As he finishes up his special slave sandwich with my feet propped heavily on his back, I begin to notice a rumbling in my own stomach. Thinking quickly, I remove my feet from the boy’s back, his face still buried in the ground with bits of sandwich all over his lips. “Okay boy, time to service yet another part of master’s stink. Though I’m not sure how much you’ll like this…” I move the boy around, making him sit facing the TV with his head propped back, resting on the edge of the couch, his fac...

As soon as the words left my lips, I felt his nervous gulp reverberate on my feet. “Awww cmon, boy. Don’t you worry,” I reassure him.  “My foot’s not even the smelliest thing that’ll be in your mouth today.” I remove my still-damp soles from his face, releasing him from the air pocket of foot funk for just a second and hover my feet above his face. “You ready, boy?” I ask patiently. Before waiting for a response, I drive my toes downward, prying open his reluctant lips and pushing hard into his ...

I sit there on the couch, hovering my feet inches above his face, gazing down at the boy’s open mouth. His eyes offer a paradox; terrified, and yet so eager. I slowly bring down my feet to his waiting face, the soles quite literally dripping with sweat. The stink is unimaginable from my position; unbearable from his. I gently place both feet over his face, my large size 13’s now engulfing his field of vision. His senses are quickly overtaken by my feet. The smell, the sight, the taste, all pouri...

It’s been almost a half hour now that my boot’s been tied to the boy’s face. I’ve been relaxing, sipping a beer and watching the game, and I know the boy’s suffering. He coughs every once in a while and I can sometimes hear the faint sound of gagging, likely due to the heavy, thick air trapped between the shoe and his nose. I know a significant amount of sweat has dripped into his mouth from the insole. “Good,” I think, “he needs to get accustomed to that.” Finally, after a significantly long co...

I know what he’s doing, sitting on the couch watching TV, checking the clock every 30 seconds. He knows I get off work at 5, and it’s 5:20. I unlock the door and he immediately jumps, shutting off the TV and stripping down to nothing. Bare-assed, he gets on the floor on his knees and assumes the position. I know he’s been waiting for this moment all day, since I’d left this morning and he gave my boots a longing goodbye.   The door opens and he looks up from the ground to see his Master’s per...