Master Dave took me by the shirt collar and led me out onto the apartment's balcony. "You're going to worship my feet out here and I don't care who sees it," he said. Master Dave sat down on the balcony floor and ordered me to do the same. He put his white and red Nike running shoes in my lap and said, "show your God some respect and lick these clean." I did as he ordered and licked the dirt and the dust from his sexy running shoes. His shoes were Shox so I had to reach my tongue as far as I could into the springs/coils on the bottom of his shoes. I licked and kissed the treads of his shoes until Evey crack and crevice was cleaned by tongue. He patted me on the head and said, "good boy, now get your nose in there really close so you can take them off."

I untied and peeled Master Dave's shoes off while trying to shove my nose as close to the warm stink as I could. He was wearing tall black Nike athletic socks that I couldn't wait to taste. After taking deep inhalations from his running shoes he kicked me in the face a little with his dark athletic socked feet and said, "worship!" I licked the socks from heel to toe. I focused especially on the toe area of his socks where they were crusty and bitter tasting. It was my tongue's job to soften his crusty socks up. I passionately kissed and licked the stinkiest, crustiest parts of his socks before realizing a few landscapers were watching and one even pointed at us.

I continued to worship at Master Dave's direction. He didn't want me to stop. He directed me to peel his socks off and worship his feet as well. I peeled his socks off and lapped and licked up all the sock fuzz from his sweaty, sour, tired feet. I licked them completely clean and then some. Master Dave was enjoying the foot worship so much that he was masturbating again. Neither one of us noticed that the leasing agent was back in the apartment. We heard a tapping on the sliding glass door. I immediately stopped worshipping and froze in my tracks. Master Dave gave me a good kick and said, "did I tell you to stop!?" I nervously continued.

The leasing agent was an obvious but not overly obvious gay man named Kyle. He introduced himself and I could tell he was feeling awkward about the situation but also that it was something that did not surprise him. Kyle was the tallest man I had ever seen in person. Master Dave asked him how tall he was and how big his feet were. Kyle responded, "I'm six foot, eight with size 17 feet." Master Dave had a devious idea, as usual, that would mean more foot worship for me. Master Dave started asking Kyle questions while I continued to worship his feet. He asked, "don't size 17 feet hurt or get really sore after a long day? I bet you could use a massage." Kyle nervously responded and said "actually, yes, they really do. AND I'm intrigued about what's going on here." Master Dave said, "he's my foot slave and he will worship your feet as well if you would like." Kyle responded, "that's kind of weird but my feet are killing me."

Kyle agreed and Master Dave was all the more thrilled to torture me with more stinky feet. Only this time, they were gigantic stinky feet.