The Car Salesman: Part 2
by Bbyronbyrn0

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As in part 1 you might remember that I was ordered to get on my belly and crawl like a low-life to my new master (Tommy) and service his he-man feet.

I very leisurely moved over to Tommy (at this time his face demonstrated a look of pure dominance). I could not forget that right across from Tommy was my original master-BUD (who analyzed my every move, and was ready to beat me to a pulp if I did not remember my place-(and that was at the feet of real men). Even if I wanted to forget Bud, I could not; because Bud always seemed to make his presence well-known, for example when Bud threw his shoe at me and barely missed-I knew Bud was the person in charge and he was crowning a new guy to lead me by the nose (my so called friend Tommy).

You should have seen Tommy; he was so excited to have someone worship at his feet, his entire demeanor changed. Tommy was as keyed up as someone who just won the lottery, his face was glowing you could almost say that it was red in color; for a moment there I thought he might faint, Tommy was one happy individual. Me, well to be honest I was not in any way disappointed, at school I was giving Tommy's feet a few quick gazes, and why not-they were to die for. One day as luck would have it, it was 94 degrees outside, and that was in the shade-these southern days can be killers. Back to the story, Tommy decided to wear his blue flip-flops and you could have knocked me over with a feather; those feet looked so good; I could only imagine myself at those manly feet one day, but then my mind came back to reality; I should not be thinking of another guys feet-I was a stud, if anything they should be slobbering over the thought of worshiping at my feet-right??

Many times I wanted to tell Tommy that he had remarkable looking feet, but that would only increase his ego-and believe me his ego/head was big enough. One thing that Tommy did with his feet that drove me nuts and this may sound silly is this- we had history class together, and Tommy would sit in the chair kitty-corner to me. Tommy would cross his legs and shake one foot violently (like he was starting a race car), he would also do something to me; this made me look like a punk- and that was put one of his feet on my leg and rub up and down; when I looked over at him and told him to stop (because I would get hard) he would look me right in the face and say "bitch shut up and turn around-I will stop when I am good and ready and not before-is that understood; slave boy"-then laugh at the power he had over me.

I hated this humiliation, but what could I do- I was a punk; a slave to his feet. In my science class you might think that because Tommy was not in my class-I would have it easy (not). In my science class Tommy had his friend get the chair behind me; he would scarcely wear anything except for flip-flops, so his feet were always bare. He would then take his flip-flops off, and now his huge feet were expose; he placed both feet in my lap telling me not to worry-I took a shower; my feet are clean(yeah right) as he scoffed at my vulnerability.

One day I resisted him planting his feet on me (I was tired of being used as a foot mat-my mistake), and after class he took me outside (on the grass; where the bicycles were parked) and Tommy came from behind me and pulled my hair so that I laid on my back on the grass looking upwards to the sky, his friend then stood over me; looked down at me with a stupid grin on his face, and sat on my chest. Tommy's friends' feet were then placed on my face; and then I was told to do something that I never thought I would do- Tommy's friend then made me lick his bare feet and clean out the dirt amid his toes with my tongue. He inspected them and said now my feet are clean- let's go to class so I can use you as my personal footstool.

All I could do was follow my boss into the classroom and do as he ordered; after that day I never resisted. In my mind I knew how cruel Tommy and his friends could be and I would never forget my hard learnt lesson lesson-never. Now here I am at Tommy's feet, and I remember that Tommy may look like someone who may be sweet and innocent but because of his past actions I knew that Tommy was not a person that ever showed compassion-he is one cruel person, and as a master his cruelty would be amplified.

There I was looking up from the floor of the dealership at Tommy's feet, as Tommy rushed to take off his sneakers and socks to expose his size 9.5 feet. Above me were suspended two fine specimens of jock feet. Tommy had his feet so close to my face that I could smell the musky sweat from his feet. Tommy giggled as his feet swept across my face and my face tickled his godly feet. Bud then spoke up and said that he was glad that Tommy was thrilled having someone or something under his feet, but what the h--- are you doing Tommy? What do you mean asked Tommy? First, said Bud put your shoes and socks back on, then we will start all over again-I will show you how to use a foot slave (properly). What was I doing wrong, asked Tommy? You were so wound up; you were putting the cart before horse. You need to make him work for your feet said Bud-I mean what you think he is going to do, not follow your orders-both laughed as they flexed their muscles.

Now said bud, have a good time with your slave and make him service your sneakers. All of a sudden I saw these red converse sneakers coming down to meet my face, and remember when I told you that Tommy could be one deceitful person, well here is proof-Tommy knew from our earlier days that my weakness was men's feet; and his feet in particular. I watched his sneakers come close to my face, and he put me down the entire time; while Bud just sat at the opposite table and snickered the whole time I was insulted. The sneakers were finally planted on my face (thank heavens; it was about time), as Tommy ordered me to lick the crevices of his sneakers. I did a quick job and I guess that Tommy was not happy with my work- because he inspected the bottom of his shoe; a scowl appeared on his face, and then he turned beet red and his veins looked like they were ready to burst.

I remember him yelling at me and asking if "I thought his sneaker bottoms were clean" he stomped on my stomach and insisted that I redo the crevices to his sneakers-as I trembled being nervous not to mention scared to death; I cleaned his soles better than I ever cleaned before. Tommy re-inspected his soles and accepted my work as he pet me on the head telling me I was a good little slave. I thought that the sneaker humiliation was over and done with, and I might be permitted to move onto something else, but that was not in the cards as they say in Vegas. Tommy looked right into my eyes and determined that the tops of his sneakers were mucky/soiled (you know where the toes go), and he did not think that a person of his standing/importance should wear sullied sneakers in public-who was he- he was no one important; I mean he was not like Bud-a professional man in the neighborhood, all he was- was a rotten if not spoiled kid; but he was my master and he knew it.

Tommy demanded that the tops of his sneakers be spotless, and I was to clean them with my mouth-and he demanded that they be cleaned now not later, oh he was kind enough to let me also use my tongue. I did not want to have another guys foot in my mouth (not again), I mean in school in my younger years Bud would stick his toes in my mouth, and I wasn't going to have Tommy stick his sneakers in my mouth--I mean what was I ? So, when Tommy told me to open up wide, I just kept my mouth shut (pressing my lips firmly together). Oh Tommy said, that is the way you want to play this game, as he took his right leg and raised it in the air then brought it down crashing onto my stomach; and he did it with such force that my stomach was almost cherry color red and an imprint of his sneaker could be seen on my stomach; I was in excruciating pain, but I did not open my mouth.

I curled up in a ball and tried to protect my stomach from his devastating kicks, but the minute Tommy saw this I knew he would say something –and I was right. What do you think you are doing asked Tommy? Do I need to get Bud over here to make you spread eagle-I hope not. Now this is the deal boy, said Tommy-either you open your mouth now or else suffer the consequences. Oh yeah, I said- you're conning me (with sweat coming off my brow). Now you know me better than that said Tommy, you know I can one deceitful person, or should I jog your memory slave boy? No sir, I bellowed-that will not be needed, I knew better than provoke Tommy. The memories of Tommie's viciousness at school were cemented in my mind forever and ever. Let me be nice and tell you the consequences of not opening your mouth said Tommy.

1. I will get Bud to hold you spread eagle so that your stomach would be exposed to my kicks.
2. I will kick you in the stomach-until I am done-and believe me you will be in dreadful pain.
3. Next, by this time you most likely will beg me to stop kicking you and open your mouth on your own accord, if you do not I go to step 4
4. I would force my foot in your mouth, if a few teeth get broken or if I bust your lip-so what, you will suck my shoe.

All of a sudden, facing these four ultimatums-I felt my lips loosen as Tommy's sneaker inched its way to my face. Tommy's sneaker was so close to my face I could smell the rubber on his sneaker that was mixed with the smell of dirt. I slowly opened my mouth, but that must have been too slow for Tommy because of how he responded; he shoved his foot in my mouth. He tried to stuff as much of his sneaker in my mouth, and Tommy wanted his sneaker to enter my mouth as quickly as possible.

Tommy was impatient and wanted me to get to work on his sneaker; while I was in no hurry-and he knew it. Tommy started yelling at me and told me that I better hurry it up or maybe you need some motivation; with that he pulled the shoe out of my mouth and started the race car like he did in history class, when I saw this I lost control and took Tommy's foot and stuffed it in my mouth; while sucking away. That's it said Tommy Suck-baby-suck. You should have seen how white I got those sneakers-they shined.

Tommy even said that I was an expert at being a slave boy and sneaker cleaner.

End of part 2 part 3- I meet the sock-