Feet Worship Mistress Smelly

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Feet Worship Mistress Smelly
Ok I’m terrible at writing and would appreciate any and all criticism or editing help . But here is the first bit of a true experience from my past lemme know if anyone would be Interested in hearing more


Greetings To the Den

Long Time lurker making my first attempt at committing one of my experiences to writing.A little backstory I have loved feet (mature smelly ones particularly)for as long as I can remember and was “lucky”enough to have some odd interesting and enjoyable experiences from an early age I hope to share them with you all please excuse the rough edges and please constructively criticize.



Going back through years there are a couple instances with a couple of women or girls in my life that had varying impacts on my foot fetish but perhaps the most influential might perhaps be my own older sister.My sister and I are roughly 15 years apart Moms had my sister young but despite that we were always mostly close as she often babysat my younger brother and I when my mother was at work.Myself and my siblings are all mixed race to give you a description of my sister (please bare with me describing my sister in a way that doesn’t gross me out has its difficulty) she is fared skinned with long dark hair about 5”8 a “full bodied” woman she I suppose looks Latina or mullato if your familier with these term more importantly she wears a size 11 wide with shapely attractive toes and well proportioned soles always kept pedicured and we’ll maintained,but by far her feet’s most memorable quality is ther absolute reek........My sisters feet are by far some of the smelliest foulest soles I have ever smelled and that’s with women trying to smell them up my sister produces a literally eye watering smell with almost no effort.I want to be clear when I say eye watering I mean this 100% no hyperbole at all after a long hot day in her favorite work flats or house work shoes or god forbid twice worn stockings the smell literally made people my brother and I tear up.

Which is where we start the good part my sister was a bit of a disciplinarian my mother tending to be less strict with me her first born son.my sister also had a bit of a sadistic streak and a tiny bit of jealousy at my mothers favoritism towards me.My sister delighted in devising new ways to torture my brother and especially myself and take great glee in finding every excuse to exact such punishment.My sister’s intense feet were a known fact in my household,My sister (let’s call her T)being T simply didn’t care.When she would arrive home from work in the evenings(secretary) she would promptly remove her shoes and leave them in the living room by the mantle(fireplace)and air out her large aromatic soles I vividly remember the almost physical strength with which her foot smell filled the room seconds after her well worn shoes hit the ground.The stench of her feet has an almost “warm shower quality right after work like baking bread or boiling water like her foot sweat makes it own steam.

Now I’m not sure exactly when this “punishment”began but it lasted many years even after my sister discovered my foot fetish(though with less frequency)her sadistic imagination in finding new ways to subject my brother and I too her smelly feet could rival some of the best foot smelling stories out there had she not been my sister I would say I’m the luckiest foot sniffer alive but the cards fall how the will.I consider myself atleast somewhat lucky because despite the gross conflict and feeling of shame I did enjoy smelling her feet and I did many many many times but this time I think I’ll cover the first incident that I can remember “the Foot”was new at the time but I remember knowing what’s coming this wasn’t the first time it happened but this is the first I recall

It was a cold winter morning perhaps December long island’s bitter wet chill was in the air and my brother and I ( maybe 10 and 6)were reluctant to rise from our beds for school our mother begged bargained and even bribed with porridge but neither of us wanted to leave that blanket cocoon.by 7:45 our mother frustrated with our resistance had made the announcement that usually had us up and mobile in seconds “you already missed first bell your goin be late!!”I’m getting your sister down here!”On most occasions this dire proclamation halted our sibling passive protest,fear of whatever reckoning our older sister could decide for us propelled us through the morning regime.....but today was different today we were tired cranky and anchored to our side by side twin beds.Both of us mostly conscious but holding to our guns knew our mother had bowed out we were at our tyrannical sister’s mercy my brother looked to me with questioning eyes wondering what our play was I nodded my resolve we both knew that missing the first bell meant we were already late rushing now was pointless as now our only chance for entry was the late bell we gambled that we won 20 mins of guaranteed snooze time whatever the cost would be worth it we were wrong.seconds after my nod we heard our older sister booming with a mix of morning aggravation but also her trademark sadistic glee”missed the first bell hunh boys? You know what that means right?we glanced at each other in confusion we knew missing the bell usually meant some kind of punishment usually quick as T was in a rush to get to work as well but her tone and confidence conveyed something different.Our minds just begin to wonder what torture she had in mind when our door burst open and she announced in a loud smiling voice “You get the Foot!”

My brother’s face slacked in defeat I began the all to familiar cycle of mixed emotions of shame anticipation disgust and arousal at the prospect of sniffing my sister’s ripe feet she continued grinning wider as she went since y’all got 20 whole minutes to lay in bed you get 20 minutes of the foot and still get to be on time! Great hunh? Should listened the first time.our mouths moved in protest that we knew was useless past experiences taught us anything but compliance made it worse she bolted to the dining room and retrieved her coffee and a dining chair she placed it at the foot of our twin beds down here face up she barked!in tandem we submitted to our fate our sister plopped one thick leg and huge foot on each of our beds near our faces clad only In her last Christmas worn fuzzy house slippers the smell already was assertive.she placed her big feet on the inside between us as we were both laying on our backs we had to look at each other to fulfill her next directive.Part of me knew what was coming next and it stirred a whirlwind of thought and emotion that’s almost beyond description to be clear I’m not attracted to my sister but I cant deny my reaction to her feet I’m much more comfortable with the concept today but back then it was a mindfuck!Added to the psychological aspects of the situation one has to address the physical effect of my sister’s feet.At such a tender age I had not built up The refined pallet required to appreciate my sister’s soles so on some occasions even I was overwhelmed.The reek from her feet has an almost thermal quality it’s thick consistent and is as unique as her finger print a sweaty cheesy odor that is at the same time leathery and rich and sharp and tangy at range it can make your food taste bad with your nose between her long thick toes it makes your mouth water and eyes water you get lost in the deep complexity of her miasma weather you like feet or not you can’t help but ponder the intricate layers that each inhale conveys to your brain.My brother and I shivered at what was to come him in pure disgust,me in a twisted mix of anticipation shame and also disgust.Her beloved well worn house slippers did little to contain the smell of there contents at this range but nothing could have prepared us for what came next. With a sip of her coffee and utmost confidence she ordered..... take em off.......The thing to remember about T’s feet is despite there consistency and unique signature each pair of feet wear produces a new unique experience.Leather work pumps impart rich deep dark notes with there age,cheap flats a warm pungent cloying scent with slick slimy toe jam.But these old well worn beloved house slippers were a special vintage worn daily straight after work never washed warm and sticky.
Nice story definitely interested in hearing more

Sent from my SM-G975U using Tapatalk


Thank you for the positive encouragement it’s a topic I’ve never been able to really express soon as I’m in the mood I’ll crank out the rest
Please do continue the story, we're enjoying it.
Thanks I’m working on the second part I have a few more stories with my sister’s feet I’ll try to post them all here fairly regularly it’s nice to be able to sorta confess something so odd and taboo
Nice story. Even if the form could be better, the content is great. The thought of using feet as a punishment like that is of course very alluring for people like us, and being made to participate in it, submitting, taking the slippers off, etc, is even more intense.

The topic is, as you say, pretty taboo, but it's good to be able to talk about it, and it sounds like you came out of it alright.
"I would defend her and teach her, control her and train her, until she learned her own incalculable worth, and she stood upright and proud, strong and confident, looking at the world in the eye and yielding to no-one but me." --Fiona Esmonde
Growing up all the times it happened there was always the duality of enjoying it but also being ashamed and sometimes overwhelmed for sure I have a greater appreciation for it now in retrospect.The other consequence of this was my appetite for truly rank soles
I found your story quite fascinating and an easy read and I am looking forward to seeing part two and I have to admit that you are a bit hard on yourself with respect to grammar and sentence structure because like I said I thought you made it very easy and read and I didn't notice anything any more grammar mistakes than the usual daily submissions on the internet or television and as a matter of fact just last night I was watching the History Channel and their episode about the history of food in America and one of the so called experts they have that make comments amidst the stories actually used the word their selves in describing the inherent belief that these food pioneers had in Themselves only she used the word their selves which of course there is no such word in the English language and I got so annoyed that I wrote an email about it to the producers at the History Channel
11:35 AM - 3 days ago #9 2022-09-05T11:35

I did not write the following. If you did, or you know who the author is, please PM me or post in this topic and I will update it with the correct credentials.

It was a really hot summer day. The sun beat down as hard as it could, so me and my best friend hung out inside her nice air conditioned bedroom. My name’s Blake, and I’m a nineteen year old high school graduate. Having not gone to college yet, I was able to spend a lot of my time going to friends’ houses. Tracy, my eighteen year old best friend, is one of those friends. The two of us have known each other since I was seven and she was six, and we have been inseparable ever since. 

It was around 3:30 in the afternoon, the time of the day where the sun seemed to burn the brightest in the sky. Tracy and I had recently come back from jogging, so our hair was matted to our foreheads and our shirts were stained with sweat. The cool air of her room felt amazing after being in that 98 degree heat. The two of us sat comfortably on her bed.

We decided to play Super Smash Bros. for the Wii-U, an awesome Nintendo fighting game that was sort of a tradition to play. The character I always played the most out of, Samus, was getting the crap beaten out by Tracy’s main, Captain Falcon. I didn’t do a good job evading all of her attacks, and finally one Falcon punch sent me flying off of the stage and into oblivion.

“Darn,” I grumbled between shaky breaths. My final stock had been taken away, while Tracy still had two. “Another round. This time no items. Final Destination. This time I plan to win!”

“That’s what you always say!” Tracy laughed as we were sent back to the character select screen. I chose Robin, another character that I played a lot of, and she chose Luigi of all characters. “How about this time we make a bet. The loser has to do something super embarrassing.”

“Like what?” I asked, and the two of us sat for a moment in though. “How about...the loser has to smell the winner’s feet!”

“Eww, gross,” Tracy said, clicking start and going to select a stage. “You just gave me more of a reason to beat your ass.” Suddenly I was regretting opening my big mouth. Why would I even suggest something like that? Tracy was a lot better at these games than I was. For every twenty of her wins, I must have won twice. I refused to lose this time.

So the match began on Final Destination. Five stocks, no items. I was so terrified of losing that I escaped her every attack and jumped out of the way, but never even landed a single hit myself. I realized I couldn’t delay the match any longer so I began mashing the buttons, attempting to destroy Luigi. My plan didn’t work out like I had hoped. she was a lot better at evading attacks and countering. The match went on for several minutes. I was in a familiar spot, with her being at two stocks and me only having one. My damage was in the sixties. I had to beat her. I charged up my special attack and shot the beam of lightning towards her, sending Luigi flying into the air. I was quick to leap ahead, hit him with my sword, and send him flying off of the map.

As Luigi began to respawn above the ground, I took that moment to take a small breath. My eyes darted to Tracy’s shoes. Those old shoes she’s been wearing for over a year now. Inside those shoes were a filthy pair of socks and her smelly bare feet. 

The thought of having to smell those feet up close made me gag. There have been times when she slipped out of her shoes, and almost instantly the putrid smell of her feet filled the room. It’s something I’ve had to tolerate for years.

With Robin and Luigi both with one stock remaining, the stakes were on. We each took turns pummeling each other, but since I had a higher damage, I was sent flying farther and farther with each hit. Finally, with one up-B move from the green plumber, I was sent skyrocketing, coming back down to slam into the camera and then fall down and disappear. The match was over.

“Ugh, are you kidding me!?” I dropped the controller and grabbed my head in anger. 

“Hope you’re ready to smell these puppies,” Tracy said, holding back her laughter. “Get off the bed.” I did as I was told, hopping off of the bed. “On your knees.” Tracy was completely demanding. As I lowered myself onto my knees, I was scared of what was to come. Tracy remained seated at the edge of her bed. she lifted her feet up into the air, her shoes inches away from my face. I could almost smell them. “Take my shoes off, please.”

My hands trembled as I wrapped my fingers around the heel of her left shoe, grabbing it and slipping it off of her foot. The stench hit me immediately. I could feel my gag reflex start to act up. Out of pure instinct I dropped her shoe and went to cover my nose. Tracy saw what I was doing, yanked off her right shoe, grabbed my head with one hand, and with the other she held her shoe over my nose. 

“Oh, GOD, your shoe reeks!” I grabbed her arm with both hands, but was unable to push her shoe off of my poor, helpless little nose. I had no choice but to inhale deeply. It was either that, or stop breathing entirely and suffocate. And I prefered smelling her putrid shoes over dying, any day.

After several seconds of that torture, she dropped her shoe and then extended her feet out towards my face. The socks she were wearing were short pink, girly socks. They might have been brighter at some other moment in time, but now they were dark, dirty, and damp with sweat.

Before leaning in to smell her socks, I asked, “Do I HAVE to?” 

“Duh!” came Tracy’s response. “I’ve been wearing these socks for weeks now. The bet was for you to smell my feet, in all of their stinky glory. That includes my shoes and socks.” I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment. But I leaned forward anyway and pressed my nose against her right sock. I wanted to puke! I was unable to back away. Tracy was still grabbing the back of my head with one hand. she suddenly pressed her right foot onto my nose, squeezing my nose in between her disgusting toes. 

“Your socks...are so...gross…” I managed to say in between forced sniffs. My lungs were filled with the disgusting aroma of Tracy’s smelly socks. I just wanted to get some fresh air! I got a second and a half of freedom when her right foot left my face alone, but the feeling was short lived when her left foot pushed against my face. “Ugh...mmphh…nasty…”

“How do my feet smell, Blake!?” Tracy asked, but I didn’t answer her. She already knew the answer. In response to my silence she pressed both of her feet against my face and rubbed them up and down. I couldn’t tell if my face was burning because of my embarrassment, or because of her hot and sweaty socks? she had been wearing her socks and shoes since she woke up in the morning, so they were really drenched in sweat. I was practically drowning in it! I could have taken her socks and wrung them out like a wet towel! “Hey, why don't you lay down?” Not wanting to argue, I laid down on the carpeted floor, looking upwards at Tracy as if she were a giant and I were an ant. 

She got off of her bed and stood tall above me. she lifted up her left foot, grabbed at her sock, and tugged it off, throwing it off to the side. her foot crashed onto the ground beside my head. she did the same to her right sock, and then that foot landed on the other side of my head. “How much longer is this going to be? I don’t think I can take much more of this!” I called up to Tracy.

Tracy smiled mischievously down to me, lifted up her left foot, and pressed it against my chest, her big toe poking against my chin. “Let’s see how much more you can take before you pass out!” Tracy raised her right foot into the air and hovered it right over my face. My eyes darted from her heel to her toes. her bare foot was glistening with sweat, and nasty pink sock lint and dirt collected around her toes. The cheesy scent of her feet fumed downwards towards my nostrils. I didn’t know how much more I could take! Tracy lowered her foot, and her big toe pressed against my lips. she smeared her big toe around my lips, applying pressure, trying to shove it into my mouth. I tried my hardest not to let her. 

She removed her left foot from my chest and instead suddenly pressed it against my nose. “Oh...yuck!” she squeezed my nose between her filthy toes, forcing me to inhale the sweaty stench. I didn’t move or fight back because I know that it would have been futile. While her left foot smothered me, her right foot continued fooling around with my lip, this time using her first three toes to try and pry my mouth open. “Mmmphh….stop...mmm…” I could barely speak. If my mouth opened even a little her toes would enter. 

“Open wiiiiiiiide,” Tracy sang, pressing her toes harder against my lips and squeezing tighter on my nose. “Say ahhhhhhhhhh!”

“Mmmm...no….MMPPHH!!!” That was the end of it. Why was I stupid enough to say “no”? The second my mouth opened, I was greeted by the not-so-delightful taste of her sweaty toes. I had no choice but to slide my tongue along the surface of her sweaty toes as they entered my mouth. I gagged. My heart raced and beads of sweat (probably Tracy’s foot sweat)
Ffm Teen Stockings
Left Naked
Ok Nudist