You lay there on the floor, still bound and gagged, your body aching from the tight ropes Amber and Jess had used to hogtie you. The taste of Jess’s socks still lingered bitterly in your mouth, the fabric soaking with your saliva as you struggled to breathe through your nose. Every attempt to move only made the ropes dig deeper into your skin, a constant reminder of the humiliation you were enduring. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, your mind racing with fear about who might find you.
Then, you heard it—the soft, rhythmic click of heels approaching, echoing in the empty office. The sound was deliberate, commanding, and filled with an authority that made your heart race in a new kind of panic.
The door creaked open, and through the corner of your eye, you saw her: Courtney.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. Slowly, she stepped inside, her tall, slender frame moving with the poise and grace of someone who knew they were in complete control. Courtney was dressed in a fitted black pencil skirt that hugged her curves, stopping just above her knees, paired with a crisp white blouse tucked neatly in. Her legs, long and toned, were encased in sheer black nylons that shimmered faintly as she moved, her sharp, glossy black heels clicking with each step.
She closed the door behind her with a soft thud, her sharp brown eyes locking onto your pathetic form on the floor. For a moment, she said nothing, simply staring down at you with an expression of cold indifference, her arms crossed over her chest.
“So,” she said finally, her voice low and controlled. “This is how I find you? Tied up like some worthless dog on the floor?”
You squirmed under her gaze, but the ropes kept you in place, your body immobile and exposed. The gag in your mouth muffled any attempt at an explanation, the socks still thick against your tongue.
Courtney took a few slow steps toward you, her heels clicking against the floor with an almost painful precision. Each step was a reminder of her power, her authority in this office. She was the one at the very top, the one everyone feared, and right now, you were at her mercy.
She stopped just in front of you, looking down at you with disdain. Her nylons glistened in the light, her legs impossibly long as she stood over you. You could see the faint sheen of her heels, the sharp point of the toe inches from your face. Courtney shifted her weight slightly, one hand resting on her hip as she studied you.
“I always suspected you were weak,” she said coolly, her voice laced with disappointment. “But this?” She gestured to your bound form with a dismissive wave. “This is pathetic, even for you.”
She crouched down, her knees bending slowly as her skirt tightened around her thighs, her long legs still wrapped in the black nylon that clung to her skin like a second layer. Her face was close now, her expression unreadable as her eyes flicked over your helpless state. Her heels shifted as she rested one hand on the edge of your desk, balancing herself.
“You’re going to tell me who did this,” she demanded, her voice calm but leaving no room for disobedience. “And I’m going to decide what happens to you after that.”
Your breath hitched, and you tried to shake your head, the taste of the socks in your mouth making it impossible to speak. A faint smirk crossed her lips as she reached down, her long, manicured fingers grazing your jawline with surprising gentleness before gripping your chin firmly.
“But first…” She gave a low chuckle. “I think I’ll teach you what happens when you fail to show respect to those above you.”
Courtney pushed your head back with a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. Her fingers released your chin, and she straightened, towering over you once more. With a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted her foot, her glossy black heel hovering just above your chest. The sharp point of her stiletto grazed your skin through your shirt, and then, with a soft, almost casual press, she placed the heel firmly against you, the pressure forcing you into the ground.
“I don’t think you fully understand who’s in control here,” she said, her tone smooth and commanding. The nylons covering her legs shimmered in the light as she shifted her weight slightly, pressing down harder with her heel. The pressure was just shy of painful, but the humiliation was unbearable. You were completely at her mercy, her sharp stiletto keeping you pinned like an insect under a glass.
“You know,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension, “I could leave you here. Or, I could make this worse. Much worse.”
She bent down again, this time slipping her heel off with a soft pop before tossing it casually to the side. Her foot, still wrapped in the delicate black nylon, replaced the heel on your chest. The nylon was smooth, the weave fine enough that you could make out the faint outline of her toes through the fabric. She pressed down harder, the warmth of her foot contrasting sharply with the cold indifference in her gaze.
“Would you like that?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “To be crushed under my foot? Reduced to nothing more than something for me to walk on?”
You whimpered, the gag muffling your sounds as she shifted her foot higher, the arch of her nylon-covered sole pressing against your throat lightly, just enough to send a wave of panic through your body.
Courtney’s lips curved into a faint smile, as though she was enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath her. She pulled her foot away, but not before grinding her toes slightly into your chest as a final reminder of her power.
“I wonder,” she mused, standing up straight and retrieving her discarded heel, slipping it back on with ease. “What would Scarlett think of this? Or Jess, for that matter. You’re already at the bottom, but we could drag you even lower.”
She leaned against the desk, crossing one leg over the other, her heels dangling casually off her toes, her nylons stretching as her leg flexed. She didn’t seem in any rush to leave, taking her time to savor your humiliation.
“You’re not fit to be in this office,” she continued, her voice soft, almost conversational. “You’re barely fit to be in this room. But…” She trailed off, a spark of amusement lighting in her eyes. “I think I know exactly how to make use of you.”
She pushed herself off the desk and crouched beside you again, her fingers reaching down to pull the gag of Jess’s socks from your mouth. You gasped for air, your chest heaving, but before you could say anything, Courtney shoved her own nyloned toes right against your lips.
“Kiss them,” she ordered, her voice icy. “Show me how low you’re willing to go.”
You hesitated, but her gaze hardened, and you knew you had no choice. Slowly, painfully, you pressed your lips against the delicate fabric of her nylons, the taste of nylon and her skin making your stomach turn with a fresh wave of shame. Her foot twitched slightly under your mouth, as though she was savoring the feeling of control.
“That’s better,” she purred, withdrawing her foot after what felt like an eternity. “You’re lucky I found you and not Scarlett. She wouldn’t be as kind.”
She stood up once more, looking down at you one last time. “Stay here. I might decide to use you again later.”
With a final, satisfied smirk, Courtney turned on her heel and left the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, leaving you bound, broken, and humiliated in the same spot where she found you.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
