He
Used To Be A Heavy Sleeper
by Soul
Tickler
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First chapter is 100% pure facts! The rest is how it could have
been.
Chapter 1
ADDICTED TO MATT'S WIDE FEET
Matt and I had been friends since I can remember. Same neighborhood,
same school. Well, not best buds, but friends indeed. Both of us
quite build, him still being the big guy, the athlete, not too smart,
sometimes irritating the rest of us with his cockiness. Me, on the
other hand, being the smart one, the one who would at times take
advantage of this cockiness to make a complete fool of him! What
I couldn't have known then was the reason behind such a behavior.
Nor how things would end.
At the age of fifteen, when every normal boy's interest moves from
friends to girls, Matt's included, mine kept stuck on boys, even
on their feet lately. Yeah, I know. How weird can that be! Still,
whenever a schoolmate changed his socks on the locker room, I would
be there. Whenever at beach, I couldn't help it staring at my own
pals' bare soles and cute little toes (did I just write "cute"?
Fuck...). For a long time I have been masturbating thinking of nothing
special, just pleasuring myself. Then one summer all that changed.
Pictures of feet suddenly popped in my head, entered my fantasies:
male feet, bare feet, wide feet soon became an obsession to me,
one specific pair being the most frequent: Matt's.
The winter after, I came with a plan. Having gathered the amount
of money needed, I bought the best 2megapixel camera I could find
(have in mind this was about eight years ago). The plan was simple.
Matt was known from sleepovers to be a heavy sleeper. All I had
to do now was wait for the chance. And a chance it was!
Matt and I were going to sleep over Doug's house that Saturday,
his folks gone for the weekend. The three of us watched a movie,
played cards, chatting over and over while drinking a bottle of
whiskey we found, finally decided to get some sleep, Doug at his
own bedroom, me on his parents king size bed (too bad I used it
so little) and Matt on a couch by the kitchen.
At 5.00 a.m., the two of them sleeping soundly, I grabbed my bag,
took out the brand new camera and headed to where Matt was. The
window shades not fully closed, light from nighttime street activity
allowed me to see.
I snapped a shot of him in clothes and shoes on, just to warm up.
Then came the good part. Kneeling before his feet, shaking like
a leaf from the rush of the experience, I slid one shoe off, checking
the whole time in case he wakes. His socks were white and thick,
making his wide foot look even wider. I knew he preferred white
ones. Sliding off the other shoe, my heart beating fast, I breathed
one deep sniff. Fuck, what an odor! Nothing stinky. Just manly.
I got up and rushed to the bathroom, grabbed a few tissues and shot
my load into them, then cleaned up.
With newfound confidence I returned and snapped a second shot. Pure
lust making me feel dizzy now, I peeled one sock off. Sweet Mother
Nature! For a moment I was staring what could have been a fine piece
of art, still a cocky young man's bare sole: his extra big toe,
the gap between that and the second one, the round heel, the curve
of the sole, that little bit of roughness around the edge. I snapped
a third shot. Then a forth. I peeled off the other sock. A fifth
one.
Nine shots after I decided not to push my luck any further and put
the camera back in my bag. Just as I was about to leave, Matt woke
up.
"What is it?" he asked being half awake.
"Heading to the kitchen for some water" I lied.
"Mmmm," he murmured, and then looking down at his bare
soles, "Why are my feet bare?! This explains feeling cold down
there... still... when did I take the socks off? I never do..."
"And how the hell should I know?" I replied in a convincing
way. "Feeling cold, then put them back on!" said while
heading to the kitchen.
"Yeah, ok... You know what? At 7.30 I have to wake up. Can
you please have that in mind in case I don't hear the alarm? You
know what a heavy sleeper I am."
"Got it."
"Damn, we shouldn't have slept that late... I shouldn't have
drunk that much..." heard him complaining while on my way to
the king size bed waiting.
So his alarm would ring at 7.30. Mine did at 7.15.
Matt was sleeping, his thick white socks back on, and having a morning
hard on. I deactivated the alarm. Then it was for something out
of plan. Something for the sake of a teenage cock pleading for attention!
Taking deep breaths among each button, I unbuttoned his jeans, pulling
his boxers down a bit for an uncut cock to appear. Slowly then,
with just two fingers pulled back the skin to see his dickhead,
as if opening a present. A great one!
Losing no time I snapped one tenth and final shot, pulled his boxers
up, smiling at a yellow stain on the fabric, then put the camera
away. Time was 7.30. Didn't mind about the jeans.
"Wakee, wakee!” then trying to sound surprised, "Hey!
What do we have here? Having your jeans down, what were you up to,
dude?"
Half asleep and fully ashamed for being caught as he thought, he
buttoned up, and then put his shoes on. Ten minutes later he was
gone and I was finally to sleep with no more interruptions, thinking
of all that took place, a big smile on my face. Later at home I
created a folder on my PC. Named it Matt's Wide Soles.
Must inform you at this point: striping a heavy sleeper's feet off
the socks then sniff while snapping shots CAN BE ATTICTIVE. Had
I talked about the times I creamed just looking at those pics, this
story would take like forever to write! Had I talked of all the
sleepovers to Matt's place, could still be a 300pages book! Let's
just say that by the time we left for college (us that is, not Matt),
what started, as ten pics had become one nice collection of jerk-off
material, a collection of memories to cream about while being abroad.
Five years that was. Five years being apart, me creaming over and
over the same pics of his wide soles, having few news of him, having
no fresh shots. Five years after, the story was about to be repeated.
Hadn't something gone wrong that is.
Chapter 2
THE NIGHT I BECAME A FOOTSLAVE
Heard that Matt had now been working as a waiter at a bar and decided
to pass by. Entering the bar, there he was. Still sexy, still the
big guy, still Matt, now only bigger, wider. Could those babies
he’s standing on had become any wider by now? I instantly
wondered. Size 12s as I later found out. Matt was really friendly
that night, talking all night long, buying me drinks and stuff.
He was happy to see me, I could tell.
"Wanna continue at my place?" he asked, his shift now
over. "Living on my own now, we could keep chatting for the
rest of the night."
That was all I needed to hear. Without my favorite camera, still
with a 5megapixel mobile and ready to add some nice shots to my
collection, I accepted his offer. Knowing it wouldn't take long
for my heavy sleeper to fall out cold once again, tired from working
and having drunk that much. And right I was. Minutes after arriving
to his place, I could hear the snoring. Or was that music? Music
to my ears, that is. How long have I been waiting for this very
moment?
Kneeling before his soles I slide one shoe off to reveal his beautiful
black-socked foot. Black socks for tonight so it is. Sliding the
other one too, I took a deep sniff. Intoxicating! Pictures of feet
now popping in my head: male feet, bare feet, and wide feet. My
schoolmates' feet while changing socks. My pals' bare soles and
cute toes. Every inch of round heel now seemed to have it’s
meaning. Lost in a world where everything made sense (!), the thrill
of actually being down at Matt's beefy soles after so long absorbing
me, when all of the sudden I heard a male voice.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Matt, who used to be a heavy sleeper, was the one to wake me from
a dream thought come true, to the cruel reality of a fucked up situation
I had now put myself into. I froze. Matt being cocky but in a different
way than usual, dominating, asking once more, demanding for an answer
and an answer there was, still not one I could just spill out.
"So you're a fag, right? Well here's something we haven't talked
about! Reminding me now of all those sleepovers I have woken up
barefoot after, wondering how the hell that happened, still unable
to make the pieces fit. I believe they do now! Isn't that it? So
you're one kinky faggot!" said once more, as if coming to a
conclusion at last.
My face turning red, so close to tears, "I have this thing
for male feet" I finally murmured, "and."
"Go on" he said, putting his big socked toe under my jaw,
lifting my head, as if for our eyes to have full contact.
"Well, particularly yours." I admitted. Humiliated, still
sort of relieved from a secret kept for years, from a part of me
kept hidden and suppressed. That part of me wanting to not make
fool out of Matt but worship him. Humiliated, still searching for
excuses no more.
"Thing is, having a thing for my feet may not be that bad after
all!" he made a jock out of it. "Standing on them all
night at work, I'd enjoy a foot massage. You know they're killing
me as we speak! How about that?"
I hesitated. "Listen Matt. I'm into feet, I have already admitted
that, still I know you since we were kids and this situation now
makes me feel awkward. Think I should go."
"Well I don't!" he stopped me. "Just look at you
pal! Kneeling before those dogs of mine, drooling looks like something
you cannot pass by. Cause if you could, then wouldn't you? You were
sniffing my damp socks for Christ's sake!"
"But..."
"Don't you ever dare to speak again without permission. Seems
to me you're in need of a Master and your Master I will be"
his commanding tone making me wanna surrender to him, forget about
second thoughts.
"Now strip!" he ordered and I did, not figuring out what
for, just obeying. "See that hard on over there? That precum
leaking dick of yours? Well, consider it your signature to an enslavement
contract." And what a signature it was! Even compared to Matt
having a taste of his new given power, my dick was the one having
the best time.
"Remove the damn socks with your teeth, then start worshiping
my bare soles,” he ordered.
I did. Licked the soles, nibbled the heels, sniffed in between the
toes, then licked the soles once more. After all, that's what I
wanted all along.
"Know what? Seeing you like this reminds me of this girl I
once had that lived to take care of my every need. She even loved
to rub these dogs of mine when tired, which then I thought was weird.
Who could tell that a day would come when a friend of mine would
actually lick my every inch of sole with his own tongue!" he
laughed out loud.
Chapter 3
LIVING FOR MY MASTER: THE EPILOGUE
Six months have passed since that night and my life has completely
changed, having now moved in Matt's place as a roommate, well as
his slave that is. "Cause life is tough for us singles having
no woman, still a man, whether single or not, is always a man and
full of needs". He even blackmails me now with a tape he secretly
recorded on the second night we met. "In case you ever get
bored of sniffing and licking,” he said, to add a second later
"though rather impossible".
Indeed, Matt is a Master one foot slave cannot get bored of.
Sometimes I'll be forced to spend a whole afternoon on the floor
in front of the couch while he watches TV. To most people this might
does seem boring. To me, though, having those wide bare feet resting
on my face, looking enormous from that point of view as if ready
to crush me like a bug is more of what I call a dream coming true!
I remember when my parents first visited the apartment, both wondering
how two roommates share a one-bedroom house. For them, I admit,
it's hard to explain. Truth is, ordered at nights to sleep on the
floor next to Master's bed, what to have a second bedroom for? And
sleeping on the floor is just one thing. Master believes a slave
has to live in orders and rules, or else he'd make choices like
any free citizen. Which he's not.
So rules that is. I now have to keep Master's apartment clean, cook
for him, wash his clothes and underwear, satisfy his every need.
At first, that was like thanking him for letting me near his feet.
Later, also to avoid punishment. Finding one morning how ticklish
I am, he prohibits me walking barefoot, even made me use some sort
of moisture cream for the skin to be as soft as possible. Whenever
I fail to a chore, he will now tie me spread eagle to his bed and
tickle me from head to toes, well, mostly on the toes. I am now
one 24 years old guy with the tootsies of a little boy, the lightest
feather pushing me off the limits.
It would only be fair to mention that all these I have accepted.
Even to blow him for as long as without a girlfriend. Even the one
about being fucked if he ever felt like fucking me. Each and every
rule I have accepted to remain at his feet.
Hell, do I want to!
Hadn't been for that night, hadn't I been caught sniffing his damn
socks, I would never dare to admit it. Now it's all I live for.
For that kid I once used to make a fool of and now worship. The
scent of his feet, having been standing on his shoes and serving
drinks, or after a match with his teammates at weekends. For massaging
those feet, making them feel good. That's what I live for.
"We all knew you were the smart one since we were kids"
he often laughs about it, "and lusting over my feet a smart
choice it surely was. Cause these dogs of mine crave for a foot
slave’s attention 24 hours a day, 7 days a week". Yesterday,
coming back from the field, he brought two of his teammates home.
Four new soles for me to worship that were. Caught by surprise at
first, feeling a discomfort, still I faithfully obeyed. It's about
time I meet the rest of the team, he later told me.
THE END (a happy one, wasn't it?)
First attempt at writing a story. Feel free to share an opinion
at soul_tickler@yahoo.com
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