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<Authoritarian, m/m, high school, feet>
SERVANT TO A SOCCER STUD CHAPTER 28
"God, your wisdom and brilliance know no bounds," as both Tommy and I re-engaged fully in the passionate worship of every piece of manflesh on Kyle's incomparable wide and high-arched jock feet.
"Shut the fuck up, fag."
Then there was a knock at the door...
"Yeah?"
"Kyle, it's me."
"Come in."
Given the events of the past 10 minutes, I did not dare stop what I was doing -- which was a devoted sucking, licking and kissing of Kyle's right foot. Tommy just as fervently worked on Kyle's left foot. But my heart was pounding. The moment had come. One of my real classmates was gonna see my lips enclosed around another classmate's filthy big toe.
Kyle's doorknob turned. In walks Gemma Carter. If I wasn't gay, I'd find her very attractive. And since I am gay, I still knew she was attractive because she wouldn't be Kyle's girlfriend otherwise.
The first thing Gemma noticed was the completely naked Kyle Peterson, 17-year old jock stud, and his 8.5-inch cock pointed straight up at the ceiling. But then inevitably, Gemma's eyes landed on the two boys making mouth love to Kyle's feet.
"Oh, I see. So I finally get to meet your . . . hey wait a minute, is that you, Connor?" I guess my face was partially obstructed by Kyle's big sole. I knew it was not my place to answer without Master Kyle's permission, so I kept doing what I was doing. I wasn't silent though, since usually Kyle liked it when my French kissing sounds were clearly audible, thereby expressing my eagerness and enthusiasm, and the fact that I was so into Kyle and Kyle's feet. Sure, often Kyle did not want to hear a sound from me, in which case he'd tell me to "shut the fuck up, fag." But over a year of practice and I knew my audience, I mean, my Master. My baseline unless commanded otherwise was to moan and groan and have each French kiss produce a drawn-out sound of passion and desire (though not too loud -- especially if Kyle was also moaning and groaning -- his voice always took precedence over mine).
I don't want to digress too much from this key moment with Gemma, but I wish I could play you a tape recording (or even better, video recording) of what I'm describing. Maybe try this. Start kissing your own hand. Now start each kiss with your mouth pretty far open, like you're diving in for a suck. But it's a kiss, not a suck. Once your open mouth makes contact with your hand, close it by dragging the wet, soft inside of your lips (this is the main action of the kiss, and Kyle usually liked it prolonged and deep, with deliberate firmness tempered with delicate affection) along the skin of your hand. As your inner wet lips drag toward closing, your tongue must also amply lick to make the kiss French. This intense pornographic worship sequence easily makes a kissing sound at the end, just as a regular pucker kiss does. Now add moaning and groaning to the start of the kiss, generally have it proceed throughout the length of the kiss, and end always with the requisite sound of a traditional kiss.
Now replace your hand with Kyle's foot. That's right. Everything you just tried with your lips, tongue and mouth isn't applied to your, or anyone's, hand or mouth; it's applied to some dude's stinky feet. And in my case, it's applied that way all the fuckin' time. Unless otherwise commanded, every kiss I plant on Kyle's feet had to be that erotic in both touch and sound. And performing the task both took a lot of effort and was effortless. Let me explain. Getting really into a full, multi-faceted worship of Kyle's feet came very naturally to me. I did not need to manufacture my moans and groans; my sex drive creating those sounds was real. I did not need to manufacture the sound of my lips kissing Kyle's feet; the intensity of my desire for Kyle and his feet creating that sound was also real. But human beings do get tired hour after hour of doing the same thing -- even something as pleasurable for me as kissing Kyle's feet -- but the fact that I was not allowed to let up, well, that did take some effort.
So if my humiliation over the past year wasn't already sufficiently established (since before I wrote about sight, smell, taste and touch), let me make sure to add sound to the mix. All five senses at work. Picture the many, many countless hours I spent down at Kyle's feet. At least 60% of those sessions had me French kissing the daylight out of Kyle's feet just as I've described, sound effects and all. Frequently Kyle ignored me while I worshipped him that way. Picture that. When Kyle wasn't also enjoying himself with or without sound, but was merely lounging silently while I rather loudly expressed my sexual desire for my classmate's dirty feet: just picture what a degrading, humiliating position I put myself compared to Kyle. It wasn't just the locational difference of him above me and me low down at his feet; it was also the psychological state whereby I vociferously poured my sexual soul out to his smelly feet while he barely acknowledges my pitiful existence. And that got me hard instantly every time. Just thinking about it gets me hard.
But remember what I wrote many times before, Kyle also wanted variety. So I mixed in lots of other ways of worship, including performing these very audible French kisses while placing my hands on Kyle's foot, like I was really making out with it, like if I had my hands on a girl's cheeks or one on her neck while I was making out with her. Except I wasn't gonna have that experience with girls, and my hands were holding not onto anyone's face or neck, but onto Kyle's bare foot. Kyle's bare foot was who I was making out with. Kyle's bare foot was my dinner date, and my reward for paying for my date's meal was to hold "my date" in my hands and make out with "my date". And inter-spliced with all of that kissing action were the toe sucks, and the heel-to-toe licks, and the licks in between each toe, and using my teeth to dig under Kyle's toenails if they were long, plus of course the endless stream of compliments, begging and apologies I had to verbalize during the worship. But my baseline, the activity I did the most at Kyle's feet, was what I'll call, this Audible French Kiss with Supporting Hands.
Is was during my Audible French Kissing of Kyle's right foot with Supporting Hands that Gemma asked if I was Connor.
"Fag, shut the fuck up for a second." I immediately ceased making any sounds.
"Yeah, that's Connor, all right. He's been my fag servant for over a year."
"Wow, really? I thought it was some total loser, but Connor? I couldn't even imagine Connor being gay. How did this happen?"
Gemma was still partly addressing her questions to me, but I didn't even make eye contact with her. My sole focus remained on Kyle's sole -- sniffing, kissing, licking and sucking away on the feet of this incredibly handsome varsity soccer jock stud.
Kyle shrugged while he flicked his big toenail against my upper lip and landed it at my nostrils. "It happened 'cause he had the hots for me. Who could blame him? He's had a crush on me his whole pathetic life. He wants me to be his boyfriend. But since that's never gonna happen, he'll settle for whatever role I assign to him. So I made him my servant with me as his Master."
Gemma stepped closer to me and said, "Look at me, Connor." I dared not.
"Yeah, he's not gonna do anything until I give him permission. Ok, fag, stop that worship for a second and look at Gemma. Actually, I think you need to address her as 'Mistress'. She's my girlfriend, so that automatically makes her superior to you, so she should have a suitable title."
"Yes, Master," I intoned, then looked up at Gemma. "Good afternoon, Mistress."
"Wow," Gemma replied. "It really is you. Tell me, why are you doing this? If you're gay, you're gay, but why are you kissing Kyle's feet?"
"Because Master Kyle is a straight stud, and there's no one else on earth like him. Maybe someday I'll have a boyfriend, but I didn't want to waste this opportunity with the Number 1 Man of my dreams, even it it means being his servant. Plus, I love jock feet, and Master Kyle lets me make out with his jock feet. So ... really, it's a win-win for everyone."
"Yeah, I guess he is pretty hot. I still can't get over the whole foot thing though. It's nasty as fuck." Then she turned to Tommy. "And who's this other guy? He looks older than us."
"That's because he is. He's Tommy, a classmate of Brad's, so yeah, he's like 20 years old. He actually started worshipping Brad before, and Brad told me about him, even gave me the inspiration to turn Connor. Now he worships the both of us." By then, I had resumed my worship of Kyle's feet (first by planting a bunch of delicate kisses on the toenail that flicked my nose as an apology to the toenail), and Tommy had never stopped.
Gemma was starting to adjust to reality. "So ... why am I here?"
"You're here, babe, because first, Connor needs to be punished. He disrespected me just now like he'd never done before. So I'm basically outing him ... at least to you -- but don't you dare tell anyone else for now, got it?"
Gemma shrugged. "I've know you've had a slave since that first time Connor had all that make-up on. If I really wanted to find out his identity and out him, I could've done so all this time. Whatever. I like that he keeps you happy, so I'll keep his little secret."
Kyle smiled, "Good girl. The second reason you're here is I wanted to feel the sensation of three people worshipping me at the same time. And it's your lucky day, 'cause you get my cock and the two fags have to stay at my feet."
"Oh yeah?" Gemma stepped toward the bed.
"Wait. Take your clothes off first. It's not like the fags will be interested."
Gemma laughed and stripped. She really was a blond bombshell. The only reason I didn't put her at Kyle's level of attractiveness is because I'm gay.
"Good, now wrap those lips around my cock, baby."
Gemma readily complied. Kyle was right: she was lucky. Tommy and I both salivated at sucking Kyle's cock, but we weren't gonna get to do it then. Gemma obviously still wasn't as good sucking cock as Tommy and I were, but she was getting better. We heard the sound of Gemma sucking, but didn't really take any time looking at her, since we had our own jobs to do. Kyle sighed contently. Here he was, rock hard, with a beautiful chick's mouth working on his cock and two submissive, obedient fags at each of his feet. Kyle really was a God.
But Kyle wasn't done with his cruelty to me. "Gemma, spin your legs around so that your feet are also in the fags' faces. You are their Mistress, after all, and they should be worshipping you, too. And you should be calling them 'fags', not by their names. Or use my nicknames for them: I call Connor 'cunty' and Tommy 'shit stain'."
Gemma lifted her head up and spun around. Now her feet were in about the same position as Kyle's. Now you other gay foot fetishists out there know that our foot fetish is only for the male foot, for guys' feet, the more jock the better. We have no interest in the female foot. So what Kyle was about to have us do gave us no sexual pleasure. But to satisfy or amuse Kyle, we would do anything, and, in Tommy's case, he had already experienced this many times. Brad had often had sex with a girl, and Tommy was made to worship both their feet during their intercourse. But I had never done anything like this with a girl.
"Actually, Gemma, no. Tommy, you stay at my feet. Gemma, move a bit over so that Connor has to focus on your feet. Oh, and cunty, if you dare worship Gemma's feet one iota less well than how you worship mine, I will fuckin' kill you."
I shuddered, and not in a good way, but I had no choice. Tommy gave me a look, but quickly resumed his own worship of hot straight stud jock feet, while I was relegated to a girl's feet. Knowing Kyle's instruction, I began the Audible French Kiss with Supporting Hands routine that previously I had only ever performed on Kyle and Brad. I don't even want to spend time describing Gemma's foot, how it smelled, or how it tasted. None of those things gave me any pleasure. And remember I said that the Audible French Kiss with Supporting Hands routine had an aspect of effortlessness with Kyle's feet? Well, that was completely gone with Gemma's. Now it was 100% all effort -- to produce the moaning and groaning, lip dragging, tongue licking, audible smacking and hand massaging repeatedly on a girl's foot was pure torture. But I had to obey Kyle's command: not one iota less effort!
Gemma paused her blow job for a moment and said, "Connor's really into it!"
"Yeah, 'cause he's following my command. Trust me, he hates doing this -- 'cause you're a girl!"
After 15 minutes, the hot soccer captain gave his next order, "Shit stain, come up here." Tommy left Kyle's feet and crawled to the side of his bed. "Hey there Tommy," Kyle suddenly said affectionately. "Wanna suck on my nipples?"
I nearly had a heart attack. What? I had never, ever been allowed to worship Kyle above the waist -- not even once yet after all this time, and now Tommy was gonna get to make contact with Kyle's nipples? I was instantly jealous and deeply distressed.
For his part, Tommy, too, was a bit stunned. He knew from my complaints that I really wanted to suck Kyle's nipples -- as seemingly had been promised by that A-Z remote control over a year ago -- but Kyle still never uttered the corresponding letters. But Tommy made sure to reply quickly (still stuttering even more than usual), "Of course, God, yes. It would be an honor for my fag mouth to suck your nipples."
"Good! So here's what we'll do. Gemma, I'm going to fuck you with you riding my cock facing me. Tommy, you're gonna make mouth love to my nipples. And yeah, cunty, you get back to my feet. Just be thankful I'm letting you back at my feet instead of Gemma's. I'd have kept you at hers except now I want maximum pleasure from three holes at once in three different places on my bod -- two fag mouths at my nipples and feet, and one wet pussy on my cock." I noticed that no one was reaching for a condom; I guess Gemma was on reliable birth control at this point.
More importantly, I was devastated. Kyle was indeed punishing me hard. It was worse than slaps and kicks. He was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually draining me from every angle -- reducing me to feel inferior, jealous, resentful, and nonetheless pathetically desperate all at the same time. He had outed me to Gemma, he had made me kiss and lick her feet, he was gonna let another fag do what he had never let me come close to doing, and to top it all off -- in this first 3-on-1 worship-fest, I was dealt the lowest position.
And yet, after no more than another minute, I completely changed my thinking and feelings. First, Kyle wanted this, and this was gonna make Kyle happy, possibly help him win this county championship game as varsity soccer's senior co-captain. Second, I was still gonna spend time with my favorite things: Kyle's feet. Who cares what anyone else was doing? I get more uninhibited time with these size 11.5 beauties. I didn't even wait for any further signal and lunged at Kyle's feet again. I stared at them hard. Every bit as amazing as when I first faced them up close. I'll simply repeat what I wrote in Chapter 2.
Like the rest of him, his feet were beautiful. High arches and long toes. I couldn't see the veins from this position, but I knew from staring at the tops of his feet in flip flops before that there were bluish veins adding even more masculinity to his feet. And hairs on the toes, with the second toe ever so slightly longer than the big toe. And toes that were very jointed like you find on a lot of jock feet, with the joints angling more upward adding to toe length and sexiness. Must also improve athleticism or something. Being that close, my face could also feel the warmth radiating from them. I desperately wanted to kiss his feet.
And like that first time, I did. Yes, my technique had greatly improved to the Audible French Kissing with Supporting Hands. Yes, there were other living things in the room. But the basic core, the core truth Kyle reminded me about earlier that day, was that I was deeply, madly in love with these gorgeous jock feet. So again, without waiting for anyone, I went for it -- moaning and groaning, sucking and licking, French kissing audibly, massaging with passion and respect, and breathing in every intoxicating molecule.
Even Kyle was surprised by this development, but he satisfiedly did not stop me. He let me stay in my own little heavenly world. "All right, get to it, the rest of you," Kyle's now coarser voice ordered. Gemma in kneeling position sat her wet pussy onto Kyle's about-to-burst cock. Tommy began his version of the Audible French Kiss with Extra Sucking on Kyle's quarter-size nipples. After two minutes, even as everyone was making a good deal of noise, Kyle's voice became the loudest. It had been over an hour and a half since today's worship session first started with just me and Kyle. Kyle's balls had been churning and churning all afternoon.
Kyle: "Oh yeah, baby, ride my cock."
Gemma: "Oh my God, it's so huge. It feels so good, you stud."
Kyle: "Yeah, shit stain, you stupid fag, suck on those nipples."
Tommy: "Thank you, God. You are magnificent, majestic, and all MAN. I am so lucky you let me be here to serve you."
Kyle: "Fuck, that feels good, cunty. Dumb fuck. Dumb gay fuck in love with my smelly feet."
Me: "That you, God-foot. Thank you so much for letting me French kiss you. I am so, so sorry for disrespecting God earlier, and I know He will punish me more, and I deserve His punishment. I will do anything to earn even a bit of forgiveness from Him."
Kyle: "Shut the fuck up, fag."
With that, Tommy and I stopped talking so as to concentrate our mouths to flood Kyle with pleasure. Only Gemma continued her moans and groans, while Kyle also continued to express his intense pleasure and arousal. It was your regular teenage boy-girl sexual intercourse, except this teenage boy, this varsity soccer stud, had two extra mouths on his body to multiply his pleasure. With all that concentrated energy lavished on him, Kyle's manhood was ready to climax.
"Oh fuck, I'm cumming, you faggots. Uggggggggh! ... Uggh! UGGGGGHHHH! ... ... Uggh! Ugggh! ... Ugggggh! .... Uggh! Ugh!" At least 8 spurts of cum in varying degrees -- right up Gemma's soft pussy. Kyle continued to breathe loudly for a bit longer, then shoved Tommy off his chest. "Get the fuck off, you dumb fuck." Classic. Used and the immediately useless. Tommy landed hard on the floor and immediately crawled back to his place next to me. (I secretly cheered the fact that as he came, Kyle only addressed his two faggots. That little detail gave me hope that maybe Tommy and I had a greater role in Master Kyle's sexual release than he would ever consciously admit.)
Gemma then lifted herself off of Kyle's spent cock. Her pussy was dripping wet.
"Shit stain, take cunty's place at my feet. Cunty, get the fuck up here and suck my cum out of Gemma's pussy."
I didn't dare hesitate. Another brand new experience for me. Up to that point, I had sucked Kyle's cum out of a used condom, and did taste some pussy juice that time. (Chapter 25.) But I had never actually put my mouth on a pussy. But if it was to get a taste of Kyle's cum -- no, if it was what Kyle commanded -- then I was gonna do it.
So I approached, maybe not as quickly as I should have, but eventually my face got there. I could smell both cum and pussy -- the pussy part much stronger obviously than what was left that time on a condom. Didn't matter. I dutifully began to suck. I'm sure much of Kyle's cum made it to where my tongue couldn't reach it, but I got an ample serving nonetheless. For her part, Gemma must have already orgasmed (seriously, Kyle was such a stud that even at 17, he could usually make that happen during sex), so only made slight giggling noises as I ate her pussy. When my mouth was half full (I tried not to swallow anything, though with each suck, some swallowing inevitably happened), Kyle said, "Ok. You know what to do, fag."
I sure did. I went to Tommy, started kissing him, and deposited half of the load in my mouth into his. Then I dribbled my portion onto Kyle's right foot, while Tommy dribbled his portion onto Kyle's left foot. No verbal instructions needed to be exchanged. Both Tommy and I knew exactly what to do. Then each of us had a grand time lathering each foot with the cum-pussy-mixture, then re-eating it back into our respective mouths, this time swallowing appreciatively with each gulp. No, it didn't taste as great as if it was just Kyle's cum -- that's a given. But it was still Kyle's gift to us, and we were to accept it with gratitude. While we obediently performed that degrading task, Kyle had already grabbed Gemma and resumed making out with her on his bed -- a post-coitus unwind. The Master and Mistress enjoying themselves, while their slaves enjoyed themselves. When Kyle was completely satisfied and his feet were once more 100% spotless, Kyle dismissed everyone. Kyle said he'd see Gemma tomorrow, but told Tommy and me to come back at 9pm that night for more "fun".
We couldn't wait ...
TO BE CONTINUED ...