Subjugated by Master Christian
Life was pretty great. I had recently moved out of my small suburban neighborhood out of my parents house after years of saving up and landing a job in the area. It took a lot of time, effort, and willpower to save up the money and resist buying other things. But here I was: sitting on the bed in my new apartment, looking out the window overseeing the busy street below. I had always felt more like a city boy in my eyes, the yawning lull of the suburbs often left me to my own devices bored. I was definitely excited to begin life here.
As I continued unpacking the furniture, adjusting the couch this way, that way, debating where to place the bookshelf, whether to have this painting to the left or right of that painting, the day began to unwind, and with it the settling silence in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of several hours ago. With this silence a new feeling began settling within me too, loneliness. I had grown up in the town I had just moved from. Everyone I knew lived there. My two brothers and sister still lived there. Though I was only a few hours away, it felt like a world away in this moment. I paused my unpacking, growing uncomfortably lethargic, and sat on the couch, throwing myself against the cushions and staring at the ceiling. Exhaustion crept up in but a moment, and I was out.
Yawning, I stretched and swung my legs up in the air using the moment on the way down to surge off of the couch in a single bound. I felt more energetic following the night's rest, but I also came to two realizations. One, I was fucking starving. And two, I needed a roommate, and bad. I had seen a bagel place just down the street and after changing my clothes into the first shirt and shorts I grabbed that went together reasonably well, I headed out the door while navigating google trying to figure out how the hell to find roommates.
Obviously, it wasn't like I had been using google very long before I arrived at the bagel spot, but from what my short search enlightened me to was that this would likely be a longer process than I was expecting and with a degree of trial and error as I reached out to random strangers. I sighed, standing in line while trying to come up with a post when the person in front of me turned around after ordering and nearly bumped into me.
"Sorry bro." He apologized before looking me up and down, laughing "Shit man, nice shirt, don't see something like that everyday." I glanced down at my shirt, actual realizing for the first time which tank I had put on. It was a gag shirt my oldest younger brother had got me, it was art work for Lady Gaga's 'Fame Monster' album but in the style of a black sabbath or metalica-esque band. He liked heavy metal while I preferred pop or alternative music, so while it wasn't really in the vain of my interests, I wasn't going to turn down a Lady Gaga shirt. And, I mean, the guy was right, it wasn't something you necessarily see all the time, especially since this specific shirt had been custom made.
"Hey, thanks, yeah my brother got it as a present." I candidly replied.
"He must be the Lady Gaga fan, huh?" He remarked, with a cheeky wit.
Understanding that he must be referring to my rather flamboyant voice and demeanor, I read between the lines of his joke and playfully reassured him, "Of course, was it that obvious that I love death metal and screamo?"
Chuckling at my comment he continued walking from the counter before taking a seat awaiting his order. Now my turn, and attempting to not hold the line up further, I quickly ordered an everything bagel toasted with cream cheese and a black coffee.
After being handed my coffee, I took to waiting by the counter where orders were being placed once completed until a seat opened up conveniently beside the man from earlier. I walked over to the open seated while continuing to ponder over my previous concerns regarding finding a roommate when the man once again interrupted my thoughts.
"Okay, now I definitely wouldn't have taken you for a black coffee kinda guy, this may not be a starbucks with all that frou frou shit, but they have some other pretty good options."
My turn to laugh, I placed my phone down taking another sip and reassured him, honestly this time, "Thanks man, but I actually, genuinely, do like my coffee black. Gotta have something to give me enough energy to keep going. Black's the only thing that'll do it, and now I'm just so used to it that I can't have anything else."
"Ha, whatever you say man," his eyes quickly glancing down at my phone. "You looking for a roommate?"
My heart suddenly skipped a beat, holy shit, was this stranger really about to be someone I met by complete coincidence that would change my life forever? Would we be best friends? My head was reeling, and unintentionally I replied back with insane sass, "No, I just like pretending that I am." IMMEDIATELY regretting the unnecessary sass, I apologized, "shit I'm so sorry, I just do that with my brothers--"
However, before I could fully apologize the man exploded into raucous laughter. "You're a funny dude you know that."
Blushing I answered, "Yes, though, I am looking for a roommate. I just moved in the area, yesterday actually. Was able to get a two-bed two-bath at the Clarion just down the street, but well... I've never lived alone."
"Shit, dude" he replied before rising to get his order, when he returned a few seconds later he continued, "you must be fucking loaded or something to be living there, right? You a trust fund baby or something?"
Now my turn to laugh, I refuted his assertion, "Nahhh, I'm my parents are better off than a lot of people, I guess. But I got this place and everything in it with my own money." This time, I rose from my seat after finishing my thought to get my bagel.
After sitting back down, he confided, "Well shit man, I mean I know you just met me, but I've been looking for a place. My girl and I just broke up. We've been trying to be diplomatic about the place we were living, but we both can't really stand being around one another right now. She left for her parents to get away for a bit, but asked that I try to find a place while she's gone."
"Damn, I totally get it." I comforted him. He stroked his jaw, while I took a few minutes to really contemplate things. I mean, what the hell, we can see where this goes. "Okay, I'll need some things from you, records of where you lived, and if it's okay, I'd honestly like to speak with your ex just to get an idea of what you're like. But I will say, I can be pretty good about telling when someone's just bullshitting me because they don't like the person in question. So I promise if she tries to do that, I won't take her seriously."
With a huge grin on his face, he rose from his seat, "Perfect, dude! Does now work for me to come see the place?" After assenting, we grabbed our food and coffee and left the store to head up to the apartment.
On the way up, he informed me that his name was Christian, or Chris for short, and I told him that mine was Alex. He also provided me with his ex's number. After reaching the 7th floor, we walked down to the end of the long hallway as I removed the keys from my pocket and began unlocking the door.
"Here we are!" I announced, entering the apartment.
After taking in the view, all I heard was "Ho-ly shit, dude. Are you sure you're not loaded?"
"I most certainly am not, but I guess my job is pretty well paying." I chuckled.
"What do you do?" He asked, now likely curious given I was affording this on my own.
"Cyber security," I answered to which he rolled his eyes dramatically. Scoffing, I questioned him, "what was that look for?"
"Come on man, it's like every rich gay dude works in cyber security."
My heart stopped when he said that, I had never said I was gay. I mean I am, but I was shocked he was confident enough in knowing my sexuality to say that... or ignorant enough.
Seeming to read my feelings, he nonchalantly brushed it off, "Sorry dude, I would be able to tell from a mile away. I was just callin' it like I see it, nothing wrong with that."
Well at least he seemingly wasn't a homophobe. "So what do you do then? Lift weights?" I tried to offer as a snarky come back.
Chuckling he asked, "Is that what straight dudes get stereotyped as? I guess it ain't so bad. You're pretty close but just shy of the money shot. Physical trainer." With that he lifted his arms flexing them and his back in a pose meant to show off his physique.
I rolled my eyes this time, but also turned away to hopefully avoid him seeing my face clearly flush with embarrassment. Fuck he was really hot.
"Anyway, you can try hitting up my ex, she should be up now. Mind if I take a look around a little on my own."
"Of course," I replied while beginning to dial up his ex.
True to his expectation she answered the phone, and in a really bitchy manner she demanded to know who was calling her. God, I can see why he broke up with her, I thought. However, despite her initial bitchiness, after understanding the situation her tone drastically changed.
"Oh, yeah," she replied, "you have nothing to worry about. He's not a jackass, just a dumbass. He'll listen to house rules, for the most part. He won't miss rent, I can tell you that. And since you're a guy, I mean you probably won't mind it as much, but he has a tendency to leave his clothes everywhere, that was one thing I couldn't stand. He was literally clean with everything else. He would rinse dishes and put them in the dishwasher, make sure he didn't track dirt in, wouldn't leave trash around the place. But when it came to his clothes, that pig just wouldn't get it through his head." She sighed, before adding one final thing, "oh, and since he's single, I'm sure he's gonna try to be bagging chicks left and right every chance he gets, so have fun with that. But really, he's not a bad guy, we just weren't good for each other. I'm my own person, I have my own shit I want to do. I wasn't there to be his little maid and fucktoy you know. Maybe someone else is fine with that, just not me." Oh honey, you sure know how to talk this bitches ear off. But I got the gist of it. I thanked her and hung up.
Just as I got off the phone, Chris turned the corner with a smirk on his face and inquired, "so what's the verdict?"
"Weeeeeeell, your ex said you're a pig, but otherwise you're nice."
Howling in laughter at that, he quipped, "and she's a bitch, but otherwise nice!" After calming down from his laughter, he admitted, "yeah I wasn't always the best, but I'll try to be better man." He patted me on the shoulder, and I swear I nearly melted into a puddle as he looked into my eyes. "I'll definitely try."
Trying to hold myself together, I gulped hard and squeaked out, "And that's all I could ask of you... roomie."
Patting me on the back, practically knocking all the breath out of my chest, he thanked me profusely before we really began to hammer out the details.
The following weekend after we first met, Christian had moved in. The leasing office at his prior apartment had assured both me and the leasing office here that they has never received any complaints about him and that he had never missed any payments. The week leading up to things was super hectic for me, given this was a new job, although our work can be completed remotely, they wanted me to come in for the first three weeks for training and to get accustomed to everything. Even after he had arrived, although we had hung out, there wasn't nearly as much interaction between us as we would both come home exhausted from our jobs. Chris worked the first half of the week, but then seemed to have off Thursday and Friday, unlike me. However to make up for it, he seemed to work most Saturdays and Sundays with weekend clients. This meant that even on the following weekend after he moved in, we didn't see much of each other.
That Sunday evening, finally beginning to feel a little in my element at work, despite how much was asked of me, and in my new home, I went grocery shopping and planned to make a dinner tonight. Figured I could treat Christian given I kinda neglected him the rest of the week after he had just moved in, and if he didn't want or like my lasagna, well that just left more for me!
After getting home and getting to work, I found myself bored and alone as I sat waiting for the lasagna to bake.
I noticed that true to his Exâs word, he had been leaving clothes scattered about. With some time to kill, I rolled my eyes and got to picking up after him. For the most part it was a lot of shirts and pants, and many, many socks. Going around actually attending to the mess brought to my attention how it actually affected my environment. Namely, despite not noticing before, it was hard not to be aware of the⊠scent⊠his socks had as I picked them up. It was earthy and wet, something that really made my nose scrunch. But I simply sighed, held my breath as best I could, and continued picking up the clothes until everything in the shared living quarters was cleared.
However, when I first stepped into his room, I realized the extent of how messy he could be. Clothes practically covered the entire floor. After putting the dirty clothes from outside his room in his hamper, I was preparing to clean up his room as well. I did have quite a bit of time, after all. As I reached down to grab something, I quickly realized he kept some other pieces of clothing littered here.
Turning my eyes down to my hands, I saw the thing I picked up was a pair of boxers. Initially, I was a little grossed out. But then thinking about who these belonged to⊠well, Christian was pretty fucking hot. I definitely would not have minded seeing what these boxers covered up.
In the back of my mind, I noticed a squirming little urge. A little voice back there saying that I could bring the boxers to my face, take a sniff. It felt wrong, but damn if I didnât love dick. Slowly my hands rose to my face and just as they got into proximity to smell, I heard the front door open. My face went flush as I quickly threw the boxers into the hamper and scurried out of his room.
I was worried about what heâd say if he saw me coming out of his room, but thankfully Christian took that need right out of my hands.
âWhoa⊠Dude, you really tidied up the place. Nice!â He chuckled, taking in the sight. âShit, you can do my room if you want!"
My face still burning a little, I started mumbling out a response. âWell, um, yeah thanks. I donât, I mean, maybe I shouldnât. Itâs okay, umâŠâ But barely paying attention to a word I said, Christian just asserted further.
âNo really, itâd be awesome if you cleaned up my room. Why don't you do that.â
Nervous, but not wanting to elicit more suspicion, I readily agreed. Besides, I rationalized in my head, looking at the oven timer, I still had another 20 minutes before dinner would be ready. I let Christian know about dinner and headed back into his room as he sat on the couch, kicking his feet up, and put on a game to play.
As I crept back into his room, I tried to focus just on cleaning up the floor as best I could, but that little voice was still in the back of my mind the entire time. After cleaning up most of the clothes, as the timer for the food approached its end, I went out and looked over at him. He was still sitting on the couch fully absorbed in his game. I walked back into his room and there around what little clothes remained was a pair of boxers. I hastily picked them up and giving in to my urges, I once again brought them to my face.
I took a deep breath and felt my eyes roll to the back of my head. I was met with the most manly, musky crotch smell. I couldnât help myself and kept inhaling. As I did, I noticed there was something else mixed in there. I breathed in as I tried to figure out what it was. It was a more pungent odor and slightly cheesy, but mixed with the smell of his dick, it wasnât so bad. Finally pulling the underwear away from my face, I flipped it around and looked inside and noticed tucked into the inside of the crotch area was a lone sock.
I felt my stomach flip thinking about smelling his stinking sock and grimaced. Quickly, I grabbed up the last of the clothes just as the timer went off and hurried back into the kitchen.
The dinner went well. Chris really enjoyed the food and was super happy with the job Iâd done in his room. I definitely didnât want it to become a recurring event, but it felt nice to hear him praise me.
We spent the rest of the night gaming in the living room, him on the TV with his PS5 and me on my switch. It was really chill and helped to take my mind off of what happened in his room, though I felt pretty guilty smelling his used clothes behind his back.
As the following week started up, my work responsibilities became greater and greater. I was so exhausted after work that I simply went to my room and fell asleep most days. This went on for a few weeks, and due to errands and other responsibilities, even on my days off I was often pretty busy.
Finally, on my first Saturday off, I had some time to myself. After weeks of doing the bare minimum, the place had gone back to being covered in Christianâs clothes. Against my better judgment, I once again spent some time picking up after him, both outside and inside his room. Just as I finished and was sitting down on the couch, he came sauntering in.
âWhew, shit am I glad to be off early. Have I ever told you how crazy this client is?!â He asked rhetorically. âI am exhausted, sometimes feels like theyâre working ME out?â He laughed, taking a seat beside me.
I quietly just sat next to him listening.
âFuck, you did a nice job here. We really should have you doing that more often, right?â He laughed, though I couldnât tell if he was joking or not.
âNow, since youâve had the day off and are nice and rested, why don't you make yourself useful some more. My feet need a footrest."
I felt this strange feeling in my chest as he said that and just stared at him like he was crazy. What the hell is he talking about? After a minute, he spoke up again.
âFine, Iâll do some of the work for you,â he said as he pushed the coffee table aside. âNow I need a nice soft, but solid footrest, so get down on your hands and knees."
I wanted to tell him he was crazy when all of a sudden that feeling in my chest grew more intense and my body moved on it's own. My knees slammed to the ground in front of him and my back stretched flat.
"Wh-what the hell are you doing?" I cried out.
"Nothing," he replied casually. "Your body's moving all on it's own. It just knows what it wants more than that brain of yours does."
He was fucking with me. He had to be fucking with me. I don't know how, but he was somehow controlling me. he had to be.
My head was forced down and my eyes stared into the ground. I heard him slip off his shoes and was met with the most repulsive smell.
"Chris, what the hell did you do to your feet?!" I blurted out.
I suddenly felt him jam one foot into the side of my face. Now I knew part of the reason it reeked so bad. He'd worn his shoes sockless. The repugnant scent only grew stronger so close to my face, making me feel sick to my stomach.
"Didn't I tell you to call me, Sir, boy. You will call me Sir." He jeered, grinding the foot in further.
Like hell I'd do that. I opened my mouth again to speak, and give him a piece of my mind. "I'm sorry, Sir. Please, punish me accordingly for my mistake, Sir." What the fuck just came out of my mouth?!
"Yeah, that's much better." He sighed, contentedly, pushing his foot against my face, knocking it to the side before finally lifting both his legs and dropping them onto my back. From the sound of it, he then turned the TV on to a football game.
I groaned underneath the pressure, yet strangely did not feel an impact to my actual ability in being his foot rest. Though certainly internally feeling the pressure, my body remained steady, no matter how I tried to move it. This only further cemented that something must be going on.
My blood was boiling. Chris had been tolerable up until this point, but this was too much. I thought back to running into him, how attractive I found him, and regretted ever meeting this sick fuck. Without much control I opened my mouth to speak once more.
"Thank you for allowing me to serve you, Sir. It's what a weak little fag like me was made for." My face burned red hot. I can't say anything anymore. Not even the words I said were in my control.
Barely paying attention to me, Chris just crossed his legs, shifting his weight on my back and grunted out, "Yeah, I know."
I say all that and that's the response I get? No... I wanted to shake my head. I understood where that thought came from, clearly whatever he was doing to me was making me grovel pathetically, and I can understand how anyone would feel dejected after that. But that's not the point. That's not what I even wanted to say. I had to bite the urge to say anything further, resulting in me stewing silently beneath his feet. I'm sure he was more than pleased with this as it allowed him to focus on the game without disturbance.
I became lost in my thoughts. If I couldn't move my own body, would I ever be able to get away? Was this just my life from now on? Previously I would have thought a life with Chris would have been great, but I was a clean, pretty vanilla guy. I liked dick in my mouth, in my ass. I liked being rimmed, maybe some nipple play, but like that's it. Sex is already great, you don't have to reinvent the wheel. Now I was stuck here, on my knees, serving as his foot rest. The antithesis of everything that turned me on.
Another thought that came through my head as I sat there contemplating things was the conversation with his ex. So much for not being a jackass! Had he never done this shit with her then? She was true to her word that other than leaving his clothes around he kept things mostly clean. But with the way his cheesy feet turned my stomach, they for sure were not clean.
So did he not do this to his ex? Or did he, and he made it so she couldn't remember? If he did, why did he leave, and why now do it with a guy? Did he get off on seeing a guy be beneath him, groveling?Although sometimes faltering in the face of a hot guy, I tended to always be a very proud and determined guy, I would not stand to be treated like this.
Soon I was no longer combing through my thoughts but actively battling against parts of myself. I couldn't lash out at him. Literally, I could not. He would just turn it into praise and adoration. I had to figure out a way to beat him at his own game.
Silently I kneeled there. When I first got in this position it sounded like the start of the football game and though I tuned out for most of it, I could hear that the game had come to a close. It must have been around three hours that I was on my knees with his feet on my back. Though I certainly could feel the weight, I felt relief at the back of my mind that at least whatever was causing this seemed to reinforce my body and it wasn't crying out aching after all this.
I finally felt him lift his legs and feet from my back, but continued to feel stuck in place. I heard him put on his slippers and walk away, into the bathroom to take a piss. As I continued to kneel there I did my best to convince myself everything was okay, he'd probably have me get up and then I could bolt for the door. No-- if I tried to run, he'd probably stop me. I'd have to act like everything was normal, forgive him, at least until he either fell asleep, left, or was so pre-occupied in something that I could sneak out.
With my mind made up, he slowly shuffled back, sitting on the couch once again. He lifted one of his feet and nudged it against my side to move me. For the first time in hours, I felt my body move to the side.
"Move the coffee table back over." He ordered. Quietly, I moved it just as he said and watched him grab a pillow, plopping his huge bare feet onto it.
"You did a good job as my foot stool. You've earned a reward." He praised me. "I was going to have you massage my feet-- which you still are-- but first, you can give them a few kisses, even lick the soles and in between my toes. I'm nothing if not generous to a good boy." I felt my heart drop as he spoke these words. Generous?! The thought of licking his feet made me want to vomit. Just how sick was he?
My mind reeling from this thought, I made a realization: I didn't move. I looked up at him and he nodded, presumably acknowledging this realization. I felt my body nearly jump from my skin from the urge to run. It took all my willpower not to. This must be a trap, I thought. Maybe he somehow knew I was planning to escape, and he wanted to test me. Watch me make a run for it before forcing me to stop and turn back and submit to him anyway.
My own thoughts echoed in my head. I had to beat him at his own game. With that thought in my head, kneeling upright before his feet, I took a deep breath, praying it would help to keep my stomach stable, and I leaned forward.
My first thought as my face came into contact with his feet was how warm they were. It was relatively warm in the apartment, but it must have been from recently using the slippers. This thought, though unsettling from being about his feet, was not the worst thought in the world. But my next thought, as I breathed in the sweaty stench from the source, was just how awful, toxic almost, that smell was. I felt myself gag and begged my body to keep itself together. I have to do this. I told myself again and again. I don't have a choice.
Steeling my resolve, slowly I extended my tongue and felt the soft flesh embrace it. Immediately I was met with the sour taste of his sweat. C'mon, Alex, you can do this, I thought. Most things lose flavor as you lick them, just treat it like that, every time you lick his feet, it'll get better, easier... no, no, don't frame it that way... it'll be less terrible. You just have to endure it for a little longer.
Trying my best to limit my suffering, I began lapping all over his soles. As I ran along the inside of the arch, I heard him let out a deep sigh of relief as he got more comfortable, shoving his feet further into my face. His enjoyment served to reignite some of my anger; I can't believe I'm making this fucker feel good while he's making me suffer so much! I had to visualize physically restraining myself, my anger, and tying it down in an effort to control it. Somehow it worked and I don't even think I visually demonstrated any signs. Not that he was paying attention, leaning back with his eyes closed and hands behind his head. I did what I could, to focus on his feet, as gross as they were, and get rid of as much sweat as I could.
Eventually, I felt him lightly tap my cheek with the foot I wasn't currently licking and I moved back. I couldn't bring myself to look at him.
Despite this, I could tell his eyes were boring into me, almost into my soul, as he spoke, "Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. I'm sure you did, good boys like you love that shit." I tried not to let his praise get to me, it doesn't matter how much he enjoyed it or how much he tried to make me feel good about it or myself, I wouldn't let that break my will. "Now's about time for a massage. I let you lick a little bit longer, so this'll be a shorter one. We can just go for the next 30 minutes, all right, boy? Get to it."
Wordlessly, I place my hands against the feet I had been licking but a few seconds ago and began massaging as best I could, trying to pretend as though everything was fine.
30 minutes passed in the blink of an eye. I guess I was so mentally worn out, I didn't realize how exhausted I was becoming. I had been working my hands mindlessly when suddenly he was the one to pull away. I sighed and averted my eyes as he rose from the couch once more, walking beside me.
"Boy," He spoke. Although I didn't want to, I felt compelled and slowly brought my head up and looked at him, into his eyes. The deep blue eyes I felt almost pulling me out of my body. "You did such a good job today, boy. I'm so proud of you." Once again, I felt resistance to his words attempt to swell in my chest, fighting a failing battle against my exhaustion. "You deserve to rest," he continued as he softly caressed my head, "rest, and let go of any of your worries. Forget whatever is troubling you and remember that you can always rely on me, you take care of me and I will take care of you." As he spoke I felt my eyes grow heavy, heavier, and suddenly, without warning, I collapsed against his legs.
I awoke suddenly, out of the cold dreamless sleep, and found myself in my bed. I had a splitting headache and couldnât remember what the hell happened before I knocked out. I tried to recall and could vaguely piece together getting out of bed, making breakfast, and tidying the place up again, but after that it was all blank.
I shook my head and checked my phone. It was 5:51 AM Sunday. Shit. I donât know when I went to sleep, but if it was at my normal time around 11 PM, then Iâm missing over 12 hours in my memory⊠Though, gauging by how rested I felt, I was a little skeptical of whether I was awake for that long.
I rose out of bed and meandered about the living room and kitchen, quietly making food and watching something on the TV. After a few hours, I heard the door to Christiansâ room open up and he shuffled his way out.
âWhatâs up, bro?â He yawned, stretching and scratching his furry belly that was slightly exposed. I almost got distracted by the sight of his body, but forced myself to stay focused.
âGood morning.â I greeted him. âHey, do you know what happened yesterday? I canât remember anything after cleaning up the place a littleâŠ"
âYou did a great job, by the way, bro. I fucking love when you do that, so fuckinâ useful.â He praised me, though something in my stomach flipped hearing his praise.
After a pause where he didnât continue, I pressed further, âYeah, but what happened after thatâŠ"
âWe just chilled. I helped you finally relax, you looked fuckinâ exhausted from your work, and before we knew it you were out like a light."
I had been pretty exhausted from work⊠I opened my mouth to try and dig a little deeper, but he continued on. âYeah, you seemed real relaxed afterward. So glad I could help. Heh, you helped me to relax too though. So it was a win-win. Definitely something I wouldnât mind doing again."
Well now I was even more curious. I helped him relax as well? Once again, I started to open my mouth when he just kept talking before I could. âIâm gonna head to the gym for work,â he explained, eating some food leftover from what Iâd made this morning. âI end early again today, lots of clients away for the summer. Itâs a bummer, but also kinda nice. Maybe we can hang again this afternoon. Have some more fun."
With that, he was out the door before I could get a word in edgewise. âSome funâ? What the hell did that mean? My thoughts immediately went to his thick cock. My lips did feel a little sore⊠But thereâs no way. I almost laughed at the thought, though I was drooling a little bit imagining getting to suck Christianâs cock and make him feel good.
Strange, though I knew giving head made someone feel good, I had never been quite so focused on that before. Normally I just enjoyed the act of sex. I liked giving head because I enjoyed it, yet now the most tantalizing part was imagining him with his head back enjoying the experience. I shuffled around cleaning up the dishes before sitting down and trying to relax and take my mind off of things.
However, despite my best efforts, after several hours of trying to distract myself, all I could think about was what the hell happened yesterday. I thought back to what Iâd done and an idea came into my head.
Slowly, I rose up and walked around the apartment. Just like when I cleaned up his clothes. I then ambled into his room and looked around. I could vaguely remember his clothes strewn about the previous day. Suddenly his voice echoed through my mind. 'We really should have you doing that more often, right?â I shuddered as something that felt beyond my memories came into grasp. I stared at his hamper before slowly making my way to it. Mindlessly, I began rooting through it until I touched something and a part of my mind lit up. I moved my hand around until I grabbed the soft fabric and pulled it out.
In my hand lay one of his dirty socks. My eyes rested on it quizzically for a few minutes as something lie just out of reach in my mind. Then all at once I dropped the sock and made my way out of his room. My body moved on its own until I stood before couch. I shifted the coffee table out of the way and dropped to my knees. This whole time my head was pounding. But as I kneeled there something happened. It happened within a second, I was confused and lost in one moment and the next scenes flashed before my eyes as if they were events that happened to someone else as I watched.
I saw myself on my hands and knees, Christianâs big feet on my back. Then I saw his feet on swallowing my face, and could almost feel the heat and moisture from being underneath them. I could actually feel my tongue running along the bottoms and the taste of his dirty, sweaty soles spreading across it.
My heart began racing and my breathing picked up. I was losing it. What the hell. What the actual fuck. How could I forget all that? It was him⊠Thatâs right, he somehow controlled me. Of course he could probably get me to forget what happened. I slowed my breathing to try and calm me down. I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do. Run away? Call the cops? I needed to do something. At the very least, I needed to get away.
Just as I had that thought, I heard the front door open. My heart sank and I could feel my body tense up and freeze. There would be no way to get out now, I thought as I watched him enter.
âHey! Perfect! Youâre already in position!â He chuckled to himself. âYou can remember now. Thatâs awesome, I need to relax, bro."
As he spoke, at some point it felt like the flood gates of memories opened even wider. I could remember every second of being down on the floor beneath him. And here I was again, kneeling before him as he sat down and kicked off his shoes, revealing his bare feet.
I was freaking out and still felt like I couldnât move. You have to calm down, I thought to myself. You can get out of this, but you have to get through this now. You have no idea what he can do, so you have to go along with whatever he would want.
He scooched the table back over as he plopped his feet down on top of it. His big, sweaty, stinky feet stood before me once again. They were disgusting after being in his shoes sockless. But I knew what I had to do. No matter what I had to act like I was playing in the palm of his hand. Looking up between those towering soles, I gazed into his eyes and unhesitatingly pleaded, âSir, may I please kiss and lick your feet? Iâm so hungry for it. I need your strong feet, Sir, I need to be beneath you.â
He put his hands behind his head and gave a quizzical look as his kind of joke. âYou want to lick my feet? They kinda smell though, donât they boy?â
âTh-thatâs why I want them, Sir. They smell because youâve worked hard⊠and⊠and a weak, pathetic boy like me craves to be beneath such powerful feet; to breathe in and taste your sweaty feet is the closest I can be to being a real man like you.â As I said this, I knew he would love it. After yesterday, and remembering how he behaved, I think Iâd begun to understand Christianâs psychology, and was now not only pretending to play in the palm of his hand, but working to be dancing in it.
âWow, now that⊠thatâs some real faggot shit right there,â I braced myself as he proudly attempted to grind my ego to the ground. He lifted a foot and playfully slapped it against my cheek. A light âschlopâ-ing sound could be heard as the sweat clung to my skin. Not missing a beat, I began to lovingly rub my face into the soles. Overwhelmed by the wretched scent, but doing everything I could to keep it together. He has to believe you love this, so love it; do everything you can to show you love it, I thought to myself.
âAll right, since youâve been a real good boy, youâve earned a reward.â My stomach flipped at the word ârewardâ and though he had not a hint of malice in his eyes or the growing smirk on his face, I was dreading what was to come.
He rose from his seat and walked over to the kitchen, grabbing something out of one of the cabinets.
âClose your eyes, boy, letâs make this a true surprise. You wonât know whatâs happening until I tell you to open your eyes again.â
I wasnât sure what he meant by the last part of the statement at first, but I hesitatingly closed my eyes as he commanded. After a second or two when he walked back I realized that last statement⊠it was somehow like the other days. It somehow had the power to warp reality, or warp my reality at least. Once he sat back down, I couldnât hear or feel anything. It was like my body was completely free of sensation.
On one hand, this control he had greatly frightened me⊠and on the other, it felt strangely nice to be freed of all sensation. Itâs like what some people say⊠thereâs a sort of freedom in absence. So without realizing, I began to find it incredibly easy to keep my eyes closed. That, however, did not last.
âGood boy,â his voice cut through the silence like a 1,000 degree knife through butter. âOpen your eyes and enjoy the first part of your gift.â
Though reluctant, I obeyed and slowly opened my eyes. At first I was confused, but quickly realizing that the soft pink that engulfed my vision was the bottoms of his feet.
Caught off guard, I took a shaky deep breath in and was meant with an overwhelming, dizzying, damp musky scent. I had thought kneeling beside his feet before gave me an idea of the smell, but now it was all I could breathe⊠Thatâs when I realized how true that thought was. My mouth had been duct taped shut. Not only that but he managed to move me flat on the ground⊠whatever he could do to me was that powerful?! This was crazy. I thought he could control me before, but this was something else. I was like an ant at the mercy of a god⊠A godâŠ?
I couldnât speak, but I had been slightly wriggling around, which only really had the effect of further burying my face into his sweaty feet. However, it appeared he picked up on my confusion.
âRelax, boy. This is the first part of your reward. I want you to enjoy it. Take nice deep breaths and just relax underneath my feet.â Again, it was strange. He said all this, from what I could tell, without a hint of contempt or malice. He really wanted me to enjoy this. Why? Why would I enjoy this? Why does he think I would enjoy this? I donât⊠right?
âI know workâs been stressful lately. But now you can just lie down with your little head on that pillow, enjoy my nice, big feet, and relax.â
I hated that what he said made sense. Work had been stressful this week. All week I could barely focus, and there was so much to do that I could never catch up⊠All I had wanted to do was be able to just stop and relax. I didnât want to be here, I wanted to report him and get away⊠But more than that, I wanted to relax. and I DESERVED to get to just relax.
At least he was nice and put a pillow down here. It did add at least some comfort to this situation. Though I was annoyed that he said I should relax considering the context, he was right. I would never get through these moments if I didnât.
I closed my eyes, and tried to focus on something, anything, but couldnât. After a minute I opened my eyes, and was greeted by the huge soles I was forced to breathe in stretching across my face again.
He then shifted and moved his right foot back some so the arch was resting on my forehead and his toes hung over my nose. Finally, my view wasnât obscured. Though there still wasnât much to see.
Mindlessly, my eyes drifted along the sides of his sole slowly gliding up toward the toes. They traced along the curves in his toes, winding around to the bottom of the big toe, where my view became obscured by his other foot. Without pause, my eyes then traced back around his toes. Again and again.
It was strange, but I began to lose myself in this process. With my brain thoughtlessly preoccupied, I began to finally, actually relax. Though not conscious of it, the smell of his feet bothered me less and less despite remaining as strong and pungent. I took deep breaths in⊠and out. Over and over. Just allowing myself to finally let go and start to relax.
Time began to blur until, chuckling, he removed his feet from my view for a second. I could not explain it, but for some reason my heart sank when he did that. Not because I was worried about what he was doing, butâŠ
Interrupting my thoughts, he said a quick, âSorry âbout this!â And before I could react, ripped the duct tape off my mouth.
I groaned in pain as he placed his warm feet back over my face, looking down at me.
âYou were just tickling me too damn much before, boy,â he laughed, âThought maybe removing the tape would help, and we could start the second part of this reward.â As he said that he leaned back and resumed what he was doing, likely playing a game, I now realized. âYou can start licking, whenever you want. Youâve earned licking these boys âtill theyâre spotless. Iâll let ya know when youâve done a good job.â
Once more his feet totally engulfed me. I didnât have a distraction this time and was left only staring at the shadowy pink fleshy soles above me. It may be weird, I mean his feet were supposedly grossing me out, but it had been so nice losing myself in the outline of his toes and arch. It felt like I learned every crevice and wrinkle along that part of his right foot.
And now I couldnât distract myself, I was confronted with his feet again. I know I had done this before, but I didnât know if I had the will to do it again. It had been so bad, so painful before, forcing myself to lick his feet.
In my distress, I began breathing heavily, switching between my mouth and nose, and inadvertently causing my face to get hotter and hotter. It was like a sauna beneath his soles. And as they absorbed the heat it only became hotter. Worst of all, I could begin to feel new sweat lining the bottom of his feet where they pressed into my face. I was only making this worse for myself, but still I couldnât find the strength to resist and pretend to do what he said.
Within the back of my mind, a part of me I wanted to ignore, acknowledged this would all be easier if he just commanded me to lick his feet. I⊠didnât think he had. But maybe thatâs why I felt so bad? Maybe because I was resisting. I didnât know. This was all so confusing.
As I laid there struggling, eventually I felt something drip into my mouth. Instinctively, I swallowed it before realizing it was likely sweat from his feet. A wave of disgust washed over me before⊠dying down. The taste, it wasnât that bad. It really wasnât gross at all. It tasted⊠fine.
I had been resisting and dreading it because of how gross I thought it had been, but maybe it would be easier to do this than I thought. He must be commanding me and thatâs why I feel so bad, I thought to myself. So just go along with it and youâll get it over with.
Slowly, I opened my mouth more and before I knew it, I felt the warm, salty flesh against my tongue. Quickly I retracted my tongue, and the flavor swirled throughout my mouth. It⊠it⊠was fine. It tasted fine. It was even good⊠I mean I like salty things, so that had to be reason why. Not because it actually tasted good. All I had to do was stop resisting.
I let out a quiet, muffled chuckle and began licking along the arch of his feet, running my tongue up and down, across the soft, warm wrinkles.
Sighing, I closed my eyes, and similar to when I traced the outline of his arch and toes with my eyes, I began to do the same with my tongue along the inside of his arch. Once again, I felt my body relax. It made sense, he had commanded me to lick his feet. Of course obeying would make me feel better. If this is what it would take to get through it⊠maybe even make it⊠enjoyable. Then I would just let it happen. I could resist him later.
After a few minutes, I could feel him move the left foot I had been licking to bring me up along the ball of the foot and under the toes. With new area to cover, my tongue began curiously exploring. The ball was rougher and the taste a little more sour, but still not bad. It was fine⊠good. And as I moved my tongue gliding under the toes the taste became saltier. I found my tongue staying around there more. Without thinking, sliding itself between his toes and unknowingly cleaning out the toe jam from his shoes. In my relaxed state, I found I didnât mind this⊠at all. Though thatâs nonsense? Thatâs your controlled thoughts telling you that. Donât read too much into it, my inner thoughts fought back.
Eventually he moved to his left heel which was similarly more sour like the balls of his feet and after licking it clean, he switched to his right foot. I had already been licking so much, and yet there was still more I got to do. Without hesitation, my tongue dove back in, exploring the new foot, all of its nooks, and its similar flavor I felt safe in.
After finishing licking both feet, he leaned back over and grinned down at me.
âHaving a good time?â
I knew I had to cater to his whims, I mean, I knew that, but without thinking it, I muttered out a sheepish, ây-yes⊠s-sirâŠâ
âGood, youâve been real good today.â He beamed as he said this, and added, âI saved the best for last. Iâm almost done with this area, so while I finish up, you can suck on my toes. Sound good, boy?â
I was starting to squeak out a quiet âmhmâ though without waiting, he brought his arches resting on my forehead leaning forward so his toes were pressing against my lips.
Giving myself permission to once again obey him since he must have commanded me to do it anyway, I began opened my mouth and his toes instantly popped in.
A smile crept across my face as I tasted the same salty flavor as when licking under and between his toes, only even stronger now as I fully sucked on them. I shuddered at the intensity of the taste. I knew he must be making me think this taste good, but damn, he was good at it.
He really was kind of like a god⊠I mean, he could make me enjoy anything. Life would probably be so easy if I just let him take control. I knew this thought was dangerous⊠but I mean, this dude had me licking his feet and sucking his toes because he could make me do whatever he wanted and he could make me like it! That kind of power is unbelievable. In a way, like, thank god he was making me lick his feet, sweaty or whatever, it was better than something else he could make me do, and I was able to enjoy it.
I think finally fully relaxing and having a calm moment made me realize how out of depth I was thinking before. Reporting him to the police would be dumb; it just wouldnât work. Iâd have to suddenly leave, possibly leaving behind everything. Thatâs the only way I could get away. But was that worth itâŠ? It had to be, youâre only questioning it because heâs making you feel good about this. You wouldnât be enjoying his feet otherwise. You have to get out of here at some point.
Despite having these thoughts trying to balance things, I had to be mindful that my whole life was here. My apartment, all my belongings. If I stayed in the area, he could always run into. Iâd have to leave the city, this job. That was all too much. Was any of that really worth getting away from Christian so I wouldnât have to lick his sweaty feet and toes while he helps me to enjoy it?
As these thoughts swam around in my head, I must have finished licking Chrisâ toes to his satisfaction as he withdrew them from my mouth.
âGreat job, bud.â He beamed slapping my face a few times with his feet. "Itâs been a good two hours, and I still have a few errands to run this evening, so Iâm gonna head back out. Why donât you make us some dinner for tonight, maybe I can give you dessert after.â As he finished, though my thoughts initially were that heâd want to have me down at his feet again, as he got up, he grabbed and shook his junk in my face and winked at me. âEveryone loves a happy ending. It'd be a great cap to this perfect day, donâtcha think?â
I silently nodded while crawling to sit up. After sliding on his flip flops and grabbing his keys, he was out the door. Left alone, my heart raced as I had to make a decision on what the hell I was supposed to do.
Hope you all enjoyed the story. This was another one Iâd started like a year ago and never got to finishing. A little bit of dabbling into mind control. Thatâs a theme I have quite in quite a few unfinished stories. Definitely something I find hot and want to explore more, though I sometimes find it difficult to know where to go or how to add fun layers with it in mind. But I know where Iâm taking this and plan to have a second part that will cap everything off. Iâll work on that as I work on the third part of the stepdad story and some other WIPâs I have.
Iâve received a few suggestions on story ideas and plan to turn some into something. But I always love hearing what my audience likes to read and what they might want from me, so please feel free to message me any ideas you have or themes you enjoy! I love connecting and talking with people and sharing in the love of sexy, sweaty, and stinky manly feet! (:
