Sock Slave for Life
by Josh's Slave

<< Back to Stories Index

I met Josh at a party in small garage apartment.

There were very few chairs and I wound up eating from my paper plate seated at his feet. He sat above me in a comfy lounge chair. He was something off the pages of GQ magazine. Perfectly outfitted in designer clothing right down to his expensive Italian leather loafers and designer socks. He had piercing green eyes, close-cropped dark hair and the most adorable George Michael type razor stubble that added just the right hint of masculinity.

We were both drunk so I was not shy about commenting on his socks and offering that I had an insatiable sock fetish and that it was taking all the will power I had not to slip his shoe off and sniff his foot. Without hesitation this young god just smiled and placed one of his feet in my lap.

Long story short, I ended up lying on the floor in the middle of this party, with both his socked feet at my disposal. One on my chest which I was massaging, and one resting in my crotch. Josh claimed he had never met anyone who liked feet before, but that he was really getting off on the fact that his feet were making my dick hard.

We spent the night together. Began to date. And within a week I was head over heels in love with him, and he I. We were linked on many levels, both spiritual and political. Also emotionally we were at the same place in our lives. The only problem was that we were not so in sync sexually, at first. But once Josh started to really indulge my foot fetish He discovered two things. One - that he liked having a man down at his feet; and two, that the more he treated me like his personal servant the more I liked it, and the more I would do for him. In Short he discovered how fiercely I had become addicted to his feet, and to serving him, and inside of just 3 weeks of living together he became an expert at exercising that authority over me, and my life and lifestyle was forever altered:

Each morning I was expected to wake before Josh. Quietly slip out of bed and prepare his coffee. I was then expected to kneel down at the foot of the bed, slip my head under the covers and slowly, and lovingly lick the soles of his bare feet to lull him awake. Once awakened I would physically lift him into a sitting position and fluff the pillows behind his head and back. (Josh had decided he would not use a muscle to do a thing as long as I was present to do it for him). I would bring him his coffee tray in bed, tune the TV to his favourite morning show, and while he sipped coffee and watched the news, without saying a word I would suck his toes and lick in-between them, continuously until he ordered me to remove his tray.

He would say, "Hurry up, I need a foot mat". To which I was expected to immediately pull my shirt up to expose my back and throw myself face down on the floor alongside the bed so that when he sat up on the side of the bed his bare feet would come to rest on my warm shin rather than the cold hardwood floor. (my face and bare chest were resting directly on this cold hardwood floor, but that was ok as long as his precious feet didn't have to touch the floor) He would warm his feet on my back and dictate his breakfast order to me.

Then he'd bark "Roll over for morning worship". I would flip over and his feet would land directly in my face where I would smother them with kisses and in between each kiss I would give my morning prayer. " I worship you SIR. I Adore you Josh. I live to be beneath your feet. You and your perfect body are all I think of morning noon and night. I live to please you Sir. There isn't anything I would do for you my King. You are my god on earth and I will sacrifice my comfort, my money, my time, my own will power I surrender onto you my perfect Prince, just for the honor of having these precious. precious, feet in my servile face" This would last for as long as it amused Josh. Some mornings a moment or two, others a full half hour. And I didn't dare stop kissing or praising him for a single second until he interrupted with the one word command " Bathroom"

With that I would change my position on the floor. I would lie face down with the soles of my feet placed directly beneath the soles of my Master's feet as he sat on the bed. My body was no longer alongside the bed but outstretched away from the bed. My feet at his feet. My head lying directly in front of the bathroom door and a thick cushy bath mat. Josh would then stand up, literally standing upon my feet as I lay face down on the floor. He would then walk on me, from the bed to the bathroom, to avoid walking on the hardwood floor.

My head had to be turned sideways so that his final step, with his full weight, was to step on the side of my face and head just prior to reaching the bathroom. I would be required to stay in this position while Josh pissed and he would step on my head again, and walk down my back and legs to return to his sitting position on the side of his bed. I would then put his white athletic socks and leather Nikes on his feet for him and help him into warm-up pants.

Then it was down on all fours so he could ride me like a mule as I carried him to our home gym. While Josh worked out I cooked what ever breakfast he had ordered. When he finished his workout he would ring a bell. That meant I had exactly 10 seconds to stop what I was doing and assume my mule position between his legs so I could carry him to the breakfast table. While he ate I was made to crawl under table for my first "treat of day" I would then be allowed to remove the Nikes and bury my nose in his fragrant sweaty white socks all the while he ate.

He would call out "3 minutes" . that was my cue to quickly take off his socks and spend the final 3 minutes of his breakfast time licking the salty sweat from his hot tired feet. " I need my little slave to carry me to my bath" Once again he would mount me so I could carry him to his waiting bath and of course completely bathe him. He mounted me dozens of times a day. He walked nowhere so long as I was around to carry him on my back. After the shower he would walk on me to get to the bed whereupon he would lie down while I applied deodorant, powder, lotion, and fragrance.

He made me purchase, at great expense, an antique Barber Shop Chair. After completely dressing him, including zipping his pants and buttoning his shirt, He would sit in that Barber chair reading the newspaper while I blow-dried and brushed his hair, and then knelt down in front of him to shine the shoes already on his feet. And some point he would simply say " 2 minutes". That meant I, who am still stark naked at this point in time, had precisely 2 minutes to get dressed and be on all fours ready to carry him to the front door, open it, then race ahead of him to get the passenger side car door and open it for him.

I would buckle his seat belt for him and then drive him to work. He worked at a fine department store as a commissioned sales associate in the fragrance department and he made really great money. That and his store discount was why he was always dressed like a fashion plate. While Josh worked his first half shift, I would run home to do housework, make the bed, clean up the bathroom and the breakfast dishes and begin his lunch. I would then race back to the store to be standing there holding the car door open for him when he emerged.

Back at the house I would throw myself on the floor after opening the door for him, so that he could wipe his feet on my now shirted back. He would sit in an overstuffed chair whereupon I fell down on my stomach to begin worshipping his shoes and the socked ankles which protruded from them.

"I have missed you so much Sir. I hate it when you are gone. Thank you so much for coming home for lunch and allowing me the privilege of grovelling at your godlike feet. You are my world Sir."

"lick" he would say.

"You want what's inside those shoes? Your going to have to earn it. Lick the road dust of those shoes and tell me how much you love being my footslave" and I would do so.

"You may take off my shoes one at a time. Slowly, Kissing each and every inch of sock as you expose it."

"Yes Sir. Oh Thank you Sir. Thank you Thank you!" I would do as I was ordered. I would then fetch the lunch tray and place it in his lap, switch the TV onto Andy Griffith and assume my human foot stool status on my back beneath his now sweaty and fragrant, masculine socked feet fresh out of the finest leather dress shoes money could buy.

While he ate, he would use my nose as a massage tool and I lavish each foot with non-stop kisses.

Now normally at this point I would return him to work for his afternoon shift, during which time I would also get the bulk of my business done. I worked as an editorial consultant from my home, on-line.

Well about 3 weeks into this well rehearsed routine, I began to put Josh's shoes back on his feet at the appropriate time so as to return him to work at the end of his lunch hour but he pulled his foot back out of the shoe, kicked the shoe out of my hand, and then kicked me square in the chest..."Did I tell you to put my shoes on"......."No Sir, you didn't but..."..... ......"Yes or no will do. Did I tell you to put my shoes on?"......." No Sir"....Then get back down on the floor where you belong" ...."Yes Sir, Sorry Sir?

He smashed his foot into my face and what he had to say was at once disturbing, shocking, unexpected to say the least, humiliating, and as erotic as all get out. Josh very calmly informed me - "I am not going back to work ever. I was looking over your finances and there is no reason why I should have to work"

He continued …

"You make enough money consulting to support both of us. Furthermore if you stop buying things for yourself, and stop investing in stock you would then have plenty of money left each week to buy me anything and everything I might need."

I began to protest and he didn't yell, or scold me for talking back. He said very calmly - " let me finish. If you don't agree, I'll go back to work and forget all about this, but let me finish. Fair enough?" "Fair enough" I said "But I can tell you right now this is not going to be acceptable" "Shhhh now. Just let me finish. You are still my sockslave who worships and adores me , right?" "Yes Sir I am" "you still take orders from me and do what ever I say whenever I say, isn't that right"

"yes Sir, I love to take orders from you".....Then stand up and say nothing. I stood in font of him. He reached out and cradled my crotch in his hand, and as he fondled my package he asked " Who do you belong to" " I belong to you and only you Sir"

Do like this feeling, and played with my cock through my trousers. "Yes Sir. Very Much Sir" Who is allowed to touch you here. "No one but you Sir. Not even myself, at least not without your permission Sir" " That's right, and wouldn't you like it if I had more time on my hands to remember to reward you in this manner" "Yes Sir, I would like that very much"

"Stand quiet and look at my perfect eyes…I love owning you. I love seeing you at my perfect feet. But I need someone who is willing to provide me a life of total and complete luxury, free from mundane tasks of any kind. Out of my love for you and your needs, I have claimed you as my personal property and made you my FootSlave. That is an honor others slaves would beg and grovel for. Now you need to show your love for me by truly making me your King. And Kings do not get up every morning and go to work at a department store"

By now he has unzipped my pants and his masculine, yet soft warm hand in playing with my rock hard cock as I stand before him gazing into his hypnotic baby blues. " Now take off your pants and lay down on the floor where you belong" I did so. Now with one socked foot and my face and the other socked foot playfully volleying my exposed penis back and fourth Josh explained how my level of devotion deserved more than a part time Master. How my passion for feet and service deserved to be employed 24 hours a day, and how a mere store clerk was unworthy of my attentions. That I deserved to have a real Prince of Leisure, someone so special that he didn't have to work, someone whose sole interest in life was being pampered and served.

All this he explains while rubbing those feet in my face, on my dick, and up under my shirt all over my stomach and chest, and along the inside of my thighs. He said "I know I don't say it often enough, but I dearly love you my little FootSlave. I love you so much that I want to be here to give you the euphoria of serving me 24 hours a day. You deserve to be used constantly, not just intermittently, when I'm not at work. You should not be made to suffer my absence. Won't you allow me to show my love for you, my favorite piece of property, by letting me give you the gift of my constant presence?" Now, silently he squeezed my dick between both designer socked feet and began to jerk me off, saying only "This could happen every day. If you had me around more, so you could serve me more, you could earn this phenomenal privilege every day"

Then just as I was ready to come He pulled his feet away and said " Well we can't finish this. It's time for me to go back to work if I am going. The choice is entirely yours. I do not want you to speak. Either put my shoes back on and take me to work, or place my feet back on your dick so I can finish what I started and you can accept your complete and total 24 hour a day servitude and the rich rewards that will come to you for completely supporting your footMaster." There was dead silence for about 30 full seconds. No one spoke. My heart and my dick were pulsating. In silence I remained on my back, lovingly lifted and guided each of socked foot to my dick, and said "I live to please you Sir, 24 hours a day".

He stroked my dick just one time and then pulled his feet away "You understand that you can never leave the house,"

"Yes Sir" He rubbed my dick twice more and I was at a fever pitch again so it was agony when once again he pulled away. He said, "You understand that I require complete control of your checking and savings account."

"Yes Sir I do."

He started to put his feet back on my dick and pulled back yet again, but before he could say a word I grabbed his feet and began fucking them with my dick and shouted and screamed, " Yes Sir! Yes Sir! Yes Sir! I understand everything. I pledge my constant attention to your every need. I need your feet in my face and crotch Sir. I will do anything for you. I will Live at your feet 24 hours a day. Every cent I earn I will gladly turn over to you for you to use any way you see fit. My home is yours. My money is yours. My lips and crotch and mind are yours to bend to your will and use anyway you see fit just so long as I can have your feet on my body. I am yours to command Sir. I worship you. I Adore you. I am your property Sir"

Just then I shot a load like never before.

Before I could even catch my breath those socked feet where pressed into my face cutting off my air supply. Josh said very matter of factly " I own you now. What do have to say for yourself". As best I could, from beneath his feet, I muttered "Thank you Sir! I love you Sir".

He said "Good, we will never discuss my working ever again. From now on I am leisure class Royalty. Now get up on your knees and I will train you for your very first midday worship session.

"Yes Sir" was my only comment.

My life took a dramatic turn that day, and Josh would devise new and more subservient ways to use me with each passing day. There was no end to his creativity and imagination, and the more ways he dreamed up of having me show my devotion to him to more devoted and addicted I became. It was no longer sexual fantasy. It was no longer role play. I lost my identity and persona and became the slave he molded me to be. He never neglected my needs and in fact used that need (his feet and socks) as effective training tools.

After about 6 months I realized I actually thought of no one, nor anything at all, except Josh. Even working at my computer to earn our living, while he was asleep, the only way I could get through it was to remind myself " I am working for the glory of Josh". I became his 24 hour a day full time footslave, butler, cook, housekeeper, personal transpiration, hair stylist, manicurist, pedicurist, personal groom, welcome mat, foot stool, etc., etc.

By the end of the year I had willingly lost the ability to question. I questioned absolutely nothing. If it came out of his mouth I jumped to fulfill his every wish without a moments hesitation. He completely controlled my life with his feet and I was in heaven. His untimely death in an auto accident has left me devastated for years. I would now give anything to rekindle his memory by offering my face to the feet of any deserving young master, who like Josh, simply believes he deserves a life of luxury, and who understands the NEED to serve, of one who was born to be a total FootSlave! Come claim me young Prince. Press your socked feet into my face.

I am yours to command!