The Sun Was Setting In The Distant City, Its Warm Oranges And Yellows Cascading Over The Horizon As Days

The sun was setting in the distant city, its warm oranges and yellows cascading over the horizon as days work came to a close. In one small, suburban neighborhood, a grandfather was hard at work in his garden, his big manly feet poking out from underneath the dirt and soil mounds, a strange sight for such a small lot.

The grandfather's grandson, Robert, watched from the porch, his light brown eyes unwavering as he fixated on his grandpa's huge, furry feet. Robert had never quite been able to feel comfortable openly expressing his foot fetish, and his grandfather had no knowledge of the strange obsession that had taken ahold of young Robert's mind. But every time he watched his grandpa working in the garden, his eyes were almost certainly glued to those two huge, manly feet.

Robert watched as his grandfather, done with working for the day, plopped down in an old green lawn chair, his size 12s protruding out from underneath the edges and resting against the warm concrete porch. His grandfather quickly drifted off into a nap, snoring loudly and leaving Robert with the opportunity of a lifetime.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Robert nervously made his way into the garden, walking up and stopping beside his grandpa's resting feet. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his palms quickly beginning to sweat with the realization of what he was about to do.

But he was determined. He had come this far, and his grandpa was sound asleep. He couldn't turn back now.

Kneeling down beside his grandpa's feet, Robert couldn't help but take a deep sniff, inhaling the musty, slightly sweaty smell of his grandpa's worn socks. He almost felt as though he were in some sort of trance, unable to think of anything else but his grandpa's bare feet.

Taking a deep breath, Robert finally mustered up the courage to do the unthinkable. He brought his tongue out and slowly licked the dirt and sweat off of his grandfather's feet. Robert could hardly believe he was actually doing it, but he hadn't been able to fight the urge any longer.

Robert was so entranced in his sucking and licking of his grandpa's feet that he completely lost track of time. He almost forgot about his grandpa, until he felt his bare foot slap him hard across the face. Jerking his head up, Robert's eyes widened in surprise when he saw his grandpa staring at him with a mischievous smirk on his face.

'Atta boy, I guess you like my big feet grandson,' his grandpa said, a tone of amusement in his voice. Robert, feeling completely embarrassed and exposed, tried to make a run for it. But his grandpa was too quick.

'Come back here, I'm not done with you,' he said in a stern voice, as Robert reluctantly turned around and slowly made his way back to his grandfather. He watched as his grandpa rose from his seat, his enormous feet standing proudly before him.

For a split second, Robert could see the look of triumph in his grandpa's face, and he immediately knew what was coming next. His grandpa was about to humiliate him.

'You think you can disrespect my feet like that? You think I'm just gonna sit there and let you take advantage of me?' his grandpa shouted, his voice echoing in the sun-bathed suburban neighborhood.

Robert could only watch in silence as his grandpa ranted and raved about the humiliation he had caused. Robert knew it was only a matter of time before his grandpa would make his final demand.

'You think you know about worshipping feet? Well here's your chance. You want my feet, and you're gonna get them. But not just for your own pleasure. You're gonna become my foot faggot. I want you to worship my feet every day, and you better do it right, or else! You got that?'

Robert could only nod his head in fear. He knew his grandpa meant business.

The next few weeks were tough for Robert. His grandpa made him lick his feet every night, and even made his father join in on the fun, degrading Robert even further with every laugh and snicker.

But days passed, and after a while, Robert started to find solace in this strange, new behavior. He began to enjoy worshipping his grandpa's feet more and more each day. He even started to prefer it over anything else.

Even though it was weird and twisted, Robert had come to accept that this was what made his grandpa happy, and that was all that mattered. He was grateful for the chance to make his grandpa's day, even if it meant submitting to his every foot-related whim.

Though Robert still felt embarrassed and confused about the whole situation, he eventually became happy with his new role as foot faggot. His grandpa praised his obedience and dedication, and he made his grandson act as a foot boy from now on licking, sniffing, and praising his grandpa's feet.

Every day after work, Dave sits in his leather arm chair in the sun room. With a snap of his fingers his pathetic foot boy comes over to worship his feet. "Start licking my feet, get them all wet boy." he says chuckling to himself. "Yes sir, your feet own me." The boy proceeds to start tongue bathing Dave's manly feet. Dave sips his coffee relishing in the power he has, making sure to taunt and laugh at the lowly man debasing himself at his feet like a dog to his owner.

Bill, a middle-aged lawyer, had been working long hours in the office, leaving his son home alone more often than not. His son, who was often bored with nothing to do, often spent his time looking out the window, watching as more and more cars drove by. One day, when Bill returned home after a long day at the office, he was surprised to find his son sitting on the floor in a corner of the room. His son's head was ducked down and he was quietly sniffing something. Bill cautiously walked towards his son and, to his surprise, found his son sniffing his dress socks. Bill's face contorted in shock and disgust as he asked his son, 'What are you doing? Why are you smelling my socks?' His son looked up, embarrassed and ashamed. His face was flushed and he was silent for a moment before he mumbled, 'I...I was just curious.

It wasn’t until a week later that the father decided it was time to take action. During the next evening, he asked his son to stay up and wait for him after he finished his shift. Once he arrived home, Bill pulled out the most pungent pair of socks from his closet – his “manly” dress socks – and pointed to them.

“Take a good whiff of these,” he said, and the son compiled without hesitation.

Bill watched as his son took in the musky scent, and suddenly a thought struck him: why not make the experience even more interesting?

He continued, “Now lick them.”

The son, startled, quickly did as he was told. The taste was exactly as he had imagined: salty, sweaty, and pungent. Bill couldn’t help but smile as he watched the shock on his son’s face.

“Do you like it?” he asked, to which the son only nodded in response.

The son looked up at Bill in shock, a mixture of fear and excitement on his face. Bill continued, 'Every day after I come home from work, you will kneel before me and lick my feet. They will be smelly and sweaty from a long day at the office and your job will be to clean them and make them feel refreshed.' The son nodded eagerly, eagerly wanting to please his father. Bill smiled, knowing he had found the perfect way to punish and teach his son a lesson. For weeks, the son would obediently kneel before his father after he arrived home from work. He would take off Bill's shoes and socks and carefully lick and clean his feet. Bill, though slightly uncomfortable at first, soon found himself enjoying the experience. He found himself feeling more relaxed and less stressed when his son was worshiping his feet. The experience soon formed a bond between the father and son. Bill found himself looking forward to coming home at the end of the day, knowing his son would be waiting there to worship his feet. His son, though slightly embarrassed at first, soon found himself enjoying the experience as well, finding solace and comfort in his father's manly soles.