Business Partner's Slave
by Irishfeet@eircom.net

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Dan had been my best friend for years.

He was 6 ft tall with dark hair and incredibly good-looking. When we went out to bars, he was the one girls flocked around. As his friend - the geeky one with the "good sense of humour" - I had a fair share of female attention, but only because they wanted to know who my friend was and what kind of girls he liked.

Anyway, when we got the chance to go into business together we both quit our previous jobs and went for it. I was delighted because, unbeknownst to Dan, I had secretly worshipped him and particularly his feet for years.

Our partnership prospered until, when Dan and I were in our late twenties, we had 25 employees. I'd subtly maneuvered the office power-play so that, despite it being an equal partnership, Dan felt superior to me. I'd bring him coffee in the morning, make sure his projects got priority and generally try to boost his ego. His specialty was sales, while mine was engineering so I always used to joke about engineers being at the whim of sales guys - and then savour the moment when he'd take the bait.

Often he'd just give an evil grin, sigh and say: "where would I be without my technical slave?" His eyes would twinkle and I would put on my most sarcastic tone of voice and say: "thank you master, my life is complete".

Then one of us would change the subject, though I always wished it were true.

The story really starts after we re-organized the layout of the office.

We'd always preferred an open layout, feeling it helped develop communication between the staff. When we changed the layout, mine and Dan's desks were facing - with a partition attached to the top of the desks. This meant that there was no partition beneath the desks, it was open and we could stretch our legs out. I had a laptop computer and, because I was often out on site, I had to go under the desk to plug in or unplug the charger.

One day, after lunch, I went to unplug the computer and saw that Dan was sat at his desk - his legs stretched out and feet crossed at the ankles. His feet were right beside my laptop charger! I suddenly had a thought would it be possible for me to gently lick, or kiss, his shoes without him noticing?

My heart was pounding as I puckered my lips and moved closer to his toes. I could feel the heat of his foot radiating through the leather of his hand-made, black, Italian slip-ons. I placed a gentle kiss on the toe of his shoe, and instantly licked my lips. There was a warm, dusty, leathery taste, and it was like nectar! Just in case he'd noticed, I punched the sole of his shoe and said "move your feet, you fat slob. I need to unplug my latop!" Dan grunted, his feet retreated and I unplugged the computer. It was a brief experience, but over the weeks that followed I got braver and braver.

Once, we'd been eating lunch in the canteen. I noticed a small piece of cheese had fallen from Dan's sandwich onto his groin while he was eating. When Dan stood up, the cheese fell to the floor and he stepped on it. It stuck to the sole of his shoe as he walked back to his desk. Stupid as it may sound, I would have given anything to trade places with that piece of Swiss cheese.

I so much wanted to feel insignificant beneath his powerful feet - with Dan *really* humiliating me instead of just in jokey office banter. Later that afternoon, as he stretched out his legs again - I went beneath the desk and licked the cheese off the sole of his shoe. I felt so pathetic, but also happy - as if I was lower than the dirt stuck to the bottom of Dan's shoes. Fridays were casual days, so Dan would often wear his Caterpillar boots or Nike sneakers to the office.

Over time, I licked the soles of every pair of shoes he ever wore to work. If it had been raining, or he'd just used the urinal, and there were dried splashes on his shoes, I'd gently work with my tongue to remove them.

One Friday we were working late to get a large tender quotation out before the deadline. Everyone else had left and Dan had just asked me to get him a coffee, while he tried to understand the tender's technical requirements.

When I put the coffee on his desk, he glanced over at it. "Not enough milk", he said. "Jeez Dan - what did your last slave die of?" I asked.

" Boredom, due to underwork" he replied, "I want to make sure you don't go the same way". He looked up and gave his cheeky grin. "Yes master" I retorted sarcastically and took his cup back to the kitchen. When I returned, Dan was deep in thought, so I decided I'd quietly get working

on the soles of his new Josef Siebels without him noticing. I'd just cleaned some water splashes from the toe when I heard a voice above me. "Don't forget to clean the treads."

I froze for a second, then quickly backed up to pretend to be working on my computer. "What the hell are you talking about?" I said, trying to sound annoyed, but really trying to control my nerves and stop my voice shaking.

" I said - Don't forget to clean the treads", Dan replied, "if you're going to lick my shoes then make sure you clean the treads."

Now my heart was racing, but I couldn't admit to my best friend that I'd been licking his boots for weeks and worshipped his perfect feet for years, could I? I decided on the bluff - "So sad", I said, "you're only a little bit older than me, but you've lost your mind already."

" Hmmm", said Dan, "Maybe I am going mad. I'll just double-check the footage I recorded to see."

With that I raced round the other side of the desk to see video footage of me on Dan's computer screen. Me, under Dan's desk lapping away at his boots like a pathetic slave.

" Ahhhem" I started...

" Shut up", ordered Dan, "I had a suspicion something was happening, so I set up a little camera to see. So... you like my feet, do you? That changes things. That changes things big time."

By now, I had no idea what was going to happen next, so I just stayed silent.

" Anyway", Dan continued, "I think that's enough work for me for tonight".

He shut down his computer and headed for the door. "Lock up here", he ordered, "and get in my car. I've got plenty more work for you."

I decided I had no choice but to obey. I locked up the offices, set the alarm, and then went to Dan's car in the car park. He was stood beside it as I went to get in the passenger side.

" No you don't!", Dan said, "Dogs travel in the trunk!" He opened the trunk of his car. "Get in!"

Now I knew I was stuck. "Yes master" I said, but all the sarcasm was now gone from my voice. I climbed into the trunk of his car and he shut the lid.

We traveled for about 15 minutes. During this time I realized that Dan had left his running shoes in the trunk, so I stuck my nose in them and inhaled deeply. There it was - the true smell of Dan's feet; the smell that had merely tempted me before. A beautiful smell of leather and sweat, mixed in perfect musky harmony. I licked them all over, to pass the time, tasting the salty bite of the toe and arch areas. I was so engaged in doing this, that I didn't realize the car had stopped.

Dan lifted the trunk lid and laughed out loud when he saw me with his Adidas running shoe in my hand. "Jeez - you can't get enough of my feet, can you?", he laughed, "Get out dog."

We went into Dan's house, which he shared with a lodger called James. Dan led me to the sitting room and sat down on a tan leather sofa. I remained standing.

" Right then", Dan chuckled, "new rules. Number 1 - I am now your god. You belong to me and to my feet. Anything I say is law to you, got it?" I nodded dumbly. "Good dog. Number 2 - I am now 100% owner of our business.

We'll transfer the assets tomorrow. As of now you work for me, but you won't be getting paid with money. If I deem you have worked well, you will be allowed to lick my shoes, socks, or feet as a reward. Number 3 – James will now be moving out, I won't need the rent he pays any more, you will move in to better serve me. I will require you to cook my meals, clean the house, do my laundry and anything else I choose. Finally number 4 -

You will not tell anyone about your new life. If you disobey me, I will publish my little home videos and you will be ruined. Understand?"

The enormity of this was almost too much. Only an hour before, I was the successful partner of a small business, with a secret fetish. Now I was nothing - less than nothing. Still, I accepted - what else could I do? I couldn't believe how quickly Dan had assumed this new masterful role, maybe this is what he wanted too?

" Lie on the floor", ordered Dan. As I lay down, he stood up. He towered above me like a god-man, staring down at his new belonging. My eyes followed the line of his body, from his worn Caterpillar boots, up his powerful, jean-clad legs to his narrow waist. From here his body widened to his shoulders. Dan spent a lot of time improving his physique, which led to a perfect Y-shaped body with broad shoulders and a thick, muscular neck, atop which was his perfect head with powerful chin, narrow nose and hooded brown eyes under his dark tousled hair. His lips were now twisted into a slightly cruel smile. He lifted his boot, placed it on my face.

" Lick!", he commanded, as everything went dark. I hesitated slightly – the last time I would ever do this - and he pressed further into my face with his boot.

" You are a maggot", Dan said, "You are less than a maggot, I'd give more thought to crushing a bug than crushing you. I will have no problems in stomping the life out of you - extinguishing your existence beneath my powerful feet. NOW LICK!!" As I stuck out my tongue, I heard a crack and felt a searing pain as my nose broke beneath Dan's boot.

Blood flowed down my face, but I continued until Dan was happy. I then had to clean up the mess my blood had made on his polished, wooden floor and thank him for teaching me a valuable lesson.

And so my new life began. Dan really is my Master now and I belong to him. I have nothing else in my life apart from serving Him and His royal feet.

Now, in the mornings I wake Dan by gently licking or kissing the soles of His feet. I have already have laid out His clothes and prepared His breakfast. After His morning shower, and while He eats, I clean His shoes with my tongue. When He is satisfied with the job, I gently place His shoes on His majestic feet and drive Him to work. I do my work throughout the day, and drive Dan home.

I enter the house first and lay down on the floor for Him to wipe the dirt from His shoes, after which I cook His dinner. While He eats, I remove His shoes and massage His wide size 11 feet. After dinner Dan relaxes on the sofa and watches TV or reads.

I am then allowed to remove His socks, and lick His perfect, soft soles - up and around His high arches and between His long toes. Truth be told, I have grown quite addicted to the taste of His feet and once, when Master Dan punished me by refusing to allow me to lick His feet, I begged so much that I agreed to sell my house and give Him the proceeds. If you've never tasted another guy's foot, you probably won't understand. There is nothing quite like the taste of the male foot. The foot's natural heat, plus being confined in shoes and socks all day gives it a salty, slightly acerbic flavour.

The anticipation is built by removing the shoe and basking in the pungent warm aroma. Remove His black, sheer sock - now somewhat clammy from the day's sweat and set it aside as if it's part of the Crown Jewels. Then start cleaning His feet. Gently working with your teeth on areas of hard skin gives great satisfaction and there's no better reward for me than when His toes curl, His foot recoils in pleasure, or He jams the heel or ball of His foot into my face while I'm working. I take a long time over each foot, and make sure that all toejam and sock fluff are removed--particularly from between His toes and along His perfectly pedicured toenails.

When Master Dan has tired of using me as His foot bath, I am allowed to assume my position on the floor as His footstool. During this time I am ordered to raise, or lower, myself as He wishes. When He goes to bed, I am allowed to eat and then must prepare everything for the following day.

Occasionally, when I do not obey as quickly as I should, Master Dan stomps on me with His boots or kicks me in the face, and I thank Him for this. Master often goes out for evenings, He has a girlfriend and I wait at home for Him - watching the clock until He returns. He never leaves me with nothing to do when He's out though - I always have His shoes to clean and often He leaves me with one of his sweaty, work-out socks to suck on until He returns.

If He has been drinking, He will often humiliate me by making me lick His toes in front of His friends (people who were, until recently, my friends too - so much for rule 4!) Each night I sleep on the floor by. His bed like a floor mat. I often hope He will need the bathroom during the night so that He will have to step on me, making me feel useful to Him. To many people, this would sound like a terrible existence, but to me--this is what I had dreamed about for years. I am now finally Master Dan's humble slave.

My dream has come true and I know where I should spend the rest of my life.