Working
"Down Under"
by blip64
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When my buddy first approached me about working with him again, I
was intrigued.
You see, we had been friends since high school and had worked together
at many jobs. Jason was always the athletic one. He was built and
very good looking with an easy charm that everyone warmed up to right
away. Our first job together was at a supermarket and it didn't take
much for Jason to tell me he was tired (from a night of partying)
and I was cleaning his section of the floors and emptying all of his
garbage bins as well. I did this while Jason sat with his feet up
in the break room looking through a magazine. He grinned at me and
winked as I picked up all around him and washed the grimy floor. "Hey
man, grab me a Coke would ya on your way back in?" I bowed saying,
"Yes, Sir" dripping with sarcasm but still fetched Jason
his soft drink which he barely thanked me for.
Truth be told, I really didn't mind running after Jason. He was hot
to look at and everyone was jealous that I was good friends with him.
The price I paid was nothing. Heck, we worked together at a fancy
restaurant together and it became my job to clean and polish Jason's
shoes! I was finishing up my shift one night, sitting on the floor
shining my shoes in the employee room. We all had lockers to keep
our stuff in, Jason and I shared one. Jason entered the room and saw
what I was doing. "Hey bro, I got to run to the airport right
away to pick up my cousin from Italy. Would you mind doing my shoes
too while you're at it?" The question was just so matter of fact
that I simply nodded. "Great! Thanks man, I owe ya one",
was all he said as he kicked off his shoes before putting on his sneakers
and taking off.
I looked down at my friend's dirty loafers. They really needed a good
cleaning. Picking one up I looked it over. I read the size and was
strangely awed to see he wore size twelve. There was food stuck to
the bottoms that Jason had stepped on and crushed into the soles.
As I examined the shoes I became aware of the heavy odor radiating
from the warm. damp insides. A slight groan rumbled in my throat as
my nostrils took in the dank, masculine aroma. I brought the right
shoe a little closer to my nose, terrified that another coworker would
walk in and find me sniffing someone's sweaty old shoes. I took in
a deep whiff.
My dick twitched and I was suddenly horrified but excited at what
I was feeling as I breathed in my buddy's foot odor. Feelings of sub
servience washed over me and I pushed my nose inside the smelly shoe
and began snorting in the sour odor left by my buddy's sweating feet.
This was the beginning of my end. From that point on, I lived for
Jason's feet!
I didn't meet up with Jason that night, partly due my shame at getting
off on his smelly, foot odor. The next night after work as I cleaned
my dirty shoes on the floor, Jason entered the break room with another
hot guy. "Hey, this is my cousin visiting from Milan", Jason
told me. I looked up from my position on the floor and possibly gasped.
Jason's cousin, Marco, was stunning. Tall, dark, brutally handsome
with a slight sneer making him look just a little bit cruel. Good
looks definitely ran in their family. Marco simply looked down at
me at his feet and nodded. "Marco and I are going out for a few
beers". Nodding, I began to get up to join them. Before I got
halfway up, Jason had kicked off his shoes and had pushed them toward
me with his dark, socked foot. "I'll leave these here for you
to clean. By the way bro, you got twenty bucks you could spot me for
the bar?" I sat back down on the floor and looked up at the two
guys looking down at me.
I heard Marco snicker as I reached in my pocket and handed over a
twenty dollar bill. Jason snatched it up in his hand and walked to
his locker to put his sneakers on. Marco stared down at me his eyes
boring into mine. "If I knew there was a shoe cleaner here I
would have brought all of mine here for you. I have several pairs
that require cleaning. Maybe tomorrow, huh?" Then they were gone.
I picked up Jason's still warm loafer and brought it to my nose. It
stunk of my buddy's sweaty, foot odor.
The next evening I was actually invited over to Jason's to spend time
with him and Marco. I felt so relieved. I must admit that my ego was
getting battered from going to being Jason's friend to being his shoe
cleaner. We all spent a nice evening having dinner and drinking some
wine. As we settled into the living room, Marco talked about his life
back in Italy. He was a fairly successful wine seller and was engaged
to a very beautiful woman. He played many sports and lived in a big,
castle-like villa. I was impressed and a little in lust; after all
this man was so hot looking. "I also have servants who are there
to make life easier", he commented glancing at me. "You
Americans need to do the same."
Jason chuckled, "When I win the lottery man, I'm gonna have servants
waiting on me hand and foot" Then, turning his attention to me
he smiled, "Until then, I'll have to settle for my little buddy
here cleaning and shining my shoes every night!" Marco burst
out laughing at the dig at my expense. My face reddened with humiliation.
"Which reminds me, dude, you haven't taken care of my shoes yet
tonight, have you?" The wine was definitely going to my head
as I stuttered and stammered at Jason's words. "Why don't you
clean up these dishes but pour Marco and me some more wine first"
I slowly stood and looked at them both. I was met with arrogant smirks
and Marco shaking his empty wine glass at me. "Ah…sure,
right away", I muttered and went to the kitchen to fetch more
wine. As I picked up the dishes and poured wine I was ignored. I proceeded
to wash all the dishes by hand trying desperately to ignore the hard
on that has materialized in my pants. I loved being treated like this
but felt terribly ashamed at the same time. I entered the living room
to hear Marco bark, "More wine, faggot!" and Jason snicker.
As I ran back to the kitchen I tried to tell myself to just walk out
the back door. Instead, I ran back to my new "bosses" and
carefully filled their glasses. "Now, my shoes little buddy or
should I say faggot too?" he laughed. I sank to my knees as Jason
carelessly kicked off his loafers and propped his feet up on the coffee
table. I stared into the soles of his worn, dirty socks now a mere
four inches from my face. "Careful faggot, those socks could
be hazardous to your health", Jason grinned.
And then it hit me. The sultry, sour aroma of my buddy's damp socked
feet. Big, sexy feet that had sweated buckets inside his well worn
black shoes. I inhaled the stench as Jason watched me with an amused
grin on his face. It was when I heard Marco chuckle that I snapped
out of my dream-like state. "They must be pretty smelly, huh
faggot? The way you're just staring at my sweaty socks!" Again,
I just turned red and stuttered. "Well, pick up a shoe stupid
and start cleaning!" Jason remarked.
I leaned over and picked up a soiled, dusty loafer. Looking around
for something to wipe the dirt off with, I heard Marco's deep, sexy
voice, "C'mon faggot, just use your tongue." I swallowed,
wanting so bad to bring the shoe to my mouth. Marco rested his feet
on the other side of the coffee table and I looked at his dirty, worn
Italian shoe soles. All I could smell were Jason's feet and my dick
was so hard it ached. I slowly brought my friend's shoe to my lips
and swiped my wet tongue along the dirty sole. I heard laughter.
As I licked my buddy's shoes kneeling on the floor in front of him
and his hot cousin I felt humiliation like never before. Jason's shoes
tasted like dirt and the steamy aroma coming from inside the worn
shoes assaulted my senses. I knew that at the moment my tongue touched
the shoe leather I had gone from being Jason's friend to his shoe
licking faggot. Both guys watched me with a mixture of disgust and
amusement. "Keep licking faggot", Jason chuckled. "You've
got my other shoe then Marco's to clean still!" I looked at the
soles of Marco's expensive shoes resting on the coffee table. "I
think you can dine on my shoes while they're still on my feet",
Marco grinned. I swallowed tasting the grit on my tongue.
"I never knew you had such talent.", Jason said looking
down at me. "If I had known I would have had you lick my cleats
clean throughout high school."
Then, as if the idea just struck him he added," Not to worry,
faggot, I still play on a softball team and you are certainly welcome
to spruce up my nasty baseball cleats for me. Would you like that,
shoe licker?" I nodded and whispered, "yes, Sir", hearing
the laughter from the two. As I crawled over to Marco's feet he sneered,
"Sounds like you're going to have one very sore tongue, faggot!
Now, get licking!"
Jason and Marco sipped their wine as my tongue cleaned the dirt from
the Italian shoe leather. Marco's feet were bigger than my face and
as I gently sucked on the heel of the shoe the rest of my face pressed
into the bottom of the shoe. I could see nothing but shoe sole! I
felt utterly degraded. Marco leaned back and put his arms behind his
head. "Ah, just like being at home", he sighed. "Do
three hundred dollar shoes taste any better, faggot?" he asked
with a chuckle.
I licked continuously for the next half hour. My tongue felt raw but
obviously neither Marco nor Jason cared. They just wanted their shoes
cleaned. Finally, pressing his shoe on my forehead, Marco said, "You're
done!" and I stopped about to get off my aching knees. "Stay
where you are faggot", I was told and I watched, horrified, as
Marco kicked off his shoes, revealing his big, moist socked feet.
I was so close to his feet I felt the damp heat on my face…and
then came the smell! A guttural moan sounded in my throat as I breathed
in my first breath. Deep within my psyche I knew it was unnatural
to be this close to another man's sweaty, smelly feet, but I inhaled
deeper anyway. Jason snickered and shook his head in amazement that
I didn't pull my face away.
"It seems the faggot likes smell of straight men's feet",
Marco smiled as he flexed his soles casually in my face. The smell
was overwhelming and my nostrils
twitched as they sucked up the stench. My face stayed put, an inch
from Marco's steaming soles, as the guys ignored me and planned their
weekend together. Marco's size twelve's had an awesome shape and I
inconspicuously pushed my nose forward until the tip of my nose touched
the wide, meaty ball of his right foot. I felt the dark sock fuzz
on my nose as I smelled his foot.
"Let's go play golf tomorrow, man", Jason proposed. "We
can bring our faggot caddy with us and really relax!" Marco chuckled
at the suggestion. Looking down he had to move his foot in order to
see my face. I was red from embarrassment from perving out on his
smelly soles. "I'll need my golf shorts and shirt ironed by 8
a.m. tomorrow. Oh, and "touch up" my golf shoes while you're
at it", he winked. Jason looked me in the eye and grinned, "Ditto!"
before Marco returned the bottom of his foot to my face.
The guys went to bed shortly after that. I decided to sleep on the
couch since the guestroom was now taken and I had work to do by tomorrow
morning now. I retrieved the golf clothes from each of the guys as
well as their dirty golf shoes. I could hear light snoring coming
from the bedrooms an hour later as my tongue dutifully cleaned off
the dried mud from the soles of their golf shoes.
The next day was Hell…for me anyway. It turned out to be a hot
day and I doubled caddied for Jason and Marco. Neither gave me a second
thought as I followed five steps behind them, the sweat running down
my face for the entire day. I had played many times with Jason, always
envying the guys who had a caddy lugging around their heavy golf clubs.
I got a few strange looks and even heard some other men chuckle at
the sight of me being used like a pack mule.
About two hours into the round Jason ran into the father of a girl
he used to date. Marco was introduced but I was totally ignored. As
the men chatted, I simply stood there respectfully not saying a word.
The ex- girlfriend's father turned to me, "Run over to my cooler
over there and grab three bottles of water, would you!" Jason
and Marco grinned as I replied, "Yes, Sir" and literally
ran as instructed. As the guys took a break, the conversation turned
to how the man's regular caddy was "useless". Jason carelessly
loaned me out to caddy for him the very next weekend, "Free of
charge!"
On the way back to the care, Jason and Marco decided to go for a beer
or two before heading home. I was exhausted. As I loaded both golf
bags into the trunk, Marco and Jason kicked off their dirty golf shoes
and ankle socks before putting on sandals. With a grin, Marco suggested,
"Since you're so tired fag, why don't you get in the trunk so
you can lay down while my cousin and I go to the pub?" It was
more than just a simple question so I lowered my head a quickly climbed
into the trunk before anyone could notice. Jason merely laughed.
Marco waited until I got settled before piling the sweat drenched
socks and golf cleats by my face. "Here, you can clean these
while you're waiting for us!" The bottoms of the four socks had
been layered over my upturned face and the smell was incredibly sharp!
Jason grabbed my wallet out of my pants saying, "Haven't made
it to the bank, spot me twenty bucks would you, bro?" With both
my pride and wallet being raped simultaneously I breathed in the wet,
rank socks on my face, the combined foot odor almost too much to endure!
"See you later, fag", Jason snickered and the trunk was
slammed shut. The car was started and I endured a bumpy ride, not
fully sure if Jason hit some of the bumps on purpose. He did park
the car under a tree giving me some shade in my cramped temporary
prison.
The wet socks eventually dried on my face but the entire trunk stank
of very strong foot odor. I licked the filthy golf shoes clean both
inside and out. One of the guy's shoes was very rank on the inside
from wear but I couldn't tell whose. Did it matter? I began to insert
the now crusty socks into my mouth in order to suck them clean. The
taste was unbelievable. I must have fallen asleep with a sock still
in my mouth as I woke up to Marco and Jason looking down and laughing
at me washing their socks in my mouth.
Once at home, I carried in all of the guy's stuff as they went inside
empty handed. They relaxed on the couch while I got them a beer from
the fridge. I was then told to lick the bottoms of their sandals,
"to get the bar floor taste off" before giving them both
a nice, long foot massage. They talked about different ways to use
me to their advantage.
Their bare feet were sweaty and smelly but as I lovingly rubbed their
slick soles listening to all the ways they were going to deal with
me. I secretly came in my pants.
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