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Family Foot Fag
by Foot Slave

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It was a hot summer and I was just finishing up my chores for the day when I heard a loud bang at the front door.

Oh no! I thought, He's home already and I haven’t finished my chores. I tried to finish off the last bit of tidying when I heard it… "Bitch! Where are you? Daddy's home and needs worshipping!" He roared. I dropped whatever I was doing and rushed to the front door.

"There you are fag" he said as he walked into the lounge room, dropped onto his recliner and clicked his fingers “Here now.” I reluctantly followed. "Go get me a beer while I relax, it's been a long day.” He propped his boots up onto the recliner and I could see just how dirty they were, “I just finished a 12 hour shift in the mines and my dogs are fucking sweaty!" He wasn't joking, they looked sweaty even from the outside. I stared at his boots for god knows how long dreading the thought of what he would make me do to them in the coming minutes. He must have noticed me staring blankly for too long.

"Oi fuckface, I ordered you to get me a beer, now do as you are told" he commanded.

"Yes dad, sorry!" I rushed into the kitchen as quick as I could, grabbed him a six pack and ran right back. As I was running I tripped over and smacked my face against the corner of the couch. He laughed his ass off as I crawled to the side of his recliner and handed him his beer. He yanked it from my hand and pushed me back, I tumbled backwards with my face inches before his boots.

"See these dirty boots boy?" He asked smugly.

"Y…Yes dad" I hesitated.

"See how caked in mud they are?” He asked as he brushed them against each other causing dust and debris to fall, “Daddy can't go to work tomorrow with them looking like this can he?" I knew where this was headed and I was not looking forward to it.

"No sir" I said looking down.

"Well then, there's only one solution isn't there", he skulled his first beer and let out a loud belch. "You know the drill, get on your knees and get that useless fag tongue on them, NOW!" I jumped up in surprise and fell straight back down on my knees and proceeded to quickly start licking the mud from daddy's work boots not wanting to make him angry. "Make sure you get in between the treads faggot!” He laughed. “Yeaah this is the life isn't it son." He said as he switched on the TV. "Your daddy relaxing on his throne being serviced by his worthless faggot of a son."

I felt so humiliated listening to him while licking the dirt and mud from his boots but it was what my life had become after my mother left. She had had enough of his abuse one day and left dad, my older brother Bud and I for another man all those months ago. The day mum left, dad was not fussed at all, he said that because I was the youngest I would be the new ‘bitch’ of the house. He told me that it was a waste of money to send two kids to school and college so he pulled me out and said that my job from now on was to look after the house, doing all the chores and taking of his and Bud’s needs.

After about 15 minutes of licking the dirt and mud from his boots they finally looked presentable so I stopped licking and waited, he noticed I had stopped and saw the depressed look on my face, "what's with that look faggot, I give you the honor of worshipping my boots and you don’t appreciate it?" There was nothing I could say that would get me out of this situation so I just looked down. He reached forward grabbed my hair and slapped me hard in the face. "Thank me for letting you clean my boots!"

My face stung from his backhand and I blurted out, "Thank you dad!"

SLAP SLAP!

"What are you thanking me for!?" He screamed.

I quickly responded, "Thank you dad for letting me worship you and licking the mud from your dirty boots."

"Ha! That's better boy" he said as he released his grip on my hair and relaxed back. My face felt numb from the slaps and I noticed tears running down my face. "Now... You get to remove daddy's boots... and breathe in the stench of how a working man should smell like."

"Please dad no, I hate doing this… don’t make..." SLAP!

"Untie my boots fag and be quick about it otherwise your face with be a punching bag for the rest of the night" He commanded and I listened for not wanting a beating. I proceeded to untie the laces on his boots, looking up I could see the smirk on my dad's face, he knew how much I was hating this and he was loving it. Being able to take out his frustrations of mum leaving him on me while also thriving on the power it gave him. "That’s it boy, untie those laces and get that fag nose of yours close to those boots before your remove them." I did as I was told and moved my face inches away from his boots and started to tug at his heavy work boot. His boot came off with a wet slurping sound and I was immediately assaulted with a stench that enveloped my nose. I instinctively tried to move away but was stopped by a heavy grip on my hair, it was dad's hand yanking me forward into his socked foot. "Where do you think you're going son? Daddy's foot stink is this way!" He said as he shoved my face directly onto his foot, I held my breath as long as I could, dad must have noticed this because he pulled my hair and yelled "BREATHE!!"

It hurt so much so I did what I was told and started sniffing at his dirty sock, "Pl...Please...d…dad...they smell so bad..." was all I could make out from my face being shoved into his socked foot.

"Daddy’s sock smells pretty bad hey son? Nice and sweaty for my faggot to breath in." he said laughing, "now remove the other boot and start sniffing both of my sweaty socks!" I removed his other boot from his foot and the smell from his feet was rank. He stretched back pushing forward so that both his feet were right in front of my face as he crunched his toes so that more stink would waft into my nose. “Ahhhh, it feels good to get those sweaty dogs outta there.” I sat there sniffing daddy’s stinky socks while he watched TV for about 15 minutes.

“Daddy’s feet are sore, massage them.” He said, gulping down another beer without peeling an eye from the TV. I began to rub his feet through his sweaty socks and could feel the dampness in them still from his long working day incased in those boots. My dad turned to me “Ah I forgot to tell you, your brother texted me earlier. He said to tell you that his coach made him run laps around the field for 2 extra hours this arvo and to be ready because he couldn’t find any socks this morning.”

Oh shit I thought, my face said it all and my dad knew exactly what I was thinking. “Haha you think my feet smell bad, I dread to think what Bud’s feet smell like after running all day in his footy boots with no socks on.”

At that moment I heard the front door opening and knew it was my older brother Bud getting home from college football practice…