by Arthur
Benji crept down my leg, purring obsequious mutterings as he went, praising me far beyond anything I felt I’d ever earned, and certainly far more than I’d ever earned from him. Still, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it; it gave me a sense of superiority, different from anything I’d felt before. I hadn’t bested Benji on the tennis court or the football field, I hadn’t completed any task of which he was incapable. Benji was worshipping me for the simple fact that I existed, because I was naturally better than him. Of course, his worship probably had far more to do with his own view of himself than any innate virtues I possessed unless they were very, very latent. But that didn’t matter in the moment. In the moment I felt like a king receiving homage from a vassal, and I liked it.
Benji had now reached my boots, planted a kiss on each one, and was gazing up at me. The green eyes really were very striking. They seemed to sparkle with anticipation, and the way his hair flopped gracefully on his forehead was artful. With that lean body and cute face, the only way I could really describe him was ‘my type’. Shame. Benji seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so I did: ‘continue’. Benji didn’t need telling twice. He gripped the heel of my boot with his left hand, the toe with the right, and gently, almost lovingly, eased my right boot from my foot, revealing a pair of embarrassingly out of season Christmas socks, complete with reindeer and snowflakes. I grinned at him and said ‘ho ho ho,’ in a voice that even then I thought brought me no credit. To my relief, Benji grinned back, but didn’t say anything. I was glad; I didn’t want Benji to judge my socks. Perhaps I was still subconsciously annoyed about him judging my boat shoes earlier. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.
Benji paused with my boot in his hand. He shot a look at me and asked, almost guiltily, ‘can I smell them please sir?’.
He looked so eager, so earnest, as he knelt at my feet clutching my boot, and I figured this whole thing was mainly for his enjoyment, and I did want him to enjoy it, so I said of course, and favoured him with a full smile. Benji didn’t need to be told twice, he plunged his nose straight into my boot and inhaled deeply. I can only imagine what it must have smelt like. I’d had those boots three years and worn them a lot. Whenever I imagine the smell it’s bad, like cheese, eggs, and sweat all mixed in with something I can never identify. Whatever it smelt like though, Benji seemed to love it. His first inhalation had been followed by two more, so that there can’t have been much oxygen left in the boot. It must have been overpowering. When he came out he was slightly breathless, and seemed almost dizzy, but I’ve never seen anyone with such a wide grin on their face.
‘That’s amazing, sir,’ he gushed, ‘may I experience the other one?’ I couldn’t help but laugh at the word ‘experience’. Skydiving is an experience, Centre Court on finals day at Wimbledon is an experience, meeting Harry Styles (no comments please, I’m a fan, and he’s a God of music) at 3am in a service station on the M4 is an experience, but sniffing my boots? Nah, I couldn’t imagine that as an experience. I felt bad for laughing because Benji looked genuinely crestfallen. I think he thought I wasn’t going to let him ‘experience’ the pungent bouquet of my left boot. Nodding my head graciously towards my left boot, I signalled that he could repeat the process, and he did. My left boot was slid off of my left foot, and brought straight up to Benji’s nose, where the same inhalation sequence was started again. This time he stayed in my boot for longer and came up a bit red in the face. ‘I wish I could bottle that, Sir. I’d use it as an air freshener’.
‘Sure, sure,’ was all I could reply to that, without giggling and losing what little authority Benji had bestowed upon me, but I was glad he was enjoying it. Suddenly I realised that I would have hated it if Benji had seemed to disapprove of my shoes, feet, or smell, and was overcome with a fear of what he might say were he to remove my socks and see my, as previously stated, bang average feet. Not the beautiful feet he had imagined, not the feet of myth and legend, not the feet that launched a thousand ships, not the feet about which Shakespeare wrote his sonnets, and not the feet that Benji must have been hoping to unwrap like a present from under the tree.
‘May I smell your feet directly, sir?’ The question froze me. The idea of Benji’s face being separated from my feet only by thin cotton socks was enough to bring my cock back fully to attention. Imagine the feel of his cheek, maybe even his lips, brushing along my soles, touching my toes, it was suddenly my idea of heaven, but still the fear clung to me.
‘Yes,’ I said slowly, dragging the word out beyond its usual length, ‘but that will be all until you’ve cleaned more shoes.
‘Of course, sir. I wouldn’t want you to think I was slacking in my work,’ came Benji’s swift reply. In an instant, he had thrown his legs back behind him and eased himself flat onto the floor with his arms. He was now where he had wished to be, at eyelevel with my feet. I gazed at the top of his head as he gazed at my feet, the left one crossed over the right. He gently pressed his nose into the sole of the socked foot and drew in a deep breath through his nose. I saw his whole-body shiver with delight as he experienced my feet first hand. First nose? I had showered before he arrived, so they can’t have been that smelly, but just being in the vicinity of them seemed to arouse Benji. His second breath was taken through his mouth, sucking in any whiff of feet that the shower had missed, filling his body with my feet so that nothing inside of him would be left untouched by that air which had touched my feet.
As he was doing this, I noticed his bum for the first time, and it really was the most fabulous bum I ever saw. Tight, peachy, and firm. This was a bum for the ages, and I knew then that I would have to have it.
We’d been in this position for a few minutes, Benji revelling in my feet, and me not quote drooling over his bum, when there was a slight cough from Eric. I jumped at the sound of it, as did Benji, who sprang back onto his knees, revealing his caged cock straining against the limitations of its prison, as precum leaked everywhere. ‘Are we continuing with the shoe cleaning, or should I leave the two of you alone like this?’ Eric asked sardonically. A blush crept into Benji’s cheeks, and he knelt there, still as a statue. I might have forgotten that Eric was there, but I wasn’t going to show it, well not any more than I already had.
‘If you wanted your shoes cleaned, all you had to do was ask,’ I replied cooly. I leant down to Benji had gave him an encouraging push towards where Eric sat. I smiled at him and ruffled his hair as he turned towards Eric’s chair and crawled over to him. When he reached Eric, he stayed on his knees, kissed each of Eric’s stained old converse, then rested his forehead on the floor between them and awaited instructions. Even though this position gave me an amazing view of Benji’s arse, pushed into the air and slightly open, I found I couldn’t enjoy it as much as I would like to because he was over there, with Eric. As close and open with each other as Eric and I had always been, now that it came down to it, I didn’t really want to share Benji with him. My feeling of protective ownership had only grown during the session so far and I now definitely considered Benji ‘mine’. I also didn’t really trust Eric not to push Benji a bit too far, not to hurt him. I knew he was into some rough stuff, and that he enjoyed dominating the girls he brought home, with their consent of course. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to help hurting Benji when Benji was so willing a victim.
It started badly. Eric placed one of his converse at the bottom of Benji’s back, right by his wonderful bum, and then swiped it down the length of Benji’s back, right to the neck. It left a nasty red streak in Benji’s pale flesh, and I heard him gasp in pain, but stay in position. Eric repeated the movement, and then switched feet. As he got ready to wipe his other foot he looked at me and laughed, ‘you’ve gotta wipe your feet on the matt’.
I smiled weakly back, my brow furrowed, ‘yeah, I guess’.
Eric seemed to sense I wasn’t loving this part of the evening. ‘This is your first time in a dom role little bro,’ Eric said encouragingly, as he left another trail of red down Benji’s back, ‘these subs, they like it rough. They like to be dominated, to be hurt. It’s in their nature. Isn’t that right Benj? You’d tell me to stop if you didn’t want me to do this, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes, sir. It’s an honour to serve you and your feet however you want me to,’ Benji said, though I wasn’t too reassured by the tone of his voice.
‘There we are then,’ said Eric as he reached for his whisky and threw it down. ‘Now that I’ve wiped, it’s time for you to clean Benj. Head up, mouth open.’ Benji did as instructed, raising his body into a kneeling position and opening his mouth. Eric placed his left foot on Benji’s right shoulder and placed the tip of his other converse at the opening of Benji’s mouth. ‘Three, two, one’, Eric intoned. On the count of ‘one’ he shoved his right converse into Benji’s mouth. Benji exclaimed something unintelligible, but stayed in position as Eric took his foot out, and back in, out, in, out, in, out, in. He was fucking Benji’s mouth with his shoe, and it was rough. I could see Benji jump in pain every time Eric’s shoe was forced into his mouth and could hear the accompanying sound of pain. I didn’t like it. This isn’t what Benji signed up for, or what I wanted for him. I couldn’t stand watching this.
A few tears leaked from Benji’s emerald eyes, and I could take it no longer. ‘Stop it,’ I cried, as I leapt from my seat, my open trousers falling down around my ankles, and my face flushed with anger. ‘Stop hurting him’.
Eric took his shoe out of Benji’s mouth and rested it on his other shoulder. ‘Why?’ Eric asked, sounding slightly confused. ‘Benj came here to be dominated by two alpha masters and their feet.’ I felt nervous, unsure of whether I had done the right thing. Did Benji prefer the rough treatment meted out to him by Eric? Had he found me too soft? Too inexperienced? Had I just ruined his fun? I stood there, looking absurd, and waved my hands around for no good reason other than my inability to articulate exactly what it was I wanted to say. I had known Eric would treat Benji like this before he arrived. Eric had told me so. I’d laughed with him about it, told him I’d do the same. Eric knew what was required in these scenarios, whereas I’d never done dom/sub play. But when it came to it, I hadn’t wanted to hurt Benji, and I hadn’t wanted to see Eric treat Benji that way. Eric seemed to sense this, and so took his shoes off of Benji’s shoulders. ‘I tell you what, we’ll let Benj show us how he wants to be treated.’ He looked Benji in the eyes of the first time and said, ‘if you want to be dominated and treated roughly, like I know you do, then stay here with me. If you just want to lick some shoes, and smell some socks then crawl back over to my little bro. Totally your choice, but know that once you crawl away from me, there’s no crawling back.’ Eric leant back in his chair, a fresh glass of whisky in his hand, and a confident smirk on his face.
I was still standing there, helpless, desperately hoping that Benji would turn and crawl towards me. I was shocked by how much I wanted him to turn towards me. He didn’t, he just knelt there, and I knew that he’d chosen Eric’s way. But then, slowly, as though it took every bit of willpower he possessed, Benji turned on his knees and started to crawl back to me. I could see his eyes were wet where he’d cried during Eric’s onslaught. Once he reached me, he bent down and kissed my socked feet, then looked up at me. ‘I choose you, sir,’ he said slowly. ‘I wasn’t sure I would, and I fear I’ve given up something special by crawling away from Master Eric, but I want to serve you,’ he continued, still looking directly at me. I blushed slightly and couldn’t look at him. Benji nuzzled my feet; feeling his face push into my soles made my cock soar. I turned my eyes towards Eric, who was still sitting in his chair, looking slightly put out, but by no means upset.
‘Ah well, you win some, you lose some,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I really thought you would have chosen me though Benj. I’m disappointed in you. May my brother’s feet and gentle handling give you much joy, and I hope I won’t live to regret barring you access to mine for all time’.
I stroked Benji’s soft hair absentmindedly, some strokes continuing onto his back or shoulders, and smiled at Eric. ‘If you’ve chosen me then I suppose you’d better see what’s under these socks,’ I told Benji quietly, ‘but don’t blame me if they look more like they belong to the reindeer than to me’. I spoke my fear, and let it hang in the air.
‘They’ll be beautiful because they’re yours,’ Benji replied to me in a soft voice. He needed no further invitation or instruction but lowered his mouth to my socks and began sucking on them. He sucked the toes, he sucked the heel, he planted kisses all over their fabric. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked shyly, while making a gesture which could only mean ‘pants off’. I shook my head to let him know I didn’t, and he freed my jeans from around my ankles, leaving me naked between the hem of my shirt and the tops of my socks. Benji held my leg by the knee and shin, extending it out towards him. He kissed my knee, and then let his mouth wander to my ankle, where he slipped his tongue under the top of my sock and licked a complete circle of my ankle, which caused me to moan slightly, and my cock to leak. He pushed with his tongue so that my sock began to be pulled down. Using his lips and tongue he manoeuvred the sock so that it revealed my heel and half of my foot. After that it was easy, and soon my naked foot was revealed. Benji gazed upon it as others might gaze upon the crown jewels, be they Elizabeth II’s or Zac Efron’s. ‘It’s the most beautiful foot in the world,’ he muttered, and I thought I detected a slight joke in his voice, but not much of one. He genuinely seemed to be in love with my foot. Tentatively, he placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of my foot, then another, and a third, firmer one. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and ran along my foot from ankle to toes, it danced across my toes, dipping into each gap briefly, while Benji closed his eyes, let out moans of pleasure, and seemed to sink into his own personal ecstasy. Next his tongue found its way under my toes and ran the same course upside down, before zipping across my sole, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. Finding his way back to my toes, he took each one in my mouth and sucked them as though trying to extract something. Benji licked thoroughly between each of my toes and planted wet kisses on all surfaces of my feet. I’d never had my feet worshipped before, but I knew then that my first time would definitely not be my last. Benji’s warm, wet mouth felt perfect as it made love to my foot in far more passionate a way than some of my actual lovers had made love to me. It was clear that he was as into this as it was possible for anyone to be.
Eventually he surfaced, though would not release my foot from his hands. His face was flushed, and he was breathless, barely having stopped long enough to draw breath while he worshipped my foot as only a true obsessive could know how. The look of pure, genuine joy etched onto his face is something I will never forget. I remember feeling proud, without any real reason, that I’d been able to give such joy to another human. ‘The other one, sir?’ Benji asked respectfully, placing my bare foot on his back so that it would not touch the ground.
‘Yes, please Benji, yes please,’ I breathed back. It started all over again but felt no less amazing for it being the second time, and Benji did not seem to get any less joy out of it than he had done the first time. When he had finished, Benji placed that foot next to the other, so that both were resting on his back, while he knelt in front of me. We remained like that for a while, me stroking my cock, him on his knees with forehead pressed against the floor, and my feet on his back. I glanced at Eric for the first time since Benji had chosen me. I was surprised to see that he too had his cock out, and was stroking it as well, slow, leisurely strokes. I soon realised why. Eric had cum, it was all over his hand, t-shirt, and jeans. He winked at me, and I felt myself almost cum. I loved that my brother had cum over me having my feet worshipped. Eric stood up, winked again, and left the room. I heard him going upstairs and into his bedroom.
I took my feet off of Benji’s back and told him to kneel up and come as close as he could. Obedient as ever, Benji did just that, so that his face was mere inches away from my throbbing dick. ‘Do you want this?’ I asked, teasingly.
‘Yes sir, of course sir,’ Benji replied, his eyes following the motion of my hand as it pumped at my cock, up and down, up and down, up and down.
‘Then take it,’ I said, knowing that it really wouldn’t take much to make me cum. Benji leapt at the chance, taking my cock into his mouth, and giving me only just enough time to remove my hand. Having Benji’s warm mouth encase my cock was enough to send shivers through my body so that I was pretty much ready to cum the moment it happened. I just managed to hold back, until that is I though the same mouth that was now on my cock had, very recently, been running all over my feet. With that thought, I sent ropes of cum into Benji’s mouth and down his throat but pulled out with enough time to splatter his face with a nice cumshot. I’ve always thought a pretty face was improved no end by a thick streak of cum. I don’t know if it was instinctive, but I suddenly found myself kissing Benji on the lips. I drew back sharply, suddenly realising what I’d done. I couldn’t be falling for this guy. I couldn’t be falling for the guy who cleaned my shoes with his, who was still going to lick some of my shoes clean. It just wasn’t on.
