title: The Foot Slave aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [Toetoy] id: [48634534] date: 星期五, 八月 26日 2022, 10:48:43 上午 modified: 星期一, 九月 5日 2022, 10:49:17 上午

[TOC]

The Foot Slave

Author: Toetoy Source: The Foot Slave

When a skitty pokemon named Missy finally risks it all to get a taste of her crush's sandals, she may end up stuck with him for the rest of her life.

It was a blazing hot day as the skitty watched from beneath a large sprawling tree, the shade doing little to help as the dry heat seemed to rise from the ground. The small pokemon was on a mission, ignoring how her skin felt singed by the baking warmth wrapping around her. She wiped sweat dripping from her pink-furred forehead, too focused to care about her own well-being or potential heat exhaustion.

Missy wouldn’t call herself a stalker, moreso an admirer from afar. The heat seemed to bore down on her with greater intensity than the previous couple days - or weeks - she’s watched her crush hard at work. The pink and yellow feline would hide in the thick brush of a nearby forest, all day, every day, trying to work up the courage to ask out who she believed to be the love of her life. But she never approached, never having the willpower to risk rejection. For now, she could fantasize and daydream as she watched him labor in the summer temperature.

If one noticed her bright colors amongst the undergrowth, which was unlikely, and followed her eyeline towards the open storage site, they would see a massive figure grunting in the heat as he went from a crouched position to standing up, the muscles rippling across his shirtless back as he revealed his incredible height and form. The Wailord was named Will, but Missy was more concerned with the sweat drenching his large blue back as it faced her. Will had lifted a rather hefty crate, all on his own, impressing his crush as she stalked him. But what was more impressive to her, as he turned around, facing the skitty’s direction, was his broad shoulders and thick forearms, muscles bulging and tensed as he strained to lift the equivalent weight of a small house. Any other day, this display would be intimidating. Sexy as sweat dripped off the masculine form, but scary nonetheless.

But today was different. Somehow Missy felt more confident. Maybe the heat finally fried the tiny feline’s senses, or maybe she was just too sleep-deprived to be rational enough to stay put, but she had the strong urge to go over and ask him out. Everything in her mind told her not to: her height of only 2 feet made it dangerous to approach the comparatively giant Wailord; bothering him at work could anger him or get him in trouble; and not to mention the possibility of rejection - and thus a whole summer of dotting over him wasted.

The thud shook the ground even from where Missy sat when the Wailord dropped the crate in its proper spot. Will wiped the sweat off his brow and flung it to the floor, creating a puddle of sweat. Missy’s mouth never felt drier. He kicked off his sandals, them feeling more restraining than useful at this point, and departed to retrieve another crate. Missy practically drooled as she saw the flip flops resting in the sunlight, steam visibly wafting off the baking fabric, the imprints of the whale’s feet deep and dirty. She had to get a closer look. The feminine feline was an admirer of the male body… especially the part she would be closest to at her diminutive stature. In other words: she had a huge foot fetish.

The skitty scurried across the field between the treeline she hid in and the fenced warehouse, rapidly approaching her destination. As she crawled under the fence, her heart pounded. She could practically feel it in her ears, as if it were a drum beating directly behind her, she was so nervous. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowed down as she neared the massive sandals she’s admired for so long. Rather, craved.

At this point she was basically tiptoeing over to the flip flops, already smelling the thick scent of masculine feet as she approached the source of the delectable aroma. Missy finally got close enough to touch it. The whole world seemed to disappear as she stood in the direct path of the wafting, steaming musk. It was all she could think of, all she could focus on, as the scent flooded her nostrils and burned her lungs like a good hit of a vape. And just as addicting. She breathed in the fumes, closing her eyes as she let it take over her senses. Foot musk, the pheromones tingling in her nose and tickling her mind as it claimed her.

And in an instant, she fell down onto the sandal, practically throwing herself on it like a rabid animal, not holding back. The feline could feel the squishy sole made rough with months of use, months of heavy stompage flattening the apparel. Sweat leaked out of the drenched fabric, both old and fresh, as her weight pressed down on it ever-so-slightly. She knew she was barely scratching the surface of the perspiration the sandal held, it feeling like a tease as it spread over her stomach fur, slowly dampening it until she was as soaked as the Wailord’s insole. She wanted to feel like his insole.

She rubbed her face along the dirty imprints of Will’s toes, the skitty reveling in smearing grime onto her cheeks. It felt like she was degrading herself for the sake of her crush and she loved the feeling, even if he didn’t even know she existed. Missy was dirtying her face with stomped dirt, letting herself turn into the insole she wanted to be.

And this is not even mentioning the best part. Her favorite part. She huffed, feeling the thick musk congeal in her lungs. She wanted all her air to come from Will’s feet. Missy didn’t realize just how hot this would be - it was better than she could ever imagine! The real thing put her fantasies to shame. It was almost too much, almost too overwhelming. The scent wrapped around her mind, taking over as she went into autopilot, letting the humid masculine pheromones control her. She started licking the insole, letting the grimey taste of feet overwhelm her tastebuds as dirt coated her tongue. Missy let her tongue get deep into the crevice of the toe-indent, which she was impressed was as big as her head. That only made her hornier and lick faster, wanting to ingest as much of it as possible to impress her crush - even if he’d never notice. All while she continued huffing the strong scent…

The feline was too stuck in her own world to feel the rumblings of the ground, the tremors that formed as the massive Wailord stomped his way back over to his sandals slowly. His feet caused sweaty imprints on the floor as the heat burned his soles. Will realized he really needed his flip flops with how hot the sun made the ground. He huffed, straining as he held a massive crate several tons in weight, trying to see over the top of it. His massive, thick, sweaty chest and broad shoulders pressed against the box would be a sight Missy would pay to see had she been paying attention.

Alas, as Will approached where he remembered to have put his sandals, his vision impaired, Missy was too stuck in her own musk-high to even consider the possibility of a massive foot descending upon her. In an instant, literal tons of pressure squeezed against the feline’s back as the nasty sole wiggled against her, scraping grime onto her back as it barreled past her to secure itself in the straps. Missy was snapped out of her daze a moment too late, her scream of terror - fear of being crushed flat - was muffled by a large toe the size of her head slamming down onto it.

The weight of the whale, plus the massive box he was carrying, settled onto her as he lifted his other foot to put it in the pairing sandal. It squeezed from all angles, pressing her so deep into the fabric of the insole that she felt as if she was merging with it. Sweat poured out from the sandal, all the retained perspiration that had teased her before coming up in a single moment, soaking her entire body in just a second. It was almost too much, she couldn’t breathe. All she could feel was a tidal wave of reeking sweat drenching her. Missy’s popping bones struggled to face the weight as she was buried into the grime.

And the scent flooded her clogged airways. Even when she couldn’t breathe due to the pressure trapping her lungs, she felt it idly slamming into her nostrils, jolting up to her brain fresh from the source. Basically hypnotizing her, calming her mind as the masculine musk made her subservient. She was put into another musk-high, the scent keeping her at bay as the heat from Will’s sole seared her back painfully, and as sweat threatened to drown her as it dripped into her nose and mouth.

Finally the tiny feline was able to breathe as the foot the length of her body lifted, taking her with it, plastered against his sole. All the breath Missy could take in was tainted with the strong, humid scent of Will’s feet, further adding to her addiction as it was all she could inhale. Then just as fast as the foot lifted, the whale stomped back done, squeezing the air out of her lungs like toothpaste. It became clear that the unaware Wailord controlled her every move. He controlled when she was allowed to breathe, he controlled what she was allowed to breathe, he even controlled her only source of hydration as he sweated fresh perspiration for her to drown on and lap up like an obedient kitty.

And Missy loved every second of it. Eyes lidded, she continued to lick his insole whenever she was allowed to breathe, timing it perfectly with his steps. She managed to completely clean the toe imprint her face was forced against, eating it all up like it was her favorite meal. Yet she craved the real thing - despite the constant, near-fatal pressure, the real torture here was that she was facing away from the massive, sexy sole. She needed to clean the real thing.

Will had noticed, for a split second, a difference in his sandals. Specifically his right sandal, which felt softer and lumpier than before. But his laborious job distracted him from the sensation, his mind never to return to the skitty he didn’t even realize he was stomping on as he panted and continued to lift various packages and crates, organizing them into various areas. His job was a lot of lifting and a lot of walking, all in direct sunlight. Heat and manual labor made him sweat an insane amount, the whale feeling like he was in the ocean with how much musky liquid dripped off of him. His feet squelched with every step, the sweat accumulating onto his poor, overused, stomped-flat sandals. And despite all this, he was proud of his job. He was the only pokemon he knew of in the area that was big enough and strong enough to consistently do this, which gave him a sense of purpose as he stomped away.

Hours passed, Missy getting flatter by the minute and further attached to the sole she had always craved from a distance. By the end of the shift, she truly believed she was one with his feet, thinking of herself as a loyal accessory that was there to serve her master, musk drunk and dizzy. She had gulped up gallons of sweat, hydrated by it so much she thought her body subsisted off it, like all the water in her body was replaced by the Wailord’s musky sweat. She had grown used to the pressure and the weight and the grime, loving it all more than she ever expected. And after this experience, her dazed mind concluded that she would never want to trade this for anything else - this is what she wanted for the rest of her pitiful life. Serving Will’s soles gave her life meaning and purpose; this is what she was made for.

Will finally clocked out. He sighed and wiped his brow yet again, exasperated and exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to get home and rest. He said goodbye to his boss, whom he towered over, and promised to see him the next day. Will still had a long walk home before he could relax, but he enjoyed the peace of the walk through the forest. All he could hear were the sounds of nature and the squelching of his soaked-through sandals and he decompressed, thinking he was all alone. The Wailord didn’t even notice that as he stomped through the path, his feet left craters in the ground, and picked up more dirt to compile on his dirty insole, only to be stomped down into foot grime by the end of his hike.

Little did he know that he had a companion this whole time, one who was glad to have more foot grime to lick up, feeling a renewed purpose in her half-conscious musk-daze as she worked to clean her portion of the sandal.

Once Will arrived home, he unlocked his door, opened it, and walked into the breeze of the cooler indoors. He let out a content sigh as he kicked off his sandals, locked the door, and essentially tore off his shorts, leaving only a tight pair of briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

He padded over to his couch and plopped down, sitting for the first time in hours. Will groaned with pleasure as cool air touched his sweaty bulge, cooling it off and feeling extraordinarily nice. The couch creaked as he adjusted himself, his weight barely contained by the relatively tiny furniture.

Will felt as if he could fall asleep right there, but instead decided to bask in the pleasure of the fresh air. The Wailord considered jerking off right here, his pent-up package waiting for release. He pressed his feet into the floor to raise his midsection so he could lazily shift out of his underwear. But that’s when he felt something on his toes - something he felt all day but never stopped to consider it. Raising an eyebrow, thinking it was probably some toy or something he stepped on a few hours ago, he raised his foot to rest on his knee.

The Wailord let out a huge gasp, eyes wide. Shock penetrated his whole body as he grimaced, feeling immensely horrible. Will quickly took his finger to tap the deflated skitty squished against his sole to check for signs of life. His massive pudgy finger pressed against her entire stomach, hoping for a reaction. The skitty instantly came to life, gasping and panting. The Wailord let out a sigh of relief, but was still incredibly worried. The feline looked flat, her fur ruffled and disheveled, as she was nearly completely compressed into Will’s rough but squishy sole. If he felt his foot, it would seem like there was nothing there, that’s how flat she was. Her fur dripped with sweat, her mouth basically drooling with lust, and her whole body reeked of feet.

Will cautiously peeled Missy off, her fur almost tearing as a loud scraping sound filled the room. Finally, her defeated body managed to get free, a Missy-sized indent still on his sole. Mouth agape in shock, the whale placed the skitty between his feet and looked down at her, his whole massive body looming over her as his elbows rested on his knees.

“Oh geez…,” the Wailord muttered, looking over the tiny feline’s poor state, “Are you alright? I’m so so sorry, oh gosh. How did this happen? I gotta clean you up and take you to a doctor to make sure you’re ok! Geez, I’m so sorry for stepping on you!”

Missy’s hearing slowly came back after getting deafened by hundreds of thooming stomps sent straight to her ears. She pieced together the Wailord’s rambling apologies as she finally came to her senses. She had to spit up a bunch of foot sweat to clear her airways as she gasped for breath to speak.

“I-it’s ok… I-I…,” she blushed, just now realizing how humiliating what she wanted was now that the moment had finally arrived. She had dreamed of this for months, and she didn’t want to screw this up, especially now that she had gotten a taste of her musky heaven - an experience better than all her dreams combined. She couldn’t live without it if she messed up here.

The Wailord cocked his head to the side, confused, before leaning down to hear the skitty’s faint voice easier. His crotch squished as his stomach pressed into it, making his obvious bulge spread out sexily over Missy and waft his masculine musk straight into her open mouth. She salivated as she huffed it, her addiction further fueled by this display, making it much easier for her to spit out what she truly desired. What her true purpose was.

Will questioned again, “You what? Are you ok? I didn’t stomp away your ability to speak, did I?”

Missy sucked in some musky whale air before blurting out, “I love your feet! I want to live off them! I-I…,” her face got incredibly red, “I want to drink all your foot sweat and breathe all your foot scent! It smells delicious, and I love it! T-These past few hours have been heaven, sir, I can’t live without your feet! I-I think I’m addicted! I already feel lightheaded without them, I need to breathe between your toes for the rest of my life! I want to serve you, to lick clean your feet every day! I want to subsist off your toe jam and foot grime, eating nothing but what you cook up all day at work! I want to be your slut!!”

She spoke all that in one breath, panting and blushing in embarrassment after she finished, staring up at the massive dumbfounded face of the Wailord. Seconds seem to pass like minutes, stretching on as she eagerly awaited a response. Will was shocked. He had no clue what to say, never expecting anything like this to happen in a million years. Yet here he was, somebody wanting to devote their entire life to him… to his feet. He was flattered but also weirded out.

Missy couldn’t wait any longer, her addiction poking at her mind like a pestering bug. Will took way too long to come up with a reply so she jumped to action, practically throwing herself onto the foot she has been desperate to have for so long. Or rather, desperate to have her. She used all her might to lift up the foot, looking lustfully at the sole that she’s been unable to taste all day.

And she went to work. Lapping at the ball of his foot, up and down, in rapid, long licks, trying to simultaneously savor it while getting as much as possible. Her first lick wiped a long strand of his sole clean, her feline tongue perfect at gathering up all the grime plastered to the bottom. She swallowed all of it gladly, not daring to look up to see Will’s reaction - not wanting to risk seeing him grossed out. Missy just kept working, pressing her whole body against the foot. At this point, she was basically humping it, sexily rubbing her body against it as she held the foot her size in her grasp, licking it like she was making out with a lover.

The skitty licked around the toes, feeling the Wailord shiver at the sensation as she chewed up his toe jam, making a show out of swallowing it and gasping in pleasure. The taste was as rancid as the scent of his foot, caked with his sweat, and she loved it. She loved how it stained her taste buds. The real thing was much better than the insole, much fresher and livelier, earthier and muskier and saltier, whereas the sandal had a taint of rubber. She had been missing out and wanted to make up for lost time. Her bruised body kept working as if it were fresh, ignoring her complaining joints that had been stomped on all day. She needed to prove she could handle this new life she so desperately, so eagerly craved.

Suckling on a toe, she finally looked up towards Will’s face, looking like a baby sucking on a bottle, her eyes pleading for an answer. Pleading him to keep her like a pet.

Will couldn’t deny it - seeing somebody so devoted to such a lowly part of his body turned him on. The display was so slutty. It wasn’t the feet part that attracted him, it was seeing such a pristine feminine form degrading herself to please him. If she was willing to serve the dirtiest, smelliest part of his body, he guessed he could get her to do anything he pleased. His thought slowly turned dirty as he groaned in the pleasure of her wet tongue tugging at his sole and between his toes. He wiggled them and splayed them, and then as a test, squeezed them together while Missy’s tongue was between them.

His thoughts getting hornier and more corrupted, he forgot about all the worry he had. His crotch grew in size as it pressed against its thin confines, the smell of a horny smell filling the air with thick pheromones that only had Missy get hornier and work harder. She was his slut, and all he wanted now that he had her was to claim her as his. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know her name, that was useless information. He grabbed his dick and started stroking through his underwear, pre dribbling onto the fabric. He could call her anything he wanted and she’d love it.

He looked into her pleading eyes and grinned, pressing his foot downwards to pin her against the ground. Will watched her get squeezed, and still make out with his toe. Still eager to serve, despite being bullied by his foot. He stood up, pressing his weight down onto her. The Wailord’s immense weight threatened to crush her to a pulp but she managed to be sturdy enough to handle it. Perfect. He could still feel her wet tongue suck on his sole, tasting HIS taste, breathing HIS scent.

Will started grinding his foot down, crushing the poor skitty. And she kept humping the foot, even as she grew increasingly immobile. Increasingly compressed into the sole. Dirt scrapped onto her body, which was now completely smeared with his foot grime. He slowly lifted his foot, still stimulating his dick, watching as strands of sweat connected the pitiful girl to his toes under it broke. Her face panting in lust and coated with HIS sweat. She looked like such a bitch in his eyes. He never thought he wanted that before, but now it was all he wanted. To own her.

A dream come true for Missy.

Will watched as Missy whined, quietly begging for more. Her addiction made her needy. And vulnerable to do his every wish.

“Look at you, little bitch,” he teased, knowing she loved it, “Spit it out. What do you want? What do you crave? Admit your servitude to me, slut.”

Missy’s eyes went wide. This was better than she imagined. He fit the dominant role so well. “I-I-I…”

“Now. Say it. Say you’re mine. Let me claim you.”

“I’m yours! You’re my master, my owner, even! All I want is to serve your feet for the rest of my life! P-please let me lick your soles more, master!”

“Hmmm… You seem to have gotten an overdose on my feet for the day. But I’ll let you have it on one condition… You let me fuck you.”

Missy had been waiting for him to ask, her gaze rested solely on his massive member, as long as her leg and definitely girthier. It was such a tease to see it through the fabric of his underwear. She nodded eagerly.

Will didn’t even wait a second more, his pent-up natural instinct kicking in. He grabbed her in both hands and flipped her over, shoving her against the couch. She was roughly slammed into the cushion, smelling the Wailord’s ass all over it. Will basically tore off his briefs, flinging them to the ground aggressively as he pinned Missy’s arms against her back and held her harshly against the couch with one hand. He growled with lust and brought his massive maw to Missy’s ear and whispered, filling her whole body with a sensual shiver. She moaned right back.

“You ready to get obliterated?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His massive dick prodded at the opening of her pussy, eager to push its way in. He teased the wet hole of his bitch with his tip for a few seconds, loving her gasps and shudders as he rutted against it. He thrust his hips backwards and paused, pinning Missy’s face deeper into the cushion, basically cutting off her airways. He grinned, before he roughly shoved his massive member towards the tight feline pussy, the size difference and sheer force essentially tearing it open. He slowed down for a bit after penetrating with his tip, not wanting to hurt her but wanting her to still know he was in control - and he could do whatever he wanted to her.

He slowly pushed the rest of his dick in, going all the way, balls deep. He relished in her soft gasps and moans, and groaned himself at the feeling of her tight walls clenching around his dick. The wet feeling making him harder as it grabbed tightly around him. He huffed right against her neck, breathing into her back as he started nibbling on her soft neck sensually. Now that he got her pussy used to his member, he cut the soft act.

He thrust out rapidly, getting almost his entire dick out, before shoveling it back in roughly, feeling Missy’s body rut upwards from the bone being shoved right into her back. But he kept her pressed down with his hand, letting her moans get muffled as she breathed in his scent. She was his. He kept thrusting in and out roughly, getting faster and faster and faster, feeling her fragile body crumple in his hand as she succumbed to the pleasure. As she orgasmed, he couldn’t help himself. The pleasure was too good, the pussy was too tight. A couple of faster ruts and he came all inside her.

The massive load filled her insides with warmth as the sticky substance claimed the entire entrance. It was too much for her, a portion of it leaking out through the sides of Will’s dick. He huffed and collapsed onto her, squishing her into the couch. He was exhausted.

After a couple suffocating minutes for the skitty, the Wailord finally got up, strands of sticky semen connecting his now flaccid cock to the defeated feline, who now weakly flipped over, full and exhausted. Will chuckled looking down at her disheveled form. He let her rest. She’d need it, considering he was planning on making her do the exact same thing tomorrow. Her new life had just begun.

Every day, the Wailord would wake up to his loyal slut sucking his cock, giving his morning wood the loving it deserved while he pet her head lovingly. She would suck him to completion, and swallow all of it. That would be her high-protein breakfast. Then, she would run over to the kitchen, not allowed to have a moment’s break, to cook Will an elaborate breakfast, customized to his requests. She would serve him a feast in bed, dotting on him like a housekeeper, or rather, a slave. He would sloppily eat it down, a meal fit for a family all to himself (he was a big boy after all!), and then have the skitty help him get dressed for work. She wasn’t allowed to get dressed herself, however. Will loved seeing her nude body all day all to himself.

Once Will went off to work, Missy had her work cut out for her as a housekeeper, staying loyal to her master, eagerly waiting for him to come home, exhausted and dirty. She would peel off his shoes and socks, and clean his feet for hours while he watched TV and admired his little slut hard at work, all getting him hornier to prepare for Missy’s daily fucking. Once Missy had her dinner of sweat and toe grime, she was in for a ride. Roughly rutted against all night long until the Wailord came into her or on her, almost always passing out on top of her.

Her life may sound rough but it’s exactly what she always dreamed of. Being a live-in fucktoy and foot-slut. When she was a good girl, Will would even let her have a used sock during the day to sniff and huff while he was at work all day long. Although, when he let her sniff his socks while he was gone, she wouldn’t get nearly as much work done, which would call for a stomping as ‘punishment’. He was good to her, kind and gentle most of the time, while still maintaining the dominance they both craved to exist between them. Sometimes, he’d even bring her along to go out during the day, showing her off as his slut and even make her show her obedience by publicly humiliating her. She’d eagerly lap at his feet anywhere, no matter who was watching.

They both lived a happy rest of their lives together, full of fetishy and kinky fun. Missy as the desperate and loyal servant, who subsisted off of toe jam and foot grime, and Will as the dominant man of the house, who got all the sexual pleasure a man could hope for.