He teased me. He was straight, he was my friend, and yes, he knew about my foot fetish. He talked about it joking terms. He was straight, had a girlfriend after all, was cute in kind of a out-of-time hipster hippie sort of way. But he was nice. He was fun. He was my buddy.
Oh, but he knew. Maybe he was just being a straight boy with privileges, thinking it was fun to mess around with some with such an obvious turn-on, but it almost didn't matter ... 'cos it was <i>him</i> that was saying. He ... that when he joked about feet to me once and I admitted such jokes kinda did things to me ... he called me "Feetmonster".
Fuck.
How was I supposed to reply to that? When a straight boy gives you a kinky fetish nickname? Maybe it was deliberate, maybe they were oblivious ... but he meant it. He called me it multiple times in a conversation. On my drive home from work. It's stunning I didn't crash. I should have, what with how much attention I was paying to the fact that a straight boy just called me "Feetmonster".
That phrase danced around in my brain, defining things. Conjuring feelings in me. I was hard the entire drive. How could I not be? My raging footboner, hopelessly addicted to male bare feet, recognized what it was being called. It submitted.
But I can't jack off in a car, so the second I got home, that pulsing footboner got a hold of my hands and forced me to type out an email to him ...
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Goodness, man.
You can't do that. You can't call someone "feetmonster" and expect to just walk away. You've given name to this side of the personality, and goodness it is here, it is in full force, and it is exactly what the name describes.
Goodness I pledge myself to the service of your feet should you ever require it. Truly. I'll put that in writing if you want.
Fuck. This is all very stream of consciousness, but just fuck. I really am The One and Only Feetmonster, aren't I? I want to embrace this role. Let's clear some things up then, shallllll we?
Perhaps the biggest misconception about feetmonster is that he is some sort of just overall dominant, kniving, unscrupulous sexual being that takes what it can get, but no, that's not the truth.
The truth is, this fetish works as well as it does on me because it leans right into my every submissive quality. I fucking love being submissive so much. For the other side of my life is constant work and sweat and control over so many variables, it is here that freedom is achieved, through the act of taking orders, of serving, of letting you have that power over me. Fuck, I *want* you to have that power over me. The power of your bare feet and soles and toes and me being 1000% unable to resist them.
You're such a nice guy, but I've caught those glimpses and hints of someone who takes control, who demands and expects respect, and the feetmonster, truly, wants to do nothing more than bow to your good graces, your whims, your needs, your everything.
There is no way this email is not rambling, but it felt important to put this out there just so you know, even if your response is just "Pfft, what a goof" before casually (oh so casually) deleting it. MAN I am so fucking submissive as I write this and hopefully you're just ... delighted. Amused. A bit shocked even (maybe? Hopefully). There is that part of me that hopes you enjoy reading this, of having someone put themselves out there for your total amusement. Someone whom you can call "feetmonster' at any time and immediately have them perk up and give your whole attention. Goddammit. Why am I writing all of this. BRAINSPLOSION
Anywho, just putting that out there. Wanted you to know what you've created ;) (no it's fine, it's just ... can't shake the mindset, ya know?). You can respond or not respond or do whatever you need to do.
If, on the off chance, you are peversely interested in knowing more, there is a whole separate email sitting in drafts that, should you want, spells out specific aspects in detail (don't worry -- it's nothing explicit), but HOLY SHIT I love bare male feet and it's insane to write this but I'm doing it so just wow.
Humbly yours,
--Feetmonster
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In most cases, this would be simple horny indulgence ... but not for Feetmonster, no. I ... actually typed his email into the "To:" line. Almost as a risk. Almost as a dare.
... then I hit send.
The rush, the feeling that burned through me, the erotic lightning that struck my body in sending such an abject confession to the 20-something that coined the term "Feetmonster" ... it was almost too much. I sat in horny, nervous anticipation.
He did read it. He messaged me the next day. "I have awoken the Feetmonster" he said, casually. I tried to play it off cool ... but I was a mess inside. This was too horny. Too golden. Too ripe an opportunity. I'd be an idiot if I didn't seize on it.
We talked about usual friend stuff -- music, movies, whathaveyou -- but the nickname was in the back of my mind, trying so hard to introduce itself into each and every sentence I chatted him.
A few days later, I sent him another email:
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Goodness gracious I need to see your bare feet.
As detailed extensively in the previous email, not only am I truly a foot obsessive, but goodness, how great it is to be submissive. To serve. Much less to just be open about it right here. Like, there's so goddamn much to be exposed here and you might not give it a second thought, deleting this right after.
But yes, ugh, is it terrible that I fucking LOVE being known for this? Like, you've known for a while, but when people message me (and for whatever reason, some perfect storm happened where a LOT of my straight friends were asking me about feet), I don't know man: it feels incredible. Clearly you got kinks right? Stuff that just sets it all on fire for ya? Honestly, the fact that you're being as kind and patient as you are and even reading this email and indulging all this madness is insane. It's really, really appreciated. I swear this won't happen again.
BUT WHILE WE'RE AT IT, just ... yes. Feet. Submission to feet. Please don't listen to dumb, articulate, sober me. That guy means well and tries to keep a straight face, but c'mon. We all know feetmonster is where it's at. You're probably too nice a guy to do anything, but the way you lightly prod and tease about being a feetmonster? Keep it up. Like, really. Goad the feetmonster out of him. The fact that you're even cool with another email coming is big deal, 'cos sober articulate guy is probably mortified as hell that you're reading this. Feetmonster is just laughing, giddy about it.
OH Man I wrote a lot more about desires and things but no, storing that away in another draft. It's there if YOU want it, 'cos it'll just make regular sober me blush like hell, but cut a lot out. This email is already a lot, no need to keep going, right?
OK I swear I'm stopping. Feetmonster is understandably eager, but am SUPER grateful for you being kind and patient and indulging this craziness. Feetmonster wants to make sure you feel desired, feetmonster really wants to beg for a pic, but for now we'll put feetmonster at bay, at beck and call, ready at a moment's notice, dumb and obedient. Glorious, no?
+ + +
What he responded to after that ... was stunning ...
The End
(For those curious, yes, I did write an actual fantasy email per the ones described, and here they are below)
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So you really do want to know more? Feetmonster is very very pleased by this. Feetmonster wants to serve. Here are the things Feetmonster wants most.
1> Very simply, to be called Feetmonster. Genuinely, you simply saying the name puts me in a state, in a tizzy, and I cannot get back to my regular self. You are welcome to and encouraged to call me it as much or as little as you like. Just know that in doing so, I will become instantly submissive.
2> Please, for the love of all that is holy, a photo of your bare feet. Tops of the toes, underside of the soles, in sandals, WHATEVER. Not to pull this card, but I have been intensely patient over some time, and guess what, dude? You're goddamn sexy. Head to toe. Especially toe.
3> Goodness, this is getting a bit forward, but what it would mean to me if I could ever massage your feet for you. I'd love to do it. Profoundly, deeply love to do it. I am so good at it but to make you feel better while interacting with your amazing bare toes and soles would just mean everything in the world. In a prefect world I imagine me doing it, relaxing you, your closing your eyes and tilting your head back while saying "That's right..." and truly take a mantle of control.
OK, I'll stop. Although if you said "More, feetmonster," I'd come up with a new list in a heartbeat, no matter how revealing or humiliating or desirious or whatever.
I am in your hands (and, ideally, at your feet)
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Oh but the things to do! Goodness. There's forward things I'd love to have happen and passive things that'd... just be great.
In terms of forward things, well ... I would love to massage your feet. To play with them. To make them just feel good. Goodness, i take it you may have never experienced it before. To have your toes sucked, I assure you, is a life-changingly pleasurable experience.
Indirectly? Well if you were feeling particularly naughty ... you could be a keyholder. Should I even tell you what's that for? You'd have a small physical key in your hand. But what it unlocks.... well, something tells me you can guess, and then surmise just HOW powerful you are with that key in hand.
