Captured by The Corporation (or My Own Fault) - Part 1
by Softsoledboy
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(This has been in the works for a while, and the time has come to put it out there. I'd like to thank a chat buddy who's been integral to this story - the concept, most of the situations, even a lot of the dialogue are all his ideas, I'm just putting them into story form. He didn't want to be named, but a TON of the credit goes to him. You know who you are.)
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I'm in no position to deny it anymore - I'm a tease, always have been.
For years now, almost as long as I can remember, I've always loved to turn heads with my feet. I started small - a few pics here and there on the internet, and the comments would roll in. Then I'd post more and more, a few videos here and there for good measure. It was a point of pride, almost an obsession. I'd spend ample time every day, caring for my feet, making sure they were always as presentable as possible. Soft, smooth, well-maintained in every way. For a long time, that's all it was - some "innocent" pictures and videos spread across the internet. Even that, though, was enough to bring a smile to my face when I thought of someone viewing them.
A little over two months ago, I finally made the big move - got out of the little town I'd been in all my life, and into the big city. The opportunities seemed endless....full of opportunities to do new things in life, find all kinds of work....and opportunities to "show off", if you know what I mean. It seemed like every day I'd find myself in a cozy little outdoor cafe, or a bench by a busy sidewalk, letting my feet slip out of my flip-flops, casually looking around to see who noticed.
There were always a few - men and women both, sneaking quick glances as they walked by, or pretended to play with their phones. Then there's always the few who don't even try to hide it, their eyes perpetually pointed at my feet. The ones who wouldn't even try to glance away when I'd knowingly wiggle my toes. Sometimes it was the same people day-to-day always, taking a seat behind me at the cafes. Luckily for them, I didn't mind. I have to admit, I did feel silly sometimes - obsessively caring for my feet, teasing with them at every turn...felt like something more suited to a college girl than a 23-year-old guy. But I never could resist....maybe I should've tried to.
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I was on the bus home when it happened. I remember thinking it seemed empty that day; just me and a few others onboard, only a couple stops to go before I got off. It was at one of them where we picked up our next passenger, a well-dressed man, in maybe his early forties. A small goatee, glasses, seemed like the professional type. He walked by me, took one look directly down at my feet, still in my flip-flops, and picked his spot. A few seats back, across the aisle. I knew he was getting into prime viewing position. My feet slipped out, my tiptoes touching my sandals, soles on full display for him. I remember hearing him make a call. I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping, but I heard a few phrases - in retrospect they all make sense.
"Yeah, I can see them."
"No, no, I know it. I'd recognize them anywhere."
"They're just what we need."
"Make sure you're ready."
As the bus came to my stop, I gave the man one last flex of my toes and slowly walked off the bus, giving him a few final glimpses of my soles. I stepped into my apartment, ready to relax for the afternoon. There was an open can of soda on my coffee table - I didn't remember leaving one out, but that's nothing out of the ordinary for me. I was thirsty and didn't care too much, though it seemed a bit flat. I slumped down on the couch and flipped on the tv, immediately hitting the guide button and trying to pick a course of action. I browsed through a few pages, my eyes feeling heavy. That wasn't right, I'd gotten plenty of sleep the previous night. About a minute later, the root beer made sense. A trap. You never think you're gonna be drugged til it happens. Right before things went black, I noticed a figure approaching. I'll never know where he was hiding.
***
I'm not sure how much later I woke up, but I couldn't move. I was in a seat like a long metal recliner, padded for my comfort at least. Metal bars held my torso and legs in place. A quick glance told me I seemed to be in a large cell, though it didn't look like one at first - as strange as it sounds, it seemed.....I guess the best word is hospitable. A surprisingly comfortable-looking bed in one corner, a mini-fridge plugged into the opposite wall, a clean-looking sink and toilet, a TV attached to the wall in front of me, slightly to the right. Wherever I was, it seemed like they wanted to make sure I was living well.
Then it suddenly occurred to me. I don't know how I didn't realize it at first, but there were 2 round holes in the wall in front of me, in which my ankles were currently resting. My feet were poking into an adjacent room! I was suddenly very aware of them, noticing my flip-flops were still on, feeling them against my soles, the thong resting between my toes as they wiggled curiously. I thought of all the possibilities, but my mind kept coming back to one, although I dismissed it over and over. I'd thought about similar scenarios many times before. Even fantasized, you could say. But nobody would ever really do something like that. It was unimaginable. Nobody would ever go to these lengths to get what they wanted.
There was a burst of static as the TV flickered on, startling me. A picture started to form, a clear, color image of a man at a desk. He was wearing a suit just like the man I'd seen on the bus, though this man was older, and struck me as a corporate type, a CEO maybe. As the picture came into better focus, I noticed a plaque on his desk, and though I couldn't make out the words, there was a symbol that confirmed everything - two cartoonish footprints, side by side.
"Hello there." My eyes were glued to the TV now. "I think you know why you're here, but I'd like to elaborate." He pulled out a framed photograph, and I immediately recognized it as an image of my feet, one I'd posted online just a few days ago. "These belong to you, correct?" I stared for a few moments, and saw there was a camera on top of the tv, allowing me to communicate with him. Without even thinking, I just nodded my head, confirming it. "Good, good. They're lovely, by the way!" He turned the picture around and stared at it, a satisfied smile on his face. "We've been following you for some time now...online and in the real world. We know your little habit of showing off those little feet of yours. And thanks to your some of your chat records, we know what you like done to them. You're quite generous with them, too."
"You see, I run a little company. We cater to an audience you know well - those who have an interest in feet. And I do mean an interest....we have quite the enthusiast crowd. Many are searching for the pair of feet that fits their needs just right."
He straightened in his seat, and his voice took on a more serious, but still conversational tone. "We're going to find out what needs you are best suited for. Every day your feet are going to be submitted for observation to our Quality Assurance crew and a few lucky clients. All those things you've chatted about online? They're going to be done to those feet, a new one every day. Our staff will then complete surveys about their experiences with you, and over the course of months, we should have enough data to sell you off to the most interested client. If everything you say online is true, you shouldn't have a problem with that."
"In fact, it's time to meet our staff...and some of our more affluent clients...right about now." The image on the tv suddenly changed, a view from the back of what seemed to be a conference room. There were about 25 people seated, with many more standing. Most were men, but a few women were noticable as well. At the front, a man stood at a podium, two things sticking out of the wall behind him....I moved my feet a little, and the movement on the screen confirmed they were my feet. There seemed to be a Powerpoint presentation or something of the sort projected onto the wall above them, though I couldn't make it out.
The man addressed the crowd. "I'd like to waste no time introducing all of you to our next subject. We're very excited to finally begin working with him." He walked towards my feet and slowly removed my right flip-flop, then the left. My toes curled slowly as I felt the crowd's eyes on them.
(to be continued...)
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