PART I
With Beth's thick-soled, fishnet-covered foot just inches from his face, her heel on his bare chest and her toes wiggling, the musty stench was overpowering. It was still had to believe this was really happening to him, although, he realized, it had been weeks in the making.
"Ready to smell 'em up close?" asked the woman who'd first showed him his new apartment earlier that month. He would have answered that her feet were close enough to his face, if he hadn't been bound naked to the floor and gagged.
The same woman who'd been so kind to him only three weeks before was now informing him how much she wanted him to smell her stinking sweaty feet. He'd never been naked in front of so many women, let alone asked to smell and lick their dirty, sweaty feet.
He wanted to understand. Why were Beth and her friends tormenting him like this? And why were they laughing at his humiliation? They'd promised it was all in good fun, and he'd even begun to believe it. But it was too late to run. Too late to take it all back. The straps on his ankles and wrists were too tight; and even if he'd pulled free, there were too many of them to keep him from running.
He could hear Beth unzipping her other boot, before producing her other fishnet stockinged foot and crossing it over her other foot. As she wiggled all ten toes, he tried not to breathe in the hot rush of foot odor; but he could only hold his breath about thirty seconds before he'd be compelled to take a deep breath and the stench flooded his nose.
"I've been soooo looking forward to this," said Beth as she raised her plump foot and brought it squarely down on his face, the ball of her fishnet foot flush against his nostrils.
To the cheers and applause of the other women in the room, Beth worked both feet into his face, curling her fishnet toes over his nose. The stink was pungent, sweet vinegar sweat with a hint of cheese, from her old ankle boots. He wanted to tell her off but he couldn't even breathe through his mouth much less curse them out. All he could do was sniff her smelly toes, again and again, as she wiggled them over his nose.
As Beth rubbed her warm, sweaty feet all over his face, his thoughts turned to the weeks before. When did it all go wrong? What had he passed the point of no return? There was a sequence of events; best to start at the beginning.
It had all begun the Saturday he went apartment hunting. He was new to town, having just landed a new job; and he was eager to find a place of his own. Living in a motel wasn't an option.
One of the first places he'd found was a pair of three-story apartments on a cul-de-sac. They were remote, undeveloped land separating them by at least half a block from other buildings. The owner was a woman by the name of Beth; a gorgeous woman who admitted to being over forty though she didn't look a day over thirty. In her knee -high boots, skirt and blouse, she was an elegant woman, who knew how to make the most of her figure. She said she'd packed on pounds since her modeling days, but she couldn't have seemed more divine.
Beth told him that she wasn't in the habit of renting to men but that she'd consider making an exception. Slipping off her boots, her legs were shapely yet slender as she walked around on the new carpet.
"You've got to go barefoot to appreciate a carpet like this," she remarked as she pranced around. "It's like a foot massage just walking around."
Beth wanted to show him the swimming pool and even invited him to take a swim. He was so charmed by her, stealing glances at every opportunity, that he would have agreed to anything she said; but he didn't have a pair of swim trunks on him. "No worries," she replied, a hand to his upper arm, "I've got some men's swim trunks you can wear," she added before running out the door.
He knew she was much too beautiful and successful to take an interest in him, but he could still imagine her begging him to fuck her. The most he could hope for was a little casual sex, which was more than enough.
When she returned with a pair of skimpy trunks, he was hesitant to put them on, yet he didn't want to disappoint her. He looked good in swim trunks, so it wasn't an issue. Using the bathroom, he changed into the trunks and emerged to Beth's admiring eyes. She directed him outside and gestured him into the pool area. The water was warm and inviting.
"With a pool like this to dip into, how could you say no," she said, coquettishly by the pool. He could almost hear whispering from the building, but he thought nothing of it. He was pleased that Beth was pleased. And once he dried off and got dressed, she was waiting for him, pen in hand, to sign the contract.
Beth's assistant Hayley, a Goth chick in her mid twenties - black boots, nails, lipstick and hair in stark contrast to her ivory skin - brought the contract in. He should have read it, because it was a two year lease with a huge penalty for terminating early. It was effectively up to Beth whether someone could move out early or not.
Hayley smirked at Haley's every request, but still managed a wink and a smile for him. Haley wasn't his type, at least not the way Beth was. Beth was perfection. How he looked forward to live in close proximity to her.
Thinking back to that day, he knew he'd been rash. It was desire for Beth that led him astray. He should have been more cautious. It was an all female apartment complex after all. It made no sense to make an exception for him; though, at the time, he wanted to be the exception to the rule.
Moving in was easy enough. He didn't have many belongings. Though seeing how many attractive women lived there, he was convinced he'd never made such a brilliant decision. He marveled at his good fortune, to be one man amongst such beauty. If they weren't conventionally beautiful, they were attractive in a sexually charged way; that or they were ridiculously fit.
The women were friendly. With four units on each floor, he had three immediate neighbors including Leigh, Jerri who introduced themselves the first day. Surprisingly, they were all too happy to help him move in, quick to carry up boxes and furniture. Leigh was a body-building red-head with startling strength for her five foot six frame; ever casual in her sport shirts, jeans and sneakers. Jerri was a tall brunette, close to five foot eight, who was always in the same ratty old Converse sneakers and jeans shorts. Her long tan legs were a joy to behold and Jerri seemed to love showing them off.
He didn't think twice when Jerri and Leigh also offered to help him unpack. They were quick to open his suitcases and before long they were giggling about where to put his boxer shorts.
"I figured you for a boxer short kind of guy," said Leigh and a smirk.
"What's wrong with boxers?" remarked Jerri, smiling broadly. "Same thing. "
"I bet he looks good in both," added Leigh with a chuckle.
"Maybe you'll model them for us, one day," ventured Jerri.
He'd never been with two women at the same time, and figured it was an invitation for a threesome.
"I'm sure I could be persuaded," he offered.
"What are you wearing now?" asked Leigh before reaching for his belt buckle, her fingers grazing the skin just inside his briefs.
"Briefs, actually," he replied, slightly crimson at the unexpected advance.
Leigh and Jerri shared a chuckle before rummaging through the rest of his clothes. They talked about dressing him up and trying outfits on him, which seemed appealing enough at the time. They enjoyed touching him and he enjoyed being touched by them.
The other neighbors hadn't introduced themselves, but they always had a smile for him. They made him feel like a sultan visiting his harem.
Things took a strange turn the day he met Carrie Ann, one of the upstairs neighbors. She was stunning woman in her mid thirties, something of a beauty queen in her own right in her strappy heels and dresses. When she introduced herself, he was at a loss for words.
"I was looking forward to meeting you," she said, with a warm smile. "Welcome."
"Thanks. I'm thrilled to be here."
"You've been the talk of the building for days now. You'd think they were a bunch of giddy school girls. Then again, it's not every day a cute boy moves in. In fact, I think you're the first. First boy, that is."
He didn't mind being called a boy; though, in retrospect, it may have been demeaning, despite her winning smile.
