The door to Courtney’s office loomed in front of you, the wood cold and imposing beneath your trembling hand. Behind you, Amina’s presence was a constant reminder of your humiliation, her towering figure casting a long shadow over your hunched form. The frilly apron she had forced you to wear clung uncomfortably to your body, its delicate lace trim a stark contrast to the suffocating weight of your shame.
You took a deep breath, swallowing your pride, and knocked softly on the door.
“Come in,” came Courtney’s sharp voice from inside.
With Amina nudging you forward with the toe of her shoe, you crawled through the door, your knees scraping against the carpet. As soon as you entered, you were hit by the overwhelming scent of Courtney’s expensive perfume. The office was immaculate, as always, a testament to her control and order. Courtney sat behind her large mahogany desk, her eyes narrowing as she saw you on your hands and knees. She was the very picture of power and elegance, her tall, slender frame draped in a fitted burgundy pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees, showing off her long legs encased in glossy, sheer black nylons. She wore a crisp white blouse that accentuated her figure, and on her feet were a pair of stunning black stilettos, the heels impossibly high, making her tower over you even while seated.
She sat back in her leather chair, crossing her legs with a soft *swish* of nylon. Her stiletto dangled lazily off the tip of her toes as she watched you crawl closer, the soft click of Amina’s flats following behind you.
“Well, well,” Courtney said, her voice cold and filled with amusement. “What do we have here?”
You tried to find your voice, but the humiliation was overwhelming. The sight of her legs, her towering height, the way her shoes gleamed in the light—all of it combined to send a wave of submissive desire crashing over you. You could barely think straight, your mind torn between the shame of your situation and the strange, unsettling thrill of it all.
“I—” you began, your voice shaky, “I’m here to—”
“Speak up,” Courtney interrupted sharply, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t have all day.”
“I’m here to beg,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling as you knelt before her, your eyes fixed on her towering heels. “To beg to be… the cleaner.”
Amina stifled a laugh behind you, and you felt her presence close by, watching every humiliating word leave your mouth.
Courtney raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Beg? Now *this* is something I didn’t expect from you. I always knew you were pathetic, but I didn’t think you’d crawl to me like this.”
You stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze, the weight of her power crushing you. Her long legs crossed again, her stiletto swinging lazily off her toes as she regarded you like an insect.
“Look at me,” Courtney commanded, her voice sharp.
You lifted your gaze slowly, your eyes traveling up her legs, over the sleek nylons that clung to her skin, past the curve of her waist, until you met her cold, piercing eyes. She smiled, and the sight made your stomach turn with a mix of dread and desire.
“So, you want to be the cleaner?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. “You want to take Amina’s position? After all these years of looking down on her, mocking her… you want to crawl in here and *beg* for the same job you’ve always thought was beneath you?”
You nodded, your throat too dry to speak. Amina snickered behind you, her large frame leaning against the doorframe, enjoying every moment of your degradation.
Courtney leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, her chin in her hand as she studied you. “You’re pathetic,” she said bluntly. “But I’ll consider it.”
Your heart leapt, but before you could speak, she continued.
“Of course,” Courtney said, “there are *conditions*.”
You felt a chill run down your spine. “Conditions?”
Courtney stood up, her height towering over you as she stepped around the desk. In her high heels, she was impossibly tall, her legs seeming to stretch on forever. She approached slowly, each click of her stilettos against the floor like a hammer driving in the nails of your fate. She stopped in front of you, her black stiletto only inches from your face, the pointed toe gleaming in the light.
“You’ll take a pay cut,” she said, her voice cold and authoritative. “A significant one. A cleaner doesn’t deserve to make what you’ve been making.”
Your mouth went dry. “But… I…”
Courtney’s hand shot out faster than you could react, the sharp crack of her palm connecting with your cheek ringing through the office. The sting burned across your face, and you gasped in shock, your head snapping to the side. The force of the slap left you trembling, the taste of copper in your mouth.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Courtney snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’ll take the pay cut or I’ll have Amina send those photos to everyone in this office. And trust me, you won’t have a job left after that.”
Behind you, Amina chuckled, clearly enjoying your suffering.
Courtney bent down, her face inches from yours now, her stiletto pressing against your knee. “And as for your uniform,” she continued, “you’ll wear the most humiliating maid’s outfit I can find. Frilly, feminine, designed to make you look as ridiculous as possible. You’ll clean this office on your hands and knees, and every time you look at Amina, you’ll remember that you’re nothing compared to her.”
You tried to protest, but your words died in your throat. Courtney’s grip on your chin was firm, her fingers digging into your jaw as she forced you to look up at her towering figure. “Do you understand?”
You nodded weakly, the shame and fear swallowing any remaining resistance.
“Good,” she said, releasing your chin and stepping back. “Now, you’re going to show me just how much you want this job.”
She pointed down at her shoes. “Start with my shoes. They’re filthy.”
You hesitated, but a quick glance at Amina’s phone in her hand reminded you of what was at stake. Slowly, you bent down, your lips trembling as you pressed them against the tip of Courtney’s stiletto. The leather was cool against your mouth, the faint taste of dirt and polish clinging to your lips.
Courtney watched with a smirk, her arms crossed over her chest. “Lick them clean,” she ordered.
Your tongue darted out, tasting the leather as you obediently licked the surface of her shoe, your humiliation growing with every second. Behind you, Amina burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the office as she recorded your degrading act.
Courtney’s heel pressed against your mouth, her nylon-clad leg towering over you as she continued to degrade you. “You’re nothing,” she said softly, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a worm, a worthless little worm crawling at my feet.”
When you were finally finished, Courtney stepped back, satisfied. “You’ll start tomorrow,” she said, her voice dismissive. “Wear the uniform. And don’t even think about backing out. Amina, he’s all yours now.”
Amina grinned, her dark eyes gleaming as she stepped forward, patting you on the head like a dog. “Looks like I’m the boss now,” she said, her voice filled with smug satisfaction. “And you… you’re nothing more than a cleaner.”
Courtney smiled, watching as you knelt there, your cheeks burning with shame, your future in the office reduced to nothing more than a humiliating shadow of what you once were.
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