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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2022956
Rated: 18+ · Other · Adult · #2022956
Haley decides it's time for her feet to get the worship they deserve, one slave at a time.
Part 1: The First Slave
         Haley finished her daily running workout and sat down on the bleachers next to the track, as she did every day. A boy named Connor she vaguely knew of from school was seated there as well, only he was sitting on the lowest level of the bleachers and she two seats higher. Connor had also just finished running, and he was seated, resting as well. Haley had her feet on the seat next to him, confined in a pair of white ankle socks (turned almost brown by dirt and sweat) and a pair of running shoes that had truly seen the worst her feet had to offer.
         Completely exhausted, she said, "My god, it's hot out here. My feet are sweating like crazy. Hey you, could you take my shoes off for me?"
         "Whatever" Connor muttered, thinking it an odd request from a near stranger as he removed the shoes, moist on the inside with sweat, to reveal disgustingly sweaty and soiled socks.
         "That's much better" Haley murmured, then after a pause, "I would really like it if you could rub my feet for me." Connor refused at first, shocked and somewhat offended that this girl he had never even spoken to would even propose such an idea. She asked again though, nearly begging him to do it. Noticing Haley was quite attractive and thinking he might have a potential date on his hands, he gave in, getting down on his knees in front of her to begin the degrading task.
         The socks were soaked with sweat, and Connor's hands were wet from the very beginning. He rubbed and massaged them for several minutes, following Haley's instructions hesitantly as he went. After about 5 minutes had passed, Haley sighed and said "Now I want something new. I want you to lick my socks." Connor jumped to his feet, appalled by the thought of it. "I'm not licking your feet!" he shouted "What do you think I am, your foot slave or something?"
         "That's exactly right," Haley remarked, a devilish smirk now crossing her face. "You're my pathetic foot boy, and you will do what I say when I tell you to."
         "This is outrageous!" Connor yelled, "I'm getting out of here." He turned to walk away, but Haley caught his leg with her foot and he was sent sprawling to the ground. Before he had a chance to get up, Haley jumped on his back and dangled her right foot, still in the dripping and disgusting sock, in front of his face, yelling "Lick it!!!" When he refused, she moved her left foot onto the back of his head and dangled her right foot directly in front of his mouth, all of her weight crushing down on his skull. He almost immediately stuck his tongue out and began to lick, the sweat mixing with his saliva and making a horrible new substance, worse than anything he had tasted in his entire life. She relished her victory for a few seconds, before slowly removing the pressure from his head and returning it to his back. "So now what will you do when I ask you to pamper my feet from now on?" Haley asked the broken boy.
         "Obey you," he gasped, "I will obey you. Just please don't step on my head like that ever again."
         "Well that much is entirely up to you," Haley taunted, "And how well you obey my every command."
         "So what now?" Connor questioned, worried his face might be presented to his her feet again.
         "Now you leave and don't tell anybody of what happened here today." She instructed, "And if you do, or if you choose not to follow any of my commands, then I'll tell the entire school that you cornered me in the girl's bathroom and raped me. I might even report you to the police if you make me mad enough."
         "You can't do that!" Connor yelled, afraid that she might actually go through with the wicked plan.
         "Why not? Ill tell my friends and it'll only spread from there." Haley crouched down, still on his back, and whispered in his ear, "Who are people going to believe, sweet innocent Haley, or the boy who rejects the accusations, like anybody would?"
         As much as he hated to admit it, she was right, and unless he wanted to be a friendless creep who spends his years in detention or even jail, he would have to obey her when she called upon him. Haley got off his back and placed her shoes back on her feet.
         "You'll be hearing from me soon," She said ominously, as Connor got up and turned to leave, "And you had better be looking forward to it." she said, turning and walking away, laughing at the pitiful boy's defeat.

Chapter 2: Under the Desk

Bzzz bzzz
         Connor lifted the phone from his desk and looked at the unknown number. Opening the message, his stomach does a somersault and his heart practically skips a beat.
‘My feet are waiting’ is what the screen says.  It could of course only be one person.
‘How did you get my number?’ he quickly replies. ‘And what exactly are you expecting?’
‘Less question, more action.’ Then soon after, ‘Or you know what the consequences will be’ He stared at this message for a moment and let out a deep sigh.  The next message included an address, and it finally hit him that he couldn’t just ignore the threat.  Connor headed for his car.
         The address led him to one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city, the roads lined with houses of a size nobody could truly ever need.  He followed the road up a hill to the end of a cul-de-sac, and looked up at the monstrosity of a home that must belong to Haley.  He parked his car on the street two houses away, and walked up to the wrought iron gate that stood at the end of the driveway.  He pressed the intercom button and waited for Haley’s voice to crackle out of the box: “Front door, up the steps and make a u-turn to the right,” was all she said.  The gates swung open intimidatingly.
         Connor proceeded to the front door, still marveling at the size of the house and wondered what Haley’s parents must do for a living.  It was equally as lavish inside, with enough posh excess in decoration to stack up to any home in the Hamptons.  The door opened to a grand double staircase foyer, elaborate tile patterns on the floor, and art, plants, and instruments visible among the furniture in the rooms to either side.  He quietly padded up the right staircase and turned to the right as instructed, seeing a door open a crack with music heard from within.  The boy slowly approached and knocked gently, the door swinging open a bit as he did.
         “Ahh, there he is,” he heard from a mouth out of sight.  The room had a large canopy-style bed extending from the wall to the left, with a door just to the left of that.  A large TV hung across from the bed, with a small table beneath.  Two windows on the wall opposite the door shone light in, with a tall hutch between them.  Straight ahead and to the right, past the TV was part of the room that jutted out further right, but he could not see around the corner until he approached.  When he did, he found a desk against the far wall, with a third window above it, this one offering a view over the entire neighborhood.  The alcove was lined with bookcases built into the walls, and Haley sat comfortably in the center, seated in a luxurious office chair.  She wore a loose fitting grey cotton sweatshirt cut in the way that made it hang from one shoulder, with three quarter sleeves and yoga pants.  Her brown hair was in a bun and her face as stunningly sculpted as ever.
         She turned toward him, “It’s about time.”
         “Sorry, first time in this neighborhood,” he offered.
         “Well I promise it won’t be your last,” she said with a malicious smile.  “Now I believe you have a job to do, little slave boy.”
         This last part felt like a stab to Connor’s chest, but he held back a wince and stood still, not knowing how he’d be completing the unavoidable reason he was there. “How… how am I to serve you?” he stammered, incredibly nervous already
         “Well you simply have to crawl under my desk and do a lot more of what you got a taste for at the track.  If you’re a good boy, you may be rewarded and if not, well let’s just say it’ll either be your head or your reputation that’s hurting.”
         “Okay” Connor muttered, approaching slowly.
         “That’s another thing,” Haley said confidently as he got down on all fours and began to clamber down to the position. “You’ll be calling me mistress, goddess, really any term that captures how pitiful you are compared to me.”
         “Fine,” Connor again murmured, but when an angry look from Haley was shot in his direction, he quickly added, “mistress. I will do so, mistress.”
         As he crawled under, Connor was instructed to lay on his back, and Haley’s chair was designed in such a way that the wheeled base slid over his body, holding him in place.  He finally took notice of what Haley’s footwear, a pair of furry boots that looked like they would be worn almost exclusively around the house, not out and about.  He could already smell them.
         Haley waved them in front of his face, flexing her ankles back and forth.  The bottoms had shorter fur, but smelled much stronger now that they dangled above him.  They suddenly dropped and rested on his face, closing off his sight and smell of the outside world. The odor was different from what he remembered at the track, less skunky and more like an aged cheese.  He did nothing but continue to breathe as best he could and strands of fur tickled the inside of his nose on each inhale.  He heard a voice from above as the feet began to life one at a time and pat back down against his skin in an alternating right/left pattern.
         “How do they smell, servant boy?”
         “Like you filled them with cheese and left them in the sun for a week.”
         “Really, you think these are that bad?  I thought I’ve been pretty mild in building this scent.” The feet continued to pat up and down, giving Connor slight whiffs of fresh air that served only to make the boots worse in comparison.  “I went to the clubs last night with my girls and we danced our asses off until about 2 AM.  High heels aren’t easy on a dancing girl’s feet, and mine were pretty tired and sweaty by the end.  I came home and put on one of my favorite pairs of warm, thick, fuzzy socks and then pulled on these boots for good measure before going to bed.  So you really only have one night’s worth of stink to deal with today.”  She switched to rubbing both boots against his face, left and right alternating forward and back. “You may remove the boots now.”
         Connor furrowed his brow at the thought, but slowly reached up and took hold of the left boot, pulling but having difficulty as his fingers slipped across the fur.  Managing to get his fingers around the upper edge and pulling, the smell magnified tenfold as Haley’s sock was revealed and the boot’s pent-up stink was released.  Before he could even get a look at it, the sock raised and pushed the boot in his hand against his face, his nose deep into the opening.  Connor’s eyes began to water and he tried to hold his breath to avoid the fumes, but it was a fight he was bound to lose.  When he thought he couldn’t hold it for another second, the boot was mercilessly pushed away.  In a moment of joy, he inhaled through his nose an mouth as hard as he could, but the relief was not what he hoped.  By the time his lungs began to fill, both mouth and nose were covered by the thick sock, and all he got was more of the heavy odor straight to his nostrils.  Connor gagged a bit, and coughed a few times, then heard Haley’s laughter from above.
         “Mmm don’t you just love that smell?” she taunted, wiggling the toes against his nose.  The socks were striped with tan, cream, and pomegranate red colors, and were quite thick and fuzzy as she had said.
         “It’s very strong mistress,” Connor replied as the sock lifted and he was able to speak.
         “Well you’re only half way to completing the command,” she teased, a pleased smile crossing her face.
         Connor reached for the other boot and prepared himself for another stink bomb to be dropped on his face.  Direct hit.  Again a wave of scent washed over his face, and heavy was really the best word he could use to describe it.  With the boots away, Haley rubbed her socks against his face faster than before, but stopped after only a few moments and looked down.
         “You may begin to pamper me now, starting with a nice massage,” she instructed, matter of factly.  Connor actually had a bit of experience with this, an ex of his worked part time at a nail salon and had half-jokingly taught him the finer points of an effective foot massage.  He took the left foot in hand and began at the ball of the foot, pressing his thumbs in and moving them in rhythmic circles across the area. “Ooooh, not your first rodeo?” Haley asked from above, her attention partly turned to her computer on the desk.
         “I suppose not, mistress.”  He continued to press circles into the ball of the foot before moving to long, straight-line patterns down the sole and arch.  He resumed the circles at the heel before moving to the toes and rubbing each one through the thick sock.  At times he could hear Haley let out low sounds of pleasure, not moans but “mmmm” was common as he worked his fingers against the fuzzy fabric.  In time, he continued to the other foot, giving it the same attention and trying to remember the deep tissue and pressure point methods that he had been taught.
         Without notice, the socked feet extended from his hands and reached again for his face, massaging it for a moment as Haley laughed and asked “How do they feel?”
         “Like a pair of stinking socks on my face,” was all she heard in reply.  This wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and knew an attitude shift was necessary if this were to work out.  She changed her strategy, resting them with Connor’s entire face covered, his nose stuck squarely between the soles.  Minutes passed and Connor’s mood began to change.  He felt imprisoned, like his entire consciousness was pent up between these feet.  Haley didn’t say a word and didn’t move the socks.  Connor could breathe, but only the stench that surrounded him filled his nose and lungs.  As he lay there, anxiety began to build.  What had he gotten himself into?  Did this girl really have the kind of leverage she claimed over him?  How long would he be here today, and how often would be asked to come back?  All these questions swirled in his head and seemed to multiply as the minutes ticked by.  Haley could feel him quiver beneath her, and smiled knowingly.  Even more time passed and Connor felt increasingly claustrophobic, and confused, and distressed, finally hopeless until suddenly, a switch was flicked in his head.
         ‘It’s only as bad as I make it,’ he thought.  ‘I can fight it, I can hate it, but neither of those matter now.’  Connor concluded that resistance in the face of this opponent would only lead to escalation, and decided to play along for the sake of leaving sooner and enduring less of the still torturous footplay.
         Haley had felt his shaking sock, and waited to see what his reaction would be.  The answer came in a feeling she was planning to demand next.  The unmistakable stroking of a tongue at the sole of her sock.  She smiled, knowing that it had worked.  She had broken the boy into some level of submission, and had only one more thing to take from him before the day’s objectives were completed.  She repeated her last question, “How do they feel?”
         A different answer this time as Connor tried to string together words he thought she would want to hear: “Like a soft embrace of a goddess.”
         “Mmmm well I guess that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?” A very pleased Haley cooed from above.
         “Yes goddess, how does the licking please you?” Connor asked, Haley unable to see the definite reluctance in his face below her feet.  As he finished lapping at the soles of each foot and moved to other areas, she replied.
         “Quite good, slave boy.  Like you anticipated my next request.”
         “Should that not be my goal?” Connor improvised, knowing it was indeed his objective and putting up the front that he was many times more willing than he actually felt. 
         “Of course it is, now finish the licking and I have a special treat for you.” Haley disclosed.  Connor thought it likely that he should dread the treat rather than look forward to it.  His licking continued, swirling wet circles into the heels and taking toes into his mouth as Haley pressed them in, instructing him to suck lightly at them.  His tongue began to grow dry as it made all parts of both sock bottoms wetter than they already had been with sweat.  The taste was not as bad as he expected, but was still not a pleasant one.  As his mouth became almost completely dry, Haley pulled her feet back and rested them on his chest lightly, rolling her chair back to stand over his legs rather than his lower torso.
         “It was a rough start, but you came right into the fold where you belong, servant.”  She patted the socks up and down a few times. “Now for the treat I mentioned, a reward for doing so well on your first day.” She smiled and shifted her feet, Connor not able to believe as they drifted between his legs.  Pulling down his shorts with her toes, Haley began to rub her socks against either side of his manhood through the boxers he wore.
         Connor was more confused than ever now, not having believed she would ever be one to grant him pleasure, particularly this kind.  “Mi… Mistress?” was all he could say.
         “Shhhhh… it’s a reward you deserve,” she said, but the expression on her face was still one of cunning and control rather than showing any sign of respect or empathy.  As the boxers began to rise, she was able to more adeptly manipulate the shaft, her toes rubbing up and down against the bottom face.  With it standing at full attention, she pulled the boxers down with her other foot, hardly missing a beat in stroking from base to head.  She quickly changed position, squeezing the shaft from all sides between her soles, the socks still saturated with sweat and saliva.  Connor wanted to be full of questions, to wonder if this was a good idea, to deny her control over this part of him, but these were not the signals activating in his brain.  Pleasure pathways were busy as the socks slid up and down, up and down, a soft, wet respite from what he had been through in the last hour.
         Again she changed positions, with one foot stroking while the toes of the other began to play exclusively around the head of his dick, swirling in fuzzy circles around it and tickling the tip.  The rubbing continued as Connor began to breathe more heavily.  His hips flinched and he was fully focused on his cock, not noticing the look of absolute fiendish delight that Haley stared down at him with.  She rubbed harder and faster, moving the toes from the head to his balls and rubbing them a bit before resuming the squeeze between the soles.  Pre-cum dripped out and was instantly swept up in the furry motion and Connor’s hips began to flinch more and slightly buck.  He was close, but as he neared the edge of release, a sensible thought finally crossed his mind… ‘What the fuck is going on?  Could this really be the reward for service?’  The hesitation was drowned out in a flash as Haley added a rhythmic pulsing of her toes to the stroking action.  It was all too much for Connor to process, and the thought and smell of her socks filled his head as cum raced for a final release.
         Connor’s whole body tensed up and quivered as he began to shoot streams of semen, but they didn’t land on Haley’s socks.  The moment she sensed the orgasm starting, she produced a pair of boyshort-style black panties and pulled them over her socks, positioning them to catch the cum.  She manipulated her feet expertly as he shot numerous wads all over the panties, finally relaxing the muscles of his body as the last one dribbled out.  She made sure to scoop this bit off as well onto the black fabric, and then reached down to pinch at a clean corner and lift it from her feet.  She dropped the panties in a waiting Ziploc bag and set them on the bookshelf next to her.
         “What… what just happened?”  Connor managed, his head still spinning from the orgasm.
         “You got a sockjob, slave.  And shot your cum all over.”  Haley said with a triumphant but somewhat devious grin, resting one foot on his lower torso and crossing the other leg.
         “Why the panties?” he asked, reaching to pull his boxers up and hide his member as it softened.
         “Blackmail of course… This is America, and as fucked up as things have been lately, you’re still innocent until proven guilty.  You just provided the proof is all.”
         “What? Wait. What?” Connor was at a loss for words as the dots were connected.
         “I could have accused you of assault and rape without any evidence, and that might have made for a big story around our school, but in the end there was no proof.  Now I have the panties you allegedly made a mess of as you fucked me in the girls’ restroom.  Forensics are amazing these days, they’ll be able to pull your identity from those white stains for years and not be able to tell when it happened.  So you now have a concrete reason to keep me pleased, more than a baseless threat.”
         “I… I…” Connor still couldn’t believe what had just happened, and the position he had put himself in, now worse than ever.  The anxiety he felt under the socks returned with vengeance, and he felt lightheaded and overwhelmed.
         “Now, now.  No need to fuss, this doesn’t change anything.  It’s just a little contingency for me to have in my back pocket.  You were my slave before you blasted your fat little load, and you’re still my slave after.  You’ll have to work much harder to earn these rewards from now on, but since I have what I need, it really will be for your enjoyment and not my own reasons.  I really hope I never have to use those panties, but it’s entirely up to you.”  She wheeled back to the desk and began typing again.
         Connor lay there, feeling like he had just had the life sucked out of him.  He thought over and over about how this might not be as bad as it seemed, but couldn’t come up with even one reason why that would be the case.  He was fucked.  Her feet fucked his cock and now he was fucked.  He didn’t see what else he could do but head home and try to resume his day, and maybe come up with a plan to get those panties on a return visit.  Having lay there for a few minutes, he finally cleared his head enough to ask, “So can I go?”
         “My feet are quite pleased so that’s all the mandatory work for today, but they could always use more attention if you care to stay.”
         “I actually think I’ve had my fill for the day.”  He said resignedly, an easy claim when literally any contact with Haley’s feet was more than enough for the day in his mind.
         “Fair enough,” Haley said from above, wheeling away to let him get up off the ground.  “Let me show you something before you go!”
         Connor stood and didn’t want to see anything else in this house, all he wanted was to get home and try to forget about what had happened.  But Haley sprung over to the door beside her bed and opened it to a large walk-in closet.  She continued to the far wall, where a raised platform supported a 3-way angled mirror similar to those found in dressing rooms and tailor’s shops.  Bordering the mirrors on either side were vertical arrangements of short wooden drawers, each no more than 4 inches tall.  A very comfortable looking seat was to the side, and it appeared to be able to swivel to a position above the platform.  Haley stepped up before the mirror and began to open the drawers, bottom to top.  Connor came closer and as they were opened, he found himself looking at row after row of neatly folded socks.  Some drawers were full of bright solid colors, arranged in rainbow order, others had striped socks or exclusively ones with patterns.  The organization was almost unbelievable, with countless pairs varying from over the knee length to no-show half-socks and everything in between.  Thin nylons, thick boot socks, two whole drawers of fuzzy ones like Haley wore now; the variety was greater than that which Connor knew existed.
         “This is my collection, and you’ll get to know it very well,” Haley said as his eyes continued to scan.  “Some days I’ll let you pick what I wear and other times I’ll have been stinking up a pair for days just for you.  You should be looking forward to this, an endless variety and constant new ways to please me.”
         “Yes, my goddess, it will be my pleasure to bow and submit to each and every pair.”  Connor wanted nothing more than to get away from this place as soon as physically possible, and thought this the best response to make that happen.
         “Good.  Now pick a pair and you are dismissed.  Connor went to a random drawer and pulled out a random pair, red and black and clearly having more fabric than ankle socks.  He handed them to Haley and turned to leave as she inspected them.  “Quite an interesting choice, I’m very pleased,” she said with a smile.  She swiveled the chair to position in front of the mirror as Connor continued on the way out.  “Make sure you keep an eye on your phone, never know when your next assignment may be.”
         “Of course, mistress.  Good day, mistress.”  Connor didn’t even turn around or break stride as he said these things.  All he could manage to do was wonder how long he would bow before this dominating personality before it broke him even more.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2022956