No Going Back

When my car broke down a half mile back, I thought this farm would be a good place to find some help. It’s a bit of a walk from the main road, but I eventually find evidence of civilization. There’s a host of farmers working in the blazing sun.

I walk slowly past them, they don’t seem to notice me. One man repairing a wall has his ass out, underpants clung tightly to them. His thick cheeks are plump in his boxer briefs, a sweat stain trickles down the middle. His butt sticks out just barely, almost in an inviting way.

My attention turns to a farmer working on some machinery. Only his lower body is showing from the front of the mechanical farm vehicle. His front pants buckle is undone, revealing a hefty bulge out in the open. It’s firm, like fruit ready to be picked. The platform he’s standing on puts it at the exact level to reach out and touch.

That’s when I see the last farmer tucked under a tree. His back is against the tree, his legs are spread. His feet are out. Socks off, boots off. It’s a strange sight, I find myself moving closer.

“Hello?” The man keeps his head down. I swear his eyes were open when I saw him from a distance. “My car broke down, do you have jumper cables?”

The shirtless farmer remains sitting in the grass. His hairy pecs are large from his tireless work. His feet are huge and thick like a bear’s paw. The man’s head raises to me, our eyes lock. “Sir?” He doesn’t say a word. His gaze moves down again, towards his feet. They’re so large, I realize I’m nearly on top of the man now. I had no idea I’d moved so close towards him. I look down at his meaty foot. My lips part at their beauty. I just want to touch…

“Ooooh.”

The rancher’s soles are shockingly soft. Like the smoothest warmest pillows I’ve ever felt. I run my hands over the wrinkles of his soles, something about them makes me feel so happy and fuzzy inside.

“Oooooh.”

I moan quietly again. The farmer’s mouth twists into a grin. He begins to chuckle. I should ask for directions like I planned, but first I want to compliment these incredible feet.

“Ooooo.”

My voice is caught in my throat. The farmer is full on laughing at me now. I hear one of the other ranchers behind me, “Another one already?”

“Ooooo,” My voice betrays me, “Ooo-oooh-oooh-“

“Mooooooo!”

I feel an orgasm building in groin. It swells to its apex almost as fast as the sensation came on. I’m about to blow a huge load. I feel two sets of burly arms hoist me and begin pulling me back. I watch as the big-footed farmer points and laughs as I’m dragged away.

“Mooooo!”

My cock is exploding with sensation, I feel myself about to cum as these two ranchers drag me across the grass. I see a thick pump of liquid launch from my cock, but I feel no release. Just pre-cum. Another spurt of pre flies from my cock and the farm hands kick the barn door open.

The stench of semen and sweat hits me immediately. I’m able to turn my head. I see rows of naked men, each drenched in sweat. They’re in steel chairs with huge electric pumpers covering their cocks. Each man has a massive cock, much bigger than I’ve ever seen. Their eyes are covered by VR headsets, soft moans come out of their lips. On a large board above their heads is written Ass Cum.

I turn my attention to the other side. More rows of men in chairs, back to back, as far as the eye can see. The warehouse corridors twist down for what seems like miles. The low roar of moans. This line of men has a sign with Cock Cum strung across.

I’m taken to a dim corner of the warehouse with a dozen or so men. A poster reading Foot Cum dangles above their heads. There’s two empty chairs on the far side, I’m brought to the closer one. I’m thrown into the chair by the strapping farm hands. Now I notice my engorged cock. Well over a foot long and as thick as a soda can, exactly like the men I passed on the way in. I feel it pulse and gush with pre-cum after every little sensation. One of the men straps my ankles and wrists, the other lowers a pump over my ultra thick cock. I cry out, but all that comes out is “Mooooo!”

A virtual reality set is placed over my eyes. The dim fluorescent steel of the warehouse is blocked out. Noise cancelling headphones go on, and the screen encompassing my vision flickers on. Big burly men with big meaty feet, all begging me to touch them. Their meaty feet grow and sway, hundreds of men and their hundreds of feet. I feel another gush come out from my cock. The pressure of the pump is replaced by the image of soles shooting out and stroking my cock. The warm feet suction to my cock like gooey suction hands, then pull away, stroking it slowly. Another gush of pre-cum, maybe even some actual cum, floods out.

I try to cry out for help, but the only noise to escape my lips is a soft “Oooooh” as the virtual feet blur my vision.

———

“Of course it does. You’re in our apartment, remember?”

“Oh yea, that’s right.”

A wave rushes over the apartment building. Framed photos of Mark wash away and are replaced with pictures of a muscular tradey couple. His graduation photo from his master’s degree now shows two burly men flexing. The sensible yet bland decor fade away, motorcycle memorabilia and Tom of Finland posters take their place.

“Why am I in your apartment again?”

“We put out an ad looking for a footboy and you responded to it. Isn’t that right, footboy?”

Mark hesitates, “But I don’t even like feet.”

The bigger man rubs one of his soles against Mark’s face. They’re so warm and big, like perfect pillows. “Oh no footboy, you love feet. You’ll do anything for feet. Wouldn’t you agree with that, footboy?”

The feet beside Mark’s face flex and wave to him, like a warm invite. “Of course I do. I love feet. I’ll do anything for feet.”

It felt wrong to say but he knew he wanted to say it anyway. Mark’s pants grow tight at the sight of the feet beside him. The original haze is now lustful, Mark’s tongue slips from his mouth and begins exploring the four feet. He’d never thought about men’s feet before, and now he was devouring them.

“Aw, what a good footboy. Aren’t you just the best footboy we’ve ever owned?”

“I am.” Mark’s eyes sparkle under their soles.

My boyfriend acknowledges me but doesn’t look up from his phone. I hear a Grindr ping and see his cock inflate in his pants. Mine pushes against its hard plastic cage.

“Dishes never got done.”

I find myself at the dishwasher. I feel his soles dominating me with every plate I put on the shelf. My cock aches with every failed attempt to get hard. He knows exactly how to keep me dull and trapped in subspace. I place the last fork in the drawer and return to him, hands behind my back. He ignores me for a few moment before looking up.

“Breakfast?”

Eggs are in a pan in seconds. He keeps his volume up so I can hear every message, even with the sizzling breakfast. He lets out a soft ‘Ohh fuck’ and I turn to see him gripping his cock through his pants. He stands and grabs his jacket.

“You can wrap that for me later, I have to run.”

He kisses me on the cheek then vice grips my balls, “This place needs to be spotless, I’m thinking of having company later.”

Only one moment stood out to me. When he grabbed my face. He held it in his hand and looked at me for a few moments. It felt like a test, or an inspection. But that was it. We hooked up, and then we were done. He told me to let myself out the way I came in.

As I walk towards his foyer, I pass a table. It’s cluttered with gear. A harness, gag, hood, cuffs, everything. In the middle there’s a note.

I deeply enjoyed our time together. I’m giving you the opportunity to commit yourself to me fully. Should you accept, put on every piece of gear and wait for further instruction.

I pause, was this for me? I couldn’t recall seeing it when I came in, so it must be. He didn’t say anything about it. I liked him a lot too. I feel fuzzy, I know I shouldn’t be so prideful knowing he picked me. A smile breaks out across my face anyway.

I grab the collar first and fix it around my neck. Next I grab a cage. The ring fits. So does the shaft. The lock clicks and I place the key on the table. There’s long bars connected to some straps. I figure they’re knee locks. I move everything to the floor so I can continue binding myself. Two sets of hinged handcuffs, I clasp one pair around my ankles. I sort the final pieces of the puzzle in front of me. First a hood, then the hand mitts, then the wrist cuffs. I take a deep breath and bind myself piece by piece. I lie awkwardly pinned to the floor and wait.

I keep waiting. And waiting. Not sure if time is moving faster or slower. My knees become sore. I try and shift my weight to my elbows but that hurts more. Has it been thirty minutes or two hours? The hood blocks all light, I wouldn’t know if night has fallen yet. Could he still be in his room? Did he forget? Was the note even for me?

A door opens. I silence my breathing. Footsteps walk closer to me. My heart races, my cock jumps a bit. And then the footsteps walk past me. I sit and track my breathing. I hear him in the kitchen. More time passes. I feel his footsteps move closer to me. He finally stands beside me, I don’t know what he’s doing.

When I get the urge to jerk off, I have to go until completion. Holding back isn’t allowed, I have to cum.

That was three weeks ago. I’ve already noticed changes in myself since then. The first is that I wait for him. I usually think about him or his feet when I’m horny, but now I don’t let myself get horny unless he’s around. I know my energy will be higher when he’s there, so I save it. I want to dedicate my load to his feet.

It doesn’t feel like an active choice I’m making. When I hear him come in my cock perks up. I run to the living room, he knows I’m coming. He puts his feet up and the floodgates open. It’s strange getting reacquainted to the feeling of my hand on my cock, let alone being allowed to jerk it. It feels so good. Too good.

Spencer circles around the table and sinks into the sofa cushions. He lets out a soft exhale. The couch is soft, if not a bit scratchy on his bare back. It felt nice to relax. Spencer kicks his feet up on the coffee table, the cold mirrored glass feels good against the heels of his feet.

Really good.

He rests his head back and closes his eyes, allowing himself to drift a bit. Some time would pass before Spencer woke up again, groggy. When his eyes open he notices something, everything around him seems to have a blue tint.

Something’s wrong. He attempts to lift his feet off the coffee table but can’t move. He finds his entire body is paralyzed. The only indication of Spencer’s underlying panic is the expression in his eyes.

His legs shift, moving on their own. One foot crosses over the other. Spencer’s arms come up and hands clasp behind his head, as if he was relaxing. A big grin crosses Spencer’s face. His mouth moves without him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you just wanted to lick my feet again. Is that what you want? It’s okay.”

He lures me closer with a wave of his foot. He looks at me commandingly, I understand his body language. I take his big toe in first, then stretch my mouth over the rest of his toes. He puts a hand on the back of my head and pushes me deeper. It starts to hurt, I can feel myself about to gag.

“This what you wanted?”

He pushes harder. Nearly a third of his massive foot is shoved into my skull. Tears well in my eyes. I try to retract but his hand applies more force. I moan in agony, looking up and seeing his stern expression. I gag heavily, his face stays stoic. A sharp moan comes out involuntarily. I feel my face turning red, my under eyes are wet.

He removes his hand from the back of my head. I dry heave and throw myself to the floor, bowing towards him. A heavy foot slams my head to the floor. He pushes harder until I feel like my brain is going to explode.

Your roommate here didn’t even have a foot fetish until I convinced him to touch my feet. Now look at him. I think you’re going to be perfect for me, there’s something so magical about foot thralls that had the fetish already. You said you didn’t want a commitment, but I’m telling you now, you do. You want to commit yourself to me fully.

But it was too late. Once James tasted Malik’s feet he was gone.

Once a man with a wife and kids, he befriended Malik at the gym. Something about his nonchalant charm stirred something within James, new feelings he hadn’t felt before. Malik, recognizing the expression of dozens of men before, made an offer to go back to his place. Poor James couldn’t think clearly, the innocuous request tempted him too much.

Something was off the moment they entered the apartment. James suddenly questioned why he was there, shameful of his decision to go with the man. Before he could announce his exit, Malik threw himself on a futon, feet splayed out.

They were… beautiful. James couldn’t think clearly, nothing about a man’s feet had ever stood out before, but Malik’s feet were all he could focus on. Malik was coy, acting as if the minutes of James trance were typical.

“My feet are killing me.”

Malik says it like a command. James obeys. In seconds he’s knelt at his feet, admiring. He doesn’t dare lay a finger on them. Malik flexes his sole, tempting James closer. His lips parts softly, aware of the subconscious desire James cannot yet admit to himself. Something within him screams to stop, his body continues.

He lays a subtle kiss on Malik’s toe, that’s all it took.

James had been written out of history. No family, no work, no upbringing. He would live forever in this moment. Stuck kissing, licking, worshipping Malik, a fate hundreds of men have succumb to before him.

“Thank you. And thanks for being cool with it. Goodbye.”

I stand at his door and hesitate for a moment before grabbing on the handle. I swear he can hear my thoughts.

“Kiss my feet one more time, as goodbye.”

I freeze with my hand gripping the doorknob. I turn around and stand in front of his feet. He’s waiting impatiently. I kneel and kiss one of his big meaty soles, “Goodbye.”

“Kiss both.” He pushes his other foot against my face. The rush of his foot against my face ignites something in me, my tongue falls from my mouth instantly and begins covering large areas of his foot, again and again. Before I know it his toes are in my mouth and his foots against my cock. All my inhibitions gone, he’s got me stuck in his trap. I’m lost in his perfect soles and feel something cold against my cock, along with his hands fiddling with my balls. I know what’s happening but I stay quiet, slowly lapping up his sole. I continue to kiss and worship while accepting my fate.

Click.

I come from the kitchen and stand near him with my hands behind my back.

“Kneel and stare at my feet.”

I kneel, and I stare.

“Housekeeping?”

“Done, sir”

“Other tasks?”

“Bathroom cleaned, suit at cleaners, sir”

“Dinner?”

“Cooking, sir”

“You workout today?”

“45 minutes, chest and triceps.”

He flexes his soles in front of my wanting eyes. I know he’s smiling, that makes me happy.

“I’m feeling generous today, so it’s your decision: 30 seconds of feet time or 30 seconds edging yourself.”

I immediately dive into his feet, kissing every inch. He leans in and rustles my hair while my greedy lips hug every shadow of his soles. Drops of precum leak from my cage. Once 30 seconds has passed he removes his feet and rests them on my back.

Close your eyes and inhale.

Allow yourself to be relaxed.

Shoulders down.

Now I’m really excited. Come kiss my feet while I take my shorts off. Yeah nice and slow. You’re so excited, that’s sexy as fuck. Fuck yeah. My foot on your cock.

…

Oh… uh..

…

It’s fine…

…