Noel Fatale sat in her office, waiting patiently like a spider within a beautifully crafted web. She reclined in her plush chair, sinking comfortably into the soft leather, reveling in the scent of the leather mixed with her intoxicating perfume. Noel knew she had all the time in the world, and that her traps and clues would lead her prey right to her. She didn't have to lift a finger because she'd already pressed her feet and toes in all the right places. She smiled at the thought of what she'd done to lure her prey to her. A tiny bit of patience and she'd see her experiment to its exciting conclusion.
Noel took a sip of the coffee one of her little girls had brought her before the offices closed for business. In the hour that passed since then, the coffee hadn't cooled a bit. One of the advantages to being a Goddess was the ability to manipulate the physical world to suit your needs â€“ and Noel was very good at it.
She looked down at the computer touch screen built into the top of her polished mahogany desk. A small icon jumped up and down on the dock as a surveillance program of her personal design activated. Noel tapped the screen with a perfectly manicured fingernail, painted a shiny blood red, and brought up a video window of the lobby twenty-nine stories below her. Her prey double-swiped his ID card in the electronic lock and entered the building. She saw him flash a charming smile at the female security guard at the reception desk and head to a bank of elevators reserved for the upper management of her company. One of her companies, that is â€“ Noel was either outright owner or silent owner of at least a dozen highly successful businesses across the city she'd made her home over a year ago. This one, BioEngine, was a high-tech biological engineering/research endeavor that was starting to bear fruit on several fronts, which intrigued her enough to maintain a consistent presence in the office for the past few months.
Noel shifted from one hidden camera view to another, following her prey, a manager she'd had her eyes on since she first acquired the company. He was good at his job, efficient, protective of his staff, honest in all his dealings, loyal to the company, very hard working and just returning from a late meeting across town. And he was way too sexy for her not to possess him. A predatory gleam came into her eyes as she watched him board the elevator that would take him to his office on the twenty-fifth floor. She saw him lean into the corner of the box and wrinkle his nose a bit. It was the only thing about him that was wrinkled: from his immaculate pinstriped suit to his buffed and polished shoes, Carl Johnson was the epitome of "business formal." The black fedora he held in his hand was the perfect complement to his outfit. Noel shook her head in amazement. Even after hours he was well put together.
She watched him carefully as the elevator made its slow ascent up the building. The air conditioning was off in most of the building, including the elevators, so she imagined Carl was starting to feel a bit stuffy in there. Noel had arranged both the slowing of the elevator car and the lack of air conditioning with a few taps on the environmental control program in her computer. A higher-than-normal ambient temperature was a key component in her plan.
The elevator finally reached the twenty-fifth floor and Noel switched video angles again to watch Carl exit the elevator car and make his way to his office. No one knew she'd installed such an elaborate surveillance system throughout the building; the video feed was routed to her computer alone and the cameras were so small as to be invisible to the naked eye. Her soft, sensuous red lips pursed together as she mentally French kissed the thrall who'd invented them. (Two thousand miles away, that very same inventor had a spontaneous and uncontrollable orgasm in his sleep and Noel felt a rush of energy.)
Carl entered his office and immediately started fanning his face with his hat. He sat at his desk and picked up the phone. Noel had made sure his office was five degrees hotter than the rest of the building; that was all she needed to activate her trap. She tapped the screen again to activate the microphone attached to the camera system.
"Maintenance? Carl Johnson, 25th floor. My office is hot and stuffy and there's a kind of musty smell in here. Have you guys been working in here while I was away? No? Well, I don't know what your thermostats are saying to you but they're lying. It's hot in here! Okay. Thanks for doing what you can."
"Such a polite gentleman," thought Noel. "We'll see how long the gentleman part lasts. He should be getting another whiff soon."
Sure enough, as Carl took off his suit jacket and hung it on a nearby coat rack, he sniffed the air again. "What is that smell?" he asked himself as he looked around the room.
Noel's full lips curled into a smile. "That's right, my little morsel. Find the clues. Come to me.
Carl wiped sweat from his brow and leaned over his desk. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed as though the smell was coming from his desktop. He leaned close and sniffed. Faint but strangely intense, the smell tickled his nose. He barely suppressed the shudder that went up his spine - there was something very familiar about that faint scent. It seemed to be stronger at one end of his desktop than the other and he followed the trail with his nose.
In her luxurious office, Noel let out a small chuckle. "The hook is set; he's mine now." She propped her long, lithe legs up on her desk and looked at her stocking-covered feet. Her feet were slender and beautifully shaped, with long toes, high arches and toenails painted to match her fingernails and her lips. They were the feet of a Goddess and the word irresistible only began to describe them. Noel's excitement grew. She switched video cameras again, knowing just where Carl Johnson would be going next.
Carl stood at his open office door. He ran his hands across his short-cropped, bristly black hair. The deep mocha-colored skin on his finely-chiseled face glistened from small beads of sweat that increasingly had little to do with the heat of his office and more to do with something else, something more primal than he was aware of. Loosening his tie, he stepped from his office and wandered down the hall and into the executive lounge area. Noel's camera kept pace with him. She could hear him taking little sniffs of the air and she chuckled when she heard him mutter under his breath: "What am I doing? This is nuts!"
"You'll find out soon, little pet," she responded to the video screen. Her mind traveled back to the first time she met Carl Johnson. It was earlier in the year, right after she bought BioEngine. She had a meeting with all the managers and was impressed with Carl's preparation, insight and suggestions for budgeting and projects that gave the most bang for the buck in their research departments. A lot of the other managers openly expressed disdain for him, which was enough for Noel to make a mental note that he was someone to keep around...for more reasons than one. Wouldn't he be surprised to find out how much his very ideas had helped put him in his current precarious position? She twirled her thick golden hair around her fingers absent-mindedly as she watched.
On the screen, Carl stood in the middle of the empty lounge, searching for something that seemed to elude him but was present enough to keep him searching. He slowly turned to face a reclining lounge chair; the elusive scent was drawing him towards it. The foot rest of the recliner was extended and he knelt down and took a good whiff. One word escaped his lips:
"Feet..." The unmistakable scent of a woman's sweaty feet was smeared all over the footrest in front of him. He sniffed deeply now, as though identifying the smell that had been tickling his nose since the elevator ride broke through a layer of his calm faÃ§ade. He was entering a kind of dream state without realizing it. He knew he shouldn't be kneeling there, smelling the footrest, but he knew he had one fetish that he'd never been able to experience: worshipping a beautiful woman's stinky feet. What he was smelling now was pure heaven, yet he knew that even this was only a pale remnant. He wondered which of the female managers had sat there after some intense gym session.
"And now, we change things up," Noel said. She tapped the touchscreen and the environmental control program quickly lowered the temperature in the lounge by a few degrees.
Carl stood up suddenly, and the scent on the footrest faded almost immediately. He shook his head to clear it and caught his breath. "What the hell...?" He tried to collect himself and head back to his office. Leaving the lounge, though, he found the temperature on the rest of the floor to be as warm as his office. He walked back towards his office but his nose twitched and caught a whiff of the delicious foot scent again, stronger than what had led him into the lounge. Interestingly enough, though, the scent wasn't on the floor: it was on the wall, about nose-high, and it was definitely stronger. His mind's eye filled with an image of a beautiful pair of pale feet and he leaned his face into the wall to sniff. This time he couldn't suppress the tingle that went up his spine and caused his knees to weaken. That his cock had suddenly stiffened didn't register on his conscious mind, either. His feet moved on their own, and he followed the delicately smelly trail down the hall and through a door he hadn't noticed before. It closed silently behind him and resumed its appearance as indistinguishable from the wall.
Carl found himself inside a pitch-dark room, disoriented and a bit worried. He took a breath to call out and immediately fell to his knees. The foot scent inside this black box was much more intense than in his office, the lounge and the hallway combined. It was deliciously pungent and his mouth began watering. He couldn't see. He couldn't speak and he couldn't think straight. All he could do was kneel as the foot scent assaulted his nose and images of the beautiful feet assailed his mind's eye. He was on the verge of passing out from what seemed like lack of air when a brilliant light flooded the darkened room and he recoiled in shock. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his breath caught. He was face to sole with the very feet that had invaded his mind...the very feet that had produced the scent that was causing his mouth to drool and his cock to become even more erect.
"You may enter, pet," Noel's sultry voice called out. Carl made a move to rise to his feet but Noel stopped him cold. "Remain on your knees, pet."
Carl tried to get to his feet but he found his legs wouldn't work. He looked into the room just beyond the opened door and realized that he was staring into Noel Fatale's office on the thirtieth floor! The dark room must have been some kind of secret elevator. He shuddered from embarrassment and more than a little fear, but he still couldn't stand up. What was happening here?
Noel was the one to stand up. Her stocking-clad feet made no sound as she closed the short distance between them. Her dark gray pinstriped skirt clung to her hips and thighs and fell to just past her knees. Her white blouse was elegant but, with three buttons undone, it accentuated her breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. Carl couldn't help but look up in awe of this blonde beauty towering over him.
"I guess I'll have to help you along, pet," Noel said with a voice that dripped power and sensuality. She quickly spun around and placed the sole of one of her feet against Carl's face. The pungent aroma that had overcome him in the elevator was now smashed directly into his face and he gasped in surprise, taking in a deep lungful of her foot odor. Instantly his cock became rock hard, tenting out his pants obscenely, and he fell even further down into a crawling position. Pleased, Noel walked back to her desk, and if Carl had had the ability to look up, he would have seen her glorious ass sway back and forth with each enticing step.
As it was, all he could do was crawl behind Noel, his eyes fixated on her enchanting feet...literally the feet of his dreams. With each step Noel took, she left a patch of foot smell in her wake. Each patch pulled Carl deeper and deeper into her office and deeper and deeper under her control. Noel sat on a nearby black leather sofa and reclined with her feet facing Carl. He stopped crawling but couldn't stop staring at them.
"I'm sure you're a bit confused, even in your aroused state, Mr. Johnson. That's okay. I'll explain it to you but first you have to do something for me. Undress," she said.
Carl hesitated, but Noel raised one foot, flexed it, then quickly pointed it at his face. Carl's head snapped back as though he'd been hit by a crashing wave of water, but the wave was her foot smell. He was suddenly drowning in its sharp, tangy musk. Drool began to pool in one of the corners of his mouth. He felt his cock harden even more and his mind nearly broke. His suddenly realized that his hands were pulling off his shirt, even though he couldn't remember unbuttoning it. He couldn't stop them from unzipping and pulling down his pants either. He shuffled out of them without being able to take his eyes off Noel's enticing and powerful feet. In seconds, his body was exposed to her, with his crotch being the only exception.
Noel looked her prize over: strong arms, powerful legs, wide shoulders, flawless brown skin and a cock that was threatening to rip open his underpants. She approved of all of it, especially his obedient cock.
"Remove these, too, pet," Noel ordered and ever so lightly tapped the boxer briefs with her toes â€“ right on the tip of his rock hard cock. Carl felt as though he'd been struck by lightning, the touch was so powerful. His heart was pounding so hard, forcing so much blood into his cock that he thought he might die. Before he knew it, he was kneeling before the crossed legs of the company president, stark naked with a raging hard-on the likes of which he'd never experienced in even his wildest dreams.
"Good boy," Noel said. "Now for the explanation. You know we do genetic research here, Mr. Johnson. We explore the potentials of the human genetic code. We've already been able to establish methods of producing medicines that react in specific ways based on a patient's genetic makeup. One thing you don't know is that a small group of my private researchers has discovered how to use what we're calling "genetic specificity" in other interesting ways. You're a test subject for one of my experimental processes in control."
As Noel spoke she slowly bounced her foot up and down, back and forth. Carl's head moved in sync with her foot. Drool began dripping down his chin and his cock bobbed with each beat of his heart â€“ which seemed to also synch itself to the movements of Noel's foot. He wanted so badly to bury his nose in her stinky, delicious feet. He wanted so much to have her stroke his aching cock with her toes. A frustrated groan escaped his throat. Noel smiled down at him.
"I'm a Goddess, Mr. Johnson. Literally. I have exceptionally powerful pheromones and I love using them to entice men and women into being my pets. That's always fun, but I wanted to start using them in a more targeted way â€“ so that I could trap a specific person by leaving a trail that only he could sense, for example. By taking samples of your DNA, my little group was able to help me alter my foot smell in a way that only you could smell it. A little heated air was all that was needed to activate the pheromones and lead you from place to place, and eventually here. No one else in the world can smell this particular "wavelength" of my scent. You are a lucky, lucky boy, my pet."
Noel leaned down and pulled off one of her stockings. She waved it in front of Carl's nose and he inhaled deeply. "This smell is taking over your mind, my pet. It's making you mine in every sense of the word. One whiff of this scent and you'll come running to me no matter what. We'll have lots of playtime, you and my feet. They'll become your reason for living, your reason for working here, and your whole existence will be to please my feet in any way they demand of you. Here," Noel balled up the stocking and popped it into Carl's already-open mouth, "have a taste of your new owner, Mr. Johnson."
The salty taste of Noel's foot immediately hit his tongue and Carl couldn't contain himself. He began chewing on the stocking as though he were eating manna from heaven. His cock got harder still! It was so stiff it was pointing straight up to the ceiling. Noel took her bare foot and placed it against his nose and mewling sounds came from his gagged mouth. His eyes rolled into up into the back of his head and he almost passed out.
"You've been dreaming of my feet over the last few nights, haven't you my pet?"
Carl nodded his head as his eyes focused down his nose at the beautiful toes covering his face. He couldn't move his body. He couldn't do anything except taste her stockings, smell her feet, and silently pray to her for relief of his cock.
"I hear your prayer, my pet. Soon," Noel smiled down at him. Her hook was set so deeply, he'd never escape her power. "The reason you've been dreaming of my feet is that I've been marking your office with my feet for days now, raising the temperature just enough for the pheromones to become mildly active so they could subconsciously begin to take control of you. You're a prize, not only physically, but also for my business here. I value your work and that will not change. In fact, you won't even remember this little episode. But every time I want to play with you, my foot pheromones will call you to me and you won't be able to resist." She removed her other stocking and quickly wrapped it around his steel hard shaft. "This," she stroked his cock through the nylon stocking, "is also mine. I want a taste."
Noel raised her skirt to reveal her trimmed pussy and quickly impaled herself on his cock, stocking and all. Carl's mind nearly exploded with bliss as she forced him onto his back beneath her. She swung her feet around so that they were both covering his face and he bucked like a wild animal. She rode him until she decided he couldn't take any more, then she raised one beautifully wrinkled sole and slapped his face with it. He came like a freight train and her pussy sucked up every drop of his orgasm. Then he passed out. Noel smiled and licked her blood red lips.
* * * **
Carl Johnson woke at his desk. He looked at the wall clock. It was late. He must have been more tired than he thought. That meeting had lasted much longer than anyone wanted. He straightened his tie, pulled on his suit coat, shut down his computer and left for the night, feeling very happy to be working for such an exciting company.
On the thirtieth floor, Noel Fatale tapped the touch-screen on her desk and switched off the video surveillance on her new pet. They were connected now in a way that technology could never match, nor explain. She wouldn't have to keep tabs on him electronically. From now on, she'd know exactly where he was and what he was doing at all times. She smiled and stood looking out her window on the city she loved - and owned just a bit more of now.