by Man123L
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As I was lying on my back on the floor smelling Keith’s feet, Keith had to think how to humiliate me at school because soon we had to leave for school.
Keith was a mastermind when it came to humiliation and domination of someone else-he came up with the idea that I carry his books. I told Keith that sounds fine, maybe I thought to myself he will let me off easy (no chance). Oh one other thing he said, the twist to carrying my books- on top of my books will be my wrestling shoes, and inside them will be my raunchy week old socks that I forgot to wash and the best part is I will place those filthy socks underneath your nose so you can smell that aroma all the time as I parade you around school and show everyone that you belong to me. This lasted for about a week until he saw that it was wearing me down, Keith would also have me come to his wrestling bouts and service his feet, by massaging them and if he had extra sweaty feet he would place his clad sock in my face and demand that I smell all the sweat from his socks, he liked having a human air conditioner on his hot feet.
Keith also demanded that I follow him to the football field and service his feet that would need TLC during halftime. When the game was over I started to go home, that is until I heard Keith’s voice from behind me (in a commanding tone) asking me where the hell I thought I was going. I told him, that the game is over so I thought… STOP!!! Said Keith what did I tell you about thinking, now you follow me back to the locker room, there are some guys that want to meet you. I walked behind Keith going to the locker room (I walked with my head hung low, and if it was the last mile).
When I reached the locker room I saw 3 guys waiting for me and they were built like brick houses. One of them got to his feet and spoke, we have been waiting for you-slave or should I say foot slave, our friend Keith here told us all about your so called special qualities/services that you provide and me and the guys here would like to try you out. First said one of the guys we cannot be seen in public with dirty cleats boy, so why don’t you use your tongue on our cleats to get them nice and clean, after 45minutes of licking the cleats clean I presented the cleats to the guys for approval and I was told I did a satisfactory job, not good but satisfactory, then before I knew it 3 pairs of stocking feet were in my face (6 feet) Any fresh air was filtered through the socks of these football players, they were enjoying seeing me struggle underneath their stocking feet trying to get a whiff of clean air, they mustn’t have washed their socks in several days, according to the stench that leaked out from them onto my face.
After 20 minutes of licking the socks clean and purifying them with my breathing I was given a sort of reprieve and told to get ready for the best thing I had seen in a long time (6 bare feet). The guys laughed as they knew the hell they were going to put me through. The bare feet of the 3 guys must have been sizes 11-13, and the smell was rancid, I tried to hold my breath, but when I had to breathe I ended up taking deeper breaths and the guys took full advantage of this catch-22 that I was in and purposefully placed the bare feet under my nostrils so I would get the full affect of their foot stench.
Then the guys thought it would be funny if a foot slave (me) licked the toe jam from in-between their nasty toes, as they sat back and enjoyed the service making fun of me all the way. Then Keith came back from his little adventure and asked the guys if I did a good job serving them. The guys enjoyed having me at their feet, and Keith looked at me with that Icy stare of his and told me I was very lucky that his team mates enjoyed my services, now he would not need to beat my ass. He almost seemed disappointed, but I was happy not to get beaten by this powerful God. Keith said that I came a long way since the day he first met me in the weight room, and a couple more days of training I would be ready for his brother Jim.
I was told by Keith to see him around 6pm the next day at his house. I arrived at Keith’s house at 5:58pm; you never wanted to arrive late (later than he ordered you to) or your ass would be grass and as he always said he was the lawn mower. When I saw Keith he was barefoot on a lawn chair in the front yard with his girlfriend. Oh, he said I almost forgot I had a date today with my lovely girlfriend, can you come back over say 7:30pm and we can spend some time together. The entire time he was saying this he was flexing his barefoot and wiggling his toes, knowing that it was tearing me up inside-he must have been laughing to him and thinking that he has this fag by the balls and just grinning inwardly.
I departed the house knowing that I had to come back later for Keith’s enjoyment. When I looked back I noticed that Keith and his brother Jim was looking wound up for 7:30 to come around. That could not be a good thing for me, but I should not worry about it I had 45 minutes of freedom to enjoy, before my servitude to Keith started. At 7:29 pm. I arrived at Keith’s house, the door opened and there before me stood Keith himself. You are shaving it close aren’t you faggot, he said.
As soon as I entered the house I was abruptly bitch slapped, looking confused Keith reminded me that when I am in his presence my place is at his feet and my lips should make a sucking sound on his feet. He told me that he was eating dinner and I should lie on the floor and suck the crap from between his beefy toes that was to be my dinner-he asked if I had any complaints. I just shook my head NO because I was not given the proper permission to speak. I did not think you would dare complain, you have learned who is your DADDY it took a few beatings from me but the important thing is that you know and have learned.
Now get under the table and start licking my feet boy. I answered YES SIR, RIGHT AWAY MASTER KEITH. Master Keith sat back and enjoyed his dinner as I sucked the crap from in-between his toes. He kept kicking me in the face telling me to “savor the flavor” as he put it. When he was done with his dinner he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor space in front of the couch, I got from under the table and started to get up so I could hurry over by the couch. All of a sudden I feel a sharp pain on my back-it was Keith’s foot pinning me to the floor. Keith spoke what the hell do you think that you are doing bitch? I told him that I was getting up to go over by the couch so that I could service his feet there.
Oh hell no, said Keith you are not going to walk over by the couch you are going to crawl over to the couch, now I need to think a proper punishment for you so that you will never forget that your place is on the ground like an animal on our rug/ground where the feet of a God must touch. I know, said Jim kick him in the ass, and to put a little twist to the punishment Kick him in the ass with your football cleats. I can go one better said Keith I will kick him in the ass with my football cleats, but I will also draw an outline of a football on his shorts and make him wear them, then it is kick off time, I will take aim and kick him as hard as I can until he has a ruby red ass I will not stop kicking him until he begs and pleads for me to stop kicking him then and only then will I show mercy.
To say that I remembered my place on the floor from then on was an understatement. I got in place under the couch so I could service Keith’s feet properly. Keith had worn the same socks for several days and they were so soiled you could actually see the outline of his foot, but if you think I was going to complain to this God about him having dirty socks, you must be kidding, he could break me in too for wasting his valuable time and reminding him about such insignificant things, I mean that is why he had me as his foot slave to clean his dirty cleats/socks and feet.
While I was laying there by his stocking feet, he held his foot just above my face and had me beg to smell his heavenly aroma that his sweaty feet made, the socks were wet with sweat and clung to his feet as he looked right in my eyes and asked me a rhetorical question he asked me how his sweaty feet smell? Now boy, suck all that sweat out of my manly socks …as he stuffed his stocking and soiled foot in my mouth.
