by Soul Tickler
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First chapter is 100% pure facts! The rest is how it could have been.
Chapter 1
ADDICTED TO MATT'S WIDE FEET
Matt and I had been friends since I can remember. Same neighborhood, same school. Well, not best buds, but friends indeed. Both of us quite build, him still being the big guy, the athlete, not too smart, sometimes irritating the rest of us with his cockiness. Me, on the other hand, being the smart one, the one who would at times take advantage of this cockiness to make a complete fool of him! What I couldn't have known then was the reason behind such a behavior. Nor how things would end.
At the age of fifteen, when every normal boy's interest moves from friends to girls, Matt's included, mine kept stuck on boys, even on their feet lately. Yeah, I know. How weird can that be! Still, whenever a schoolmate changed his socks on the locker room, I would be there. Whenever at beach, I couldn't help it staring at my own pals' bare soles and cute little toes (did I just write "cute"? Fuck...). For a long time I have been masturbating thinking of nothing special, just pleasuring myself. Then one summer all that changed. Pictures of feet suddenly popped in my head, entered my fantasies: male feet, bare feet, wide feet soon became an obsession to me, one specific pair being the most frequent: Matt's.
The winter after, I came with a plan. Having gathered the amount of money needed, I bought the best 2megapixel camera I could find (have in mind this was about eight years ago). The plan was simple. Matt was known from sleepovers to be a heavy sleeper. All I had to do now was wait for the chance. And a chance it was!
Matt and I were going to sleep over Doug's house that Saturday, his folks gone for the weekend. The three of us watched a movie, played cards, chatting over and over while drinking a bottle of whiskey we found, finally decided to get some sleep, Doug at his own bedroom, me on his parents king size bed (too bad I used it so little) and Matt on a couch by the kitchen.
At 5.00 a.m., the two of them sleeping soundly, I grabbed my bag, took out the brand new camera and headed to where Matt was. The window shades not fully closed, light from nighttime street activity allowed me to see.
I snapped a shot of him in clothes and shoes on, just to warm up. Then came the good part. Kneeling before his feet, shaking like a leaf from the rush of the experience, I slid one shoe off, checking the whole time in case he wakes. His socks were white and thick, making his wide foot look even wider. I knew he preferred white ones. Sliding off the other shoe, my heart beating fast, I breathed one deep sniff. Fuck, what an odor! Nothing stinky. Just manly. I got up and rushed to the bathroom, grabbed a few tissues and shot my load into them, then cleaned up.
With newfound confidence I returned and snapped a second shot. Pure lust making me feel dizzy now, I peeled one sock off. Sweet Mother Nature! For a moment I was staring what could have been a fine piece of art, still a cocky young man's bare sole: his extra big toe, the gap between that and the second one, the round heel, the curve of the sole, that little bit of roughness around the edge. I snapped a third shot. Then a forth. I peeled off the other sock. A fifth one.
Nine shots after I decided not to push my luck any further and put the camera back in my bag. Just as I was about to leave, Matt woke up.
"What is it?" he asked being half awake.
"Heading to the kitchen for some water" I lied.
"Mmmm," he murmured, and then looking down at his bare soles, "Why are my feet bare?! This explains feeling cold down there... still... when did I take the socks off? I never do..."
"And how the hell should I know?" I replied in a convincing way. "Feeling cold, then put them back on!" said while heading to the kitchen.
"Yeah, ok... You know what? At 7.30 I have to wake up. Can you please have that in mind in case I don't hear the alarm? You know what a heavy sleeper I am."
"Got it."
"Damn, we shouldn't have slept that late... I shouldn't have drunk that much..." heard him complaining while on my way to the king size bed waiting.
So his alarm would ring at 7.30. Mine did at 7.15.
Matt was sleeping, his thick white socks back on, and having a morning hard on. I deactivated the alarm. Then it was for something out of plan. Something for the sake of a teenage cock pleading for attention! Taking deep breaths among each button, I unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his boxers down a bit for an uncut cock to appear. Slowly then, with just two fingers pulled back the skin to see his dickhead, as if opening a present. A great one!
Losing no time I snapped one tenth and final shot, pulled his boxers up, smiling at a yellow stain on the fabric, then put the camera away. Time was 7.30. Didn't mind about the jeans.
"Wakee, wakee!” then trying to sound surprised, "Hey! What do we have here? Having your jeans down, what were you up to, dude?"
Half asleep and fully ashamed for being caught as he thought, he buttoned up, and then put his shoes on. Ten minutes later he was gone and I was finally to sleep with no more interruptions, thinking of all that took place, a big smile on my face. Later at home I created a folder on my PC. Named it Matt's Wide Soles.
Must inform you at this point: striping a heavy sleeper's feet off the socks then sniff while snapping shots CAN BE ATTICTIVE. Had I talked about the times I creamed just looking at those pics, this story would take like forever to write! Had I talked of all the sleepovers to Matt's place, could still be a 300pages book! Let's just say that by the time we left for college (us that is, not Matt), what started, as ten pics had become one nice collection of jerk-off material, a collection of memories to cream about while being abroad.
Five years that was. Five years being apart, me creaming over and over the same pics of his wide soles, having few news of him, having no fresh shots. Five years after, the story was about to be repeated. Hadn't something gone wrong that is.
Chapter 2
THE NIGHT I BECAME A FOOTSLAVE
Heard that Matt had now been working as a waiter at a bar and decided to pass by. Entering the bar, there he was. Still sexy, still the big guy, still Matt, now only bigger, wider. Could those babies he’s standing on had become any wider by now? I instantly wondered. Size 12s as I later found out. Matt was really friendly that night, talking all night long, buying me drinks and stuff. He was happy to see me, I could tell.
"Wanna continue at my place?" he asked, his shift now over. "Living on my own now, we could keep chatting for the rest of the night."
That was all I needed to hear. Without my favorite camera, still with a 5megapixel mobile and ready to add some nice shots to my collection, I accepted his offer. Knowing it wouldn't take long for my heavy sleeper to fall out cold once again, tired from working and having drunk that much. And right I was. Minutes after arriving to his place, I could hear the snoring. Or was that music? Music to my ears, that is. How long have I been waiting for this very moment?
Kneeling before his soles I slide one shoe off to reveal his beautiful black-socked foot. Black socks for tonight so it is. Sliding the other one too, I took a deep sniff. Intoxicating! Pictures of feet now popping in my head: male feet, bare feet, and wide feet. My schoolmates' feet while changing socks. My pals' bare soles and cute toes. Every inch of round heel now seemed to have it’s meaning. Lost in a world where everything made sense (!), the thrill of actually being down at Matt's beefy soles after so long absorbing me, when all of the sudden I heard a male voice.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Matt, who used to be a heavy sleeper, was the one to wake me from a dream thought come true, to the cruel reality of a fucked up situation I had now put myself into. I froze. Matt being cocky but in a different way than usual, dominating, asking once more, demanding for an answer and an answer there was, still not one I could just spill out.
"So you're a fag, right? Well here's something we haven't talked about! Reminding me now of all those sleepovers I have woken up barefoot after, wondering how the hell that happened, still unable to make the pieces fit. I believe they do now! Isn't that it? So you're one kinky faggot!" said once more, as if coming to a conclusion at last.
My face turning red, so close to tears, "I have this thing for male feet" I finally murmured, "and."
"Go on" he said, putting his big socked toe under my jaw, lifting my head, as if for our eyes to have full contact.
"Well, particularly yours." I admitted. Humiliated, still sort of relieved from a secret kept for years, from a part of me kept hidden and suppressed. That part of me wanting to not make fool out of Matt but worship him. Humiliated, still searching for excuses no more.
"Thing is, having a thing for my feet may not be that bad after all!" he made a jock out of it. "Standing on them all night at work, I'd enjoy a foot massage. You know they're killing me as we speak! How about that?"
I hesitated. "Listen Matt. I'm into feet, I have already admitted that, still I know you since we were kids and this situation now makes me feel awkward. Think I should go."
"Well I don't!" he stopped me. "Just look at you pal! Kneeling before those dogs of mine, drooling looks like something you cannot pass by. Cause if you could, then wouldn't you? You were sniffing my damp socks for Christ's sake!"
"But..."
"Don't you ever dare to speak again without permission. Seems to me you're in need of a Master and your Master I will be" his commanding tone making me wanna surrender to him, forget about second thoughts.
"Now strip!" he ordered and I did, not figuring out what for, just obeying. "See that hard on over there? That precum leaking dick of yours? Well, consider it your signature to an enslavement contract." And what a signature it was! Even compared to Matt having a taste of his new given power, my dick was the one having the best time.
"Remove the damn socks with your teeth, then start worshiping my bare soles,” he ordered.
I did. Licked the soles, nibbled the heels, sniffed in between the toes, then licked the soles once more. After all, that's what I wanted all along.
"Know what? Seeing you like this reminds me of this girl I once had that lived to take care of my every need. She even loved to rub these dogs of mine when tired, which then I thought was weird. Who could tell that a day would come when a friend of mine would actually lick my every inch of sole with his own tongue!" he laughed out loud.
Chapter 3
LIVING FOR MY MASTER: THE EPILOGUE
Six months have passed since that night and my life has completely changed, having now moved in Matt's place as a roommate, well as his slave that is. "Cause life is tough for us singles having no woman, still a man, whether single or not, is always a man and full of needs". He even blackmails me now with a tape he secretly recorded on the second night we met. "In case you ever get bored of sniffing and licking,” he said, to add a second later "though rather impossible".
Indeed, Matt is a Master one foot slave cannot get bored of.
Sometimes I'll be forced to spend a whole afternoon on the floor in front of the couch while he watches TV. To most people this might does seem boring. To me, though, having those wide bare feet resting on my face, looking enormous from that point of view as if ready to crush me like a bug is more of what I call a dream coming true!
I remember when my parents first visited the apartment, both wondering how two roommates share a one-bedroom house. For them, I admit, it's hard to explain. Truth is, ordered at nights to sleep on the floor next to Master's bed, what to have a second bedroom for? And sleeping on the floor is just one thing. Master believes a slave has to live in orders and rules, or else he'd make choices like any free citizen. Which he's not.
So rules that is. I now have to keep Master's apartment clean, cook for him, wash his clothes and underwear, satisfy his every need. At first, that was like thanking him for letting me near his feet. Later, also to avoid punishment. Finding one morning how ticklish I am, he prohibits me walking barefoot, even made me use some sort of moisture cream for the skin to be as soft as possible. Whenever I fail to a chore, he will now tie me spread eagle to his bed and tickle me from head to toes, well, mostly on the toes. I am now one 24 years old guy with the tootsies of a little boy, the lightest feather pushing me off the limits.
It would only be fair to mention that all these I have accepted. Even to blow him for as long as without a girlfriend. Even the one about being fucked if he ever felt like fucking me. Each and every rule I have accepted to remain at his feet.
Hell, do I want to!
Hadn't been for that night, hadn't I been caught sniffing his damn socks, I would never dare to admit it. Now it's all I live for. For that kid I once used to make a fool of and now worship. The scent of his feet, having been standing on his shoes and serving drinks, or after a match with his teammates at weekends. For massaging those feet, making them feel good. That's what I live for.
"We all knew you were the smart one since we were kids" he often laughs about it, "and lusting over my feet a smart choice it surely was. Cause these dogs of mine crave for a foot slave’s attention 24 hours a day, 7 days a week". Yesterday, coming back from the field, he brought two of his teammates home. Four new soles for me to worship that were. Caught by surprise at first, feeling a discomfort, still I faithfully obeyed. It's about time I meet the rest of the team, he later told me.
THE END (a happy one, wasn't it?)
First attempt at writing a story. Feel free to share an opinion at soul_tickler@yahoo.com
