Giantess Stories: Bosslady by Mr

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Bosslady

by Mr. Floor

Part I

Yesterday at work, I was sitting by the 'employees' lounge' enjoying a cup of

coffee with my fellow telemarketers. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, crap

job; whatever, it pays the bills. I heard my name called and looked up from my

lazy break to see Charlene, the assistant manager, leaning out of her office,

beckoning me with her hand.

'Later, dudes,' I said as I downed the last of my cup of Joe, wincing at the

bitterness of the shit they try to pass of as coffee to us lowly workers. I

walked into Charlene's office and as I did, I took a quick glance down at her

feet. Tan hose today, my favorite. She has her shoes on, though; 'oh well, her

ankles and legs are nice enough to look at when her feet are covered,' I

thought.

I sat down next to her at her request and stole another quick glance as she

crossed her legs. At this proximity, I could smell the nylons as well as hear

them as her legs slided on one another. I looked up and saw her looking directly

at my face; uh-oh, she saw me staring at her feet, no good. I must have blushed,

because she said: 'That's okay, I know you like looking at my feet.'

'R-really?' I was blushing furiously now, and my palms began to sweat.

'Yes, and I don't mind. In fact, I bet you'd like to touch them, wouldn't you?'

She let her shoe come partly off and dangle from her lovely toes. It hung

precariously for a second, and then she let it fall, exposing her beautiful

nyloned foot. The smell of hosiery was awfully intoxicating.

I took a chance, 'Yes, I'd love to touch your foot.' And I did, taking it in my

hand and stroking the sides gently. Her toes were only about a foot from my

face; oh how I wanted them touching my face!

She read my mind: 'I bet you want my foot on your face, huh?' She smiled and

wiggled her toes. I couldn't resist. As I let her bring her foot gently to my

face, I saw a peculiar gleam in her eye; maybe amused, maybe malicious, I don't

know. I didn't care.

I got down on my knees and let her lovely nyloned ped run up and down my face;

it felt absolutely insane as she traced by cheeks, nose, lips with her silky

toes. I enjoyed this for no longer than ten seconds before it happened; I don't

even know if I was aware of it or not. All I remember is Charlene's toes over my

eyes, a bright flash and then, well...

After the bright flash my eyes took a second to adjust to the dark; then my mind

took a second to adjust to my eyes. The smell of nylons was heavy in the air. I

was still on my knees, but Charlene's foot was no longer on my face. Before me

was a huge wheel, half as big as myself; I realized with amazement that it was

the wheel on the bottom of Charlene's office-chair. Then I saw her shoe, lying

on it's side where it had fallen, only now it was large enough to be a canoe. I

stared at the large article of footwear in awe for a second, not fully

comprehending the significance of the situation.

I looked up just as Charlene's foot came down on me, gently, sending me tumbling

backwards. There I was, beneath the lovely tan-nyloned foot of my boss Charlene,

with her toes just above my face and about the same size.

'What shall I do with you now?' She said.

Part II

'What should I do with you now?' she asked me as I lay on the ground beneath her

nylon-covered foot.

I was still to stunned to speak; my arms were pinned to the ground by the

massive ped, resting gently but firmly over my entire body. Only my head was

exposed above her lovely toes. She smiled down at me and asked again, 'What

should I do with you now that you're only 6 inches tall? I could make you do

anything I want, you know. For instance, I could keep you in a shoe box as a pet

and have you forever. I could make you into my personal foot-server, only taking

you out of your box when I wanted a nice foot massage after a long day in high

heels. Or when I just wanted you beneath my feet, kissing them.'

With that, she brought her foot up, covering my face with her toes so that I

could only see her face through the tan mesh of her pantyhose. She smiled and

said, 'Kiss my toes,' and I did, gladly. The smell of the nylon my growing sense

of realization at my situation combined to arouse me tremendously. Her toes were

about the same size as my head; the big toe (the one I was currently kissing)

was more than twice as big. She let me kiss it for a minute or two, then pulled

her foot down again below my chin. Her lovely foot again covered me whole, but

for my face. I decided to speak.

'What about them?' I asked, meaning our coworkers out in the main room. I jerked

my head (the only mobile part of my body) in the direction of the door to

indicate my meaning. 'What will they think when I don't come out of your

office?'

'You figure it out; if I can make you a tiny little toy by just putting my foot

on your face, don't you think I can keep it a secret too?' She smiled again and

wiggled her toes on my stomach, making me laugh. 'I've got everything under

control.'

She slowly caressed my body with her toes, much in the same way she had my face

a moment earlier. I was really loving this; screw work, this is awesome. I

enjoyed kissing her toes and ankles for a few more minutes before her phone

rang. Instinctively alarmed at the interruption, she covered me wholly with her

beautiful tootsie and answered it. Her attitude of alarm shifted to one of

delight during the course of the short conversation, the length of which I was

pinned gently to the carpet by her nylon-ped. She uncovered me and reached down

with her long-fingered hand, picking me up ever so gently and holding me in her

palm. She brought me to her face level, smiling gayly.

'We're going to have a visitor!' She said happily, 'my friend Michelle is coming

over from the other building for lunch, and she's dying to see you.'

'Great,' I said as she placed me back on the floor next to her shoe.

'Why don't you hide in my shoe until she gets here,' she said, softly marshaling

me toward the opening with her toes, 'it'll be fun to surprise her.' I offered

no resistance, just happy to have her giant foot touching my body again. I sat

inside the canoe-shoe and kissed Charlene's foot and waited for Michelle.

Part III

I felt like I was sitting in a ride at Disney World; Charlene's high-heeled pump

actually seemed larger than any of those rides to me then. I sat with my feet in

the toe section; I was about half as long as the shoe. Resting here in the

leathery smell, underneath Charlene's desk chair, I thought:

"Well, this has been my fantasy for quite some time now; am I happy about it?"

In answer to my internal question, I looked up at the underside of Charlene's

thigh as she stared at her computer screen, apparantly working. She seemed to

have forgotten about me for a moment, so I called to her loudly, "Hey! Remember

me? Your foot-worshiper?"

She looked down without moving her head, smiled and uncrossed her legs. Her huge

and sexy foot was lowered over the shoe, covering the opening entirely, sealing

me in. Her feet smelled warm, felt soft and warm, and I answered myself, "Yes,

this is quite alright by me!" Then I kissed her sole.

She uncovered me partially, revealing my head and arms, stroking me gently about

the chest. Her toes were magnificent, and I couldn't resist the urge to touch

them constantly. I kissed each toe while I rubbed her foot with my hands and

arms. A knock at the door.

"OK," she said, smiling gleefully, "lay down in my shoe, this will be great!"

I did as she commanded, lying prostrate, my head only coming about half way to

the heel of the shoe. She turned the shoe about with her titanic foot and

whispered, "Listen, I'm not going to hurt you, I just want this to be a surprise

for Michelle." And with that she inserted her beautiful foot wholly into the

shoe, covering my entire body in exquisite nylon pleasure. She made sure not to

put her foot in too tight. I felt my world lift into the air: she must be

crossing her legs, I thought.

I heard voices:

"Come in!"

"Hi Charlene. What is it you want to show me, my lunch break is almost over."

"Well, remember that young man who works in my department, who you said was

staring at your feet that one day?"

"Yeah. I didn't see him when I walked in here, though. Did you fire him?"

"Hardly. I...well, look for yourself."

My world again lurched violently, and I tumbled into the light. Charlene had let

her shoe dangle from her toes - as she had earlier, when I was still normal size

- and I was precariously seated in the heel. I looked up at my new onlooker.

Michelle had been right that day; I had been looking at her feet, for they are

absolutely exquisite. Normally she wears pumps, but occasionally she would

tantalize me by wearing a strappy sandal. She was as tantalizing as ever today.

Michelle was seated across from Charlene, wearing a black mini-skirt dress

thing, with black sheer pantyhose and those awesome sandals I love so much. She

nearly shrieked with joy when she saw my tiny form. Charlene raised her foot to

the couch and let her shoe - and me - fall on to it.

Michelle was obviously excited about this new development:

"Charlene, you've got to let me borrow him! Oh my god, this is insane!"

She rested her sandalled foot to rest on the sofa, not 10 ft from where I lay,

looking up at the two goddesses. Her feet smelled of nylon and leather. "Sure,"

Charlene said, "borrow away."

With that, Michelle moved her foot toward me, until it was nearly upon me. "Hi

there, little one," she said, "would you like to come to my desk for a little

while?"

"Yes," I said plainly, looking achingly at her toes, wanting to caress and kiss

them. She saw my want and said:

"Go ahead, enjoy yourself." And I did, kissing and smelling her feet, just

visible through the dark-colored hose she wore. I was in heaven. After a few

moments of this, Michelle removed her foot from my presence, much to my chagrin.

"I have to get back to my desk, I'll bring him back to you before 5, OK?"

Charlene smiled, "Sure." She then looked down at me. "Little guy," she said,

"I'll see you soon." And with that she put her foot on top of me again,

commanding me to kiss her goodbye. I kissed the ball of her foot, worked my way

to the heel and ankle, and then finished on her toes.

Michelle gently picked my up and placed me in her house-sized purse. Before she

zipped me up, she looked in and winked, "You're gonna love serving my feet,

little slave."

Part IV

I sat in the rumpled leathery darkness that was Michelle's purse, waiting

anxiously for whatever would happen next. It had been a pretty hectic morning

already; my manager Charlene had lured me into her office, and had then shrunken

me somehow with her foot. Her lovely, lovely feet. Not that I minded being

minimized to six inches tall, far from it. This had been my fantasy for a long

while, and I was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted (hell, for all I

knew, I could be dreaming during my lunch break, head down on a table, drool

puddle forming next to my pleasantly smiling mouth).

Anyway, here I was, in the purse of Charlene's friend, Michelle. I had ogled her

(and her feet) often during my many trips to and from her department in the

other building. She had an exquisite set of legs on her, and she liked to show

them off. The last thing I remember seeing before she put me into her purse was

her long, black hose-covered legs, crossed at the knee, dangling seemingly 50

feet below me. Way down there, I could see her dainty feet, clad in a pair of

black strappy sandals, ever tantalizing.

The excitement was getting to me, and I became more anxious. The external

movement came to an abrupt halt, then, and the baggy room I was in experienced a

harsh jar, then all was still and quiet. I waited with butterflies in my gut for

something to happen; perfectly still in the darkness.

The unmistakable (yet uncommonly loud) noise of a zipper in action drew my

attention upward, where a large strip of light had begun to form. The zipper was

drawn halfway open, and a huge hand was inserted, widening the opening. A

massive face could be seen looming behind, grinning. It was Michelle, her

beaming expression framed by curly blond locks.

"Hi there little one," she whispered, "how was the trip?"

"Fine," I said loudly, in hopes that she'd hear me. I smiled back up at her, but

I don't think she saw me. She nodded her reply to my answer, and whispered

again.

"I can't take you out right now, too many people around my cubicle. If you're

discreet, though," she said, grinning wider, "I'll let you play with my toes

from inside the purse. Would you like that?"

Would I ever! I thought. "Would I ever!" I said.

She smiled again and her face retreated out of my vision, and I was left staring

out of the purse at the bottom of her desk. Suddenly a large leg swung into my

field of sight, as she crossed her legs, right over left. Her impossibly large

sandaled right foot hung directly over the opening to the purse. She nudged her

toes into the opening, filling the purse with the scent of her magnificent

nylon/leather covered foot. I sprang into action, kissing and massaging those

lovely toes, pressing my face inbetween them, inhaling the nylon smell. I

enjoyed a few seconds, when the foot retreated slightly. Michelle's face met my

glance upward.

"Try unbuckling my sandal, little guy. Then you can really please my tired

feet." She said this smiling, stressing the words 'tired feet.'

Then she used her toes to force the purse to open wider, placing her entire foot

onto the pile of cosmetics, etc., on which I sat. I caressed the side of her

foot, smelling and kissing the ankle and lower calf, as I reached for the buckle

just above her ankle. It was half as big as my head, and wouldn't budge for my

puny attempts. Michelle noticed my problem, and inserted her massive hand to

"help me get it started," which meant unbuckling it for me. I quickly removed

the strap and began to unwind it from her foot, crawling over and under her foot

in the process. She helped me along with this too, raising her foot slightly to

allow me to slide under. She then brought her exquisite ped down on me, softly

pinning me under it, as Charlene had done not one hour earlier.

I acquiesed to the enormous foot, allowing myself to enjoy every moment of

pleasure beneath her toes. I kissed the underside of her foot, from the ball to

the toes. I must have drifted off to sleep in my state of immense bliss...

Ten minutes later, Michelle was staring blankly at her monitor, smiling faintly

as she felt the still body of the tiny telemarketer under her foot. To the

passer by, she looked rather odd with that dreamy look on her face as her bare,

nyloned foot rested in her purse beneath her desk. One passer by stopped; it was

Michelle's supervisor, Maria.

"Michelle, are you busy on those invoices?" asked Maria in a rather harsh tone

of voice, her naturally tanned forehead creased down the center. Maria's Latina

temper was well-known around the office, and Michelle snapped out of her reverie

instantly.

"Y-yes, Ms. Lopez; I've just got to..." she fumbled around with the papers on

her desk, while she tried to surreptitiously, and in one stroke, remove her foot

from her purse, and push the purse farther under her desk, out of Maria's sight.

"What are you doing with your purse, Michelle?" Michelle's heart sank; mine was

fine, I was still in dreamland, despite my foot-blanket having been removed.

"Michelle, what's in your purse there?" Maria bent down to reach for the purse.

"Nothing, Ms. Lopez!" Michelle reacted too quickly and loudly, lunging for the

still open purse. Maria noticed the hint of panic, and reached faster, beating

Michelle to the punch,..er, purse.

My dreams disintegrated as my surroundings shook violently. I forgot them

instantly, as I do always. I opened my eyes, and my dreams reappeared. Maria

Lopez, one of the top 3 'hotties' in the company (not to mention one of the 3

most powerful) was staring down at me from a quite loftly vantage. A look of

shock mixed with keen interest covered her face; it became a beautiful smile. I

returned it, hoping for the best to come out of this change in fortune.

"Michelle, perhaps you chould come into my office." said Maria as she absently

ran one red pump-covered foot up the back of the other leg. Her dark tan hose

rubbed together, producing that magical sound. "And bring your 'purse' with

you."

Part V

Maria Lopez sat at her power-executive desk with her tan, hosed legs crossed,

right over left. Her suspended foot swung idly back and forth. Across the desk

from her (and in a much less comfortable chair) was Michelle. Michelle was

noticeably nervous about her present situation; her hands were clenched together

in her lap, and one of her feet was bouncing rapidly, poised on the ball - that

almost unconscious rythm of the legs. Her legs.

I had had plenty of viewing experience with those legs, ogling them whenever I

had the chance; her feet were divine.. Today I had had a fantastic opportunity

to ogle them.

Just 5 minutes ago I was lying blissfully beneath her silky foot, inhaling the

wondrous scent of her black nylons. My face had been resting comfortably between

her big and second toes, pressed gently into the nylon. Every so often she would

wriggle her toes ever so gently, just to see if I was still awake.

Now, though, I was on a desk - Maria Lopez' desk. Maria studied me as she spoke

to Michelle, her dark eyes never once leaving my body. Her mouth was curled up

at the corners in the faintest of smiles.

"Now Michelle," she was saying, "I can't have you playing with tiny men while

you should be working. It's just not good for business."

"I know Ms. Lopez," Michelle's voice quivered with fear, "but I - well, -" what

could she say? How do you explain a 6 inch man in your purse, caressing your

feet? She trailed off into mumbles.

"Michelle, where did you get such an," her smile became more pronounced as she

said, "oddity?"

It was obvious that Michelle was nervous about revealing her source. She didn't

want to implicate her friend Charlene in any kind of wierd goings-on; Charlene

was still on her way up the corporate ladder, and Michelle was at the bottom,

hoping for a hand from her rising friend. Maria, however, was on top.

"Well," stammered Michelle.

"Never mind that right now," said Maria, her eyes remaining glued on me, "we'll

work that out later. What I want to know is: what were you doing with him?"

"Well, you know," Michelle's tone became more relaxed as she thought of her time

with me, her temporary footslave, "he was, you know, pleasing my feet."

Maria's eyes widened slightly, remaining intently watching me. I heard that

mystical sound again as Maria uncrossed and recrossed her legs.

"Pleasing your feet, huh?" she said. "What exactly does that entail?"

"Well, you know, the usual"

"No Michelle, I don't know what 'the usual' is." Her tone was decidedly

perturbed; Michelle quailed.

"If I may elaborate," said I, loudly, to be sure Maria Lopez heard me. "I was

caressing, massaging, smelling and kissing Michelle's feet. You know," I smiled

at the beautiful Puerto Rican power-executive, "the usual."

She smiled back at me and said to Michelle, "Your little friend here is quite

abrupt for one in such a precarious position." To me she said, "Don't you know

manners, little one?"

My heart began racing, and I stammered, "I-I-I'm sorry, Ms. Lopez, I was just

trying -"

"Relax, little one," she said, "I'm not that easily offended. What I was really

after here was a demonstration, if that's OK with you Michelle?"

Michelle looked puzzled at this, but had no intention of disobeying her

superior. "Sure," she said, "where?"

"Right where he is on the desk will be fine."

My excitement grew to fever pitch as I watched Michelle adjust herself in her

chair, preparing to put her feet on the desk. She reclined and crossed her feet

around 10 feet from me (OK, around 14 inches). She had put her sandals back on,

and her feet looked absolutely exquisite in them. I approached her massive,

lovely peds with a hard-on the size of the Indian subcontinent. The black nylons

made her feet almost shine. She wiggled her left foot - the one on top - and

said, "Go ahead, little guy; show Ms. Lopez how good you are at pleasing feet."

I needed no instructions from Michelle this time; I immediately went for the

buckle on her sandals, determined to take them off by myself. I heard a chuckle

from the direction of Ms. Lopez as I struggled again with the implement. I

looked at Michelle and she leaned over and got it started for me; then she

gently patted my head and laughed, "He needs help because he's so small."

"Thanks for the wisdom, Michelle," said Maria sarcastically, "I can see that."

Once the buckle was undone, I again unwound the straps and the sandal fell off

with a bang! onto the desk. Michelle smiled at me and flexed her ankle as I

moved to her arch. I pressed my face directly into the underside of her foot and

inhaled deeply. Life is good! Kissing rapidly, I began rubbing her exquisite

arch with my body; her silky foot was my world. I moved around to the instep and

straddled her ankle. Standing up, I began to stroke the tops of her toes, giving

each one special treatment. I began with the pinky toe, kissing it and rubbing

my face on it. By the time I got to the big toe my universe was on fire; her

feet were everything to me.

"I've seen enough," said Maria Lopez abruptly, "you can go now, Michelle."

"But," Michelle hesitated, "but Ms. Lopez, what about ... him?"

I peeked around Michelle's foot and saw that foreboding, exciting smile reappear

on Maria's face. "He'll be staying here," she said.

"But-"

"No 'buts' Michelle; you may go back to your desk now."

Unfortunately for me, that meant that Michelle's heavenly feet were to leave my

presence now; I longingly watched her strap her sandals back on. She looked at

me once and left in a hurry. The door slammed and I turned back to Maria. I was

greeted with the sight of her legs, crossed on the table as were Michelle's

moments before. Her red pumps were still on, but the right one (on top) was

ajar, hanging seductively.

"Would you like me to-" I began, but was harshly cut off.

"Speak only when spoken to," she said, "when I want you to serve my feet I will

tell you. You are my slave now, and you are going to do exactly as I tell

you." Again my Indian subcontinent became engorged. "Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good," she adjusted her right foot, flexing the toes and easily throwing off

the red pump; it hit the table and tumbled away. "For being so obedient, you may

kiss my foot."

God, what a woman! Her immense, tan-hosed foot loomed large in my vision as I

neared. The smell of hose was everywhere, mixed with leather and sweat. I

watched as her toes wiggled beneath the nylons; she separated her big and second

toes, stretching her beautiful foot, as if it were weary with walking.

"I hope you know how to massage well, slave, because my feet have been hurting

today," she said as I buried my face between her toes.

Part VI

Maria's foot was still warm from being inside her shoe; she had lowered her toes

slightly to allow me to reach them, owing to the fact that I was about 2 feet

shorter than her lovely peds. I obediently kissed the underside of her heavenly

big toe, moving to the second and burying my face in between. The intense warmth

enveloped my entire head in the scent of hosiery and sweat; I would gladly

surrender myself to that smell forever. Maria Lopez was a Goddess to me then; I

was her willing footslave, my only goal to please her tired peds.

"That's enough," she said after only a moment of ecstacy, "stop kissing my foot

now."

I was caught off-guard by this, and forgot her admonishment of a moment ago,

when she said only to speak when required to. "Why?" I said, foolishly

challenging her authority.

She quickly sat upright in her office chair, removing her exquisite feet from

the desk in the process. Her massive red pump was still on the table, though,

about 15 feet to my left as I stared in awe at the freshly enraged Goddess. She

leaned in close with her face as she chided me for my insolence.

"Tiny slaves mustn't speak unless asked to," she said, her face mere feet from

me; her breath was hot and damp as it washed my whole body. "Tiny slaves must

only worship, nothing more, understand?"

I remained silent, afraid to speak.

"You may answer," she said.

I fell to my knees. "Yes, ma'am; I want nothing more in this life than to follow

your every command; serving your feet is my only desire, Ms. Lopez." I had never

spoken truer in my tiny life.

"Call me Maria," she said, softening slightly, "Goddess Maria." she

smiled that tantalizing, dark smile again.

"Yes, Goddess Maria," I said, relieved, "as you command."

"Good," she said, reaching for her discarded pump. She held it up before me, a

veritable foot-canoe from my miniscule perspective. She looked from the pump to

me, and said, "This is going to be your new bed, slave. How does that make you

feel?"

"Wonderful, Goddess," I said, "I desire nothing more."

"Get in and try it out," she said, placing it on the desk next to me. I climbed

in at the toe, because the heel was too high for me; I had never been any good

at pull-ups. I sat down as I had done before in Charlene's shoe, with my feet in

the toe section, like I was in a roller coaster. "Hold on," she said as she

lifted the shoe from the desk. I didn't need to be told; I had no intention of

falling 40 feet to the floor and missing out on some prime foot worship by

dying. No, life was better right at that moment than it had ever been; I was the

footslave to a Goddess.

She lowered the shoe to the ground and placed it beneath her desk. My eyes began

to adjust to the relative darkness of my new surroundings and I looked around.

Three blank walls of solid varnished oak, and on the fourth side, the legs of my

Goddess, covered in silky tan nylons. She pushed her chair back a bit so that

she could bend down and see me.

"I have some important work to do now, slave," she said, "so while I'm busy, you

will shine my shoes; is that clear?"

"As crystal, Goddess Maria."

"Good," she said as she pushed her chair back in, removing her other shoe in the

process. She casually shoved the shoe in my direction with her foot, almost

smashing me with it in the process. I was still in her other shoe, wondering how

I was to shine such massive housings, when several queen-sized tissues were

haphazardly tossed beneath the desk.

"Make them sparkle, slave, and I'll let you massage my toes."

I didn't bother answering; she hadn't asked a question and I had learned from my

foolish mistakes. I leapt from my bed and grabbed the edge of one of the

tissues; tearing off a towel-sized portion, I got right to work, shining the red

leather. While my hands worked the shoe, my eyes remained glued to Maria's feet.

She was distractedly rubbing her right foot slowly up and down the top of the

left; that sound again! I found it hard to concentrate on my task as I listened

to nylon-on-nylon and watched her incredible feet as they writhed gently about.

Another sound, that of a computer keyboard being furiously typed upon, broke my

reverie, and I realized that I had been standing and staring, and not doing my

work. I gave the tissue paper some elbow grease and tried by best to make

Maria's shoes shine for her. I worked hard for about 10 minutes and stopped,

panting for air. I stepped back to survey my work, only to realize that I had

only covered about half of one shoe. This is going to be a real pain in the ass,

I thought disgruntledly. A quick glance at my Goddess' toes was enough to give

me incentive to continue, though. Just a few more minutes and I'll be allowed to

massage those divine digits. I leaned in close to the shoe and inhaled deeply,

just to get the scent of Maria's feet in my nose again, and continued polishing

with my tissue.

Three quarters of an hour later, I was sweating profusely beneath the oaken

desk; I sat down on the toe of Maria's left shoe, weary with toil. The pumps

were shining, though; shining like the sun. I caught my breath for a second and

then decided to get Maria's attention, to show her how good a job I had done. I

thought: If I yell she might get mad; she doesn't like me speaking unless she

asks me to. So, I'll just get her attention my tapping her on the (yesterday I

would have said shoulder) instep. Tingling with anticipation, I turned to face

my new Goddess; her legs were crossed, and her bare right foot hung mere feet

above my upturned head, swaying gradually. I wouldn't be able to reach that one

even if I jumped, I thought, so I made my way to her left foot. Standing next to

that fantastic foot, I paused. This is truly my lifelong fantasy come true: I am

the slave to a Goddess; I am a footslave! I tapped gently on her glorious

instep, 3 times.

Without moving, she said, "what is it, slave? Those shoes had better blind me."

She uncrossed her legs and moved her chair back, peering beneath the desk to

inspect my work.

"Well," she said, with that famous dark smile of hers; it had taken me less than

2 hours to recognize that smile. "Good job slave; those pumps are looking good,

now. As your reward you may massage my toes."

She brought her left foot up close to me, placing her nyloned toes against my

chest and knocking me back. I fell on my ass and her foot pinned me gently to

the floor. I was covered from the waist down with silky ecstacy. I reached down

and began to stroke her awesome toes, trying my best to give her a real massage,

and not some weak 6" imitation. She brought her foot farther up my body and

covered me from my upper chest down. Her grandiose toes were just beneath my

face, and the smell overpowered all other thoughts. With the better angle I was

able to better massage those toes. They were so close to my face, I decided to

give one of them a little kiss while I massaged. I leaned my head down to

smooch.

"Did I say you could kiss my feet?" My heart froze as I heard her tone of voice,

and I froze in mid pucker. Shit, I had fucked up now. "Slave," she went on, "you

are here for one reason: to obey my every word, to the letter. Do I make

myself clear?"

"Yes Goddess Maria," I said meekly, "I am sorry for disobeying you. I only

wanted to please your divine feet with my humble face."

Again that smile. She lifted her foot off of me and bent down slightly to speak.

"OK slave, since you did such a good job on the shoes and since you seem to be a

good footslave, I will allow you to kiss my feet. Have fun," she said as she

lifted her foot in the air above my head and brought it slowly down on me,

smothering me in a silken dream. I kissed ravenously the underside of my

Goddess' foot, writhing my body against it.

She gently brushed my face with her toes, side to side, giving me quite a good

jostle. She laughed when she saw just how helpless I was, knocked around by the

slightest movement of her toes. She brought her foot to rest with my body

completely covered. All was the Divine Nylon Foot of my Goddess as I lay there,

kissing her toes. I saw her face between her toes, through the tan nylon mesh of

her pantyhose; she was smiling, as usual. Needless to say, I was smiling too.

Giantess Stories: Bosslady by Mr

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