Gay Foot Slave - Tumblr Posts

One look at His Alpha soles and you’re His. He knows all about the power He has over you. He clicks His finger and points down at the floor in front of Him. You move over and get on your knees. You look up at Him in all his Alpha muscle superiority. You are at one with your inferior reality.

You stick out your tongue and make first contact with that magnificent foot. It tastes so good. It feels amazing. Ecstasy tingles through your body as you submit and surrender to all you ever wanted to be.

He sips his drink and ignores you on His phone. You’re nothing but an insignificant slave as far as He is concerned. He lets you be who you always wanted to be and in return you worship Him day and night.

Most people would struggle to understand but the asymmetrical relationship you and your Alpha have fulfils every desire within you to subjugate yourself to a perfect specimen of Manhood. You groan in pleasure, your d**k is rock hard and you are happier than you could ever imagine.

“Thank you Master for existing. Thank you for letting me worship your perfect feet and super manly body. I’m forever grateful.”

“You’re welcome boy.” He replies, not even looking up from whatever has got His attention.

He knew what you wanted. He ensured you got it. Your existence was everything it was ever meant to be. You were alive.

“Oh boy, why do you look so sad? Come on and talk to Dad’s soles now.”

“Don’t be ashamed or afraid. Everything you’ve ever been craving is here in one act of submission.”

“Surrender, worship, and tell Dad about your woes. He’ll listen while you lick, caress and kiss.”

“There. Now doesn’t that feel better? Keep going. Something in your shorts tells me that you have found your new favourite place to be.”

“No need to feel lost or ashamed any more, my good boy. That’s it. Give in to every perfect wrinkle, every plump toe, every inch of these engulfing, mature soles. Let yourself be free.”

“Good boyyy.”

Daddy’s perfect soles control your mesmerised eyes.

Daddy’s perfect feet control your intoxicated beta-brain.

Daddy’s perfect wrinkles leave you craving to trace every inch of them with your inferior, footslave tongue for hours on end.

Daddy’s perfect attitude controls your obsession, yearning and compulsion to beg for more.

Daddy’s perfect. Daddy’s feet are perfect. Worshipping them has become your perfect reason to exist.

Perfect Daddy’s got you; Perfect Daddy controls you; you’re His perfect, pathetic, adoring, little foot-sl*t. And He loves you for it.

…

Since surrendering at and to His perfect feet, everything that was wrong with your prior, unfulfilled life has vanished completely and forever.

You’re irreversibly and irrefutably His now. His perfection controls every atom of your being and every brainwave that passes between your messed-up, clouded, inferior synapses. You became His from the moment He saw you staring at His complete perfection one day.

…

So here you were again. You were at His perfect feet, licking, caressing, rubbing and worshipping them, as you always did, just as it was always meant to be.

He was barely paying you any attention, as always, just letting you get on with it. You just did and always do what comes naturally to you. It seemed that nature had always intended for you to be this inferior excuse for a male. Obsessed with being underneath superiority. Gagging to give yourself to a handsome, superior and perfect Alpha Daddy’s feet.

You didn’t care. You could and did do this all day every day. Worshipping, losing yourself, and waiting patiently.

Eventually, He looked up from His phone, glanced down at you and smiled, reminding you what a GOOD BOY you were for being totally subjugated by His perfect soles, feet and toes.

You smiled back, you thanked Him, you groaned in pleasure and you touched the rock-hard mountain in your shorts.

“Yes, my good footslave, it’s time for you to unload your daily beta-juice all over them. Go ahead. Just remember that every drop spilt has to be fully licked and sucked up afterwards. Go on my good footboy. You deserve it, my devoted foot-sub.”

…

And with that He placed his perfect soles together, His manly arches parallel to each other, and left just the right size gap for your ‘man’hood to find its way in.

You unzipped, you inserted, you assumed the perfect position and started penetrating. With an in and out, back and forth motion which nobody ever needed to teach you, you just knew exactly how to do it from the very first time it came to it. You lived for being in between and underneath an Alpha Daddy male’s paws. Your whole life had meaning only when you were being completely controlled by superior soles.

You savoured the moment. You went into a trance with Daddy’s perfect feet surrounding your engulfed beta- 🍆. Engulfed by His perfect paws. Surrounded by His perfection.

You moaned, you felt waves of intense pleasure, ecstasy and fulfilment coursing through your entire beta body. You looked up at Daddy. Daddy looked down lovingly but also patronisingly at you. He clenched His soles around your pole and allowed you to keep f**king them intensely. He made sure His presence and dominance completely took over everything that made you, you.

You held on as long as you could but it didn’t take much for His utter perfection to leave you completely helpless to resist. Then He started with His perfect verbal mantra and it was very hard to do anything but succumb:

“Who’s Daddy’s good, little, perfect foot-slave?”

“I am, Daddy.”

“Who’s Daddy’s best, devoted, sole-obsessed beta?”

“I am, Daddy.”

“Who would do absolutely anything for Daddy’s *perfect* feet, soles, toes, arches and wrinkles?”

“Me, Daddy. Always. Me.”

“Good boy. My good, adoring foot-boy. So pathetic, so enslaved, so utterly devoted to MY perfect Daddy feet. So obey me now. And let it alllll out. Coat MY. Perfect. Arches. Drown Daddy’s manly, superior soles in your submissive, beta semen, footbeta. Do it now boy!”

💦 💦 💦 👣

“Good boy. Such a gooooood boy for Daddy’s feet. There, doesn’t that feel like the most perfect feeling ever? My perfect footslave? Everything you ever wanted or needed. And Daddy provides it for his Best Boy.”

“Yes Daddy. Thank you, Daddy. I love everything about your perfect feet, Daddy.”

“Very good, my good boy. You’ve made Daddy very proud of you once again. Now clean up this mess at once.”

And with that Daddy put his airbuds back in, went back to ignoring you and left you overcome by how fulfilled you felt and overwhelmed by how much you loved everything He did to you and made you feel without even really trying.

You licked up your mess with pleasure and delight, giving His perfect soles and toes yet more of the long beta licks and bathing in sub saliva that they always deserved.

You sat back afterwards, stared at His glistening sole wrinkles and admired your work.

You felt so good, so grateful to be alive and so lucky to be perfectly ‘home’.

If you’ve never experienced the thrill of being envious of a coffee table, then this image of a handsome, ignoring, Alpha stud and His perfect, masculine, meaty, wrinkled soles, is a great place to start.

Aren’t they just crying out for an inferior footbeta to be underneath them, cleaning them, caressing them, feeling helplessly trapped by their superiority?

One glance and you find yourself physically yearning to feel the power that He wields over you via His incredible feet, without even trying. It’s transcendental.

You’re suddenly just craving to abandon all your other hopes and dreams. You’d do anything to be able to serve Him and spend your days and nights attending to His soles’ power, constantly trying but never truly succeeding to feel worthy of their and ergo His almighty existence.

It’s all you want now. Just to be able to replace His coffee table.

You’re sick. And you love it.

“That’s it, footboy. Keeping staring at Daddy’s soles and looking up at Daddy’s mesmerising eyes. Feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into Daddy’s irresistible control.

“As Daddy’s toes wiggle, up and down, side to side, let your gaze look where it wants to look, without even trying to think about it.

“Daddy’s soles are the best. Daddy’s eyes make you feel good. No need to worry any more. Daddy’s got you, footboy. Just relax, breathe and come take your place underneath Daddy’s perfect soles. There, doesn’t that feel better, my good footslave?”

“Yes, Daddy, it feels amazing and so magical. Just seeing Your soles, listening to Your voice, staring into Your eyes, and feeling completely helpless to do anything but obey.”

“Good footboy. That’s exactly what Daddy wants to hear and see. That’s it. Get underneath Daddy’s paws. Inhale and exhale through them. You know this is what you were born to do.

“Oh and I can tell another part of you is equally as excited about everything that’s going on between us. Doesn’t it just feel soooo goooood to give in and let Daddy’s feet take their rightful place, above you, footboy?”

“Sooo goood, Daddy. You and Your feet are the best thing, ever.”

“Absolutely, my best footboy. Just keep submitting, and keep letting all parts of your body embrace their full surrender. Do as I say, and everything will be fine from now on. No more worries, just Daddy, Daddy’s feet and Daddy’s coaxing eyes. All You want to do is listen, obey and feel the ecstasy that comes with that. Don’t you, my good footsub? Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy. Thank You so much for offering me such an overwhelmingly sweet experience. I feel so much better, just to give in and let You and Your feet take over. I don’t know what to say.”

“Then stop talking. There’s nothing left to say. Just breathe, lick, caress, adore and feel the effect of Daddy’s perfect power. Good boy. No more talking now. No more thinking now. Listen, worship, and do as I say. Good boy. That’s it my best footboy. Whoa! Steady! We don’t want a beta-load explosion just quite yet, do we? Haha. Slowww down, relax, and just do what Daddy wants and tells you. You’re His now. You belong to His perfect feet. And you loooove it. Don’t you, my best footsub?

“Oh yes, I just know you do. No more worrying. No more overanalysing. Just Daddy, Daddy’s perfect eyes, Daddy’s perfect words, and Daddy’s perfect paws. What more could a helpless footbeta ask for? Haha. Oh yes, my best footboy. You just know exactly what to do in this amazingly sweet surrender. Keep going. Relax. You’re doing so well.”

Every time Master raises His smooth, meaty, masculine, and irresistible soles, you have no choice but to confess: You’re a successful, sorted, sane guy, but Master and His soles have total erotic control over everything you think, say and do.

From the moment you laid eyes on Him in the gym showers, you realised that He had the best confidence, power and mental and physical strength that you had ever witnessed, not to mention the sexiest feet you had ever had the fortune to observe.

The shift in the universe at that moment was undetectable to others, but undeniable within every atom of your own inner being and the subsequent update in dynamic that was established between you both was instantaneous.

He knew exactly what had happened. He saw your longing gaze and He immediately sensed that he was in the presence of the biggest, secret footbeta imaginable.

He told you to get dressed. He instructed you to take Him back to your house. He wasted no time in stripping down to only His underwear. You were stunned into silence, shocked into submission and powerless to do anything other than what He commanded.

You also undressed, the pole in your own boxer shorts, now on show, impossible to hide. He smiled. He knew He had achieved total success in owning you within milliseconds. You got down on the floor and stared up at your new FootMaster. You felt happy, you felt good, you felt completely powerless to resist. All you wanted from now on was to serve and earn the best male feet you had ever witnessed.

The past ended: The years of endless scrolling, dreaming, yearning, fantasising but always feeling unfulfilled.

The future began: A future of dedicating yourself fully to your new perfect Master and His perfect soles.

He moved in the next day and assumed the position of total Alpha male.

You looked after Him, you let Him take the reins. You prepared His meals, you did His chores, you ensured He was permanently totally at ease, and you forgot what it was like not to be living in the presence of an indestructible, Alpha FootMaster.

“Was this what other people called love?”

In return He let you worship Him every morning and every evening. You started sleeping at the foot of your bed, Him at the top, His soles firmly planted all over your face, all night long. You inhaled His scent every moment possible, both during your sleep and during your free waking hours. You licked His feet, you sucked His toes, and you massaged His perfect paws whenever you got the chance. He relaxed, He did whatever He wanted and you could do nothing but remain in a permanent state of arousal, bliss and subservience. The power He had over you felt so natural, so easy and so right.

To everyone else on the outside, it just seemed as though you had a new, handsome housemate. They guessed you two had just become new, very good friends, who spent all their free time together.

They noticed how much happier you seemed. They commended your new, better physique because you two had started going to the gym a lot more frequently. In the office, you worked even harder too, yearning to be the best version of yourself in order to provide everything necessary for your new foot Adonis.

Little did others know, what your life had actually become. Nobody else needed to know, in fact that what had come about, was everything you had silently ever dreamt of.

“Yeah man, that’s fine, you can get on the floor and have your way with my big, masculine feet and soles. Don’t worry, I understand that they’re perfect and that you’re helpless to resist them. My girlfriend’s pretty into them too! They could use a clean and a rub, anyway. Just bear in mind that you’ve got 30 minutes to do what you need to do before this episode finishes. And factor into that, that whatever mess you make, you’ll have to clear up too. Understood?

“Aren’t you one lucky footsub? Oh yeah!”

“Handsome, masculine, silver-fox Daddy requires new, obedient, adoring footpuppy. All types of footsub considered. Don’t be shy. Daddy’s firm, stringent and demanding but He doesn’t bite. What He does require is constant footworship, total footlove and unbridled foot dedication. So…What are you waiting for? Get on your knees and apply within.”

Yes, Master knows they’re perfect.

Yes, Master knows exactly what effect they’re going to exert immediately over your foot-obsessed, beta-brain.

Yes, Master does expect full and total worship of every single inch.

You can try to deny it, but all you truly desire is to kneel down before Him and beg to be allowed to make those feet sparkle, coated in your inferior sub-saliva.

Will you start by tracing each and every wrinkle with your beta-tongue?

Will you gradually move up to His meaty toes, sucking each one, one-by-one, ending up at the bulbous, juicy big toes?

Will you eventually be granted permission to insert your aching, rock-hard 🍆 in between His superior, high arches, thrusting away, back and forth, up and down, until you cannot take the ecstasy any more and you explode, cementing your status as Master’s number 1 foot-obsessed idolator?

Time to find out…

Stop.

Kneel.

Stare.

Drool.

Beg.

Wait.

Lick.

Suck.

Kiss.

Caress.

Rub.

Clean.

Repeat.

Wait.

Repeat.

Wait.

Look up at your perfect Master.

Thank Him for giving you the privilege of worshipping at His meaty soles, His mighty toes, His sexy feet.

Look down again.

Wait.

Obey.

Hope He gives you permission.

Wait.

Worship.

Wait.

…

“It’s time, footboy!”

Fireworks go off in your brain.

You smile, you look up, you thank Master.

“Touch yourself,” says Master - and you do.

“Keep worshipping. And jerk,” says Master - and you do.

“Keep caressing. And jerk.” You do.

“Keep licking. And jerk.” You do.

“Keep sucking. And jerk.” And you do.

Masters commands keep coming. You keep obeying. Your 🍆 pulsates every time He speaks, you listen, and you do exactly what Master tells you.

“Let Master’s soles, toes, and tops invade your mind, take over your senses, and become your destiny.

“Mesmerised.

“Enchanted.

“Overwhelmingly aroused.”

…

“Desperate to please Master.

“Desperate to obey.

“Feeling your own thoughts fading away.

“Allowing Master’s power to control everything you think, say, and do.

“Keep worshipping.

“Keep jerking.

“Lose your mind.”

…

“Embrace your inner voice, the one that has always told you that you’re nothing but a little beta footslave.

“Master opened the door, you went inside.

“Thank Master for being so powerful, so generous to let you be at His feet, and so very hot.”

…

Wait some more. Lick some more soles. Suck some more toes. Caress some more arches.

…

Here come the magic words.

“Good footslave. You continue to make your Alpha FootMaster very happy and proud, indeed.

“Go ahead now.

“Shoot your beta seed all over the object of your idolatry.

“Show them, and Me, who you truly are.

“That’s it. Coat them in your white, creamy 💦

“Wow you just can’t stop, can you, footboy?

“Master’s delighted to see just how much His perfect Feet, Soles, Toes, Wrinkles, and Arches get you off!

“You’re a very good boy, slave, a very good footboy for Master. Say it back.”

You repeat back His words as you finished up with your unloading.

You look up at Him. You smile. He smiles back. Then He clicks His fingers and points.

No further communication needed.

You get to cleaning up your beta mess.

Long, languishing licks, all over every inch of His perfect Feet, Soles, Toes, Wrinkles, and Arches.

“I want them sparkling, My good footboy. That’s it. Very good. Good boy.”

With that, Master leans down and pats you on the head. He continues to tell you what a good boy you are, and you feel incredible. There’s nothing quite like being owned by such a mighty, handsome, perfect Alpha. Everything just feels right in the world, you down here, Him up there.

“The hierarchy is real. Say it back.”

“The hierarchy is real, Master. Thank you for everything. You are incredible.”

“You’re welcome, my best footbeta. Master is very proud of you.”

With that sincere praise, His deep, manly voice, and His gentle taps and rubs of your head and hair, you started to get hard again. You blushed.

“Ah,” says Master, “My best footboy really is just insatiable, isn’t he?”

Master chuckles. You know what’s next. You squirm.

“Relax, my good footbeta. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You know it’s for your own good. You’ve had your reward. Now it’s back to your cage. You know that you need it. You know it keeps you focused, makes you into an even better footslave, and helps you concentrate on serving Me, your best Foot Alpha…”

“Yes Master, of course Master, You are right, You’re always right.”

“Good footboy.”

And with that, Master produces your cage from the table next to Him, and He beckons you to stand up and come closer to Him.

“There we go. My best footboy. Going back into chastity. Where it knows it belongs. Master decides when it gets to have fun times, doesn’t He?”

“Yes Master, absolutely Master, Master says and it obeys.”

“Yes it really does. Good slave. Now back to its work and chores. Master’s got stuff to do, and so has it.”

“Yes Master. Of course, Master.”

“Good boy.”

Master kisses you on the forehead, pats you on the cheeks, and sends you on your way. You feel a jolt of arousal pulse through you. Your cage restrains your aching 🦴. There’s nothing to it. You have to earn your way to your next worship session and eventual beta unload. You have to obey and please Master and wait patiently for your next reward. It’s how life is now.

Further pulses of joy course through you as your carnal desires battle internally with the acceptance of your controlled, beta life. The inner conflict further subjugates you, further humiliates you, and then weirdly, also arouses you further. This state of frenzy and subduing at the same time lead to balance which lead to calm, peace, gentle waves of bliss, and the desire only to focus, concentrate, work, please Master, and wait for more and more bliss.

What a lucky footslave you truly are, boy!

***

Just to say apologies for the lack of posting atm. I have started a new job and it’s full on! I’ll try to do 1-2 a month but it may be less regular than usual while everything settles down. Thanks for sticking around, liking, messaging, and commenting guys. Always means a lot!

***

Master contemplates the inferior version of a ‘man’ kneeling beneath His perfect, meaty, masculine soles.

You wait patiently to be granted permission to begin.

You, being who you truly were, are and always will be: a servant, a beta, and a worshipper of the feet of all Men so superior to you.

———

You could never even imagine what it must feel like to have been born in a real Man’s body, with real Men’s attitudes, real Men’s confidence, and real Men’s effortless pizazz.

In normal life: at work, in the street, out shopping, at the gym - anywhere outside really - you learnt to put on this massive front. Years of experiencing disdain from everyone around you made you harden up. It was the only option to avoid ridicule, suffering, and hate.

The constant and unnatural hardening up had scrambled your brain cells, but weirdly also naturally started to lead to physical hardening alongside the psychological and emotional. It was as though your mind was naturally compensating for what your body had to do, be, say, think, and pretend, every day.

To fit in, you wore these masks, but inside you felt and knew you were trying so much to be someone you just weren’t. Every time you admitted it to yourself in private, you were rewarded with ecstasy beyond your wildest dreams. Stimuli representing your true self took over. Outside you exacerbated inside you, which consequently became fetishised, reinforced, and then indelibly unlocked within you forever more.

Everything every atom of your being felt inside was forcibly silenced as soon as you stepped out of the door and until you returned again. The dilemma was troubling, the troubling intensified, and then went full circle to private unspeakable bliss.

———

So here, now, everything was finally different:

No, nothing about you both was the same.

No, nothing about you both was equal.

Yet yes, here you were; you getting yours, Him getting His.

Dialogue was sparse. Talk was cheap. Actions spoke for themselves. As did meanings.

The scene playing out in Master’s garden meant that Nature was being respected, time was being dedicated to what It intended, and space was being used as It knew it should be.

Everything aligned, you were hard AF, and Master was just so fulfilled to be fulfilling His role as an overseer of subordinates just like you.

Thus the scene was set and the break from modern-day reality was such a relief for you both. The pleasure this gave both of you was inexplicable and undeniable. It felt so right, so good, and so special, just to give in.

The ‘real you’ inside of you, that you had learnt and worked hard to hide all these years could just be set free for a moment or two. Being yourselves was unimaginably easy. Feigning otherwise was so draining.

———

Now show that Man your true self. Bury your face into the bottom of His feet. Show him how grateful you are to be there, at His soles, underneath Him and therefore also His clan, His leadership, His protection.

Lose yourself in this perfect moment. Coat His paws in your beta saliva. Make His feet feel so damn good with your licks, caresses, and rubs.

Surrender to that yearning inside. Be a ‘good boy’. Let yourself become harder than hard can be. Nature wanted this all along. And It will reward you both with the best feelings any Man or man could ever experience.

You both just know, without even having to think about it, that it’s exactly what you are supposed to be doing, at exactly the right time, in exactly the right place.

👑 👣 > 👁️ 🌀 > ✋🏼 👅 > 🪨 🍆 > 🤯🥵🫠 > 💦 💦 💦 > ☮️ in 🛐

Happy Alpha Men = happy beta boys.

Just as Nature intended. 😉

Daddy contemplating the grovelling wreck that His powerful, strong soles have turned you into.

Hmmm 🤔

What do you have to say for yourself, footsub?

In the blink of an eye, you’re captivated.

In the beat of a heart, you’re hooked.

Something changed within you, the night that He moved in.

An irreversible loss of self-restraint.

An undeniable urge to do anything He said.

Whenever evening fell, and the working day was done, your adjusted self came alive.

He ate the dinner you prepared. He chose what you both watched as you ate it. He checked His socials as you looked on in desire. He felt the fatigue after the day working in His high and powerful job; your energy, on the other hand, was just starting to pique. His eyes started to close, and yours lit up.

You knew it would soon be time to let loose.

He clicked and pointed at the floor by His feet. You moved into position. He started drifting off. You never knew if He deliberately chose this moment to switch off completely. Whatever it was, He never chose to be alert while what happened next, happened next.

He looked as though He’d dropped into slumber. You knew this was your best moment. His meaty, masculine soles took over. You placed your face directly in front of them. You inhaled His superior scent. You indulged yourself in His presence. You held out your arms and started lightly caressing the underneath of His paws. He did not stir.

You massaged gently and a feeling within you stirred. Pleasure. Pure pleasure. To be at His feet, giving them the attention they deserved. You wasted no time in starting to lick. And yet still, He remained asleep.

Long, lascivious licks, coating both His soles in glistening saliva. You felt alive. The smell, the taste, the warmth. Everything seemed to slot into place.

You lost yourself with your mouth. Thinking stopped. Outside world problems abated. All that mattered in that moment was pleasing the resting Man in front of you. Underneath His feet, you felt at home, at peace, at one. And clearly so did your body. 🍆

Taking great care not to wake Him, your worship continued, unbridled and unashamedly. The link between mouth, mind, and body took over. The only important thing right now was His feet. 👣

Steadily, as time went on, the 🦴 in your pants started aching. The throbbing sensation was all-consuming. The more you worshipped, the better you felt. The better you felt, the more you lost yourself.

This twisted cycle boxed you in. Master all the while seemingly (😉) unaware. You kept going, and going, and going.

Nothing else was necessary. Nothing else made you care. But His feet. His mighty, masculine soles. And doing to them what they deserved, and in turn what He did too.

Minutes passed. How long it had been was not known or even necessary to know. All that remained were His feet, you, and your 🍆.

Oh.

Here it came now. Your mouth remained firmly planted on the underside of His feet, but your hands passed down to your crotch area. Suddenly your jerking became more and more unstoppable. Still frightened to wake up the Male object of your idolatry, you made sure you stayed quiet. But the back and forth motion, coupled with contact with such greatness, led only to sensations otherwise unknown.

Every inch of His feet had been serviced. Every toe had been sucked. Every wrinkle had been licked in between. Every part of His arch had been touched by your tongue.

Satisfied? Hell yeah!

It was time.

👣 ✋🏼 👅 🍆

👣 🚼 🛐 🦴

🤲🏼👅🤲🏼

💦 💦 💦

🌀 🌀 🌀

⛓️

🛐