She Called Me A Foot Freak
(Posted on Sunday, May 6, 2001)
This story was submitted anonymously.

I am a middle manager in a large Midwestern Insurance Company, and I would like to relate a humiliating story to you.  I don’t remember when I first realized that I had a foot fetish, but it has become an intense desire that I sometimes have difficulty disguising.  Last March during our spring premium review, I had been working late almost every night trying to sort out all kinds of different claim and premium problems.  Rhonda, my personal secretary, normally stayed late to help me on these occasions in spite of the fact that she was young and, to be honest, not very bright.  Rhonda is about 5’ 6” tall and very slim.  She almost always wears black nylons and skirts during the winter months, and comes to work with bare legs and open toed shoes during the summer.  Her legs are long and slender with beautiful calves, and the sexiest feet I have seen.  Her toes are short but not pudgy and she has these incredible high arches that I long to run my tongue over.

It was a Wednesday night around 9:30 p.m. and we were both very tired. I had loosened my tie, and to my delight, Rhonda had slipped off her red leather pumps and was working in her black nylons.  I asked Rhonda to bring some file or other to my desk for review, and she began rooting through a pile of things.  As she dug through the heap, it shifted and fell into a shambles of loose papers scattered all over the floor.  I was furious because Rhonda was always doing this kind of thing, and I envisioned a long night of sorting out the files that she had spilled.

“Goddamn it Rhonda, watch what you’re doing!” I shouted at her.

She looked up from gathering the files and fixed me with an angry stare. “Listen,” she said, “if it weren’t for me, you’d be at this until July at least. You could show me a little respect.”

I looked down at her from behind my desk, still angry at the thought of the extra work ahead of me. As I watched, she turned her back and crouched down so that the arches of her sexy feet were stretched tight as she kneeled on the floor.  Her tight ass was stretching the fabric of her gray dress and I could see that she was wearing thong underwear since there were no panty lines. As she worked, she looked back over her shoulder to reach some papers and noticed me staring at her.
“You son of a bitch, what are you staring at?” she demanded.

I quickly raised my eyes and stammered, “I … I was looking at the Thompson file. It’s scattered all over the floor.  It will take me…”

She interrupted furiously. “You lying cocksucker! You were staring at my ass!”

I was confused at first because of course I had been staring at her feet, not at her ass. Then I began to get angry because of the way she spoke to me.  I said, “What did you call me? If you ever use that language on me again, I’ll see that you get fired for insubordination you stupid bitch!”

That really set her off. She started screaming about sexual harassment and the way I always stared down her blouse when she was working. This was a lie, but it had the effect she wanted. I started to get pretty scared because a sexual harassment suit is nothing to ignore. I wanted to smooth out the situation, so I said calmly, “Look Rhonda, why don’t you just go home? We’re both tired and we’ve had a long day.”

She looked at me for a moment, then with eyes still blazing, she turned and left the office without another word. As she walked out, slamming the door, I saw her sexy red pumps by the desk. She must have left them behind. I knew she had another pair of shoes that she left under her desk to walk home in, so I hoped that she might leave her pumps in my office. I listened and waited anxiously to hear the sound of the outer door shutting. Finally I heard the door close and a lock turn in the keyhole.

I hurried around the desk and picked up her right shoe. I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. The mixed aroma of perspiration and leather was enough to cause a stirring in my pants. I picked up her left shoe and began to rub it against my growing erection while continuing to smell the intoxicating odour of her right shoe. Soon my penis was pushing painfully into the front of my pants, and since it was now past 10:00 p.m., I decided to unzip my fly and release it. Once I had my erection out, I placed Rhonda’s left pump over the head and began to stroke it against the supple leather of the insole. My pre-cum made the leather slippery and I groaned with pleasure as I licked the insole of her right shoe. The salty taste of her shoe and the sensation of the leather against my throbbing penis was beginning to bring me to orgasm.

Just then I heard a key in the outer door lock. My blood ran cold because I knew it could only be Rhonda returning to for some reason. I dropped the pumps and frantically began to zip up my pants. I had just gotten my pants done up when the inner office door opened and Rhonda stepped in.  “I forgot my pumps…” she began, and then she caught sight of my face and the shoes at my feet. She didn’t say anything, but walked slowly into the room and looked down at her shoes. She bent over and picked them up, and then ran her fingers along the insoles of each one with a thoughtful expression on her face. Finally she looked up at me and said, “I guess you weren’t looking at my ass before were you?” I didn’t answer her, but just stood red-faced with my raging hard-on making a tent in the front of my pants. “Now I understand. You’re one of those foot freaks aren’t you?”

Again I only stood silently and stared at her. “You stupid shithead. Do you think I don’t know what precum feels like?” She rubbed her fingers together where she had touched her insoles.
“Well freak? Answer me!” she yelled in my face. I decided that staying silent was my best course of action, but I quickly realized that that was a very large mistake. She stepped back and surveyed me. The bulge in my pants was unmistakable, and my ruby-red cheeks only made the situation even more obvious. For a moment she said nothing, then she slowly removed her other shoes and put her pumps back on.

“Alright you motherfucker, if you aren’t going to answer me, then I guess I’ll just have to check for myself.” Without warning she drove her fist into me stomach just above my belt causing me to gasp for air and double over. When I had fallen to my knees, she slapped me very hard across the face knocking me over onto my side. “Roll over on your back you sick pig!”

At first I hesitated, but she brought her foot back to kick me and I quickly thought better of it and rolled over as she had demanded. “OK asshole, let’s see if this is what you like.” Slowly she lifted her right foot and placed it on the bulge in the front of my pants. I gasped with pleasure and let out a little moan of ecstasy as the heel of her pump pressed into my balls and the flat of her shoe pressed my erection into my soft stomach.

“So, you do like it don’t you?” Again I remained silent, only staring up at her with lust crazed eyes. “Answer me!” she screamed, raising her foot up and stomping down on my erection.

I screamed in pain, but managed to choke out a strangled, “Yes.”

“Yes what?” she asked looking down at me as I writhed in pain in front of her.

“Yes Mistress,” I croaked.

“OK then, Freak, roll over and take your pants down.” She said with a cruel grin.

Without hesitation I obeyed, fumbling with my belt buckle and finally sliding my pants down around my ankles.

“Let’s see how you handle this.” She said with a little laugh.

She again lifted her foot, and placed it on my now exposed erection. The feeling of the cold leather against my hot erection was like electricity. My body jerked and quivered uncontrollably as she ground her foot into me penis in a slow circle. The precum began to dribble out of the head of my penis, lubricating it as it slid on my stomach.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I was right about your sick little fantasies, wasn’t I?” She looked down at me with a cruel smile as she continued to slowly rotate her red pump against my rock hard cock. Abruptly she removed her foot and said, “Take off all of your clothes.”

I stood at once and did as she asked, peeling off my shirt without unbuttoning it and throwing it aside. I then took my pants and underwear from around my ankles and tossed them on the pile. I watched transfixed as she slowly came toward me with the same cruel smile on her lips.

“Now,” she said, “I’m going to show you what I can do with these little feet you love so much.  Lie down.”

I laid back down and looked up at her with anticipation. I watched as she slowly removed her pumps and laid them carefully aside. Then she hiked up her skirt and slowly rolled one stocking down her creamy thigh, bunching it into her hand as she worked it down. “Here,” she said, tossing it to me. “I want this all the way in your mouth so that I can’t see any part of it, understand?”

I nodded and said, “Yes Mistress,” and began to shove the stocking into my mouth. The taste of her perspiration was incredible, and the sensation of the nylon filling my mouth only made my erection pulse even more as I laid at her feet.

“That’s not far enough, slave.” She said, and pushed the nylon almost down my throat with her sexy bare toes. She laughed cruelly as I gagged on the nylon, and only pushed harder when I began to choke. Eventually I got control of myself and she stepped back to unroll the other black stocking from her incredible leg.

“I have other plans for this one.” She said as she stretched the nylon out into a long shimmering rope. She bent slowly and wrapped the taut nylon around my balls and erect penis making it into a kind of collar, and pulling my balls up tight against the base of my cock, tying the nylon in a tight knot. I could feel the pressure of the nylon against my aching balls, and the loose ends tickling the inside of my thighs. Combined with the taste and texture of the nylon in my mouth, it caused more precum to dribble form my cock.

“That’s better,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She came forward again and stood between my legs looking down at my cock. “I think we need a little lubrication here.” She said thoughtfully. All at once she made a hacking noise in the back of her throat, then gathered the spit into a wad on her tongue. She leaned forward slightly and released a long streamer of drool that dangled down toward my throbbing erection, and finally dribbled up and down the length.  The sensation was indescribable as the hot spit coated my cock. I groaned again deep in my throat, a sound that was barely audible past the nylon filling my mouth.

“Now then, lets get started.” She said.

She lifted her bare right foot and ran her right toe from the tip of my cock to the base, spreading the spit up and down and from side to side. Again I writhed in pleasure as just one of her sexy toes lubricated my cock. All the while she spoke to me in low tones. “Now I know you have wanted to suck my feet for months you pig. I have watched you watching me as I worked at my desk, but I always imagined you were looking at my tits or my ass like a normal person would. It turns out that you are just a twisted sex freak, only interested in my dirty smelly feet. Isn’t that right slave?”

I nodded, grunting and straining to make greater contact with her toes. She sensed when I was going to thrust against her, and always moved her foot back at the last minute. Now she ran the top of her foot and toes against my taut balls tied up in the nylon, tickling me in the most exquisite way. Without warning she placed the flat of her bare foot down on the length of my erection and pushed firmly. I gasped and choked again on the nylon in my throat. She begin to grind her bare foot into my penis in slow spit-slippery circles, chuckling as I made animal sounds.

“Do you want to come freak?” she asked.

I nodded feverishly, beside myself with desire.

“Not yet freak, but soon.” She said looking down at me with contempt. “You are not worthy to ejaculate onto these feet, are you freak?”

I shook my head, miserably assuming that I wouldn’t be allowed to come at all until she let me masturbate myself to a climax. How wrong I was, I discovered.

“Stand up, freak.” She ordered.

In spite of my weak knees, I staggered to my feet and waited for instructions with my cock pointing up toward the ceiling, and her spit dripping off my balls.

“Stand behind your desk, freak.” She ordered.

I did as I was told and walked behind my desk, pushing the chair out of the way as I went. To my amazement she jumped nimbly up onto the top of my desk and stood before me looking down.

“Alright, freak, now you can come.” She looked at my desk, covered with important files and original signed copies of insurance documents. I realized what she wanted and shook my head backing away. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed my hair. With her right she slapped me very hard across my face.

“I didn’t say you could move, freak. Come closer.”

I obeyed, staring up at her with pleading, watering eyes. She hacked loudly again and plopped a puddle of spit right on the edge of the desk where I was standing. She then lifted her right foot and trapped my cock between here toes and the puddle of spit on the desk. Slowly she rotated my cock, swirling it into the spit puddle. The feeling of the slimy spit, the hard desk and her soft toes was electrifying.  My vision began to blur as my climax approached. I looked down at my cock trapped between my Mistress’ foot and the desk, and barely noticed a streamer of my own drool soaking through the nylon, running from my lower lip and trickling down my stomach.

“Well, freak, are you going to come?” She asked applying more pressure to my throbbing penis. I stared wild eyed up at her, and she laughed when she saw the look in my eyes. “This will teach you some respect, freak. From now on when we are alone you will address me as Mistress. You will get my coffee every morning, and foot massages whenever I want them, even if it means missing important meetings or getting reprimanded by your boss. Do you understand, freak?”

I nodded my head, barely able to concentrate on what she was saying.  The desire to come was overpowering me entirely, and I would have agreed to murder by that point if she had asked.

“Alright then, freak, go ahead and come.”

In all my life I had never been so ready. The sperm exploded from the tip of my penis, the first few squirts flying beyond the other side onto the carpet beyond.  Rhonda continued her slow undulations and my vision started to cloud as rope after rope of white, hot come sprayed the papers and files on my desk.  It seemed like I would come forever, but finally the waves of my orgasm subsided.

She reached down and slowly untied the nylon from my penis and balls, releasing another large puddle of come that had built up behind the black nylon. I looked down at the mess on my desk.  Papers were already beginning to wrinkle up from the semen, and I could see smeared ink on a number of the original documents. Rhonda stepped carefully down from the desk and surveyed the damage.

“Well, freak, it looks like you have some cleaning up to do. Don’t forget what I said, or I promise I will report you to the partners for sexual harassment. Got it?”

I nodded miserably and slumped into my chair. Rhonda turned to leave and then said over her shoulder, “You can keep the nylons.” I could still hear her laughing as she went out the outer door.