Divine Office Soles

Divya Prasad was a feared woman in the office. Strict, dominant, and not at all afraid to call you out if you screwed up. Her harsh nature was matched only by her beauty. Jet black hair with a light streak or two of gray, dark brown eyes, and a tall, womanly figure that she would often use for intimidation. Firm B-cup breasts, and a surprisingly ample butt for her 44 years of age, accentuated by her tight blouses and skirts. A lot of the more crass men in the office would remark in hushed tones how she'd be 'more fuckable if she wasn't such a ball-buster'.

Of all her assets, however, what I was drawn most to were her feet. She wore the same pair of black heels everyday, and I'd often fantasize about how they must smell trapped in those prisons. Whenever the chance presented itself, I would steal glances, and would usually be rewarded with a brief view of her stocking-clad feet before she whirled around and barked at me to get back to work, with me just barely avoiding getting caught eye-molesting her feet.

My fetish ended up getting me in trouble, however. When she yelled at me to come into her office one day, my blood turned to ice. I walked to her office on shaky legs, ignoring the snickers and sneers of my coworkers.

"Yes, Ms. Prasad?" came my voice in a squeaky tone as I entered her office.

She slammed down the sheaf of papers she'd been shuffling, making me jump. "Close the door and sit down." she ordered in a clipped tone.

I shut the door and took the armchair in front of her. She folded her hands on her desk and looked at me coldly. I tried to avoid her hawkish gaze by focusing on her bindi, but my attention was snapped back to her when she cleared her throat.

"Do you know why I called you in here?" she asked in that sexy accent of hers, but it came out as more of a statement.

I didn't, but I didn't want to say that and anger her further. "Did I make some kind of typo or error on the last report?"

She frowned. Clearly that wasn't the right answer. "Uh...did one of the coworkers say something? Was it about me being late to the meeting last week? Did I-"

"Stop talking." I stopped talking. "I have another question for you, Mr. Brown. Do I look stupid to you?"

"No, ma'am."

She clucked her tongue. "Is that so? Then why is it you think that I don't notice you staring at my feet?"

My throat immediately went dry as my cheeks flared. "I-I-I..."

"Have you lost the ability to speak as well as use common sense?" she snapped. Divya stood and slammed her hands on her desk. "Do you realize, young man, that I can have you fired for sexual misconduct? That I can ruin your reputation, your very life, with a single phone call to HR?"

I clasped my hands together and started pleading. "Please, Ms. Prasad, I really, really need this job. I'll do anything."

A cruel smile made its way to her ruby red lips. "Anything? Is that so?"

I nodded. "Yes, anything. Just don't fire me. I'll stay late, I'll take a dock in pay, I'll-"

"Be quiet!" I shut my mouth, wringing my hands nervously.

Divya clicked the intercom on her desk. "Sheila?" she spoke, addressing her personal assistant. "Hold all my calls. I'm not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day."

"Yes, Ms. Prasad." came the assistant's voice.

Divya turned her attention to me again. "From the moment you started working for me, I thought there was something strange about you. Something I couldn't quite place. But then I figured it out when I caught you staring at my feet. You have a foot fetish, don't you?"

I stayed silent, hanging my head in shame.

"Answer me!"

"Y-Yes, I do."

She laughed, and even though I knew I was in deep trouble, it was still an incredibly arousing sound to hear. "I had a husband like you, once. A foot boy who would cater to my every whim. Even if it meant humiliating himself at the lowest part of my body." She frowned. "Then that wretched man had the gall to leave me, saying I was too dominating, that my feet were too strong, that he couldn't take the smell and submission anymore."

My heart was hammering in my chest now. A bead of sweat broke on my forehead and slowly rolled down.

"I always wondered when I'd find my next foot boy. And fate has delivered one right into my lap." With the wicked smile back on her face, she swung her legs and placed them on the desk. "Take off my shoes."

I didn't know if she was planning on making good on her threat of firing me, but I didn't want to find out. That, and I was incredibly turned on, and was getting the chance to get to the feet I've fantasized about for years.

"Don't keep me waiting!" I nodded, gripped a shoe, and started pulling it off. "Hurry up! You're so slow!"

The shoe finally came off, and I was hit with a sucker punch of foot odor. I coughed and sputtered, gagging at the sudden, sour smell. Divya laughed mockingly. "You men are all the same. Can't handle a little smelly feet. Get the other one, too!"

The other one took as much effort to get off as the first, and smelled just as powerful. In no time at all, the room became filled with the smell of my boss's feet. They looked sexy as hell in her tan nylons, and I could just make out the dark purple of her toenails.

"Alright, get to rubbing them. Now." There was a dangerous, impatient edge to the last word. I reached to grab a foot and began massaging.

Her feet were nice and soft, but my god, were they sweaty. My hands slipped a few times, and after she threatened to call and report my little staring episodes again, I made more of an effort to hold on. I pressed my thumbs into her sole and gently rubbed the balls of her feet, growing harder and harder. "That's nice..." she purred, closing her eyes and lying back in her chair. "I was planning on firing you in a month, but I'm glad I kept you around. You'll make a far better foot boy than employee."

I blushed and began working on the next one. Divya moaned as I massaged, her smile growing wider. "It feels so wonderful to have someone massage my feet after such a long day. In fact, this will be one of your new duties. Every day, you are to give me three foot massages; one first thing in the morning, one at lunch, and one when the work day is over." She grinned. "But don't think that's all."

She kicked my hands away and pulled her legs towards herself. She slipped off her nylons and tossed them on her desk, presenting her now bare feet to me. The smell was stronger now that her feet were bare, and the bottoms were peppered with sweat, bits of dirt, and grime.

"Are you erect right now? Honestly?" Divya laughed as I tried to awkwardly cover the tent in my pants. "This must be heaven for you, pervert. Get down on your knees."

I was starting to like this feeling of surrendering control, of obeying a powerful, dominant woman. Getting out of the chair and falling to my knees, I crawled over to the desk, awaiting further orders.

"Smell my feet."

I took both of her size 11s and pressed my face into them. My erection throbbed painfully as the cheesy vinegar scent of her feet filled my nose. My face became greasy with her foot sweat as she rubbed them all over.

"That's it, foot boy." she teased. "Smell my stinky feet. Get used to it, too, because you're going to do this a lot for a long, long time." I had no complaints about that. "And from now on, when we're alone, you are to address me as 'Mistress Prasad' or 'Lady Divya'. Is that understood, slave?"

"Yes..." I whispered dreamily as I sniffed her feet.

"Yes,

what?"

she spat icily.

"Yes, Mistress Prasad."

She was all smiles again. "Good boy. Now lick my stinky feet."

My dick was on the verge of exploding. Sticking out my tongue, I started from the heel, and did a long, slow lick up her foot. The taste was overwhelming, and really salty. I continued to lick, up and down, up and down, until she slapped me with her other foot.

"Don't forget in between the toes." she scolded.

"Yes, Mistress Prasad."

I nearly gagged when I stuck my tongue between her toes, the dirtiest, sweatiest, smelliest part. Every nook and cranny of her toes was filled with toe cheese, but I was too horny to be as disgusted by it as I should have. Divya laughed as I gulped down the bits of dead skin and toe gunk, telling me to give the same treatment to her other foot. I did, and no matter how much I licked or how much of her toe cheese I swallowed, the smell wouldn't go away.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am to have a foot boy again." Divya giggled, nearly making me stop. I'd never heard the boss giggle before. It was sweet, cute, in a way. "Keep going." she hissed. "I certainly didn't tell you to stop." I went back to licking her feet and sucking her toes.

"There are going to be some new rules." she stated, crossing her feet. I kept licking, alternating feet. "As I said before, you will give me a minimum of thrice daily massages, and when we are alone, I will be referred to as either Mistress Prasad or Lady Divya. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Prasad." I mumbled through a mouthful of toes.

"But there are a few other rules, as well. Whenever we're alone, you're to kneel at my feet, say 'I live to serve', and kiss my shoes until I say stop. You are also to follow any order I give, without question. The only thing I want to hear out of that slave mouth is 'Yes, mistress' or 'Thank you, mistress'. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mistress Prasad. Thank you, Mistress, Prasad."

Divya smiled. "Good boy. You know your place, and your inferiority. Failure to follow any of my commands will be met with...severe punishment. I might tie a heel to your face and leave you bound and gagged under my desk."

My heart pounded at that thought. That sounded less like a punishment and more like a reward, but I didn't say anything.

"Get up." she commanded. "Get one of my heels and take off your pants and underwear."

Nervous, but excited, I picked up one of her smelly heels while pulling down my jeans and boxers. I briefly saw her eyes widen as my rock-hard cock sprung out. "Goodness." she growled lustily. "I suppose it

is

true what they say about black men. I wouldn't mind feeling that cock between my feet one day..."

"Thank you, Mistress Prasad." I replied, feeling strangely flattered.

"Now, I want you to smell that heel while you masturbate."

If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. "Yes, Mistress Prasad." I buried my face in the heel and started pumping. The smell of her sweaty feet mixed with the worn leather of her heels filled me up, and my erection grew ever larger.

"That's it, stroke it, slave." Her voice was silken and steel, dominant and encouraging, feet mesmerizing as she scrunched her soles and wiggled her toes. "Smell the odor of my stinky feet and jerk that cock. Do it. Harder." She slapped her hand on the desk and smiled cruelly. "I said, harder! Smell my stinky heel!"

I'd only been at it for a minute or two but I felt like I was going to cum any second. The sight of her feet teasing me and the acrid, sour smell of her shoe was driving me mad, as was the dominant, sexy glare she was giving me. I groaned as I came, spurting my seed on her desk.

"Disgusting..." Divya spat. She reached into her drawer and pulled out a box of tissues. "Wipe down my desk and clean yourself up before you leave. I want you back in here just before closing."

"Yes, Mistress Prasad." I replied as I began cleaning her desk, cock and balls still bobbing freely. "Thank you so much, Mistress Prasad."

"And Mr. Brown?" I looked up at her to see her smiling. Not a cruel or mocking or dominant smile. Just a normal, actually normal, sweet smile. Again, she scrunched her soles and wiggled her toes, and I could feel myself getting hard all over again.

"Welcome to slavery."