by Henry
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I walked up the long drive that was at the foot of this huge house.
It was my dad's friend's house, he was really wealthy and apparently had a lot of power where my dad worked. Every time I seen him, he had another blond girl holding his hand, he was one of them middle age, good looking guys, that could get any young, pretty girl because of his money, and his looks. He was called Michael or Mike.
Because he had an expensive house with a lot of valuable things in he needed someone to look after it all day while he was at work.
That's where I come in. I'd just left high school and looking for a summer job, my dad had said I'd look after his house. It wasn't my ideal summer job, but this guy would be paying me good, and I might get to have a sniff of some of his tennis socks while he's at work all day.
Anyway, I rang the doorbell and Mike appeared, wearing a bath robe and sandals, he had probably just been in his swimming pool or something, his feet looked great, tanned, soft and really looked after.
"Hi, you must be Richard!" He said
"Richie, please."
"OK, well come on in Richie"
His smile was great.
"So," He said, "Should I give you a tour?"
"Yes please."
As we walked round the house, I wasn't paying attention to the rooms, I had my eyes fixed on his powerful feet, quickly looking away every time he turned to look at me.
We eventually finished the tour&Mac226; and sat down in the lounge. He told me what I'd be getting paid and handed me a piece of paper with phone numbers in case of an emergency. We talked about everything and anything for about 2 hours or so, when we were talking I started to get the impression that he was much higher and better than me and my family, and I was nothing more than trash at his masculine feet.
I started the next day.
When I arrived, he was on his way out to work. We talked for a second then he was in his Porsche and away to work.
I sat watching his TV --more like a cinema screen -- for a couple of hours when I got bored. I wandered around the house. I came to his bedroom. No sweaty socks or boxer shorts or anything. So I went to the laundry room. I found some of his sweaty, dirty white socks in a basket; I picked them up and inhaled this god's foot odor. Heaven. I unzipped my jeans and started to get to work, I put my whole face inside the basket of dirty clothes and underwear. It only seemed a couple of seconds, when I shot my load all over the tiled floor. I stayed in that position for about 10 minutes or so, my face lost in socks, and dirty clothes.
He came home soon after, I'd cleaned up everything by now. He thanked me, gave me my money and told me to be here the same time tommorrow.
I turned up the next day and he was already out of the door, he was in a real rush and was checking his pockets to see if he'd remembered everything, he got in his Porsche and he was away before I could even say Hi!
I went straight for the laundry and repeated the same thing as the day before.
When he got home he kicked of his shoes and asked if everything was all right, it was. His socks were black, and the looked really sweaty, I could see a vapor coming of the top of them both, just the way I like them.
"God, what a hard day!" he said as he sat down. He started rubbing his hot, aching feet.
He put his two big feet up on the table and wiggled his toes.
"You wouldn't mind giving a hard working man a foot massage would you?"
He laughed, like it was a joke.
"OK," I said quickly.
I hadn't thought about what I said. He looked at me strangely and said, "Really?"
"Yes, I learned a bit of foot therapy from school." I never did really.
"Go on then!"
I got on my knees and crawled to his sweaty feet. They seemed much bigger when my face was up close to them. I started rubbing his powerful feet. He laid back and closed his eyes while his foot slave&Mac226; worked on his feet. I wanted his bare feet so I told him it works better if he took of his ripe socks. He nodded his head. He never made any movement to take them off so I took one off for him, having a good sniff of it while his eyes were closed. Fresh sweat.
"What are you doing?" He said abruptly.
"Errrmmm, I was, ehh..." I couldn't make up an excuse, he was looking straight at me. I was holding his stinking socks to my nose. I felt about a centimeter tall as he looked at me between his feet.
"SO!!"
"I was..." I stuttered.
"Shut up, you're pathetic, sniffing my feet! Do you like the smell of my feet you pig?"
"I was..."
He cut me off. I must of looked pathetic kneeling at his feet with a raging hard on.
"If you like the smell of my feet why don't you sniff them then like the pig you are, go on sniff em!" His voice was getting louder and more abrupt.
I leant forward and took a huge sniff of his hot, tanned feet. He pushed his feet into my face, he started laughing at me. One of his socks were still on, so his foot sweat was been spread all over my face.
"LICK THAT SOCK PIG," He roared.
I licked the length of his sweaty sock, it tasted salty, but I liked it.
"Now take it off, with your mouth, hahahahah!"
At this point I started to feel really humiliated at this guy's feet. I bit the end of the sock and pulled it off quickly. He then ordered me to suck on his big toe. I sucked and sucked on his toe, all the time he was laughing at me under his breath. I had licked the sole of his foot clean by now, and licked the pieces of wool from in between his toes.
I was still worshipping his feet, when he kicked me in the face, I fell back on the floor, the next thing I knew, a big foot was coming down onto my face. He stepped onto my face with one foot and the other was on my chest. My face was been crushed under his huge foot. I felt like an insect been crushed to death by a bare footed man. I was the victim.
After a while he got off my face and stood over me, he started laughing at his slave.
"Get up you pig!" He shouted.
I obeyed my master and stood up, my face was sore from the stomping.
"How&Mac226;dya like that pig?"
"I liked it."
He laughed at me.
He looked down at his feet and said, "My toenails seem to be growing faster these days." I looked down at them -- they were a bit long for a guy. He sat back down in his chair and raised his feet; I pulled up the coffee table for his feet to rest on.
"Chew on them toenails until they're the length they should be!"
He switched on the TV and started watching it. He just left me to nibble his toenails, occasionally he would say, "Lick them feet."
I would obey and make his feet wet with my saliva. He seemed pleased with his foot service. He kicked back the coffee table and raised his feet, I knew what he meant, I crawled under his feet, and acted as his footstool for the rest of the night, licking his feet when he ordered.
It was really late by now so I had to go. He paid me extra that night, and asked me if I could be his personal footboy. He had a lot more fun with me, and so did some of his friends...
