This choice: Amber calls her slave, who promptly appears. • Go Back... "Doggy, come to your owner!" Amber ordered with a confident, jocose, tone. Something, or rather, somebody, moved in the shadowy corner of the room. As Maria tried to scan through the darkness, a man no older than 25 crawled to her superior while dragging his tied feet. When he finally managed to reach Amber, the man reflexively licked the already shiny black boots, causing the SSS Captain to release a dominant giggle.
Brainwashed by propaganda that depicted men as inferior beings, and having been raised in a family whose household pet was a male, Maria could do nothing else but grin evilly:
"Right where it should belong. At our feet."
"Oh yes, you are so correct, Maria." Amber affirmed, signalling her slave to take off the KGB-style combat boots. Acknowledging his new position, the Captain's human pet began to unlace the Master's shoes. "He's Jacques, although you can call him Doggy. Ain't that right, Doggy? "
"Yes, Goddess." Jacques uttered through his thick accent, making both SSS agents laugh devilishly.
"I can see Doggy is well trained. Where did you get him, ma'am?" Maria questioned, finally locating the source of the smell to female feet that flooded the office - Jacques seemed to be wearing a sort of pet collar made of what appeared to be once white socks. Likely, Amber's.
"A gift from a French feminist group. You see, Maria, a few weeks ago La ligue des partisans du féminisme, a feminist ally party in France picked up a radio transmission from an enemy pro-Male cell regarding an operation to destroy the former. Thankfully, they foiled the operation completely, and took dozens of male scum into custody. But because the French couldn't make them speak, the men were sent to the State Security to interrogate. Once confronted with our progressive interrogation techniques, they sang like nightingales. Neither we, nor the Frenchwomen, had anything else to do with the traitors, and since they were already used to the smell of our feet, we enslaved them as relief prisoners for the agents." she answered, dangling her black-socked feet which had finally slipped off her moist footwear, dangerously near Doggy's face and making Maria's eyes water slightly due to the smell that Amber was spreading through the room.
"That's so cool... I wished I had one so that when I came back to the HQ somebody would take care of my sore feet..."
"Inhale hard!" Amber cut, pushing her two bare feet into Doggy's face, who immediately began to smell loudly. "Oh, sorry. Well, if you accomplish the mission, and quite certainly you will, then Director Madison is surely going to give you at least a man to pet. Maybe even more!"
"Well, yes, that would be fantas-" Maria started. She was, however, interrupted by the opening of Amber's office's door. Agent Bismuth, a short girl with an abnormally pale face, and whose brown hair fell over her shoulders like water fell over a cascade, entered the room breathing heavily due to the hurried jog upstairs. Bismuth's eyes nearly jumped off their orbits when she saw her commander forcing the Frenchman to smell her feet. She seemed to also be able to smell them quite well, seeing how she tried to avoid breathing unnecessarily.
"Ah, there you are, Bismuth." the Captain greeted, giving out a small salute. Bismuth returned the salute, and swiftly passed the case's files to her commander, before attempting to exit the room as quickly and as unsuspectingly as possible.
Amber stood up and with a short gesture, sent her personal pet back to his corner. She once more sat down, instinctively putting her feet over the table. Maria, who has in the other side of the desk, tried to ignore the intense vinegary stink that her Captain's exhaled, but for no avail. Their smell seemed to block Maria's ratiocination as it hit her nostrils, causing her to both cough and forcing her stomach to try and retain the day's meals inside. Thankfully, Amber did not take long to review the case, ultimately delivering the file to Maria.
"Here you have all the needed information - suspected hideouts, common radio bands, some code names we have been able to pick out and the outlines of the organization's activity. Now, good luck to you, Lieutenant. The Feminist Republic puts its bets on you."
Maria stood up and saluted her commander proudly. The latter smiled widely, and dismissed her with a salute.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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