John and I had been best friends since we were kids. We did everything together and were inseparable. We met during our first year of school, and we immediately become close friends.

As we grew older, our interests began to diverge. I had become the nerdy type, spending days reading books and playing video games. Unfortunately for me, I had no athletic ability, stood around 5 foot 8, and had a scrawny body type. To make things worse for me, my dad, who was the sole breadwinner of the family, lost his job during my early teens. This had a significant impact on my family’s status in society. My parents could no longer afford to buy me new clothes and definitely not the luxuries my friends had and so I found solitude in my books and video games.

John on the other hand came from a very wealthy family. He had everything and anything he wanted. John’s appearance also couldn’t be any more different from mine. John had grown into a tall, extremely fit, and all-around handsome guy, that the girls obsessed over. He had the perfect jawline, the body most dream of, dark hair and emerald-green eyes. He was HOT, and he knew it

The school we went to was small, and so our choice of friends our age was quite limited. Looking back, maybe this had something to do with it, but somehow, despite all our differences, our childhood bond could not be broken, and were still extremely close friends. John always made sure to look after me, protecting me from the older boys that loved to bully me. In return, I would help with his homework, it was a friendship that just worked, and we spent most weekends with each other.

However, as is the case for me, all nice things usually come to an end.

When we finished High School, we both managed to get a scholarship for university. My scholarship was because of my academic results, Johns thanks to his athletic ability. Although I had received multiple scholarship offers, I went with the university John had gotten into, that way I could go through the college experience with my best friend.

We both got a dorm together, which I was very happy about, as the thought of sharing a room with a stranger scared me. At first, things seemed to be going well. I was happy to have John by my side as we navigated the challenges of college life. We would often have drinks with each other at the end of the day and play video games. John was very focused on his football. He was one of the star players, and would always tell me the stories of how he scored the game point, or the new girl obsessing over him. He was respectful in the beginning when it came to bringing girls over, always making sure it was okay with me. My life wasn’t as exciting, but I was still happy.

But before long, John began to make new friends, other jocks and athletes who shared his interests. He started to spend more and more time with his new friends. I was happy for him, he seemed really happy. I felt left out and I started to became increasingly jealous of John's new friends. He would always let me know their plans, but I never seemed to get an invite anymore. I on the other hand had been struggling to make new friends, and now that I was seeing less of my best friend and roommate, I spent a lot of time alone in the dorm, waiting for his return.

As time went on, I started to feel as though was John beginning to take advantage of my loyalty and our friendship. It started slowly, just asking if I mind doing his homework as he has football practice, or if I mind bringing him a beer while he was watching TV. He was always very polite, and I really didn’t mind helping my friend out. It slowly progressed to John having me do his share of chores, from cleaning his half of the room to doing his laundry.

Once again, he always asked nicely and made sure to say thank you. I always happily complied, hoping it might win back John's friendship, but things only got worse.

Over the space of a couple of weeks, John would no longer ask for help, it was just expected. It would just be “have you done my washing yet, I want to wear …………. tonight”, or, “when I get back can you make sure the room is clean, I want to bring a girl over.” It seemed that most times we spoke, it was just him asking me to do something. I continued to do all he asked in hopes it would help keep what I still have left of my friend. The things I did for him also progressed, he now expected I make all his meals, get things from the shops if he needed, pick up after him. He pretty much did nothing anymore, all the chores were my responsibility.

Before I knew it, John began to treat me as if I was his personal servant, making me do everything from fetching his snacks to carrying his books. He would often make me wait on him hand and foot, expecting me to be at his beck and call at all times. I was humiliated and embarrassed, but I didn't know how to stand up to John. I was afraid of losing my only friend.

It had been like this for a few weeks, and it just grew normal. John expected it, and I just got used to it. It was the new dynamic, and I accepted it as fair. He constantly reminded me of how hard he works, training all day as well as doing schoolwork, while I only have to worry about my academics, which is easy for a nerd like me. He said that after his training, he shouldn’t have to worry about doing chores, and that it is only fair that I do his half and help him out when he needs.

However, I was naïve in thinking this is where my “assistance” ends. I soon would learn of my new responsibilities.

John walked into the dorm, he had just had practice and was a sweaty mess. I noticed as he walked over to his armchair he was limping. I asked, “what’s wrong”, John responded with “f*cking coach, made us do laps all afternoon, and I sprained my ankle”, as he sat down with a big sigh in his chair. Before I could say anything, in a commanding tone he said, “bring me some ice, my ankle is killing me.”

I quickly obliged heading to the freezer to get an icepack. I walked over to give the ice to him. He didn’t put his hand out to grab it, instead saying, “just put it on my ankle for me, I am in too much pain to do anything right now. Also, don’t forget about my beer.”

I grabbed his beer, gave it to him and knelt down to rest the ice on his ankle gently. He still had his shoes and socks on from practice. I paused awkwardly, not quite sure what to do. John saw my predicament and told me “the ice won’t do anything with them still on, take them off for me. I would but I can’t, and it is the least you could do for your injured friend.”

I really didn’t want to, he was still super sweaty from his practice, and I have learnt over the last few months of being his roomie how awful his feet smell. “John you are still so sweaty, that’s disgusting, can’t you just do it yourself?”

John looked at me in a way he has never looked at me before. It was a scary and intimidating look, the look your dad gives you when you’ve seriously made him angry. John was 6 foot 4, and could really hurt me if he wanted, we both knew it. All he responded with was, “I’m not asking, and I won’t ask again.”

I knew I had no choice, I looked back down at his dirty shoes, and began to untie them. “Gently” is all John said. I made sure to slowly pull his injured foots shoe off first, as I pulled it off, it made a slurping sound from all the sweat, and the smell immediately filled my nostrils. It was an overpowering smell, I wanted to pass out. John saw my reaction, and just laughed, “don’t forget about the other shoe.” I moved around to the other side of the armchair, carefully taking off the other shoe. The smell almost worse than the first. I wanted to throw up.

I put the ice on his ankle, and I began to get up, trying to make my escape from the awful smell. “Where do you think you are going? You aren’t done”, John said. I looked at him blankly, unsure of what was left.

“The socks.” John said as he flicked on the TV. I gulped. I knew the smell would only get worse once they came off, and I really didn’t want to touch his sweaty socks after hours of running. My hesitation made him angry. I could tell by the way he looked at me. All he said was, “now.”

I quickly knelt back down at his feet, fearing what may happen if I take one more second. I did as I was told, and slowly pulled off his socks. This is the first time I realised how big his feet are. Standing 6’4, and solid muscle, I guess it is no surprise, but they must have been at least size 13. I placed the socks next to his shoes, and as I was getting ready to get back up, I head Johns deep voice again.

“ah ah ah, not so fast. I think a massage would help relieve the pain I am in right now. Stay on your knees and massage my feet.”

I was repulsed by his request. There was no way I was touching his bare feet after hours of working out. “No way, they are disgusting, the ice will help with the pain”, I said.

Before I could react, John grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the footrest, just a few inches from his feet.

“Listen here you little bitch. I have protected and looked after you all these years from the bullies. I have kept you company while your loser ass stays in this dorm all day. It is clear now that I am better than you in every way. You need me, I don’t need you.”

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Hearing my only “friend” speak to me like this made me want to cry. But I knew it was true. I knew without him I would have no-one, have nothing. I needed him, he didn’t need me. I said nothing, fearing I would anger him more. With his grip still tight, he commanded, “now show me the respect I deserve, and massage my feet.”

I knew I couldn’t argue, and so I did as he commanded. My hands gently touched his feet. They were still hot and felt damp from all the sweat. He lay back down as I began my massage. I must have been massaging his feet for nearly an hour at this point. Up to now he had completely ignored me, as if I wasn’t there. The most I got from him was an odd sigh or groan, and at one point telling me to focus on the arches.

“My beer is empty, get me another one.”

I thought this might finally mean I could stop massaging his feet, and escape from this torture. Oh how wrong I was.

I handed him the beer, and all he said was, “Kneel back down at my feet.”

I did as I was told. “Now listen here, things are going to change around here. We clearly are not unlike, I am an alpha, I can get any woman I want, I look like a Greek god, I am superior to you in every way. I don’t see you as a friend anymore, I see you as a bitch. A little fag that will do anything to keep me happy.” John said

I am not a fag, or at least I don’t think I am. I have never slept with a woman, but that doesn’t make me one.

John continued, “With this in mind, the dynamic in this dorm must change. I will never lift another finger again. You will do as your told, without complaint. You shall look after my every need. You are my bitch. And I am your master. Understood?”

I knew I had no choice, if I said no, not only would he probably beat the shit out of me, but I’d be left with no-one, no-one to protect me from the other jocks, no-one to talk to.

“Yes”, I said in a defeated tone.

“Yes what”, John said

“Yes Master?”

“That’s right, you shall only refer to me as sir or master from here on out. You no longer have a name to me, you are my bitch and slave, and that is what I shall refer to you as.”

“Now your first task as my little bitch. Lick my feet. These bad boys deserve some love and care, and that is what you shall provide. I want you to clean every drop of sweat, dirt and lint off of them.”

Every bone in my body said run. Maybe if I don’t do this I can convince him to reconsider. I knew the moment my tongue touched his sweaty sole, this would be my new role. There would be no going back.

But what was out there for me? No friends, no purpose, no one to talk to. A tear ran down my face as I leaned forward towards his feet. I stuck my tongue out and gave it a small lick. The taste was salty, but not completely disgusting.

“I want to feel your tongue go from my heel to the top of my toe”, John demanded. I did as I was told, my tongue gliding from his heal, up his arch to his big toe, picking up lint, dirt and sweat along the way. I had never felt such humiliation.

John put his feet together, “put your face in the middle, tell me what your masters feet smell like.” I placed my face in-between his two ginormous feet, my entire face covered. The smell was indescribable, smelt of sweat and vinegar, but something about it smelt good. It smelt like a man, something I have longed to be for so long.

I spent the next two hours licking every inch of his feet, sucking his toes, and biting off the dry skin. John ignored me the entire time, giving me a smack on the cheek with his foot every now and then if he felt I wasn’t doing a good enough job. My friend was nowhere to be seen, he had zero respect for me now, viewed me as worthless, just a slave to satisfy his every need, and I agreed with him.

Rick lifted his one foot up to make eye-contact with me. “I am going to say this once, and once only. So pay attention.”

“This is your new role in life. I expect you ready after every single practice. I want you kneeling at the front door when I arrive home. You will kiss my shoes, take them off for me, with your teeth. You will crawl behind me to the armchair, where a cold beer will be waiting for me. You will only crawl in my presence. You will worship me. You will clean my socks, kissing and licking every inch of my feet until they are sparkling. You will clean my armpits with your tongue. You are my bitch, and my body is your god. You will not speak to me unless directly given permission. Your half of the room is now mine, you will sleep at the foot of my bed. You will do all my homework, prepare all my meals, I will do absolutely nothing from here on out. Get that slave?”

“Yes master”, was all I could muster up to say.

With that, he hit my hard with his left foot, knocking me further to ground. He stood up, placing his foot, and weight on my face. The pressure hurt, and I was scared. John was so much bigger than me, if we want to he could crush me under his feet, and I could do nothing about that. He looked down at me, making eye contact with me between his toes. “You are mine, I control you now. You disobey a single one of my orders, and you will be severely punished. You are nothing, less than the dirt beneath my feet. I am your sole purpose now.”

He then put his entire weight onto my face, stepping on me while walking over to his bed. With that, he turned the lights off, I crawled to the foot of his bed. He placed both his size 13 feet in my face.

This is my life now.