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TRAMPLE STORIES - TRAMPLING STORIES

  

  

  

TRAMPLE STORY - WORKPLACE FOOT DOMINATION

  

  

It was my first job when I got out of college, and although I wasn't really interested in doing sales it was understandable that I'd have to make some compromises at the entry level stage until I built up some credentials. Fem-art, Inc. was a small company and specialized in a select clientele, so my stern and early warning from the company president was to always be very respectful and polite. "The customer is always right is more than a simple slogan here, Timmy, it will be your way of life if you plan on keeping this job, do you understand?" I was shocked and more than a little aroused by this forceful and physically intimidating woman, and overlooked her converting my name from the respectable form of Timothy to Timmy as I stammered my reply: "su...sure, Ms. Powers, wha...whatever you say, whenever yu...you say it. And thank you again for this opportunity, Ms. Powers, I really am so grateful!"

What a total fool I am, I thought as I finally got myself to stop talking. Always a sucker (quite literally!) for assertive women, when I saw that all the other workers were attractive women I had resolved to present a respectable and dignified demeanor at this new job and here I was melting into a mass of masochistic meekness the first day at the slightest sign of stern superiority from the boss. I thought I saw a slight sparkle in her eyes as President Powers looked down at me as she replied "good attitude, make sure you keep it! As I've already explained, your job function is in more of a service than a sales capacity, and since you're the most recent hire your status is low man on the totem pole so I expect to see an eager and accommodating attitude in relation to the other employees as well, got it Timmy?" I stumbled over my words as I assured Ms. Powers I would do everything I could to be a part of her successful organization.

As it turned out, most of my work was over the phone collecting information and filling out forms, essentially little more than an order taker for the stylish feminist fashion artwork that the company marketed. The other employees had all been there for years, and I found out that my being hired was basically a token gesture to avoid the appearance of discrimination against men. Pretty soon I was doing the paperwork for the female reps each time they made a sale, and they went from asking me politely to ordering me around before I knew it: "Timmy, come get these notes and type up a contract, let's go!" and "yo' Timmy boy, this pen's not working, get me a new one, quick!"

Realizing it would look bad on my work history if I quit my first job, I resolved to make the best of the situation and try to enjoy it. My mistake was telling Debbie, a young and sexy blond co-worker, That I had studied Reflexology. Explaining it was the science of bodywork that stimulates pressure points on the soles of the feet for healing and relaxation utilizing the meridian lines that run through the body, similar to acupuncture, I described to Debbie (who was suffering from sinus problems) how I'd helped a former girlfriend get relief from sinus discomfort using my skills at Reflexology. She was eager to try it.

"C'mon Timmy, I'm gonna make some green tea for myself and read the paper while I take a break, you can massage my feet and do this reflex stuff while I relax" Debbie said as she turned and went into the break room without even waiting for a response from me. They were all calling me Timmy or Timmy boy even though I was old enough to be most of their fathers (I had left my civil service job after 20 years with a pension even though I was only forty, hoping to start a new career after college at age 45), and I'd long since given up on ever mustering up the courage to ask that they use my proper name of Timothy.

"Su...sure Debbie, glad to be of service" I stuttered as I followed her into the break room and did everything from boiling the water to slicing the lemon to preparing the tea bag, spoon and mug for the tea while she stood with her hands on her hips and supervised my work. When she saw I was doing everything the way she wanted it Debbie went over to the table and sat down as she kicked off her sandals. Looking over at Debbie as I finished the preparations, I tried to hide my lust as I stared at her perfect size six pedicured feet. Bringing her cup of tea over, I sat down on the chair across from her and smiled with a hand gesture for her to raise her foot and put it in my lap. Gazing at me with a look of disdain, Debbie shook her head as she said "No way, Timmy boy, how do you expect me to be comfortable with my foot up in the air? Smarten up fool, and get down there!"

I was shocked and embarrassed at first, but Debbie went back to casually reading her paper with her confident, superior attitude and I got so turned on feeling that she just assumed that I would get down on the floor. So, disregarding the fact that I was wearing my good suit pants I took off my jacket and got down on the floor at Debbie's feet. Putting her foot in my lap without even looking up from her paper, she did let out a soft sigh and smiled slightly as my trained fingers worked the pressure points beneath the balls of her toes that corresponded with her sinus reflex point. I was getting so aroused from the situation that my erection was standing straight up in my pants, and I was grateful that the way I was seated on the floor allowed me to raise my knees so that the loose material of my pants hid my raging boner.

After awhile she looked up from the paper and smiled at me. "You were right, Timmy boy, my sinuses feel better already and the massage is very relaxing, ahhh...." Debbie remarked, and I glowed with pride and satisfaction as my hard penis poked up even higher under the camouflage of my pants crotch. Then suddenly I froze in fear as Debbie said "Yep, this is really helping with my sinuses, count on us doing this every day, Timmy boy. In fact, there's only one thing that could make this better - go get my lotion from the top drawer of my desk, Timmy, and be quick about it!"

Oh no! There was no way I could stand up without blatantly broadcasting my aroused condition, but I knew I had to obey so I jumped up and made believe I was reaching into my pocket for something to hide my crotch bulge as I stammered I'd be right back and turned to race out the break room door - and ran right into President Powers!

 

 

 

I was so flustered and anxious from being in such an aroused condition massaging Debbie's feet, that when I ran right into the company president and knocked her over as I raced out the door to get Debbie's lotion, I panicked! "Oh, I'm so so sorry, Ms. Powers, please forgive me, I'm so clumsy!" I blurted out as I bent over and extended my arms for support to help Ms. President get back up.

Debbie had walked over as Ms. Powers brushed herself off from her fall, and then suddenly I realized that both Debbie and Ms. Powers were staring at the protruding crotch area of my pants. In waves of my sick and twisted submissive sensuality I felt my rock hard erection twitch and pulsate in response to my shameful situation before these two lovely ladies, and as I looked down and saw a wet area begin to develop from my pre-seminal discharges I was jarred back to reality by a painful smash across my face - Slap!

"How dare you?!" Ms Powers exclaimed as she grabbed me by the collar and dragged me away from the sobbing young Debbie and out of the break room. Refusing to listen to any of my attempted explanations, President Powers marched me into her room as all the other employees snickered and called out insulting comments like "Ewww, what a perv!" and "typical male, what a sleaze-bag!"

Leaving her office door open, Ms. Powers sat behind her desk and picked up her phone as she began in a very business-like manner to explain that not only was I fired, but that she would see to it that I would never work in the business community again in any capacity - after I got out of jail for my public lewdness! I begged and pleaded for another chance, insisting that I meant no harm and that I would do anything to make it up to her, anything!

As I tried to express my sincerity my pleas were cut off as Ms. Powers said "I see only one way out of this situation for you, Timmy, if you are truly willing to do anything to make amends, as you say..." I assured her I was but went speechless as she reached in her desk drawer and pulled out a contraption of clear plastic tubes and straps. Calling it a CB3000 male chastity device, she sternly explained that I would be required to wear it to prevent any future lewd displays, if Debbie agreed not to press criminal charges against me.

I remained in a state of shock as Ms. Powers called me over to her and told me to drop my pants and underwear, but when I did not move she simply shrugged and spoke into the phone: "Yes, get me the police, sex crimes unit please. Yes, I'll wait..." and I instinctively raced over to her and hurriedly dropped my trousers and briefs. My penis had shriveled from fear and Ms. Powers snickered as she hung up the phone and hefted my flaccid member in her palm briefly before encasing it in the chastity device and strapping it securely around my waist.

Ordering me to leave my pants and briefs pooled around my feet as she called Debbie in, my shame deepened as Debbie's surprise went to stifled amusement. She agreed with Ms. Powers that I would no longer be a danger to her or the other ladies in my restrained state, but both women agreed that my reprieve would be completely contingent on my "good behavior" in terms of respect and obedience to not only them but all of the other female workers. Pushing fears of being labeled a sex offender and having my career ruined out of my mind, I assured them I would comply with their desires in any way I could.

Debbie explained that she had been enjoying my foot massage, and remarked that now that she knew there wouldn't be a repeat of my lewd exhibitionism she would follow through on her plan to use me in that way every day. Ms. Powers agreed and went a step further, ordering that I provide foot service to each of the women in the office in terms of foot massages as well as any other ways I could service their feet for their benefit and pleasure. This was the beginning of my heaven in hell.

Ms. Powers was always the first in the office in the morning, except now I had to be waiting outside the building so that when she walked up to the front door I could respectfully open it for her. My functioning status had been reduced to secretary and all-purpose gofer for Ms. Powers as well as all of the other ladies, but it must have amused them to have me still dress in my business suits and ties as I was still required to. I could have almost enjoyed the situation except for the continual pushing of my boundaries, so to speak, to the next lower level of degrading and emasculating tasks I was ordered to perform.

"Yes, Mr. Masters, I am glad you're pleased with our redesign of your reception area, I'm sure it has increased your commerce in the feminist business community" Ms. Powers said in her phone conversation while I devotedly licked her feet from my position kneeling by her desk. It was a hot summer day and, as was her custom, Ms. President had speed-walked from her penthouse apartment over a mile away to get to the office that morning by eight o'clock. My job was to have her container of coffee ready and waiting with a blueberry muffin just as she liked it, and then to respectfully remove her walking shoes and socks so that I could tongue-bathe her feet with ice cubes in my mouth for her comfort and convenience.

Someday I'll be like that Mr. Masters, I thought as my teeth hurt from the cold ice cubes pressed against them while I concentrated on digging my soothingly cool tongue between Ms. Powers' toes to collect all of her toe jam. But for now, I knew I had to accept my current situation and hope that eventually my commitment and hard work ethic would improve my work situation. I couldn't help overhearing their phone conversation though, and felt a helpless sense of despair at what I heard.

"Yes, that's right, we did finally hire a new employee who is male, but I'm afraid he's been quite a disappointment...no, no, he's still employed here, but in a different capacity, so to speak. I'd like to explain further, Mr. Masters, but not over the phone. I really feel this is a conversation better held in person. Yes, I think you'll see everything more clearly if you can come up to my office, say for lunch today?...fine, I'll be expecting you then, goodbye."

Omigod! I had pretty much gotten over the shame of being ordered around by the women in the office and servicing their feet, but now it sounded like Ms. Powers would be blatantly broadcasting my subservience in front of one of the leading power brokers in the local business community. Lost in these thoughts, I was suddenly jarred back into reality as Ms. Powers smashed the ball of her foot into my forehead. "Hey! 'tween the toes, Timmy, let's go. Dig out all that sock lint and toe jam, hurry up, then get busy with the lotion. C'mon, I've got work to do before my lunch date!"

Between the filing and typing and errands for all the young ladies in the office the morning flew by, and before I knew it Ms. Powers called me in her office and informed me that Mr. Masters would be arriving any minute. "After you take his suit jacket and hang it up you can get us coffee, then you will make yourself available for any orders from either myself or him, do you understand, Timmy boy?". I assured her I did as I cringed inwardly with dread.

 

 

 

Realizing this would be my last chance to salvage whatever was left of my dignity (and my business career!), I asked for a moment of Ms. Power's time to talk privately before Mr. Masters arrived. She agreed and when we were alone in her office I stated my concerns as far as making a bad impression on Mr. Masters, if I was to be treated as poorly as I increasingly had been in the office by her and the other ladies. When I saw the fire grow in Ms. Power's eyes as her gaze turned to a glare I realized I'd made a terrible mistake.

"Let me make things perfectly clear, Timmy boy" she said in a controlled but strident voice. "The only reason you are still working here, the only reason you're not in jail, actually, is because I and the other young ladies here have taken pity on you. If you show anything but the most servile and obedient attitude in Mr. Master's presence when he arrives, the surveillance photos of your lewd behaviors will be turned over to the authorities. When you are finally released from jail years from now you will be branded as a sex offender for the rest of your miserable life. And trust me, it will be a miserable life!"

Apologizing profusely for my audacity, I hurried out of Ms. Power's office and rushed to tie the frilly apron they'd given me around my waist. Cursing my twisted sexual orientation, I winced as I felt my penis struggle unsuccessfully to grow within the cruel confines of the chastity device secured over my groin area while I performed my servile duties of preparing the coffee and pastries for Mr. Masters' visit.

With everything prepared I waited nervously for the respected business leader to arrive, hoping the other young women would leave me alone. Alas, it was not to be, as Debbie called out from where she sat at her desk for me to attend to her. Good gosh, what did she want from me now, sharpen her pencil, light her cigarette? I thought in exasperation as I raced over to see what "Ms. Debra" wanted, and my negative feelings must have shown on my face as I knelt down beside her.

"Wipe that annoyed expression off your face, Timmy the twerp," Debbie exclaimed as she saw my impatient attitude, then her beautiful eyes sparkled and a mischievous smile spread across her lips as she continued with "...on second thought, allow me to wipe it off your face for you - SLAP!" I fell backwards from the force of her blow, and as I lay in a sprawled position on the floor I raised my hand to rub my bruised cheek. Now my only expression was fear as Debbie stood up and walked over to stand above my head, and when I tried to say I was sorry she raised one of her sandaled feet and planted her sole down heavily across my neck - urk!

"Still feeling annoyed, you wimp?" Debbie asked me angrily as she increased the pressure from her sole that was crushing my adam's apple. I felt my face turning red from a combination of shame and strangulation, but I knew better than to use my hands to try and remove her foot from my throat even as I continued to choke and silently prayed for her mercy. Just then the receptionist in the outer lobby called in on the intercom to announce that Mr. Masters had arrived. Lifting her sandal sole off my neck, Debbie dragged the dirty sole across my face and ordered me to not wipe it off. "After all, it's dirt from the ground that I've walked on so it's precious to you, right?" Debbie remarked with a smirk before she waved me away.

Rushing into the kitchen area to prepare a tray with the coffee and pastries for Ms. Powers and Mr. Masters and bringing it in to them as they sat in her office, I winced as he remarked "so, this is your new male hire, eh?" with a chuckle as he looked at me with obvious disdain. "Yes," Ms. Powers replied, "he allows us to meet the equal opportunity employment male hiring requirement, but I must say he certainly is a poor representative of the male species - especially compared to a stud like you, Michael!" and then it dawned on me that their relationship was more than just professional. I lowered my head in shame as Mr. Masters asked aloud where I'd gotten the heel mark on my throat from, and why there was dirt collected on my cheek and nose, and Ms. Powers explained that she encouraged the young ladies on the sales force to demean and debase me as a way to help me learn proper respect. I felt hopeless and defeated as I saw him nod approvingly and move to embrace Ms. Powers. As they kissed she snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground, and I knew from the silent command Ms. Powers wanted me beneath her feet.

No sooner had I laid down on the floor beneath them then my face was ground beneath the twisting sole of Ms. Power's shoe. I couldn't help crying out in pain and shame as her heel dug into my eye socket while she pressed down and twisted her ankle like my face was a cigarette butt she was extinguishing under her shoe, and I heard them both chuckle in amusement at my agony. After a few more minutes of agony where I felt I would be permanently damaged at any moment their amorous embrace ended long enough for Ms. Powers to order me to go outside and flag down a cab for them. To add insult to injury, Mr. Masters said he'd left his wallet in his office so Ms. Powers had me give the driver a twenty from my wallet for their fare as they went out to lunch.

Things kept going from bad to worse. Debbie in particular seemed to have an ever-present grudge against me, seeming to never be able to forgive my initial "disrespect" of her when I first became aroused massaging her feet. Now, with my ever-present chastity restraint inflicting pain whenever I got aroused and my excitement when treated as a subservient obvious to all, it seemed the young women almost competed to find new ways to degrade and abuse me.

Also, not only did I serve as the office foot massager, but I was instructed to lie on my back before the entrance to the office to serve as their human doormat as a further way of "learning my place", and proper status in relation to them. None of them were fat so it was not a problem of handling their full weight as they each stood upon my chest and scraped their soles clean on my chest, but the psychological debasement was tremendous, and I had become so intimidated with threats of arrest and being branded a sex offender that I did everything they ordered without hesitation.

All my best suits had soon been ripped to shreds under their sharp heels as they used and abused my body beneath their feet while they trampled and trod all over me, and when Ms. Powers told me one day she had gotten me a present to wear to replace my ruined clothes I knew there had to be a catch. Sure enough, when I opened the box and saw the t-shirts all bearing the bright yellow words, WORKPLACE FOOT-WENCH, I knew there was no use in protesting my new office attire.

 

  

  

Trample Story - Workplace Foot Domination - part 2

  
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