Chapter 5 Of His Old Boots
Last week, George stopped by after work and settled into the living room.
"Hand me a cold one." He casual ordered, turning on the TV.
Football chattered in the room as Ben entered the kitchen quietly. Images of the seven days prior flashed through his mind: George, Phil, and Mike lounging on the couch, their significant limbs spread wide as they basked in sensual attention to their feet and cocks by a shoe admirer.
"Here you are, Luke Skywalker," grinned Ben as he handed George the beer.
He reached out for George's boots.
George pointed at his feet and snapped his fingers.
Immediately, Ben crouched down, gently removed the boots and started to massage George's feet. He familiarized himself with the soft, damp texture of George's socks, bracing against the cheese smell. Ben's tongue slid across the attached toe nails and continued to knead the rough areas. His sensual struggle ended with the combination of toes rubbing each other.
George snarled his eyes, `Take those off.'
Distracted by self-removal, Ben evaluated their importance to George's experience and submission. George's toes were respected with a rare deference.
`Get reveling.''Brace. Here they are. Master, you have reigned me.' Ben knelt before him, palpitating each toe carefully. He enveloped George's massive feet and made use of his mouth, serving each foot meticulously,
A surge of emotion consumed him, `Taste the flavor.'
Ben graced George's toes with his tongue, licking the sweat and aforementioned cheese stink off of the familiarly large prominences. He took it as a sign of honest appreciation, `I will slurp off your dirt. Your sole reeks to heaven's sweet taste.'
George's second boot was being removed quickly. Its destruction revealed the magical performance of George's feet over time.
`That's how feet are meant to be.'
George directed Ben's tongue to tread each one of his toes, . He started to embrace Ben's position, understanding its significance, `I like the feel of power.'
`Tell me why you love my toes.'
Ben wrestled through his mind for a response.
`I feel your body is worthy of respect. Your beautiful bare feet represent your strength.'
`Interesting.'
Ben continued his tongue-work as George laid back.
`I guess I could say you're stronger than most. What's stopping you from realizing your self worth?'
`I'm holding it in.'
Ben considered his implications. Beyond the submission, the self-depreciative feelings, he realized, `I'm ashamed to say that these toes represent the ultimate in life.'
`Glad we're at the same page. You do a fantastic job George. Go ahead, take off each one and keep licking.'"
Ben cheerfully complied,`Yes Master. May your feet be served.'
George's saucy grin widened.
`I'm glad you enjoy my feet so much. You serve as a direct reflection of my foot fandom.'
Ben receives waves of grandeur from his master's presence. His tongue kept moving between the toes and over the heels.
`Yes Mastser, I hope your feet never leave my space truthfully.' Ben knew his words were clear, signing off on a lifelong dedication to the sport of foot-kissing. George commended Ben's understanding of hierarchy.
`I'm grateful for it.'
The future was plotted in toe-sucking, united under George's control. Ben realized he had given into this fate, `Submit heart and soul to my boot worship.'
You've kept my feet smooth and clean. Thank you. Sure, we're still friends. As long as a bit different.'
Ben shifted uncomfortably. `Yes, Master. It's just that I also enjoy your company as a friend.'
George, though genial in tone, pretended not to have noticeable benefits, `Hmm.'
Ben felt unqualified, `namely treating your feet as deity.'
George considered, `Maybe I dug your attitude. Through the footsucking submition, you've loosened up more than you think.'
Ben opened his mouth to reply, considering the merits of full openness, `I thought about it, sir.'
`Right, then talk deep.'
`I adore your feet. They remind me of how powerful you are.'
`So does it turn you on? Knowing how powerful I am?'
`Yes, it's definitely the foot fetish aspect sir, and your strength is very attractive. And the greater part is I respect you more than anything.'
`So you serve me because you respect my authority. And then you masturbate on the sexual organ expertly placed on your leg. I'll see you in a few days, there, butterfly.'
Ben nodded, `understood. Will I be able to rescue you in honor whenever you surrender to your sexual urges?'
`Possibly. Perhaps we should meet in the future.'
He accepted the substantial connection the two shared, `I'd be honored to, sir.'
`Thanks, it's just that you give a lot of respect for me. I thought it fitting to see your unbridled humiliation.'
Ben felt the need to inform George, `I will embrace the shame. '
The significance of foot worship as a way getting submerged in the power of a wiser presence was validated between them.
And I'm the master of your affairs.'
`Yes, Master. Absolutely.' Ben fell at George's feet and sucked each one slowly.
Yeah, alright... You're now my personal footboy, my personal servant, and you'll do whatever to make my life easier. I'm your boss, buddy.
"Yes, sir, sir... I can't resist..." Ben showed devotion as he kissed the soles eagerly.
George chuckled and grabbed his right boot off the ground. He shoved the boot's opening against Ben's face, covering his nose and mouth, making him breathe in the damp sweatiness. He tied the shoelace around Ben's head, holding it tightly.
"Take off your shorts, and get on your hands and knees. I need to rest my legs."
Ben felt a slap to his bare groin as soon as he got into position. He jerked and hopped a bit, and the sound was muffled by the shoe. It took some time for him to realize George was tying the shoelace around his testicles.
He demanded an explanation, but George disregarded him. The left shoe was beautifully connected to the bottom of his testicles, tugging them down and stretching them uncomfortably. George examined the scene and snickered loudly.
Ben blushed on his hands and knees. With one shoe attached to his face, and another shoe hanging from his balls, he probably looked more like an object than a person. He felt the weight of the giant calves on his back, as George crossed his legs over him and calmly watched the rest of the game.
He lost track of the game time again, but things weren't very entertaining. The weight on his back was growing heavier the more he waited. His arms and legs started to shake, and he was forced to inhale the sweaty breath inside the shoe, until it started to affect his brain. The lack of oxygen was making him slightly dizzy.
The shoe attached to his balls was pulling way too hard. The pain was agonizing, but George seated comfortably on the couch, sipping his beer. A strange reaction suddenly occurred. Despite the pain, Ben's dick began to twitch feebly in the air.
Ben stayed like that for the rest of the game - until the very last second. Precum oozed out of his dick, creating a thin string that touched the floor.
George cleared his throat. "Come in!" he shouted.
Ben was on edge, fearing the worst. The loud laughter that echoed inside the room relieved him. It was Phil and Mike, both friends.
They swatted his bare ass, laughing at the absurd image and patting his head.
"Foot fag! Look at him!" Phil made fun of him with his stupid country accent.
"Is my footboy accepting his place?" Mike asked amusedly.
"Yeah, he's doing what I told him to do," explained George matter-of-factly. "And footstool."
Both friends burst out laughing. They didn't waste any time, placing their feet on Ben's back right away. The weight of their legs crushed his back, as the three men discussed the final score and removed their boots.
The room was filled with their loud burps and the smell of dirty feet. Ben was almost hallucinating from the combination.
"You know what, let's see if those tiny balls can handle it," said Mike, wearing a wicked grin.
Mike picked up one of his heavy, dirty shoes and tied the shoelace atop George's shoe. Ben moaned and protested again, but George just shrugged. As the weight yanked his testicles down, the pressure became excruciating.
"Do some push-ups, faggot!" crowed Mike.
"Ya know, you're reading my mind," said Phil, as he grabbed his own dirty boot.
"Shut up and take it, jerkoff," said Mike.
Ben begged with his gaze, looking at George for help, but George only winked.
"You heard him," said George, his gleaming eyes.
Phil held the shoe in the air until he attached the fourth shoe lace to Ben's balls. The grip around his testicles was strong enough to make him burst into tears.
"Let's see if he can handle that," Mike sneered. "Three, two, one..."
When the shoe was released, Ben whimpered like a petrified pig, prompting malicious laughter from all three men. The relentless pressure had pushed his balls to their limit. His arms and legs quivered like jelly.
"Yeah, take it, take it..." said Phil.
"Hold it, hold it," supported George.
"Look at the loser shaking," Mike taunted coldly.
Ben was able to hold it for an entire minute before the weight and humiliation defeated him. He collapsed on the carpet, gasping for air. The man roared with laughter on top of him, assaulting his naked ass with their feet.
Finally, George freed Ben from the shoes and loosened the ropes on his testicles.
"More beer, ASAP, and make us a sandwich," ordered George.
Ben hurried to the kitchen, welcome break to let his compromised balls recover a little.
When he walked in with a tray of beer and three meaty ham sandwiches, the guys had already settled in, shorts off and cocks out, with disgusting porn playing on the TV. It felt like Ben's house had become our man cave.
Mike swung his dirty feet through the air and placed them on the table. "Start rubbing and cleaning," he ordered.
Ben scurried back to the floor and got to work. Mike's feet were extra stinky that day, as if he knew what he was doing. Ben gagged and stuck his tongue between the long hairs, trying to suck up the gross cheese spread between each toe, and felt the massive warm sole pushing into his face.
Phillip also put his enormous feet next to Mike's, and the stench was just as bad. Ben looked up at the man with his mouth hanging open in shock, and they all laughed and high-fived each other. It seemed like they were trying to see who had the smelliest feet.
Ben massaged Phil's callused soles, gagging even more, and tried to clean the cheese spread between every toe.
"So, tell us, buddy, which pair of feet smells the worst?" asked Phil.
"I... I think they're tied," whimpered Ben. "They have equally pungent odors."
"Aww, man, I'll have to avoid wearing socks next week," complained Mike.
"I'll have to avoid washing their feet at all!" jested Phil.
George chuckled.
"You can't compete with me," said George, waving his big dogs in the air. "These things are naturally stinky."
The men relaxed further, beating their dicks in unison to the loud porn on the wall-mounted TV. A chick was being gang-banged roughly on the screen. They guzzled beers, burped, and told silly straight guy jokes. Ben bit his tongue and focused on cleaning the men's stanky feet.
By the end of the session, the soles were fresh and shiny. Ben was almost proud of himself, but he knew the nasty taste would stick to his tongue for hours.
When he thought he'd be able to rest, George waved his massive cock in the air and snapped his fingers.
"Time to suck on this big dick," said George.
"Yeah, this stinky dick's your favorite thing," said Phil, jerking off with aggression.
"Let's gag the fag," suggested Mike.
"Let's fuck his throat," added Phil.
"Guys, feel free to ravage his throat as much as you like," said George, grinning.
Ben crept between George's wide-spread hairy legs and opened his mouth. George took hold of Ben's head with both hands, gripping it firmly, and slammed two-thirds of his fattening tool down Ben's throat.
"Come on, you can take it all. Relax that damned throat..."
Ben took in a deep breath and opened his mouth as wide as he could, making sure not to touch the thick shaft with his teeth. George pushed him down, choking him into a tight grip until his nose rested on the hairy crotch, and he could smell their manly musk.
"Stay still like a good whore," encouraged George, staring at the screen and enjoying himself, thrusting his hips forward, sliding in and out of Ben's mouth like a realistic fleshlight.
Breathing for Ben was almost impossible, as George choked and gagged him for the next ten minutes. They were determined to push his limits and use him for their pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of mouth-fucking.
Ben had a few seconds to catch his breath before Phil grabbed his head some more, and a minute later, he was faced with a fat country cock, his chin resting on big balls, and his mouth making it easier for Phil to fuck him faster.
There wasn't much he could do but stay in the kneeling position and try to breathe for a few merciful seconds between each brutal thrust. Phil pressed his hands tightly on Ben's head. His face was buried in the hairy crotch, and the room was filling with the smell of sweat coming from their balls and armpits.
Despite this, the men were too comfortable to care. They watched a chick being banged hard on the TV, and Phil matched the frantic fucking sounds with his own mouth-fucking motion, making Ben gag and choke.
After a while, Phil told Ben to move toward Mike's hairy thighs, and he was again almost choked by a massive, meaty dick.
Mike was even more brutal, sliding his hips just slightly out of the couch and using the full force of his hulking legs to brutalize Ben's throat. Ben gagged like a desperate animal - drool coming out of his mouth and his face bright red and sweaty. He took almost a full ten minutes of merciless throat bashing.
"Take it, take it, take it..." taunted Mike, his eyes glinting cruelly as he fucked Ben's throat harder and harder.
Ben was passed around the room for the next hour, and each time, the throat bashing became louder and louder. The men were definitely competing against each other to see who could fuck his throat the hardest.
George grunted into Ben's mouth, pounding away with intensity. "No one's ever used your mouth like this!"
This curled Ben's body tighter submissively as he begged with his watery eyes. His dick twitched uncontrollably in the air as the two men fisted him faster. Ben watched the sweat trickling down their hairy chests and bellies, leaving dark stains on their tight tank tops.
George noticed him ogling and shared a smirk with Mike. With a swift movement, George grabbed Ben's hair and dragged his face to his muscular pit.
"Come here, I know you want it," he growled.
The second Ben was there, he lapped at the manly musk, sucking up the drops of sweat. The men guffawed at his response, surprised at his innate craving for their masculine smell.
"He's addicted to that man scent," observed Phil.
"Shut up, slut," snapped Mike.
"Into my pit, slut. Lick that fuckin' sweat," demanded George.
With each arm raised, Ben found his lips parted and insolent tongue suspended. He obeyed, licking every droplet of aromatic sweat from George's sweat-soaked pits. Ben was pushed from George's right pit to his left, encouraged to clean every inch of it like a canine in heat.
Phil bought more attention to Ben's gaze. "How'd they taste, bitch? Nice and salty and sweaty, huh?"
Ben finally made eye contact with Phil with forced lust. Every inch covered in sweat and masculinity.
Mike didn't waste time speaking either. He plucked Ben's head into his right pit. "You can forget sucking my balls—come here, you worthless slime! Lick that fuckin' sweat off my pit like you want it!"
Ben obeyed, tongue fishtailing across the kinky curls on Mike's powerful arms as he hungrily drank their sweet essence.
Mike directed him to Phil's left pit and repeated the urge.
"I need to cum," admitted Phil, focusing on the guys fucking one another in front of him and the porn he was jerking off to.
"You know what to do," advised Mike hoarsely, pushing Ben onto Phil.
Ben hungrily accepted Phil's cock into his mouth. His throat was thrashed out, exposing his raw interior as Phil tore into Ben's throat. Seconds later, Phil's load spilled past his lips and down his throat. The sweet cum was delicious in Ben's mouth.
"Fuck!" he acknowledged.
Mike showed no hesitation. He dragged Ben to his throbbing cock, licking his thunderous cock and calling him a loser as he was at it.
"Filthy gay bitch."
Ben was then pushed onto Mike's left pit, tongue reaching for every droplet. The rough hair scratched Ben's lips and nose as he serviced him.
"Goddamn! I'm fucking close," declared Mike.
Ben remembered the words, rushing to Mike's pit. "Just cum in my mouth! I'll swallow it all!"
Hands shoved Ben's head down deeply and Mike roared into his mouth. Ben immediately accepted his cum-soaked penis, swallowing as if he'd practiced sucking for a lifetime. He then kissed along Mike's legs up to his calves and began worshipping the man's feet with a strong admiration, much to Mike's pleasure.
George watched it all, stroking himself to release. "On your knees like a good pooch."
Ben shook with sweat, glittering along his skin from his forehead to his stained chin. "Now yell you're a cocksucking bitch!"
"I... I'm a cocksucking bitch."
"Louder."
"I'm a cocksucking bitch!"
"You're a dog. Say it again," ordered George.
"I'm a cocksuckin' dog."
"Better. Now call yourself my bitch."
"I'm your bitch, sir."
George spit a wad of phlegm on Ben's forehead. "You're shit, you disgusting fuckwad. Lick it up like you."
Ben whimpered and crawled to it, shoving it into his mouth until it landed on his tongue, rolling it around for a moment before swallowing the erection-laced spit.
Mike also hocked on Ben, barely sparing a glance.
Ben took it, gagging on the loogie, his shaggy hair coated in the nasty liquid.
"This is so old school," mocked Phil.
"Ahh, it feels good."
"Say 'I swallow cock'."
"I swallow cock, sir."
"Good dog. Time for your punishment."
Ben tremble confidently with his tail between his legs. "I love swallowing men's loads."
"Goddamn! Take that!"
"I'm ready for it!"
George grunted once more, indifferent to the fact they were males. "A bit of throat tickling?"
"Yes, sir."
George jerked Ben's head savagely one more time, unleashing a painful eruption. The hit caused a coughing fit, but Ben swallowed the jizz-soaked clump.
"You're a pathetic cocksucker, but you pleasing as hell."
Another moment of rest before Mike grabbed Ben's head and positioned it where he needed him.
"Fucking cunt. Wonder if my cum'll drip out of your throat."
His punishing grip made Ben submit to such violent treatment. Hands held Ben's head steady as the explosions joined in George's semen. Punch after punch, his lips were wrenched over Mike's pit, making Ben gag with the intrusion. A wave of seed drowned Ben's throat, his desperate gulps screaming like a plunger stuck in a sink full of whoring lust. Ben's own drool seeped from his mouth and nuzzled at Mike's balls—the sloppy match before him accentuating George's triumphant, grunting orgy. It finished when Mike's cum spurted back into Ben's mouth, tentatively licking his lips as he swallowed once more. "Thanks!" Ben laughed teasingly.
Mike extended the spell once more and Ben crawled over, embracing his balls as well. He incessantly cleaned every last droplet of sticky cum, thanking Mike.
"That was hot."
With every expectorate, they directed the spit towards his face. George was seated in the center, flanked by Mike on one side, and Phil on the other. The trio vied to land their aim in his eye or on his forehead - each a winning effort would elicit a bonus point.
Ben remained still, enduring their constant barrage. Each saliva hurl, each harangue made his dick more taut than before. George's analysis was spot on - he needed to navigate this absurdity!
"Thank you, mister!" he exclaimed, his frame trembling. "Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!" he repeated frantically, causing his visage to be soaked with spittle.
His erect member began to jerk with eagerness. The climax swept aside any lingering shame, and Ben acknowledged that feeling. He unleashed a shout as his member issued out an ejaculation right before their eyes. They ridiculed his member, roaring. He relished every sensation.
"Guess that's all for today, fella," uttered Phil. He touched his head on Ben's shoulder. "Catch you next Friday, buddy."
"Yeah, I could use a shower," said Mike. He cast a glance at Ben and snickered. "What a wuss," he quipped.
The duo dressed up and strolled out. Ben heard their boisterous chuckles at a distance.
For a short while, George wiped the grin from his face and sat still. Then, he clothed himself.
"Nicely done, Ben," he observed.
"Thank you, sir," the subordinate replied.
As he exited, George blinked in amusement.
Ben remedied his posture and trudged to the restroom for a shower. He rinsed away the grime and dirt, his thoughts abuzz with the bizarre display. A warm, languid feeling flooded him upon washing down. His stony prick remained hard and erect.
Hours later, in bed, his device flickered with a new message.
"All good?" inquired George.
"Yes, everything's fine," responded Ben.
"You're my fav buddy. Sleep well," George reassured.
"Good night," answered Ben.
A bizarre dream awaited Ben that evening. Flaunting a massive expanse of virile musk, he dashed through the sky among the mists. The footfalls of a giant echoed loudly behind the scurrying figure. The more he ran, the smaller he felt. He discerned that he was curtailed by the giant's towering height. He collapsed to the ground, dizzy, and the man-sized feet hovered above. He peeked and found George, a muscular giant standing tall, smirking back at him.
George lifted his formidable right foot, exposing his huge toes, and absorbed Ben between them.
"Come to me, friend. Let me keep you in safe hands."
Ben, now a minuscule, flabby man vulnerable to George's omnipotence, was enveloped in the sweaty skin. He gasped with each step, restrained by George's tremendous strength. The sweat seeping from the perspiring skin softened his resistance, and he relished every touch, feeling weakened and delighted. Pinched between George's toes, Ben was overwhelmed by his power.
George laughed aloud, and the air resonated. He took giant strides, and Ben clutched onto the stalwart feet as he was carried. He clung tighter, bowing to the stronger presence. Stuck between George's toes and embraced in soot, Ben hung on for the mile-long journey. Bathed in the sun's heat and the stench of sweat, Ben's tranquil state grew hushed and deep.
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