A Sense of Belonging
by andykgoss@hotmail.com

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Normally when someone special takes their index finger and puts it to your lips whilst saying “shhhh”, the moment is a tender one.

The word “shhhh” is often accompanied by “there’s no need to speak” or “I understand”. When this last happened to Greg, the moment was not so much tender - it was momentous. This was because instead of a finger being pushed to Greg’s lips, it was a big toe. Instead of the words “there’s no need to speak” or “I understand”, the word “shhh” was accompanied by “obey” and “you belong to my feet now”. Quite simply put - whether consciously or sub-consciously - this was the moment that Greg had waited all his life for.

Let’s rewind a couple of months. Greg’s job as a buyer for a larger food manufacturer was a tough but enjoyable one. It was tough because he was expected to forge competitive deals with large suppliers. It was also tough because at 30, Greg was still considered relatively young in his industry, and so had to work that little bit harder to be taken seriously. His latest assignment was to forge a deal with a reputable Grocery supplier. It was a big deal that not only would take a couple of months to set up; it also meant working with Don – Greg’s point of contact at the supplier, and a particularly tough cookie to boot.

Don was a tall, well built, stocky man. He wasn’t what you would call conventionally handsome, but had a rugged edge to him that made him attractive. Greg put him in his late 30”s/early 40”s. It was hard to call, as close up the lines around his eyes were quite deep, but this added to his attractiveness as it seemed to Greg he was talking to a man of the world – someone who knew a thing or two. From the start Greg was in awe of Don. Don was a hard negotiator, which in a business sense made it difficult to reach an agreement with him. There were also his feet – they seemed huge. Greg wasn’t sure quite how huge, but they were certainly big enough to make Greg feel completely in awe of Don’s feet, above and beyond anything else.

It wasn’t before long that Greg started obsessing about Don’s feet. Greg had been into feet as long as he could remember, but he had never thought about someone’s feet as much as he did Don’s. It didn’t help that Greg had to meet up with Don on a regular basis to work on the “deal”, and all Greg could think of when they were talking business was “I wonder how big his feet are”. This bugged Greg, as he wanted to do as a professional job as he could and there where even times when Don would notice Greg’s mind was not on the job.

“ Are you still with us” he would ask, referring to one of Greg’s more frequent daydreams about Don’s feet. “If only he knew”, Greg thought.

Enough was enough, and it got to the point that Greg had to know how big Don’s feet were. Greg wasn’t quite sure where the idea of the questionnaire came from, but as soon as it came into his mind, he put the questionnaire together. Greg did it quickly and with a sense of urgency. It was almost if he had to know straight away the size of Don’s feet.

It was a short questionnaire – four questions all centered around reflexology – do you know what reflexology is, would you consider using it, would you consider your feet too sensitive to have reflexology and last but certainly not least – what size are your feet? A covering email was sent with the questionnaire, explaining to Don that Greg was doing a course on reflexology, and as part of his course work needed to collect as many different responses to the questions as possible. Then, without a second thought, Greg sent the questionnaire to Don.

Greg thought he wasn’t going to get a response. Normally Don was highly efficient and would respond to emails from Greg within minutes. However, it seemed like hours and Greg had still not had a response to his questionnaire. Greg began to think that he had perhaps done the wrong thing. Maybe Don was offended that Greg had asked questions about his feet. Maybe Don might tell Greg’s colleagues that he was studying reflexology, who would surely find the whole thing very strange, as Greg had never mentioned anything to them about it. Then, when Greg had given up any hope of receiving the questionnaire back, he noticed the email from Don in his inbox.

Greg quickly opened it and the attachment complete with Don’s responses. Greg didn’t bother reading the first three responses; instead his eyes shot down to the last question – “What size are your feet?”

Size 12 was the answer.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Now that Don had confirmed his feet where a hefty size 12, Greg became hooked on wanting to know what they looked like. Over the next few meetings Greg found himself looking at Don’s hands. They were big, manly hands. His fingers weren’t too long or too short and his palms looked at little rough – not too rough and certainly not too soft. Greg imagined that if Don’s feet were similar to his hands, then he would surely have the most perfect feet. Imagining was of course the operative word, as Greg didn’t really have a clue as to what Don’s feet looked like and that’s what bugged him so much.

Greg became frustrated that he spent so much time thinking about Don and his feet. It was after all an unhealthy obsession over a seemingly straight man’s feet. There wasn’t any hope on earth that Greg would ever get to worship Don’s size 12’s, let alone see them. Greg therefore, decided to try and put the whole feet thing to the back of his mind, promising himself that the next time he was to meet with Don he was to concentrate on business and nothing else.

At the next meeting things seemed to be going well. Greg didn’t look at Don’s feet or his hands. He wasn’t daydreaming about what Don’s feet may look like. He was simply concentrating on the business in hand. That was until the fidgeting started. Normally they would meet in Don’s office, with Don sitting behind his desk and Greg sitting in front. Today was no different, although part way through the meeting Greg noticed that Don started to move his feet around. At first he began to cross one foot over the over, leaving them in position for a few moments and then crossing them back the other way again.

Then he began to put one foot on top of the other, with both feet facing upwards and the soles of Don’s black brogues facing towards Greg. Remembering his resolution, Greg tried not to look at Don’s feet whilst all this movement was going on. However, when it got to the point where Don was easing the shoe of his top foot off with the shoe of his bottom foot, Greg couldn’t help but look. Right before Greg’s eye’s Dons shoe was dangling from the toes of his top foot, revealing to Greg a large arched foot clad in a black, almost sheer sock. 

This sight to Greg was pure heaven, he could almost see the contours of Don’s feet through the black sock, and he was sure there was a sweaty, musty whiff in the air. At this point Greg started to feel himself get aroused. Not the best timing, but he couldn’t help it just as he couldn’t help staring at Don’s huge sock clad foot. “Greg, are you with me”. Don’s gruff voice bought Greg back down to earth a bump.

“ Sorry Don” Greg muttered, and with that Don slipped his shoe back on his feet and placed both feet back on the ground.

On the way home that day Greg composed the email in his head. The email would explain to Don that as part of Greg’s reflexology course, Greg needed to practice his skills on people, and as Greg had already practiced on a number of females, he was looking to use a guy next and wondered if Don would like to volunteer. Greg wasted no time in sending the email to Don the next day. The size, smell and appearance of Don’s foot had aroused Greg beyond belief and he found himself wanting more.

There was no response to Greg’s email for a couple of days. Don clearly wasn’t interested and Greg should just give up on the whole foot thing as it was becoming embarrassing. After all Greg had lied about studying reflexology just to get access to a guy’s feet, and not just any guy, someone who worked for a supplier Greg’s company was hoping to do more business with. If work got to find out about this Greg would surely be fired. But then the response from Don came back – “Sounds like a good idea. Be at my office next Wednesday at 6pm and you can practice your reflexology”.

Wednesday came around, and Greg was both excited and nervous. Excited about the very arousing prospect of seeing Don’s feet, but nervous about Don finding out that Greg actually knew nothing about reflexology. Greg walked up to Don’s office, his heart beating fast with anticipation. The rest of the office was quiet. At 6pm most people had gone home. Greg knocked on the door of Don’s office. “Come In” responded Don’s gruff voice. Greg walked in and Don motioned for him to sit down on the seat in front of the desk.

“ Now” said Don. “Where do you want my feet?”. Greg had already played the scenario out in his head so he knew what say. “If you could just put both feet up on your desk, you can sit back and relax and I will be able to access your feet easily”.

“ Ok” said Don, and with that he put both feet up on the table but still with his black brogues on. Greg was slightly taken aback. “Oh. I was going to ask you to remove your shoes and socks” he said.

“ Tell you what” said Don. “Could you do that for me?”.

“ Could I ever” thought Greg and he carefully reached over to Don’s shoes and unlaced them.

As Greg went to pull the first shoe off, he could almost feel his hands shaking. He had dreamt of being in this position for so long and now it was finally coming true. Greg couldn’t however show any sign of pleasure. As far as Don was concerned Greg was here to perform reflexology. As Greg slipped the first shoe off he caught the sweaty, musty whiff he had smelt last time he was here. This time is was stronger.

A rather pungent smell which to most people would be off-putting but to Greg it smelt like heaven. It was the manly, sweaty smell of a guys feet that has been in leather brogues all day. To Greg there was no better smell, and Don’s feet had a particularly distinctive whiff that was delightful to Greg. With both shoes removed, Greg allowed himself a glimpse at Don’s socked feet. As before, Don had shear black socks on that clung to every contour of Don’s seemingly shapely feet.

Greg’s cock was by now fully erect, and he was only grateful that his legs were hidden beneath Don’s desk hence hiding the tent pole Greg had in his trousers. “Shall I remove your socks now?” Greg asked. “Sure” answered Don. Greg removed the first sock slowly. An action he had played out in his head again and again. With the first sock removed, the first thing that hit Greg was the smell. It was now even stronger than before.

“ Sorry” said Don, as if reading Greg’s mind. “You might find my feet a bit whiffy. They tend to get that way after a hard day’s work”.

“Not to worry” answered Greg truthfully. At this point Greg was looking at Don’s feet, and whilst not trying to be too obvious Greg really was staring – Don’s feet truly were beautiful.

They were big, Greg already knew that, but to seem them naked and in the flesh they were truly huge. There were shapely. Not just long, but also a width to them that gave them a beauty of their own. Don had incredible arches that added to the shapely appearance of them. The toes were of the perfect length, and although overall Don’s soles appeared fairly soft and wrinkly, they were some hard patches beneath Don’s toes and on the heel that added to the character of Don’s feet. Greg couldn’t help but stare, and as he slipped off the second sock and witnessed the same, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. These big, manly feet were not only beautiful, they also wielded some kind of power of Greg, and Greg’s felt almost obliged to get down on his knees and submit himself to Don’s feet. Greg of course couldn’t do that, and instead just sat there transfixed by Don’s feet.

As far as Greg was concerned time had stopped, but Don was starting to come agitated. “Greg” he said rather abruptly. “What’s going on? This is not reflexology, all you seem to be doing is staring at my feet. Are you some kind of pervert or something …Greg?”

With that Greg snapped out of his spell. He had been rumbled. Greg began to mumble and splutter “I, I can explain … I was just … I’m sorry…. I…”. Don let him carry on in that way for a few seconds, and then something amazing happened.

Don raised his right foot towards Greg’s face and placed his big toe on Greg’s lips. Greg whole body was shaking. What was going on? He took in a deep breath and could smell Don’s toe as it sat on his lips beneath his nose.

Don started to speak. “Shhh”, he said and then paused. “Obey” and another pause. “You belong to my feet now” Don finished in an authoritative voice.

Eight simple words, but eight words which to Greg were momentous. Greg didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t speak anyway as he had Don’s big toe pressed to his lips”. Don slowly removed his toe, and then without warning pushed his whole right foot into Greg’s face. Greg drew a deep breath.

“ Smell this” said Don. “Taste this …and feel this”.

Then, keeping his right foot in Greg’s face, he took his left foot and stroked Greg’s left ear with it. “Hear this” he said. “This is the sound of my feet touching your skin”.

He continued. “You have already had a good stare at my feet boy, I just wanted to make sure all five of your senses were fully attuned to my feet”.

“ From now on I want to make sure that all of your senses are fully enveloped by my feet when you are with me”.

“ Do you understand me boy?”

“ Yes sir” answered Greg, slightly muffled as Don’s right foot was still pressed against his face. With that, Don removed both feet from Greg’s face.

“ Good Boy” Don said. “I now want you to put my shoes and socks back on”.

“ Sir?” Greg asked, who surely thought a full on foot worship session was about to follow. “Well boy” said Don. “You have got what you have come for and have seen my feet. You have also had an added bonus by me letting all five of your senses experience my feet”.

Don continued “I know my feet are hot, and I know that there are many boys who would love to worship them.”

“ So I need to make sure that you appreciate my feet and you know how privileged you are to be my foot slave”.

“ Oh yes sir, I do know how privileged I am” answered Greg in a heartbeat. “Good” replied Don, because that means you will go home now and come back in a weeks time full appreciating that your role in life is to be my foot slave. You belong to my feet now. Got It”.

“ Yes Sir I’ve got it”, and with that Greg followed Don’s instructions and put his shoes and socks back on and went home.

Greg drove home with a smile on his face that evening. He had a new sense of purpose in life and that felt good.