Master Foot Domination - Tumblr Posts

The moment the sub’s foot fetish is truly and irreparably unlocked as the Master’s meaty toe introduces itself to its mouth. The subtle shift in power exchange and the acceptance of one beta’s role in life have begun.

This was my first attempt (hopefully of several) at adding a short story to an image that I found really hot! It took a few hours and several drafts and it probably is far from perfect but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

I know reading the story won’t be why many of you are here, so please feel free to skip to my shorter reposts if that’s the case.

...

You sit back and stare for a moment, content as you observe the meaty sole of your coveted foot Master, glistening from His rancid post-workout sweat and all the saliva you just covered it with during the start of your daily slow-worship session. The toes of the other foot are still warm, wet and shiny from the intense sucking you just gave them. The mighty big toes nearly suffocated you as you engulfed them both at the same time in your mouth, like you like to do every day. You feel aroused as always and at peace.

He deliberately ignores you, as He always does, uninterested in how excited His perfect, dominant soles make you feel. He keeps them in good condition. He makes sure they’re just as you love them. But He says nothing as your hands, lips and tongue work their way around every dominant inch.

...

He had always been aware of the way certain guys like you tried to hide their stares as He got changed in the gym after His morning workout session. He thought it was just His manly physique at first. He didn’t mind the attention or the ego boost it gave Him.

With you though, He gradually started to realise where your particular eyes were transfixed. You had started with subtle glances, but they soon developed into unstoppable, perspicuous gazes. He always used the same locker and you deliberately started timing the end of your gym session with His. You made sure you placed yourself in the other corner of the room. to ensure you could catch an eyeful without making it too obvious to others. He knew though. He definitely knew what you were doing.

Over time, it became a silent game. He let you see them more and for longer, growing aware of just how much you craved them on a daily basis. He didn’t seem to be disgusted or change His gym session time or routine to avoid you. He must have been able to see the erection growing in your shorts every day, same place, same time. You wondered if He had secretly started enjoying seeing the power His virile soles clearly had over your dick, as He paraded them around, rubbed and massaged them, so sore after His running, weights and swimming. You wanted them so badly!

...

Finally, one Friday, towards the end of the morning rush and after everyone else had left, you were performing your usual eye-spy process and mentally drooling. You were taking photographs in your brain and storing them for your own shower session at home straight afterwards. He hadn’t yet moved to take his shower, in the gym. This was normally the moment when you forced yourself to pack your bag up and go. Today though, you got lost in an overwhelming daydream, wishing this moment would last forever. The weekend was approaching, you had no plans and you were bored and horny. You hung on a moment longer than usual. He was clearly fully aware that you had been longingly ogling for over five minutes, but He hadn’t moved from His bench like He usually did to grab his towel and head for His shower.

Next, the unthinkable happened - He looked your way, directly, for the first time ever, and deliberately caught you staring, head on. He started to beckon you over. You were shocked into temporary paralysis. You had played this scene time and time again in your head as soon as you got home and jerked yourself off in your shower, revisiting the mental images you had grown accustomed to storing systematically for later.

You felt shy and unsure but He clicked His fingers and pointed to His feet and you obeyed, edging over to His side of the locker room.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. As you looked His way and started moving, He cut the awkward silence which was developing.

“You got a thing for my feet or what?” He asked, in an emotionless tone as you got closer.

You just nodded, unsure what reaction you were about to provoke.

You got to His bench, He was still seated, bare-chested, His rigid, domineering body dripping with sweat, after the day’s session. He gave you a very swift glance, then pointed down to His feet. He gave you a thumbs up sign. You couldn’t help but smile and say thank you. You didn’t know why you were thanking Him but it felt appropriate.

“Knock yourself out if you must,” He replied, taking His phone out from His bag, looking away and making it clear He wanted nothing to do with watching what you yearned to do. Had He known this whole time that deep down you craved to be owned by a big, meaty pair of Alpha male feet? You didn’t quite want to let yourself believe that he was giving you permission to do what you hoped he was talking about. This stuff only happened in porn films. Right?

You wanted so badly to show this foot God the love and adoration His feet deserved. You hesitated again. Could this really be happening?

“Get on with it,” he said, not even looking up from his iPhone screen.

No further encouragement necessary, you immediately took His meaty, wrinkled right sole in your hand and started massaging it, looking up for reassurance, a sign you had understood His few words and signals correctly. He still didn’t seem to want to look back, engrossed only by His mobile phone. The smell of His sweat, combined with the excitement of finally being able to touch made you feel dizzy.

He said nothing, He was still on His phone, the beeps sounded like He was playing a game while you just continued in your silent submission. Was he aware just how much He was letting you do everything you had been dreaming of since you first laid eyes on the fleshy, wrinkly, masterful pads of His?

You couldn’t think logically any more, as you raised His manly paw up to your beta mouth and started lathering the skin of His soles with spit from your lips and tongue.

You alternated between long, smooth licks, up and down the huge underside of His feet, together with quick darts as you arrived to the tops, in and out, between His enormous, formidable toes. You absorbed His sweat, coated His soles with your saliva and rubbed it in furiously with your fingers.

Your boner was throbbing in your shorts; in your worshipping frenzy you no longer thought straight. You reached inside your shorts, scooped out your rock-hard dick and started to jerk it as you carried on caressing, licking and adoring His perfect soles. You worked yourself into a fantasy and lost yourself in utter bliss while He nonchalantly kept on playing His game. You weren’t sure if he was deliberately pretending not to notice. He must have been thinking what a freak you were. He didn’t seem to care though. Maybe He secretly enjoyed asserting His Alpha presence as much as you relished your submissive surrender?

You came quickly, unable to hold on with the combination of pure joy and utter shock at what was happening. You both silently knew it was the start of something new.

He finally put His phone into his gym-bag pocket, zipped it up and looked down at you next to your puddle of beta seed on the floor. He seemed half disgusted, half smug at how submissive you looked.

Without saying a thing, He got up, opened His locker, threw His bag inside and pulled out a towel. Before you had time to process anything, He had made His way to the showers. As usual, you took your cue to exit. You had no idea if He would come back angry or aggressive, considering the weak, beta, foot-obsessed male you’d shown yourself to be. But He had initiated it. He had beckoned you over, right? Not wanting to risk anything, you scurried to get your things, quickly mopped up your puddle of cum with your towel and fled, dick still aching with post-orgasmic pleasure and mind in total shock as to whether you had dreamt the whole encounter.

...

The routine developed within the space of just a couple of weeks. He would ignore you, not even acknowledge your presence or spying as your eyes followed Him around the gym. At the end of your sessions, you would sit by the lockers and wait for the end of the morning rush. He would arrive soon after. Once the changing room had completely emptied out, He would glance over at you and point at His feet then click His fingers once. You would run over to them and get down on your knees. You would begin the routine of massages, caresses, licks and sucking as He would entertain Himself on His phone. He seemed happy to let you have your way with His powerful, irresistible paws. He even seemed unfazed on the day you plucked up the courage to cum on his soles, instead of the floor beside them. He didn’t even look up as you proceeded to lick up your deposit. He just continued to ignore the situation, as if nothing was happening at all, and then he would silently declare an end to the morning’s action and make His was to the shower cubicles.

...

It took another week for you to build up the courage to try the next step. Sure, He didn’t interact with you during your sessions at all, but you had started craving even more from this unspeaking yet Masterful foot god.

You went over, as always, after the other morning clients had disappeared. Then you got down on your knees as you had done every day that week. As you started to kiss His sweaty, perfect toes, you decided it was the right moment. Before you knew what you were doing, you stopped and He briefly glanced up from His phone.

“Why’d you stop?” He said, His tone not giving much away, but He clearly hadn’t expected the pause.

You decided it was now or never. You asked Him to come home with you, instead of staying at the gym. You explained that you wanted to do the same as always but in your living room and on your sofa.

To your surprise, He wasn’t even at all perplexed.

“So, foot boy finally grew some balls, did he?”

He didn’t actually say that, but the way he looked at you as you shyly asked the question told you that He wasn’t saying no.

He grabbed His bag from His locker, shoved His unused towel inside, then made sure His phone went into its usual pocket. He signalled for you to follow Him and He led you out into the reception area. He was still dirty from the gym, His sweaty, manly musk left a trail as you walked behind Him, driving you insane and making you giddy. You were walking out, together with your new foot god. Your whole body was buzzing with excitement. Your cock in full, unapologetic salute, visible for all to see.

You got to the car-park. He turned to you, a rare moment when His eyes met yours. He told you to show Him the way to your place, a command, not a request. He went and got into His car and followed you all the way home, staying one car behind for several blocks. He was staring into your rear-view mirror, piercing brown eyes peering over His steering wheel. It felt as though He was determined and that He knew this had been coming all along.

...

As you opened the front door of your flat and stepped back to let Him through, He walked straight past you, inviting himself in. He walked into your decently-sized living/dining room as you hesitantly lingered at the door. He signalled for you to enter. You shut the door and His eyes started scanning their new surroundings. He eyed up a wooden stool, adjacent to the dark oak dining room table. He made his way over and grabbed the knee-high object. He then moved over to your plush, anthracite-grey, three-seater sofa. He put the stool down and proceeded to sit on the middle cushion of the sofa. He placed the stool deliberately in front of Him so that He could raise His feet onto its seat. All this happened without words and you watched on, speechless and unable to believe what was happening.

...

He casually kicked off His gym trainers and took off both of his cotton gym socks. They peeled back, humid from the sweat that had yet to be cleaned from His feet after His gym session moments ago.

He assumed the Alpha position, placing His right foot out onto the stool. Then He clicked His fingers, as He usually did at the gym. You scurried over and sat on the carpet of the floor, face in line with His raised, domineering paw. He reached over to His gym bag, unzipped the side-pocket and pulled His phone out. As in the gym, He looked away, not even acknowledging your presence as you began to get your mouth around his huge, plump big toe. He carried on ignoring you while you went about your same foot-worshipping routine. You lost yourself in pure ecstasy to be worshipping the incredible feet of this dream-come-true Dom in your own living room. The one you had been fantasising about for so long. Here. Dominating you. Controlling your pleasure. Not even looking your way.

...

After you came all over His glistening wrinkles, you licked up the drops of your cum as he had come to expect you to do. He turned off His phone and put it back into His gym-bag pocket.

He looked at you pitifully for a second, the way you look at an injured, innocent animal in distress. He gave you a quick, almost indistinguishable wink then asked if He could shower off. Oddly, something seemed to have clicked inside of Him. He was the one to hesitate for once, then He reached back into the gym bag pocket to get His towel and His phone. He did not speak again.

You showed Him to your spare room, opened the door and told Him the ensuite bathroom was through the next door on the left. He nodded, not even waiting for any further invitation. You heard him enter and shut the creaky bathroom door, then the water started running and you felt at a loss of what to do with yourself. The reality of having your dream foot god in your own place, showering Himself off, after having let you give His feet all the love attention you craved, was a lot to take in. You waited in the living room for a moment, then lingered in the kitchen. You made two long, black coffees in the Nespresso machine, in case He wanted one as well before He left.

10 minutes later, He still hadn’t turned the tap off. He was taking His time. You weren’t sure whether to go in and check everything was okay for Him. Again you hovered in between the kitchen and living room. He was still in the spare bathroom, but the gym bag with His clean clothes was still on the sofa. You weren’t sure what to do. Was He going to walk back out here naked? You dared to dream. You finally heard the water go off but the spare bathroom door hadn’t creaked as he opened it. It always made an audible sound. What was He doing in there? You hesitated, hovered in the living room, the stench of sweat, manliness and cum still lingering in the air. You perched on the sofa arm and waited with His coffee.

...

All of a sudden, the spare bathroom door finally made its sound. He broke the silence once more, ordering you to come into the bedroom. He spoke in imperatives the majority of the time it seemed. Or was that just something He did with you?

Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see. You knocked, checking if you should wait for Him to be decent. He repeated, “Come! I told you to come in”.

You tentatively pushed the door open, His coffee in your hand. He was standing next to the bathroom door. He had His phone in His left hand. He was still completely naked but had fully dried Himself off. Your eyes darted over to His face, then moved down to His torso - hairy, defined and sturdy without being overly toned. He sure was a sight for sore eyes. A younger version of a Daddy bear type. Oozing confidence. Just your perfect type. Effortlessly commanding the attention of anyone lucky enough to be looking.

You couldn’t believe He had summoned you in just to stare at His stocky figure. Milliseconds passed, as your eyes scanned down further. Instantaneously, you dropped the coffee from your hand in utter shock as your gaze moved down to His waist area. His dirty gym sock from His pile of gym clothes on the bathroom floor was strategically placed around His fully erect penis! His sweaty, smelly gym sock was encompassing a gigantic bulge! What the fuck was going on?! His shaft was completely erect and encased in His used cotton. You could smell and taste His odour from across the room. He had showered, towelled off, got aroused, then erect and He had chosen to wrap His sweaty, used sock around His almighty bulge! Your brained searched frantically but fruitlessly for an explanation. What the fuck? Could this morning have become any more unexpected?

He looked over at the spilt coffee, your shocked face and then down at His chunky balls hanging proudly below His enrobed meat. He expressed the first ever grin you had seen from Him. Not at you, but towards the reflection of His manly physique in the mirror. He clicked again, pointing at His bulge. No instructions were needed. You thought you knew exactly what He wanted you to do.

You ignores the coffee cup and stain on the beige carpet. You jumped over the bed to get to the other side of the room as quickly as possible, no nerves or hesitation at all this time. You manoeuvred yourself swiftly and caught Him slightly off-guard. He and you were now face to face. He put His chunky right hand around the side your Head and coercively rotated your face round and down slightly so you were looking at His phone screen. He deliberately wanted you to see that on His screen was a video of a slightly older female. She was naked and lying on a bed. Well-endowed. Attractive. Curvy. But the camera was angled to be beneath her soles, looking up at her. It was definitely created to mimic a sub straight guy’s view, on the floor, looking up at her wide, wrinkly soles. You looked alarmed as He held your head in place, watching as she rubbed oil between her toes. It wasn’t your thing at all, women, but certainly not what you had expected to see either. His big, hairy hand rotated your head back so you were facing each other again.

“Look, I’m not gay,” He said, His sentence hanging in the air, “but I get it. I get who...what you are. This is what I like.” He pointed at his phone screen. “ Got it?”

He spoke matter-of-factly. You nodded, even though it had never occurred to you that straight guys out there had the same urges to ‘admire’ women’s feet as you did about men’s.

He continued to talk. The most words you two had both ever exchanged.

“Don’t ever think this...” he paused, pointing down to His encased cock, lifting one of His meaty paws and moving his index finger down to His soles. “Don’t ever think this will be anything more, than, well, this.” He motioned between the sole and His crotch.

Puzzled and unsure you had understood, you gulped and nodded. He liked feet too. He understood the power they could have over a sub. He must have been as surprised as you were now when He realised you had a gay version of His fetish. A lot more things were starting to make sense now! Why he so willingly allowed you to have your way with His feet every morning. Why He accepted yet didn’t even acknowledge you as you worshipped. He got foot fetishism. He had a version of it too. You immediately relaxed and let out an audible sigh. His expression seemed to soften slightly as He saw the relief grow across your face.

His powerful right hand now moved onto your right shoulder. He pushed you down until your face was directly in line with the sock surrounding His gigantic rod. Christ, it must have been a good 8.5 inches.

The man of few words suddenly spoke once more.

“You have 5 minutes and then I’m gonna cum into this smelly, sweaty gym sock. Don’t touch. Don’t push. Don’t do anything. Just stay where I’ve put you. 5 minutes. No contact. I mean it.”

You looked up and with that His attention went back to His phone screen. He pressed play, albeit without any volume. As always, He did not look in your direction at all again. You waited patiently as instructed, your mouth an inch away from His huge encased shaft, dying in agonising ecstasy at how it smelt and how it felt to have His manhood so close to your mouth. He didn’t push it in far. He rubbed it deliberately around, over your lips and then pushed in very slightly to let your tongue feel the very tip and taste His masculinity. It was far from a penetrating, man-on-man blow-job. More like a fully blown, deliberate tease. An act of a straight Dom letting his gay sub come as close as possible to His manhood. Maybe if there was no actual bodily contact in his mind, it didn’t count?

He jerked His rod faster, clearly very much enjoying the friction the sock was creating around it. He rubbed harder and faster as He watched His own object of foot adoration. You got the impression this was a video He knew well, and was fond of. Your mouth sort of hovered there, waiting for its reward, salivating yet not allowed to do more than be patient as He caressed your lips oh so lightly with the end of his encased mushroom. You still weren’t sure what He wanted you to do or what His intentions were. You subtly understood not to push it and make the rod go any further in than He permitted.

Shortly after this, He let out a huge groan. He was clearly really enjoying what He was watching. You hoped you were adding to His bliss by being at His beck and call, servile and on your knees, in a position He had commanded. Were you the gay beta of someone you saw as so Alpha, yet also with a clear leaning very akin to yours?

He suddenly came into His sock, letting out a gentle roar. You looked down at His cock and saw its cotton lining soaking up. You felt the wetness so close to your lips. Cum started dripping through the stinking material. You were so turned on again, but you did not dare touch your own rock-hard cock again. It was clearly His turn.

He had come hard and fast. His sock was completely drenched and a few drops continued to leak through, He grabbed the back of your neck with His right hand and pulled you in, so that the tip of His sock was letting cum droplets from His mushroom-head permeate the end of the stinking sock and fall onto your lips. He looked down momentarily. You were dying to open your mouth wider but He clearly had set a firm boundary. He seemed happy that you had obeyed His orders. Maybe a few little drops were permissible, anything more, too far?

He pulled His cock back, away from your yearning mouth and unwrapped the sock from His shaft. It was crusting up as His seed dried on it. Without warning, His hand reached down again and this time moved down to your mouth, fingers slipping inside. Suddenly, he yanked your jaw open. You couldn’t believe what was happening - again!

Before you had time to breathe, He shoved the cum-infested rag inside your mouth.

“Gonna leave that there for a moment. A little reminder of this morning’s adventures, reminding you who’s Boss.”

He said this as you stared up, incredulous, mouth full of His seed, His deposit, His stinking manliness.

“Maybe I could get used to having an adoring, obedient, little foot boy, attending to My needs. I will leave you to have a think about that.”

You opened your mouth to reply and He pressed His finger against your lips.

“Your mouth’s full enough as it is. That’s enough for today.”

You nodded.

Silence again.

The electricity of the statements after the incredibly unexpected turn of events that morning made your mind fog up and your body limp and joyous.

He grinned once more, again in the direction of His reflection in the mirror, not at you, but at Himself. He hadn’t told you to get up, or what to do with the sock, inhabiting your entire mouth, so you just froze, awaiting any other orders.

Then He made His way into the living room. He returned with His gym bag and got out His change of clothes. You were still kneeling down with His sock in your mouth. Did you need to wait for His permission to move? You didn’t know.

He started getting dressed. He put on a clean t-shirt, a fresh pair of jeans and then pulled out a pair of clean socks, before going to sit down on the bed. He hesitated for a moment. He looked your way and then clicked his fingers, pointing at His feet and expecting you to come over. Of course, you obediently did so, your cock suddenly twitching even though it was still sore from the earlier frantic explosion. You arrived at the end of the bed and He pushed both your shoulders back down so you were still firmly on your knees. His crusty sock was still lodged in your mouth, emitting His Alpha juices, intoxicating your throat with His post-gym foot odour and His seed. He hadn’t told you anything about taking it out yet. You actually yearned to keep it there as long as possible! He glanced down at you as you longingly stared at the toes which had already enslaved you. You felt unsure as to whether He was going to treat you to yet another round of foot worship fantasy.

This time, however, He raised His bare right foot onto His left knee and pointed at His clean sock, lying on the bed next to him. This time, He did grant you the courtesy of looking down as you reached out and grabbed it. He indicated again, this time for you to put it onto His right foot. You obeyed and slipped it over His meaty paw. You thought He betrayed a faint smile. He lowered His head down slightly and you wondered what the hell was coming next. All He did, in fact, was murmur one word, almost inaudibly, “Kiss”. Mouth still full with His cum-stained, sweaty cotton, you managed only to place the tips of your lips onto the grey cotton of the new sock, which was now encasing the cleaned up sole you had spilt your seed on, just 20 minutes ago. He allowed you a very short peck, before He lowered His right foot to the ground, swapped legs, telling you the same instruction for the second time, this time regarding His left foot. Again, you placed the clean sock over His chunky, clean paw. Again, He commanded and allowed you a short, symbolic peck.

As your lips touched the second sock, you thought about how His soles were clean, He had new socks on them, and you were left with a small relic, reminding you of the exchanges of power, pleasure and surrender that had just taken place. You felt at home, at ease and overwhelmed with arousal.

You had obeyed each time he told you to do something. He had gone to good efforts to entertain your inner desires. He had let you share in His too, albeit under His rules and in His way. Was He insinuating that He embraced what you two now had? Whatever it was. Some kind of straight-gay, Alpha-beta, sole-first relationship of unbalanced authority?

With a final, “Enough, foot-slave”, He nudged your head away and reached down to pull His trainers out from His bag and put them on. He stood up, grabbed His bag and got up to leave the spare bedroom.

He hesitated as He got to the door and turned to face you: “Oh and foot-slave. I expect that cum-infested, wreaking sock rag in your mouth back, tomorrow, clean and dry. Understood?”

You nodded and He looked pleased. He left the room and quickly exited the apartment.

It felt as though the last 25 minutes may have not ever really existed. You stayed motionless in the kneeling position for a moment, slowly absorbing what had happened. It felt amazing!

...

Another week passed, and your Alpha-beta relationship progressed. Words were minimal, verbal interaction non-existent. The procedure had become almost ceremonial. You waited for Him to finish His gym session. He entered the changing room just as everyone else was leaving. You hang around and when He was ready He would nod over to you, having not even acknowledged your presence there until that moment.

Back at your place, He would treat you to a 10-15 minute session of worshipping His Master feet. He played on His phone and looked away. You got on with your business, came and cleaned up. He then would go into the spare bedroom and take His shower. You would wait, no coffee needed after the initial incident! He would finish up and call when He was ready for you. You would enter the bedroom and He would be fully erect, fully encased, and ready to jerk Himself off while you hovered, kneeling, waiting for Him to unload His alpha seed all over His used gym sock.

He then would place that sock in your mouth and have you wait a moment. He only paid you attention from this point in to make sure you were really embracing His kind gift. When satisfied, He would grab His gym bag, have you put His clean socks on, the cum-encrusted one still firmly in between your cheeks. Then He would have you lightly kiss each new sock once before putting on His trainers and getting up to go. The only difference was that He would have His hand out, ready to collect His washed and dried sock from the previous day. You would fetch it from the bedside table drawer and He would put it back into His bag and leave. You had quickly adjusted to making sure it was there, ready and waiting, as good as new.

It became a wordless, yet deeply satisfying ritual for both involved. Mutual pleasure almost written in stone. You both depended on each other’s involvement, yet the asymmetric power involved, ensured you both got what you psychologically craved too.

...

After roughly another month of performing the same sequence, 5 times a week, every morning after the gym, you wondered where any of this might be going. He seemed very happy with His routine and you certainly had no complaints! It wasn’t until, possibly, another two weeks later, one Friday out of the blue when He startled you and spoke deeply and affirmatively after you handed Him His clean sock - normally the end of that day’s activity.

What was He about to say?

He told you He was moving in to the spare room that weekend. He didn’t ask. He didn’t even say please. He just declared it. Now it was you who silently nodded. You knew words weren’t His thing. He didn’t want to ask or negotiate. He just said He wanted what was rightly His. You never used the spare room. You had absolutely no reason to object. Satisfied, He left and returned the next day with a few suitcases of clothes.

It was the first time (of many) that you saw Him on the weekend. You wondered if you would be treated to the privilege of worshipping His godly feet seven days a week from now on. To your delight, once he finished unpacking, you entered the living room to find Him bare-chested, in His usual Alpha position, right foot extended onto His stool, waiting for you to do do your business. Delighted, you immediately acquiesced. It was as if He had somehow always been there, in your apartment, that very position. Like nothing really had changed, even though neither of you had ever actually discussed the arrangements formally, bar His initial setting of His limits.

...

He knew what His feet, His soles, His sweat and His cum did to you. He also clearly did not need to talk about it. You didn’t mind - in fact - it made you feel even more degraded yet lustful of your silent Master’s irresistible, manly feet; the power they had over you and your and His resulting pleasure had become all that mattered.

...

A few weeks into your new life, you have both now settled into cohabiting. You don’t mind making small gestures to put your foot Alpha at ease such as making extra portions of your meals for Him in the evening and leaving them outside his door. You pick up the dirty clothes He leaves in piles outside His door, add them to your basket (catching a whiff of His sweaty tees or dirty socks when possible) and you deliver them back freshly laundered. He comes and goes as He pleases. You turn a blind eye to the girls He brings home on Friday nights. You wonder if He just does vanilla stuff with them, or whether He meets women specifically for the same thing He jerks over when you’re waiting for him to unload His Alpha seed into His dirty sock. You don’t care that he never contributes to any of the bills or chores, or that He seldom even speaks to you, bar the odd morning “Thanks foot boy” as He casually grabs the extra coffee you make and leave aside for him first thing in the morning.

Apart from the daily ritual after the gym, He does what He pleases and you never protest. You’re not a couple. But you’re far from simple flatmates either!

He knows the reason you agreed to let Him move in and why He lives rent-free. He knows you will do anything to be able to keep worshipping His regal soles and toes. The silent rules seemed to have become naturally fixed: he just lets you get on with your end of the bargain, once a day, no questions asked. Then He ensures He gets His.

Humbled by how far you’ve come and your successful foot-sub efforts so far this morning, you get back to work, tracing every wrinkle of His mighty sole with your tongue, while you continue to jerk your aching, erect cock. As ever, He won’t look down until you have unloaded and fully cleaned up. Then He will get up and go into the bathroom for His shower and afterwards, you’ll be waiting patiently for Him to summon you for His dirty sock jerking routine. After He has come and you have His sweat, juices and seed germinating in your mouth, you will place His clean socks onto His feet and He will let you kiss each one, once. After that you both go about your days, cycle not to be repeated again until the same time tomorrow.

It may not be the sort of co-existence most would dream of, but you don’t care. Your place is at the feet of your Alpha. You’re complete, and you like to think that He too has found just what He had been looking for. Questioning the last few months was unnecessary and undesired by either of you, it would seem. All you care about, is ensuring the Foot god you so desired and who randomly walked into your life and then moved into your apartment had His perfect, chunky, wrinkled soles worshipped and adored every day.

Just as they should be.

...

Feel free to send me feedback regarding: length, use of the second person, content balance, kink details, vocabulary choice, narrative style and anything else which could help improve my erotic writing.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! Let me know if it hit your ‘spot’ 😉

Your obedience is required. Your arousal inevitable. You are such a sl*t for your dominant Alpha’s soles. You crave nothing more than to cover them in saliva while your pathetic beta-d*ck becomes rock hard in your small, apologetic underpants.

You will beg to do this all day, every day. Your Alpha will use it against you, making you into His total foot-b*tch. Ergo you’ll be His man-servant, His PA, His cleaner and His rent-payer.

You’ll do anything within your power to please your magisterial ruler. You will devote your entire existence to His happiness, and His alone. You had no idea how life got you to this point, but the time for overanalysing passed years ago.

So sit back, relax and let His paws take over your heart, your mind, your crotch and your wallet.

Such a good little foot-slave for your superior, straight Alpha. You knew were being completely taken advantage of, manipulated and overruled…and yet you did not care one bit!

Embrace it, footsub. Make your dreams come true!

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!

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