Women’s Underground -part II

The four prodded and pushed Simon as they escorted him down a hallway from Charlene’s office to another door. The door opened into what appeared to be a waiting area of sorts. There must have been ten or so women (early twenties to forties), some dressed casually, some dressed in business attire and others dressed as if they’d just come back from the gym.

Gina shoved Simon into the room, and as he steadied himself he noticed that all eyes were turned to him. Gina and the other women were laughing too loudly not to attract notice. Remembering that he was wearing nothing but a pair of tight red briefs in a room of fully-clothed women.

“Who is he?” asked a woman dressed in a tee-shirt, work out pants and running shoes. “Have you been hiding him from us?”

Simon noticed a couple of attractive men in their twenties, either kneeling or sitting somewhere unobtrusively. One was massaging a professional woman’s nyloned feet while another lay down while two young women rested their bare feet on his naked chest.

“He’s not one of our boys,” explained Jessie. “He’s just here to amuse us for the weekend. It’s rush week at the university.”

“Is he here for a little humiliation,” remarked another lady, dressed in a jacket, skirt and high heels.

“Oh, you could say that,” said Pauline. “oh, you’ll love this. He’s here to smell feet. Stinky feet.”

Some of the women pulled faces of mock disgust.

“To smell feet?” added the woman in the gym clothes. “Really?”

The women turned to each other, broke into smiles and began to chuckle, first softly, and then more loudly as fits of laughter infected everyone.

“Poor guy,” remarked a young woman with a giggle. “But can he lick our feet. I love getting my toes sucked.”

“’Course,” said Gina. “We can have all kinds of fun with him. We just have to make sure he smells lots of feet.”

“Even a ripe pair of gym feet like mine,” asked the woman in gym clothes. “I’ve been in these shoes all day, and I kept them on to go to the gym.”

“Especially feet like yours,” answered Gina with a chuckle. Others laughed.

The woman sat down and flung her feet onto a small table. She kicked off one sneaker and then the other, both of them tumbling to the floor. With a grin on her face, she turned to Simon, revealing the dirty soles of her white sweatsocks. She wriggled her toes.

“How ‘bout smelling my feet then,” asked the women.

The other women either giggled or voiced expressions of mock disgust as the turned to gaze at the woman’s feet.

Simon hesitated. He didn’t want to go near her feet, especially while she looked at him with such an air of superiority and condescension. But Jessie and Andrea grabbed hold of him and pulled him towards the table. Gina kicked him from behind so he fell to his knees, his face now only feet away from the woman’s smelly gym socks.

He could smell them already. It was a sharp, warm pungent smell of sweat, well-worn sneakers and locker rooms. To think that he would be expected to rub his face against her foul, sweat-soaked sock feet was more than degrading. But he had no choice.

The girls pulled his face towards the woman’s feet until she was close enough to clutch at his nose with her smelly sock toes and rub them over his face. Gina, holding him by his hair and covering his mouth with a hand, giggled as she watched the woman inflict the stench of her sock feet into his face. “This is fun,” she remarked, as she eagerly rubbed her sweat socks all over his face. “Why don’t we do stuff like this more often here?” Others nodded agreement. “You should have the boys do more than just give footrubs and serve as footrests in the waiting room. They should be expected to smell our feet real good, and lick them.”

“Good idea,” replied Jessie. “We should have a few guys who do nothing but sniff, lick and worship feet. They’d be trained to do that. No feet would be too smelly or dirty. We’d call them ... footboys.”

The women loved the proposal.

Simon was still enduring the offensive cheesy stench of the woman’s unwashed sock feet when she reached over to yank off her socks. After pushing them into his face, grinding the toe ends over his nose, she then lay back and began to rub her dirty, bare size 8’s in Simon’s face while Gina held onto him.

“I just wish I didn’t have to smell your feet to,” said Gina with a grimace. “If only he weren’t so damned disobedient.’”

“Sorry about the stink,” began the woman,”but I play hard. It’s great here because you don’t have to worry about pleasing men with how we smell or with our appearance. I can come here covered in sweat, wearing my smelly gym clothes, and the boys will still worship me and do what I want.”

She continued to slide her sweat toes over his face, cupping them over his nose, and pressing her toes up against his nostrils. The stink of her toe cheese was atrocious, but she kept forcing him to sniff under her toenails.

“Enough time here will make him obedient. He’ll sniff our smelly feet when we tell him to, and then he’ll thank us.” Some of the women laughed.

“We’re taking him to 4B,” said Jessie. I suppose we should get going.

“Just a few last whiffs,” asked the woman, who cradled his nose between the toes of each of her feet. She held his nose tightly, forcing him to take great big nosefulls of the cloying odor, before pulling her feet away.

“Thanks,” she said. “You’ll have to let me do this again.”

“Of course,” answered Jessie as she and Gina pulled Simon to his feet.

As Simon was dragged from the room, he overheard the woman address one of the “boys”, ordering him to smell her feet. A new tradition had begun.

The girls escorted him down another corridor, past rooms where he’d hear women’s voices, some laughter, some shouting. He could hear a man plead for mercy along with the crack of a whip. He was taken though much of this wherehouse, now devoted to the humiliation and abuse of men. And women, appreciating his looks and youth, sized him up and grabbed him as he passed. Women would invariably make for his behind either to pinch it or squeeze it.

This was a place where women had total control and did just about whatever they pleased. There was no restraint. The women were free to be themselves and act upon their impulses. If they wanted to get their feet sniffed, they got them sniffed.

“Ah ...” observed Jessie as she glanced at a door. “4B” Paula knocked.

“Come in,” was the reply from within.

Jessie opened the door and pushed Simon inside. Four women in their twenties/ early thirties, dressed casually in jeans, shirts, sneakers or boots, were standing around a small room, taunting an older man who lay naked on the floor at their feet. Judging from the redness of his posterior, they must have administered either a spanking or a paddling. One of them had a sneakered foot pressed against his privates and was apparently inflicting a little pressure.

The women in 4B turned to gaze at Simon. They appeared to be relieved to set eyes upon a cute young guy for a change.

“We come bearing a gift,” said Gina. “The fraternity he’s rushing sent him here for our amusement. You’ll never guess what he’s here for.”

“What for,” asked one of the young women, eagerly anticipating the explanation.

“He has to smell feet, the smellier the better.”

The four young women turned to each other and then let out a groan of disgust in unison. The giggled at the coincidence.

“We thought you guys might like to have him smell your feet, “continued Gina. And you should have him lick them too. Might as well.”

“Are you sure?” said one of the women. ‘We’re P.A.s on a film set and we just wrapped up a twelve hour day starting at the crack of dawn. We’ve been on our feet all day so I don’t think our feet are going to smell too pretty.”

“Don’t worry,” added Gina. “He’s here to smell feet. It doesn’t matter if they stink. Besides, it’s better if they do. That’s why we came to see you guys. I remember one of the boys telling me how much the room stank when you guys took off your shoes.”

“Oh, thanks,” replied one of the women, in mock offense. Everyone laughed.

“He’s here for you to play with. Just make sure he smells everyone’s feet. So be sure to return him to us when you finish. We have to train him a bit, and have a little fun ourselves. Be firm with him.”

A couple of the women grabbed hold of Simon and began to feel him up, grabbing his behind, crotch and feeling his legs and arms. “What a nice piece of ass,” remarked one of the women. “If I were a guy, I’d fuck him.” Everyone laughed. Someone grabbed hold of his briefs and slid them down to his ankles. Simon instinctively covered himself but they pulled his hands away. “Nice cock too,” observed one of them.

”The four of us’ll leave him to the four of you,” said Gina as she and Jessie, Pauline and Andrea, all smiles, filed from the room, closing the door behind them.

One of the women gave the older man a swift kick to the chest and told him to get out. He rose unsteadily and ran for the door, making a speedy exit. “He came for abuse and, boy, did he find it.”

“I prefer it when we have one of the boys,” said someone.

“He’ll do,” said another as the women manhandled Simon and pulled him to the floor. They pulled up chairs and sat down, holding him down by stepping on him with their shoes. Simon, having seen what the women did to the older man, chose not to offend by attempting escape. He lay still, pondering what dreadful things they might do to him.

The women were as follows: Lisa, Jessica, Vanessa and Zoe. They were at best, cute, and, at worst, plain.

Lisa, sitting close to his face, held her sneakered feet against his shoulders. “Well, I guess if you’re here to smell feet, you might as well smell our feet.” Lisa then pried off her sneakers and promptly pressed her warm sock feet onto his face. “Enjoy,” she remarked with a giggle.

The smell was unforgivably potent and rank with the odor of sweat and sneaker. A total stranger had just pressed her stinking sock feet in his face, and he was smelling them. It was too much. Simon pushed her feet away and sprung up.

But the women were prepared. The other three piled on top of him, and one of them grabbed him by the balls, squeezing until he begged for them to let him go.

“Are you going to smell our feet without complaint,” asked Jessica.

Simon promised and they let him go. Lisa returned her ripe sock feet to his face and slowly began to rub the humiliating stink into his face, squeezing his nose with her toes and sliding them over his lips.

“I think this is going to be fun,” remarked Lisa just after they heard Simon inhale what they all knew to be a the foul smell of her overworked size 8 1/2’s. The others rested their feet on his body while Lisa took full advantage of his position to get every inch of her sweaty sock feet sniffed.

Eventually, the socks came off and Lisa began to slide her sweaty soles over his face, rubbing his nose between her toes and the ball of her feet against his chin. Toes brushed against his nostrils as she rubbed her feet, heel to toe, up and down his face.

The pungent stink of stale foot sweat was offensive, but Simon was getting used to this brand of humiliation. He was already learning to accept what was being forced upon him.

When she offered her dirty soles for him to lick clean, he did so tentatively at first, with little dabs of his tongue, and then with broad strokes, realizing it would be far better to get it over with. He scraped her hard callouses with his teeth and removed the accumulated dirt from between her toes with his tongue. He was hell bent on completing the task. But there were still three more pairs of smelly feet waiting to be sniffed and licked.

One by one the girls took their turns, Jessica, Zoe and Vanessa. Jessica kicked off her boots to rub her ripe dark sock feet in his face before pulling them off and pressing her moist, vinegary, warm bare feet onto his face. As she played with his nose with the long stinky toes of her size 10’s, the cloying aroma of unwashed feet assaulted his senses. He wanted it to stop, but the women, giggling and teasing him were enjoying it too much.

“My heels are dirty,” observed Jessica. “Clean them.” Simon, suing teeth and tongue did just that, and tasted the acrid sweat from her feet.

“Pretty stinky down there?” said Zoe as she took her turn at the helm. She pried off her sneakers and quickly pressed her damp sock feet onto his face, holding her ripe socks toes just over his nose. The sharp, musty smell of overworn sneakers was overpowering; but Simon endured and sniffed loud enough to amuse them.

Zoe’s bare feet were no smellier than everyone else’s feet, but her toenails were dirty and hadn’t been cut in weeks. Unfortunately, Zoe took great delight in having Simon sniff the fulsome smell of sharp cheddar cheese which emanated from under her nails. Like the others, she had Simon lick her dirty feet clean.

Vanessa, also wearing a scuffed pair of sneakers, eagerly took her turn and presented poor Simon with another pair of sweaty sock feet. She clutched at his nose playfully, telling him to sniff harder, before having Simon pull off her crusty sock feet with his teeth. Her bare size 9’s played freely over his face; and she cupped her toes over his nose to ensure that he inhaled the gamy vinegar smell of her unwashed feet and the ripe cheesy stench of her toenails.

While Vanessa had Simon lick her feet clean, others would be resting their bare feet on his chest or pressing them against his head. Once Vanessa finished, the other three once again turned their attention to his face, as four pairs of smelly feet slid over his face and alternately squeezed his nose. He was revisited with each odor, all of them different but equally foul. But, for Simon, it wasn’t so much the smell that humiliated him, but that these women could enjoy the freedom of rubbing their sweaty feet in his face as much as they wanted.

“You know, Gina was right,” observed Jessica. “the room stinks.” Everyone laughed. They grabbed their socks and dropped them in his face, holding crusty toe ends over his nose and ordering him to sniff.

To add the final humiliating touch, Simon, naked, was asked to stand up. They tied his arms behind his back with rope and then stepped before him.

“Well,” began Zoe. “Thanks for smelling our feet. Hope they weren’t too stinky. But we had a lot of fun; maybe you’ll let us do this again someday.”

Simon, too offended by the request, said nothing.

Jessica grabbed one of her ratty old sneakers and began to loosen the shoestrings. ‘I’ll take him to the others. But I want to do one more thing.” With that, Jessica held the open end of her rotten sneaker over his face and began to pull the laces around his head. Such a gesture took the others by surprise, but then aroused pronounced chuckles as they contemplated the audacity of the act. Jessica finished tying the rancid old sneaker in place.

Simon was almost suffocating from the warm, brutal stench of her rotten sneakers. He could breath in nothing but the putrid scent and it was already making him light headed. But there was nothing Simon could do but stand there, with a dirty old sneaker tied to his face, for the amusement of the women.

“That’s so gross,” said Zoe. “I love it.”

With that, Jessica grabbed Simon by the arm and, carrying her other sneaker in her hand, escorted him to the door. Vanessa followed, holding the sneaker to his face so that he would have to breathe in the noxious stench until they returned him to Gina. The other women were laughing too hard to say anything. Zoe did remark, “hope you come smell our stinky feet again soon.”

Jessica and Vanessa then took Simon into the hallway where he was already the subject of much interest and amusement by all who witnessed him.

by Byron

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