Landlady Takes Control Part 2

Natalie was blind with anger, stuffing clothes and toiletries into a suitcase. Charlotte's audacity caught her off guard, and that was saying something.
	The nerve of that woman! If Natalie didn't want to let Dr. Sahi rest her smelly feet on her face, why would she allow Charlotte to do the same thing, and in the comfort of her own home?! And at least the doctor had an excuse for why it would benefit Natalie (even if the girl didn't believe it for a second; if anything the treatment seemed to make her foot phobia even more pronounced). When Charlotte requested it, though, she just sounded like a posh bitch demanding a human footrest.
	Natalie went over her argument with Charlotte again and again in her mind as she packed away her belongings: she was particularly proud of the way she stood her ground – her fierce  assertion of her own dignity in the face of Charlotte's smug grin.
	"No way!" Natalie shouted, disgusted by the way Charlotte had expectantly kicked her battered white Keds off. She apparently hadn't been wearing socks all day.
	Even halfway across the room, Natalie took notice of the odor. It brought to mind being beneath that horrible Pakistani woman's feet for so long. Flashback feelings of helplessness, degradation, and humiliation dominated her thinking, and she felt like if she submitted to Charlotte it would worsen her condition somehow.
	"Excuse me?" Charlotte said, leaning forward and glaring at Natalie.
	"You heard me! I won't do it! I hate feet, why are you so obsessed with them?"
	"You're the one with the obsession, Natalie," Charlotte said calmly, "it's just that you have a negative obsession. Honestly, I think it will be weird having my feet in your face too, but Dr. Sahi is worried about your condition, and I agree."
	Charlotte was lying through her teeth: she adored the idea of resting her tired, sweaty feet on this bratty girl's face. She had specifically worn her old Keds and run around all day to make it worse for her. To have her old critic as her human footrest made her feel so powerful, and sexy. And Natalie's petulance made it even better! To know that beneath her feet, a helpless girl was scowling and cursing herself for getting trapped in the most degrading position – it was too good!
	"I won't do it," Natalie repeated. "So.. what happens next?"
	Charlotte paused, then let out a long sigh.
	"You will need to move out, Natalie. Immediately. Dr. Sahi warned me that if you get too excited, you could have a violent outburst, and I'm afraid for my safety. If you want to live under my roof, you need to undergo Dr. Sahi's program to the letter."
	For a moment, Natalie actually did consider slapping the blonde bitch right across her face. But she knew that Charlotte would sue, and she would certainly go to jail, making it even harder for her to escape poverty.
	Natalie shook her head, and went to her room to pack. As soon as she finished, she dropped the key on the table. She knew she wouldn't get her deposit back, but it was worth it. She flipped Charlotte off on her way out, and peeled out of the driveway, heading nowhere in particular.
	She ended up sleeping in her car in a quiet residential neighborhood. At about 2AM, there was a flood of lights and a knock on her window. A mean-looking police officer calmly explained that it was illegal to sleep in her car. Natalie told the truth: that she didn't have a place to stay, and that this was temporary. The officer walked away, and Natalie racked her mind for where she could spend the nights. All the shelters were full due to the new vagrancy laws that passed last year--
	Natalie's blood ran cold when she realized how precarious her situation was right now. Those vagrancy laws had criminalized homelessness, and basically put poor people into a huge industrial complex that was tantamount to slavery. But they wouldn't charge a young white girl with that, would they?
	"Step out of the car, ma'am," The officer said, resting one hand on his weapon. Never had a police officer taken that tone with her before – until tonight, they had been smiling, helpful and even a little flirty.
	Soon she felt the cold steel handcuffs close on her dainty wrists, and had her legs kicked apart so the officer could search her for weapons and drugs. All the while he explained that she had admitted to being a vagrant, and would be referred to a state facility that could give her help. It was almost enough to make her laugh, the base hypocrisy of it. She was going to a jail, plain and simple.
	As she rode away, she saw her car being towed even though it was parked legally. There was another $500 fee.
	The processing was traumatic. She had expected to be fingerprinted, but the officers didn't stop there. A frowning woman told her to take her shoes off so they could add her toe prints into the system as well! Afterwards, the same corrections officer took a cotton swab and roughly gathered some saliva and tissue from inside Natalie's mouth. It felt dehumanizing, and even then they weren't finished. Next they had her sit in a tiny chair with several cameras facing it from all different angles. She had to stare into each camera for several seconds so they could add her facial analytics to their database.
	By the time she reached her temporary cell, her spirit was nearly broken. Everywhere was lit by awful fluorescent light, and all she could think about was how doomed she was. What were her options now? What choice did she have but to return to Charlotte on her hands and knees, and submit to whatever outrageous whims the women could come up with?
	In the morning, she was released from her cell and taken to a interrogation room where a heavy-set lawyer immediately took control of the situation. He was balding, and obviously in poor health but he still had a professional demeanor – even the police seemed to demur in his presence. Right away, Natalie knew this guy didn't work cheap.
	He dismissed the officers so they could have privacy, and started right in.
	"Miss Osinski, I am Mr. Bannerman, I have been hired to represent your case by Miss Lamberton. You should know that the police found marijuana in your car – concentrates, too. The prosecutor will probably push for an enhanced sentence under the new 'three strikes' law. "
	Natalie was floored. Getting hit with the 'three strikes law' was about the worst thing that could happen to her. She couldn't even wrap her mind around it.
	"Miss Lamberton does not want to see you go to a Vagrant Center – you probably know that they are highly unpleasant. Long, hard work days and poor food rations. And that's not even mentioning the culture behind bars. Judging by your case, you would probably be facing a 10 year sentence. No parole."
	Natalie remembered reading in the news about how private prisons had lobbied for mandatory minimum sentences on 'vagrants.' She never thought she would be in the cross hairs of such a terrible law. Those centers were glorified sweatshops and chain-gangs, where the poor could slave away for pennies to make life more comfortable for the well-off. Also, the 'three strikes' thing was just a bullshit reason to get people to stay in those centers even longer.
	The lawyer went on. He explained that he knew the judge, and that she preferred to find alternatives to jail sentences. As soon as Natalie heard this news, she felt cold dread take hold of her body. Then Mr. Bannerman produced a plea bargain for Natalie to read.
	"This is the best we could get. Charlotte is a very wealthy client, and she can afford to take you on as a... private inmate. During this time, you would technically be on work-release from jail. As such, you will not be allowed to own much in the way of property, and you will face random parole hearings to see that your treatment is going well. Miss Lamberton would be your warden, and her word will carry a lot of weight during these hearings. You should probably just go with whatever she thinks is best – or you could end up hunched over some assembly line, stitching the "Nike" logo onto sneakers for twelve hours a day."
	He meant this as a joke but it was a bitter, offensive jest.
	Natalie went white as a sheet – her pallor was amplified by the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. She caught her reflection in the one-way mirror and barely recognized herself – all color gone, all pride vanquished. She looked at the documents, but didn't sign them.
	"Listen, Natalie, I know you have your doubts. But I can promise you that anything is better than jail."
	She glared at the man. What did he know?! If she signed, she would be little more than Charlotte Lamberton's property. Her pet. A little slave girl who she could order to do the most outrageous and humiliating things, with full security in the fact that she could just send Natalie to jail if she disobeyed. And if Natalie said, 'no' to Charlotte – what then? She might as well remove the word from her vocabulary.
	The threat of prison saw to that. So, with white knuckles, Natalie signed her name to the plea bargain again and again. The lawyer looked on, helpful but a little bored. When Natalie finished, she followed him out of the jail and into his Mercedes. She was confused by the fact that they didn't head home, instead arriving at some uptown salon. The lawyer double-parked his BMW out front, and told her they were waiting for her inside.
	"What's going on?" Natalie asked, wanting nothing more than to go home and sleep in her own bed.
	"Miss Lamberton has paid for you to get a makeover before you return home," the guy said, obviously annoyed at having to take so much of his time with her. To him, Natalie seemed like a temporary annoyance and he wanted to be rid of her as soon as possible.
	Natalie wanted to object, but she knew better. One little peep and it was back to jail! Instead she climbed out of the car and walked into the salon.
	It was an upscale place, and a Filipina receptionist greeted her as soon as she walked in. Although Natalie felt anxious being here, the receptionist's confidence helped put her at ease. They walked to the shampoo bowl as the receptionist explained the services Natalie would be getting: a cut and color, a mani/pedi, and an eyebrow waxing. Although that sounded like a lot, Natalie couldn't help but relax as she felt warm water run over her scalp, and loving hands massage shampoo into her hair, which she hadn't washed for a few days. It was interesting how this little act of kindness seemed to create a barrier between the horrors of jail and the joys of freedom – Natalie knew she couldn't go back to that awful place.
	The Filipina girl had quite skilled hands, and apparently her job was to make this as enjoyable as possible: the massage went on for quite some time. Natalie was nearly nodding off by the time her shampoo finished, and awoke to the feeling of a glass of wine being put into her hands. She sipped some of it – very good stuff.
	By the time she was seated at the hairdresser's station, it was easier to enjoy the feeling of being taken care of than it was to ruminate on how badly she was screwed. An alternative-looking girl arrived, with full-sleeve tattoos and multiple facial piercings, and ran her hands through Natalie's wet hair to inspect it more closely.
	"Hi, I'm Diana. So you're getting a pixie cut? You have the right hair for it... It's just... I've never seen someone come in here when someone else picked out their hairstyle" the cosmetologist said, clearly struggling to find a polite way of navigating this issue.
	Natalie blinked. A pixie cut?! Those were so out of style – they hadn't been popular in years!
	"And dying it black, eyebrows too. Well I guess I have my work cut out for me!" Diana said, reaching for the scissors.
	Natalie took one last look at her hair and drained her entire glass of wine. The Filipina girl dutifully refilled her glass, with quite a bit more this time.
	Natalie loathed the idea of another woman telling her what to do with her hair, but what option did she have? Soon Diana had lopped off more than three quarters of Natalie's hair – much more than she had anticipated the girl would do. It made a serious difference in the way Natalie came across. She seemed more elfin now – her glass-like facial features more fragile and youthful. Admittedly, the stylist did a good job on the haircut, but it still felt weird to feel cool air on the back of her neck for the first time in years.
	While Diana cut Natalie's hair, she talked in a bubbly tone.
	"So, are you in like a special relationship with this Charlotte woman? I've done something like that before – one time I even slept in a dog cage!"
	Natalie raised an eyebrow – this girl was into some kinky stuff! She started to get a little embarrassed at Diana's openness, and just murmured something indistinct in response.
	"Yeah, I had to get out of it, though. He got way too controlling. He wanted me to do something like the Alexander Technique where I study myself in a mirror doing every little thing so I can do it in a better way. All these little guidelines, like he wanted me to act like some stupid ballerina whenever I sat on his lap. Too much!"
	Diana had finished the biggest cuts, and was adding texture to Natalie's hair with smaller snips. The end result was a mini, ruffled pixie cut – with enough bangs for Natalie to cover her forehead in a disarming way, but very short everywhere else.
	"Now for the dye," Diana said, mixing a potent brew of chemicals in a little plastic bowl.
	By the time Diana was finished, Natalie looked like a different person. Bitter thoughts crossed Natalie's mind on just who that person was. She thought she looked like a little nymph or a gamine – or some wayward orphan with big eyes and a serious need to be protected. She certainly looked years younger, and more naive. She had a hard time taking herself seriously, and she couldn't imagine what other people would think.
	"So, how does it look?" Diana asked.
	This was the worst part. Diana had technically done a good job, and Natalie didn't want to offend her.
	"It looks good! Thank you," Natalie said, smiling.
	When Natalie saw her smile in the mirror, she understood just how transformative this haircut was. It seemed like it was designed to endow her with a sense of frippery, a playful innocence that she wouldn't be able to shake. An assistant came to sweep up Natalie's long brown hair as she went to sit in the nail salon area. Skilled technicians trimmed her nails, massaged her hands and feet and finished it off with a fine, french mani/pedi. They used gel, so the polish would stay on for weeks. This was another mark against her: french manicures were largely seen as ostentatious and gaudy – maybe excusable for a teenager going to prom but inappropriate for a more mature woman.
	She sighed as she looked down at her nails, again impressed by the craftsmanship but ashamed at how they made her look. The buzz from the wine was wearing off at this point, and she was getting sleepy. Soon a rideshare came to pick her up and deliver her back to Charlotte's house, where she could begin serving her lengthy jail sentence.
	The driver, a middle-aged man with an Armenian accent, chided her for skipping school.
	***
	She knocked on the door to Charlotte's home, unsure if she was even welcome to come and go freely anymore.
	Charlotte came to the entrance, and beamed a radiant smile at Natalie. Natalie glared back at her, but she felt like her attempt at being dour was totally undercut by her playful hairstyle.
	"Natalie! I'm so glad to see you. Come in, we have a lot to talk about. Cute hair, by the way."
	The way Charlotte was pretending to be her friend made Natalie uneasy. She felt like a guest in her own home. No, not a guest, a prisoner. And her warden was a twisted woman who seemed to delight in her humiliation. What sorts of indignities did Charlotte have in store for Natalie, now that she had no escape but to prison?
	She didn't have to wait long to find out.
	"Here, take a seat," Charlotte said, pointing to the ottoman in front of the sofa that she was currently using as a footrest.
	She had those same battered Keds on her feet that she wore the last time. Except now, Natalie had no choice but to sit by the woman's feet, as far away as possible on that small ottoman.
	"Could you help me with my shoes? I hit the gym pretty hard today, and I'm feeling tired," Charlotte said. She didn't mention that she had worn those same Keds to the gym, and run several miles in them on the treadmill, but Natalie would find that out as she obediently removed the woman's old sneakers.
	Natalie's fingers trembled in a vain show of defiance as she unlaced Charlotte's shoes and slipped them off her warm feet. The smell hit her right away – the blonde bitch wasn't even wearing socks of course. Natalie wanted to recoil, to stand up and run out the door, but it only took one thought of jail to keep her exactly where she was.
	"Thanks!" Charlotte said, wiggling her toes.
	"Anyway, I had a long conversation with Dr. Sahi about how we should approach your treatment. It was illuminating how well she understands you – she really thinks our relationship is the key to your rehabilitation."
	"How?" Natalie asked.
	"I think she used the term ' prolonged exposure therapy,' which means you will need to be exposed to feet like, a lot. Different feet in different situations: like if you massage my feet right when I get out of a bath that's good, but it's also good if you rub them right after I get home from dancing all night after I skipped a shower that day."
	Natalie nearly gagged at the thought. Charlotte was playing innocent, but she clearly loved the idea of having Natalie at her feet.
	"And not just MY feet, either. You'll need to see all different types: Dr. Sahi's, my friends, your old friends. You know your ex David? The doctor said it would be especially helpful if you were exposed to his new girlfriend's feet with him present."
	Natalie's mind reeled at the thought. That breakup was less than amicable, and she still felt kind of raw about it. But one thing was for sure: she hated David's new girlfriend Jillene. She was one of those preppy, basic bitch types who didn't care about anything outside herself and having fun.
	"But that's only the basic concept of the therapy," Charlotte said, smiling as she saw Natalie's involuntary show of terror.
	"Because of your arrest, Dr. Sahi thinks it's necessary to greatly expand the treatment. In order for it to be most effective, we will need to remove certain considerations from your day-to-day life. This means that you will wear a uniform in my home and outside of it, and that you will need to surrender a lot of control over your choices. Like, instead of worrying about choosing what to eat, and making it, I will decide what you eat and when. You can ask me for food, but ultimately it will be my decisions you live by. This way, you can direct all your mental focus onto getting better!"
	Natalie frowned, and shook her head. She hated uniforms – the way they flattened people's individuality in the service of some authoritarian force. It seemed like Charlotte and the doctor had designed this treatment to crush even the slightest hope of freedom. Or worse, to dangle it in front of her so it was forever just out of reach of her french manicured fingers. And what was their reasoning? So all Natalie's attention would be constantly focused on the very things that were an affront to her!
	"Anyway, there's more to it, but go ahead and put your uniform on, then come back and you can start massaging my feet. They've been lonely with you gone!"
	Charlotte dismissed Natalie to her room like some menial – yet another slight. When Natalie got to her room, though, she gasped in horror.
	Charlotte had gotten rid of nearly all of Natalie's possessions. The room looked like a stripped-down college dormitory, with just a twin-sized bed in the middle and a single dresser. Natalie's photos, posters, and other decorations were all gone, along with her books and clothes. Then she opened the closet and there was a coup de grace to her dignity hanging there.
	Charlotte's 'uniform' for Natalie was nothing more than a tight-fitting grey cotton tennis dress, with a white skirt that flared out in an eye-catching way. Natalie struggled to even get it on – it felt like the cotton had some stiff underwiring that compressed her ribs and tummy in a painful manner. The skirt was far too brief – micro length, so its hemline was much closer to her narrow waist than to her exposed knees. If she let her hands fall to her sides, her knuckles brushed the bottom edge of the skirt. Any attempt to smooth it down failed.
	A pair of white lace socks with ruffled anklets rested atop the most prurient shoes that Natalie had ever laid eyes on. They were Oxford platform high heels, but in a vibrant pink color. The things were polished to a nearly reflective shine, and had a subtle hand-tooled pattern along the topline. These shoes were so bad they made Natalie miss the old ballet flats Charlotte had forced upon her, but those were gone along with most of her other stuff. It took some practice for her to even stand on the ridiculous platform heels, and because she could only rest her weight on a very small portion of her feet, her steps were reduced to a hobbling gait.
	Natalie couldn't bear to look at her reflection in one of the many mirrors that Charlotte had installed in the room, and instead returned to her landlady. The click-clack of her heels echoed through the home that was once hers as she went to massage the feet of the woman who stole it from her. Charlotte eyed the girl up and down with an expression that seemed to say, 'oh my god, I can't believe she actually put it on!!'
	Red in the cheeks, Natalie took her place on Charlotte's footrest and received the woman's feet into her lap. Without much prodding, she covered her hands in oil and began massaging the woman's tired soles as Charlotte leaned back and flashed a wide grin.
	"I don't know what it is about french manicures, I just like them. Never on myself, of course, but on a waitress or a maid it just seems so... appropriate, you know? Like I can really see your fingers work on my toes."
	Natalie just nodded. She could feel the muscles in Charlotte's feet relax at her touch, and cursed herself for bringing this woman so much comfort.
	"Anyway, you have another appointment with Dr. Sahi tomorrow. She will fill you in on the rest of your treatment. And I talked to Ivan. He said that your criminal history is okay, you just need to let each of your clients know. I'm sure you two can work something out."
	Natalie was stretching Charlotte's toes as she heard this, gently pressing each one backwards in a way the woman seemed to enjoy. She thought of ways she could escape: maybe she could transfer to a different warden? Or appeal her case? But those things cost money, and if there was one thing Natalie knew it was that Charlotte would block any opportunity for her to wriggle free. So she sat rubbing Charlotte's sweaty feet, trying to ignore the fact that the woman had serendipitously placed her dirty Keds right next to the place she was seated.
	Charlotte took it easy on Natalie that first night, knowing that the girl had just gotten out of jail and too much stress would just slow down her treatment. She did point out the new house rule that Natalie was no longer allowed free use of the furniture outside her room: her place was on Charlotte's footrest, and even then only when Charlotte permitted it. If she needed to sit down otherwise, there was a small cushion in one the corner of the room where she could rest. It was a  raised and modified version of a zazen meditation pillow, though, and its sloped shape made it natural for Natalie's entire body to be pressed into the corner of the wall.
	She sat there for quite some time that night, with nothing to do but brood on the injustice that had befallen her. Here she was a prisoner in her former home, wearing a ridiculously juvenile outfit, sitting with her nose in the corner like some misbehaving child while the bitch who stole everything away from her reclined on the sofa watching mindless TV shows.
	All she could think of were plots to escape – anything to avoid sitting beneath this woman's feet for her young adult life.
	***
	What a sight Natalie made that first morning.
	She waited at the bus stop in her outrageous platform heels, nervously grasping the teeny, tiny pink clutch purse that Charlotte had provided for her. It was about as small as her fist, and looked like a toy – it was barely big enough to hold a cell phone. There wasn't even a strap to go around her shoulder, just a little round handle that made it look all the more frivolous. But it was her makeup that caught each stranger's eye that morning. It was so bad that most people didn't even notice her purse.
	Charlotte helped her this first morning, but cautioned that Natalie would need to create this look herself from now on. On her lips, she wore a clear pinkish wet look lip gloss, with eye-catching sparkles in it. Then there was the smoky pink eye shadow (with sparkles too, of course) and the winged eyeliner. Topping it all off was the long false eyelashes Charlotte had glued on her, at least until her natural lashes would grow to such a length. Charlotte had applied a serum to her lashes to ensure this would happen – already she felt an eerie itch that she didn't dare to scratch.
	Put together, she looked like a teenager catching a bus to prom, not a grown woman on her way to 'therapy'. Men seemed to appreciate her tartish look, eyeing her up and down like she was a piece of meat. Women openly scoffed at her, giving her mean side eyes and making too-loud comments on how she looked. By the time she reached the doctor's office, she had already suffered but it was nothing compared to what the plump Pakistani woman had in mind for her.
	She remembered what the doctor wanted to see. With equal parts disgust and trepidation, she opened the door to Dr. Sahi's office, got on her hands and knees, and crawled over to the awful woman. The carpet scraped against her exposed knees and she felt tiny flecks of dirt come off on her hands. When Natalie arrived to the woman's side, she kissed the hem of her red dress which rested against her mid-thigh, and knelt silently waiting for acknowledgment. Dimly, Natalie realized that her lip gloss hadn't even come off on the dress – apparently this was the expensive stuff.
	Dr. Sahi didn't keep her waiting long.
	"Ah, hello Natalie," she said, beaming down a smile at the girl. She probably meant to show authority, but to Natalie she just looked arrogant.
	"I'm glad to have you back. I think that we can work through all your neroses, and turn you into a functioning member of society. Please take your place beneath my feet, and I will begin explaining."
	Natalie crawled beneath the desk again, and lied down supine before the doctor with her head against the desk's modesty board.
	"To begin, you must ask to enjoy my feet," the Pakistani woman said, "Something like: 'Please put your feet on my face, Prisha. I am a silly little girl and I need your guidance.'"
	Natalie swallowed – it was so much worse to have to ask for this torture! But she repeated the doctor's words even as they felt bitter in her mouth.
	"Are you sure you want this?" Dr. Sahi asked, "I did not shower this morning – they might be a little dirty."
	Natalie clenched her jaw. She knew the answer the doctor was fishing for, but the thought of the woman putting her unwashed feet on her face was completely egregious. But what choice did she have?
	"Yes doctor, that's fine with me."
	The woman kicked off her leather heels and swiftly put both of her warm feet against Natalie's face – how could they possibly be this sweaty?? Wasn't the woman sitting at her desk the entire morning?
	"That was good, Natalie," Dr. Sahi said.
	It was not good, Natalie thought! Dr. Sahi's feet were worse than the day before, and the woman seemed a little too comfortable using her face as a footstool. The doctor clenched and flexed her toes, putting more pressure onto Natalie's face in a way that made the girl shudder.
	"Natalie, this next part will sound strange but you need to trust me. I need you to reach beneath your dress and start... self-stimulating."
	Natalie's body tensed up as she realized what the woman was asking. Dr. Sahi wanted her to masturbate while another woman rested her feet on her face?? No, never. It was too strange. She shook her head, at least as much as she could considering the fact that she was being smothered by hot, pungent feet. Natalie suspected that Dr. Sahi had even re-worn the same nylons from their last session – they were ripe enough.
	Dr. Sahi's tone went from polite to threatening in an instant.
	"Natalie, I do not have time for your hesitancy. In fact, now that you have tried to refuse, we must heighten your treatment. In addition to self-stimulation, I will need you to plant an occasional kiss on my feet, and thank me for helping you. I will also need you to call yourself a stupid bitch for doubting me."
	Dr. Sahi sensed Natalie's hesitation, but she was resourceful. Rather than hammering the poor girl further, she switched tactics.
	"I know this sounds wrong, but it is crucial to your wellbeing," the thick woman said in a more gentle tone.
	"This avoidance-oriented exposure will strike a serious blow to your mental hangups. And the only reason I am using such strong language is because it is within your lexicon."
	Natalie remembered when she stormed out of the woman's office, and called her a bitch. No doubt she was getting her revenge right now! But the friendly tone did make things more palatable, even though Natalie knew she was falling for the 'good cop bad cop' routine.
	"Anyway, every moment you wait is hurting your chances at recovery. Please begin now – I promise you that you won't like the next step if you keep showing resistance."
	Natalie's face contorted in anger, but she realized she was defeated.
	She reached beneath her tiny skirt, beneath her underwear and sought out her clit to begin rubbing it. As she did that, she planted a small kiss on the doctor's nyloned foot. It felt coarse and steamy against her lips, and a thin veneer of sweat seemed to rest atop her lip gloss as she pulled away from the kiss.
	"Th-thank you doctor for your help... I am a... stupid bitch for doubting you. Please keep helping me."
	Although she was blinded by the doctor's vile feet, she knew the woman was smiling. Natalie also felt the telltale movement of the woman's legs spreading apart, and realized the doctor was probably 'self-stimulating' too. This was beyond strange, beyond outrageous, and all Natalie could do was kiss the woman's smelly feet and continue repeating her demeaning phrase again and again.
	The worst part was that Natalie's act of playing with her clit was getting her genuinely aroused! After some continued attention, she was copiously wet down there in spite of this ridiculous circumstance. But Natalie made one show of resistance that the doctor didn't seem to pick up on: she did not allow herself to cum. It would be too embarrassing to have an orgasm beneath this woman's feet – like she was accepting the mistreatment on some level. They continued this way for quite some time.
	"Thank you for putting your beautiful feet on my face, Dr. Sahi. I'm a stupid bitch, and I need you to control me."
	The words shocked Natalie as soon as they came out of her mouth – something about her arousal seemed to lower her inhibitions. The doctor had told Natalie to improvise what she was saying, but that was quite a thing for her to invent on her own!
	"Good, Natalie. You are showing progress!" was the woman's response, and judging by her heavy breathing she was progressing towards something herself.
	Natalie had no doubt in her mind that the woman was cumming when Dr. Sahi jammed her feet more strongly up against Natalie's delicate face. Natalie saw stars in her darkened vision as the woman practically crushed her face beneath her feet, losing all composure and moaning loudly enough that her receptionist could certainly hear. She took her time, too, stretching out the orgasm for quite a few lovely sighs.
	When Dr. Sahi finished, she scooted back from the chair and smiled a contended lover's smile down at Natalie. The girl could only glare back, but she was thankful that Dr. Sahi pulled her feet away.
	"Wonderful, Natalie. Of course this is just a introductory session: we will need to go deeper in future meetings. For now, though, I am quite pleased with your progress. Please stand up and bend over my desk; I have medication that I need to administer."
	Natalie was cowed at this point, and meekly stood up on her platform heels beside the doctor's chair. Her face was utterly red, and damp with perspiration but none of her makeup had been affected. The woman produced a large, egg-sized yellow gelatin capsule and Natalie's eyes went wide as she realized what it was. Why on earth would Natalie require a suppository?!
	The unspoken threat hung in the air, though, so Natalie just lowered her gaze and turned her back on the doctor, bending at the waist to lower herself over the vile woman's desk. Dr. Sahi pulled down Natalie's panties all the way to her feet, and lifted her skirt up to access her tight rosebud.
	Natalie heard the doctor slather some lubrication on top of the massive suppository, then she was advised to relax her rectal muscles. With a sigh, Natalie did her best to allow the doctor to shove the object inside her butt. It felt like an intrusion – the girl was totally ashamed to permit another woman to treat her in such a way but she just relaxed and prayed for it to be over soon. Indeed, the woman pushed the suppository deep inside Natalie, then used a tissue to wipe the girl's butt clean.
	Opening her drawer, Dr. Sahi produced a new set of underwear that nearly drove Natalie to tears. It was nothing more than an adult diaper! Although it had been made to have a small profile, there was still the crinkling sound of plastic on paper, and the thing had velcro on the sides instead of an elastic band.
	"This is because the suppository might leak, and it would be quite embarrassing for you to find a mess in your underwear out in public," Dr. Sahi said.
	Natalie thought it was even more embarrassing to be seen in diapers! But she followed the woman's orders to lift her skirt up so the doctor could help her. Natalie was stunned as the woman put the thick pad across her nether regions, securing the straps firmly against her hips. Just like that, Natalie was diapered – she felt the puff of cotton against her butt and the things seemed to make an audible noise with each tiny shift of her legs.
	Natalie was so mortified that it didn't occur to her what was in that capsule. Dr. Sahi picked up Natalie's panties, then stepped out of her own and paged her receptionist into the room. The boy arrived with the utmost haste, and practically salivated at the sight of two pairs of panties.
	"Ethan, these belong to Natalie and myself," the woman said, holding up both pairs of undergarments.
	"Nat, you don't mind helping Ethan with his treatment? I would appreciate it, and I'll see to it that Charlotte replaces these."
	Natalie agreed. Although she was uncomfortable with a guy worshiping her soiled panties, she was afraid of what would happen if she said 'no.' More bad therapy, no doubt.
	Besides, Ethan had it hard enough – by Dr. Sahi's description, the guy basically licked the pussy of any mature woman who desired it while boasting to the world of his own impotence. Ethan took the panties and left the room, and Natalie flattered herself in thinking that he was excited to get a pair that belonged to such a young, pretty girl.
	"So for your homework," Dr. Sahi began, sitting in her desk chair and leaning back with a delighted smile on her face.
	"I would like for you to pretend you have a foot fetish. Mention things in conversations to women about their feet: how cute they are, how you like their pedicures, if their shoes are comfortable. And be specific, mention things like their arches and their nail beds. Facing public stigma like this should help you see that liking womens' feet is nothing to be ashamed of."
	"What the fuck?!" Natalie thought.
	"She wants me to act like some perv, salivating over womens' feet in public? What kind of weirdo compliments an unfamiliar woman on her pedicure – what will people think of me?"
	"Okay," Natalie said, thinking that Dr. Sahi would really have no way of knowing what she did outside the office. She had no intention of following through with that, anyway.
	"Your job as a stretcher should be a great opportunity to openly admire feet – Charlotte introduced me to Ivan already and he's on board with the idea. He will supervise your progress, so try to do a good job, alright?"
	Natalie blinked. The cruel woman had thought of everything, hadn't she?!
	"Yes Dr. Sahi. Thank you for your help," Natalie murmured, gazing at the floor. She could feel a weird sensation between her cheeks, something like constipation that she couldn't do anything about. The doctor dismissed her and Natalie left a meek girl, not even taking notice of the reverence that Ethan was showing her panties as he sat at his desk.