Becky 6 min read

written by Unknown author
original source of the story was Submitted by a visitor

Becky was my superior in my first job. She’d joined about a year after me and my management was one of her responsibilities. I felt humiliated by her from the start as I had applied for the job myself but had not got it despite being more qualified and having more experience than her. She, however, was stunning and had an unbelievably sexy manner that turned men to putty. So it was her that got the job. And she loved the fact that someone more suited to the role was her underling. She would spend her days bossing me around and would call me ‘boy’ and ‘number two.’ i even once heard her laughing in the corridor about my name being number two as I loved to be treated like shit so the name was fitting. This was not true, although I must admit I did find being ordered around by someone so beautiful strangely thrilling. But up until one November morning, it was just a case of her treating me like a skivvy and nothing more. That was until we found ourselves alone in one of the store cupboards.

We worked in events management you see and we kept all the stands and hangers that we would take to industry fairs in a large cupboard in the office basement. Becky was stood on the top rung of a step ladder. It was flat and square so she was able to stand on top quite easily. I was down below passing up panels which she would then hook up and hang from the ceiling. This placed my head pretty much parallel with her shoes, and she tapped this impatiently as she waited for me to lift the panels up. Her shoes were black, almost patent leather loafers with a three-inch chunky heel. They fitted superbly on her black stockinged feet and from where I was I had a wonderful view of her scrumptious legs. I could also smell the aroma of her perfume crossed with that of her feet – it was quite intoxicating as much as I tried to ignore it.

I passed the final panel down to her when she asked ‘what are you looking at number two?’ She could see I’d been glancing at her legs and sexy shoes and was smirking. ‘It’s just me and you in here, boy. And you’re taking advantage of the situation ogling my legs, practically assaulting me? You sick little boy. What have you got to say?’ I blushed. It was hardly assaulting but the way she spoke just made me feel so small and ashamed. ‘I’m sorry Becky, I didn’t mean to stare. ‘I’m sorry MISS Becky,.’ she snapped back. ‘Let’s have a little humility for once.’ I repeated my apology, addressing her this time as Miss Becky. She looked happier but had a sadistic smile on her face. ‘Now I’ve been waiting a while to put you properly in your place, you number two, you little shit. ‘Now we could take this to the Human Resources department which I assure you will almost certainly result in severe disciplinary action. Or we can solve this between us like adults.’
Becky was right. She had the HR department eating out of her hand. She had been seen leaving with the head after the office party and everybody knew he adored her. ‘look I’m sorry Miss Becky’ I said again ‘Please forgive me if I’ve upset you.’ As I hung my red face in humiliation, she tapped her shoe on the top of the ladder, tutting in time with the smack of sole against metal. ‘You know, I think when you are somebody’s lesser, somebody’s underling, it is only right that you should show your’s superiors proper respect. You do respect me, boy, don’t you?’ she purred. ‘Yes Miss Becky, very much,’ I replied. I felt a stirring in my trousers, I was beginning to soak up the degrading nature of the situation.

She stopped tapping her shoe and inched it forward so it was protruding over the edge of the top of the lady. ‘Show me you really know your place, shithead.’ The name hit me like a hammer. She was no longer alluding to thinking of me like shit but calling me it directly. I flushed red again. ‘Clean my shoes for me. It’s been wet out and they need a spit shine. I have a client coming in at 1 so need to look my best.’ I Gulped as I looked up at her face, so beautiful yet so cruel-looking, and decided to get this over with quickly. I reached for a packet of tissues in my pocket and pulled one out. ‘Not with tissues, shithead. I said a spit shine. Lick them.’

She thrust her foot forward again. I gulped again, unable to fully appreciate what I was being asked to do but compelled almost hypnotically to do it. She snapped her fingers and this time barked, ‘know your place and lick my Fucking shoe.’ The order hit me and I could only obey. I grabbed the sides of the ladder, bent my head, and stuck out my tongue. I slowly licked the top of her shoe. The leather was generally clean but there were some mud splashes from the rain. ‘Gobble up the dirt, show me you’re worth employment,’ she chuckled down at me. I continued to curl my tongue around the tops and sides of her shoes. The shiny leather felt cool on my tongue and the mud while pretty disgusting to think of it, didn’t taste too disgusting.

“Good boy, good boy,” she cooed as she changed shoes. Once I had licked clean the top of the second one, I pull back and hanging my head asked, “Is that satisfactory, Miss Becky.” The next thing I felt was the toe of her shoe hit hard right between my eyes. I recoiled in shock and pain. She now genuinely sounded less playful and angrier. “Satisfactory!??” she yelled at me. “You call shoes with filthy soles satisfactory? Do you expect me to feel my best with shoes that are covered in dirt? You disgusting little shit.” This really was more than I’d bargained for. She raised the sole of her right shoe and thrust it forward again. “Get your fucking tongue underneath that shoe right now – clean off the dirt.” I figured I’d already sunk pretty low, what the heck. And I was beginning to enjoy my ordeal. Being fully under the control of the gorgeous Becky felt really good – really natural. So, I did as she said, I moved my head underneath the sole of her loafer and started to lick. She was right, the soles were quite dirty – bits of grit, general grime as well as a couple of small clumps of mud fell into my mouth. I licked every inch of the sole then turned my attention to the heel and the area in-between. I actually didn’t care how this must look, or care about how humiliating this was, all I cared about was making that shoe sole shine.

When she purred down at me again “Good boy, good boy..” I felt so proud. I cleaned that shoe sole to perfection and as I began the second one, she giggled down at me “Now, we must think about revising your job spec. Cleaning my shoes is just the first of your new duties…”

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