Fuck you.
Morgan gave my face a couple of more slaps, getting my face red and my cheeks stinging, before she passed her socked feet on my face a couple more times, then finally, kicked my shoulder, sending me crashing to the floor. “Go prepare my work clothes, I’ll be up in a minute.”
I didn’t need to be told that twice, as I ran away then up the stairs. I wiped my face with my wrist as I sniffled, and got one of Morgan’s uniforms out of the closet. I tried not to think about how this day would proceed. She hadn’t been in the house half an hour and she’d already got me in tears. She’d already started deliberately humiliating me. I mean who the fuck rubs her feet in another woman’s face?
I had just finished laying her clothes on the bed when she walked in. I looked at her, and she immediately started taking her clothes off. She took off her sweatshirt, then threw it at me, and I waited for her sweatpants which hit my face quickly after that. I put them in the laundry basket.
She stood in the middle of the room, with her hands on her hips, looking at me, like she was waiting for something. “Dress me up Judy come on.”
I relaxed my tensing muscles and grabbed her skirt. I kneeled in front of her, with my head facing her crotch. As she stepped into the skirt, she bumped her hips forward, bumping my face with her black panties and giggling. “That’s the pussy your husband is gonna fuck tonight.”
I could only ignore her and slid the skirt up, covering her thighs and crotch as fast as I could. I got her shirt and blazer, then put them on her.
“Black heels, and nylons.” She pointed to the closet.
I got them then got to my knees again, opening the nylons hem up so that her foot could easily get into it. She looked at me like I was the stupidest girl on the planet, before she puffed and raised her foot to her hand, taking her sock off then the other before throwing them both in my face. “Idiot.”
I blinked, trying to hold the tears in until she’d leave. She got her feet into the nylons, and I spent some time adjusting the legs until they looked perfect and smooth, before I got her heels.
I held the heel in my hand, and guided her foot inside it with the other, then did the same for the other foot. I looked up at her, and saw her tormenting gaze above me. She must’ve been savoring this moment. I would give anything to know what was the joy she had in this. What was so damn enticing about torturing your best friend.
Seeing that she didn’t move, I took a wild guess at what she could be waiting for, then leaned my head downward, until my face hovered over the tops of her feet. I pecked at her nylon-covered foot, and at the toe of her black pumps, and kept pecking, waiting for a sign to stop, only to have her nudge my face away dismissively with the toe of her shoe then leave the room whiteout a word. I felt like a piece of shit. She kicked me away like I was nothing. And I was truly nothing. What kind of woman would accept this. I stayed on the ground, my sight glued to the floor. I felt like I didn’t deserve to look up anymore.
The sound of the car’s engine running, and then the car driving away, felt like a piano had been lifted from my shoulders. Just like that, I was a free woman again. I looked around my room, reminding myself of why I was going to put up with this. I rose to my feet, then dragged myself to the bathroom. I hadn’t even washed my face yet. And I had some foot sweat to clean off.
I did my business in the bathroom, and made sure to scrub my face hard and clean. The fucking bitch. Who did she think she was, rubbing her dirty feet in my face. Making me kiss her damn shoes. She was never going to stop was she? All I could hope for now, was that this wasn’t an incrementing situation. What she’d put me through until now was humiliating enough. She couldn’t be thinking that she’d take this further.
I looked at myself in the mirror, with the water trickling from my face, as my eyes grew hopeless, as I realized that this was still day one. I sighed, grabbing my hair from around my shoulders and tying it in a short bun.
I got out, made some coffee and some crepes, before sitting with my pajamas on my leather couch, where the two fucks had been making out, then turning the TV on. I had the house for myself for at least eight hours. I didn’t feel like doing anything, I just wanted to laze around, watch my shows, and eat. I grimaced at the fact that they were going to probably call me before they come back and tell me to prepare dinner or something.
I ate my creeps in front of the TV before I got up and started doing some chores around the house. Whoever lived with me, it was still my house, and I liked it tidy. I grabbed Morgan’s shoes and went upstairs to put them in my closet beside the others. I grabbed a mob and some all-purpose-cleaner, and started mobbing my floors while listening to some music. I always danced around while I cleaned, in front of the giant wall mirror on the left wall of the living room, which I installed just to look at myself every now and then while I did chores; I liked to see my slim body at work, and since no one was praising my body anymore, my praises were pretty much all I got. I made sure to put on some happy music this time, as this was going to be my life for now. 8 hours for me, the rest for them.
Before long, my eyes looked randomly at the clock while I sat in my kitchen drinking coffee, and I frowned at seeing it was nearing 4. If they didn’t have overtime or something, they would arrive any minute.
I sat at my kitchen window, sipping on my coffee and waited, dangling my foot anxiously waiting for a message or call. It came eventually. My phone rang.
“…Hello,” I said.
‘Hey wify.” Morgan said indifferently. “We’ll be home in about 15 minutes, start on dinner.”
“…What would you like to eat?” I said as I rose up from my seat. I didn’t want to make her wait, giving her an excuse to pull something, not that she needed one.
She said casually, “…Anything from your hands is delicious love, you chose.”
I gritted my teeth. To be honest. Her treating me like a friend, like she wasn’t fucking up my life, annoyed me a hundred times more than humiliating me. “Fine.” I said, making sure to sound passive.
“Some dessert too. A big one.”
“…”
“Judy?”
“Morgan I can’t make both in fifteen minutes.”
“We’re not eating as soon as we arrive wify.” She snickered, then ended the call. I knew exactly what she meant. I started cooking dinner, which was some chicken slices with some vegetables, quick and easy. I put a cake dough in the oven and got out some ice cream to go with it.
I saw Mark’s car pull into the garage, then saw Morgan and Mark get out of it then walk to the door, they looked happy as hell, as Morgan laughed about something. He wasn’t even that funny.
The door opened, and her clicking pumps were the first thing I heard as they made their way to the living room.
“Ohh wifyyyyyy.” Morgan called, but with no real enthusiasm.
I knew if I called back I was going to shout at her, so I just walked out of the kitchen to the living room, where she sat on the couch with her legs crossed. I hated to admit it, but the sight in front of me was sexy as hell. Corporate clothes really suited her. She sat there in her black skirt and blazer, her slender legs crossed in nylons. I made sure to not let her catch me staring, and I raised my eyebrows as to ask her what she wanted.