Synopsis: A rich friend pays me to humiliate myself under his feet, with unexpected consequences. Codes = M/m, humiliation, feet, reluctant.
Copyright © Ted Underfoot
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171 Second Street, Suite 300
San Francisco, California 94105
A rich friend pays me to humiliate myself under his feet, with unexpected consequences.
My name is Ted and I run a fantasy football league with some friends of mine back in my college days and a few new people we added for a 20-team league. We meet every year for our face-to-face draft. There is no money involved, just a bunch of guys having fun. We are all very competitive and research the players, smack talk, and all of that.
There is this one new guy Andrew who has tried to get up to speed by asking me a lot of questions. At first he would send me e-mails and then we would chat online. He is a good guy and fun to chat with and I enjoy chatting fantasy football while I multi-task and check football news or stats.
Every now and then Andrew would slip into the conversations implications that he is rich. It was amusing because he is not good at being subtle. He is not trying to be funny but it gives me a good chuckle most every time because it is silly.
One time as we were chatting online I decided to ask him about it.
Tedman: Are you rich?
Tedman: That must be nice
Drew: you have no idea, it’s beyond great
Drew: how about you
Tedman: no, just a regular guy
Drew: what is it like to have to work?
Tedman: It sucks, believe me!
Drew: i believe you, i would think it would be like slavery, a slave to money
Tedman: Yes, if you put it that way
Drew: that makes me superior to you, right??
I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Was he trying to bait me into anger or something? I think the last time I was angry was 15 years ago, it just isn’t in my playbook. I was amused instead of angry.
Tedman: I guess it depends how you look at things
Drew: i have everything i want in life while you are a slave to money, doesn’t seem like equality to me
Tedman: Like I said, depends how you look at it
Drew: don’t you feel inferior?
Tedman: I am lucky to have a stable job and no money problems
Drew: hey, would you like to come over and see my house? it’s a big house
This guy was too much. If he thought that my seeing his house would rub my inferiority in my face, he would be disappointed.
In a way he was right about me being a slave to money. I so much want to save for retirement that I am careful about what I spend money on, probably to the point of being a tight-wad, well, definitely to that point. If I ever get a chance to work overtime on my job I take it, even though I hate it, because I like being paid time-and-a-half. I would probably work overtime just to get paid regular time but my job does not have much overtime work available.
I always wondered how rich people lived. I think most rich people still work but they don’t need to so they are probably able to choose what they work on, maybe they focus on investing instead of working or maybe they just work part-time because they can. They probably work on what they love to do, I could only dream of that. I like watching those lifestyles of the rich and marvel at some of the huge houses they have.
So even though I figured Andrew would try to belittle me with his smug attitude, I wouldn’t be bothered by that and I wanted to see his house.
Tedman: Yes, I would like that
Drew: are you doing anything now?
Drew: come over, i will e-mail you my address now, be here in 30 minutes?
Tedman: Yes, cool, I will see you then
His house was large but it was not a mansion. He lived alone so maybe it was sufficient to have “only” 4 bedrooms, a big game room, a big swimming pool, etc.
I complimented him on the house as he gave me the tour. He was a cool guy to talk with, joking around, not the smugness I was expecting at all. We connected well, meaning he seemed to enjoy my jokes and he was very easy to talk with.
When the tour was over we sat on his living room couch and finished off milk shakes he had made. He brought up our earlier chat topic by asking “So do you feel like a slave to money?”
I said “Yes, I think a large majority of people do even if they don’t think of it that way. It isn’t really being a slave because we have a choice in how we earn money and since billions of people are all dependent on money it isn’t like feeling depressed or different, it’s just the way things are.”
He said “Not for me. When someone like you encounters someone like me, does that make you feel different?”
There is that inadvertent dig, “someone like you” as if I was a second-class citizen. It was amusing and I didn’t want to stop his smug and funny attitude by pointing out his choice of words.
I replied “I guess yes, sort of, except that we think of you as the different ones. Sort of like you are a freak.”
He laughed and did not take offense to my joking around. He said “Do you think of someone like me as a superior or just as a freak?”
I answered “I don’t think I get the superior thing. It’s my understanding that superior means a better person, like superman or something. Superman can leap tall buildings with a single bound.”
He interrupted “And rich people can buy tall buildings.”
I let that sink in and said “Hmmm, I think I see what you mean. You can do things which others can’t, regardless of whether it is due to superhuman strength or whatever, and you feel that this makes you superior to others who can’t.”
He said “Right, exactly. Do you not agree with this point of view?”
I said “No, all men are created equal and just because someone can do something…. What about someone who can do math real fast or catch a football on their fingertips or sack the quarterback. Are they superior? I’m sure there is something I can do that most others can’t, that true for most everyone.”
He replied “Yes, in that one talent they have. But it’s the totality of the person which is at question, not just one talent. Now a great wide receiver in football is probably also rich so he is not only superior in being able to catch the ball but superior in having money to be able to do whatever he wants to do. So in his case I would say that he is superior.”
I said “Is money the only meaningful way someone can be superior?”
He answered “Pretty much. If you had a choice would you rather be able to catch a football on your fingertips but not be able to make any money off that or would you rather be rich?”
I said “Rich.”
He said “Would you rather do math real fast or be rich?”
I said “I think I see where you are going. Because most everyone in the world wants more money, those who already have a lot of money are superior to those who don’t, right?”
He said “Yes, exactly. Not only that most everyone wants more money, they need it, they can’t survive without it or can’t survive well anyway. They are slaves to money and there is literally no escape until death.”
I considered this for a moment. It was ridiculous to think that rich people were superior so there had to be a counter-argument but my mind was run into circles and I could not think of one.
I said “You win, I’m sure that there is something I’m not thinking of but you make a convincing case.”
He said “I don’t win if you do not believe what I am saying.”
I offered “I believe that you believe what you are saying.”
He replied “I want you to believe. How would you like $50?”
I responded “How would I like it? I would like it in two 20s and a 10” and we chuckled.
He said “No, seriously, I would like to offer you $50 to do something. Any interest?”
This was taking an interesting turn. It felt weird for a friend to be offering me money for something. If he had a job opening for me that would be one thing but he was trying to make a point and I felt uncomfortable with where this was going. On the other hand, I really liked having extra money to put in the bank and that was more important than any strange feeling I might have.
I answered “Yes, what do you have in mind?”
He said “I would like you to lie on the floor for 15 minutes while I rub my socked feet all over your face.”
What the hell. Does he have hatred for people he thinks are inferior that he wants to humiliate them? Maybe. But despite his vile offer I wasn’t getting that feeling, my intuition told me that he was just enjoying himself and he wasn’t doing this out of hatred.
I said “Let me think” and I thought it out for several seconds. $50 for 15 minutes is $200 an hour which is around 8 hours of work at my pay rate, and it is tax free so that is really something like the equivalent of $300 an hour which is around 12 hours of work. Would I rather work 12 hours or have his socked feet rubbed on my face for 15 minutes?
This was a no-brainer by a long shot. I said “Yes, I’m game.”
That made him happy, I could tell from his body language.
In writing this journal I realize now that my math was off. He was not going to pay me the equivalent of 12 hours of my work, he was paying me $50 which was the equivalent of 2 hours of my work or the equivalent of 3 due to the tax adjustment. I feel shamed that my mind was not able to do this math but this was in the past.
To comply with our deal, I got down on the floor and lay parallel to the couch, face up. He took his tennis shoes off and then started rubbing his white socked feet all over my face. He was rubbing it in good to completely humiliate me as I felt his socked foot on my forehead then pressed against my nose, while he rubbed his other foot against my lips. I had been breathing through my mouth to avoid the smell but he covered that with his foot so now I had to smell his sock and it smelled as I expected, like a foot.
This was a lot more humiliating than I had anticipated. I wondered how many showers I would need to take to get the smell off my face. But 15 minutes of this was infinitely better than 12 hours of work.
After a few minutes he said “Do you feel inferior now?” I could not answer with his foot over my mouth, he laughed and said “Oh sorry, your too busy worshipping my foot!” and laughed some more.
I did feel inferior. Rich people would never feel the need to have someone’s feet in their face. Probably most other people wouldn’t agree to do this in the first place so maybe it didn’t have anything to do with rich or not, maybe I just was inferior for allowing myself to be a slave to money.
After 15 minutes he lifted his feet off my face and I felt relief at the fresh air and just being done with the humiliating experience. I wondered if he and I could ever even chat like normal people again but I had overestimated the effect of this, from his point of view he already felt that I was inferior so my being under his feet was not something out of character. As I got off the floor I tried to pick up my self-esteem to be able to talk with him and I was mostly successful.
When I was seated back on the couch he asked “Are you okay? Here is the $50.”
I accepted the money and replied “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” Seeing the money in my hands definitely lifted my spirits.
He asked “Was it worth it?”
A part of me didn’t want to say the full truth because I felt humiliated and the full truth would humiliate me even more, but a bigger part of me wanted him to know the full truth so that my bank account could grow with hopefully more offers of money.
I replied “Yes, it was very much worth it, thank you very much.”
He was beaming. He said “There is plenty more where that came from, if you are interested?”
I was very interested. If I understood him correctly, this could be a good source of quick income for me. I figured that I could not grovel under his feet a whole lot of times, my self-respect does have some boundaries, but every now and then who knows?
I answered “Yes, I am very interested.”
He said “Wow, that is great.” He paused and said “Do you feel inferior now?”
I replied honestly and because I figured it was what he wanted to hear “Yes, I am inferior to you…” I agonized over whether or not to say the next word, I wanted him to keep feeding me cash so I wanted to say it but the next word was humiliating for me to say, even more humiliating than admitting that I am inferior. I went ahead and said it, “…, sir.”
He smiled at me and said “I like that, a whole lot.” He then acted like a mystic seer and said “I think I see a bright future for you, lots of money in your future.”
It was strange how casual he was about this situation. He felt completely in his element lording his superiority over me while at the same time joking around with me as if I was an equal. He didn’t seem to have any hatred in him so, while he was enjoying my humiliation it didn’t seem to be because he is sadistic in wanting me to be in pain, he was just enjoying the feeling of superiority. I guess that is a type of sadism but this was consensual because I was getting a good amount of money so I was good with it.
He asked “Would you like some more money now?”
I felt like a dog in his Master’s leesh, would you like to go out to play now? Yes, oh please, yes I love to play! More money please, sir, yes!
I tried to keep cool and said “What do you have in mind?”
He said “Same thing and same $50 except my feet would be bare.”
Ugh, bare feet on my face for 15 minutes. I didn’t know if I could take that. 15 minutes of that or 12 hours of work. Gosh, that was so much money for such a small amount of time. $50 it may not seem like much but it is like dinner for 10 nights for me on my meager budget. This was another no-brainer except I wanted to make sure of something.
I asked “Are your feet dirty?”
He took one sock off and put his foot on his knee and said “Take a look.” His foot was not dirty at all.
So I said “Okay, should I lie down now?”
He playfully waved his arms motioning downward and said “Be my guest.”
I dreaded what was about to happen but I got down on the ground and waited for it. He did not hesitate, he rubbed one bare foot all over my face and seemed to linger on my lips to really drive home the humiliation. His foot was a bit sweaty and I could feel it sticking just a tiny bit to my face each time he pressed down.
This was terrible. I felt like dirt under his feet and that’s what I was. He rested one foot over my eyes and forehead while the other bare foot played with my lips and nose. He rubbed his big toe against my lips and I almost gagged, I pursed my lips to get them out of the way and that helped. With my mouth covered I had to breathe through my nose and the smell of his feet was not overly strong but it was definitely the smell of sweaty feet and it took all of my effort not to turn my body away.
I kept telling myself 12 hours of work, 12 hours of work and that helped me a lot during this humiliation. I was able to calm down and not be as sensitive to the smell of his feet, the feel of his toe on my pursed lips and on my nose, and the overall humiliation at being under his bare feet.
Fortunately, he didn’t say anything because I don’t know if I could have taken any more humiliation.
When it was over and he lifted his feet off my face I turned over on my stomach and then was going to push myself up but I was so humiliated that I just wanted to bury my face in the carpet. I realized that I wanted to cry but I fought that off since the ordeal was over.
I pushed myself up to my knees and then onto the couch, but I could not make eye contact with him.
He asked “Are you okay?” and held out another $50 bill.
This time the truth was that I was not yet okay but I didn’t want him to know that, I wasn’t ready to decide whether or not I wanted any more of his money this way and I worried that if I let him know how much I was hurting he might not offer again so I took the safe route and answered while still looking away “Yes, I just need to catch my breath.” I grabbed the $50 and put it in my pocket.
He chuckled and said “That makes sense, I imagine that there wasn’t much fresh air down there” and chuckled at his joke which increased my humiliation.
It did not take me long to recover my self-esteem, or a bit of it anyway, and I was able to look at him while we talked further.
This experience was painful for me and I wondered if he experienced any pain at being down $100 just for 30 minutes so I asked him “Are you okay from a money standpoint?”
That really made him laugh. He didn’t seem to be laughing at me as if my question was stupid, he was just genuinely tickled.
When he was done laughing he said “That is one of the great things about being rich, spending money is easy and it is like a drop in the bucket.”
I said “I envy you. You really are superior to me.”
I said this strange statement because I wanted to continue to puff up his ego so he would feed me more cash. Even after the two sessions of humiliation I decided that 12 hours of work was much much much much worse and I would go through probably as many sessions as he wanted. I also made the statement because after so much humiliation I felt that the statement was true, he could have me groveling on the floor beneath his feet while he laughed at me, and it was just because he was rich and I was not. That made him superior.
I reminded myself that most people would probably not agree to grovel under his feet for $50, and it was not right for me to speak about rich people or poor people in general. In my mind I retracted my general thoughts and just focused specifically on him and me. He is superior to me, I am inferior. I felt that this was true with all of my being, now. I am a slave to money and he is not. It is just a simple fact.
After my statement he seemed to really look into my eyes. I think he was trying to see how sincere I was. He said “Would you like to make more money?”
I almost blurted out my excitement like a dog, I quickly stopped myself but I then quickly felt ashamed for it. Am I really so pathetic?
I managed to say “What do you have in mind?”
He said “For $20 I would like you to spend 10 minutes licking my bare feet.”
Oh my gosh. Licking his feet this time? I couldn’t do that, that was too much. And it was only $20. I had to thing this through so I said “Let me think.”
$20 for 10 minutes is $120 for an hour which is almost 5 hours of work and if you include tax that is around 7 hours of work. Would I rather spend 7 hours at work or 10 minutes licking his bare feet?
This can’t be as much of another no-brainer as it sounds. 7 hours is a long time at work, I could get almost a whole day worth of pay for just 10 minutes?
But geez it was 10 minutes of licking his feet. But it was 7 hours of work.
I said “That sounds good to me.” When I said it I felt as if I was agreeing to something big, like agreeing to cut my arm off, and a part of me had instant regret for agreeing to this but a bigger part of me was really glad at being able to make so much money for a small amount of time.
He said “Get down on your knees in front of me” and I said “Yes, sir.” In the past couple of minutes he seemed more, something, I think it was more demanding, less respectful. He didn’t help guide me to the floor like last time, he basically commanded me to kneel at his feet. His attitude increased my humiliation and feeling of inferiority but $20 was $20 so I gladly obeyed his command and internally thanked him for the opportunity to serve him.
Once I was on my knees he crossed one foot over his knee and told me “I am going to watch as you lick my foot. You need to lick all over my foot for 10 minutes.”
I said “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”
Why the hell did I say thank you? I don’t need to worship him, that was not part of the task I was being paid for. I need to just do what he says and stop being so inferior, except that inferior is just how I felt, especially at this moment, and I actually did feel thankful that he was allowing me the opportunity to lick his foot.
I looked at the sole of his bare foot right in front of my face and tried to muster the ability to push my face closer. I felt an invisible force stopping my head from moving forward, it was as if every fiber of my being was pushing against me to prevent me from doing something I would regret. But I would not regret this, 7 hours of work was a long time to toil away and this was much better than that.
So I forced my face forward and fought against my internal pressures to push my tongue out of my mouth. When my tongue connected with the sole of his foot I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head. I was humiliated to the core and my face felt hot. It was sort of the same feeling as blushing but it was much stronger.
I closed my eyes and forced myself past the embarrassment to run my tongue up against the sole of his bare foot from near the heel up to the ball of the foot. The taste was beyond horrible, it was like licking, well, it was like licking a foot, there is no other way to describe the taste. I guess I could say that the taste was like the smell of foot except that it was concentrated all on one place where the tongue met the foot. In any case, it took all of my effort not to gag.
After a couple of times licking his foot from the heel to the ball of his foot, the taste became more bearable, maybe I had licked off the sweat which was there so I was licking a cleaner foot or maybe I was just getting used to it. I think it was the latter because when he told me “Lick my toes,” the initial taste of his toes was not as bad as the initial taste of the sole of his foot.
All of this focusing on the taste of his foot was terrible but I realized at this point that it diverted my attention from the worst part of this experience. The humiliation. He was watching me lick his foot and this along with the taste made this a severe experience. It was unthinkable but I was literally licking a guy’s sweaty bare foot. Just thinking that increased my humiliation.
My eyes began to tear up. I didn’t know if I could take any more of this humiliation. I think it had only been 2 or 3 minutes, I didn’t think I could make it to 10.
But I had to keep going, if I stopped now or wiped my tears he would probably not feed me cash again. 7 hours of work, 7 hours of work.
I closed my eyes tight, allowing a couple of tears to run down my face, and renewed my efforts at licking his foot. I licked his toes like they were candy and I even licked between his toes, swallowing with great effort the lint which I found there. I licked up and down the sole of his foot like it was an ice cream cone.
He pulled his foot away and I opened my eyes to see that he was swapping feet. I breathed deeply for the first time since this horrible ordeal had begun 5 minutes ago and I moved to the other side to give me access to the sole of his foot which was crossed over his other knee.
The humiliation was not as intense after I had been doing this for 5 minutes so I was able keep my eyes open as I licked his foot up and down the sole and between the toes. He adjusted the angle of his foot and I complied with what he wanted by wrapping my mouth around his first two toes and sucking the sweat off his toes. I made sure to press my tongue several times between his toes. He moved his foot to allow me to suck each of his toes and lick thoroughly between each toe.
It seemed to go on for an eternity. I felt like a permanent foot slave who was only worthy of licking my Master’s feet. I lost track of time and forgot to check my watch but he stopped me after 10 minutes and it was finally over.
I felt great relief once his foot was no longer right in my face and mouth. I felt like I was alive again.
Strangely, I had less trouble recovering from this latest session compared to the last one which was his bare feet just rubbing on the surface of my face, I was able to sit on the couch and make eye contact without having to gather my senses.
I thought about that for a moment. Licking his feet was far worse than either of the other sessions. I figured that I was getting used to being completely humiliated at his feet so maybe future sessions wouldn’t be so bad.
He held out a $20 bill and asked “How do you feel?”
I took the money and said “Thank you, sir. I feel okay. Richer.” I even was able to smile and he smiled back.
He asked “Are you ready for more?”
I did not know if I could handle any more today so I deflected and said “I think I need a break, may I have some juice or cola or something?”
He chuckled and said “Sure, I guess the taste of my feet is not exactly something you want to savor. Is orange juice okay?” and I said “Yes, thank you.” He went into the kitchen and brought back a big glass of cold orange juice. I again said “Thank you” and emptied the glass. I declined his offer for more juice.
The juice was great at removing the foot taste from my mouth. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth and I could not taste any foot flavor at all so I was grateful for that. I did not think that I could take any more humiliation today so I was glad when he started talking about fantasy football.
After another 5 minutes, though, we returned to the uncomfortable subject when he asked “So, are you ready to make some more money today?”
I had decided that I was not ready for that and would try to postpone for another day. I really didn’t want to blow this opportunity for making quick cash in the future so I tried to be very careful in what I said.
“I really would like to and I hope you will have me over again, but I think I’m tired for today and need to get some rest.” Getting rest sounded like an excuse so I internally kicked myself, but I had to say something.
He said “Okay, that’s cool. We can get together another day.” It sounded like he was disappointed and was trying to cover it up.
I was panicking that he was not going to want to get together any more so I said “If you’re not tired or anything now, I could go on some more today.” I was pathetic, I didn’t want any more today but I was so afraid that he wouldn’t give me any more money that I was basically begging him to let me grovel at my feet. I felt ashamed but I still felt it was the right thing to do.
He said “Are you sure? You’re not too tired?”
I said “I’m sure, I’ll do whatever you want.” Pathetic.
That brightened him up so at least it was worth it. He said “Ok, how about a freebie, I’ll pay you for the next thing but how about if you get on your hands and knees, crawl to me, kiss the tops of my bare feet several times, and beg me to let you lick my feet. It should only take less than a minute and I won’t make you lick my feet but this one’s on you.”
He was working me. He wanted me to feel maximum humiliation and he is good at it. He could tell that I was desperate for more money. He knew I wouldn’t refuse his freebie.
I got down on my hands and knees, bowed my head, crawled towards his feet, and planted several kisses on the tops of each of his bare feet. Over and over I kissed his feet. I asked myself why was I doing this? There was no payment here, but I knew that there would be payment later.
It was difficult to push myself up on my knees for the next part, was I really going to beg him to allow me to lick his feet? The sad thing was that I meant it, I really did want to lick his feet because it meant more cash so I really was begging, and that made it all the more humiliating.
I got up on my knees and without thinking about it limped my wrists so they were hanging in front of me like a fucking dog and said “Please, sir, please may I lick your bare feet” and I meant it so I said it even more earnestly “Please, please sir, please let me lick the sweat off your feet.”
He was beaming. It seemed like he grew to 10 feet tall in front of me. He said “Ok, for $20 you can lick my bare feet for 20 minutes, just like you did before.”
He put one foot crossed over on the other knee, like before. I didn’t even think about the taste or the humiliation, I just started licking all over his foot. I felt really low like I was worse than dirt but I was getting used to that feeling and had already decided that the money was worth it. As I continued to lick the sole of his foot and between his toes, I thought about the money, this time it was $20 for 20 minutes which meant $60 for an hour which was about 3 hours of pay at my job. I didn’t like the direction that was heading. At some point it wouldn’t be worth it to do all of these things but still, 20 minutes of this extreme humiliation was better than 3 hours of work.
Or I think it is. I’m not sure, it is difficult to think when all I could see is his bare foot in front of me, all I could feel is his sole on my tongue, and all I could taste was his foot. I closed my eyes and just kept licking, I would think about this later.
10 minutes licking one foot is a very long time. It felt like 3 hours as every humiliating second seemed to drag on. And then I had to do the same to the other foot. I know I could make it the full 20 minutes but I didn’t think I could ever look him in the eye again, maybe I couldn’t ever look anyone in the eye again after this.
As I was licking his other foot I tried to think about something else entirely, fantasy football, but I couldn’t do it, all I could think and all I could feel was hit foot and toes on my tongue like it would be there forever.
Towards the end of the 20 minutes I started to cry. I felt so humiliated that I had no control over my show of emotion and tears streamed down my face. I had to keep licking to earn the $20 so I was able to finish but when he said time is up I collapsed with my face to the carpet next to his feet, he rested one foot on top of my head to make me feel even lower. It felt like I was doomed to always be at his feet for the rest of my life.
After maybe 30 seconds I realized that my situation was not so bad. The session was over and I had earned my $20. I did not need to lie her under his foot.
I got up onto my knees and accepted the $20 he handed out. I wiped the tears from my eyes and as I was getting up he said “Ready for more money, boy?”
I wanted to say please let me rest, let me have a break, how about more juice? But I thought about the money again and knew that I had to acquiesce. “Yes, sir, I am ready sir.”
He said “Stay on your knees while I explain your next task. I am going to pay you $50 for 15 minutes. How does that sound?”
I replied “It sounds good, sir, thank you.” My gosh, $50 for 15 minutes was $200 an hour which was 8 hours of work or 12 hours with the tax adjustment. 12 hours of work or 15 minutes of licking his feet? I’d take the feet and love it.
He continued “You will lie on the ground with your face under my bare feet just as you did earlier except that you will not be wearing any clothes, and you will jack off and climax while my toes are in your mouth.”
Fucking pervert, no way. Pay me $1 million and then we can talk about it. I got up off my knees and sat on the couch. I remembered that he was not evil, just having fun with his weird kind of sadism and he wasn’t doing anything non-consensual so I calmed down right away.
I told him “I would rather not do that.”
He said “Are you sure? I could increase the dollar amount if that is what it would take.”
I wanted to say how about $1000 but I knew that wasn’t reasonable. I said “I don’t even know what dollar amount it would take.”
He said “Well, let’s come up with a number. Let’s start with $50 and go up, how about $75?”
I needed to think about this, he wasn’t close with his dollar amount but there was an amount which would be worth it. I said “Let me think a moment” so he said “Okay, I will be back in a few minutes” and left the room.
How many hours of work would it be worth to me to… geez, he wanted me to jack off with his toes in my mouth? How humiliating is that? I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating in the world which wasn’t also painful like torture or whatever. Jacking off with a guy’s toes in my mouth had to be the most humiliating thing I could even imagine.
Ok, so would I rather work 50 hours or do this? Have I mentioned lately how much I hate working? Why can’t I have money like he does or at least enough that I can be sure to retire at a decent age? However much I make today won’t allow me to retire early but if I invest it with the other meager savings I have and let it grow, it would help. And if he had me back other days it really could add up to a lot of money.
Did I want to be back other days?
I calmed my thoughts and just relaxed for a moment. 50 hours of work is not in the ballpark, I would much rather do this, and I could not even think clearly about this without just thinking “this”, than work 50 hours. How about 25 hours? 3 days of work was much worse than this. 2 days of work, that still seemed worse than this. Our discussion seemed like a negotiation so I should probably stop at 2 days of work and then we can agree on a middle ground.
How low would I go? That was a bad choice of thoughts, I felt about as low as dirt already. I meant, how many hours of work would be better than doing this? 10 hours of work, that is, working backwards, $250 minus tax taken out so $220 or so divided by 4 since it would only be for 15 minutes so $55. Wait, $55? That’s not enough. Work that again, I remembered from the first sock session $50 for 15 minutes is 12 hours of work, so maybe my math is a bit off but that is in the right ballpark.
Is my life so bad that I work at a job which is only marginally better than having to lick another guy’s bare feet? I guess my job is still 4 or 6 times better than licking his feet so it’s not the same.
I guess $50 or $75 was the right amount, as scary as it was to think how humiliated I would be, I decided that I would do this for $75.
He took a while to return, around 10 minutes. He was wearing different tennis shoes and white socks and his forehead had a bit of perspiration as if he had exerted himself. He was short on breath as he said “So what is it going to be?” and sat down on the couch.
I said “How about $100?” and he quickly said “Sounds good.”
That was it, no negotiating or anything. I should have started higher.
He said “Stand up” and when I was up he said “Take all of your clothes off.”
I tried to think of this as a doctor’s office but I failed, all I could think of is that he is getting his sexual fantasies satisfied by me and I was allowing it to happen. I felt dirty all over, not just in my mouth from his foot taste.
I took off my shirt, shoes, socks, and pants and paused to see if that was enough, but I knew it wasn’t and continued to take off my underwear. I stood completely naked before him. I was sure that he was feeling all sorts of sexual pleasure but this was about as un-sexual as a situation could get for me.
He told me “Lie down next to the couch” so I did that. He still had his shoes and socks on and started to take those off, as he did he told me “I had a quick workout just now and was able to get my feet a little sweaty for you, I hope you like the taste.”
Fucking asshole. Why does he have to say things like that? Maybe he was evil and I was just fooling myself. Let’s get this over with, this is the last thing I’m doing like this tonight, I just couldn’t take any more of this after this.
Once his feet were bare he pressed his big toe to sort of force my mouth open. I wasn’t as accommodating this time because I felt that I had had just about enough but I did put my lips around his first two toes and started licking and sucking his toes. That quickly turned my anger into humiliation and I closed my eyes tight so that I wouldn’t cry any more. He put his other bare foot over my eyes.
He allowed me the pleasure of sucking his toes for a while, I couldn’t tell how long but it was probably a couple of minutes and then he said “Now touch yourself. As soon as you climax we’re done and you have earned your pay.”
That was good news, he was not going to prolong this to 15 minutes. Maybe it would only last 5 or 7 minutes and then it would be the equivalent of $400 or more per hour. $400 is a whole lot of money so I felt better about the situation now. I felt like a whore but $400 is really a lot of money.
I loosened my eyelids although they were still covered by the foot which was not in my mouth. I continued to suck his toes as I reached my hand down to my penis and starting touching myself. Usually when I masturbate it is while looking at something pleasurable so my penis sort of meets me halfway but this time it was completely limp and I wasn’t looking at something pleasurable, I was doing something heinous.
I tried to stroke myself to feel good but there was no response. Masturbation is easy but not when sucking on another guy’s toes.
Maybe this was going to take longer than 15 minutes.
I tried harder to make myself hard, I wanted this humiliation to end as soon as possible and then I would pick up my clothes and run out of his house to my car. I stroked myself and eventually was able to get a response, it took me several minutes of touching myself to get fully erect and then I kept stroking until I was just about to release, for some reason at this moment I focused on sticking my tongue deep between his toes and my senses were more focused on his toes than on my penis.
I climaxed much more explosively than I do normally, with his toes in my mouth and his other foot pressing on my face those two sensations outweighed even the pleasurable sensation in my penis and I sucked harder on his toes to try to savor the very wild passion I was feeling at the moment.
The climax was over and I was spent. His toes were still in my mouth but I had lost energy to suck on them so my tongue just played on the tips of his toes. My penis quickly went back to its original position and I was wet on my lower stomach.
I wondered what has just happened? Why was this much more explosive than all of the other times I had masturbated? I’m using the wrong term, it was more explosive but it was also more pleasurable. I hated to admit it to myself but I just had the most pleasurable masturbation while his toes were in my mouth.
I found the answer to that as I thought about it for a few seconds. It was because it took so much touching myself to get to the stage of climax, that is why it was so pleasurable. By the time I climaxed, I was so ready for it that I was bursting at the seams.
Well, that was a relief, I didn’t even want to think of how I’d feel if I needed his toes in my mouth for a good climax.
I don’t know how long passed while I was in this dream-like post-climactic state, probably only a few seconds because he didn’t say anything about time passing.
He lifted his feet off my face and handed me a roll of paper towels to clean up my lower stomach. He handed me a $100 bill and I took it gratefully, I had earned it. I wiped myself off with a few paper towels and then got up and got dressed. He didn’t say anything but he was watching me so he was still getting his jollies looking at me.
I said “I’m going to the bathroom” and he playfully said “Ok, hurrryyy back!”
Hurry back, my ass. He had manipulated me into doing something I didn’t want to do and when I wasn’t even ready to do anything more today. He was superior to me because he was rich, yes, but he was also dominating me with manipulation and I really felt lower than dirt because of it.
But as I was in the bathroom I thought that even with all that I had been through, I had made good money and I had made the right decisions. Just in the couple of hours I had made $240 and a lot of that time was just talking or drinking juice. $240 was worth it in my mind for what I went through.
If it was worth it, why do I feel so bad and want to cry again?
I let myself cry for a minute. It was just too overwhelming, I was so humiliated. I made myself think on the details of what I just did, I had a great climax while he watched as his bare feet were on my face and I was sucking on his sweaty toes. Was that really worth $240?
I couldn’t think, I decided to answer that question later. As painful as it was, I wanted to lock in the memory of the humiliation I was feeling now so that I could make a good decision when I was home later.
He had told me to hurry back but he was allowing me time in the bathroom. I was ready to return but I needed to prepare myself for when he asked me if I wanted more money today. I needed for no to mean no this time, I was going to stand firm. I mean it, I am going to say no and stick to it.
I gathered up my resolve and met him back in the living room. He was standing and said “Thanks for coming over today, I need to get ready for a dinner date I have this evening.” He was ending this get-together and I was very thankful for that.
He continued “This was one of the greatest experiences of my life, thank you” and he held out his hand for us to shake hands. Thinking about the extra $240 in my pocket I held out my hand and gave a hearty handshake.
I definitely wanted to leave the door open for more cash to come my way, even though I wasn’t sure that I wanted it, so I said “Me too, I enjoyed it a whole lot and hopefully we can get together again.”
We released hands and he said “Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset earlier.”
I stammered and said “I was upset but that’s part of being a poor person as I am.” I am not actually poor but next to him I felt like a hobo. I continued “It’s not a problem, I’m hoping that you enjoyed it to?” I was fishing for him to say yes even though he had already told me that he enjoyed it a whole lot, I felt like I was begging him to let me come over again. I was pathetic, I may as well have dropped to my knees and kissed his feet some more.
He said “Yes, it was great. I will e-mail you late tonight.” In a re-assuring tone he said “I’m sure we can get together again another day.”
I replied “Great, thanks!”
He walked me to the door and said “Have a great evening” and I said “You too” as I left his house.
It was finally over. I felt as though I had been tortured all day and was finally set free but I had not been inflicted with anything, I did it all myself. I felt like such a loser.
I cried during the drive home.
During the drive home I decided that I would not make any decisions for the next few days about whether or not I would accept an offer from him of more money. If he asked, I would deflect the issue or stall for time. I just couldn’t handle all of this humiliation and my sense of self-worth was at an all-time low.
When I got home I put the $240 I had earned in my hand to try to bring up my spirits. $240 is a lot of money but as I was home thinking about what I had just gone through, it didn’t seem like enough.
When I was calculating the rate of pay per hour I kept having $200 or $300 in my thoughts for each session so how did it all add up to only $240? I made sure that Andrew gave me the right bill and the bills didn’t magically reduce in value on the drive home.
Thinking back to re-calculate the money I earned for the least humiliating session, when his smelly socked feet were in my face … gosh that was horrible. I felt like a part of me had died under his feet for the first time. I don’t even want to think about the other…. Nevermind, calculating, $50 for 15 minutes, that is $200 per hour so maybe $250 if you take away the tax, that is 10 hours of my work. So he paid me for 10 hours of my work.
Oh no, wait. He paid me $50. That is only 2 and a half hours of my work. I calculated it wrong. I think that would be okay for the first session of socks and maybe the second session, but. Oh my god, session 3 was $20 for 10 minutes, I licked the sweat from all over his bare feet for just one hour of pay. And I achieved….
I felt sick.
I went into bed and wanted to pass out but instead I cried and sobbed. And then I became angry. I pounded the pillow and the bed with both of my fists, I became almost enraged even as I cried. I had enough awareness to avoid hurting myself or causing damage in my apartment but I let it all out, I pounded and pounded my bed until my wrists hurt even just hitting pillows and a soft bed.
I became fatigued and my anger started to recede. My anger was not aimed at Andrew, it was all at myself for letting myself be abused like that. Andrew did not do anything wrong at all, he was perverted but he never forced me to do anything, I agreed to everything.
After my tantrum, the rest of the night my emotions were mostly numb and I just mindlessly watched TV instead of the more fun hobbies I usually enjoy. For the next several days I decided to just watch TV most of the time and allow my crushed ego to heal.
Andrew e-mailed me late that same night as he said he would but I did not read it until the next morning. I skimmed to the end, passing the sections where he was probably just trying to humiliate me further, and when I read “if you are interested in coming over tomorrow afternoon, I have more money for you” I clicked Reply and just typed “I’m going to need some time, thank you for the e-mail, I will contact you soon” and clicked Send. He responded with just “no problem.” I did not login to chat, I did not want to deal with Andrew or with anyone for the next few days.
On that Tuesday night, 3 days after the afternoon of horror, I was starting to feel okay. I was still going to just watch TV but I also decided not to skip my personal session in front of the computer. Tuesday and Thursday night as well as Sunday afternoon, though not this past Sunday afternoon, I would touch myself while browsing certain sites on the internet and I decided that I was okay with this tonight.
It was okay but not nearly as pleasurable as usual because I was still feeling depressed from the past weekend. One of the few genuine pleasures in my life wasn’t all that good but I had felt myself recovering and felt that I would be okay soon.
By Thursday night I was feeling quite a bit better. I decided that I was completely done with Andrew unless he paid me 8 or 10 times as much as previously. For $400 or $500 cash I would lick his feet for 15 minutes but not for less money than that or for longer. And it would take $1000 cash for me achieve orgasm with his toes in my mouth.
I knew that he was capable of giving me that type of money so I may have to deal with the possibility of coping with the same sort of humiliation as last weekend. But for that amount of money, it would really be worth it. And I would not e-mail him asking or begging, I would e-mail him as a courtesy because I said I would e-mail him but he would need to offer me that good money or else it was no deal.
Now that I had a plan thought out, I was ready to stand firm to it. He could not manipulate me into waffling. I tried to think of the ways he could try to manipulate me but I knew he wouldn’t just outright cheat me such as promising to pay and then not paying, if I was any judge of character he was sadistic and perverted, but not a cheat. In any case, I would not feel bad about myself if he did something so bad as cheating me, that is what hurt me the most, I was the cause of my distress last weekend.
I still wasn’t ready to e-mail him, I would do that tomorrow night.
Later on Thursday evening I started browsing to those sites again and touching myself but I still wasn’t firing on all cylinders. It felt okay, I didn’t feel depressed or sick to my stomach like I had earlier in the week, but it just didn’t give me the same pleasure it used to. I guess having to do this in front of Andrew is still tough to get over.
On Friday night I e-mailed him a very brief e-mail “Hi Andrew, how is your fantasy football team looking so far this year?” I still did not login to chat.
He replied only a few minutes later “great. how would you like to earn some more money?”
I interpreted this as his way of begging me to participate in his little sordid games. It felt like the shoe was on the other foot now, but then I really hated that metaphor because it brought up bad memories.
I wrote back “I’m looking to make a lot more cash this time” and clicked Send. My e-mails are usually not nearly as terse but I didn’t want to seem like I was begging for his cash or that it was a big deal to me.
He responded “how about $60 for 15 minutes?”
He didn’t specify exactly what but that was not nearly enough. I didn’t want to keep e-mailing back and forth as he’d increase the amount by increments so I wrote “I’m going to need $500 for 15 minutes” and clicked Send.
My heart started beating more rapidly. What if he said yes to that? I was hoping he said yes because that was a ridiculously huge amount of money for just 15 minutes but I was afraid he would say yes because it would mean having to go through a humiliating ordeal again.
This time he didn’t respond until a half hour later with “dude that’s too much, how about $100.”
I thought about antagonizing him with something like “I thought you were rich but I guess you just don’t have that much money” but I thought better of it and knew that this wouldn’t accomplish anything except feed my own anger, which had receded by now. So I responded “Nah” and clicked Send.
He quickly responded “ok, see you around” and that was that.
That was the end of that. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I could breathe again and it seemed like a dark cloud was removed from my vision as the room seemed brighter. I didn’t realize how much the thought of that hanging over me had affected me but suddenly I felt like I could face the world again without hanging my head.
I looked back on the ordeal as a learning experience, a very painful one. I learned that I need to rely on my best feature which is my sense of logic. I need to concentrate more on that, had I don’t that my calculations would have made more sense and I would have seen that it wasn’t a good deal for me, or at least I could have made a better informed decision. Had I not gotten so emotional I could have left when I wanted to leave, before he had me touch myself while his toes were in my mouth.
Maybe it was like having my mouth washed out with soap when I was a little brat kid. Only this time my mouth was washed out with his sweaty feet. The effect was the same, I would never do the things which led to those punishments.
I figured that this was the end of the story. And I all lived happily ever after.
But that was not the case. There was still one lingering side effect which I had to resolve.
On the Sunday after the horror weekend, after my life had brightened up by cutting any hold Andrew had on me, I still wasn’t able to get much pleasure from the private time I had in front of my PC. I guess I needed more time to get over it.
But even after more time, I was not getting over it. Tuesday night, Thursday night, Sunday, Tuesday night, Thursday night, Sunday, and Tuesday night all the same, not much pleasure. There just wasn’t the same excitement and when I did achieve orgasm, it was just sort of blah.
I didn’t feel traumatized any more by the ordeal almost 3 weeks ago, I was over it almost two weeks ago. Was I just getting tired of the internet sites I was using? Those had always worked for me for years. On that Thursday night I tried some different sites and even paid to join a new site. It was all very interesting and exciting in a way but I was still just not getting nearly as much pleasurable reaction as I had several weeks ago.
I guess I could try a prostitute but no, that is way too expensive and I probably wouldn’t enjoy it at all anyway even if I could get over being nervous.
I was thinking about what else I could try and I thought back to the last time I had a particularly pleasurable experience. It was…. Oh god, it was while I was sucking on Andrews toes.
No, I’m not even going to think about that. That wasn’t a pleasurable experience overall, it was a nightmare. I admit that the physical feeling at that moment was … it was heaven, I’m remembering. It was absolute heaven. I was getting an erection just thinking about it.
Oh shit. I can’t think about this, I am just going to find another way. So I browsed the internet sites some more and brought myself closer to orgasm when without thinking about my actions I closed my eyes and fantasized having his toes in my mouth … and I achieved the best orgasm I had by far since that weekend.
What just happened? Don’t panic and don’t try to avoid it, just calm down and think about it. I had just of my own accord fantasized about sucking on a guy’s toes while having a great orgasm. A guy who had made me his bitch and left me crying with humiliation. Let’s start there because it can’t go any lower than that.
But it was just a fantasy, it was not real. There were no toes this time and there was no humiliation. I was able to find pleasure, a lot of pleasure, on my own without relying on some sadistic fiend. There was no harm done and everything was fine.
I was really glad I thought it through. It really was fine, kind of weird, but whatever.
The following Sunday I tried just focusing on the internet sites but it was clear that wasn’t going to work. Hey, how about finding a real girlfriend? I was taunting myself, I was too shy to find anyone quickly and maybe to find anyone at all. I figured I would probably find a woman who I was good for at some point but going to parties or nightclubs just made me feel extremely awkward and hurt my self-esteem so those were no help. I could maybe join a club where people got together and enjoyed some hobby but all of the hobbies I enjoyed were male-oriented and very few women seemed to want to participate.
I decided that it was okay for me to fantasize about whatever I could to make me feel good. Whatever floats your boat. In my case, it was Andrews toes and fantasizing about those toes and even remembering the taste and the feel between his toes helped me explode into another very pleasurable orgasm. Wow, that was good, and I was just going to keep fantasizing about that.
On the following Tuesday I decided that I should try some deflection I think they call it in psychology. Instead of thinking of a guy’s toes I would think of a woman’s toes. It felt strange to look up internet sites of female feet and so far none of them were turning me on at all. I tried hard to look at a picture of female toes and imagine those in my mouth but I couldn’t even stroke myself erect while looking at those.
I felt dirty so I stopped and decided to skip Tuesday night.
On the following Thursday night I tried looking at female feet for a few minutes but it just wasn’t working. I didn’t know what else I could do so I thought about Andrews toes and had an immediate erection which led me to another wonderful explosion. Afterwards, I was frustrated but I realized that it was better than nothing so I counted my lucky stars, so to speak.
For the following Sunday I decided that I needed to try some other deflection. I read about some other things guys like to look at and tried some of those although other of those were too far for me and I didn’t try everything. Nothing I looked at gave me any sort of positive reaction. In a way I was glad, I would prefer to be normal whatever that is, but I was disappointed that I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would probably be Andrew’s bitch, or Andrew’s toes’ bitch, for a long time. But it really didn’t have anything to do with Andrew, he wasn’t here and I hadn’t even communicated with him for several weeks. He was out of the picture.
One of the other things guys like to look at but which was too far for me was looking at other guys’ bare feet. I found that there are plenty of gay guys who like to look at guys’ feet but also straight guys who liked that. It didn’t make sense to me that a straight guy could get a sexual reaction from a guy’s bare feet but whatever floats your boat. I stopped myself and realized that this described my exact situation so I guess it made sense for me, in a twisted way.
I decided to try to look at other guys’ bare feet to deflect myself away from Andrew’s feet. It wasn’t much better to my ego to think that if I was successful I would enjoy looking at guys’ feet but at least it would be someone I wouldn’t know, someone who didn’t victimize and utterly humiliate me.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, looking at guys’ feet didn’t do anything positive for me. It made me feel disgusted actually, and brought back bad memories of several weeks ago. I decided to wait until Tuesday to try anything again.
The next Tuesday night I decided to just go with what I felt and I didn’t fight the feeling when I closed my eyes and imagined Andrew’s bare foot on my forehead and his sweaty bare toes in my mouth. Somehow, even the humiliation of that moment and vividly remembering the taste made me more excited. Allowing myself to lose myself in this memory and fantasy helped me have the best orgasm since that weekend several weeks ago. As soon as it was over I felt about as happy as I have ever felt, it just felt so good and I knew that I could repeat the experience as I did on Thursday night.
Now it isn’t much of a story to read about a guy pleasuring himself, but there is a point to all of this.
On Friday early in the evening Andrew e-mailed me again with just “how is it going? I miss you.” That’s a strange thing to say in this situation but I knew what he meant, he missed being able to humiliate me to tears.
I responded with just “Fine, how are you?”
He replied “I miss you. would you mind joining me on chat?”
My heart started beating faster but it was not a problem. I did not hate him for what he had done to me and I no longer hated myself for it. In a way I forgave him because it was just in his nature to enjoy causing humiliation and he didn’t do anything at all which was non-consensual. I had not logged in to chat since that weekend, I am not sure why but I think I just didn’t have anything really to chat about with anyone.
I logged onto chat and he quickly messaged me:
Drew: are you doing ok?
Tedman: Yes I am fine, how about you?
Drew: i have been worried about you but i didn’t want to cause you any distress by emailing you
Tedman: It’s okay, I got over it
Drew: that is good, are you sure? you really seemed emotional
Tedman: It was a very emotional time but I am sure I am fine
Tedman: Thank you for being concerned about me
Drew: i didn’t want to hurt you
Tedman: It’s okay, don’t worry about it
Drew: will you accept my apology?
The chat seemed to be building toward this apology and I wasn’t sure how I would react if and when it occurred. I’m human and I’m sure there is some lingering pain from that weekend but it’s very therapeutic to forgive.
Tedman: Yes, I accept your apology
Drew: thank you
Drew: that means a lot to me
Tedman: You are welcome
Drew: would you let me make it up to you by buying you lunch tomorrow?
I hesitated. I really didn’t know if I wanted to but he had apparently been wracked by guilt the past few weeks and I wouldn’t mind easing his pain by letting him buy me lunch. Heck, I don’t think I have ever said no to a free lunch. He was already typing his next comment by the time I started my response.
Drew: i have some advice to ask you about my fantasy football team
Tedman: Yes, lunch tomorrow would be good
Drew: great! do you like italian food?
For free food I would like just about anything!
Tedman: Yes, Italian food is good
Drew: great, i will send you an e-mail with the address
Drew: is noon okay?
Tedman: Yes, noon is fine
Drew: see you then!
I felt really good after this chat. Not only was he sorry for what he had done to me but he was going out of his way to apologize. And I would get to face my victimizer and bury the demons which I probably still had from that ordeal. After lunch tomorrow I would be whole again.
Andrew was still the cool, fun guy to be around which I remembered from before. We talked about fantasy football, joked about some of the other guys in the league, and even talked about a few other things besides football. The Italian restaurant was ridiculously expensive and the food was ridiculously good. Just my own lunch cost more than double what I would make in 2 hours of work. I could have had 8 of my usual meals for the price of this 1. Now that is what I call a good free lunch, and a good apology.
We did not talk about what happened weeks ago, he had already apologized on chat and he was treating me to this great lunch.
When we were done and it was time to go, he asked “How about coming by my place for a milk shake?”
I said “This won’t be like the last time we had milk shakes, will it?”
He was alarmed and said “No, I swear, nothing like that, I swear it.”
I didn’t want him to go into an apology in the restaurant so I interrupted him, chuckling I said “I’m just joking, don’t worry. It’s okay.” He calmed down.
I said “Sure, I don’t get milk shakes too often so I’m game.”
We met at his huge house and we sat in the same couch where I had gone through the ordeal many weeks ago. It felt like over a year ago. This seemed like the final step in my healing process, to sit enjoying a milk shake and talking with a fun friend.
He asked “Why don’t you have milk shakes often?”
I said “Well, they never come out right when I make them and they are expensive when I get them from an ice cream shop.”
I felt a bit of distance between us at that moment with the whole rich and not rich thing, so I decided that mentioning money with Andrew wasn’t a good idea in the future.
He said “Thank you for coming over and letting me take you to lunch. I wanted to say to your face, I am very sorry for what I put you through. No-one deserves what you went through and I hope that you can forgive me some day.” It seemed as though he was almost in tears, this was the most sincere apology I think I had ever seen.
I replied “I will be honest with you. It was the worst experience by far in my life. But I think it helped me, that which doesn’t kill you makes you strong. In any case, I have been long past thinking about it.” He seemed to want more from me so I said “I completely forgive you.”
He brightened up and said “Thank you. You are really a special person and thank you for being so kind to me.”
I said “No problem.”
At that point he contentedly leaned back and crossed his shoe over his knee and I had a bit of a flashback. But it wasn’t a painful flashback. I quickly realized that I wasn’t having a flashback to the horrible Saturday from several weeks ago. I was having a flashback to….
No. This isn’t healthy. I need to stop this. I was having a flashback to my masturbation sessions when his bare foot was in my mouth. I was getting hard.
I looked forward, away from his foot, and I pulled a nearby pillow over me as if I was trying to get comfortable. I tried breathing regularly.
He was finishing his milk shake so he probably did not notice anything.
I realized that I had to work on this issue. I felt that what happened in the privacy of my own apartment was fine but I could not let it affect me in the real world.
But I was wrong about him not noticing anything.
He asked “Why are you covering yourself with the pillow?”
I began to sweat and said “My back is hurting me a little and I can’t get comfortable. The couch is fine but I must have tweaked my back yesterday during work and it isn’t easy for me to get comfortable.”
I never lie. I don’t know how I was able to come up with a plausible lie and I hoped I was convincing in my performance. But apparently not.
He asked “Are you hard?”
What the hell kind of question is that? That is not an appropriate question to ask and even if it’s true it’s not anyone’s business.
I was nonplussed and did not answer.
He asked “Are you hard because of my foot?”
His tone was no nonchalant as if it was just a natural question one friend would ask another.
My face turned red with embarrassment. I was still trying to think of a response but from my reaction he did not need me to say anything.
He removed his dress shoe and black sock and the sole of his bare foot crossed on his knee was now pointing directly at me. It seemed like a gun or the launcher of a cruise missile was pointed right at me and I felt like a deer in the headlights. Except it was not death that was threatening me, it was pleasure.
I had told myself that the lesson I learned was to rely on logic but my logic was completely out the window at this point.
He then said what I was absolutely dreading he would say, and what I hoped with all of my being that he would say.
He said “Get on your knees and lick my foot.”
He did not say it as a command, his tone of voice was gentle, alluring, like he was giving me permission to do what I yearned for.
I got on my knees.
But then I was able to think about this. Warning bells within me brought my logic back into play and I thought about what I was doing.
I wanted this badly but would it be worth the consequences? Let’s think through the consequences.
He said “Take your time” seeing that I had an internal struggle.
One consequence is that he would probably humiliate me by taunting me, and he would probably lord over me that he is superior and I am inferior. But the thought of this made me feel excited, I wasn’t sure if this was a consequence or a benefit. Humiliation was a big part of the fantasy at home, so maybe I could let myself enjoy it here?
Another consequence is that I might hate myself when it was over. I certainly hated myself the last time. But if I allowed myself the freedom to enjoy the experience, would I hate myself? What actual harm would be done except humiliation, if I allowed myself to enjoy that wouldn’t there be no harm at all?
What other consequence might there be? He wouldn’t respect me any more? I guess that was possible but that didn’t seem to matter, he felt superior anyway and he certainly enjoyed the experience the last time. I could not make sense of this question so I skipped it.
I couldn’t think of any other potential consequence. Really, what harm could there be with two consensual adults doing something that they both enjoy?
It became clearer over the 10 or 15 seconds of my internal struggle, that I would allow myself the pleasure I wanted for the past few weeks. As this became clear, my erection returned to push against my pants and I did not go out of my way to hide it as I knelt on the carpet.
I looked up to him and he smiled and said “Crawl here and lick my bare foot.”
I was ecstatic. I crawled to his foot and licked his sole. It tasted exactly like I remembered, even though it had been 6 or 7 weeks my memory was very vivid 3 times a week for the past week. His foot tasted like a sweaty foot. And I loved it.
I was in ecstasy licking up and down his sole and sucking each toe individually while licking between each toe. He was leaning back just enjoying watching me while I was somewhat panting with joy. He took off his other shoe and sock and swapped feet so I avidly licked and sucked his other foot. I don’t know how long he let me do this, it felt like forever which is how long it felt the last time I had done this, but for a very different reason.
I was so hard that it was almost torture to keep my pants on while licking his foot. It felt like forever until he said “Lie down and pull down your pants.”
I obeyed and felt lower than dirt, and it was the greatest feeling in the world. He put one bare foot on my forehead covering my eyes and he inserted a couple of his toes from his other foot into my mouth. He did not need to tell me what to do with my hands.
Just like that weekend many weeks ago, I exploded into the best orgasm of my life. I felt completely humiliated and like dirt under my Master’s feet and it felt like heaven.
Afterwards, when we were sitting on the couch again talking, he told me “I have fantasized about that every day for the past several weeks.”
I said “Me too.”
He said “I won’t ask you how that could be but if you ever want to talk about it, I am here.”
I said “Thank you” and smiled. I continued “Some day I am sure I will be able to try to explain it.”
He said hesitantly “Do you think you would like to meet again sometime?”
I knew he would ask that and I hoped for it. I looked into his eyes and said “Yes, I would love that.”
Normally, that would be the end of this story. They all lived happily ever after. I shouldn’t use the term normal to describe this situation. But anyway, that was not the end of the story.
Weeks later, Andrew and I had strengthened our friendship and I licked his feet 3 times a week. I learned that he is gay and he learned that I am not. He never pressured me or tried to convert me, he just received intense pleasure at humiliating me with his feet 3 times a week and allowing me to achieve orgasm with my face under his feet while he watched. Sometimes we would play wrestle and he would hold my face down with his bare feet, sometimes he would make me grovel and beg to lick his feet, sometimes he would just allow my face to serve as his foot rest for his bare feet as he watched TV, and all of it was heaven to both of us.
One Sunday when I arrived at his house he asked me if I liked my job. I had already told him many times that I hated working but I let him lead the conversation so I just said no.
He said “How would you feel about working for me?”
I said “You have an opening for a data entry clerk?” and we laughed.
He replied “No, but I would enjoy having a foot slave around the house.”
I said “You already have a foot slave.”
He clarified “I meant all of the time.”
That turned me on. But as usual I tried to think of benefits and consequences before making a decision.
The benefits were obvious, I don’t know how much or how often the human body can experience orgasm but I would probably be pushed to my limits with that. That alone would probably outweigh any consequences I could think of.
Andrew knew me well enough to recognize that my wheels were turning and he let me think it through.
For a consequence, what if I quit my job and then he decides later that he doesn’t want me here. Or even if he keeps me as a foot slave for months or years, what about after that? I would be broke, homeless, and jobless. That didn’t seem good.
I was about to point this out when he said “I know what you are thinking. You wonder if we can last.”
I nodded my head.
He said “If you agree with my proposal to quit your job and live with me, I will put 1 million dollars in a bank account of your choice and every year I will add 1 hundred thousand dollars to it.”
I could not believe what I was hearing. I think I was happier to hear that than I was to be his foot slave.
What a strange sentence, happier to be a millionaire than to be a foot slave, of course anyone would be but in this case it wasn’t an obvious thing.
I said “You are going to have the best foot slave you could ever imagine. If you want me to do chores around here or whatever, I will do whatever you want me to do, sir. Master.”
He was beaming. He took a moment to collect himself and said “Slave, you have made me the happiest person in the world.”
I said “Me too. I think we are tied for the happiest.”
And they did live happily ever after.
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