Real Men Come Here To Worship My Hairy, Alpha Pecs, My Rock-hard, Ripped Six-pack, My Huge, Protruding

“Real men come here to worship My hairy, Alpha Pecs, My rock-hard, ripped Six-pack, My huge, protruding biceps and My overall God-like Physique. Nearly all end up having the pleasure of finishing up at My eight inch rod once they’ve shown My muscle perfection the love I deserve. They love servicing Me! They’re normal muscle worshippers, showing a great Man a good time...!

But you...!

You’re here because you can’t resist My feet. You’re so weird. All this pure-blooded, Alpha craziness and all you want to do is lie down on your back and have Me caress your mouth and tongue with the underside of My veiny, meaty feet and toes. You’re total proof that God seriously didn’t create all men equal. I don’t even think I should use the term ‘man’ around you. Should I, underling?”

“No Sir, absolutely Sir. I am but an excuse and aberration. I dream of Your perfect, masculine soles all night and fantasise about Them all day long, and I can’t and don’t want to think of anything else. All I crave is to be under Them. I don’t understand it. But I have to do it. I have to be this way.”

“Hang your head in shame, underling.”

“Yes, Sir. I will, Sir. You’re right to tell me to.”

“I’m always right, beta-boy.”

“Yes, Alpha Boss, absolutely.”

“Okay.” He says, clicking His dominant fingers and pointing at the ground. “Let’s get this started. Let’s get this over and done with then. More real men will be here later to do what any normal gay man should when presented with such amazing views. Oh my God, I just can’t believe how much you love My feet, underling, it’s just so pathetic and hard to comprehend. You’re already getting hard just thinking about it. I don’t even want to talk or see you.” He said, laughing and averting his gaze anywhere but at you. He beckoned you over, staring over at the wall. He was still laughing. You felt utterly humiliated and completely turned on.

You approach and lie down. You shuffle so that your beta face is directly underneath His pure Alpha excellence, staring up, physically demonstrating the undeniable hierarchy between the two of you.

“Ugh...I still can’t even bear to look at you pathetic weakling, down there.” He says, manoeuvring His right sole so it’s directly above your face. “I know what you yearn for and it sickens me.”

You quiver with arousal and excitement. He senses you tremble. He lowers His sole so that it covers the majority of your face.

“No licking until I instruct. Okay, footboy? You don’t decide a thing about what I let you do with My God feet. Understood, weakling slave?”

“Yes, Alpha Boss, absolutely. Thank you for this amazing honour.”

“Good. Yes it is a f**king honour, underling. If any of my other straight, Alpha buddies knew what I let a foot-obsessed beta slave like you do with My feet...I don’t even want to accept that such a ‘man’ like you could exist.” He replied, starting to flex his biceps and continuing to look away over to the mirror so he could admire Himself instead of looking down at you and reminding Himself of what you turned into before His feet...His feet, of all things, look at the rest of Him! Sure, He was up for letting you, which was more than any other man you had secretly admired and yearned to be at the feet of. You owed Him everything for being so kind. You were never worthy. He knew. You knew.

Your beta 🦴 is already standing to full salute. You bring your hand up and start rubbing the foot just above you. At the same time that you are breathing in, inhaling His scent and His superiority, His manliness is overwhelming compared with your beta boyhood. You both feel and know the asymmetry and both seem to understand that it had to be, much to his disgust and your inescapable obsession.

You’re invaded by your object of adoration. Your senses tell you everything you need to know. You stop thinking and you lose yourself. Sniff, rub, sniff and rub. All the time your body courses with pure pleasure and serenity.

You wait patiently to be told you can start the Soles’ beta-bath. He still isn’t deigning to acknowledge you, down there. He’s right to avoid looking. You’re pathetic. But you don’t care. You’d wait an eternity to start licking. Nothing else mattered. You were home...

Everything in this image inspires nothing but pure idolatry and adoration.

Holy, virile trinity in one. 👣 👃🏻

Time to worship, betas. 🌀 🛐

No water in the the tub yet because it’s you who gets the privilege of bathing His meaty, wrinkly, Alpha soles in sub saliva, and eventually, if you’re a really good and lucky foot worshipper, other beta juices. He won’t be satisfied until they’re glistening and you won’t stop thanking Him for the honour. Get licking footboy!

Wowww...shiny, wrinkly, perfect! And a hot, hot owner of such amazing soles. In love! 💗

« Avec plaisir mon Maître. Merci infiniment pour ce privilège. J’adore vénérer Vos pieds parfaits. »

« Ta gueule footslave. Me fais pu chier avec tes mots bêtes et vides. Lèche-les plutôt. Montre-moi ce qu’ils représentent dans ta vie de merde. »

« Oui Maître, je m’excuse. Je parlerai uniquement quand Vous le dites. Je connais ma place en dessous de Vous et Vos pattes sublimes. »

« Bon esclave. Plus un mot. Recouvre ces sabots avec la bave de bêta de laquelle ils sont dignes. Je veux qu’ils brillent dans leur excellence. Compris? »

Il rallume son jeu et tu places ta tête pour qu’elle soit deux ou trois millimètres devant Ses pattes parfaites. Tu t’étends la langue. Tu commences avec des touches longues et molles. Tu commences par un orteil, tu continues vers le bas. Tu veux pas qu’un seul morceau soit pas baigné par ton adoration. Tu te sens vraiment honoré et complètement dingue de tes objets d’idolâtrie. Tu voudrais que ce moment s’arrête jamais.

« Oui Maître. Bien sûr Maître. Je ne vaux rien. »

« Non mon esclave pitoyable, c’est vrai. »

commence par les pieds la salope! j'ai pas fini mon jeu!