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He had many rules in his home, but he valued one above all: How to greet him

He was a very particular man, and we have had many discussions on how I should correctly serve him. Where his fitted shirts go after ironing, how he likes his eggs, what brand polish I should shine his shoes with.

The greeting ritual was most important to him, though. "A proper greeting is a respectful one" is what he always says. After many corrections, I've learned that how you greet your Master when he enters his home reflects the respect you have for Him and that home.

He warns me that he is arriving with three short vibrations on the remote-control plug I wear at all times. I drop what I'm doing, and rush to the front door, making sure I am wearing my arrival uniform: Cage and Collar, nothing else. I kneel and wait patiently until he opens the door.

Before the door is closed, I should already be kissing his boots. Three kisses, Three full seconds, both feet. (He loves his three's). Immediately after, he should hear a warm and enthusiastic "Welcome Home, Master"

I am then allowed to remove his footwear, and again kiss his socked feet three times, three full seconds each. After, I look him in the eyes, from my proper place below him, and ask "Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?"

This is an opportunity for him to give me a special instruction, or tell me to carry on with my duties.

I came back in the afternoon after a long day of classes. Finn was at his desk, chair turned to face the room. He had his phone in his hand and a smile on his face.

He didn't say anything at first. Just held the screen toward me.

He had found my blog.

My roommate has some really nice feet but he keeps socks on all the time. #feet #footworship #malefoot #pleasebesockless

"Well, I'm about to make your dreams come true, you fucking pervert."

I stood there speechless.

"You remember when I borrowed your laptop last week? You had your blog open, pervert. Did some digging after. You really are a horny little pervert. Makes sense now; thought it was weird when I caught you staring at my bare feet that one time."

I said nothing.

"It's okay. I wanna see how you worship them. Kneel on the floor."

I knelt.

He reached down and peeled his socks off one at a time, then extended his legs and rested his feet against my face. The smell hit first; warm, faintly sour. I hesitated, cheek pressed against his sole.

"Go on. You've been thinking about this for months."

He wasn't wrong. I started slow; lips against his arch, then more. He didn't react much. Just watched.

"I know you're hard. It's okay. Take your cock out and play with it."

I did.

"Good little pervert."

He looked down at me with that same smile.

"Look how hard you are. Yeah, stroke it. Stroke it to my beautiful feet."

He flexed them slightly, sole pressing warmer against my cheek.

"What do you like the most about them? Like what's sexy about them?"

"The size. The smell. Your soles. Your toes."

He raised an eyebrow, smile widening.

"Yeah? Keep going."

"I don't know. Everything. I've been thinking about them since we moved in."

"Yeah? Stroke harder then."

I did.

"Let me know when you're close, pervert."

He kept his feet on my face and watched me suck his toes.

"So you've been staring this whole time, every time I had them up on the desk."

"Yeah."

"And you never said anything. Just posted about it like a pervert."

I didn't answer.

"That's so pathetic. Faster."

I stroked faster.

"You ever come to my feet before? Like at night?"

I hesitated.

"Don't be shy now."

"Yeah."

"How many times?"

I didn't know how to answer that.

"Fuck."

He laughed.

"Faster."

"I'm close."

"Stop."

He took his feet off my face.

"There's something else. After I found the blog I made an account. Slid into your messages."

I looked up at him.

"You were very open with a stranger. 'I just want to find the right guy and be completely at his feet. Cook for him, clean for him, whatever he needs. Just let me worship them.'"

I hadn't moved. I couldn't.

He leaned forward then, bent down, and took my chin in his hand. Brought my face to within an inch of his. His voice didn't rise.

"I'll say this once. You're going to be my obedient little boy. Two reasons. First if you ever want to be near my feet again. Second you don't want some screenshots going around campus. Once I snap my fingers, you go clean my side of the room. I want it spotless. Keep your cock out of your pants as it is."

He snapped.

I got up and started. His side was the usual mess; clothes on the chair, stuff on the desk, shoes kicked off near the bed. I straightened all of it with my cock hanging out of my waistband.

Finn laid back on his bed and watched for a moment, then picked up his phone.

When I finished he glanced over.

"Bathroom."

I went. Sink, toilet, floor. And came back to the room.

"Order me some food."

I ordered. Then stood there, still exposed, waiting.

"Laundry. My basket's in the corner. Take it down the hall and start a load. Tuck your cock in before you leave."

I pulled the basket and left the room.

When I came back he looked up from his phone.

"Take you cock back out."

I did.

He nodded toward the small bin by his desk.

"Trash room's at the end of the hall. Shouldn't be a problem if you run. Unless someone sees you."

I took the bin and walked out, and then walked back in with the empty bin.

"That was fast, scared someone would see your pathetic cock hanging out?"

I didn't answer.

My phone buzzed. Food was at reception.

"Tuck in. Go get it."

I tucked in and left.

When I came back he was still on his bed. He took the bag without looking at me. Then he stretched his legs out, soles facing me.

"Get naked."

I undressed. He took a bite and nodded at the floor.

"All fours."

I got down.

"You know what's funny? You look completely natural like this."

He took another bite.

"Like this is just where you belong."

"Look up at me."

I complied.

He flexed his feet slowly and spread his toes.

"Say thank you."

"Thank you."

"Thank you, my King. Say it."

"Thank you, my King."

He smiled and kept eating.

"Get one hand off the floor and use it to fnish to my feet."

When the email first came from the university, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were chosen — you, the quiet one, the bookworm, the kid no one looked at twice. A three-month fully funded trip to Europe to present your research at top universities. Paid flights, paid hotel, paid meals. You even bought an extra ticket for your sister, already imagining her excitement as you showed her Paris, Rome, Berlin.

And then your phone buzzed.

It was him.

Your high school bully. The guy who used to slam your books on the floor, laugh at your presentations, call you every name he could think of. “Heard you got picked for that Europe thing,” the message read. “Congrats, nerd. You taking me, right?”

You froze. You’d already promised your sister. She was counting on this. But the way he wrote it — it wasn’t a question. It was an order. And you remembered that look in his eyes from years ago. The look that said: resist, and he’ll ruin you.

Two days later, you broke the news to your sister. She cried. You lied and said there had been a mistake with the ticket. And then you stood at the airport, suitcase in hand, watching him swagger through the terminal, sunglasses on, baseball cap low, grinning like he’d won the lottery.

Europe was never yours.

From the first night, it was his show. He claimed the hotel bed, tossing his shoes toward you with a smirk. “Polish ‘em,” he said, stripping down to his boxers and sprawling out like a king. You slept curled up in the armchair, your research folder tucked against your chest.

When professors emailed to schedule dinner, he had you cancel. “Dinner? Nah, loser, we’re hitting the steakhouse. Bring your card.”

Every meal, every drink, every stupid souvenir he wanted, it was either charged to the university’s stipend or to your own pocket. You didn’t argue. You couldn’t.

And then he started pushing further.

“You’re putting my name on that presentation,” he said one morning, lighting a cigarette in bed while scrolling on his phone. “Don’t care how you do it. Co-author, assistant, whatever. Make it happen.”

You tried to explain academic rules, ethics, the risks. He just laughed and flicked ash in your direction. “Rules don’t apply to me, nerd. Do it.”

And you did. You watched your slide deck — the one you’d worked on for years — show his name under yours. He snapped a photo, posted it on LinkedIn with a caption dripping with arrogance:

“Honored to present groundbreaking work in Europe. Hard work pays off. #Blessed #AlphaMindset”

His post exploded with likes, comments, praise. Your inbox stayed quiet.

Nights were worse. He sprawled on the bed, naked or close enough, scrolling his phone, barking orders. “Feet. Rub.” “Laundry. Hand wash. Now.” One night, he didn’t even ask — just crooked his finger, and you got down on the floor, like the old days in high school when you’d pick up what he dropped. Only this time, he didn’t stop you.

By the end of three months, you weren’t the university’s rising star. You were his shadow.

And then something strange happened.

Your research — the very work you thought he’d ruined — started getting noticed. Professors mentioned it, papers were cited, invites started flooding your inbox. You didn’t understand. You’d missed dinners, cancelled meetups, let opportunities pass. And yet somehow, traction.

Maybe it was him. Maybe his sheer presence, his chaos, his domination, had burned your name into places you could never reach alone. Maybe he was your curse and your blessing all at once.

Back home, the emails kept coming. And then one stopped you cold:

A one-year fellowship. Fully funded. Presentations across Europe, deeper research, a chance to carve your name in the academic world forever.

You sat at your desk, staring at the screen, heart pounding. You wanted to jump up, to scream, to tell someone. Instead, you turned your head.

He was there. Naked on your bed, propped against your pillows, scrolling his phone like he’d lived there all his life. He didn’t even look up when he muttered, “What’s the nerd stressing about now?”

Your mouth went dry.

Do you tell him? Do you risk making it his again? Do you dare to imagine this trip as yours?

Or do you accept what you’d begun to believe in Europe — that maybe it was never about you at all? Maybe he was the reason your work mattered. Maybe without him, without his shadow towering over you, you’d still be invisible.

Your finger hovered over the “accept” button. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, heavier than the bed he claimed, heavier than the years he’d owned you.

You hesitated too long. He noticed.

“Read it,” he said flatly, eyes still glued to his phone.

Your throat tightened. “It’s… it’s another fellowship. A year. In Europe. Fully funded.”

That made him look up. His eyes narrowed, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Another one, huh? Guess I really did fix your life, nerd.” He swung his legs off the bed, standing in front of you, tall and cut, his muscles hard under the dim light. He tapped his chest. “Go on. Tell me who’s responsible.”

You swallowed. “…you are.”

“Louder.”

“You are.”

“Damn right.” He tossed his phone onto the bed. “You think anyone gave a shit about you before I stepped in? You think professors even looked twice at your name until I plastered it next to mine? You owe me everything.”

And you knew he was right. You stood up, and before you could stop yourself, your arms wrapped around him. His bare skin was warm, his sweat salty, the smell of cigars and chlorine still clinging to him from the hotel pool earlier that day. Your face pressed into his chest, and something broke in you — the last piece of resistance, gone. He wasn’t just your bully anymore. He was magnificent. A force of nature. A man you could never match but would always need.

He let you cling for a long moment, then pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “Good boy. That’s the gratitude I expect.”

You nodded, breathless.

“This next fellowship,” he said, stretching his arms wide like he owned the room, “isn’t gonna be like this one. I got plans. Bigger. You’ll do your nerd shit, whatever, but the rest? That’s mine. My trip. My rules.” He paused, grinning. “Oh, and now that it’s a year-long, you can bring your family, right?”

Your heart skipped. “…yes.”

“Perfect. Bring your sister. I’ll take care of her while you bury your nose in books. Everybody wins.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t even think of arguing.

That night, while he sprawled back on your bed like a king, you sat at your desk and drafted the announcement for LinkedIn. Fingers trembling, you typed out the words:

“Honored to accept a one-year research fellowship in Europe. Excited for the journey ahead.”

You hit post. The likes started rolling in, the congratulatory comments. Professors, classmates, colleagues. The kind of validation you’d always dreamed of.

But when you turned back to the bed, to him lounging there with that satisfied grin, you realized none of it mattered. His smirk, his nod, his approval — that was your real validation.

Louis is one of my five roommates. We both go to the same university, but we rarely interact. He is smart and charismatic and spends his weekends in parties and trips. Every girl or gay list over him and his perfect body.

I too had a crush on him. Seeing him shirtless and sometimes almost fully naked would get me rock hard. It wasn't only that but also his feet. They were perfect, big, long, clean, soft... He's almost always wearing his flip-flops or resting them on the coffee table, showing his sexy soles and toes.

I was in my room once day when someone opened the door.

"I have some laundry here. Add them to yours and give them to me when they're done. Only if you don't mind, of course."

It was Louis, shirtless out of the shower with nithing but a towel on his lower body.

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Great!"

He threw his laundry to the floor and left leaving the door open. I froze for a minute and then closed the door and looked at the laundry left. A sweaty shirt and a pair of dirty white socks.

I was feeling my dick hardening, and without thinking twice about it, I started rubbing the socks all around my face, taking big, deep whiffs. I was fully hard in seconds, and my face was starting to smell like his socks.

"What the fuck you filthy freak!"

My heart almost stopped. I looked above and saw Louis standing before me. He was still almost naked, and he had something in his hand. I couldn't reply or say anything. I don't know what could I even say.

"Don't sit there with this stupid look on your face. I figured you loved submit and follow orders, but foot pervert shit?"

I was so humiliated. I've never felt so pathetic. I still had nothing to say.

"I came back to give you this."

He threw something at my face.

"It fell out of my hand when I was bringing them hear. Guess you'll like it too."

I removed it from my face and looked at it. It was his boxers. I held it with his socks in my hands and looked down.

"I want them all clean and folded on my bed tonight. We'll discuss this later. I'm meeting my friends now."

He left and closed the door behind him.

My dick was still hard from all the humiliation I felt. Without thinking about it, I buried my face in his socks and boxers. I jerked myself off and then let out the biggest load ever.

Now that I have jerked off, I can think properly again. I understood how fucked I was and how messed up the situation is.

I cleaned myself and then did the laundry. His orders were clear, and I wasn't gonna make him mad after what he just saw. I folded them and placed them neatly on his bed.

I went to my room thinking about everything. I was sure he would tell his friends and our roommates. He'll probably even beat the shit out of me...

I heard his voice in the apartment. Peaked through my door and could see him going to his room. I closed mine and sat on the bed. He gently opened the door and went in.

"Good boy! You like being told that, don't you? Guess I have a servant from now on. Do my laundry, clean my room, clean my dishes... anything else boy?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Please don't tell anyone."

"That wasn't my question. I asked two questions. Answer them."

"I... yes I like it. And anything you want... I'll do whatever you want."

"Good boy. That wasn't so hard. You will serve me from now on. I own you boy. You'll be my maid. I'll also give you what you really want... what would that be boy?"

"Your... your feet."

"Such a good little boy!"

"Now my feet are so sweaty... they could really use a clean-up."

He sat on the chair and propped his feet on my bed. His feet had some dirt stuck to them from the floor. They had a powerful smell, and they really looked like they needed a rub.

I started from his heels up to his soles and toes. Carefully cleaning them up and enjoying it. He was smirking and gently moaning as I licked his feet.

"Faster boy I have other things to do."

I went a bit faster, making sure not to miss anything.

"Enough for now."

[Check link below for more context]

"I got some amazing news to you faggot. You're about to reach the ultimate level of faggness. Your sister is fucking pregnant with my alpha son, your future master. Now go get me a beer so I can celebrate and come lick my feet clean."

You didn't hesitate to do as he asked, you were scared of saying anything especially since you saw him yesterday beat your parents up and force them to work overtime because their paychecks weren't enough for him.

You gave him his beer and started worshipping his feet.

"However I'll need a new pussy to use in the meantime. It'll definitely hurt, but you know that since her screams keep you awake when I fuck her. My 9 inch monster will tear your virgin pussy faggot."

You got afraid and stopped licking his foot for a second, ablnd before you realized his foot was stomping your face.

"You got scared pussy fag? You're a faggot, you should beg for my cock. Don't worry the same way I turned your whole family into my slaves I'll turn your hole into my pussy."

He stopped stomping and rested his feet again and you continued worshipping them.

"Maybe I'll make you the town's pussy next and have every alpha use you. You should be proud and honored for being treated like this faggot, others dream about being owned by me."

Their was nothing you could do. You didn't want to do anything, you accepted your fate as you sucked his toes.

"Thank you master."

You'll be inclined to step out of the way. He doesn't stop, so the fools who don't are often left bruised.

Ben makes every guy in the courtroom flinch, barking legal accusations with a booming growl, but there's one man he can't raise his voice at. There's one man he can't help but bow his head and fall to the floor in front of.

That man is Benjamin's little brother.

Devin is an unremarkable college dropout with half a psychology degree. He has little ambition and absolutely no work ethic, but he does have a natural talent for hypnosis: a talent he exercised often on his older brother.

Throughout high school, Devin hypnotically programmed Ben to be the most dedicated jock to exist. He wanted his older brother to be bigger than any guy he'd ever seen. Subsequently, Benjamin spent hours before and after school lifting as much weight and swallowing as much protein as possible. He swelled up into a giant mass of bulky muscle.

His muscles led the school to victory in football and wrestling all four years he was there.

Then in college, Devin began leaving hypnotic suggestions for his brother to memorize each law book by heart. His older brother needed to be the most powerful man as well, so Ben almost never stepped foot in his dorm room. He went directly from the library to the gym and back again.

It was the only thing he found himself capable of doing, and he only paused to collapse of exhaustion.

And now, Ben is a massively fearsome lawyer. Women and men scramble for his approval, but Benjamin's thoughts are pretty much gone. They've corroded from a lifetime of being a psychological meat puppet, so he continues to march around the city, completing endless gym routines and delivering perfect closing arguments.

Devin doesn't need the man to think.

The little brother just needs Benjamin to continue raking in the big bucks so he can continue to afford a luxury penthouse and all his other lavish lifestyle requirements.

The lawyer is hardly ever home since his little brother forces him to either work, work out, or sleep, but Devin occasionally has Benjamin stop by. The towering man sinks to his knees when he enters, dragging his suit pants across the floor as he mindlessly crawls to find his younger sibling.

"Master Devin, I've made you $280,000 and gained 16 lbs of muscle since you last saw me," he drones, kneeling inches away from his brother's tennis shoes.

Devin shrugs his approval without looking up from the TV, "Massage my feet while you're here, I guess."

"Yes Master Devin," the lawyer robotically answers with a deep pitch.

Benjamin unties his brother's shoes and slides them off. The stench is unimaginable since Devin rarely showers, but the strong attorney doesn't notice. A bad odor is irrelevant to an empty mind and so is the unpleasantly damp texture of his sweaty socks.

Ben's beefy fingers perform the same routine Devin had forced him to memorize, massaging the feet with a masseuse's expertise. Eventually, Devin grows bored and orders his brother to get on his hands and knees so he can prop his feet up. The lawyer, of course does what he is told.

"By the way, I want to go on European tour with a few models next month. You've made enough to cover it, but you'll work double overtime for the next four weeks just to be sure."

"Yes, Master Devin," Benjamin responds, a thin line of drool escaping his lips.

You chose to put the ad on a new gay website that your friend had told you about. Who knew? Maybe the man of your dreams would be just around the corner? It was worth a try.

You chose your best picture and put as many key details as you could think of. Good job, good neighbourhood, friendly, sane, sorted, pretty normal guy seeks a reliable lodger. What more could a sensible person looking want?

The guy who responded first was too young, fresh out of college, on a temporary job contract, too unsure of his future prospects. The second was too unfriendly - impolite, no manners, demanding lots of unnecessary information…no; something just didn’t appeal straight away. Then as soon as Number 3 came through, you just knew it had to be Him. His job was just listed as ‘freelance’, but that could mean anything, right? His message was pitched just right, the rest of His profile was too; His tone exuded confidence, without being over-arrogant…and okay…His pictures were nothing short of perfect. He had a stocky build, a devilishly handsome face, and His eyes were captivatingly charming.

You wasted no time, quickly responding, being sure to impress on Him that He seemed ideal. He seemed happy with the reply, and very interested, so you and He arranged for Him to come for a viewing the next day.

You spent the best part of that Saturday cleaning the floors and surfaces, tidying up the general clutter, making the place look the best it possibly could. Then you moved onto yourself, taking a long, hot shower, using your special soap and shampoo, finishing off with a shave, followed by generous sprays of your favourite cologne. You dressed smart-casually. An expensive black polo shirt, coupled with smart but tight-fitting grey chinos. You were ready…

The doorbell rang, and He announced His arrival. His voice was deep, sexy, and undeniably powerful. You buzzed Him in and told Him to come to your floor. You felt nervous but excited. You felt inside that something about this moment was just right.

He knocked, and you ran to the door to open it. “Don’t be too keen. Don’t come across as too needy,” you thought, so you took a deep breath and relaxed just a little. And there He was.

Not too tall, not too short. Button-down, short-sleeved shirt, open just enough to get a good eyeful of the top of His pecs which were encased and bulging out of the well-fitting check material. His biceps filled out the sleeves, and His jeans similarly left little to the imagination! You were noticeably taken aback by this Adonis waiting to walk into your apartment, but tried to remain cool. He didn’t smile but wasn’t unfriendly. He shook your hand, firm grip, decent posture. You introduced yourselves. You signalled for Him to come in and He already said that He really liked the area and that His first impression of your tastefully decorated entrance and living room was exactly His taste too.

You gave Him a tour, explaining this and that. He made the right noises, complimenting your choice in kitchen cabinets, His future mattress, and the stainless-steel rain-shower in His bathroom, to name just a few.

Once His tour was complete, He said He definitely wanted to proceed. You were undeniably delighted, a big smile across your face. You invited Him to take a seat on the sofa, suggesting you could talk a while to get to know each other better, and you offered Him a drink in the process. He gladly accepted and moved over to sit down.

You went over to the kitchen and opened up the fridge. “Beer, wine, or something stronger?” You asked without turning around…“Beer” he replied, no ‘please’, yet not coming across as rude.

You shrugged as you grabbed two and went to the drawer to fetch the bottle-opener. You removed the caps, and turned around…

Whilst you had been busy, He had certainly made Himself at home! His shirt was off and He motioned for you to come over.

Startled, you hesitated slightly. An innocent viewing had suddenly turned into something very different! It had been a long time since a topless hunk had been between these four walls, and such a handsome one, probably never! You took a breath, recomposed yourself, and decided to go with the flow.

You walked back over to the couch, trying your best to keep your calm. You held out His beer, He took it, and you went to sit down on the armchair with yours. As you tried to go over to it, He took you completely by surprise:

“No, listen, I think your place is quite clearly on the floor from now on.”

“What the f**k?” You thought. “What the hell was this muscled stranger on about?”

“Umm…what exactly do you mean?” You replied, trying to sound confident, at the same time also conveying your shock. You presumed He was leading to asking you to give Him head. It was a little bit forward and unexpected. No. You were right to seem surprised.

“What do you mean, Sir?” He replied, a new air of authority enhancing His gruff voice and attitude. “Say it back…”

You looked at Him, perplexed and puzzled. He remained unfazed.

“Repeat after Me. What…do you mean…Sir?” He repeated.

“Was this guy for real?” You asked yourself. It didn’t make any sense. Should you follow His orders? This was far from any male-on-male encounter you had ever known or experienced from hereon in!

He reacted quickly to your lack of understanding: “Disappointing.” He added a look of displeasure covering His face. His eyes looked angry for the first time, and His body language seemed very different all of a sudden.

You decided to ignore the last bizarre few minutes and went to sit in the armchair, as you had intended. You looked at Him, wondering if you had let a perfect psycho into your place, and therefore into your life.

The atmosphere became very awkward. He sat there topless, not saying or doing anything, let alone taking a sip of His beer. His anger had turned into a complete lack of emotion. But damn, He was still so sexy. You felt an urge to break the ice. You spoke:

“Look, I’m sorry. I have no idea what just happened. It makes no sense!”

“You said to have a drink and get to know each other. Well, living with Me, I wanted to give you an idea of how it would be. I’m not kidding around. Don’t you like what you see?”

“Hell yeah. You’re so damn hot. Your body’s fire! And you seem like a great person to boot. I was so happy when you answered my ad and that you seemed to have loved the place. It’s just the last few minutes have been very strange. I have no idea what you mean or want exactly…”

“No, of course you don’t. I went a bit too fast, I apologise. Let’s just carry on with that conversation, for now. Take your shirt off too though. I want to see my new landlord in all his glory, okay?”

That sounded a lot more reasonable. Without questioning it further, you followed His suggestion. It did feel so good to be getting intimate with Him. There was undeniable chemistry, despite the strange moment which now seemed to have passed.

“You’re right, that feels better.” You said, sipping your beer and trying to reinsert a relaxed feeling in the room.

“You’re right, that feels better, Sir.” He replied. “Say it back.”

As he uttered these sentences, He looked directly into your eyes. His were so deep, so mesmerising, you forgot what was going on nearly entirely. It was rare for you to abandon control of yourself, but the authoritative tone, coupled with His Alpha physique, and His arresting gaze, and the effect of the alcohol, all meshed into one and a tangible shift occurred. You could feel it, and you really believed that He did too. Suddenly He softened again, and it was like a weight had lifted. You found yourself saying, much to your disbelief:

“You’re right, that feels better, Sir.”

As soon as the words left your lips, you were dumbstruck. “Seriously, what the F had just happened?” You panicked. He, on the other hand, suddenly had such a handsome grin across His face. As if He had orchestrated the whole damn affair and was taking pure delight in your confusion, followed by your (Freudian?) slip.

“Very, very good.” He exclaimed. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it, boy?”

“Boy?!?” Your mind was lost, listening, but not believing. Had you let a deranged lunatic into your home? What was happening? Trying to fight was met with a weird yet comforting desire to let go. This man didn’t seem like a classic manipulator, nor an evil person. He just seemed to know exactly what He was doing, thinking, and saying.

He looked on as you said nothing and tried to process everything that was happening. He still seemed unfazed. No, in fact, He seemed completely at ease, or even ‘at home’, if you will.

“That’s good, boy. Sir will take care of everything from now on.” He launched in. He clearly felt that His entire grip on the situation was, from now on, in full effect. You felt confused, but not scared, and also unable to do anything but keep listening.

You found yourself nodding, still unaware of what exactly your mind and body was thinking and doing, but equally unable to stop.

“Very, very good, boy. It really is time for you to get on the floor, now.” And with that, He clicked His fingers and pointed at the bit of carpet in front of Him.

It kept on being a blur, but your ability to analyse the craziness of the situation had well and truly been erased, temporarily or otherwise. Before you knew anything else, you got back up from your chair.

“Master is very pleased.“ He continued. “You’ve made the right choice. Good boy.”

When he uttered the words ‘Good boy’ something tingled down your spine. Nobody had ever really shown you such downright praise, in such a pure and frank way. He saw the effect it had on you, and He smiled.

“Come here, boy. Get on your knees.” And you did. “Yes, that’s it. On your knees in front of Me. And look at Me. Look at My Alpha face. Look at My Alpha body. You’re a real catch. But from the moment I read your message, to the moment I walked into the apartment, I just knew, through and through beta energy if ever I saw it. There’s chemistry between us, undeniably. There’s something special. But I am telling you, you’re destined to be with Me, at My feet, and as My sub. Tell me, is this making any sense, boy?”

As He pronounced His words, His gaze bore deeply within you. His eyes drove into yours. His energy transferring from Him to you. The shift in dynamic kept intensifying, and intensifying, and something inside you felt helpless to do more than listen, follow His direction, and agree. So you nodded.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, Master. Yes, Alpha.”

“Wow! You have picked that up tremendously fast, my boy. You knew just what to say without me even telling you any more. I’m so happy right now. You are going to make Me, no, you’re going to make Us, very proud. I just know it. We’re about to enter a relationship that you have probably never experienced before, so I am going to need you to trust me. Can you do that, My good boy?”

“I hope so, Boss. I really do.” You replied. Never in a million years would you have believed that you would be there, in that situation, in your own apartment, agreeing to go forward with a M/s relationship with a near-stranger, centering around such a type of kink that had never even come across your radar before. But here You both were, and here it looked like you were staying.

“Good boy,” He said, patting you on the head. “I promise I will take care of you, and treat you right. Better than anyone else has before Me. This can go really well, if you just do what I say, don’t question, and let yourself go so you can enjoy the ride. Can you do that for me, boy?”

Instead of replying, you just let out a sort of ‘Mmmm’ sound, it felt so nice to let go to this perfect Man, with His perfect energy, and you found yourself nestling into His legs, from down there on the floor, as you did so. It sounds strange but nothing unusual felt like it was occurring within you. In fact, it already felt so normal.

“That’s My good boy. Now go get Master the rest of the pack of beers. Then you can settle down as My footstool while I turn on the TV and relax in My new place. How’s that sound?” As He said these suggestions, He kept stroking you as one would a puppy. He seemed genuinely like a caring Man about the place who knew just what needed to be done. It felt unnatural to do or say anything other than agreeing. So off you went, extracting the rest of the pack from the fridge…

By the time you got back to the sofa again, He had removed the rest of His clothes, all except His underwear. He demanded that you place the beers next time and strip down as well, He would stay in boxers for now, but you would be naked, though you could keep your shoes. With the way this evening had been going, you chose to keep obeying Him, and did so right away.

“Good, obedient houseboy.” He said, more gruffly than ever. “You’re already exactly what I had in mind for you. That really didn’t take long. And that really makes this Alpha Master Boss so happy. All that’s left to do, is to get down on all fours and show Me how much you really are capable of becoming My footstool. I promise you’ll love it. Have I been wrong so far tonight, boy?”

“No Master, no Sir. You certainly haven’t. Thank you for being in Your new home. Thank you for opening my eyes up to new possibilities. I don’t know what’s happening, but all I want to do is obey You.”

“Good boy. I promise that’s exactly as nature intended it. Sometimes Alphas like Me just know when a beta crosses Their path. And with you, I could tell instantly. Anyway, enough talking for now. You’re going to be My little footstool. And objects don’t talk. Haha!” With His chuckle, He lifted His big, manly feet into the air, and was clearly waiting for you to get underneath them.

Without further ado, you got on all fours. From the moment you were down there, underneath Him, something inside felt like it completed you. And from the moment His feet made contact with your back, everything just felt so right. It was incredible to think just how quickly this evening had developed, and just how quickly you had melted into His Alpha gaze. But it just didn’t feel necessary to question anything at all from then on.

What’s more, this decision was doing more than just making you feel comfortable. In fact, it was making you feel so very damn aroused. Before you knew any more, your c**k was growing into a semi. Was your new Master aware? It was pretty hard to hide, given that you were naked in front of Him!

He surely must have been aware because He started rubbing His feet up and down your back. The more friction that took place, the harder your 🍆 became. He still wasn’t talking, instead He kept looking at the TV screen. But He knew what He was doing.

You were there as a human pouffe, so just as He said, you knew better than to say or do anything. You wondered how long He would keep you there, getting harder and harder. You decided to dare a look up at Him. Then you saw that He was just as hard as you were, albeit encased in His tight briefs. And what’s more He was touching Himself. He, the Alpha, was enjoying the special first moment of bonding as much as you, the beta, were also unexpectedly doing so!

He looked down and saw that you were looking at Him. He tutted a bit: “Naughty foot-stool, looking up at Me. You should already know that’s not allowed. My good object boy, already being bad. This won’t do!”

With that He instructed you to roll over so you were on your back. Now you really were scared, and regretted deeply giving into your urge to see what He was doing. However He seemed unfazed still. He was also still touching Himself, as He swigged the last drop of beer from Him bottle. He placed it on the table and proceeded:

“This is what happens when My beta footstool looks at me without asking.”

Now, with you on your back, He placed His big soles over your face. The feeling was utterly sensational. It was one thing having His Alpha paws resting on you. Now here they were, engulfing your face. You breathed in, you smelt His odour. You breathed out, your d**k ached with excitement.

“Look at just how much My beta footboy loves Master’s feet in His beta-face. Sir knew the effect this would have, immediately!” He said, also sounding more intense. Before you knew what was happening, He pulled off His underwear and stood up to tower above you. His erect p*n*s was enormous, Alpha through and through. It was a decent length, but also so girthy. A perfect Master c**k. Full stop!

He kept on jerking and kept pushing His soles into your face. He said he could see how very dearly you loved feeling so small down there beneath Him. He said it turned Him on greatly too. A good Alpha knows just how to make a good beta feel so electric. Having said that, you had just been a bad one, so what was about to happen?

In fact He started a countdown. He said He was getting close and told you to speed up, or else. You once again obeyed. It would have been madness to do anything but. Were you about to orgasm under His feet? With His Alpha soles on your face? Was that His idea of punishment?

10…9…so very hard, Master too…hard to hold on…but you knew you had to.

8…7…being Alpha’s beta was so f**ing good. Wow. What a crazy night.

6…5…Master pumped hard, so did you, the blood was rushing, there was no turning back.

4…3…Master groaned, you moaned, shouted you couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Hold it, foot-beta foot-stool. You must.”

2…I’m trying Alpha, trying so hard…

And then as He uttered “1”, He swivelled His left foot over to your crotch area. He stomped down onto your 🦴 hard, kicking away your hands. He then swivelled His right foot around too so that His c**k was hovering over yours.

The whole thing happened so fast that you had no time to keep up at all. And you were so on the edge that you also didn’t even really care too. You forgot that you were still supposedly being ‘punished’ and just let whatever needed to happen, happen.

As He then shouted “0” He exploded. His Alpha seed went all over your crotch. It was warm, it was runny, it was such an amazing feeling to have His seed go over you. And pretty symbolic that it was over your ‘man’hood.

However, just at the same time as He came, His left foot that was on your p*n*s pushed down immensely hard. You were ready to explode simultaneously with Him, but the force stopped you from doing so. The orgasm you were expecting to experience simply got quashed from riding up. You still came on His left sole, but the pleasure alongside the ejaculatory bliss was stopped from happening, by Him, deliberately. Once or twice you had stumbled across ‘ruined orgasm’ on a porn site, but thought it was just for select kinky oddballs. Haha, clearly not, as one had just been enforced on you!

He laughed as He saw the confusion on your face, turning into realisation.

“And that’s what you get for being a bad foot-stool, my beta landlord footstool!”

Wow, He was actually pretty sadistic alongside having mad designs on His sexual scenarios. But you didn’t care. You had fallen for Him, and you told Him so. You apologised for looking at Him without permission and promised you would ask Sir correctly from now on.

Pleased with your response, and clearly happy with the way everything had gone that evening, He instructed you to clean up His sole as He manoeuvred Himself to dangle it over your mouth.

You were a bit horrified for a millisecond. Prior to tonight, anything non-vanilla would have been a total ‘no go’ for you. But hey, tonight had been so unexpected and crazy, yet so enjoyable, so you said, “Yes, Sir. Absolutely, Alpha.” And proceeded to lick your beta juice off His meaty paw. He said in His gruff tone that you were back to being a good boy again. He stroked your hair, and your chest, and made you feel safe as you licked away.

Waves of pleasure came over you for a second time as you stepped further into being His footstool, and clearly now His foot-licking cleaner too. The surges grew more frequent and powerful. He grabbed your 🍆 and started jerking it vigorously. The arousal level was now totally insane. He knew exactly How to touch you and how to complement His dominant foot position with the expertise of a milking legend. And before you knew where you were, He had started a second countdown. This time just from 5.

Before He even got to 2, your d**k came again, His sole in your mouth, His hands stroking you as His new property. He seemed to take delight in controlling you as His own. And you were helpless to do anything but be His ragdoll or puppet.

His sole was soaked with your saliva, His hand was coated in j*zz. You were both covered in sweat, and you lay there for a moment with Him sitting above you, looking down and on at you. You almost could have called the way He looked at you ‘loving’.

“Right, let’s go and get cleaned up, shall we?” He proclaimed suddenly. Clearly the fun-time was up for now. He decided. You didn’t feel any desire to object.

“Come here now, object. Wash your Master while He gets under the showerhead. As a special treat for the first night, you can sponge yourself with the same sponge and water coming from me after each time you sponge me off. Deal, boy?”

“Oh wow, yes, thank you so much. After what just happened and now this. I feel so damn lucky and happy.”

“As you should, My good boy, as you should.” He replied.

…4 weeks later…

In every room in the house, and during every part of the daily routine you Two developed together, you effectively became His butler, His servant, His footslave in waiting, all the while remaining His willing human furniture too, of course.

It should have been so humiliating, being objectified, owned, and subjugated by your new Alpha owner in every way buf in fact it led to a feeling of such comfort, such safety, such a sanctuary, as if it always was the only place nature had intended for you, a beta, to be.

Comfort and arousal quickly became hand in hand. So comfortable under Alpha’s feet. So damn turned on. Every evening, once He was on the sofa, and you were at His feet, you got so excited and so achingly rock-hard. Your anticipation time dwindled fast. And your 🦴 started prem ejing simply at the mere contact between His soles and your skin.

That’s why He decided to introduce the new chastity rule. You, His beta, shouldn’t be freely erect, freely enjoying yourself, freely being your new, unadulterated self, quite so readily.

He demanded that you become His locked foot-slave. Said He knew exactly what was best for you. And He had been nothing but right so far. So you willingly agreed.

An extra layer to your already completely asymmetrical relationship was added. And lo and behold, He was right on the nail.

So there you were, on the floor, having given up all control of your place to this alleged stranger. You had done so willingly. From the moment you brought Him His beer, everything had changed. You lay there on all fours, considering the last four weeks, you wondered how exactly He had known exactly everything you had secretly craved and desired. And that was it. You loved your new life! No more need to question. No more need to do anything except obey and serve.

From the moment He awoke, you made Him coffee, toast and eggs. You both took a shower together. He waited for you to sponge His godly physique. You washed with the His dirty water. You went to work, He lounged around and then went to the gym when He chose. You came home, He was there waiting for you to get in. His legs were out stretched. You got on the floor. You felt doubly at home within and without. It had all developed so fast, since that initial viewing. Your life changed forever, at that point from thereon in.

Now He controlled everything, He called the shots. Your 🦴 depended on His feet. The M/s relationship was well and truly cemented, and you could do nothing but go further down the rabbit hole. When He chose, you could get unlocked. When He choose you could jerk off all over His feet again, just to lick every last drop up again afterwards. But otherwise, it was all about His pleasure, His ease, making His life better.

Your productivity at work soared, you got promoted and were able to buy that new car. The only difference was that it wasn’t actually for you any more. Nothing was. Your Alpha Master Boss took the driving seat, quite literally, and quite figuratively. And you enjoyed the fruits of your labour in the form of His fulfilment. Some might call it strange, others, even bullying. But this domination, this power exchange, and this surrendering of your own self was all totally different. You were living out a fantasy that you never knew you wanted. You were realising a dream that you never imagined existed. It was crazy, it was incredible, and it was so very real.

At the end of the day, you had never experienced pleasure like that of living to serve your Alpha Male. His body, His mind, His presence. Everything about Him made you feel special, blessed, and so turned on.

He felt some compassion for you, so he offered you a consolation price; his feet.

Once a month, He allows you 10 minutes at his soles, a chance you took eagerly.