This is a story with slow development so if you're after a quick fix I'd advise you to look elsewhere or risk getting frustrated. The story explores the themes of foot fetish, female dominance and cum eating. If that's not your thing then move along; this isn't the story you're looking for. Also as this is my first attempt at writing a story (of any kind!) and English is not my mother tongue, I would appreciate any feedback and of course constructive criticism too. Thanks & enjoy!
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I poured out of the crammed tube and followed the sea of people that formed the human rush-hour traffic. As I left the station and began my pacey walk towards work, I gazed at the sky searching in vain for a sign of spring. This is London after all; The Land of Never Summer as me and my friends sarcastically call it.
I work as a software engineer for a bank in the City. After graduating from a synonymous course at university, I contracted here and there to gain some experience and held a couple of different positions at smaller startup firms. At the age of 28 I had grown a bit more mature and risk-averse, so I made the jump to the corporate world by accepting what was a very good offer to join my current employers. Life had been going smoothly to start off with, but after 2 years into my time there, Lehman Brothers collapsed triggering the well-known massive economic fallout. 10 months later things had seriously deteriorated at the bank.
- "Morning Rob, how's it going mate? Ready for another hectic day? Thank god it's Friday, eh?"
My friend and colleague James offered the casual small talk over the coffee machine. I've known James from my university days and he was the one who had notified me of the vacancy at the bank and helped me, by giving me interview tips and putting in a good word, to get the job. We were housemates in our final year at university and as can be expected there were very few secrets between us.
- "Tell me about it. Can't wait for the bloody week to end" I said.
In the post-financial crisis world, banks were coming under extreme pressure from all sides. The attitudes of politicians, press and general public as well as the terrible market conditions had all contributed in creating a bit of a siege mentality in the sector. It was never discussed openly, but it was common knowledge that pretty much every major bank was in some level of trouble and fighting for survival. The cutbacks and redundancies had a caused a loss of morale and people were working harder to fill the gaps left by the departed.
- "Don't forget it's Jon's last day today so we're going to the pub after work. Also apparently this new girl, who starts work on Monday, will be there to meet everyone a bit more casually before she starts. You should come" opined James.
Jon was one of the voluntary redundancies. The new girl joining was another cost saving attempt by our director. Before culling more staff he decided to reduce the amount of money spent on recruitment agents by creating a one-person HR department for IT. Allegedly she was a young girl with no university degree who had worked as a sales assistant at a clothes shop for a couple of years. She would be responsible for placing adverts for jobs on websites and applying a first filter on the incoming applications while also doing some general office admin work.
The mood at the pub that evening was surprisingly cheery. Jon had worked for the bank for nearly 11 years, so he had built a decent cash buffer and along with his severance package he felt he was safe for a while and quite relieved to be leaving the stresses of the banking world behind.
-"Gents, let me start by offering my deep gratitude to Jon for his long service to the company and wishing him all the best for the future" said Chris, our director. Glasses raised in cheers.
-"I would also like this opportunity to introduce our new member of staff to you, Nicole. I hope you'll all make her feel welcome over the coming months!"
Nicole turned out to be quite the looker after all. She was about 5ft 7" with long auburn hair and big blue eyes. She had the lithe body of a 21 year old girl with very gentle facial features and a tattoo of an almond tree branch on the inside of her right forearm. She was wearing a deep blue dress that stopped mid-thigh and showed off her perfectly toned legs as she stood on a pair of black heels.
James leaned into my ear and whispered sarcastically "I wonder what he sees in her! Chris, you dog, you!" I gave a silent chuckle.
Over the next 2 hours spent in the pub I slowly came to the realisation that Chris had made a very shrewd business decision. Nicole was not the shy 21 year-old I had been at her age. Instead she exuded a comfortable almost tomboyish confidence despite the occasion. She was very sociable and quick to laughter, with a cheeky sense of humour and a radiant smile that made everyone warm up to her pretty quickly. She very quickly became the toast of the evening and everybody wanted to chat with her. Chris had put a beautiful, young, talkative girl in a department consisting entirely of men, which would at small cost boost the ailing staff morale. If she showed any aptitude at office and HR work, he might actually cut costs to boot. I had to take my hat off to the man.
Next Monday, Nicole took a seat in the next of row of desks from mine and a few desks down. One of the first things she did as part of her desk decorations was to blue-tack a picture of her and her boyfriend on the side of the screen. I looked over at James who was shaking his head disapprovingly. Within seconds had an email from him:
"Boooooo! Such a pity"
Nicole usually sat with one or both her legs crossed under her like a Buddha, leaving her pumps under the desk. When she'd leave her desk she'd walk the carpeted floors with the careless abandon of a teenager wearing only her tights. On the days when she'd wear thin, see-through tights you could very clearly see her perfect feet and toes; nails always impeccably painted in a bright hue of red, pink or orange.
I should perhaps at this point explain that I've had a foot fetish for as long as I can remember. I find foot worship extremely erotic and the musky odour of sweaty, female feet strangely intoxicating and arousing. While I had never even fully explored (let alone expressed) the depth of my depravity, I had enjoyed light foot-play and foot jobs from previous girlfriends. With that mind, you can imagine the effect a sexy 21yo walking almost bare-foot through the office would have on me.
I noticed that I was not the only one who had been drawn in by the beautiful sight. James, ever the inappropriate humourist, said to me over pints in the pub one evening:
- "I don't even have a foot thing, like you, but I'd still give one of my bollocks to fuck those feet bare. I really would". I laughed out loud at the suggestion and explained that I would easily match his bid if it ever came down to an auction.
A couple of months later and into the summer, Nicole had settled into the corporate life just fine. She would jog into work where she'd have a shower and change into her work clothes. During the day she seemed not at all bothered by doing the most boring, menial tasks that an office could provide. We had chatted a few times by the water cooler and in the pub so we'd become quite comfortable with each other but our conversations were completely sterile of any sexual innuendo. She was a 21yo young girl in a relationship after all and I was a 30yo bloke. "She must see me as ancient, I'd imagine" I mused to myself. But still, I could not get those toes off my mind.
One day though something unexpected happened. It was just after lunch and I was walking back to my desk munching on an apple as I did so. The way to my desk always passed right behind Nicole's seat and as I was there I discarded my apple core in her bin (each desk had its own small bin).
"Hey!" protested Nicole as she swiveled her chair around to face me. "You always fill up my bin with your rubbish! What's up with that?" she said, clearly in jest. She had folded her arms and crossed her legs and assumed a confident position.
I was just about to make a joke about it and leave but I was beaten to it by her next remark.
"Oh no Mister!" she said in mock seriousness. "I want to see you get down there and pick up your rubbish from my bin" she said and with that she dangled her free leg over the bin, curling her toes to point down at it.
Nicole, despite her serious and demanding tone, was obviously joking. The rubbish gets picked by the cleaners anyway and she of course didn't expect me to kneel in front of her feet and pick up rubbish from her bin with my bare hands. There was something however in her voice and the way she was dangling her foot in front of me that had me transfixed, staring at her toes.
-"Go on..." She said, sensing my indecision.
Nobody around us had batted an eyelid at the conversation, taking it correctly for a joke.