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Knowing Thyself

by Logan Ice

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I ended up being the first one at the motel.  

Which to be honest wasn't any surprise.  I knew I had to be here early.  Not that I wanted too, and it wasn't just because the place was a dump.  This was the kind of situate you'd see off the interstate, you'd never take a second glace passing by.  All the cars in the parking lot were out of state except mine.  Children screamed outside, playfully running amuck, back and forth from a family staying in the room above.  They were suddenly silenced when the door thudded shut behind me.  

As I pocketed the door key I could still hear the muffled clopping from the balcony.   The room was nothing like the photos I had researched online.  The crisp walls that were featured in bold subtext "newly painted" were faded.  The ceiling had cracks, the wood molding along the floor looked like it was coming apart and the air was stale.  The carpeting was coarse, and an ugly dark green and blue pattered.  Splotchy stains marked the corners and around the bed, spots where surly a cumbersome floor cleaner couldn't reach or the lazy attendant never bothered.  

I was not calm, quite the opposite; heart beating out of my chest, I could hear each tha-thump in the center of my brain.  Walking to the TV I grabbed the remote which slipped to the floor.  My hands were too clammy to get any grip.  I decided to not bother picking it back up.   I'm not in any mood to watch anything.  A lump seemed to form in my throat and I can't swallow it down.  What am I supposed to do?  Just wait?  Wait for him to come?  It wasn't too late.  It could have been just one big prank.  There was a single large king size bed that took up most of the space in the room.   Moving to the edge I took a seat.  The sheets were thick, and clean at least.  I can smell the fabric's fresh starch.  

My gaze lingered back at the bed, wondering how I'd be using it this evening.  No.  Leaving wasn't an option.  He already knew way too much about me.  

It wasn't like I hadn't tried finding out his identity was when I checked in.  Franny, as the yellow and bold black lettered name tag indicated, was the front desk supervisor.  She was no help.  When I sounded like I was apparently going to give her trouble.  The overweight broad just stared me down with her thick green eye makeup, and a cocked pencil drawn eyebrow.  

"Sir all it says here is that you and a guest..."  Her voice lingered. "Have a night ordered in one of our single rooms.  It's room 143B.  It's just out the doors, to the left and around the corner.  Here's your key."   

"C-can't you just tell me who put the deposit for the room?  I know you were told I was coming, who was it?"  My voice came out shaky.  

"The room was booked by another we have here, but according to this you called in and placed the deposit sir."  

"I didn't - what?"

Her thin peach lips pursed tight and her fine, dyed mustache hairs sprouted up.  Lifting her sheet she showed me.  "This is your invoice sir."  

A shiver crawled up my spine as I stared at my own name, my personal information, and my checking account number.  

I gulped again.  That lump still won't go down.  Looking up the bathroom had its vanity and sink outside the door.  A large paper cup was wrapped in plastic, and getting up to it I freed it with shaking hands.  Opening up the spouting tap I got a good half fill before coughing down the coppery tasting water.  

When was he going to be here?  What time was it?  Turning I blinked looking at the electronic clock on the side nightstand at the side of the king size bed's headboard.  7:50p.m. ten more minutes.  It was in front of the display though that my gaze lingered.  On the table next to the yellow lamp, what was that?  

I walked up and reached for the small device.  Next to it was a yellow post-it note.  The device looked flesh colored, smaller than a dime, and had a weird oblong, triangular shape.  Turning I saw a mushroom clear wedge.  I looked at the post-it reading its fine pen message.  

"Wear me?"   

I turned the device over a few times with nimble, careful fingers.  Then easing my hair back from one ear I lifted the device and fed the clear end in.  It fit snug.  

There we go.  I thought I was going to have to call your cell phone!

I nearly topple over, one of those moments where you jump a foot in the air and your legs give out.  I braced my hand against the wall while cupping my heart.  It pumped under my palm.  Grasping the bed then I pulled myself up.  A tremble crawled down my spine while my heart felt like it wanted to leap out my throat.  This was it.  I had had it.  This was ending now!  

I reached a shaking hand and tucked a fingernail at the device.  "Ahhh ahh ahh.  Hold it right there Marky boy."  

"Wh-who's there?  WHO ARE YOU?"  I lowered my hand.  

"There's no need to shout.  I can hear you just fine Mark."  

"Who are you?"  I repeated.

"Who's asking?"  The voice responded evenly.

I shook my head and walked back towards the edge of the bed.  "I am.  You were on my computer, you have pictures of me, and you stole from me."  

"Take a seat Mark."

"Answer my question damn-it!"  

The voice got firm.  "TAKE A SEAT."

I felt my passion boil, but still shaking I lowered down on the edge of the mattress.  

"Good boy, Mark.  Just relax.  You'll need to be calm for your guest."  

"You can see?"

"Hallelujah!"

"Ass, I mean you can see in here."  I looked about the room.  There was nothing conspicuous or particularly eye catching about the motel room.  I leaned down at the edge of the bed.  The large older box television at the front of the room ahead had a combo VCR/DVD player box below on a separate shelf.   There was a digital reading of the time there that looked like it was covered by glass.  "You've got hidden cameras set up here."  

"I do, and if you snoop and find them I'll text everyone on your cell phone contact list the gratuitous pictures I've got of you."  The voice was suddenly snapped.  A solid threat as I knew all too well what he meant, having received a couple texts from the photos myself.  A raw pang of fear welled up.  My heart hurt from over exertion and fingers clenched the bed sheets.  I clenched my eyes as they started to burn and stifled a dry heave.

"Boo boo boo, none of that now.  It's not fun if you cry."  

I remained silent, and breathed through my nose.

The voice went on.  "I'm just fucking with you.  You've done everything I've told you too.  Hell just to show you I'm not that bad a guy, I'll even be up front and candid.  There are multiple cameras in the room, getting all kinds of entertaining angles.  Each can see in night vision, and every one is recording your every move in HD.  And yes one is inside the VCR set ahead of you.  Another is in the alarm, and a third is above your head in the light fixture.  There are precisely three more but to be honest being recorded is nothing you shouldn't be used too."    

"Why me?"  I asked aloud.  Eyes still closed.  Before any sign could be seen I wiped the back of my hand against each corner of my eyes before opening them.  

"You're beautiful."  The voice crooned like svelte.  It was calm again which only came off as creepy.   "Because I can and because it makes my dick hard seeing you in such a predicament.   A cute little cub like you, please, you thought you were so coy jumping on that adult camera website.  Thought you would entertain the big boys?  A strong plump chest like yours, a tummy that knew MccyDee's a little too well, and a big fat dick to boot, all on display while a chat room full of guy's who'd worship the ground you walked on begged for more like dogs.  Well I don't beg."  


I gulped knowing what he was talking about, experimenting with my webcam for the first time.  The raw unnerving fear welled down, and became replaced with an annoyed curiosity.  Was there a way out of this?  Trying to feign being coy I looked about.  

"You think I'm beautiful?  That I don't get often."

"Well you're no A-list starlet, but you are very cute Mark."  

 "I provided you a show."  

"That you did, but I wanted more.  It's why I traced your IP address, and why I remotely turned on your webcam.  I wanted to see how you beefed it when no one was looking.  I got to admit you don't disappoint.  Your dick leaks like it's a faucet."  

I could feel my cheeks glow with embarrassment.  It seemed whoever was watching me could sense so much as well as his voice turned coy, almost gleeful at his obscene descriptions.  

"The way you'd just have at your meat and piston like an ape.  Most guys thumb and two finger their piece.  You?  Your whole palm just wraps and pumps.  Each time you finish is my favorite part too, you just lick it all clean like a kid finishing off a maple syrup pancake breakfast."

I could feel the burning in my eyes weaken and I lifted back up off the bed.  Going back to the sink I poured another glass and swallowed it down.  My cheeks were burning hotter.  I knew I had to get out of this, get out of this creep's clutches.  Turning back to the room I looked about, unsure which general direction to face.  "You're good with computers."  

"Very."  

"Find someone else."  

"Well in a way I did.  I mean what time is it?  7:55?  Someone else is, in fact, coming in just a couple minutes."  

"I mean I don't want to do this.  I'm not gay!"  

"You know I've seen the material you look up.  You could fool me."

"I'm not gay!" I got louder.  

The voice sounded annoyed.  "What does being gay have to do with anything?"  

The question lingered.  I looked about, first at the digital alarm, then the ceiling light, then the VCR.  "What?"  

"What does being gay have to do with anything?"

"It -It has everything to do with this.  It's precisely why you have me here."  

"No.  What I have you here to do is to succumb to some of your more primal desires for my viewing enjoyment."

"Stop it, I'm not a faggot!  You're blackmailing me."  

 "Don't you EVER use that term!"  

"Blackmail?"  

"No, blackmail, actually, very adequately describes what I'm doing to you.  What you will never say again is that evil derogatory word, 'faggot'.  I'd much prefer you use the term cum swallower, pole sucker, or pillow biter."  

There was no sense in the voice's tone that he was joking.  He just went on.

"I know what you've been looking up when you think you're alone Mark so no more lying to me.  Any who since we are getting close to show time I want to make a few things perfectly clear."

I suppose I wore the dark expression on my face a little too well.  The voice tried to sound enlightening.  

"I know you don't think so but I am actually looking out for you with the most benevolent of intentions."    

"Fuck you."  

The voice went on.  "There are three things that I would like to make known.  One is that I understand this is all new.  I will guide you through this evening.  You will follow each and every explicit detail I utter.  When I say it, how I say it to the best of your ability.   If you are unable to comply despite your most dutiful attempts you will not receive retribution, but if I sense you fail to follow my orders by lack of trying there will be.  All the same to follow this first and most important rule, is your goal and all will be well."

"You're a bastard."  

"I know.  Two is your arriving partner is under the impression everything is wholly amicable.  Lock, stock, and barrel.  To reiterate Broderick is just a year older than you and at 25-years-old he is a true beef-cake.  He is a second year senior and is varsity on his college's football team.  The chap isn't anything too bright, but the statistics I've read say he is a great athlete.  Must be why despite his poor GPA he's still riding a full scholar ship.  Anyway I've checked it out and everything is as he described to you during your Craig's list correspondence.  He really is 6'5, 280lbs of heavy beef cake material.  I can only imagine what it will be like, pulled into his mountainous chest, to have his brawny arms wrapping you all safe and sound in tender heated embrace."  

"I'm not gay!"  

"Shuuush!  Again not while I'm talking.  His vehicle is literally pulling into the building now."  

Nervously glancing at the door I began to pace the room back and forth while the voice bore on.  "Broderick is from a heavy religious family.  He may appear to be the all-star jock with it all, but as he told you the poor soul has never been with another guy before."  

"I haven't either!"

"Which is why I stress his assumption of amicability, he understands you are a closeted and frightened of other's finding out."

I paused my pacing and furrowed my brow.  "There's nothing to find out."     

"You and he are two guys who've never enjoyed another male's touch.  Society has dictated both your entire lives that how you feel inside is a sin, and today you are both going to break that barrier.  He is going to wrap you in his masculine linebacker arms, and both of you are going to become free men!"

"I don't want that!"  

"You do."  

"I don't."

"You do.  Believe me, you will most certainly wilt like a dainty Delilah, like a southern Tennessee flower in July, when his great big football playing hands cascade down your body, and he breathes in your ear that he wants to make you his woman."   

"Shut up. You don't fucking know me" I felt aggravated and my voice got loud.  My hands balling into fists they were shaking.

"I know you more than you know yourself.  In fact I'm willing to gamble our entire future on that once caveat."  

I fell silent.  

"This is the third thing, and while I regard this as the least important, I'm sure you'll indubitably consider it the most.  I will leave you at the end of this evening.  You will never be threatened, coursed, communicated too, or blackmailed by me, and I will feed $5000 into your checking account if you don't ejaculate at least three times tonight."   

That statement hung in the air.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding? ... No, I am joking there, I realize you can't see me.  Moving on, nothing but the sheer willpower that you don't want this will be your only tool.  Even if you want to let loose a little bit, it will be fine.  You will make no attempt to stop advances towards you.  If you are as every bit the straight shooter you claim to be, then you've nothing to fear.  All the same you will play this game or Grandma is the first person I'm sending my cache of high quality naked Mark jpegs too."  

"I'm not going to cum once."  

"We shall see.  Now put on a big smile.  They're here."  

"Smile..." I said aloud, sardonically.  The door's lock started on its own, and turning towards it I saw the lever pull down.  Opening out a large body of someone I didn't recognize stepped in followed by the familiar face from the internet.  

TWO of them!!

Broderick was exactly as our correspondence detailed.  Wearing a large pair of sneakers, dark grey sweats and t-shirt that stretched over his frame, the baby faced brute was natural ginger.  Freckles speckled his face and arms. His orange hair was shaved to an army crop top but he did allow himself have a healthy grown, reddish brown, goatee.  His size was hulking, offset only by his charming boyish face.  I couldn't help but smile as he grinned at me.  His shoulders were broad, and his mountainous pectorals and biceps naturally rolled as he let himself in.  Stepping inside his brow ridged up looking about the condition of the room.  He notably brightened up as padded his giant frame over and whacked a heavy mitt on the side of my arm.  "Hey there, Mark!  Thanks or getting the room.  Are you ok?"

I gasped having to stop myself from rubbing my arm.  The kid would pull a punch.  "Ye-yea, I'm fine."  

Broderick frowned and returned his hand to the spot he whacked.  The massive palm pressed and rubbed.  "Sorry just a little excited."    

With a shaky exhale, I breathed back in.  His touch felt warm.  He was wearing body spray that still didn't seem to mask his natural stink.  It was obvious he'd just come back from practice, and tried to cover up the fact he didn't shower. "I know what you mean.  I-I guess I'm a little nervous too."

Broderick smirked while a thick voice rolled out behind him.  "Daw, there is no being reason for fear."  My gaze extended past to the door.  Lingering in the entry way was another one.  It's hard to imagine any guy being bigger; thicker than Broderick, but lingering in the doorway, before stepping inside was another giant.  

Broderick looked back and nodded.  "Hey I know last time we chatted I said I'd be bringing another friend with me.  This is Pasha."  

There was only supposed to be one.  The voice, my controller, hooked us up from Craigslist.  The friendly ginger and I had texted back and forth for the past week about setting this up, but there was no mention of a second guy.  As if answering my confusion that devious voice in my earpiece seemed to chuckle as he explained.  "I've got remote access to your cell phone.  Last night after you went to bed Broderick texted he had a friend who was out of the closet, and wanted to know if he could bring him to help guide you two.  His friend, of course, is a giant Russian foreign exchange student.  He speaks 3 languages, is one of the top defensive tackles their team has ever seen, and he led the varsity wrestling team to nationals last year, in the heavy weight division of course.  Who was I to say no?"  

The door hit shut as I took the taller guy's frame.  His flesh had a darker, olive complexion.  His black hair was hidden from a backwards wearing baseball cap.  Thick black eyebrows, a long chinstrap goatee rounding his wide face; his lips were full, plump and wide.  He licked them wet while the corners curled into a grin.  I felt as if I were being undressed as his gaze looked me up and down.  From his massive build if I were told he was a gorilla masquerading as a human I'd have believed it.   How he stretched his grey sweat suit suggested as much.  I wondered if it was the largest size offered.  The pliable grey fabric looked taut around his thick gut and weighty chest.  Thudding foot clops, and he closed in.  Broderick side stepped and the Russian accented behemoth drew up, unnervingly close.  Kind eyes and a full grin gazed down.  "Well look at you.  You are being a cutie pie."  

"See I'm not the only one who thinks so."  

I felt a heated blush start to emerge.  Pasha's voice was full of warmth.  I was not used to hearing people say that about me.  Stepping around, Pasha raised his hand.  I had to fight reflexively flinching as the back of his sausage thick knuckles caressed down the side of my cheek.  His deep lazy accent had me feeling confounded with my emotions.  "Ole 'rick tells me, you never got to experience anything with guy before."  

Inhaling his Axe body spray I nodded truthfully.  "Yea, I haven't."  

"Place your hand on Broderick's hip."  

I hesitated suddenly angry at the voice, while Pasha seemed to go on.  "You are a little nervous then, da?"

I closed my eyes thinking about what I'd spend with five grand.  "Nervous?"  I managed to come out. "Naw, I'm not."  Easing hand and I gently placed it on Broderick's side.  $5000 here I come.

He seemed caught off guard by the gesture, blinking back shocked.  He must have felt a little out of place as it seemed Pasha took the lead.  His boyish curt smile curling into a bigger grin he eagerly reacted and stepped in.  I tentatively felt along the fabric of his t-shirt.  I could feel the warmth from his frame on my finger tips.  My heart was beating as my palm lowered to the hem of his sweat pants.  He let out a low internal groan, almost like a growl.  I offered a smile back. The red haired stud was so smooth, soft.  

Why was it so hot in here suddenly?  

Both large frames seemed to close in on either side as I broke my fingers inside the hem of his shirt and rubbed his smooth skin.  He let out another audible groan.  Pasha was breathing solid behind me watching while Broderick's hands rose.  His thumbs hooking inside the bottom of my shirt, both his hands more eager, slipping inside against my bare back; he pulled me in for a passion embrace.  Tilting his wet lips, he leaned and planted them on mine.      

Embarrassed, scared, the colossal ginger's muscled chubby body smushed itself onto mine.  His mouth slurped on in a soggy kiss while his examining palms, rubbed my back's bare flesh.  God those hands were huge, the palms felt like hot rubbery pillows.  It eased my shivering frame.  His tongue, lacquered with ropey saliva parted past his mouth and licked over my clenched lips.  Again his tongue rolled out teasing the corners of mine, before dragging across.

"Aw, that's no fair.  Mark" The devious voice sounded evil.  "Broderick is trying to give you a nice kiss.  Be a good lamb and surrender."   Mentally I could sense I was.  The room was spinning, I didn't want this, I also didn't want to fall.  Both arms raised and hugged Broderick back tighter.  I wanted his support.  Did the A/C break, it felt too hot!

My heart fluttering the thick brute growled once more, passionately.  Lovingly tenderizing my body, I gave into the advances.  My lips parted and his oral limb, the long dripping slug fed itself in deep, dominating over my tongue.  Long spoonfuls of saliva seemed to find the crooks of our gnashing lips and leaked down.

Behind I could sense Pasha gliding in.  His warm girth of his stomach and chest contoured on my back and his weighty gorilla palms eased along my hips.  I could hear him breathing dark, and heavy behind my left ear.  My hips bucked, flinching at the feel his hands around to unbutton the fly of my pants.  There was no protesting.  The muffled sounds I was making were sloshed out by the drawing spittle that seemed to well up inside my mouth.  I knew much of the warm goo was Broderick's.  Gulping, it felt like a cup of the warm cough syrup slide down my throat.  

"That red head is eating out your mouth like a rock star going down on virgin groupie."  

The pull of a zipper sounded.  I could feel my pants providing the slack as two hot slippery mitts pressed inside.  I nearly bucked up, ticklish as fingers found the hem of my briefs.  I bucked my hips again at the drawing sensation of them sliding against each side of my loins.  I was trapped between two gigantic males, studs at the apex of brawn and masculinity.  Broderick closed his hips on mine, while Pasha's wide hips came from behind to entirely press on my rear.  I could feel their tenting arousals growing by the second.   Their grindings started gentle enough, but Broderick seemed to start, getting into it.  Getting the que, Pasha picked up his heavy ass grinding as well, and soon both beasts dragged and sawed me back and forth.  Their fat protruding erections, ground against me from both sides, as we three rocked in an obscene fashion.

The passionate horny beasts they were, both sets of ape-like mitts tenderized my flesh, feeling along my thighs, hooking down the curve of my ass.  Both brutes seemed to enjoy squeezing each of my cheeks.  Even Broderick mumbled about how nice it was, which acknowledged by gripping each globe and mashing them firm.  Pasha seemed to growl behind my ear.  His thick lips closing behind my earlobe even to bite playfully.

I didn't need to imagine how vulgar, how obscene it must have all looked.  The voice took much glee whispering precisely such information.  "Oh shit, you are being devoured by them two.  Like a goldilocks getting caught between two bears.  Their hips are forcing you to rock back and forth like a damn metronome."     

This was happening so fast.  Audibly I whimpered causing Pasha to laugh quietly behind me.  His mammoth side its grip and collected my soft member and tenderly kneaded along it.  His other hand reaching lower to cup and hold my ballsack in his oversized palm.  His biceps and forearms held secure around my chest, he kept me pulled to his frame while Broderick eased off finally from our kiss.  Tendrils of saliva drooped and fell.  "Hold on a second."  He mumbled quietly.  

Turning around he kicked off each of his outsized sneakers.  I saw as he peeled off each dark wet looking sock and likewise threw them casually, he then grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it up, off his frame.  His wide built back came into view.  His body really was rolling with muscles.  They protruded from his broad freckled shoulders, and rounded each of his fat biceps.  Turning around his fat pectoral slabs bounced good-naturedly and barefoot he stepped close.  

Something caught me off guard though.  With his shoes off the thick, funky foot aroma filled the room, which I found myself smelling.  I wasn't the only one who noticed.  Behind Pasha seemed to audibly smirk. "Damn 'rick.  Your dogs are ripe."  

The ginger giant blushed and held an arm up, exposing the deep set cave of a red arm pit hair.  "Yea I know.  Worked out before I came here, but I didn't bring a second pair of socks with me.  Kind of had to show up in my workout shoes, I can open a window or something."  

"Naw, that isn't being a problem.  I think our cutie pie, Mark here is enjoying it." "

Broderick stole the quizzical expression from me as I suddenly realized Pasha was gently gripping my now very erect shaft.  SHIT!  When did that happen?  "Nnnghh, no wait, hold on..." I tried, gripping the Russian wrestler's forearm.  It was all useless as, he wouldn't budge an inch his fingers surrounded my tip and raked down the shaft.

"Little cutie pie here was all soft, was worried this was all mistake until thick man smells fill the room."  

Broderick smirked while I could hear the voice in my ear piece laughing.  "Hahaha, oh my.  Cutie pie Mark, is that all it took?  Ask to message the ginger's feet."

"No."  I breathed low.  

Both Pasha and Broderick paused looking at me in a surprised expression.  The voice that came out the ear piece sounded dead serious.  "You have no choice.  This is being recorded, and it will find its way to your parents and friend's email accounts.  'Broderick I'd like to slurp and worship your feet.'"

I gulped, and threw back another faltering smile.  My eyes were watering, this time from the foot smell.  "Broderick dude, I've gotta worship your dogs man.  Can I have em?"  

Pasha rumbled approvingly behind my hear, his hand resuming his gently pumping motions on my shaft.  Broderick, who looked perplexed with a raised eyebrow, looked down at his feet then back at me.  "You want to worship them."

I gulped and nodded.

Pasha started from behind.  "Go on and lay back on bed, 'rick.  It takes courage to ask for something as such.  Is very common, eh fetish, for young subbing cutie pie's like Mark here."  

A part of me appreciated the giant Russian's encourage tone, but being called was I just called submissive?  

Broderick only nodded, coming close to me.  He seemed to have a proud strut, rocking back and for the, swaggering proud with each step before plopping to the edge of the bed.  The springs squeaked under his heavier weight.  I saw he started to lie back, and lift his ass off the bed, peeing down his sweat pants.  His thighs were pasty white but each looked around as tree trunks, imbued with taut muscle.  Kicking them away then he sat back up.  Hands propped behind him, legs out, leaving his giant pink fleshed soles to face me.  

Dear god.  

I finally swallowed that lump.  The size of them! The heftiness of each planted foot, looking broad and just as proportionally tall.  They honestly were the biggest pair of feet I'd ever seen.   From the heels, up the arched instep, and underside the balls and each fat toe the underside skin was particularly padded and utterly slick with sweat.  So wet the flesh was wrinkled, pruned with beads of the bodily fluids that coursed down the crevices.  On one foot the big toe above curled.  Broderick smirked as he made it slide down the side the other.  "They're sized fifteens, only one place in town carries sport shoes in my size."  

The thick pungent foot smell made my nose burn, and my eyes water.  Such fat, sloping pink pads, I wanted to just continue staring transfixed at them, at the way the sides squashed and rocked.  Pasha goaded me on.  "What is cutie boy Mark waiting for?  Papi's permission?  He already has it.  Let's go cutie boy."  

The giant behemoth behind me walked forward.  I felt as if I were outright being carried, with his arms still around me.  He grunted behind me as we brought our self's over to the edge of the bed.  He kneeled and my knees kicked out, lowered down as well.  Pulling a hand from my sack he planted it on my neck.  The whole grip seemed to wrap around the entire base of my skull.  He was gentle, but permeating under his palm was a forcefulness I knew I couldn't over come.  My face was hard-pressed, inches from the tender looking feet.  They towered over my face, actually being taller.  Planted together they were wider as well.  In that moment those dogs were my world

"Lick it bitch."  Pasha deeply ordered behind me.  Pulling my uncut 7 inches of rock hard girth from my pants he openly pumped.  

Above Broderick, as best I could see from behind his toe jam laced toes was moaning, pulling at his girth from inside his boxers.   "Lick my feet, dude."  He half moaned out.  

"Lick them filthy dogs Mark."

The texture was not unlike diving face first into a rubber sponge, a salty, living wet rubbery sponge.  The raw skin contoured to my facial features, my nose, and lips dimpling in.  There was so much sweat.  Grunting like an animal, I started licking.  Starting on one sole I worked ignoring yet taking in the cheesy flavor.  Each droplet laced with musk and pheromones was experienced, savored.  

Nodding my head, dragging up long ways with each slurp, I was diligent.  Applying pressure, and starting at the bitter heel I felt like I could memorize how the chewy sole would curve along his instep, only to produce the fat pads under his toes; and the toes themselves.... My tongue was doing acrobatics lacing between each.  Playfully Broderick made them roll curling and gripping my tongue which slipped easily enough.  The chunk's of toe jam were the most nauseating.  The stink was one thing, the feel of the bare feet on my face another, but the muck caked on my tongue, wallowing before I swallowed.    

Almost like he was appreciating the effort Broderick mashed his plush second foot against the side of my face, entirely covering it in the steamy skin.

Behind me I could feel Pasha heating up.  My dick was leaking, and perversely using the goo as lubricant he pumped my shaft.  Aching, drawing pleasures were laid upon me.  

What the hell was I doing?  Oh fuck, why was it feeling so good!  These two bastards with their brute and brawn; I hated them and I loved them.  

"Take the toes bitch."  Broderick mumbled, and finally clapped his foot on my cheek while his presented foot eased down.  I offered no resistance while his thick digit bobbed into my mouth.  It became slippery with my spittle, and he added a few more, curling his sole against my chin.

This was too much.  The feelings were building.  Pasha, was getting passionate with his lavish fisting on my shaft.  I tried to wriggle my hips, to get him to calm but he pressed on even further.  My face edging away from the sole, he gripped the base of my skull only tighter, keeping me right where I was.  

The voice seemed to take that queue.  "Give in.  You've got two free passes to shoot a big creamy wad, and you'll still get $5000.  It's okay to let yourself go to these beasts.  You're just a bitch.  You're their bitch.  Release yourself, cum for them.  Thank them for their hard efforts to please you."  

No.  Damn it, this should've never happened!  Fuck the pleasure kept rolling!  "Is ok cutie pie.  If you feel like you need to cream for us boars, you are safe too."  My cock feeling like it was starting on fire.  The relentless milking picked up, and crying out in humiliation I felt it.  Toe jam laced spittle gurgled out my mouth as my shaft reached a hot, passionate crescendo.  Throbbing, Pasha laughed darkly and Broderick moaned.  As if knowing I was soon the rank plush soles smashed against my face.  

My world was dark black, sweaty walls of face planting feet as I shook in perverse ecstasy and creamed in a thick, sweaty Russian hand.