laura and Alex -- were at the door and asked me if they could come in; they beamed at me and, of course, I said yes. We discussed the move and they told me how much they enjoyed having me there. But I was literally struck dumb when Monique boldly stated they were looking for a new footboy. I had no idea at the time what they meant and felt concerned about the direction in which the innocent flirtation had suddenly turned. I thought they probably expected some guy to give them occasional footrubs. I turned away in embarrassment and I heared someone giggle. They told me that they'd been interviewing candidates for the position and so far they'd met with eight out of a pool of ten; and that they wanted to ask me a few questions. She added that if I scored higher than 70% I might very well win the title. Apparently some of the other women were interviewing another young man and Monique added that they should be able to determine the winner within the next twenty minutes. Natasha asked me if they could sit down. I couldn't refuse and I didn't have the heart to ask them to leave, even if they wanted me to give them footrubs. I felt sure that they were merely playing around. While sitting in the armchair, Monique pulled out a few sheets of paper from a folder she'd placed on her lap. She crossed her legs and turned to me.

I could feel all of their eyes fastened upon me as Monique read me the first question. "Are you a virgin," she asked with a fiendish grin. I blushed but answered no; I'd lost my virginity during my final year at college to a girlfriend who had made me wait a full three years for the privilege and then dumped me. Monique then asked me if I'd given a woman a footrub. I couldn't remember doing such a thing and I again answered no. "Are you attracted by women's feet?" she asked. I've seen pretty feet but I didn't have a foot fetish so I said "no." "Have you ever received a footjob?" she asked. I responded by asking her what that was. They laughed at me and Monique told me she'd take that as a "no." I blushed again. "Would you consider yourself submissive in sexual relationships?" she asked. I recalled my recent relationship with my ball-busting girlfriend at college but didn't like the idea of being labeled with the word "subservient" so I said "not necessarily." They laughed at that. I smiled in response. "Have you ever sucked on a woman's toes?" "No" "Have you ever sniffed a woman's toes?" "No" "Has a woman ever rubbed her feet on you?" "No" "If a woman asked you to suck on her toes and rub her feet would you?" "It depends" "I'll take that as a yes" "If a woman wanted to rub her feet on your face would you let her?" "I don't know" "I'll also take that as a yes."

Monique then looked at the sheet and said that though she didn't know what to make of some of my wishy-washy answers she would give me the benefit of the doubt. The others laughed at this. Monique told me that I scored a 90% after only missing the first question. Apparently, they would have preferred a virgin for the position but 90% was not a score to be scoffed at and indicated that I was a perfect combination of inexperience, disinterest and the willingness to accommodate and learn. But before declaring me the winner and calling everyone over to celebrate they would have to wait to hear the results of the other interview. The game was becoming too serious for my liking and I began to pace around the room while they asked me more questions about what I thought of the new place. Monique's cellular phone rang and she answered it. "Yes?" "Oh, that's good. 90% and you? "Only 30%? Does he have a foot fetish or something?" The others laughed. "O.K. I'll see you soon. Hurry up." She hung up the phone and congratulated me and told me how convenient it would be to have a footboy in the same building and that they grew so used to having Mark in the building until he disappeared. "Now that you're the new footboy we'll have a place to bring our sore, tired feet" said Monique." I was beginning to get extremely nervous by this time and thought that the game had gone far enough. "I loved the way Mark rubbed my feet when I came back from rehearsal" added Natasha. "And nothing relieves the tension like having my toes sucked on a Friday evening" replied Monique. Laura and Alex giggled and said that nothing was more fun than having Mark sniff their smelly toes when they came back from their jog. I was horrified and I couldn't believe what they were contemplating. I was beginning to doubt that there were other candidates. I tried to think of an excuse to leave but I heard a knock at the door.

Monique ran to the door and in came the others: Susan, Olivia and Sandra. Alex said that it was time to have some fun and that two weeks was far too long to go without rubbing her feet on a cute guy's face, and that she didn't wear her Keds without socks for nothing. I was frightened and I must have looked it because they were laughing at me. Before I knew what happened, Alex approached me just as I sat on the sofa next to Natasha. Alex sat on my knees facing me and wrapped her legs around my hips. She then began to unbutton my shirt. "That's the spirit" said Monique with a grin. I grabbed her hand but Alex smiled and told me not to be shy and that they just wanted to see me naked and that every footboy must serve them in the nude. I began to struggle as best I could. She pushed me down as Olivia and Laura grabbed my arms while Alex continued to unbutton my shirt and squeeze my waist with her thighs. Sandra also sat on my knees behind Alex as someone else started to pull off my shoes and socks. As soon as hands started fiddling with my belt and pants zipper I struggled even more; but several of them were sitting on me and others were holding my arms and legs. "And now for the piece de resistance" said Monique and I felt my pants slide down my ankles while Sandra stood up to allow the pants to be removed. "Ready girls" said Monique and then my shorts soon followed my pants down to my ankles and off my feet. I don't know if I had a hard-on but I heard whistles and quite a bit of giggling. Olivia said "not bad." My shirt was pulled over my head and they carefully pulled it from my arms as I continued to struggle. They were very good at restricting my freedom of movement. They then tied my ankles to some long cords attached to the legs of the sofa and those who had been sitting on me stood up. I looked up and the seven of them were standing in front of me, gazing at me and smiling. I covered my crotch with my hands and realized that they had tied my ankles to the legs of the sofa. Laura started taking photographs of me as soon as I'd removed my hands from my crotch to attempt to untie myself. "There's no point in fighting it" said Alex. "You're our obedient little footboy now and if you don't like it we can mail these photographs to the company where you work so I'd suggest you get on your knees now." I got on my knees as four of them sat on the sofa before me and three others brought up chairs.

Monique held out her foot encased in a pair of white sweat socks and Keds. "Take of my shoes, footboy" she demanded. I did. As she placed her sweaty sock foot on my face I reacted and attempted to free myself. A few of the others jumped me and held my hands behind my back. They tied them with cord and then pushed me onto the floor on my back. Monique moved over to a chair near my head and told me that I'd better behave. Sandra sat on my chest, covered my mouth with duct tape and held my head with her hands as Monique placed her sock feet back on my face. "Now you're going to lay there and put up with it" said Sandra. Her sock feet were slightly moist and the smell was so overpowering it made me choke. "I've been on a run this morning just for you" added Monique. "Now we could start easy on you, begin with a footrub here, a toe suck there but we don't have time for that. We're going to brake you in with tome intense foot sniffing to overcome your dislike of feet and any resistance to our superiority. So now smell my feet footboy." Sandra slapped my cheek hard and I breathed in the pungent smell of moist, sweaty feet and sneakers. "Now footboy has to sniff harder than that" declared Monique. Sandra slapped me again to the amusement of the others as I breathed in as hard as I could.

I spent the next five minutes in this fashion until Monique asked me if I was going to behave from now on. I nodded. Sandra and the others let go of me and I then attempted to sit up by rolling over onto my front. I was on my knees when Sandra told me to lean against the sofa. I did and she and Monique pulled a couple of chairs over to me. Sandra sat on one while Monique sat on the other. Monique pulled off my gag and placed her sock feet on my face. "Now pull off my socks with your teeth" demanded Monique. As I struggled to pull them off, tugging at the toe ends and at the ankle ends, the others spoke about me. "Rachel knows how to spot them doesn't she," said Alex. "I mean look at him fiddling with your sweaty socks. She knows if the guy's a push-over like this one or if he's really going to be difficult. How does she know which guys won't." "He's not only a subservient wimp," said Monique, " but he's nice to look at. I mean look at his cute little buns and his you know what's dangling between his legs." I heard giggles. "Rachel has a good eye," said Natasha, "and she can sniff out a subservient man a mile away. I think if more women realized how easy it was to get a guy to smell their feet there would be more apartment buildings like this one all over the city." I couldn't believe what they were saying; and they talked about me as if I were an object without feelings and emotions. I'd managed to pull one sock over Monique's heel and off her toes to reveal toenails painted maroon. She made the process of removing the second stinking sock more difficult by rubbing her sweaty bare foot all over my face, repeatedly covering my eyes and nose. The potent and overpowering smell of her toes as she pressed them over my nostrils made it almost impossible to concentrate on what I was doing with my teeth. I instinctively wanted to pull away from the odor which had been forced upon me but it was no longer that simple. I only hoped that my humiliation wouldn't last long. As soon as I pulled the second sock from her foot she pressed it on my face next to the other one and began rubbing it around. I remained kneeling before her and sitting upright as she amused herself at my expense by having me smell her moist, sweaty, foul-smelling feet. "This is even better than doing it to my boss at the p.r. firm," laughed Monique. I was shocked to hear that the man who paid her wages was forced to undergo this kind of humiliation.

Sandra, who had been watching and laughing the entire time, had slipped off her sneakers, crossed a leg and raised her foot to my face. From behind Monique's two active feet I caught a glimpse of petite feet with black nail polish. Sandra wriggled her toes and told Monique to move over. Monique removed her feet which were promptly replaced by feet which reeked even more of foot sweat and sneaker; and within a matter of seconds my face was wet from having her feet on my face. I didn't really have the stomach for the powerful smell so I backed away from her feet and attempted to stand up. Sandra then threw herself on top of me and straddled my chest. She slapped me around several times and hit the side of my face with her feet. I struggled to push her off but the others were holding me down. She placed a gag over my mouth before standing and returning to her seat. Sandra promptly returned her feet to my face and cupped her warm toes over my nose. "We'll break you yet footboy," said Sandra. "Now do as you're told and sniff my toes." I breathed in the potent foot smell and breathed again so everyone could hear me. Alex laughed. "That a boy," she said. "You're going to learn to smell our feet on command. I don't care if we've been wearing the same pantyhose for a week, you'll sniff our nylon feet until we're satisfied that our feet have been thoroughly appreciated."

They were going to have some fun regardless of how cooperative I was. Struggle was futile and I knew that I was going to sniff everyone's feet. I decided at this point to become the submissive little footboy they wanted, and that they claimed I already was, because I hoped that they might go easy on me. I was determined to play their game and to play it well. I would show them how strong I was by sniffing their smelly toes with all of the energy I could muster. After five or six successive passionate sniffs, Sandra giggled and told the others that I had potential and that I might be the best footboy they've ever had. "You really know how to sniff a girl's toes" she told me. While sitting on my chest, Sandra continued to wriggle her sweaty toes over my nose. After receiving from me her five minutes of impassioned foot sniffing, Susan said that it was high time for the dancers to have their feet sniffed especially because they are usually on their feet all day and deserve a little fun. 1 1