Community Service Ch. 09

Using the ball of her bare left foot, Norma Newlove pushed my chin upwards, obliging me to look up at her gloating face. She was looking insufferably smug.

Handcuffed to the foot of her recliner, and with my face within such effortless reach of her dominating, tormenting feet, there wasn't a damn thing I could do to prevent my across-the-road neighbour from hell from doing just exactly as she liked with my captive and conveniently positioned face.

"Um ... CSO Karen?" said Norma sweetly. "In future, why not make mine, the Caning Recliner?"

"But that's not fair, Norma!" chided Cheryl Chubb. "What about Gina and me?" she complained plaintively. "And all of the other ladies! Why should the Caning Recliner be yours, by default? We should all have our rightful turns, at having Community servant David double-oh-seven caned at our feet."

There was a great hubbub, as all of the twenty-plus Sock Room attending, sock-changing females present, wholeheartedly and vociferously agreed with Cheryl's fairminded contention.

CSO Karen said, "That's a fair proposal, Mrs Chubb. But we'll have to put that issue to one side, though, for now. CSO Linda and I will come up with something, for next time: Ladies' names, could be drawn, perhaps, to decide who's shall be the Caning Recliner."

Sounding a tad impatient, CSO Linda said, "Yes, we'll sort that out later. But now we need to get on. We're keeping Stella waiting. She needs to be ..."

CSO Linda's words had trailed off, at hearing Stella's mobile phone ringing.

"Oh ... it's work. Sorry, Lindz, I'll have to get this," said Stella.

"Problem, Stel?" asked CSO Linda, when Stella had finished her phone conversation.

"Here, Lindz," said Stella, handing back CSO Linda's cane. "I've got to go."

"Aw - that's a shame!" commiserated CSO Karen. "What's up, Stel?"

"Yeah - it is a shame, Karen! But it can't be helped. We've just had a couple of big orders phoned in - urgent. And from the sound of things, we could get a few more!"

"Why, Stel?" asked CSO Linda. "What's happened?"

"Apparently, Lindz, word of Ms Harmman's new all day Saturday opening hours for your Sock Room has spread like wildfire, and females from all of the nearby towns are demanding the same opening hours for their Sock Rooms. It's all over the local radio and TV."

CSO Linda said, "But Stel - what about double-oh-seven's Standard Six?"

"I haven't got time, Lindz! I'm out of here! I'm going to be working overtime today, as it is. What, with these additional orders - and you know what the traffic is like, around south London. It'll just have to wait until next time - more's the pity! Friday, when I deliver your next consignment. It'll give me something to look forward to - ha ha ha! Seeya!"

And with that, the female Socks r Us delivery van driver Stella was gone - she was out of here.

I couldn't believe it!

What an incredible stroke of luck, I thought, as CSOs Karen and Linda set about unhandcuffing my wrists from the foot of an extremely chagrined Mrs Newlove's recliner. The look on her face - ha ha ha!

Not that I was getting carried away. It was only a postponement, after all. A few days' reprieve - and not a cancellation. But still. And at least I had got my face away from the tormenting cheesy soles of Mrs Newlove's feet. There was that!

CSO Karen said, "Pull your shorts up, Sock Boy - before I have you for indecent exposure!"

"Yes, Miss Karen," I said respectfully.

CSO Linda said, "Finish restocking the shelves, double-oh-seven - and get a move on!"

"Yes, Miss Linda," I said respectfully.

What a relief! I thought again as, setting foot on the first of the six wooden steps leading up to the upper level (street level) of the Sock Room, pleased as Punch as I was at the astounding narrowness of my escape, I couldn't resist giving Mrs Newlove an impudent smirk.

Though her colour rose instantly from her neck up, she was too speechless to react.

Barely able to hold back a triumphant chuckle, I was about to ascend the steps when I saw that a couple of recliners along, Cheryl Chubb had propped her dirty bare left foot on her right knee, and was absently picking at a toenail as sullenly she glowered at me.

Mrs Newlove, noticing my sudden, from delight to distaste, change of expression, followed the direction of my gaze ... and then looked back at me; her features, all lit up with gleeful triumph.

"CSO Karen!" shrilled Norma. "CSO Linda!"

"Yes, Mrs Newlove?" said CSO Karen. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's him - Community servant David double-oh-seven! He's wrong! I just saw the way he was looking at Cheryl's feet. And he wasn't respectful, and reverential, the way Stella was saying - quite the opposite! Cheryl deserves better! She's entitled to better! And who is he, to disrespect Cheryl's feet - a community servant!"

"Yes - I saw the disrespectful look on the community servant's face, too!" corroborated one of the two reclining, 'easy option' Sock Room newbies.

"Well, if Community servant David is so concerned about Cheryl's feet being so dirty," piped up Gina Stainham, "let him do something about it. Handcuff the insolent wretch to the foot of Cheryl's recliner, and let him do something about it - with his tongue!"

There was uproar, pandemonium in the Sock Room as all of the sock-changing females present erupted with shouts of approval and demands for the immediate implementation of Gina's saying-sorry sole-sucking suggestion.

"No," I groaned, in despondent dread - and Mrs Newlove grabbed hold of my right wrist.

"It's the only way he'll learn, CSOs Karen and Linda," said Mrs Newlove, holding on to my wrist like a policewoman staying a captured miscreant. "What better way, to start hardwiring his mindset: Give him to Cheryl!"

More uproar. More pandemonium. More shouts of approval, from the sock-changing females. And more demands, for a foot-kissing apology, and for a reverential, sole-cleansing demonstration of humility.

"Come on, Lindz, " said CSO Karen. "We can't go against the ladies' explicit mandate. You said he'd never learn, didn't you; that we'd be forever correcting him? Let's handcuff his wrists to the foot of Mrs Chubb's recliner, and leave him there for an hour. Then we'll come back, and check to see that he's done a good job of ... washing Mrs Chubb's feet."

"No," I groaned again, appalled at what lay ahead - and I felt Mrs Newlove's grip on my right wrist tighten.

"Yes!" exulted Norma, her face a picture of malicious, chalking-one-up-against-me achievement. "Yes - Community servant David double-oh-seven. Oh yes!"

"Nooooo!" I wailed despairingly, as like a man dragged to his diabolical doom CSOs Karen and Linda complied with the sock-changing females' clear declaration of feeling on the matter and handcuffed me to the foot of Cheryl Chubb's recliner.

"Nooooo!" I wailed desperately, as in a frenzy of excited anticipation the toes of Cheryl Chubb's days' unwashed, dirty filthy, stinky feet - her Monday-morning feet - wiggled and scrunched and splayed apart like crazy, right in my inches away, captive and conveniently positioned face.

CSO Karen was right:

I would never learn, I thought, as in remorseful reverent apology I kissed the chubby soles of Cheryl Chubb's dirty bare feet, feeling humbled and humiliated as never before.

CSO Linda was right:

My two young Sock Room supervisors would forever be 'correcting' me, I thought, as upon Cheryl's order I began licking from heel to toes the grubby bare soles of her feet. The flavours indescribable as cruelly cajoled by her to work harder on the bottoms of her grimy heels and the balls of her feet, I felt degraded and debased as never before.

And Mrs Norma Newlove, my across-the-road neighbour from hell, was right:

Norma had chalked up yet another one, against me, I thought, as upon Cheryl Chubb's command I accepted all five toes of her right foot into my mouth. The tastes and textures truly terrible, and as Cheryl pitilessly pressed and prompted me to work my tongue right down between each of her toes in turn - and clean - I felt used and abused as never before.

Humbled and humiliated, degraded and debased, and used and abused as never before.

As, in front of a twenty-plus audience of reclining and standee, chuckling and tittering, laughing and giggling, approving and cheering Sock Room attending females, I tongue-bathed Cheryl Chubb's days' unwashed, dirty filthy, stinky feet - her Monday-morning feet - until CSOs Karen and Linda returned.

Not one. But two hours later.

Community Service continues in Ch. 10.