Sweaty Foot Slave

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Sweaty Foot Slave


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Update meaning for: Footslave

A person who is lucky enough to devote his life to worshiping his mistress' feet. He lives only to serve her feet.
Gemma had loved having her own footslave, she teased him, she whipped him for not licking her toes properly and she tortured him. But he loved being under her sweaty feet all day as he had a foot fetish.
1. A slave who kisses and worships his master's feet upon her demand, and lives to serve her and her glorious feet.
If I do everything my master orders me to do correcty, he will reward me by letting me worship her feet as her footslave.
See slave , master , whipped , foot fetish , whiped

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1752728-Forced-to-be-a-footslave-after-school/map/113
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Young Adult · # 1752728
You get blackmailed into becoming a footslave by a girl you know from school.
GP for adds
Created: February 19th, 2011 at 7:45 am
This choice: Beg for her to rub her smelly sweaty socked feet on your face. · Go Back...
"very good slave boy. Now beg your Mistress to rub her feet all over your face." She said with an amused tone in her voice while she stared down at your horrified face. what could you say? protesting meant either physical harm or she would walk away and tell your mother about your poor grades. but to do THAT!? "p-p-pleas.....do I?" you stammer as you look up into her piercing dominant gaze with fear. Queeny extended her hand to your jaw as she leaned in close and the whispered into your ear "you can beg me for the privilege or who knows what your mother will do to you after she hears her son failed his classes and then attacked poor innocent me." She brought herself back to her original position and looked down at you with a smile. "now what was it you were saying slave?"

"Please Mistress may I-"
"may your slave" she interjected.
"....may your slave have your feet rubbed all over his face?"
"hmmm...I suppose so, you may as well get used to it now. you will be spending many a long day evening sniffing, massaging, and licking Mistresses feet after She has had a long day. Now what do you say to your Mistress?"
"t-thank you Mistress"
"not bad, now remove my shoes with your mouth and place them neatly on the ground." She ordered.

Gingerly your took hold of her heel and began to undo her laces with your mouth and tongue. You could hear Queeny sigh with triumphant pleasure at seeing a male humiliated like this for her pleasure. slowly and carefully you undid the laces and could already smell the sweat on her feet. Your stomach sank and you slid her shoe off and started on the next.
"my my such good oral work you have" she giggled "and soon I'll teach you to be the perfect footslave."
'at least its only for a few weeks. maybe she'll get bored after a few days and let me go early. I can only hope.' you say to yourself as you place her shoes together on the ground.
You look up at Queeny and she extends her black sock clad feet to your face.
"take a deep breath and inhale the scent of your Mistress." she orders.
Her sole come into contact and you wish the day hadn't been so hot. tiny pools of sweat were being harbored inside her shoes and now as she slowly moved her feet around you face, lips and neck all you could do was shake and kneel before her. you could feel each toe on her right foot glide accross your lips while the left foot moved gently across your neck. Queeny then moved her soles and arches all across your face. you couldn't be sure if it was the humiliation or the smell that made you want to pass out more. This continued for several grueling minutes until Queeny said
"that's enough for now slave. you have been such a good boy so far. now how about..."
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From Friend to Footslave Telling this story isn’t easy, because for the most part it will sound like some sleazy piece of fetish-fiction a lonely, fat redneck wrote. Well, everything I will tell you now actually happened to me two years ago, as fictional and made up as it will sound. I’m only telling this story anonymously in the first place because I want to inspire other people with a secret foot fetish who can’t live it out - If a chance presents before you, take it. Don’t be too ashamed to tell it to someone, if you have a special someone. Or in my case, don’t be afraid to risk something. However, I should start with the summer two years ago, introducing myself. My name is Tom, I was then 21 years old and studied (and still do) Biology in my third semester in Berlin, Germany. To handle the costs as a poor student without financial help from his parents, I moved into a shared apartment at the beginning of my studies with three other young students, two girls and a guy. We all went along pretty well and even became friends to some decree, of interest for this story though is only Rebecca, with her nineteen years she was the baby in our group, cheerful, open-minded and always a dark, dirty joke on the lips. From the first moment I saw her I knew she somehow fascinated me. Not only her natural beauty, despite her young age and slender figure she was just as tall as me with her 5 feet, she always weared her long, darkbrown and silky hair up-pinned in a messy tail, with single hairs and wisps standing out and creating her inperfect beauty. The part of her that actually stood out to me though were her feet. When I was around fourteen I realized I have a strong footfetish, I understood why I always unconsciously stared at my female classmates shoes and feet when we had sport classes, I understood why I enjoyed to massage my ex-girlfriends feet so much. But since I hadn’t have a girlfriend for a while and was never brave enough to tell anyone about my fetish, I couldn’t live out in in any way. When I met Rebecca it didn’t take long for me to recognize how attracted I was to her feet. She always wore comfortable clothes, jeans or sweatpants with a nifty shirt, but the eye-catcher were her punky, black boots that didn’t fit the rest of her style at all, but were all the more mesmerizing. Since we spent a lot of time together, I had plenty of chances to glance at her socked feet when she was busy with something - Rebecca usually wore white ankle socks, often several days in succession as I soon noticed, and when she sat in her chair in our living room reading a book, she loved to let them dangle and play around with her dirtied, almost black toes. Sometimes when I sat next to her and tried desperately not to stare at her feet she wiggled her toes really brisk like she was trying to get my attention, but when I looked up I saw she only got to an exciting part of her book. Not to mention the situations where she was wearing no socks at all - she had big, slender feet with delicate, beautiful shaped toes, her soles seemed incredible smooth and she made a point of taking care of her toenails faithfully as one of the few things about her. She was single, and so was I, but we both knew she wasn’t romantically interested in me, still we became more and more close friends. Day after day I fantasized about how much her feet must have been sweating in those boots, it was highsummer and always around 27 degrees outside, so her feet in her worn-out-socks in her punk-boots must been STEAMING. Sometimes when she came home from a lecture in the university she was too exhausted to go to her room and just let herself fall in her chair in the living room, peeling her boots off. The sweaty smell that spread inside the whole apartment in few moments was beyond stinky, it was outright nauseant. And while that got her many tongue-lashings from our two other roommates who were understandably disgusted, I instead had to always pretend to be appalled too, and leave for my room so Rebecca wouldn’t notice my nearly bursting pants. Rebecca was cool, she was carefree and did every dumb activity with you if it meant some fun, but we were only friends and there would have been no point in telling her of my fetish. So fantasies about her smelly, dirty feet were everything it would ever be for me. Until the four of us decided to play the good, old spin-the-bottle one evening in our shared living room. We had quite a lot of fun, and surely some of us were a bit drunk, most of the tasks were typical student-stuff like ‘Give her a kiss on the cheek’, ‘Take a shot’ and so on, nothing serious. While I didn’t really drink I didn’t mind those partygames either, every chance to be with Rebecca, and take a look at her feet on top of that, was welcome. This evening again she wore her technically white socks with rather dark soles from the cumulated sweat and dirt of three or four days. Nelly, the other girl that lived with us here, already gave her an angry lecture about her footsmell an hour ago, but all she got in response were Rebeccas steaming feet in her face, the brown-haired beauty teased Nelly with them giggling, and by now nobody didn’t really mind anymore. But Nelly obviously didn’t forget about it. “So, let’s get a bit more serious…” she proclaimed with a sinister smile to the three of us. “O-ho~” was Rebeccas smiling response. She was a sucker for serious. Ray, the fourth person living in this apartment, and I looked at each other and he asked, in a rather comical manner, “PLEASE EXPLAIN, MY QUEEN.” Nelly suddenly stood up and posed like she was indeed the queen of some ancient fantasy-kingdom. “So I shall, my loyal subjects!” she procclaimed, earning cheerful applause from Ray and Rebecca. And from me, since I didn’t want to be a buzzkill. Luckily Nelly sat back on the floor again and pointed at Rebeckas feet. “They fucking stink, and we all know that.” Her tone was insulting and amused at the same moment, and Rebecca didn’t do more than smile provocative. “So what, bitch? Wanna kiss them?” “No, not quiet.” grinned Nelly who probably had drunk the most alcohol out of us in the last two hours. “But whoever the bottle points to gets to take a deep, big sniff from your soles directly on his nose, rhyme not intended.” “Oh fuck, no…”, laughed Ray while scratching his hair furiously, “isn’t it bad enough we have to suffer from Beckys Lack of foot-hygiene every day when she comes home? Fuck you Nelly!” He threw some chips at nelly but she didn’t so much as laugh shrugging, seemingly content with her idea. Rebecca too only shrugged with a disinterested face and said “Okay. I expected something really thrilling, but okay. Whatever floats your boat, Nelly.” We all had a good laugh. Well, expect for me, who just pretended to. This wasn’t good. The chance that I would have to smell Rebeccas totally worn-out, smelly socks in a few seconds was one to three, and while the thought of smelling the feet I was dreaming of nearly eight months by now was unimaginable exciting, the danger that anyone would notice I actually enjoyed it was far, far too big. And there would definitely happen something in my pants. But backing out now as the only person would only make me suspicious, so I had no chance but to pray. Nelly flipped the bottle, it spined, it spinned… and pointed to Rebecca. The relief that filled my entire body was tremendous. Nelly made a rash gesture towards Rebecca with her right hand and said “Go on. Just because they’re your feet doesn’t mean you don’t have to participate. Take at least on of them.” Rebecca rolled her eyes but didn’t really seem bothered. She put her left, socked foot on her nose and took a long, deep breath from it without hestitation. No second later did she pull away her foot with a disgusted face and coughed violently, accompanied from Rays and Nellys tearful laughter. “For FUCKS sake”, sweared Rebecca, “I really have to change my socks more often.” “THANK YOU!!” added Nelly. “But it was you, that doesn’t count, so let’s do it again.” “Come OOON!” objected Ray while he threw his arms into the air, but as I knew my friend he was too lazy (and drunk) to say any more, and so Nelly ignored him. Rebecca chuckled and took the bottle. “If you want to smell them that bad you have only to tell me, Nelly love. No problem at all.” I tried to ignore Rebeccas sweet voice as she said that, and Nelly only grinned, telling her to move the damn bottle. It was spinning. I prayed. Spinning. One to three. Spinning. The bottle pointed to me, and Nelly was clapping furiously while Ray just seemed to be happy it didn’t get him. Rebecca smiled at me apologetic and meant “I will really, really change them more often Tom, I promise.” Nelly however didn’t want to wait any longer. “Come on, you’re one of her best friends Tom, shouldn’t be too hard for you!” “Yeah yeah, whatever…” I mumbled mustering all the strength I could. I would just sniff on it very quick, say it was fucking disgusting and that’s it. Nobody would notice anything, and I probably would still remember that moment for the next few years. I crouched to Rebecca who was holding both of her darkened soles towards me, supporting her legs with her arms. She smiled a bit uncomfortably. Usually it didn’t really seem to trouble her when others noticed her feet from a distance, but she looked not so happy with her friend smelling them from close-up, after she herself did and learned how incredible stinky they were. I brought her big, warm feet close to my face and took a sniff. I could feel my body heating up in a splitsecond, it was unimaginable. I thought I had an idea about how bad her feet smelled when I always sat next to her, but holding them directly on your nose is something completely different. The sweaty, cheesy smell was really salty and bitter, but had a sweet note I knew I would never get enough from if I would have the chance. Her socks smelled like an old shoe rack of a footballteam, only ten times worse, or better, in my case. To almost feel her warm, soft sockfabric on my face certainly didn’t help either. I took a second sniff. It was too wonderful to be true. It was true. Oh fuck. When I realized what I just did I jerked back from Rebeccas feet immediately and looked at the other two in panic - Ray and Nelly were laughing, the latter stated “Yeah, that’s what I thought your reaction would be” and Ray added “If I would have been in your shoes I wouldn’t have stopped to hold my breath, mate. Respect you pulled through.” At first I was irritated, but then I understood. They both thought I just pretended to smell Rebeccas feet, and misinterpreted my panic as a real sniff. Well, fair enough, they were both reasonably drunk, but this much luck COULDN’T exist… right? I looked over to Rebecca, she just smiled shyly and probably had the same thoughts as the both laughing messes next to us. Obviously, that much luck did exist. I couldn’t believe I got away with that one, that could have ruined our whole apartmentlife together. I joined my friends laughing and forgot that Rebecca was the only one that felt my breathing at her soles.

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