When I started to explore my foot fetish, I never knew it would go this deep, this extreme. That eventually I would become nothing more than an object for his feet, and just how much I would love every second of it.

A couple years ago I was looking through some profiles on one of the hook up apps, filtering it to try and find someone else interested in feet to mess around with. I stumbled across this one profile with the username of JockFeet and boy did he have gorgeous feet; size 12, nice long toes, well kept and very smooth looking. Most of the pictures were of his soles, where he was sitting with the camera facing the bottoms of his feet. One picture showed off the tops of his feet, which weren't very hairy, just a nice little bit of hair on the very tops near his ankle and a little bit on his toes too. Slightly veiny, you could tell he was on the skinnier side and also worked out. Just my type of perfect feet.

He was 19, in college and only looking for someone to worship his feet, not the other way around. At the time I was 26 and more submissive anyway so didn't have a problem with that. I couldn't tell what he actually looked like since all the pictures he had where of his feet, but from what id already seen, I didn't care, and I needed to be under those beautiful size 12s regardless.

I messaged him, not really expecting to hear anything back. I'm pretty average looking and usually is a hit or miss for me when I interact with these "jock type" profiles, especially in the city I'm in. Countless profiles of nice muscle types, attractive, young, etc.

A couple hours later I eventually check the app again and see a message from him and can feel my pulse quicken a bit, thinking to myself, I might have a chance here. It's your usual introduction and a little back and forth, telling him I'm interested in worshipping this feet, can host, all that stuff. He mentions he's free Friday and I let him know I am as well and we settle on that. For the next couple days his feet are all I can think about. I find myself pulling up the app again and again and getting hard looking at his pictures.

The day finally comes, I message him and give him my address and apartment number, and he says he'll be at my place by 8. Since it's Friday, my roommates have gone out for the night so I have the place to myself and start getting ready. I clean up my room and trim my beard, leaving a bit of stubble, I like the roughness it gives. Plus I had made some plans to go out later on, figuring our session wouldn't take longer than 2 hours. It's almost 8 and I'm pacing back and forth with anticipation, looking at our messages ever minute, waiting for the next one to come through saying he's here or almost here.

Next thing I know I hear the buzzer for my buildings front door go off and I jump and run over to the intercom to go let him in. I can feel my blood rushing as I'm waiting at the door, knowing that soon I'll get to be at his feet, licking and smelling them. He knocks and I open the door and get to see him for the first time. He's pretty tall, maybe 6'2 or a bit taller, easily 4 inches taller than me, and gorgeous. He has short brown hair, faded buzz on the sides and back, and a bit long on the top, parted on the left and styled over to the right. He has pretty green eyes as well, something we have in common, probably the only thing we have in common besides also both being male and into feet.

I greet him and step back to let him in, he just says, " 'Sup boy" as he walks past me. I instinctively glance down at his feet and he's definitely a size 12, he wasn't lying on his profile. I see he's wearing what once used to be white running sneakers, now spotted with dirt marks from obviously being worn a lot, with green laces. He has on white socks that go half way up his calves. I'm already in love. I shut my apartment door and step around him, guiding him to my room.

He walks in and I close the door behind me, just in case one of my roommates decides to unexpected come home. He sits on my bed and immediately tells me to get on my knees. I obey and look up at him, waiting for his next command. I can feel this vibe coming off of him that he's the one in charge here. This is definitely going to be more of a Dom/sub dynamic.

"Kiss my shoes," he orders. I lean down and start kissing his shoes, making sure to kiss all up and down his left shoe before switching over to his right. Maybe a minute goes by and as I'm about to straighten back up he tells me, "Now lick them, fag." Immediately that sends a jolt right down to my crotch. I hesitate though, I've never licked someones shoes before and I don't know if I want to. I'm not super into shoes themselves, rather what they contain. He doesn't seem to care though as he takes his right shoe, plants it on top of my head and pushes my head to the ground. He moves his shoe so it moves my head sideways and ends up pushing down on my cheek, with me looking at his left shoe.

"Lick," he tells me. I hesitantly stick my tongue out and start to lick the side of his shoe, small little licks at first, not trying to get too much dirt on my tongue but still not wanting to disobey him.

"That's it, keep licking, clean the dirt off my shoes with your tongue faggot." With his encouragement I start getting bolder, licking more of his shoe each time I stick my tongue out. It doesn't taste as bad as I had imagined it would. Maybe I could get into liking shoes as well.

Soon I've licked all over his left shoe, and with his right one he then taps my face a few times. I figured that's my signal to switch, and start licking his right shoe. I make sure to lick all over, just like I did with the left. His shoes end up getting shiny and slick from my saliva. The only parts I didn't lick where his laces and the soles of his shoes.

He shoves my head away and tells me to lay down on my back. I lay down and look up at him as he pulls his right shoe off and starts inspecting it, seemingly checking my work.

"You missed some spots," he says while point to a patch of dirt on the side of his shoe. "Stick your tongue out."

I obey as he takes his shoe and starts wiping it back and forth across my tongue, hard enough for me to feel the back of my tongue press against my bottom row of teeth and my chin. He does this for a couple seconds, inspects it again, then more wiping against my tongue, checks it again. He does this for several spots on his shoe, until he seems satisfied that it's clean. All the while I feel completely humiliated and turned on at the same time. No one has ever treated me like this before. It's one thing to lick someone's shoes yourself, another when they're basically using your tongue as a rag to clean every bit of dirt off their shoes while you just lay there and take it.

"Good job fag," he says as he takes his other shoe off. "Now sniff, deep long sniffs," and shoves the opening of his left shoe down on my nose and mouth. I start breathing in deep long breaths through my nose, inhaling the smell of his feet. I can still feel the warmth from his foot, and the smell is nice and ripe. He's obviously been wearing this pair of shoes all day long. It has a nice manly, musky smell to it, one that id become very accustomed to over the next few years. He's pressing his shoe hard into my face, creating almost no room for any fresh air to get in.

I'm starting to get lightheaded from taking such deep sniffs, and the lack of fresh air. I don't dare ask to stop though, this is exactly what I've been waiting for the past couple of days, and will gladly keep going until he tells me to stop. Eventually he does remove his shoe, and I open my eyes just in time to see him leaned over above me, lips pursed as a glob of spit is leaving his mouth, headed towards my face. I close my eyes again, not wanting to get spit in my eye, as I feel his spit land on my cheek and run down my face towards my ear.

"Thank you, Sir." I say as I open my eyes and look up at him.

"You're welcome fag. Now, tongue out again." He takes the same shoe I was just sniffing and starts to rub it against my tongue, cleaning off any spots I missed. He does this until he's satisfied this one is clean as well, and then leans back a bit on my bed and plants both his socked feet on my face without any warning. He starts to rub them all over my face, as I'm desperately trying to smell his feet, eager to finally inhale the scent right from the source.

At this point I'm completely hard, getting my face smashed and used as his personal foot massager. Every inch of his sock covered soles is getting wiped on my face. All I can smell are his feet. He presses the pad of his feet where his toes start right into my nostrils, and I let out a small groan after inhaling as much as I can. His feet might be the best ones I've ever smelled. Such a strong, powerful stench. It reminds me of my teenage years, when you'd walk into a friend's room after a long day at practice and both take off your shoes, filling the room with the smell of dirty socks and feet. Too soon he takes them off my face, and I'm already missing the weight and heat of his feet.

"Back on your knees," he commands, and quicky I obey. "Take my socks off with your teeth, slowly."

I struggle a bit to grab a hold of the hem of his sock, but eventually do and start working it's way down and around his heel. I let go once the part I grabbed is well past his feet, and grab another section of his sock with my teeth that are up against his toes. I look up and see him recording with his phone. It doesn't bother me though, I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak and this also means I'll be able to ask him for the video later and get off to it.

As I finally free his feet from his smelly socks, I stare at his big smooth feet, his sock still dangling in my mouth. He's wiggling his toes and I can see some sock lint stuck to the bottoms of his feet and in between his toes. He removes the sock from my mouth by grabbing it with his toes and I just keep staring at those amazing feet, in awe that I'm finally getting to see them in person, right before me in all their glory.

"My feet need to be cleaned fag. Stick your tongue out." He says as he gets a bit closer with his phone.

He starts wiping his foot on my tongue, dragging it from the bottom of his heel to the top of his toes. He's not gentle either, with each wipe of his foot, he's shoving my head back a bit. I can feel bits of his sock lint getting stuck to my tongue. After several wipes across my outstretched tongue, he shoves his toes in my mouth, only fitting 4 of his toes in. I start working my tongue around the ball of his foot, back and forth across before darting my tongue in between his toes. First his big toe and second toe, then between the second and third toe, then the last two in my mouth, before working my tongue back towards his big toe. I can feel my saliva starting to coat his feet as some of it drips out of my mouth.

He takes his foot out of my mouth and says, "Show me your tongue faggot." And gets up close with his phone, still recording. "Yeah, look at all that sock lint. Now swallow it."

I'm sure I've swallowed some sock lint before worshipping feet, but it's never been so apparent as now. It feels so degrading to have it pointed out like this, and being told to eat it. I swallow once, but still feel some bits on my tongue and try to work them loose so I can swallow every piece. Once I think I've gotten them all I stick my tongue back out.

"Good fag," he leans back and puts his phone away, ending the first recording of the night. "How'd you like that?" His demeanor has changed a bit, a little less dominating, like he was amping it up while recording.

"I enjoyed it Sir," I say honestly. While it was humiliating, my cock hasn't stopped being hard the entire time. I can certainly feel a wet spot from precum.

"Good," he says as he takes the sock off his other foot. "You can just lick and suck my feet for a bit now." He lays back on my bed and pulls out his phone, scrolling through something I can't see.

His feet are on the ground, soles facing my way. I lay on the ground on my stomach and start licking his newly exposed foot. I immediately shove my tongue right in between his toes, searching out all the sock lint I can find, and savoring the taste of his feet. I'm starting to enjoy cleaning all the lint off his feet, and he doesn't need to tell me this time to swallow it all. I suck each of his toes one by one, rubbing my tongue up and down them before popping the toe out of my mouth and moving into the next.

Then I get as close to his heels as I can and lick up the entire length of his foot, ending by swiping my tongue between his toes again. His feet taste so good, a little salty, a little ripe. I get lost in it, I'm not sure how long I was down there licking and sucking on his toes.

I start letting out moans as I'm licking, while grinding my cock into the floor. Eventually licking isn't enough, I need to feel his feet pressed against my face again. I start rubbing my face into his feet, slick from my saliva. I get my nose into the base of his toes, between his toes. I can feel his toes against my closed eyes, on my forehead. I lose track of everything but his feet, getting every inch of them all over my face. Alternating between rubbing my face against his feet and licking them.

Between moans I start saying, "Thank you," Moan. "Thank you, Sir." Another groan. I can vaguely hear him calling me a good boy. I'm not even aware I'm doing it, it's just coming out of me at this point.

"What's that faggot?" He asks.

"Thank you Sir" I say louder this time, still muffled a bit from my mouth pressed up against his feet.

"Say it again."

"Thank you Sir!"

"Yeah, you're fucking welcome, foot bitch." He says with disdain coming off his words. I briefly look up and see his phone out again, recording. I hear him working some spit in his mouth and I know what's coming next.

He spits right into my face, the majority of it lands on my forehead, with some hitting next to my eye, and drips down over my eyebrow and onto my nose.

Again, I say, "Thank you Sir," as another groan escapes my lips.

"Fuck you, faggot."

I just keep licking his feet, fully lost in what is the best experience I've ever had in my life.

"Look at you, fucking disgusting little pig. Only can get off to my feet. So fucking pathetic. Just a little doormat."

I nod along in agreement to everything he says, degrading me while I'm sucking one toe, then the next. Slurping up his spit covered feet.

"Paying to worship a man's feet, it's your only purpose in life," he says next. I'm in a fog of lust at this point, but vaguely think, 'that part was odd, I didn't pay him to worship his feet?' Maybe he was just playing it up for the camera, since he's still recording. I just mumble a, "Yes Sir" and keep licking, too deep to stop, too deep to think.

"Tell me you're thankful," he commands.

"I'm so thankful, Master."

"Good boy." He ends the recording there.

I keep licking a bit more, savoring the feeling of his feet against my face, my tongue tasting between his toes, how his spit felt hitting my face. I can't get enough, I'm in heaven. This is exactly what I want. His big beautiful feet right up against my face, worshipping every inch of them.

I'm not sure how much later, it feels too soon, but eventually he tells me he needs to go and that it's getting late. I look at the time and it's past 11, not realizing it's been over 3 hours. He asks where the bathroom is and I guide him to it, understanding he probably wants to wipe his feet off a bit from all my spit.

He stands in the tub and tells me kneel down next to it and turn the water on. He lifts up his one foot and tells me to clean it. I grab my loofah and soap it up and start wiping down his feet, washing his sole and then between his toes. I do his other foot as well, then dry his feet off. We head back to my room and he starts putting his socks and shoes on, commenting on how hot this whole thing was. I agree, telling him it was the best worship session I've ever had. That his feet are the best I've ever seen.

We agree to meet up again and I show him out of my apartment, locking the door behind him. I head back to my room, realizing I didn't even get to cum, I was just so involved in his feet. That's a first for me. It's too late to meet up with friends but I still want to grab a drink and relive all that just happened. I don't dare wash my face, I can still smell his feet mixed with my saliva. I want to savor the feeling and the smell. I put some sock and shoes on and grab my wallet to head down to the store. As I open up my wallet I realize all my money is gone. I had almost $200 in there, and think what the hell happened to it?

Then it hit me, he wasn't putting on a show when he said 'Paying to worship a man's feet', he meant it. At some point, while I was so lost in worshipping his feet, he went through my wallet and took all my cash.

I immediately text him, asking, "Why did you take all the money out of my wallet??"

A minute or so passes and I get a response from him that says "Hah, didn't think you'd notice so soon. Think of it as the price for getting to worship your Masters big feet, fag" and then another one comes in right after "Don't act like you didnt love every second of that."

Soon the recordings he took are sent over to me. I don't even respond to him and just started playing them, growing hard again at rewatching all that just transpired. I reach down and start jerking myself off while I watch just how depraved I acted in that last one. I cum right as I watch his spit land on my face, pressed up against his feet.

I immediately close the video, feeling disgusted and humiliated at what I just watched, at how I acted. Moaning over his feet. That feeling lasts only a brief couple of moments though, before I realize I want more, I want to do it again. I need to do it again.

I messaged him back, "Thank you, Sir."

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And that's the story of this first time I met my Master, and the beginning of how I became his object, his property.