Continued from part 1 here: http://www..com/s/captured-by-the-corporation-ch-01
As the second flip-flop cleared my toes and they self-consciously curled, I heard a murmur run through the crowd. My cheeks felt hot, and I knew I was blushing, though I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t embarassed – having my bare feet exposed was nothing new to me. But in front of this many people, all of whom clearly had a foot fetish? It was different. It was new. It was….fun. I took another look at the TV and saw everybody’s eyes focused on the front of the room, some of them occasionally turning to the person next to them to make a comment, though I couldn’t quite hear any of them. I did my best to relax my nervous toes as the man’s powerpoint presentation began.
The first slide came up, consisting of a couple images of my feet and a video I’d made, along with some text. The man’s voice continued.
“As you can see, our subject has been active for quite some time, and unlike some of our other hires, he’s quite passionate about what he does. He may be only 23 years old, but he’s been showing these size 8 and a half feet online for years now.” I felt myself squirm a little in my seat. Just how much did they know about me?
“He, in his own words, is “obsessed” with caring for these beauties, and takes great pride in how soft and smooth they are. I spent a few moments with them myself, and let me tell you, you’re gonna love the way they feel.” A chuckle ran through the crowd, and I felt myself tense up in shock. What did he mean; what did he do to them? But those thoughts quickly passed, as again I found myself intrigued by the idea.
“He also has described himself as very submissive in regards to his feet. I think this will make him particularly well-suited to our business, but let’s see for ourselves, shall we?” Out of the corner of my eye, on the screen, I saw him step to the side, leaving my feet the focus of attention.
“Curl those little toes for us.” I froze up for a moment, but quickly gave in. He was right, after all. Something inside me just couldn’t resist. My toes slowly moved forward, curling, my soles wrinkling up in front of the watching crowd. Again I heard a few people speaking to the people near them, but I couldn’t make it out.
“Very good! Now spread them, please.” I didn’t hesitate this time, I just fanned my toes out as far as they could go, flexing, fully exposing my smooth soles to the audience.
He moved back to his podium, ready to continue. “Now, if you please, wiggle them for a while. Help me keep our audience entertained.” I began to move them again, just slowly alternating between curling and flexing them, my soles scrunching and smoothing rhythmically.
I heard a click as he moved to the next slide. “Let’s see what activities we can look forward to with our new subject. The first: tickling.” I started to pay a little more attention, but continued moving my toes for the crowd. “Our subject has repeatedly expressed a major interest in being tickled, especially on his bare feet. Although he has limited experience with foot tickling, we can confirm that they are quite sensitive and should be ticklish indeed. A significant amount of time will be dedicated to tickling his soles and toes under every possible condition – with or without varying types of bondage….” More text appeared on the slide, but I didn’t bother reading it. “All intensities – soft, gentle, playful, erotic, intense, torturous….” I started to move my toes a bit faster for my audience. “And with all types of tools. We should Anadolu Yakası Escort be able to use our whole arsenal on this one!”
Next slide. “Next up, foot worship. Despite his submissiveness, our subject is quite curious about all forms of worship. We’re going to teach him all about it. Each of his toes will be lovingly sucked, every inch of his soles will be licked, kissed….his feet will be rubbed, fondled and caressed. I hope you’re all willing to show them the attention, that in my opinion, they richly deserve.” I continued to show off to the crowd, getting more into it now. I spread my toes as far as I could, and began to gently wiggle them as they remained splayed out, proudly displaying their flexibility.
“Be careful around this one, you can see how much he loves to tease. That reminds me, he also quite likes to be teased; it goes right along with that submissive streak of his. Feel free to pay him back if he teases too much – mock him about his predicament, his ticklishness, the size of his feet, their tenderness….whatever you think will get a rise out of him!” I began to wave my feet around a bit in addition to the toe-wiggling, determined to tease even more after that little comment.
“And last but not least, he’s willing to pleasure us with his feet. He seems quite intrigued by the idea of giving a footjob, and is also willing to – pardon my language here – have his feet “fucked” by those of you that are a bit more aggressive.” I took that as a cue, and put my feet side by side, close as I could, and began to make stroking motions, mimicking a footjob. I glanced at the TV again and noticed a few men shifting in their seats, and smiled to myself, knowing that a good number of them were imagining themselves between my tender soles right now.
The man paused, as if to let me finish, and I let my feet slowly come to a stop. “We’ve got a surprise for you, if our subject is willing to cooperate.” As he spoke, a microphone lowered from the ceiling, a few inches from my face. “I’m not sure he’s willing to speak, but in case he is, we’ve got time for a short Q&A session. All who would like to know him a little better, please form a line.” A small line began to form, leading up to the podium, though I couldn’t count how many. The first man stepped up to the mic, glancing at my soles as he did.
He spoke with a quiet voice. “Uh, um…where on your feet are you most ticklish?” I paused a moment, feeling a bit shy. I slowly wiggled my toes at the man, giving him something to look at as I worked up the courage to speak myself. “I – I don’t know, actually. I mean, they’re really sensitive all over….” He responded with a happy “Thank you!” and walked off.
The next voice was a woman’s. “Your soles look so soft….I was wondering, do you get pedicures?” I smiled to myself as I answered. “No, actually…never had one in my life! I just take care of them myself.” She thanked me as well, and left the stage. Time slowed down for a second as reality hit me – was I really answering questions about my feet in front of a group of total strangers? And why was I doing it so readily? Some part of me was definitely ready to embrace my new life…I just didn’t realize how big that part was until right about now.
Another man was next. My toes stopped again, content to just let the crowd stare at my relaxed feet for a bit. “Do your feet get played with very much?” I didn’t take long to answer. “No, they never do…” I tried not to sound too disappointed, but I think it was obvious. The man’s voice quickly rang out Bostancı Escort again. “So….are you looking forward to it?” I wasn’t sure how to answer. After all, I was looking forward to it, but the thought of admitting it to so many people…. “Uh…..I dunno. It’ll be, um, interesting, I guess.” I wasn’t sure how eager I sounded, but the man seemed satisfied as I glanced at the monitor and watched him walk off.
The original man, the presenter stepped in front of the podium again. “I’m sorry, but time seems to have passed us by quickly today! I’m going to have to cut these questions short to make time for one last surprise. Everybody back to your seats, please.” The remaining members in line shuffled back to their chairs. “Now that you’re seated, go ahead and feel under your chair.” They all reached down for a moment. “Did anybody find a red chip?” Someone in the crowd stood up, waving their hand in the air. “Come on up to the stage, please!” The person, a man, slowly made his way to the front of the room. “Congratulations! You know what that chip means, right?” There was a bit of encouraging applause from the crowd. I saw the presenter turn towards my feet, as if he was addressing me now. “Five minutes with our new subject’s feet, right now!” I felt my soles twitch in anticipation. The “winner” pulled a chair from the side of the stage and positioned it in front of my feet. I stopped watching the monitor – watching was just too much anticipation to bear…but I think part of me also just wanted to be totally surprised.
I heard the chair creak as the man took a seat. I tried not to move my feet too much, attempting to face whatever came next as bravely as I could. After what felt like forever, I felt a hot, rhythmic wind on my toes. His breath. I wiggled them again, then gave into my instincts. I pointed my toes forward, reaching out to him, and I felt his hands firmly grip the top of my feet. He tilted them back a little and I felt him lean in slightly, seeming to examine my soles closely. I flexed my toes back as well, submitting my tender soles to his scrutinization. I kept them as still as I could, letting his eyes wander over them, until I felt him let go of my feet.
I waited, and waited, until finally I felt his hands again. His fingers cupping the sole of my right foot, right at the heel. Not the fingertips, but the long flat parts, gently moving. I gently pushed my foot forward, pressing my soft, round heel against his fingers, and felt them move a little faster. Still just a gentle rubbing – it was actually one of the most relaxing things I’d felt in a long, long time. They slowly moved up to my arch, and I curled my toes in response. At the same time I felt his other hand on my left foot, making similar motions. They moved further up my feet and I uncurled my toes as they approached. A pause. Then he begin to knead each of my big toes with his thumbs. I felt myself sink into my seat, and my toes involuntarily spread out with pleasure, as he moved on to the next toe on each foot. Before I knew it, his thumbs were on my smallest toes, then they stopped.
A second later, and I felt something on my big toes again. This time, it was a single fingertip on each one. I gently wiggled them against his fingers, feeling a tingling sensation even as they just rested there. Then they moved, slowly, slowly, downwards, to the balls of my feet. Too slow to really tickle, but I knew he was just starting. As soon as they cleared the balls, they sped up, moving down my arches and to my heels in a swift motion. My feet tried to Erenköy Escort pull back a little, but it was no use. His fingers were moving back upwards, then gently sweeping under my toes. I can barely even describe the feeling. I don’t think I’d ever had my feet touched quite like that. I felt a smile forming on my face and my body squirming as his fingertips traced zig-zags back down. They traced circles on my heels as I broke out into a giggle. I heard his voice, and it only made me giggle more: “What’s the matter, huh? If you’re so ticklish maybe you shouldn’t be showing off!” My feet twisted and tried to wiggle around. “Bet you wish they weren’t so soft now!” I laughed again, and I was sure he heard it this time. He seemed to be focusing on my heels exclusively now, a couple fingers wiggling on each one. I couldn’t blame him; I’d never realized how incredibly sensitive they were. Then, suddenly, as I broke into another round of helpless giggling, the fingers stopped….
I felt his breath on my toes again, getting closer and closer, then something new – a hot, wet feeling enveloping my big toe. It took me a few seconds to realize he was sucking it, all I knew was that it felt amazing. His tongue came to rest against the bottom of my toe –
“And that’s five minutes!” The presenter again. I could feel the vibrations in the man’s lips as he sighed in disappointment, the rest of the crowd groaning as well. I let my toe linger against his lips as long as I could as they slowly pulled away and he walked back to his seat. “Sorry, everyone, but it’s getting late. As excited as we all are, it’s time to go home. But at least we’ve got tomorrow to look forward to! Everybody have a good night!” Everybody slowly got up and walked to the exits, some sneaking a last glance at my feet as they left, the monitor in my room going to black. A moment later I felt fingers scratching under my toes, and I loudly yelped, caught totally off-guard. I heard the presenter chuckle to himself, then walk away.
The holes in the wall slowly widened, and I took it as a signal to pull my feet back through into my own room, the straps on my chair loosening at the same time. My soles tingled as I got ready to stand up, my feet finally touching the floor – I hadn’t looked at it before, but it was some of the softest carpet I’d ever felt. I took a moment to rub my soles against it as the CEO appeared on screen again. “Hope you’re ready for tomorrow too. It’s a late night, go ahead and get a good night’s sleep! But before you do, take a look at that table.” The TV flickered off once more. I walked to the bed, a small table sitting near the head. I glanced at it, and wasn’t at all surprised by what I saw – an assortment of foot care products. Oils, some of my favorite lotions and creams, Vaseline, pumice stones and foot files, moisturizing socks, and a single pair of flip-flops, apparently in case I ever got to walk around much. They knew me too well; I couldn’t resist. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I popped open a bottle of my favorite lotion, lifted up my foot, and squirted a generous amount right onto my sole. I massaged it in, taking my time, even more careful than usual to ensure that every centimeter of my feet was moisturized and softened. I ran a few fingers over my own sole, having never realized before quite how sensitive they were. I sighed and grabbed one of the moisturizing socks, putting it on over my already lotion-covered foot. It was one of the fluffiest, comfiest socks I’d ever worn, and my toes wiggled inside as I began to moisturized my other foot. Once it was softened to my satisfaction, I covered it with the other sock. Rubbing the excess lotion into my hands, I slowly inched my way under the covers. I fell asleep almost right away, my toes still wiggling inside those socks as I drifted off.
(To be continued…)