Santas New Job

I woke up with a pounding headache and my head felt heavy as if it had grown to twice its size. I looked at my alarm clock and realized it was 5:54 p.m. "Son of a bitch," I said out loud. I had to be at the mall by 6 p.m. for my evening shift at the Christmas display. I didn't have time to shave or shower. I got dressed in the same clothes I'd warn the night before, took some ibuprofen, threw on my coat, grabbed my keys, and walked out the door.

As I drove to the mall in my beat up Camry, I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror with a cherry scented air freshener, in the shape of a foot, hanging from it. My face was puffy and my eyes were bloodshot with large bags under them. Years of stress and smoking had turned my skin leathery like an old catcher's mitt. I felt my face and wondered where my life had gone. I was fifty-five and my birthday was in a few days, but I had no plans to celebrate.

When I arrived at the mall, I stepped inside like I was an inmate on death row headed for the gas chamber. The place was crowded and the bright lights hurt my eyes. I walked passed the North Pole display, which was located outside of a Foot Action, where families were already lined up to take pictures with Santa, and made my way into the backroom.

"Where the hell have you been?" my coworker Tim asked as he rushed up to me dressed in his elf costume.

"Uh, I had a long night," I said wiping my mouth.

"You look like dog shit, Bob. Vicky won't be happy about this," Tim said shaking his head.

"Get off my ass, will ya?"

I changed into my Santa costume and put on my beard and hat. At that moment, my supervisor, Vicky Donner, walked into the backroom wearing a red blazer with a red skirt, tan nylon stockings, and high heels. She was also wearing a plush reindeer antler headband. She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked much younger with natural blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

"You're late," she said with her hands on her hips.

"It won't happen again," I said.

"I'll need to see you in my office after your shift is over." I nodded.

I needed a cigarette, but I didn't have time for a smoke break. I made my way back to the North Pole display and took my seat at my throne, which was a red velvet chair with presents stacked on both sides of it. Behind me, a Christmas tree and a snowman were setup next to two large candy canes.

I took a deep breath and scanned my eyes over the long line of children and parents, and I felt my stomach drop to the floor. I think I'm gonna pass out.

Tim walked over to me and whispered in my ear, "Get in character."

"Ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas!" I said as I waved to the crowd. A father and his crying son approached me. Oh boy, I thought. The father picked up the boy as he screamed his head off and placed him on my lap. "What do you want Santa to bring you this year, little boy?" The boy continued to scream and cry until his father had to take him away without getting a photo taken. Next, a girl approached me and stopped. She turned around and glanced at her mother who waved with her hand to keep moving forward. She turned back to face me and cautiously sat in my lap. "What do you want Santa to bring you this year, little girl?"

"I want a pony."

"Well, that's a tough one, but I'll see what I can do." I posed to take a photo with the little girl and when they were finished, she smiled and gave me a hug. As I looked at the front of the line, I noticed an older boy who looked like trouble. As the boy approached and sat in my lap, I felt uneasy and my beard began to twitch. "What do you want Santa to bring you this year, young man?"

"You smell funny."

"That's not very nice to say. Where are your parents?"

"You don't even look like Santa. You're a fraud!" At that moment, the boy pulled on my beard until it came off. All the children gasped as they caught sight of my ugly mug. Some of the children even started to cry. As the boy tried to run away, I grabbed him by his arms.

"You little shit!"

Tim rushed over and escorted the boy away from the display. I put my beard back on and tried to calm myself down. I need a drink, I thought.

After my shift was over, I headed back into the backroom to change when Vicky walked in.

"In my office. Now."

I stepped into her office still dressed in my Santa costume, but without the hat or beard, and took a seat in front of her desk.

"What were you thinking, cursing in front of those poor kids like that?"

"I...I wasn't. I apologize for that."

"Your performance has been unsatisfactory. This is the third time you've been late in recent weeks. I'm afraid I have to let you go."

"Please, I can't lose this job," I said.

"Don't you dare 'please' me."

"Give me another chance. I'm begging you."

"You've been given enough chances already," Vicky said.

"I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything," I said with desperation in my eyes. And I could tell that a part of Vicky was enjoying how pathetic I looked.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll let you keep your job if you can perform a simple task for me."

"What's the task?"

With an evil grin, she said, "Well, I've been running around in these high heels all day and my feet are really starting to ache."

"So you want me to rub them?"

"Not quite," she said as she reached down and picked up a silver stand with mistletoe hanging from its hook. "Like my new present?"

"Not really."

"I usually keep it under my desk," she said as she removed her heels one by one, revealing her stocking-clad feet, which she placed up on her desk, next to the stand. "Look, now I have

mistletoes

," she said with a hysterical laugh.

"Funny."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"I'm not doing it."

"Oh, you're doing it. Now kiss my feet."

"No."

"Kiss my feet or lose your job."

"Okay. Okay, you win," I said as I quickly leaned over and planted a peck on her toes. "There. Are you happy?"

"No, I said

feet

. That's plural." I rolled my eyes before planting a peck on her other foot.

"This is so humiliating. Are we done here?"

"I'm not liking your attitude at the moment. Now, I want you to smell my feet."

"I can smell them from here," I said scrunching up my face.

"I want to feel your nose against my toes."

"Are you crazy?"

"No. If you want to keep your job, you'll have to swallow your pride and smell my feet."

"But they're all sweaty."

"Do you want to keep your job or not?"

I stared into her eyes and lowered my head. "Yes."

"Then you know what you have to do."

I grimaced slightly as Vicky pointed to her feet. I leaned in close to her damp soles and scrunched up my nose as she wiggled her toes in my face. And I could smell the musky odor of sweat mixed with leather wafting from her feet.

"Geez, I can really smell them from here," Vicky said with a laugh. "You're in for a real treat."

I gave her toes a quick sniff and immediately jerked my head away. "There. I did it," I said trying not to cough.

"You'll have to do better than that," she said.

"But your feet smell."

"Awww, of course they do. But don't worry. You'll learn to love the scent of a dominant woman's feet. Now bury your nose in my stinky toes and take a deep breath." I couldn't believe what was happening. I'd never felt more humiliated in my life, but I couldn't afford to lose my job. I was facing eviction and needed the money to pay my rent. I gulped and buried my nose in her toes and gave them a longer sniff. And I closed my eyes as the powerful aroma overwhelmed me. "Harder. I want to hear you sniffing." At her command, I sniffed a little harder. "That's it. Good boy. Sniff that sweat." I continued sniffing, but I had to force myself to endure the odor.

"How long do I have to do this?"

"Until I order you to stop. Keep sniffing." My humiliation continued for what seemed like an eternity, and I was starting to feel lightheaded. "That's good," Vicky said. She seemed to enjoy humiliating me and seeing the pitiful look in my eyes.

"So I can go now?"

"Of course not. We're just getting started. Now take off my stockings."

"Come on, haven't I done enough?"

"Take them off. Now. And don't make faces." I slowly peeled off her stockings and set them aside. "Don't you just love my new pedicure?" Vicky asked as she wiggled her red painted toes with white snowflake nail art designs on them. "Now, I want you to sniff my bare feet. Get your nose right between my toes where all the sweat is." I stared at her soft soles and tried to imagine that I was somewhere else. This isn't happening. I leaned in and buried my nose in her toes and sniffed as the vinegary scent filled my nostrils. And I let out a whimper that made Vicky giggle. "Mmmmmmm. Doesn't that smell nice?" I shook my head. "Keep your head still." She clamped my nose between her big toe and her second toe and laughed. "Looks like you're starting to get in the Christmas spirit. First your face was red, now it's turning green!" She threw her head back and laughed. "What's the matter? Is the smell too strong for you?" I nodded. "Awww, you look like you're about to cry. Too bad. I'm having way too much fun with you now." I continued sniffing as she used my nose to massage her sore, tired feet. She pressed her toes to my lips and smothered my nose so all I could breathe was her aroma. "Now I wonder, will the smell go away if you lick my soles?" My eyes immediately widened. No, please. No, I thought. "Stick out your tongue." I shook my head. "Stick it out. Now. Do as I say or things will get worse for you." I didn't want to take any chances so I stuck out my long, wet tongue. "Lick." I then pressed it to her sole and licked up her arch. I grimaced from the salty taste of her sweat, which made me want to gag. "Get all the sweat off of it." I continued to lick and taste her salty sole in agony. "Good. That's good. Now the other one." I pressed my tongue to her other sole and licked until it was glistening wet. "Now how do my feet smell?" She covered my face with her soles so I could give them a sniff.

"They smell worse," I said with a whimper.

"Good. Keep sniffing. I want your face to smell like my stinky feet for the rest of the night. You're going to need to hang a dozen car air fresheners around your neck once you leave here." I continued sniffing as she rubbed her feet all over my face. In the back of my mind, I was hoping things wouldn't get worse for me. "How could I make this more humiliating for you? I know, I'll make you clean between my toes."

"No, please! I'll never give you an attitude again."

"Stick out your tongue!" I shut my eyes and forced my tongue out of my mouth. "There you go." As she spread her toes, I licked between them and cleaned out all the grime and sweat. I worked fast, hoping my torture would end quicker that way. After a few minutes, she said, "I think you've learned your lesson. You're free to go." I quickly pulled my head away from her nasty feet and stood up. "But before you leave, I need you to kiss my feet and thank me for not firing you."

I lowered my head and kissed her toes in gratitude. "Thank you."

"That's a good boy. You'll switch positions with Tim and I'll be watching you closely from here on out. If I hear one more complaint about you, you're gone. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Don't make me regret my decision. And one last thing: I hope you enjoyed the smell and taste of my feet because as long as you're working here, you'll have to worship them for my pleasure. And Christmas is a long ways away."