PART 12
Wade jerked his leg back out of my grasp and slammed a kick across my
face. I yelped in pain as stars spiraled through my sight, but somehow held
onto his other leg. I scrambled after him, crawling on my belly as he tried to
break away. He cursed at me, kicking me about the head and shoulders as I tried
to lick kiss his feet. I ignored the pain as best as I could, my whole being
focused on getting at his shoes. Finally he slammed his heel down on the back
of my head and my face smashed into the floor with enough force to make me let
go. I moaned, more in despair than pain as he scrambled back and out of my
reach.
"What the hell are ya doin', ya freak!" he shouted, keeping his
distance. I looked up, tears welling in my eyes and saw that he was at his
desk, his phone in his hand, dialing. Wade usually sat in a small office near
the door where he had a desk, closet, bathroom and filing cabinet. There was a
phone console to call the sixty-odd apartments in the building, as well as a
ledge where packages were usually kept for pick up. There was a wall about four
feet high separating his office from the lobby, allowing him to see the doors in
order to open them when he was needed. He was standing at the wall, phone
receiver in hand as he dialed the phone blindly on his desk while trying to keep
me in sight.
"Callin' the cops on yer ass, faggot! I don't get paid enough fer that
shit!"
Horror gripped me, and the tears started flowing as I crawled forward
again. I did not want to go to jail! God knows what would happen to me there.
In my current state, I would be somebody's bitch within an hour, if I survived
the beating the cops were sure to give me. Wade cursed as I grabbed at his
pants leg again, begging him to stop-
"Wade! Please!" I whined, quickly planting a kiss on the toe of his
shoe before he could snatch it back. I figured that would break the spell and
snap me out of the hypnotic suggestion that had me on my knees, but nothing
happened. It actually got worse-
"Please, Wade! Please! I want to be your slave...Let me lick the dirt
off your shoes!"
I lowered my lips to the dirty leather of his loafers and started
planting kisses all over his shoe. I was intoxicated by the smell, the soft,
supple feel of the worn leather. I ran my tongue along the hard, dirty heel
tasting filth and grit. He slid his foot back and I dragged my tongue over the
spot on the floor where he had been standing. I heard the phone land back in
its cradle then and cautiously craned my neck, looking up.
Wade was towering over me, leaning against the short wall of his office
for support. His eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth open in shock. He was
not a bad looking man, I suppose, though he was almost forty years my senior.
He still had a thick head of dark brown hair with just a hint of gray at the
temples and a salt and pepper mustache. He wore a pair of black slacks and a
white shirt and tie for his job. And of course, the black loafers. I noticed
that he had stopped trying to back away.
"Get the fuck up!" he snapped, though somewhat breathlessly and I
struggled up to kneel before him. He was licking his lips, staring at me as I
looked up. I wanted to beg him to let me go, to forget all this. I wanted to
tell him that I was sick, that someone was making me do this. I hung my head in
shame, staring at his feet, unable to utter a word in my defense. I felt his
hand twist into my shirt collar as he roughly jerked me to my feet-
"I said get up, faggot!" He grabbed my right wrist and twisted my arm
behind me, grinding it up and high into my back. He forced me along on my toes
as he pushed me through the door to his office and roughly shoved me back to the
floor. I was whimpering as he stood above me, staring daggers into me like I
was a dog that had just soiled his carpet. My dick was growing hard in my pants
as he hauled back and kicked me again. I moaned, whining in pain-
"Wade...Please...Just let me lick your shoes, kiss your feet. Then I'll
go. Please-"
He kicked me in the ribs and I flinched away, trying to shield myself.
It hurt, as he was big and his strength was fueled by his rage. He was
breathing heavily, and I could see almost vibrating from an adrenaline rush when
I chanced a glance up again. I could not meet his eyes, but I could feel him
staring at me, staring down at me. He was thinking I could tell, considering
me.
Suddenly he rolled his chair out and away from his desk revealing a
small cubbyhole where his legs would normally fit. "Get in there!" he ordered,
and started kicking me again until I wormed my way into the tight space beneath
his desk. I had to curl up my legs until I was almost in fetal position, and he
kicked me again until I was facing and lying as he wanted me. Finally
satisfied, he sat back into his chair and rolled it up, leaning forward with his
arms resting across his knees as he sneered at me.
"I ain't no faggot like you, boy, but if you want'a massage my feet so
much, I'll let'cha." He shoved a foot under my face, then pressed the other
down on my head to keep me in place. "You just start lickin', an' don't stop
'til I tell ya. I wanna see a shine on those shoes, boy." He ground his heel
into the side of my face. "Get to it!"
And I did. I licked his shoe with a relish, as though I were making
love to it. I dragged my tongue over the soft leather on top, and around the
sides. I strained to get at the heel, and Wade moved his foot just a bit to
allow me access. He lifted his foot slightly to let me clean the sole of the
shoe. After some time he pulled his foot away and I whined, still not
satisfied. I did not understand, but licking his shoes had not broken the spell
as it had before. I wanted more. I wanted to continue debasing myself before
this man. I wanted, craved the humiliation of being at his feet. Wade shifted
in his seat a bit and slid his other foot beneath my nose, placing the cleaned
shoe on the back of my head. I started in again.
I don't know how long he kept me at his shoes, but it seemed like hours.
At one point though, he leaned back and hooked the heel of his shoe behind my
ear and pried it free. I heard a 'shush' as his shoe popped off of his foot and
fell in front of my face, and instantly I was overwhelmed with the smell of his
sweaty feet and socks. He repeated the movements with the other foot, then
shoved the empty shoes beneath my nose as he rested both of his sweaty,
stockinged feet on my head.
"Get yer tongue in there an' clean the insides too, boy." He ordered and
I obeyed, burying my face in his shoe. I felt him cross his ankles and lean
back in his chair as I worked. I knew that he was watching me, and I think he
was enjoying it all; my humiliation, his newfound power over me, the attention
even. I licked at the stains of sweat that lined the insides of his shoes. I
made the insoles shine with my efforts, forcing my face as far into the shoes as
it would go, stretching my tongue to its limits. It tasted foul, and part of me
wanted to retch, but I could feel my cock getting harder and harder with every
lick.
All the while there were people passing through the lobby of the
building. I cringed every time that I heard the elevator open into the lobby,
or heard someone walking down the stairs or open the front door. Wade greeted
everyone, and most people felt the need to stand and chew the fat for a bit,
oblivious to the fact that I was beneath the doorman's desk licking his feet and
shoes. Wade would push down on my face and head as he spoke to the tenants,
pressing my head to the floor under his feet. He would worm his foot under my
chin and put increasing pressure on my throat, cutting off my air as though
daring me to struggle and be heard. At one point he started pressing his
stockinged feet against my lips, shoving me back into my hole until he managed
to push his toes into my mouth. He kept pushing until his foot was filling my
mouth and I was starting to gag. I began sucking on his foot as he spoke to
some woman about the weather.
Minutes did eventually turn into an hour...then two. I was getting
cramped and I smelled of Wade's feet. He was relentless in his torture,
ignoring my moans and whining by simply pressing me under his feet, applying
more and more weight until I fell silent. He had me sucking his socks clean for
some time when he finally ordered me to stop and remove them. His foot was deep
in my mouth, and he withdrew it until his toes rested on my teeth. I bit down,
receiving a sharp kick from his other foot as I grazed his toe, then bit down on
the material of the sock. I reared back, slowly pulling the sock from his foot,
only to be rewarded with the other foot being pushed into my mouth to repeat the
process. When I was done, Wade shoved one naked foot into my mouth so that I
could resume cleaning and rested the other on my face, holding me down again.
His bare feet still smelled, and as I washed his foot with my tongue I felt grit
and lint washing into my mouth from between his toes. There was nothing I could
do but swallow and continue as whatever was driving me still had not broken.
He left me for a time. He finally pulled his feet away, still much to
my despair, and rolled his chair back. I watched, growing excited as his feet
slipped into his loafers, whimpering as he stood. He heard me and paused, and I
glanced up to see him staring down at me in disgust.
"Please..." I begged, my mouth dry and my throat scratching. Wade
crouched down and slapped me.
"Pathetic little shit!" he cursed. My face was burning from pain and
humiliation as Wade scooped up his socks and wadded them into a ball before
stuffing them into my mouth. "Suck on that!" he commanded, and I did, happily.
Satisfied, Wade stood and walked out of his office, ordering me not to move. I
heard his heels as he clacked across the lobby, then opened and shut a door.
I lay there under his desk listening to the silence, sucking on his
dirty socks as I had been told. He had been gone for awhile when I realized
that this would be an opportunity to get away. I could just crawl out from
under the doorman's desk and run from his office up the stairs and into my
apartment. I tried to move. I tried to spit the socks from my mouth. I would
be free, if I could only move...
I heard a toilet flush and a few seconds later the slamming of the door
across the lobby again. The moment had passed and I had not moved save to swirl
the doorman's socks around in my mouth. I sighed, tears welling in my eyes
again as I heard Wade's footfalls crossing the tiled floor. In moments he
walked back into his office and plopped down in his leather chair once again.
The chair moaned under his weight as he leaned back, watching me. He took a sip
of water from a clear glass that he had brought back filled from the bathroom.
I stared longingly as he took another drink, watching as a drop dribbled
down the side and fell to his pants. I noticed then the bulge there between his
legs and hoped that it would stay there, hidden. But I stared, and whatever was
driving me to do the things I did also had me hoping that he would release it.
I wondered how his penis would taste as he thrust it in and out of my mouth. I
wanted it... I-
I yelped a muffled cry of pain as he jabbed the toe of his shoe into my
stomach. "What the fuck're you lookin' at, faggot?" he snarled. I heard him
chuckle as I moaned into my gag, rolling about as best as I could under the
desk. I felt his foot slide between my legs and press down on my groin. He
kept pressing until my eyes flew open and I was panting with lust. I was
burning up, sweating, moaning...
"God, yer sick, Bill. Fuckin' pervert!"
Wade rammed his heel into my groin, grinding it into my engorged cock
causing me to scream in pain. The socks wadded up and stuffed into my mouth
muffled my cries, but I was still loud enough that the vicious moment passed as
quickly as it had begun. I felt him remove his foot and watched through
watering eyes as he set his glass on the desk and pulled a cigarette from a pack
in his shirt pocket and lit up. He stared at me, inhaling then blowing smoke
into my face and eyes. He laughed as I winced, coughing around his socks. He
was really enjoying my pain and humiliation, enjoying the power he had over me.
He leaned back in his chair then, satisfied for a time as he stretched his legs
out, once more resting them casually on the back of my neck, forcing my head to
the filthy tiled floor under the desk.
He kept me that way for a time, he relaxing and savoring his cigarette.
He ordered me to continue sucking on his socks, and I was dutifully doing so
when we both heard the outer doors open. Someone was coming into the building.
I tensed as Wade leaned forward, rolling his chair closer to the desk. His
weight shifted as he edged closer, and his feet pressed down on me forcefully,
his heels digging into my skin. Wade lowered one hand beneath the desk, and
suddenly his cigarette was hovering about my head as the inner doors opened.
I cringed to hear a familiar scrabbling on the floor beyond the desk.
It was claws, scrambling for purchase on the slick tiles. I knew who it was,
but as though to pound the final nail into my coffin, I heard her voice and was
dead certain-
"Hi, Wade. How are you?" It was the Dog Lady.
"Hey, Peggy. Doin' good. How's by you?" Peggy! Wade knew her real
name, apparently, and now, so did I."
"Not bad," she cooed, "just taking my babies for their afternoon
stroll."
They were chatting; just making small talk as Wade held me prostrate
beneath the desk. His cigarette bobbed overhead as they talked, and I saw a
long trail of ash waver and finally fall onto the toecap of his shoe. I could
hear the dogs as well, on the far side of the desk. They seemed out of breath
and impatient, probably straining on their leashes. I could hear one of them
snuffling at the floor at the base of the desk, beyond the thin paneling behind
where I lay. Moose or Rocko I did not know, but he must have caught my scent
because he started whining and scratching at the wood and floor to get at me.
"Moose! Stop that!" I heard the Dog Lady as she made the Doberman yelp,
probably jerking back on his leash. "What's wrong with you?"
Wade removed his feet and stood. I heard the desk creak as he leaned
over to look at the dogs on the other side. "Sounds like he's in heat to me."
He chuckled, and I heard the woman laugh as well.
"You could be right." I heard her say. She made some noises that I
could only imagine was her kissing the dog. "Isn't that right, baby. You got
a' new bitch?"
Wade laughed. "Who's the lucky poodle?" There was a moment's silence,
and then I paled as I heard the Dog Lady about to tell my secret-
"Well, don't tell anyone, but it's-"
The woman was cut off as the front doors opened and someone walked in.
I heard the clack of high heels across the floor as a female voice said hello.
Wade and Peggy greeted the woman, and I heard the elevator rumble to life
followed by a mailbox door opening and slamming shut. A moment later the
elevator chimed, announcing its arrival.
"Going up?" I heard the new woman say as she opened the elevator door,
and I heard the Dog Lady say that she was-
"Yeah... I'll talk to you later Wade."
"Okay, Peggy."
I glanced up as the elevator rumbled away and saw Wade taking a final
drag from his cigarette. He tossed it to the floor, then crushed the spent butt
under the toe of his shoe right in front of my face. I whimpered, the simple
movement making my cock spring to life once again. I saw a look of disgust
cross his face as he spotted the bit of ash on his shoe. He sat down in his
chair and slid his foot under my face.
"Clean that up!" he ordered. I nodded, spitting his wadded up and soggy
socks onto the floor. I ran my tongue across the soft leather of his shoe,
almost gagging on the foul, gritty taste of the cigarette ash. I swallowed it
down though, but when I was finished he looked dissatisfied.
"That floor's filthy. Clean it up!" I looked down and saw that he was
right. Along with the regular dirt and grime there were heel marks scuffed into
the tiles and small mounds of dust gathered back in the shadowy corners under
the desk. There was also a cigarette butt, and a smear of ash right under my
face. "Start with that!" he commanded, and laughed as I bent low and lifted the
crumpled filter into my mouth with my tongue. At his prompting I swallowed it
down, almost choking to his amusement. I felt miserable, but Wade did not seem
to notice or care as he crossed his ankles over my back while I lowered my face
to the floor to lick it clean...