Every day, I feel lucky enough to wake up to my handsome boyfriend, Bradley. He’s Caucasian, 6ft tall, beautiful black hair, with a swimmer’s body, and size 12 feet. I am not too shabby myself, though I would never boast about it. I’m Josh. I am 5’11’, a mix of Chinese and Hispanic (It’s a good mix, trust me), with black hair, and a slim body with 11 ½ sized feet. From the get go of my sexual awakening, I have always been into feet. Prior to Brad, I would always hook up with guys from the internet who wanted a foot slave. Nothing stiffed me more than being on a leash and being forced to sniff some guy’s smelly sheer socked feet. Dress socks were what really got me going.

The sad part about this was that I was oh so ashamed by this. It wasn’t because of the social taboo of it all, that didn’t bug me. During the first few months of our courting, Bradley had mentioned once during a discussion of what our sexual interests are, that he was not a fan of feet whatsoever. I quickly pulled back as I was just about to mention my fetish for dress socked feet. Everything was perfect with this guy, and I felt very compatible literally in every way except my fetish. We dabbled in many kinks that I was interested in. He would tie me up, or we would even do the zentai fetish that I had. Everything about this guy was great, so I was curious if he would be open to the foot slave deal, even though he previously mentioned he hates feet.

Two years down the road, we are as happy as ever. Sometimes though, I do have to find a place to sneak off and jerk it to some foot slave porn. Sometimes, I’ll take a little longer in the bathroom, or admittedly, I’ll rush to the bathroom at work when I’m a little too horned up. As most guys know though, sometimes porn just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes you want the real thing. Sometimes had now turned into all the time though, and I was getting giddy to try this fetish once more. I now figured this was a big part of who I am sexually, and that I should be able to express it. I wasn’t going to cheat on him ever, so I figured I might as well tell him when he comes home from work.

I put on a sexy pair of sheer underwear that Brad enjoyed seeing me in and pulled on my knee high sheer socks. I loved wearing dress socks while being the foot slave to a guy also wearing the same kind of socks. I sat down on our couch anxiously waiting for Brad to open the door. He worked in a law firm doing the accounts payable, so he would always wear a slick suit, and some delicious looking sheer socks, so I knew he was going to look already hott coming through the door.

The door opened and Brad stood in the hallway. He slowly stepped in, closed the door behind him and stood there. He had a silver coat and slacks on, with a black shirt and grey tie. His dress shoes were shiny black leather, and it looked as if he just got them shined. Peeking out just a bit were his grey sheer socks. My eyes always darted towards the socks with anyone I met. I wonder if anyone had ever noticed. When my eyes finally removed themselves from his socks, I noticed he had a brown bag in his right hand. Maybe it was take-out? I wasn’t too sure. At this point, he had been standing at the door way for a long time. He had a pensive look on his face. I was wondering if I had done something wrong.

“Why aren’t my shoes off yet?” he asked. I was very confused by the questions. “What do you mean babe?” I asked. “No, no, no babe bullshit, answer my question slave” he demanded. I chuckled for a second out of mere confusion. What was he even talking about? What he actually demanding that I take off his shoes for him? Did he just call me slave? “Don’t play fucking stupid. I’ve been looking in your phone history that past week, and I’ve seen all the degrading foot slave porn you whack off to. I don’t want my slave jerking off to that shit anymore, so crawl over here and take off my shoes” he shouted.

My heart began to pound. I could feel my sweat glands opening and nervousness settled in. A tingling began in my crotch and my erect cock began to rise and stretch out the sheer fabric of my undies. I began to crawl over to him, and admittedly, the humiliation of it all was extremely arousing. I made my way over to his shoes and looked up at him. Instantly, he smacked me in the face. “Don’t look up at me, unless I direct you to do so, understand?” he commanded. I nodded my head and said “Yes Sir”.

This was all becoming a blur to me. Was this really happening? “Now Slave” he said. “I want you to kiss both of my shoes each 5 times, and then take them off and put them beside my feet.” I did as I was told. I kissed each expensive dress shoe 5 times each and then slowly slipped off his left shoe, and then the other one. I set aside his shoes and glared at his amazing socked feet. They were completely sheer. His perfectly arched feet hugged the tight fabric and his nicely groomed nails looked so delicious as they almost looked like they were about to pop out by the way they stretched the sheer. He wiggled his toes a little and a strong aroma of sweat and a long work day began to sweep around my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled, knowing damn well I looked like a pathetic pervert. I didn’t mind though. This is what I had wanted to do for quite some time, and it was like a dream that the man I loved was giving me this pleasure.

I was totally lost in the moment when I heard a loud thud hit the floor next to me. Sir dropped the brown bag in his hand and motioned me to pull out what was in it. “Go ahead slave. It’s a present. Something you are going to have to wear every time we are indoors.” I reached in the bag and pulled out a personalized collar with my name on it, and a chain leash. “You are only required to wear the leash when I walk you around the apartment, but the collar MUST be on at all times. Understand?” said Sir. I said Yes Sir and put on the collar.

For the next hour or so, I was on the floor massaging my Master’s feet as he lay on the couch. His feet were so soft already, but even more so with the sheer socks. It was torture, because Master said I could only touch. I was not allowed to lick, suck, or anything else, but massage with my hands only. I desperately wanted to push my face into both of his socked feet and just inhale for hours. Master said I had to earn that though.

During this hour massage, Master laid down the ground rules of what was to be my life staring from this day forward. Every day when Master came home, I was to be waiting at the door with my collar on, ready to take off his shoes and socks if requested. Earlier on in the day, he will text me what he wants made for dinner, and what drink should be ready on the dining room table for his arrival. He will eat first at the table, and I will eat last while he watches TV. My dinner will be in a bowl next to his feet. Sleeping on the bed will be a privilege now, and if I don’t earn it, I will be chained in the closet with a pillow made out of his dirty dress socks. Master mentioned that outside of the house, we will appear to still be a very normal couple. He said that only a few minor changes. He said I will always walk a step behind him, as he will be leading the way. I must now open any doors for him, whether we are going to dinner or if I’m just getting him out of the car. Lastly, Master is allowed a foot massage at any given moment, and anywhere he sees fit, even in public.

Master finished laying out the ground rules and told me that more would come. He tugged on my leash and dragged my face closer to his. He gave me a quick peck, and then pushed me down to his feet and told me to worship. He told me I only had 2 minutes to show him how good of a slave I was, and if I failed, I would be punished. I instantly began slobbering over his feet like a hungry dog. I licked quickly and a lot. I was devoting my life to his left foot as his right socked foot glided up and down my back and up to my head. His sheer socks were drenched in my saliva, and my mouth was drying up quickly. He pushed my head up and spat in my mouth, and said “Make sure my socks are nice and clean, bitch.” Time was up before I even knew it.

Master kicked me down onto the floor and observed his damp socks. He looked upset, more upset than I had ever seen my boyfriend, er, I mean Master. “You failed boy” he said sternly. “They aren’t evenly damp. You will be punished for this”.

That evening, he pushed me into the closet chained up with some chains he picked up from the home depot. He forced me to wear a pair of black pantyhose and chained up my ankles and wrists and gagged me with the socks I so desperately tried to moisten for him. I was humiliated. Master said he was having friends over, and didn’t want me to disturb. If I made so much as a peep, he would come in here and smack me around some more. I had one last job, and it had to be performed in the morning, or else I would be “severely punished”.

Master wanted me to wake up, crawl my way over to the edge of the bed, and lick his feet to wake him up, If I didn’t have this achieved by 7:30AM, he was going to humiliate me “In ways I could never imagine”.

TO BE CONTINUED