Our fights were regular now. I was no match for Tim, he was too strong and determined. For hours at a time, at least twice a week, I was dominated by him.
I was learning more about his motivation. Some of it was driven by a need to satisfy his testosterone fuelled aggression. It was also a celebration of his physical prowess and superiority. At a deeper level, it pleasured him, to humiliate me.
One evening Tim turned up at the door, covered in sweat. He had just finished a rugby training and wanted to let off some steam. He asked if Jack was home and when I replied 'no' he put me straight into a headlock, and dragged me up to the bedroom.
I landed on the floor and he stood over me. He was shirtless but still wearing his white training shorts, ankle socks and white Nike trainers.
His feet were locked to either side of my head, I was trapped. I wasn't sure what to expect, was he going to pin me?
I felt his left foot on my face, his trainer was pushing into me. His intention wasint to crush me, but to show his dominance.
He clearly relished his foot control over me. My left eye was shut, but through my right, I glanced his muscular calf flexing over me and I caught sight of him, grinning.
When he was done, he studied the imprint of his trainers, ethched on my face. He demanded I untie his laces.
Tim's feet were back above my shoulders and locked around my ears, again. It was a struggle trying to untie his laces, as soon as I had, he ordered me to remove his trainers, one at a time.
I felt the heat from his trainers and was overwhelmed by the smell of his feet.
He forced his sweaty feet over my face, applying enough pressure so I couldn't escape. His socks covered my eyes, nose and mouth. They were damp with sweat and I struggled to breathe under them. I couldn't see anything either, just his white socks covering me.
I felt his toes attack me from inside his socks, gouging into me, smothering me. He found my weakest points and worked those aggressively.
The ordeal appeared endless. Eventually he was satisfied and I was exhausted.
There was no respite from his assault. His feet were off my face and I could breathe, but now I was in agony. Tim was standing on my biceps grinning. 'I submit Tim, I submit'..' Shhhh I want to hear that song'. On Spotify a song was playing. It must have been some random playlist, I'd never heard it before, but now I'll never forget it.
The song has a repeating melody and each time it repeated Tim pressured my arms with more force. About quarter of the way through I tried to submit: ' Tim aaah I submit'. Tim wasn't interested in showing mercy ' Shut up, I have to start that song again, don't interrupt'.
The pain was intense but the view was incredible. Tim standing over me, controlling me with his sweaty feet, those bulging thighs and his incredible upper body, towering over me.
When that song finally ended, he stood on my left arm to keep me pinned and removed his right sock. He repeated this until both his socks were off.
I felt his right foot on my face, his toes locked into my nose and his arch covered my mouth. Tim was controlling by breathing again. The smell and sweat were back, but more intense now. His left foot continued to pin my right arm.
I was stuck there under him and deeply aroused by his smell. Tim was having fun, playing with my face, smothering and dominating me.
He demanded I lick his foot. I had tasted his sweat before but this was more intense; part pure foot odour and part his unique jock smell.
Tim shifted from left to right foot, until he was satisfied I had licked, every drop of his sweat.
When he was done, Tim sat on my chest and pinned my biceps under his knees. He was expert at that. He would find a point of pain and focus on that for hours. Today it was my biceps and they were suffering.
He plugged my nose with his fingers and shut it closed. I struggled to breathe and opened my mouth. He forced his sweaty socks into my mouth.
Before I could respond, he was sitting on my face. I was buried under his ass sucking his sweaty socks.
He kept me there for over an hour, until someone messaged him and then he was gone.
For the first time that evening I had control again. I pulled his ankle socks out of my mouth and was able to breathe air that didn't taste of him.
My arms ached, I still felt his weight on me but I was free. I glanced over to the mirror on the wall and discovered I still bore the imprint of his size ten trainers.
My cock was so fired up I could hardly pull it out of my bottoms. I covered it with one of his sweaty socks and put the other, back in my mouth. I needed to cum in his sweat and taste him again.