Date: Tue, 08 Aug 2006 16:30:59 -0400 (EDT) From: herb_cat <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: Foot Slave Copyright 2006 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission. Please note: this story depicts oral, anal, and group sex between males as well as a foot fetish. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further. The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you. ----- The Foot Slave As I drove the twenty miles from home to the motel, I kept asking myself, "Am I stupid or what?" Did I know what I was getting into? No! What did I really know about this 'Bigfoot?' Nothing! The evening before I had logged into one of my favorite chat rooms. I decided on the userid 'footslave_dc.' I wanted others to know exactly what I was looking for. I love feet. Bare feet. Socked feet. Boots. They all get me hot. I can just be looking at a guy's bare feet on the beach and pop a boner. It can be very embarrassing. At my gym, I love finding forgotten socks in the locker room. I press them to my nose and inhale the rich foot aromas, then if I think no one is around, I jerk off right into the sock. What can I say, I'm a foot junkie! I purposely used all lowercase for my userid to underscore my subservient attitude. And I threw in the dc to indicate my location. Well, I wasn't online five minutes before 'Bigfoot' sends me a private message. Seems he is a size 12. I was getting excited at my keyboard. And he was in College Park. Fuck, I was hot. I took on a totally submissive role with him, using lowercase i for my own pronoun, and always addressing him as Sir, uppercase S. He responded in kind, giving me orders online. He insisted I send him a pic of myself and I did. He demanded that I strip off all my clothes, and I did as if he were right in my room. He made me play with myself as I wrote long, flowery praises to his feet. He described his feet in great detail to me. How his second toe is longer than his big toe. How he keeps his nails neatly trimmed. Then he said he'd like to take my little cock between his two bare feet, and that did it - I splooged right on my keyboard. Then he tells me he has three buddies, all with larger feet than his. He said that all four of them enjoy having their feet attended by true foot-worshippers, and would I be able to meet them the following evening for a session that he promised would be worth my time. I couldn't believe it. It was a dream come true. He gave me the address of the motel and ordered me to arrive exactly at 9:30. He also spelled out in detail what was expected of me. As soon as I got home from work the next day, I began fantasizing about the evening. I blew three loads just thinking about those eight feet and how I intended to lick them and kiss them and smell them and taste them and feel them and massage them. I took a long shower and made sure my own body had no odors that would mask the delicious smells of those feet. I even douched my asshole. Hell, I thought, maybe I'd get lucky and one of those guys will take his big foot and fuck me with it. When I left my apartment, it was only a quarter past eight, way too early for a mere forty minute drive, but I didn't want to chance getting lost and arriving late. Anyway, I was too excited to sit home any longer. But as I drove, I began to realize what a tremendous chance I was taking. Bigfoot hadn't sent me his picture. I had no idea who this was. I should have asked to meet him in a public place first. But I wasn't the one giving orders. I was taking them. Maybe this was a setup. Maybe Bigfoot and his pals were going to rob me. Ha! I had less than twenty bucks in my wallet. Maybe they'd steal my car. More likely, maybe this was just a wild goose chase. Maybe Bigfoot got off on imagining cumbuckets like me driving around on his command, going to a motel, and never finding anyone. But, Fuck, I thought, I've gone this far, I may as well see it through to the end. If Bigfoot was leveling with me, then it was certainly going to be worth it. I found the motel well before nine. I wasn't late, thank God. But I couldn't be early either. My orders were to knock on the room door at 9:30 exactly. Hell, I couldn't be early even if I wanted to. I had no clue what room they were in. As Bigfoot had ordered, I brought my pager with me. He had my number. Just before 9:30, they were going to buzz my pager and give me the room number. So I had a half hour to kill. I spotted a Dunkin Donuts across the street from the motel and pulled in there. I ordered a large cup of hightest and sat down to sip it slowly. I didn't want to have any doughnuts. All that sweet glaze and filling would interfere with the sweet flavor of feet my tastebuds were about to experience. I kept looking at the clock on the wall, and then at my watch. One seemed to move slower than the other. I also kept playing with my crotch. I was really getting hot. I finished my coffee, and went into the tee room. I resisted the temptation to jerk off, cause I wanted to be ready for my evening. Instead I pissed and then rinsed the coffee aroma out of my mouth. I checked myself in the mirror, and then stepped out. The clock on the wall said 9:22. I drove across the street and waited in the motel lot, for the longest five minutes of my life. At 9:27, my pager beeped and the message read 302. I pulled the car around to unit 302, got out and knocked on the door. ---------- "It's him," announced the tall burly man who opened the door. I assumed this was "Bigfoot," but he didn't introduce himself himself. Bigfoot had gotten my picture and would be able to identify me for the sake of his buddies. Bigfoot had taken all the precautions. I had taken none. He had my pager number and I'm sure, had I not arrived as ordered he would have made my life a living hell. Bigfoot turned his back to me and went back to the poker game in progress. I closed the door behind me and silently began slipping off all my clothes as I had been instructed the previous night. I had memorized all of Bigfoot's orders and was determined to fulfill them to the letter. I arranged my clothes in a neat pile on the floor beside the door, and then approached the table. No one spoke to or looked at me, and I was not to acknowledge them. I was merely an object, a piece of furniture. Like the bed in the room, I was there for their comfort. Like the TV, I was there for their amusement. Like the deck of cards they dealt, I was a toy for them to play with. And like the toilet in the bathroom, I was a receptacle for their manjuices. At this point, mine was the only naked body in the room. I knelt on the floor beside Bigfoot. As I said, he was tall and burly. He wore a denim vest, with no shirt, open to expose a chest rug of thick dark fur. He had on blue jeans, loafers and no socks. I bent over and held his shoes as he slipped his feet out. I took a sniff of them, then placed them away from the table, out of the way, and began caressing his beautiful big feet. He did keep his nails neatly trimmed. And his second toe did extend out farther than the others. Two things he had not mentioned in the chat room: his feet were covered in hair, and his big toe seemed especially dexterous, moving independent of the others. I bent down and kissed them. They were deliciously sweaty. Once I felt his finger tracing my bare crack, seemingly absent-mindedly. I began to relax now, -- my fears for the evening were evidently unfounded. I licked his toes and began to listen to their conversation. They spoke about the game, what shitty hands they had, how one or the other was going to lose his shirt. They spoke about their boring jobs, the upcoming Senators game, and the fuckin congress. What I was most listening for were clues to their names. "Toss me another beer, Ted." And the man closest to the minifridge reached over and pulled out a cold one. I wanted to get all four men pegged. When Harold's feet, that is Bigfoot, were thoroughly soaked in my saliva, I moved on to Jimmy. Jimmy was a dark black man in a suit - maybe a professional. He spoke very deliberately, like a professor or something. His tie was loosened, but he still had his jacket on. I untied his black wingtips and slipped them off and then took his black hose off. He had immense feet, the soles wonderfully lighter than the rest of his skin. They too were sweaty with that tasty aroma only an African knows how to emit. I went to work, suckling each black toe like it were a mini black dick. I glanced up to see his free black hand massaging his crotch. I was in no rush. I gave each man's feet sufficient attention before moving on. In due time, I left Jimmy for Gary. This was the skinniest of the four. I never heard his name, but he had a namepatch on his work shirt, which he had already doffed and thrown over the back of his chair. He sat in a tank top and denim cutoffs, a marked contrast to the formal Jimmy by his side. He wore sneakers and white athletic socks. I untied his sneakers, loosened the laces, and he slid his feet out. But when I went to take off his socks, he pulled his feet away. OK, so he wants to keep them on, I thought. I can live with that. I rubbed my hands along his slender feet as I kissed the socks, licked the socks, sucked the socks. The wetter the socks got, the more pronounced were the features of his feet; just like wet underwear reveals a man's basket. Lastly, I got to Ted, the beer dispenser. Ted was the cowboy. He wore a red plaid shirt, tight crotch hugging jeans with a big belt buckle. And boots. Fabulous, pointy hand carved, high heel boots. When he saw me coming, he turned in his seat and stuck one leg straight out. I got up off the floor, straddled his leg with my ass pointed toward him and tugged off his boot. No sock. He slapped my ass like I was his pony. Then the same procedure on the other foot. After carefully parking this pair beside the bed, I got back on the floor and licked the cowboy sweat off Ted's huge feet, being careful to lick thoroughly in between all the toes. I was really hot by this time. Fully erect. I had serviced each man individually, and there was an atmosphere pervading the room that some more intense action was soon to follow. For one thing, they seemed to winding up their poker game. Ted and Jimmy spoke of having lost their shirts even though they were the two men still wearing shirts. I decided I might soon need a cum rag so I went into the bathroom to grab a towel. I looked at my hardon in the mirror and gave myself an appreciative grin. ---------- When I came back out, sure enough the cards, and chips had disappeared. So had Jimmy's jacket and tie, Gary's undershirt, and Harold's jeans. Gary was folding up the card table. Ted was unbuckling his belt. Soon enough, he dropped trou. No undies. Except for his shirt, he was now as naked as I. But the strangest thing - he sat his lovely ass down on the bed and put one of his big pointy cowboy boots back on. Then all four pulled up their chairs and sat in a square. I laid the towel on the floor in the middle of this foursome and set my ass down on it. I was laying face up, flat on the floor except for my knees which I kept bent. Soon enough Jimmy's big black foot was on my face. I reached up and grabbed his trouser leg as I licked his sole and satisfied my soul. I felt Gary's socked foot petting my dick. That was all I needed to begin releasing prejizz. As I oozed, he kept wiping my dickhead dry on his sock. Next I felt a naked foot was poking at my asshole. I spread my legs wider. I peeked out from under Jimmy's foot and saw Ted above my shoulder, wanking away. You know the old adage, "Big feet, Big ... " Well, yes, his central appendage was as ample as his lower extremities. So I deduced it was Harold's talented big toe poking at my shithole. When Jimmy stood up, Ted put his booted foot on my face, standing on the bare one. Jimmy took his suit pants off, and I saw that gorgeous black body contrasting with his bright tighty whities. He too was stroking his cock through his briefs, until his black sausage could take the confinement no longer and insisted on coming up and out over the elastic waistband. I felt the sock pull away from my dick and it was soon replaced by one of Jimmy's feet. His toes took my cock in their vice grip. Meanwhile skinny Gary got out of his cutoffs, and joined the wanking party three feet over my chest. Now it was Harold's turn to strip. He pulled his foot out of my ass just long enough to doff his undies, then quickly rammed it back in while he removed his vest. I wanted him to go deeper and shit, he wanted that also, so Jimmy and Gary each grabbed one of my knees and pulled them back over my chest to give Bigfoot's big foot the clearance it needed. I'd had dildos, and plenty of cocks, as well as a fist once, but I had never been fucked by a big toe. I closed my eyes in ecstasy. "That's it, Bigfoot," I heard Ted say, "Spread that hole up as wide as you can." Ted took his boot off my face and I watched him go over to the dresser and get a can of crisco. Like I said, I had been fisted once so I thought I knew what was coming. But I was wrong. Jimmy was still gripping my cock in his tight toes, Harold was still toe-fucking my asshole, and Gary now had one sock on my face. All three were wanking hard. Suddenly, Ted said, "OK, get it ready." The three others stopped what they were doing and pulled my knees back to my ears leaving my ass in the air wide open. Then I felt Ted's hand spreading huge gobs of lard on and in my ass. From experience, I knew enough to relax. As he inserted a finger, then two, then three, I breathed easily, allowed my sphincter to open and waited for the penetration to come. But then just when I thought I'd feel his fist, Big Jimmy grabbed my shoulders and Gary and Harold each held a leg and lifted me up. "OK," Ted ordered, "Nice and slow." I was looking at the ceiling and the three of them slowly lowered me until i felt my asshole touch something hard. With all the crisco, the something began to penetrate easily, but it wasn't a fist, it wasn't a dildo. I was getting fucked by a fuckin p! ointed cowboy boot! Once I realized what was entering me, I was in ecstasy. I let loose a huge wad of jizz that spurted up on my chest. The three now let go of me. There I was impaled on Ted's boot. I propped myself with my hands on the floor, and looked right at my cowboy. He was sitting bare assed on the floor, his shirt still on but open showing his lovely pecs. And he was loving the fact that his boot was in my ass. He was working away on that sidearm he kept between his legs. The others were all standing above us, jerking hard. Jimmy was the first to explode, spraying his splooge all over my face. As soon as he got off two or three loads, he went back to gripping my cock with his toes. Then Harold exploded first on my chest, then on the top of my head. After that, he got a chair, sat down and stuck his foot in my face. He smooged the cum from my face on to his sole, and then gave it to me to lick off. Gary aimed his cum right on to my dick and Jimmy's foot. Then he put his socked foot on my abs and pressed down to make sure I was fully impaled on Ted's boot. Finally Ted too erupted spraying his cum ! all the way down his legs to my thighs. I was lifted off of the boot. Jimmy and Gary retreated to the bed and began kissing and fondling each other's cocks. Ted had me remove the boot again, and I began to lick it, tasting the crisco mixed with my asshole juice, and sniffing the warm leather. By now, Harold was on the bed getting ready to fuck Jimmy who was still kissing Gary. Ted, barefoot again, also joined them laying down in a position to scissor fuck Gary. From my position on the floor, all I could see were eight scrumptious feet sticking out off the end of the bed, and I crawled over to make the most of this buffet. I went back and forth from one foot to the next, often tasting two at once, while the owners of these feet fucked the shit out of each other. Ted now got in the doggy position but made sure his feet still stuck off the bed for me. Gary climbed on top of him so I could lick his socks while he fucked Ted. Harold however stood at the end of the bed and bent over it so Jimmy could fuck him standing up. I licked their feet on the floor. Position after position, each man fucked and got fucked in this orgy while I gorged my appetite on feet. "OK, Men," Harold announced, "It's midnight. Time to make this Cinderella a pumpkin again." They all chuckled. Jimmy pushed me down so my face was on the floor and my ass was high in the air. Harold gave me his feet to lick one final time, and I felt someone fuck my ass, which was still a little sore from the boot. I felt his cum fill me, then a second cock entered and another pair of feet was given to me to lick. One by one, each man fucked the footslave and got a final footbath. Then Jimmy kicked my ass over to the door. I grabbed my clothes, and was literally kicked out the door. As I drove home, my chest, head, abs and thighs were crusted in dying jizz. My bare asshole was oozing wet jizz on to the car seat. And my head was swimming in images of sneakers, socks, wingtips, loafers, boots, and big, gorgeous, hairy, aromatic, delicious masculine feet!