"It's as if I can't get through an entire day without smelling her feet," said Robbie. "They really stink."
His lunch companion, Adrienne laughed at Robbie's expression of disgust. "So what happened?"
"Well," began Robbie. "She's always calling me into her office to discuss the reports, and as soon as I do, she kicks off her shoes. Everytime. "
"And what makes it worse is that she sticks her feet up on the desk. And woosh, what a stink. It doesn't matter if she's bare foot or if she's wearing socks or hose -- her feet smell terrible. I have to cover my nose with my hand without letting on that I'm holding my nose. I don't want to offend her. She's my boss after all."
Robbie then turned to Adrienne almost confidentially. "Do you think she has a foot odor problem?"
Adrienne let out an enormous belly laugh.
"You know, Robbie, I should tell you something. Gwen does it on purpose. I'm almost certain of it because it's happened before."
"What do you mean?"
"You smell her feet because she want you to. That's why she takes off her shoes whenever you sit near her."
"That's true. She does."
"I hear she wears the same socks and hose for days, and that she likes wearing shoes that make her feet sweat."
"What do you mean?"
"Tell me, Robbie. You're new here so I should warn you. Gwen Russell wants you as more than just her assistant. Do you find her attractive?"
"She's older than me, but she looks great for her age. Except for her feet, she takes good care of herself. But she's my boss."
"It doesn't matter. She's priming you to be her footboy. Getting you accustomed to her scent. That's what she did with the other assistants. Why do you think she hires male assistants when everyone else in the company is female?"
"Footboy?" answered Robbie, not knowing what she meant.
"Oh, like a foot slave. Using your face as a footrest ... having you lick her feet ... suck on her toes. Smell her feet. Stuff like that."
"I don't understand."
"My, you are innocent. She wants someone to dominate ... humiliate a little. She wants a man underfoot ... literally. But I'll warn you now. Next she pus her stinky feet up on the desk, just remember that if you're not carefully, she'll be rubbing them all over your face and having you lick them clean."
Robbie couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This is a joke, right?"
"Oh, no joke. Tell me this? Has she dropped anything under her desk and had you pick it up?"
"Ah ... yeah. She dropped some paperclips and she asked if I could pick them up. She was sitting at her desk. I figured she'd move out of the way, but she didn't. And I felt strange asking her to move so I could get under her desk."
"Were her shoes off," asked Adrienne.
Robbie wrinkled his nose. She'd been wearing sneakers without socks that day. And I don't know if it was her sneakers or her feet I smelled. But it was so rank. And she had the nerve to brush her sweaty bare feet over my hand. There I was on all fours with her stinky feet inches away from my face. I had to hold my breath."
Adrienne was laughing "Oh, she loves that. I'm surprised she hasn't accidentally brushed them against your face yet."
"So now what?" asked Robbie, now, for the first time, growing concerned.
"Play it cool. It's going to be hard to say no to your boss, but you can't let her go too far. Now, if she asks you for a footrub, and she will, give her one. But be careful if she asks you to go to her place. Her friends will be there and you'll likely be spending a lot of time with her feet on your face, not to mention their feet. And if you think her feet smell bad." She chuckled.
Robbie looked worried.
"And they love getting their stinky toes sniffed and sucked. So be careful. Oh, and watch out for Rachel and Kathy. They're members of Gwen's group and their feet stink. The last guy spent a lot of time with Rachel's cheesy toes up his nose, let me tell you. And his face would smell like feet. But he made the mistake of going to Gwen's place. She and her friends stripped him and tied him up; and then they made him smell their feet, and lick them too. After that, he spent at least an hour or two everyday in Gwen's office, probably with her sweaty feet on his face.
Robbie, hoping that Adrienne was joking, changed the topic of conversation. He didn't want to think about his boss' feet anymore. Besides, it was too incredible to think that these women wanted to rub their smelly feet in his face. What a world.
But, before I continue, let me just say a few words about Gwen Russell. A determined, ambitious executive in her late thirties, she'd climbed the corporate ladder at the all-female advertising company in record time. Though some credit her meteoric success to the possession of balls, she remains undeniably feminine (despite the lack of attention she pays her appearance). Smart, tough, sexy and indefatigable, Gwen was leaving her mark.
Robbie was a new employee at the company, and signed on as Gwen's assistant, a demanding job which often required late nights. On one such late night, a day after Robbie's enlightening conversation with Adrienne, a fellow assistant, Gwen asked Robbie to stay late. She had a presentation to prepare the following day.
By 8:00, Gwen asked Robbie into her office. "Shut the door behind you," she asked him for the very first time.
As Robbie took a seat at her desk, Gwen slung one and then another foot onto the desk before her. She was wearing high-heel loafers without hose. As she casually glanced over a document, she used one foot to pry off a shoe and then her bare foot to pry off the other one. Her shoes clunked onto the desktop.
A warm rush of sharp and pungent foot odor hit him, and he casually covered his nose with his hand.
"Is your nose alright?" she asked with a smile.
Feeling like he'd been caught in the act of covering his nose so as not to smell her toes, Robbie self-conscious let his hand fall to his lap. He breathed through his mouth, but the powerful odor of stale foot sweat and well-worn shoe leather could not be avoided.
Gwen crossed one size 9 1/2/ foot over the other and wriggled her toes. Her soles may have been darkened with floor dirt, but Robbie noticed flecks of maroon nail polish on her toenails. Judging from the smoothness of the skin, she took care of her feet.
As the odor penetrated his nasal passages, he was revolted by a visual of Gwen rubbing her ripe dogs over his face and of her long stinky toes clutching at his nose. He couldn't bare the thought of smelling her dirty, cheesy feet, let alone touch them.
"Actually, I want to ask you a little favor. Seeing that you're my assistant, I'm sure you won't mind. But I could really use a footrub right now. I've been on my feet all day, and my feet are so sore I can't even think."
Robbie glanced at her feet and gulped. He nodded and extended his hands toward her right foot.
Gwen then pulled her feet from the desk. "Actually, wold you mind doing this under my desk. I don't want anyone coming in and seeing. It's a small company and they'll think we're an item. "
Robbie couldn't very well refuse; besides, Adrienne advised him to make a few concessions like give footrubs. He sat down at her feet and once Gwen pushed her chair back, he slid backwards into the crevice under the desk. Gwen, her legs crossed, wheeled her seat back into place, her smelly foot just inches from his face. The stink of her feet was all the more potent in this dark and enclosed space; and so he resolved to get it over with.
With reluctant fingers, he grabbed hold of her warm, moist foot and began to press and squeeze. Struggling not to breathe through his nose, he held her foot in his hand and gently rubbed her sole.
"I don't want to sound ungrateful," she remarked. "But I think I need to train you in the art of great foot massage. It'll come in handy. I mean, considering how my days go, I could usually use a good footrub at the end of the day. Besides, I'm sure some of the other girls won't mind a skillful footrub?
"Use more pressure," she added, "and get your fingers all over my feet. Don't neglect the toes."
Following her advice, Robbie rubbed her feet for upwards of fifteen minutes r so, without complaint, She would reward him with the occasional "great job," or "feels great."
And then someone knocked at the door. "Who is it?" Gwen then pushed her chair forward as far as it would go toward the desk. The sudden movement brought her foot directly into his face.
For a moment, the ball of her sweaty foot was pressed up against his nostrils. It was like stale Parmesan cheese and he struggled to free his face. But he had no room to move. Though he was able to pry his nose free of her toes, her toes remained pressed against his cheek.
"It's Celia," came a reply. "I have a memo." And then the door opened. He heard highheels tap against the hard floor and then the two women conversed.
Meanwhile, Robbie was struggling to slide his face free of her ripe foot without making noise. But Gwen appeared to be ever so subtly bringing her toes as close to his nose as possible. He didn't want to say anything, but to endure the touch of her stinky toes flexing against his cheek was too much to bear. It was impossible not to inhale the ripe and virulent foot odor.
After several minutes of a discussion which Robbie thought might never end, Celia left. Gwen then pushed her chair back slightly, but left Robbie only several inches between him and her foot. She wriggled her toes.
"You know, I should probably get going anyway," said Gwen. "But that footrub was just what I needed." She pulled her seat back to let Robbie out. He took a greedy breath of fresh air before climbing out.
"I'm having a little get-together at my place this weekend, and I'd like you to come by. I'd love to show off my new assistant who gives such excellent foot rubs."
Robbie remembered Adrienne's warning and replied: "I'm not sure if I can."
"Oh, I'm sure you can make an appearance. It's not like I'm asking that much of you."
Gwen almost appeared to be upset by his unenthusiastic response. And Robbie felt guilty about saying no; but he couldn't say yes.
"I'll have to see."
"Just tell me when you have a couple of hours free and we'll go from there."
"O.K." What was he getting himself into?
"Let me know tomorrow and we'll arrange something."
She shook his hand and thanked him for the massage. "Goodnight."
Robbie left, but spent the rest of the evening endeavoring to come up with a good enough excuse. I mean, what if Adrienne were right. He'd be humiliated by Gwen and her friends.
The following day, Robbie was asked to lunch in the employee lunchroom by Rachel, Kathy and Alissa. Preoccupied with thinking of an excuse to tell Gwen, he sat quietly as the other three gossiped and talked trash about the other employees.
"So you were going to tell us how you're meeting with Tim went" queried Rachel. "Did you and your friends finally do him?"
"Tim was Gwen's last assistant," explained Kathy in a whisper.
"Of course, we did. I'd been telling my friends stories about your club for so long there was no way they'd let the opportunity slip by. I told them exactly what to do; and we planned so we took him by surprise. Once he was at my place, they jumped him and tied him up. I told him that he left the job before I had a chance to rub my smelly feet in his face. And that if he thought he could get out of doing out feet by running away, he had another thing coming. I don't think he recognized me from here, though."
Rachel held out the palm of her hand for Alissa to high-five. She did with a resounding slap and the women howled their approval. A few of the other female employees, who'd overheard the conversation, smiled.
"Way to go. I'm proud of you."
"Our feet were so stinky; he was just hatin' it. But we had him smell our nasty feet and lick 'em too. It was such a blast. I had a hard time, trying to get them to go home. They couldn't keep their smelly feet off his face.
The women discussed the event as if it had been a regular occurrence, but Robbie was in shock. Adrienne was right; they do humiliate the assistants with their smelly feet.
"Speaking of feet," added Rachel a she turned to Robbie. "I heard someone spent a little time under Gwen's desk last night. And no one told us."
Robbie flushed red. Kathy, noticing his embarrassment, giggled.
"I should let you know that if Gwen gets her toes sniffed, you sniff our toes too. If she gets her feet rubbed, you rub our feet. Get the picture? S don't ever think your face is too good for our feet."
"It's alright," interjected Kathy. "Gwen invited him over this weekend and we're invited."
Kathy then turned to Robbie. "It's our woman's club. We need a new footboy to do our feet."
"Just don't think you'll get away with doing what Tim did. He thought he could get out of servicing our feet, but we showed him, didn't we?"
"In the raunchiest kind of way," laughed Kathy.
Rachel then hoisted her feet onto the table, right next to Robbie's lunch. She pried off one of her flats and then the other, as a hot rush of stale foot odor greeted his senses.
"Not at the table," giggled Kathy.
"I can't wait to have you sniff my toes this weekend. And you think they stink now."
The others laughed.
"It'll be good," added Kathy. "God knows we could use a little fun. It's been weeks since I even got my toes sucked, let alone sniffed real good."
Rachel's feet hovered over Robbie's plate as she crossed them at the ankle. "Go ahead and finish," she urged with a grin.
"No, it's alright. I'm not that hungry." The pungent, sharp odor of her sweaty feet took away his appetite. He stood, excused himself and walked out.
Behind him, he heard the women burst into loud fits of laughter. It seemed that the humiliation was only just beginning.
He'd been rehearsing what to say when Gwen asked him about the weekend. Now with the prospect of being humiliated by Rachel and the others, how could he even dream of going?
But when Gwen brought it up after lunch, Robbie stammered an excuse about his mother falling ill.
"Excuses. Excuses. I'm only asking for a couple of hours. If you don't go, you're fired." She glared at him for a couple of seconds and then burst into laughter.
"Just kidding. Oh, the look on your face." Robbie wasn't amused. "
"Just come over after work tomorrow. We'll order in and you can meet some of my friends. It'll be fun. I mean, we should find a way to welcome you in. I'd like you to feel at home.
Robbie nodded; but before Robbie could offer another excuse, Gwen asked him about a project. For the remainder of the day, she was too busy to speak confidentially with him. But at least he'd have one more day to come up with an excuse.
(to be continued)