Foot fetish Stories - Sexually Explicit

I'd been working as a night janitor at an all girl four-year business school. This was a job any footman would love.There were always plenty of pretty feet to see, both with and without shoes. 

I had ample opportunity to stand and stare and drool over them without making my desire for obvious.

I had the run of the school from six PM until the early hours of the morning. I was alone and I carried a beeper. Should any accidental mishaps occur, such as a spill or a leak, my pager would alert me and I'd respond. Usually it was a late night cram session where the girls would be group studying over pizza and cokes and someone would start horsing around and then spill the drinks. No biggie! I'd come around with a mop and my bucket and wipe it up. I am supposed to report horseplay but heck, most of these women are just trying to better themselves and I don't want to get anyone in any trouble with the dean.

One night my beeper went off, I called the number and a woman was crying. She coughed out that she was in the study room in the back of the school and there was an accident and she needed my help to clean up a big mess. Usually only one or two women use that particular study room since it is secluded and often colder with less furniture. I only cleaned back there once or twice a week so it surprised me to hear about any large mess. Also since she sounded so upset I figured I'd hurry on up there to check it out.

When I got to the room I saw here. It was a second year student named Jennifer Dowden. She was 25, had below the shoulder length brown hair, a pretty face with an athletic body. I'd been eyeing her since she started here. She would hardly be without fashionable footwear, which usually matched her outfits. When she stepped out, either for a date or just to go shopping, she was always coordinated from head to toe. I was shocked now to see her crouched up in a ball hugging her knees to her chest crying. She had on a plain white Tee shirt, sweat pants and was bare footed. Her hair was a mess, wet and hanging strewed all over the place. Her makeup was ruined with tears. Visible bruises were on her cheeks. Someone had attacked her.The room was truly a mess. There was half eaten pizza smeared on the walls. Popcorn and potato chips mashed into the floor. Soda had been dumped all over the place, on the desk, tables, and chairs and floor. Then I saw one white tennis shoe, Jennifer's, sticking out of a trash can with pizza stains and soda stains all over it.

I dropped my cleaning things and walked through the mess to stand before the sobbing woman. She was still holding the telephone receiver in her shaking little hands. Reaching out to her I stroked her messy hair and bent and told her, "It's going to be alright lady. What ever happened it's all over now. Don't worry we'll get you all better honey."  Like a child would to her father, Jennifer lifted her arms up and hugged herself close to me, and sobbed into my shoulder. I let her. This was not the time for an investigation. It was a time for comforting someone in distress. I just remained bent over her and allowed her to let it all out as I patted her back gently and whispered, "That's right honey, let it all go, it's going to be ok."

After about fifteen minuets or so, she just sat there quietly holding me and weeping. Then she released me and threw herself back against the couch. She looked around the room and said, "I'm sorry for this mess Mr. James. (My first name is James and since I am much older than the average student, they all have taken to using Mister before it, a form of respect I suppose.) I hushed her and said, "Now don't even worry about this mess Jennifer. I've seen worse and I can handle this. I'm more concerned about you girl. Are you alright honey?" She looked away and said, "I can't talk about it right now Mr. James. It was just so awful. I just want to get to my room and shower and go to sleep, after I help you clean up."  Again I told her not to worry about cleaning. 

Then I joked, trying to ease her distress, "Are you trying to take my job?" She got my attempt at humor and for the first time since I arrived, flashed a half smile. I offered her my hand and she attempted to stand. Her knees were still shaky and she fell back down on the sofa. "I know where your room is Jennifer, here let me help you," I offered. Then I bent and swooped the young girl into my arms and carried her toward the door. She hugged my neck as I carried her out. I only saw the one shoe in the trashcan and I didn't figure she'd want that back. I didn't even ask about the other one.

When we got to her room, I gently sat Jennifer down on her chair at her desk. She lived alone and paid extra for the privacy. Her room fit her usual appearance. It was neat and tidy. Her books were all placed together with her tablets and pens and highlighters. Her bed was made and her open closet revealed an assortment of neatly hung clothing. She thanked me and said, "Mr. James," but I stopped her and said, "Jennifer, just call me James." She smiled up through her tear-streaked eyes and said, "Yes sir," so sweetly it almost melted my heart, then said, "Well ah, James, I have to try to wash off this mess. I feel so violated and dirty right now. But I just wanted to thank you for not laughing at me looking like this and all." She cast her eyes away from me and gazed at the floor. My gaze went there too for a moment. I was seeing her cute size six naked feet, but my heart was not on sex as much as compassion for her when I said, "Jennifer," but she stopped me this time. She said, "James, please call me Jenny, as my friends do." Then she added, "At least those I thought were my friends anyways," as her voice trailed off. 

I back towards the door and said, "Thank you Jenny, it is an honor to be considered your friend. Now honey, you go and clean yourself up now, then try to get some rest. I'll go back and clean the study room and no one will be the wiser come morning." Then I added, "If you ever feel like talking, I've got two pretty big ears." It was good to hear her gently laugh as I left.

It was two days since I'd last seen Jenny. She may have been attending classes during the day, but she was nowhere around at night. I figured she'd been holed up in her dorm room trying to sort out what happened. I was going about my usual duties when my pager went off. I called the number and heard a familiar voice. It was Jenny. "Hello James," she said softly. 

"Well hello Jenny, how have you been, feeling better I hope."

"Well, I have a little I suppose," she says then adds, "I was wondering if those ears of yours would be available for a sob story?"

"Sure are friend," I smiled. "Where are you?"

"I'm in my room. If your not busy I could sure use a friend. I've been here since you left the other night trying to sort things out and I need someone to bounce my thoughts against."

"I'll be right up." We both hung up our phones and I headed for the back stair well.

I knocked on her door and Jenny opened it with a soft smile. She was wearing a long red nightshirt and soft fuzzy house slippers. Her hair was brushed out and looked as pretty as ever, yet she had forsaken her make up. Still she was most beautiful. "Come on in," she said and offered me a seat beside her on her couch.  I sat and watched as she crossed her legs. Beside her was a tray with a teapot and two cups. She asked if I cared to join her in a spot of tea. I accepted. She had this habit of bouncing her leg, which caused her dangling slipper to lightly smack against her heel. It was driving me crazy, yet I tried not to stare, well too much anyway.

"So," I began while sipping my tea, "what great thoughts have you come up with Jenny?"

"Well, I might as well start at the beginning. What I am about to tell you may sound a bit weird," she said. "I hope we can keep this between you and I though James. I've just got to get it off my chest to somebody, and I think I can trust you, at least I hope I can."

I had already decided that whatever what on this young woman's mind would be all right with me. I'd seen her at her worst, and the last thing she needed, or that I wanted to do would be to add to her discomfort. I just smiled politely and said, "You have my complete confidence Jenny, I promise." Jenny sighed and sat back. She cradled her cup in her tiny hands and looked straight ahead at a blank spot on the wall, or through it and began her tale.

"It all started last year when a few of the upperclassmen discovered who I am. My father, Matthew Dowden, is not known by name as much as by what he does for a living. He's an oilman with wells producing great wealth in several states. He divorced my mother when I was young and the two of us lived alone. I had anything daddy's little girl could hope for. A pony, toys, clothes, you name it, and I had it all growing up. He kept trying to make up for divorcing my mother. He gave me everything except his time. He never understood that all I really wanted was to be loved by him. Instead, all I ever got was what ever his secretary would send me, some gift to take his place. When I turned twenty-three I found myself with all the material pleasures yet no meaning of life. I never worked, nor was I allowed to leave home, such as it was. It had become my prison. Sure the maids and butlers were always around to cater to me, but no dad! And when he did come home, for a day or two, there was always some big private meeting he had to attend to that cut into what was supposed to be our time together. 

I'd be all excited, expecting that this time we would actually go out to dinner or a museum together, only to get a fax or an email saying, 'Sorry Jen, something came up at the last minuet.' 

One day shortly after my 23'rd birthday I get this post card from Vienna from him stating, 'Jennifer, Julie and I just got wed yesterday,' who the Hell ever Julie is, and it went on to say, 'your new mom and I are leaving for a world cruise, love dad.'  I was devastated! It took me by complete surprise. All those cancelled times I'd missed were probably due to her! The bitch! She stole my father and he'd stolen my childhood."I could not help but feel sympathy for the girl as she spoke. Her sobs returned like the night I 'd last seen her. I put my cup down and leaned over, pulling her close to me. She again sobbed into my shoulder then softly said, "I'm sorry James, but I can't help it."

"It's alright Jenny. I'd like to say I understand but I surely don't, not fully anyway. I mean I've never had that kind of money, but I can see it sure can't buy happiness little one."

She sniffed gently and said, "It really can't," then continued with her story as the tears streaked her cheeks.

"Anyway, that's when I decided to learn to make a living for myself. So I figured I'd learn how to become a secretary, since that's obviously the type of woman daddy likes. I entered this school and have been here ever since. My dad hasn't contacted me because he has no idea where I am. Oh, believe me, he could have easily found me if he wanted to, or cared to. That's just par for the course of our relationship I guess."

Again Jenny sobbed softly. I held her tight and said, "Honey, you don't have to continue. I hate seeing you so upset."

"No, no," she said, "It's alright I want to tell you James. Maybe it's because you are around the same age as my dad that I feel safe exposing myself with you? Or maybe it's because we are so different…" then she abruptly stopped and looked up at me with apologetic eyes. "I didn't mean because you are black James. I'm not prejudice or anything and I didn't mean any offense."

As I brushed back a few soft strands of hair from her face I smiled at her warmly and said, "None taken Jenny. I assumed we were talking about our vast income differences not race." This seemed to put her back at ease somewhat. She settled back with her head resting on my chest, seemingly enjoying the pampering. I held her and rubbed her shoulder.  After a few moments of comforting her, Jenny continued her plight.

"Anyway, it didn't take long for the other girls to notice that I was not the average poor college student. A few of them began snooping around on the computer and found out who my father was. Then it started. "Jenny could you lend me $20 bucks here, or $50 bucks there?" I became the student pansy and I allowed it since I thought, 'What the Hell, it's only money and each month good old daddy added twice what ever I spend to my bank account anyway?' Besides, I actually thought they were my friends! Ha! Some friends.When I finally got tired of supporting these bitches, they turned on me. That's what happened the other night. These three upperclassmen, Sarah Goldman, Tina Collins and Linda Smallman, well they jumped me. James, they used my deepest secrets to torment and brutalize me the other night into doing the most horrible things. When the finished, they trashed the study room and, well…" her voice trailed off and the tears ran down her face once more.

"There, there honey, it's all over now baby," I said consolingly as possible. She sobbed deeply and I held her tightly as she did. I knew these three bitches. They were the 'queens' of the college, or at least they acted like it. They would constantly make unnecessary messes just to cause me extra work. I'd hear them snicker loudly to each other well within my presence things like, "aw Hell just drop that shit on the floor, our fucking janitor will run and clean it up, after all, it's his damn job we're protecting," then they'd glance my way and laugh. Four years I had to bite my tongue and stare daggers at those three haughty bitches. Many times I was summoned to clean their messes. It wasn't my job but they would always seem to have a plumbing emergency. Like the time that damn Tina stuffed toilet paper in her sink and left the water running causing a flood on purpose. Or the night Linda stuffed stockings into her toilet and continued flushing and flushing piss then paged me. That wasn't so bad, the first time, but she did it twice in one night, just to harass me.

Whenever one of these, or other such mishaps occurred, the three of them were present and I'd hear the same snide remarks and snickers.Oh yes, I knew these sluts, but to keep my job I held my tongue. But this time they went too far! I just had to hear the rest of what they did to this already damaged woman. "Ok then Jenny, let's get the rest of that nasty encounter off your chest. What did these little idiots do to you honey?"

Jenny sighed and began. "Well James, you see, the other day just before classes ended they all came to me and said we should have a study party in the back study room. I usually go there anyway but mostly I'm alone in there. They knew that so I figured what the heck. It sounded like fun for a change. They told me to order some snacks and such, which was no big surprise since I always wound up paying anyway, so I agreed. That night we didn't do much studying though. Instead we started a game of truth or dare. They asked and dared each other childish things. Like once Tina dared Linda to eat half a slice of pizza in one bite, big deal. Then one time Sarah had to stuff a handful of chips in her big mouth and chew them with her mouth opened, wow! Yet each time it was my turn the question was either about how much money I was worth, or why I needed a job, or what was my childhood like.  I didn't like answering them so my dares became nasty. I decided I didn't want to play anymore and was about to leave when that slut Sarah turned to me and said, "You aren't going anywhere bitch. You may be daddy's little princess but to us you're nothing but an ugly little troll and tonight we own you pig."

"I was frightened and tried to stand up when Tina tripped me and knocked me to the floor. They all three pounced on me and mashed pizza all in my face laughing at me. Then Linda punched my in my stomach and I cried for them to stop. They laughed and told me to shut up or they would really hurt me. Suddenly I felt a slap across my mouth, which split my lip. Blood spurted everywhere and I was scared to death. 'Stop crying bitch or it will get worse,' Linda hollered, and I chocked back my fears. Then Tina comes up with the bright idea of forcing me to kiss her feet.

I was not even going to do that but then Sarah laughs and says, 'Yeah let's have the little rich bitch sniff and smell all our stinky fucking feet.' The next thing I know Sarah and Linda are behind me forcing me to my knees before Tina, who was kicking off her disgusting sneakers. I felt one of them grab my hair and yank my head back while Tina lifted her sweaty soles up and yelled, 'Lick my feet bitch.' It was so foul smelling James. I'd never been so tormented as I felt my face shoved into her stinky soles. 

She rubbed her feet all over my face, mashing my lips hard against them, laughing all the time at me. Then Sarah yells, 'my turn now slut.' She threw me against Linda who chocked my throat while Tina and Sarah changed places. They were all working together to humiliate me and I cried and begged for them to stop. It only made them laugh all the more."

"Sarah had Tina and Linda force me on my back as she removed her shoes and rubbed her stinky socks on my face. Her feet were moist and smelled like sour cheese as the stench invaded my nostrils. Each time I tried to turn my head someone would punch my stomach, or slap my thighs hard. When that happened I'd open my mouth to scream in pain and that's when Sarah would stick her nasty tasting stinky socked toes into my mouth. After quite some time I guess Sarah got bored with it and said, 'OK Linda you do the little rich bitch!' Linda got up and said, 'Oh no, she aint sniffing my fucking feet I'm too ticklish, besides I have a better idea for the little pig." Then she snatched my shoes off and said, 'hold the bitch to the floor girls.' The other two held me fast, one at my arms and the other at my ankles as Linda poured soda into my sneaker. Then she grabbed my hair and forced my neck to bend toward her and made me drink from my sweaty shoe. I nearly choked as she poured the foul tasting sweat and soda in my mouth. It spilled out all over my face and hair and down my shirt. The three laughed and then Linda smeared a slice of pizza against my foot and stuffed it into my mouth. 'Chew it up slut, make it all gone,' she chided as if I was a baby in a high chair.They kept this shit up for over an hour until they had enough. Then they trashed the place and said I'd be blamed for the mess if I told anyone about what had happened. They also said they'd do worse to me for snitching. Then they all left and, well, I didn't know what to do so that's when I called you James."

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Love thy neighbors Feet

Sexually Explicit

Female Domination

Every day Jason watched from his window as she left for work. Jason was thrilled to see her in her waitress uniform. She wore a fluffy white blouse, black pants and the same white sneakers each day. She'd leave to work the brunch shift and work until after the dinner rush. Jason had her schedule down pat. He longed to get up the courage to talk to her. He'd lived across the street from her since she moved in six months ago. But his nerve never allowed it.

Jason was a widower now. His wife had suddenly passed a year ago. Since then he barely left the house. He loved his wife so.

Yet until this red haired woman, who he figured to be about 30 or so, rented the house across the street he just kept to himself. His only enjoyment was getting up early enough to peek at her through the window, and wait for her to come back at night. 

He often wondered how she did it. She lived alone and had rare visitors. She worked long hours and seemed tired; as she should after those long double shifts she worked. She was quiet and attractive. And somehow Jason wished he could get up the courage to finally meet her.

It must have been around noon when a knock came on his door. Jason peeked out the window and saw the mailman on his front step. He opened the door and received a package with the address of the red haired woman across the street. The mailman asked if Jason would give it to his neighbor, as he didn't want to leave it on her porch all day. Jason readily agreed and signed for the package. He went inside and studied the return address, which read, "Happy Feet Inc." This intrigued him greatly.

All through his marriage Jason had served has his wife's foot slave. He found her in collage and soon found himself completely under her feet as her personal slave. Many are the times his wife had him sniff and lick and suck her succulant toes. How often had Jason been made to lie under her chair and masturbate as his wife used his face for a resting place.   It was his life to serve his wife this way. He kept her toenails painted with fresh pedicures weekly. He bought her shoes and always kept them in proper order and well shined. Usually he'd accomplish the shining with his tongue while on his knees before her. 

Jason's wife was not into feet at all when they met. He had to convince her to allow him to be her foot slave. His former wife at first would have none of it. This made Jason want her all the more as to him, she had the perfect feet. They were very shapely with high arches. Size 6 and a half, with perfectly stair stepped toes. When they first met, she'd never paint her nails. Hell she'd never thought of it. Also even in the summer she'd hardly wear shoes that revealed her beautiful feet.

Actually it was after a night of dancing back in her dorm room that Jason first got a good look at them. She had brought him up to her room and after fixing them a drink, she went into the bathroom and came out in a baggy pair of pants, a loose sweatshirt, and barefoot. At first sight of those feet Jason was hooked. It became his mission to be at them any time he could.  Of course he immediately offered to give her a foot rub stating how they must be tired after dancing all night. She refused.

Undaunted Jason kept at her often.

Each time they would make love, he made sure to pay particular attention to her feet. A small kiss here, a touch there but seemingly his wife never took the hints.  It was after a few years of their marriage that she had a talk with one of her friends who set her straight. Once she understood what his infatuation with feet was all about for the remainder of their twenty-year marriage, she tortured and pleased him with her feet. Jason became her total slave and he loved it. In all of his endeavors to keep the foot love alive, he'd often purchased items from the company called "Happy Feet." 

Standing there in his living room, holding a box from this well familiar company for the red haired waitress who lived across the street brought new courage, and an instant hard on to the lonely widower. It was nearly seven p.m. when her car pulled into the driveway. Jason was, as usual standing guard at his post near the window. He watched as her brake lights turned off, knowing that her foot had just left the pedal. Then he saw her door open and waited as she gathered her purse, then swung that lovely white sneaker to the ground, soon followed by the other one. His eyes followed each step as she gingerly walked up the steps to her door and went in. He looked at the box on the table then sighed and looked up through a hole in the ceiling toward Heaven. With a small tear in his eye he whispered out loud, "You said you'd have feet in my face all my life darling, perhaps now you've fulfilled that promise."

Feeling thus assured, Jason gathered up the box and headed toward the red haired woman's house. Upon hearing the soft knocking on her door, the woman opened it. She was still dressed from work, shoes and all, he noticed.  "Hello, can I help you?" she questioned. Jason was astonished to be this close to her. She stood only five foot two, had shoulder length red hair, which he'd usually only seen tied up in a bun. He stammered out his name and held the box in shaky hands to her. She blushed and asked if he could bring the box inside, as if she was too embarrassed to touch it herself.

Jason followed and was led to her living room. "It came today Ms Wells," Jason said after reading her name from the address then continued, "the mailman didn't want to just leave it on the porch and asked if I'd give it to you."

His speech stammered but he kept his eyes lowered as he spoke. "That's very kind of you Sir, thank you," she said not having the knowledge of his name.

Jason felt awkward being much older than her and said, "Oh that's no problem Ms Wells," as he placed the box on the floor beside her feet. "Please," she smiled, "call me Trudy, Ms Wells was my mother." 

She laughed softly as she spoke putting him quite at ease. Then she surprised him by asking, "Won't you sit down I just put on some tea, join me for a cup Sir."  

Jason felt more at ease and said, "Well yes Miss, but only if you call me Jason. I'm already old enough and you calling me Sir and all, well…." She looked him in the face and smiled, "Jason it is then. Please have a seat." Then she departed towards the kitchen, returning with a tray full of the hot tea and some mint cookies. Trudy found it a bit odd to find Jason sitting on the ottoman at the end of the couch rather than a chair but thought little of it as she said facing him. 

She poured them both the tea and sat back trying to avoid staring at the box. As they sipped and got to know each other a bit Jason kept his eyes constantly glued to her sneakers. Trudy kept, quite unknowingly, or so it seemed, rotating her ankles. Every once in a while she would snap her foot downward and make a popping sound from her anklebones. Once while doing this it popped quite loudly and she saw his head snap back. This alerted her that he was paying quite a bit of attention to her feet. Then she blushed again and looked at the box beside him. "Damn," she cussed, "I didn't mean to startle you Jason but my feet and ankles hurt from my long days at work."

Jason turned his head away from her feet and stated that he knew that being a waitress must be hard on her feet. "You can't begin to imagine how hard it is Jason," she moaned. "This is why I decided to try this stuff in that box. I'd give anything to find some relief," then she laughed not wanting to sound whiney to her neighbor. Jason felt as if his deceased wife was encouraging him. He looked at the box and a thought just "came to him" as he said, "Well Miss Trudy, my wife, God rest her soul, used to purchase from this very same company. She found their products to be quite helpful on her feet." 

He could not believe he'd had courage enough to initiate a conversation about feet to this young woman. However, having started it he continued. "In fact Miss, I'd often produce great sighs of relaxation from her as I applied some of their lotions and gadgets on her aching, swollen feet. In time I became quite good at it. At least she seemed to enjoy my meager attempts to comfort her.  Trudy was now quite intrigued. She didn't know this older gent was widowed, not did she think anyone other than her would be familiar with "Happy Feet." Also she was beginning to feel that she might just have found someone to pamper her feet. 

rudy was by no means a foot virgin. She wore a size five shoe and has had many a customer compliment her on the smallness of them. Hell she'd gotten lots of tips from a few regulars who she'd meet in the back room and allow to play with her feet. Men are so easy when it comes to feet. She was not above watching a man crawl to her and serve her at her feet either. She knew full well what "Happy Feet" as all about. She bought the stuff to ensure her feet stayed soft and sexy for the stupid men who would fall at them. The out of state businessmen who came in twice a month. 

It sure wasn't just for the fucking ham on rye! Those truckers who'd have to park their rigs two blocks away, well it was a lot more than the meat loaf and gravy they came for.  Trudy used her feet like the other girls who worked there used their big tits – to make money! It was all a game to her and she was no rookie either. She also liked how this stupid old man was "sneaking" peeks at her shoes. She saw him since he came in his eyes rarely left her feet. Now he's going to make this easy for her, but she would not do the same for him.

Sitting back deeply into the sofa Trudy said, "Your wife was one luck woman Jason. I'd love to have a husband who'd massage my feet for me," then she hooked him deeper adding, "but then he would have to have no sense of scent as my feet get awfully sweaty after working all day."  Trudy laughed to herself as she saw the old fools cock stir at that last remark. "Well Miss Trudy, to be sure some women's feet might give off a certain aroma but that's only if they are healthy Miss."  

"I don't know Jason," she coyed, "I must be pretty healthy then. I doubt that anyone could stand my feet for long without running for the hills." Trudy had to hold back her laughter seeing beads of sweat form on his forehead, and hearing the want in his voice. She crossed her legs right over left and rocked her foot close to his face without touching him.  

Jason was lost to her now. It had been so long since he'd even left his house. He had done nothing but masturbate to his foot fetish magazines since his wife passed. He had no hopes of ever finding another woman to replace his desires for feet. Yet know he was engaged in such a conversation with a woman, a younger woman at that, right across the street from him.  He watched as her sneaker passed back and forth under his nose, nearly touching him. Trudy was baiting the hook now. 

She kept her tease alive by cracking again and again the socket of her ankle. His eyes were focused on her bare ankle sticking out between the hem of her pants and the top of the shoe. Beads of sweat ran down his entire face. It was now just a matter of her reeling him in for she had him now, hook line and sinker.

"Jason," she asked with a soft sexy voice, "I know we've just met but since we are on the subject, and you do seem to be quite interested, would you think me odd if I asked you for a foot massage, so early in our new friendship?" Then she flashed such a baby girl smile down at him, it melted his heart away. If there was any resistance, which of course there wasn't, it vanished. She heard the only words she expected to hear, which was "Yes Miss."

Jason reached for and was granted her foot. He untied her sneaker slowly and grabbed the heel and tugged gently. With a popping sound her foot emerged. The room soon filled with the cheesy scent of her sweaty foot. His nostrils flared which Trudy noticed. She decided to toy with her new footboy. "Do they smell too strongly for you Jason?" she mused. "If so you can stop now. 

Perhaps I've asked too much of you already. Besides I haven't even showered or anything yet and I've been in those shoes all day without my socks. They must reek, I'm sorry. Let's just forget the whole thing."  This caused a pained expression to cross his face.

How could he ever get her to allow him to continue at such a lovely pair of feet? He thought then it came to him as he said, "No Miss Trudy. You have a rather distinct and appealing aroma to your foot Miss. In fact I rather find it quite pleasing if you don't mind me saying so." She smiled and said to herself "gotcha!"

"So you like the aroma of my little sweaty feet do you Jason?"

"Yes Miss I do. It smells quite nice to me."

"Then prove it or I'll snatch my foot away. Hold my sneaker to your face and let me hear you sniff my stinky foot scent deep into your lungs. Do this and you may continue." 

Her tone had become quite authoritative now. She was issuing the final test of his apparent servitude. If he did this, she knew she had him in the power of her feet.  Without comment he obeyed her. His face disappeared deeply into her well-worn sneaker. He held it firmly to his nose and mouth and she did indeed her the old man sniffing her stinky shoe. She laughed, out loud this time, so he could hear her. Then as he continued she said.

"From now on old man, you will daily pamper my feet just as you did your wife's all those years. You will be here at my fucking house each evening when I come home. You will serve my feet and the feet of who ever else I command you to foot slave, got it?"

Jason could hardly peel the inside of her shoe away from his face fast enough to say, "Yes Miss."

"Good boy" she said. "Now put down that damn shoe and lick my foot. I want your slave tongue to bath and sooth it for me."  Jason held her tiny foot to his mouth and began at her heel. His lips puckered as he planted the first loving kiss on a foot since doing so to his wife.  He sucked on her heel and lapped, as it rested inside is teeth. His nose was pressed against her sole. The warm stickiness of it held fast to him. He loved the scent of her tiny foot. His cock grew inside his pants to a girth not long remembered. His tongue trailed to her high proud arch. He licked her sole not up and down, rather from side to side following along each wrinkle.

He let none of her sweat escape his ravishing tongue. She cooed and sunk deeper into the sofa enjoying her newfound slave. Then she gasped for air as his tongue licked the valley between her big toe and the next one. Rather than sucking her toes first, like most men did, Jason went for the tiny morsels of sweat and jam she'd created. This was most interesting to her. "Gather some of my toe jam on your bitchboy tongue and show it to me before you swallow it," she commanded. Jason complied and showed her a tiny speck of her sweat on the tip of his tongue. "Now swallow boy," she snapped, and his tongue snaked into his mouth and his Adams apple bobbed to her command.

After nearly two hours Trudy snatched her foot away from Jason and landed it directly on his swollen cock and said, "I have two feet don't I asshole?" She lifted her still shod foot in the air and said, "Now prepare for a long night of orally pampering my sweaty feet slave." Just before she drifted off to sleep she heard, "Yes Miss," and again felt his tongue do her bidding.

by Stryker

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Foot fetish Story - Please Fuck My Wife!

My dominant wife, Teri, is the head of our household. My wife thoroughly enjoys her superior status over me and had has a large collections of whips, paddles, and restraints to keep me subdued. Teri gave me permission to write about my submission to her and her newly rejuvenated sex life.

When Teri learned of my secret desire to be totally dominated, she was more than happy to accommodate me. Her efforts in training me have been well-rewarded for I am now completely submissive to her. Over the years Teri has become increasingly dominant and has developed a penchant for humiliating me. I have a very strong foot fetish and my wife allows me the pleasure of worshiping her beautiful size-8 ˝ feet on a regular basis. I must satisfy her completely or face the consequence which usually means a severe paddling of my ass. I have become nothing more than a house boy and slave to my beloved wife.

Even now as I write this, I am embarrassed by these words, but for several years now I been unable to sexually satisfy my wife. Teri has a powerful libido but, unfortunately, I am not a satisfactory lover. My penis is small and I cum much too quickly. Teri began to tease me about the size of my dick early in her domination of me. Eventually, my wife started telling me about different men she had slept with in the past and how much better endowed they were than me. She is always amused by my reaction of jealousy. To compensate for my shortcomings, I happily provide Teri with cunnilingus and analingus whenever she wishes. She also enjoys being stimulated with toys. As it is now, my only source of sexual relief is through masturbation.

One night last week as I kissed her feet, Teri told me of her desire to have extramarital adventures. Feelings of jealousy and possessiveness swept over me. I realized, however, that I am totally under Teri’s control and devoted to serving as her foot slave, and would be powerless to oppose her having an affair if she chose to do so.

“I want you to be happy, dear,” I said in between kisses to her feet. “I’m your slave and you can do anything you want. I’m helpless to stop you, dear.”

“Well, what would make me happy is a big, hard cock,” she informed me.

"Yes, dear,” I responded shamefacedly.

My wife and I have been married almost twenty years, and she still looks fantastic. My wife is 5’ 7” tall and measures in at an impressive 36D-22-34. Teri has hazel eyes, a great tan, and long dark hair. To me, she is a goddess; I want nothing more than to worship her and cater to her every whim. To other men, however, she is just a sexy woman they would love to fuck. I knew Teri could easily find another man to bed her.

When I got home from work yesterday, I knelt down before my wife and kissed her feet as usual. She was in a cheerful mood.

“Honey, you know how we talked about me screwing another man?" she began with a patronizing tone.

"Yes, dear,” I responded sheepishly. “Have you met someone you want to sleep with?"

“Yes, I have,” she beamed. “His name is Tom and he's a male stripper. One of my married co-workers dated this guy behind her husband’s back. She told me how great he was in bed. She told me about the size of his cock, too. And I want him to fuck me."

"Yes, dear,” I said, trying to hide my apprehension. "I want you to do whatever makes you happy, darling,"

“That’s exactly what I plan to do,” she told me in a condescending tone. “He’s coming over tonight, and you’re going to act as our butler and all-around servant. I’ve told him all about you, and he says it would really turn him on to have you to watch us.”

My only response was a sobbing, "Yes, dear.”

My wife then made me help her get ready for her date. After her bubble bath, I helped her into a short, low-cut, pink cocktail dress and a pair of strappy, high heeled sandals. Teri decided not to wear a bra or panties.

"I’d just be taking them off as soon as he gets here anyway," she told me. “I’m really horny and he will be here to fuck me in half an hour. I can hardly wait!”

She then had me dress in a tuxedo and explained my duties as butler.

“I expect total obedience when I order you to do something, no matter what it is. Am I understood?" my wife lectured me.

"Yes, dear,” I answered. “Of course, dear.”

“I want to see you to kneel before him and beg him to fuck me,” she grinned.

“Yes, dear,” was all I could manage to say. “Whatever you say, dear.”

I answered the door when my wife’s guest arrived. The man was ruggedly handsome and quite muscular. I felt intimidated by him. Addressing him as “sir,” I escorted my wife’s date to the living room where my wife greeted him with a deep, smoldering kiss.

My wife told me to take Tom’s jacket and to bring them each a glass of Chablis. When I returned with the wine, they were on the sofa. I passively knelt at my wife’s feet and quietly waited for further instructions. Teri and her guest sipped their drinks and chatted for several minutes.

“My husband is not man enough to satisfy me,” Teri confided. “So I make him lick my feet to show his affection.”

“Are you kidding?” he laughed. “He licks your feet?”

“Show Tom how you worship my feet,” my wife smiled smugly down at me.

I obeyed without question, removing my wife’s shoes and amorously kissing her bare feet. Teri then began to work her delicious feet up and down my face and in and out of my mouth. I was soon in an erotic trance, passionately licking her feet from heel to toe for the entertainment of the new man in her life.

“It looks like you’ve trained him well,” he chucked.

“Yes,” she responded proudly, “He tongues my pussy and asshole whenever I want, but I haven’t let him sleep with me for more than a year. He’s content to lick my feet and jack off.”

Tom was looking down at me, smiling from ear to ear, and I blushed in embarrassment.

“He’s gotten pretty good at giving me oral sex, but he knows his dick just isn’t big enough to satisfy me,” my wife told Tom as her hand gently stroked the bulge in his pants. “He wants me to enjoy sex, and since he’s not man enough to get the job done, my husband wants a man with a big cock to fuck me for him.”

“I have a big cock.” he smiled down at me arrogantly, waiting for my response.

My face burned crimson with shame. I must admit that watching my wife having sex with another man was a secret fantasy that I had relished. Now, with the prospect of the cuckold fantasy about to become a reality, I found myself becoming increasingly apprehensive. The feelings of humiliation were more severe than I had imagined. I remembered what Teri said about begging him to take her to bed, but hesitated at first.

“Did you hear that? Tom says he has a big cock,” Teri giggled. “Isn’t there a favor you want to ask him?”

“P-please, sir,” I stammered, kneeling before him and trembling with shame. “Teri needs a man with a big dick. I know that she would really enjoy herself with you. Please take her to bed fuck her good and hard, sir. Please fuck my wife.”

Uttering these words made me feel thoroughly degraded. The horror of asking an obviously better a better man to bed the woman I love cannot be described. Both of them laughed derisively at me plea; my eyes teared in disgrace.

“Sure, I’d be happy to fuck your wife for you,” Tom looked down at me with a menacing smirk. “I’ll give her a fucking she’ll never forget.”

My wife quickly secured my hands behind my back with a pair of handcuffs and unzipped my pants and attached a harness and leash to my undersized penis. Tugging on the leash, my wife happily took hold of Nick’s hand and led him into the bedroom with me submissively following behind them on my hands and knees.

I obediently kneeled at the foot of the bed and my wife quickly pulled her dress over her head. She sat on the bed and made me kiss her feet as she watched him undress for her.

“Wow!” my wife exclaimed.

I looked up at Tom. He just stood there with his massive cock swaying out in front of his belly. I averted my eyes in shame, but could not help staring at his massive erection. Rod’s manhood was twice the size of mine. It was almost as big around as my wrist, and had to be 10” in length, with purple veins coursing up the think shaft and ending just below the enormous head. I looked at him with my mouth open in disbelief, and he stared down at me arrogantly. I felt my own cock shrivel up; my embarrassment in front of him, and even more in front of my wife, was unbelievably degrading. After sizing him up, my wife looked over at me and her smirk said it all; she and I both knew the extent of my inferiority.

He sat down on the bed beside Teri. Snuggling up to him, my wife took his cock into her hand and began to stroke it lovingly.

“Oh, my God!” Terri exclaimed. “You’re so big!”

They started making out, French kissing with increasing passion and he was kneading and sucking her breasts. I was at the foot of the bed and passively watched. It was so thick she could not get her hand around the shaft. My wife’s 3 carat diamond wedding ring seemed to sparkle with insolence as her fingers fondled another man’s huge, hard cock.

My wife glanced at me with a smirk as she went down on him. Teri began licking her way up and down the thick shaft, and then kissed the plump head of his cock before taking it into her mouth. Tom moaned with pleasure. As my wife licked and sucked Tom’s big cock, I was required to suck her toes. Teri could not devour the whole thing, but using both hands, one atop the other, she stroked his thick shaft and sucked hard on the fat head. I felt totally ashamed, kneeling there and unquestioningly worshiping my wife’s feet as she sucked another man’s cock with whorish abandon. My indignity was compounded by the fact that, in all our years of marriage, Teri had absolutely refused to go down on me. It was obvious that her adoration of his cock matched that of mine for her feet.

Then Teri clasped her breasts around his cock, trapping it in her cleavage.

"C'mon, baby, fuck my tits!” she urged him.

Tom began to stroking his erection in and out of her bosom's loving embrace. His cock was glistening with her saliva and moved smoothly between her breasts. She kissed the head of his cock lovingly and tenderly as she cradled its shaft between her soft, silky boobs.

“Eat my pussy,” my wife smiled smugly down at me. “Get it nice and wet from Tom.”

I obediently crawled to Terri and buried my face between her legs. Terri positioned her legs over my shoulders and layback to enjoy my oral services. I started licking her moist labia and repeatedly plunged my tongue deep inside her. She started to moan Even though I just started licking her, her cunt was all juiced up and ready for fucking. I was in a daze. I circled Terri’s clit with my tongue and sucked on the sensitive organ. I licked and sucked her voraciously as he continued to thrust his cock between her tits. I am not sure if Terri reached orgasm, but after several minutes she spurned me.

“You can worship my feet while we fucks,” she smirked.

As my wife pushed her toes into my mouth, Tom was fingering her moist vagina. Teri pulled Tom on top of her and spread her legs for him. I was totally at the pleasure of my adulterous wife, kneeling at bedside and fervidly sucking her delicious brightly painted toes as Tom mounted her, his large masculine feet coming between her petite ones.

"C’mon, Tom, give it to me!” my wife panted. “Fuck me!”

This was the moment I had both craved and dreaded. The idea of my wife having sex with another man had been a wonderful fantasy, but with the cold reality of the situation I now felt possessive and heartbroken. My feelings were of no concern; there was nothing I could do to stop them now. Teri’s foot was at the edge of the bed, and I was allowed to humbly suck her toes while she prepared to commit the act of adultery.

I just knelt on the floor, kissing and licking her bare foot, and watching in amazement as Terri reached down and guided Tom’s cock to the opening of her juicy slit. I was mesmerized as I watched the big head of his cock enter her. My wife gasped loudly as Tom drove his big, stiff cock deep into her vagina, filling it to the limit. I wondered if my wife would be uncomfortable from his size, until I she brought her mouth to his, kissing him passionately; their tongue entwined.

"Oh, Tom,” I could hear my wife panting. “Oh, Tom."

How she took all of him, I'll never know, but she did. His thrusts, measured and methodical at first, became increasingly harder and faster. He kept pulling his prick almost out of her cunt until just part of the head was in and then rammed it in hard.

Terri was squealing with pleasure, her hands were gripping the flesh of his back. My wife dug her heels into the mattress and bucked her hips to urge him on Eyes shut and mouth agape, Dianna concentrated on the orgasm that swelled within her, when it arrived she announced her gratification with a cry of ecstasy.

“Oh, yes, Tom, fuck me,” Terri was gasping “Oh, Tom, I love it!"

Rod’s stamina was incredible, and Terri careened from one orgasm to another. As I worshiped my wife’s foot, it was jerking rhythmically, recoiling from the powerful impact of his thrusts. He didn’t make love to her; he fucked her. There was no softness, no tenderness; it was animalistic. All the while, Terri was moaning, crying out, and screaming. I’m sure the next-door neighbors could hear her wails of ecstasy. In all the years we had been married, she had never been this vocal with me. Tom was fucking my wife good, better than I ever did. She loved his big cock.

“Oh, yeah, baby!” my wife cried out. “Yeah!”

It felt so demeaning to have my wife working her foot up and down my face and in and out of my mouth while she writhed in ecstasy beneath another man. I humbly ran my tongue between her wiggling toes and over her heels, arches, and soles. Teri cried out rapturously, her feet trembling against my lips, as she experienced wave after wave of orgasm. Tom was pounding his hard cock into my wife, and she loved it. Teri planted the sole of her foot firmly in my face and used my features to brace herself as she thrust her hips upward to meet his cock. My wife’s fingernails dug into his broad back as she bucked her hips upward to urge him on. Her foot was stomping rhythmically into my face Teri seemed oblivious to the fact that she had kicked me hard in the face and sent me sprawling to the floor.

"Oh, yes, Tom!” my wife was moaning. “Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I scrambled to reclaim my kneeling position at the foot of the bed, but now I was denied even the humility of worshiping my adulterous wife’s feet. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. My wife’s beautiful feet were locked at the ankles around Tom’s bobbing ass, quivering with excitement, as his cock moved in and out of her. No matter what I do, or how hard I try, I will never be able to match the feelings of fullness and deep penetration his big cock gave her. I watched him touch my wife in depths I will never know. My wife was so totally focused on him that I could just as well not have been in the room; she cared about nothing except his cock inside her and the orgasm she felt running through her body. I was a spectator, a bystander, as my wife and another man shared feelings which will never be mine.

“Fuck me, Tom!” she panted. “Fuck the shit out of me!”

Now Tom pulled my wife’s long legs over his shoulders and really started to fuck her.

From my vantage point, I could see Tom’s thick, glistening cock slamming into my wife like a piston, his balls slapping against her ass. His strokes were long and deep. The whole bed was shaking. Her tits were jiggling flopping wildly. The headboard of the bed was banging into the wall. The slap, slap, slap of their thighs meeting filling the room.

“I want you to cum!” she was moaning. “Shoot your cum in me, Tom!”

Tom was slamming his cock into my wife like a stallion. I could see his balls convulse and that he was about to come. Finally, he plowed into her with one final thrust. An animal-like growl burst from Tom’s throat. My wife moaned in delight when she felt his hot semen spurt deep inside her; her blatant act of adultery had been fully consummated. Tom rolled off of my thoroughly satisfied wife and his cock slowly came out of her with a loud plop, which cause both of them to giggle. They just lay there for a few minutes, resting, as I devotedly kissed her feet.

“Oh, my God,” Teri panted. “I’ve never been fucked like that before. You were wonderful, Tom.”

“Come here slave,” she commanded with a wicked smile.

Teri grabbed me by the hair and roughly pulled my head between her legs. With my face just inches from her freshly adulterated pussy, I could see that my wife’s labia were open like butterfly wings and her vagina was gaping from the fucking Tom had given her. I could see his slimy, pearlescent semen ooze slowly from my wife’s love hole and trickle down the crack of her ass. The fragrance coming from my wife’s semen-filled pussy was overpowering.

"Lick it!" Terri demanded.

I hesitated at first, but timidly did as she ordered. I obediently lapped Teri’s pussy and asshole, slurping up Tom’s cum. More and more semen oozed from deep inside my wife as I continued my degrading task; it seemed like the flow would never stop. My wife and her lover laughed as I gagged and struggled to lap up and swallow his big, slimy load.

"That's it. Get it all,” Terri laughed at me. “Don't let any get on the sheets,"

Whether it is submission or humiliation, licking another man’s sperm from my wife’s pussy emphasized the impudent nature of what my wife had done. My future role in her sex life was made perfectly clear. My debasement could not be more complete.

Later that night I fell asleep on the living room sofa while my wife, of course, shared the bed with Tom. It was difficult for me to sleep. I was jealous and haunted by what I had witnessed; however, I took humble pleasure in being forced to worship my wife’s feet as she committed the act of adultery. There was no denying that Tom was a better man than me. My neglected, unworthy cock was hard and my balls were blue with denial. I needed relief and masturbated to mental images of my wife’s beautiful feet during her exhibition of infidelity. Within seconds, I exploded with a force I had not known in years.

I served my wife and her lover breakfast in bed the next morning. Teri and Tom lounged in bed most of the morning, snuggling and watching television, while I went about my assigned chores. As I was washing dishes, I could hear my wife in the bedroom, moaning with passion. From the squeaking sounds of the mattress and the headboard banging against the wall, I knew that he was fucking my wife again. After things quieted down, my wife called me into the bedroom and made me lick her pussy clean before they took a shower together.

As Tom was leaving, my wife made me kneel before him once again. She had coached me on what to say.

“Thank you for fucking my wife, sir,” I meekly told him. “She had a wonderful time in bed with you. Would you please come over and fuck my wife again soon?”

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