Sold
by GoldtoeJake

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“Thank you for coming to my home today,” Jim said as we sat down. “My office is being painted this weekend, so I appreciate your ability to come here.”

“No problem, sir,” I replied nervously. He could sense my unease and said, “So…bad medicine is best taken all in one dose, right? Let’s start with the activity that brought you here today” he smiled kindly.

I was in BIG trouble. I returned from a business trip to find that our boss David had bought new laptops for the entire sales team. He made us turn our old ones in that same Monday morning. On that sales trip, I’d visited all kinds of sites that are expressly prohibited by our company’s computer policy and, while rushing to catch a flight, I failed to clean from the laptop the names of and cookies from the places I’d browsed.

I suspected the worse when David asked me to stay late one day. He confronted me about the sites on my laptop. I expected to be fired immediately and lose the salary that sustained me and my family, including two young kids in private school, and my home. He didn’t fire me right then, though. He said he’d think about it for a week.

When I was called back in late one evening a week later, David told me that he was sending me to see a counselor named Jim. Ultimately, he told me, he would decide whether I kept my job and livelihood.

My appointment with Jim was fixed for the following Sunday. He asked me to reserve three to four hours and I explained it would be no problem because my family would be out of town.

I stammered a bit at first when explaining to Jim about my misuse of the laptop and vowed never again do so. “Jake, buddy, I’m afraid it’s not that easy. I need to understand more about what you like about these fetish and porn sites before I can assure David that you won’t be a repeat offender,” he explained.

A couple of minutes later, I was seated in front of my old laptop, which Jim had acquired from David and then placed atop his dining room table. He pulled up a chair next to me. “Jake, I’d like for you to show me some of the sites you visit most frequently and tell me what it is you like about them.” I could feel the heat of embarrassment rising. “Just go first to the one of the sites you visit most frequently,” he asked again firmly.

I signed on to myfriendsfeet.com. “Are you a member of this site, Jake?” he asked. “I won a membership by writing a story for this site,” I explained. “Show me that story,” he said quietly. He moved the laptop in front of him and read my story—and then asked if I’d submitted any others. I showed him a second story, too.

“So, you obviously like to be restrained. And the strength of a man’s foot scent—‘ripeness’ you call it. Those are both extremely erotic for you, right?” I hesitantly said yes to both observations.

He told me that he and my boss had discussed my internet dalliances at length. He then asked which of the videos on My Friends Feet that I watched most often. I reluctantly signed on and showed him “Ace Captured!” and “Flynn Video,” where the model displays his nylon dress socks—flexing his toes for the camera.” He made me turn on the feature where the laptop saves passwords, telling me that he needed to research the site further and he wanted the same access I enjoyed. He wrote down my usernames for all sites I showed him.

“You’ve visited several other sites that involve restraint and verbal domination—or bondage and domination, I think it’s called, right?” he asked. I replied yes. I explained that once play with socks had occurred, I was always ready for more sexual forms of play. He smiled wryly. I looked down…ashamed to meet his gaze. He added, “So, in your case, an older guy would need to know that his really dirty socks are the key to sex with you.” I nodded, feeling exposed.

After 25 minutes more of web surfing on other sites, he suggested we return to the den. I sat in a chair next to the couch where Jim was seated. “Jake, I’m going to try something unusual but therapeutic to help me understand the depth of your fetish addiction.” I’d never heard it called that before. His “therapy” was quite unexpected, but I felt I had little room to object.

Within five minutes, I was laying on the floor under the chair where I’d been seated. Still clothed in my shirt and slacks, my hands were bound at my side and my ankles and knees were secured, all with various sized belts or straps that he said he’d secured for this counseling session with me. My head protruded about a foot or two from the front of the chair. “I wanted you to physically feel restraint while you talk about why it is exciting to you,” he said, sitting back down on the couch.

“I think it’s the loss of control, I said. And being told to do something that I want desperately, but also feeling resistant to it,” I offered. “Hmmmm,” Jim said, adding, “and what is it about the socks that you like? It’s the strong scent, right?” I nodded. “Do you like losing the ability to speak…to be gagged?” I nodded again. “Be right back,” he said.

I heard from another room the ripping sound of what I knew was duct tape. He came back with a strip of it and explained he would only be asking yes or no questions for the next few minutes. I tried to object, but before I could speak the tape covered my mouth completely. Here I was…in a scene from a fantasy that ordinarily would have inspired a raging hard on, but I was too scared to be horny. Keeping my job was the object, so I cooperated with this unorthodox approach to “therapy.”

Jim, seated again on the couch, crossed one leg. The result was that his sizeable slip-on dress shoe came amazingly close to my head. He looked down at my face. “So, if I told you that I’d worn these same thin, brown, ribbed socks for a week straight, would that make you feel sexually excited?” The excitement was instantly electric, but I made no reply. I just stared back at him. “Aw, come on, Jake. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He flexed his toes upward and his heel slipped out of his dress shoe. I was hypnotized by what had to be a size 10 or 11 leather-sole dress shoe dangling very near my head.

“That’s right…you’d like that shiny, moist, ripe sock inside that shoe right under your nostrils, wouldn’t you?” he asked, somewhat menacingly. I wriggled a little against the straps, but there was no moving. No speaking. No calling for help.

Actually,” Jim laughed, “I understand fetishes very well. I am a professional counselor, Jake, but I should probably tell you that you are not a patient of mine.” He could see the confusion in my eyes. “Jake, buddy, your dream of finding a dominant sock and sex master is coming true today…and there’s not a fucking thing you can do to about it,” he added, standing and moving to the chair under which I was bound and taking a seat. His dress shoes flanked my head. “And these socks truly have got a full seven days of consecutive wear on them…just for you, Jakey.”

Jim then told me that my boss David had called him as soon as he’d checked my laptop. David had suspected he’d catch me at something, which he finally did. It was his reason for buying the new laptops while I was traveling, I learned.

Jim told me that David’s strong verbal and sometimes demeaning leadership style at work showed only a fraction of the control he enjoyed as a dominant sex master. He wanted me as a prospective slave, but the sock fetish element was not exciting to him. David knew of Jim’s foot fetish from their sexual play together for several years. “So, Jakey boy, you’ve actually been ‘sold’ to me bud by your boss. How do you like that?

“I own you now, bud, because I’m paying David a fee for your services each month. He likes really nice clothes and cars, so this way I can help him out while he helps me out with some kinked-up action in my bed whenever I want it and make a call,” he said. His lifted his right foot and stroked my cheek with the sole of his shoe for a few seconds.

“The good news is that get to keep your job, Jake. But you’ll be over here for play at least a couple of times each week to service me when I’m not traveling. Don’t worry. No one will suspect anything because David is assigning me to you as a new ‘client.’ I bet he’ll even recognize you at the office for great client service because of all the time you’ll be devoting to me” he smirked.

Jim then told me that he liked to cum between three and four times during each session—adding that he would focus his ejaculations either in my mouth or into a sock to then be sucked clean. He also told me how he was going to train me today to use a rim seat, which would be the first of several toys he planned to introduce in the weeks ahead.

“I’ll get you stripped and tied to my bed here in a little while, but first lets see if we can use these two ripe keys that are on either side of your head to ‘unlock’ your libido and get you ready to serve me.” He slipped off his shoes and the sharp stink of man sweat and leather emanated from his socked feet. The odor only became stronger as he flexed his toes under my nostrils as he gently rubbed the arches of his sweaty socked feet on my chin.