A Company of Women

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Forced foot worship.
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byronbgeo
byronbgeo
61 Followers

Three days into the job and things had already taken a very peculiar turn.

Eric never expected to be laying under the desk of one of the three most powerful women at the firm, let alone with her scuffed Klogs resting firmly on his chest. Liz, the junior VP, had seemed so professional in her fitted jacket and slacks. But since when was resting her feet on a colleague's chest professional?

Liz grinned as she laid out her "rules".

"Rule number one," she said in a clipped and even tone, as if she expected his ready compliance in all things. "Do what I say and exactly what I say. That's the only way this is gonna work."

Eric was nervous. He'd agreed to the arrangement but wasn't expecting it to feel so humiliating.

"Rule number two," she continued. "I expect lots of enthusiasm for everything I have you do. I don't care if you enjoy it or not, but don't let me think for a second you don't enjoy it. Which brings me to rule three. No faces. I don't care how stinky my feet are. I don't want any looks of disgust and definitely no comments. You're here to work on my feet and that's exactly what you'll do. No attitude. I hate that."

Eric was still upset with himself for agreeing to it. He'd been warned Liz had smelly feet but he assumed she only expected a foot rub. He didn't think she'd be rubbing her smelly feet in his face.

He'd been trying so hard to make a good impression at the firm that when he wasn't doing so, he was too quick to agree to this exercise in humiliation. If only this hadn't been his only employment opportunity in months, he would have got up and walked out the door. But the future was bleak, poor job performance and employment gaps giving him fewer and fewer options.

MONDAY

The job had begun well enough. His interview with Amanda, the senior VP, went surprisingly well and he'd been offered the job on the spot. They'd been expecting a woman by the name of Erica, and yet somehow it didn't matter that he was a man named Eric applying for a job at a pr firm devoted exclusively to women's causes.

Amanda was statuesque with an angular, sporty physique, likely in her forties but easily passing for younger. She would have been intimidating if she hadn't reassured him with the occasional smile.

She broke the ice by joking about the name confusion.

"If I'd looked at your resume first, I would have realized your name was Eric not Erica but my assistant has a habit of mumbling," she confided. "Granted, I might not have looked at your resume if I'd known since, as you know, this firm is devoted to issues of women's excellence and leadership and ensuring that the accomplishments of our best and brightest are used to inspire other women to greatness. I wouldn't think this was the ideal choice for someone like you, not that I'd discriminate and say no. I just wouldn't expect one of the male sex to be all that interested in women's issues."

"I'm all for it," he volunteered, though he was ready to say anything to get the job. He was keen to get working again. "Women's issues, that is. We should do more to make their accomplishments known."

"True," she answered. "If only more boys could be grown-ups about it. We're here and we're taking charge. Get used to it."

Eric smiled a response though her remarks felt more like a threat. It was odd that she referred to men as boys.

"We had a few other boys working here, though they came in as copyrighters. It was never a great fit, though it could have worked if they hadn't been so sensitive about things, as boys do. Granted, the other copywriters probably gave them a hard time, but it would have been fine if those boys manned up. If you want to keep up with us, you've got to work hard."

Eric nodded with a smile. Whatever happened to the other men, it was of no consequence. He wanted a job and he was ready to do his best.

"I'll do what I can," he said. "You do great work here and I'd love to be of service." He didn't care what they did, but he would be good at it all the same.

Amanda flashed a smile. "Service. Indeed. I'd be happy to have you serve our cause. You'd make for an exciting change around here. With almost thirty women working here, adding another woman won't give the rest of us an improved perspective on the male sex. Having you here, committed to our cause, will show them that some of you lot can do what we can. A male account exec. I think that's what we need."

Here words were almost demeaning, but the pay was too good to give it more than a moment's thought.

"How soon can you start?" she asked, to his relief and surprise. He couldn't believe his good fortune. He'd submitted his resume on a whim, not expecting a response; and yet here he was with a new job.

No sooner did he accept her offer of employment than he was taken on a tour of their spacious offices. His presence was greeted with surprised grins. Many of the women were pleasant looking, and a few of them even beautiful. He didn't feel out of place. If anything, he felt fortunate, like a sultan presiding over a harem.

His new assistant, Nicole, was a girl in her mid-twenties, soft features and wide eyes. The girl couldn't stop smiling as she accepted Eric's outstretched hand. He figured she was pleased that finally there was a man working there. It couldn't have hurt that he was what many considered handsome, and, judging from the many women he slept with, very desirable.

It was fellow account executive Dana who took him under her wing. She wasn't beautiful yet he couldn't keep from stealing glances at her shapely physique. Like many of the women there, she knew how to dress, using a blouse and skirt to showcase her body.

"I've got to admit, I'm a little surprised," she confided when they sat down to discuss the accounts he was inheriting. "You know what we do, right?"

"Women's issues," he replied, wishing he had something more to say. He still couldn't believe he had the job.

"We do what we can to advance the role of women in society," she explained, "celebrating their leadership and pushing for more women in influential corporate roles. Though you wouldn't be here if Amanda didn't think you could help us with that. She's tough and she has a way of looking at you like you were standing in front of her with your pants around your ankles, but don't let that bother you. That's just how she is."

Dana quickly made Eric feel at home, giving him the lowdown on the company and on what accounts to prioritize.

"The ones over there," she said, gesturing to some Redwelds on a desk, "aren't that critical yet. But they will be. Look at these ones first."

The files Dana gave him concerned women athletes. Sports was familiar territory for him and he was already writing down ideas for how to market their accomplishments, with a view to using them on advertising campaigns.

TUESDAY

The following day, his meeting with Amanda didn't go as well as hoped. She was disappointed that he'd already neglected the high priority accounts, the ones Dana assured him weren't important yet.

"Look, Eric," said Amanda, her gaze withering. "I know you just started but I need you to keep up. Cute boys don't get special treatment here. They pull their weight and they keep up with everyone else."

"Of course. Dana said those files weren't important."

"Typical," she answered. "Blaming a woman for what you didn't do. Come on, Eric. Man up and get on those files. We have an event to prepare for this Friday."

She turned from him, which was Eric's cue to leave her office and get busy. He grabbed the neglected files and familiarized himself with them. The files concerned business leaders, one of whom was speaking at an event later that week.

That day, he prepared some notes to discuss with Amanda. He had enough ideas to prove his worth to the firm.

WEDNESDAY

His third day, he was no longer a novelty around the office. The grins and whispers turned to curt nods of the head. He was one of them.

He was reaching for the files which contained his handwritten notes when he was surprised to find they weren't where he'd put them. He was at a loss. He looked everywhere but they'd disappeared. Someone had taken them. Was someone trying to undermine him already? He thought he was part of the team, or had it only seemed that way.

He remembered enough about his notes to wing it, but when Amanda pressed him for details, he admitted that his files had been taken.

"You mean you lost them," she answered, her voice raised. The door was open which meant her assistant Steph and others could hear her dress him down. "Two days on the job and you don't know your right from your left," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe you boys think that when you make a mistake it's no big deal. But it's a big deal here. This is important stuff. Reputations on the line. And you think you can shrug it off like we don't have to do our utmost to advance the careers of women leaders. Do you even take this seriously?"

"I do," he answered, stammering under her imperious disapproval. "I can find those files. I really will do my best. I have great ideas."

"Useless when you lose the files, Eric," she answered.

"I think someone took them," he attempted to explain.

"There you go again. Blaming someone else. These are your files. Your responsibility. Or do you boys take responsibility for anything?"

"Of course. I'm sorry."

"Maybe it was a mistake hiring a boy to do a woman's job," she muttered to herself.

Eric felt insulted. He'd never been made to feel so small over something that wasn't even his fault. If someone took the files, he'd find out who it was.

Amanda's secretary Steph, a plump woman in her late thirties who made a habit of wearing frumpy clothes, covered her smirk with a hand. He flushed with embarrassment.

Eric stormed to Dana's office, ready to have it out with her. Who else knew about the files?

"How's it going?" she asked innocently before reacting to Eric's scowl. "That well?"

"My files went missing, the ones you told me not to worry about but that she says are critical, and now they're gone."

"I told you they were critical," she answered calmly.

"Well, they're gone."

"Sorry. She hates that. People losing shit. She didn't fire you did she?"

"No."

"You're lucky. People usually get fired for stuff like that. Well, she must be giving you one more chance. I wonder where those files went."

"I need to find them," he answered anxiously. He couldn't afford being out of work again. He had to salvage this job somehow.

"Must have been a real pants around the ankles moment, huh?" she noted with a grin. "Or should I say underpants and pants around the ankles? Not to mention extra shrinkage so she's feeling sorry for you too because she thinks you've got a really small penis."

Her sense of humor was untimely and inappropriate and yet she chuckled to herself as if his situation were a laughing matter.

"Don't worry. It'll work out. We'll figure something out. I don't want to see you leave. I don't think anyone does."

"I just need those files," he said, relieved to know he had some support.

"I'll ask around."

"Thanks," he answered, realizing that his fate at the firm hinged on this woman with the offputting sense of humor.

It wasn't two hours before Dana entered his office with a fellow account executive by the name of Alexa, a very attractive woman in a dress and boots, a smile upturned in a perpetual smirk. He recognized the files in Alexa's arms.

"I realized I was given the wrong files," she said with a winning smile. If she'd taken anything, it would be difficult to hold it against her. "Those were the ones I had to sign off on," she added, gesturing to his other files.

"You took them?" he asked.

"My assistant or yours. I don't know. They were on my desk. But I'll give you these if you give me those."

Eric took his files from her and let her retrieve the others. "I'll get these back to you in a jiffy." She added, still smiling in a way that seemed unmistakably flirtatious.

"This is Alexa," said Dana. "She handled the athlete files before you inherited them. Oh, I told her about your pants around the ankles moment with Amanda

"How embarrassing," chuckled Alexa.

"Not literally," explained Dana.

"I know. I was just imagining him pantsless in front of Amanda. Poor guy."

Alexa patted Eric on the shoulder. It was a little patronizing but he didn't care. Her touch excited him.

"We've been thinking of a way to help," said Dana. "Since this is also our fault. And I think we came up with something. It's unconventional but it's all we could think up."

Alexa took a seat, a hand to his arm. He imagined her sitting on his lap.

"Well, there's the other VP, Liz," explained Alexa. "She has a lot of clout around here and if you get in good with her, you're not going anywhere."

"Amanda can criticize you all she wants but with Liz on your side, you're safe. She's your insurance, you could say."

"What do I do?" asked Eric, eager to safeguard his job.

"You leave that to us," said Alexa with a gentle squeeze of his arm. "We've got your back."

"Drop by my office in an hour and I'll introduce you to her," said Dana.

"None of us can keep Amanda happy all the time," said Alexa. "But we make damn sure to keep Jen happy by any means necessary. She's cool. You'll like her."

"We could also explain the mix up to Amanda," suggested Eric.

"You want her to yell at us too?" asked Alexa, no longer smiling.

"Of course not."

"Then leave it to us," said Alexa, her hand once again grazing his arm. "We'll make it good again."

After the women left his office, he couldn't stop thinking about Alexa. She was perfection. His assistant Nicole, on the other hand, was less than perfection. Her usually mocking grin suggested she had something to do with the mix up. He chose not to confront her about it, but he knew to be wary.

He waited out the hour, only once interrupted by a group of four younger women who peered into his office, giggling as they waved to him.

"We're the copywriters," said one of the women, her long hair in a ponytail drawn tight over a pretty face. "My name's Jenna. When you're ready to work on anything, give us a holler."

"Or if you just wanna hang out," suggested someone else. "We're a lot of fun."

As the women walked away he could overhear one of them comment that "he's cute," to a raucous burst of laughter.

Eric felt popular and comfortable that his standing at the firm would be repaired. He wanted to do well and he wanted to thrive. He'd do everything he could to stay and to share this company with so many lovely and obliging women. Alexa, alone, was reason enough to do everything he could to stay.

When the time came, Eric walked to Dana's office where he met with Alexa and the other account executive, Nikki: a petite, bespectacled woman who greeted him warmly, a hand to his arm. It didn't compare to his excitement when Alexa placed a hand atop his shoulder.

"You ready?" asked Alexa.

"She's been looking forward to meeting you," said Dana.

"If what we suggest to her seems weird, just go with it. It's your best chance, believe me. You want to make a long and lasting impression with her, and this is the best way to do it."

"It's not what you say that matters for her, it's what you do."

"So be a good boy and say nothing," suggested Alexa, her finger to his lips. "Leave the talking to us and you can thank us later."

"Women's work fixes everything, huh?" remarked Nikki.

"That's why you boys need to leave more things to us," ventured Alexa, sliding her arm around his and guiding him from the office. Dana followed.

Jen had pleasing enough features and a stunning body that fit snug into slacks and shirt. She greeted Eric with a smile and a hearty handshake before turning to the others.

"So what's the surprise?" she asked, eyes widening with anticipation. "Besides the cutie with the nice ass," she added, turning to Eric, a hand grazing his arm. "Welcome, by the way."

"Well, in honor of your birthday," ventured Alexa.

"Which is tomorrow," corrected Jen.

"Well, we know how much you love foot worship," ventured Dana. Eric didn't know what he was hearing.

"Oh God, I could use it today," said Jen. "I haven't sat down all day."

Eric glanced down at a scuffed pair of black Klogs on her feet.

"Well, what would you think if that cutie were to worship your feet," said Alexa, " as our birthday gift to you."

Eric was too shocked by the words to know what to think. Surely, they were joking. He knew enough about foot worship to know it was something he wasn't interested in doing, much less for a superior at work.

"Seriously?" answered Liz with a giddy shriek. "He'll do my feet? Today?"

"For your birthday," explained Dana before giving Eric a conspiratorial wink as if the scheme had his approval.

"Oh my God," said Liz, beaming. "You guys are so awesome," she added before giving Dana and Alexa warm hugs. "I mean I can barely get a guy I'm dating to give me a foot rub much less full on foot worship."

Eric waited for them to admit it was all a joke, but the women continued hugging. "This is such an amazing gift, you guys. Thank you so much. My feet thank you. They sorely need the attention, let me tell you." The three women chuckled.

Eric noticed that Alexa's assistant, Brooke, a full figured girl, was listening and smiling. He felt embarrassed. Who else could have heard?

"Oh," said Liz, glancing down at her shoes. "I wore these ratty old things."

"So? He's worshipping your feet not your shoes," said Alexa.

"Well, my feet always get super whiffy with these and I wore them barefoot, so if he doesn't mind the stink. I knew I'd be doing a ton of walking today so I wore my comfy shoes."

"They're feet," said Dana. "I don't think he was expecting them to smell like roses."

"And it's your birthday," said Alexa. "The last thing you should have to worry about is your feet being too smelly. He'll worship them for you. Just enjoy it."

"Oh, I will," said Jen. "I can't wait. Why don't you send him to my office around 5:30? I should be done all my errands by then and my feet'll be ready. Super sore and soooo ready for it."

Alexa flashed Eric a smile as Jen leaned in to her and whispered: "He better be good."

"Thanks again. I'm really looking forward to it. Best birthday gift in a long time."

As Jen sprinted off, handbag slung over her shoulder, Eric turned his mounting anger on Dana. She was supposed to have been protecting him.

"Alright, a joke's a joke," he said.

"Her enthusiasm is genuine," explained Dana. "If anyone deserves some great foot worship it's her. She works so hard."

"I don't worship feet," he said in hushed tones, nervous about being overheard. "That's disgusting."

Alexa grabbed Eric by the arm and pulled him into her office.

"Well, this is as good a place to start as any," said Alexa, a hand to his shoulder. "Like I said, if you've gotta keep someone happy it's her and she's got this thing for getting her feet worshipped. I know it's a little weird, but it's the easiest way to make her happy. You do a good enough job and she'll never let them kick you out. But you've gotta do a good job."

"I don't think you have many options, Eric," said Dana. "Your days are numbered otherwise. I've seen it happen too often."

"I don't even know what foot worship is," he admitted.

Dana and Alexa exchanged a smile before Alexa turned to Eric and told him that "Jen'll show you."

"Do a great job," said Dana. "I can't stress that enough. Most of her foot worship stories are about guys who do a lousy job of it. And she hates it when a guy can't worship her feet right. Do a great job and you're set."

It seemed easy enough, but could he trust their assurances? It still seemed like a perverse joke, yet the inevitability of it was sinking in.

byronbgeo
byronbgeo
61 Followers
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