I love my job so was excited about being invited to speak at the first day of a two day company conference. The downside was it included my worst nightmare, a work social black tie dinner with hotel stay. While I’m confident in my work and respected for what I do, socially I’m everything but confident. My plan was to dodge the low key Friday night drinks and grin and bear the main Saturday night gala event by seeking out some kindred loners.
My presentation was a success and my boss James congratulated me and said he’d like to introduce me to the sister company’s Managing Director, as he’d been impressed with my presentation too.
“Tom, I want you to meet Keith”. We approached a tall, smartly dressed, dark curly haired guy who was chatting with a small group of staff. As he turned I was shocked to see that I knew him. Keith was my friend’s brother from years ago. He extended his hand, “Good to meet you Tom” - he gripped my hand too firmly for what seemed a lifetime, no hint on his face that he knew me. I was speechless and surprised as he didn’t seem to recognise me, only managing to mumble some acknowledgment. “I am really interested in hearing more about your work Tom, can we catch up later”. And with that he was gone, chatting with another group of staff. “Watch him” said James, “he’ll try and poach you”.
Maybe he didn’t recognise me? But surely he did, I was always at his house when I was younger, his younger brother was my best friend at school. Confused and also nervous, I went to grab a coffee from the bar. As I waited I felt someone approach and stand just behind me - I knew it was Keith, I had noticed from earlier that he still wore the same aftershave and I’d immediately recognised it! Plucking up the courage to turn and look, when I did he was facing the bar waiting to get served. Turning to me he smiled, “well Tom, or should I say Nancy boi? Still stealing dirty socks from laundry baskets are we?” The pause felt like a lifetime finally broken by, “mine’s a bottle of beer”.
Panic and excitement flooded my body, that was nearly 10 years ago when I was 18 and had a huge crush on my best friend’s brother who was now standing next to me, the MD of the sister company I work for. He clearly remembered everything.
Sweating now and stuttering I immediately found myself ordering his beer. He took it and walked off, “catch you later Nancy boi”. I headed quickly up to my hotel room.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a kink thing for socks. I don’t know how or why. By the time I hit my teenage years I was certain about two things, I liked men and I liked men in socks. I especially had and still do have, a thing for dark coloured, long nylon socks. Keith was the first guy who I not only fancied but also worn the best nylon socks. Black, dark blue and sometimes dark brown nylon socks, usually plain but occasionally a pair with a simple pattern single line up the side. They weren’t those sheer nylons, but they were thin and looked amazing. I secretly longed to touch them, I was desperate to know how they felt and how they smelt on his feet. I would go over to see my mate praying for the briefest glimpse of a socked ankle or even better, Keith without his trainers on.
Back then Keith was that typical older brother, pranking and piss taking. He made his brother’s life a misery with his bullying which extended to his brother’s mates too. He was quick to hone in on something and exploited it, and for me, even though I’d not come out to him, he would call me ‘Nancy boi’. I’d turn up and he’d call out to his brother, “your Nancy boi friend is here” or “oi Nancy boi, you coming round to play today?”. There was an 8 year age gap between Keith and his younger brother and often he was left in charge when we were too young to be left alone. We endured what he enjoyed, being bullied and taunted, frequent orders to get us to fetch things for him, always with a humiliating tone. One of his favourite things, was to headlock me and ruff my hair, taunting me to free myself, “come on Nancy boi, get out of this”. Getting out of it was impossible, he was physically strong and he’d walk me around the room ruffling my hair, his arm firmly locked around my neck. He also fancied himself as a boxer and was always sparring with us, throwing fake punches toward our faces and body. He was worse when he had an audience, especially when his girlfriend was there. I don’t recall exactly when I realised that it turned me on!!!
Back in my hotel room I laid on my bed, head spinning at what had happened. Annoyed that I’d obeyed his orders to buy his beer and not stood up for myself, excited and fearful all in one! I was transported back to that day nearly 10 years ago. A day that saw fantasy develop into reality.
I’d been hanging out with my mate and avoiding Keith as was usual. It was always a weird feeling because I also had this huge crush on him - I was both attracted and scared of him. As I went to the bathroom, he was coming out. Walking past I endured the usual dead arm punch and snigger, “don’t cry Nancy boi?”. I got into the bathroom and locked the door, used the toilet and as I turned to leave clocked the laundry basket still open. Looking inside, I saw them, a pair of dirty socks - Keith’s black, sweaty nylon socks, still rolled down as he’d slipped them off his feet, warm, damp, rank. My cock twitched in my pants as I picked the socks up and instinctively moved them toward my face, hesitating as the smell hit my nose. Staring at them, feeling the warm, damp nylon in my hand I almost screamed when someone banged on the door, “hurry up”. It was Keith’s girlfriend! I threw the socks back into the laundry basket, unlocked the door and pushed past her back to my friend’s room. As I got to his door, I sniffed my sticky, sweaty smelling hand. My cock twitched hard, I was leaking pre cum, it felt amazing! I spent the rest of the evening lost in thought, “why did I throw them back, how can I get them?” At the end of the evening, I said goodbye to my mate and as I left ducked into the bathroom, locked the door and opened the laundry basket, grabbed my prize, stuffed them down the front of my pants and left. Keith was in the hall, “what’s up Nancy boi, needed another wee wee”. I blushed, mumbled something half expecting a thump or a headlock, but instead he just sniggered and walked off. I couldn’t wait to get home, as I walked I could feel the socks rubbing against my excited cock. Once home I went straight to my room, jumped onto the bed, reached into my pants and pulled out the socks. They were longer than I realised once straightened out, easily over the calf. I took off my sports socks and put them on. I rubbed my feet together to feel the friction of the damp nylon on my feet. I slipped them off and started to sniff them. I remember actually retching at their smell. I haven’t got that big a cock yet somehow it seemed to grow to new heights as I lay there with Keith’s socks draped across my face! I left them there inhaling, they were cooler now but still damp. I opened my mouth and started to draw them in with my teeth, the sweaty damp nylon rubbing over my lips and onto my tongue. The taste was foul, nothing like I’d ever experienced, I gagged and spat them out. Breathing heavily I lay there, the rank taste still on my lips. I tried again and again, eventually holding them in. That sticky feeling I had on my hands earlier was now on my tongue, Keith’s rank smelling nylon socks were literally sticking to my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I imagined Keith was watching, taunting me and ordering me to suck them clean.
Those black nylon socks were the first of many pairs that I took. Each pair seemed more exciting, I started to be able to tell if they had been worn for more than a few days and whether in trainers or shoes. I liked trainer worn best as they really stank the rankest and tasted really bad and were a challenge to smell and suck.
Still laying on my hotel bed, I reached down to my foot, slipped off a sock, pulled it over my cock and blew my load within seconds. I fell asleep quickly, almost able to recall the sock stench from all those years ago.
My phone buzzed and woke me, it was just past 1am, I reached over to look, “caller withheld”. I clicked it off, it rang again and a third time. I answered, immediately the caller spoke, “room 308 Nancy boi - now” and rung off. I shot up in bed, was I dreaming? How the hell did Keith get my number? I didn’t know what to do, I panicked, got dressed. Stood and looked at myself in the mirror, tidying my hair, noting the fear and excitement on my face. And then suddenly I found myself standing there, looking at the numbers on the hotel door - 308. I don’t recall getting there! I knocked, nothing. I waited for what felt like hours and knocked again. Nothing. I didn’t know what to do, knock a third time, wait, leave? My heart was racing, realisation hitting that, years later I’m still scared and in awe of Keith. And I’m still jumping when he barks!
I decided to leave, heading back to my room my stomach sank. And then as I got to the stairs my phone ran again, “caller withheld”. I cleared my throat and answered, “hi”. Silence. And then, “Where the fuck are you Nancy boi?” I started to try to explain. “You’ve got 1 minute”, he hung up. I raced back to his door like some stupid, obedient child and knocked. The door opened immediately and Keith stood there, still dressed. I walked in, Keith closed the door and stood against it. We said nothing, eventually I broke the silence. “Look, I don’t know what this is about Keith but I……”. Keith started to laugh, that sarcastic demeaning laugh I remember so well, “fucking hell Nancy boi, you’ve finally grown a pair”. He lurched forward, thrusting his hand toward my crotch as if to check my bollocks. I jumped back. “Mate, I’m just fucking with you!” He continued laughing, “let’s have a drink”. He gestured me into the room. “It’s late Keith, maybe another time”. I tried to move past him toward the door. “No Nancy boi, let’s have a drink now”. I backed off into the room. Was I scared or excited, I couldn’t tell. Trying to feel brave I asked “what do you want Keith?”. Keith was leaning against the wall, his arm blocking my exit, he moved in toward me, I honestly thought (and hoped) he was going to try and kiss me. In my face he said calmly, “I want you to show me again what you did with my stolen socks you fucking freak!!!”
In total, I took at least 5 pairs of dirty socks from Keith’s laundry basket back then. I took only the dark nylon ones, although I did sniff his white sports socks a few times they didn’t turn me on the way the nylon ones did. They held his feet stench better and I loved the way they felt on my face and in my mouth. My favourite pair was always the first, those long black otc nylon socks with the simple line design going all the way from the big toe to the top. By the time I’d taken my second pair, the black ones had dried out completely, creating another new experience - crispy dry, rank tasting nylon socks. These eventually became my preferred wanking socks, somehow jerking off into them made me feel closer to and controlled more by Keith. As the summer ended both me and Keith’s brother got our uni’s confirmed, although at different places. He left first, a week before I was to set off to mine. I was going further north than he did, but we were going to be close enough to maybe see each other once in a while. Less than a day after he left I got a call asking if, as I drive by in a week could I drop off some forgotten items. I didn’t need to think twice and agreed, secretly overjoyed at finally having a reason to go over to his house. I realised that maybe I was more into Keith, despite him being straight and a bully than I thought I was.
I called over on the Friday evening, I chose that as Keith usually had his girlfriend there which meant he’d still be nasty but it would be limited too. I knocked on the door and he opened it. “ah, you missing me Nancy boi?” If only he knew!!! He was standing with a towel around his waist and a smaller one in his hand. “The boxes are still in his bedroom”. He slammed the door shut, and laughing, whipped the towel he was holding at my legs as I headed up the hall. There were a couple of boxes which I carried down to the door one at a time, Keith was in his room with the door slightly open. I could hear music but couldn’t hear any talking or see any sign of his girlfriend. With the last box there, I glanced across at the bathroom door. My cock was hard just seeing the door, I immediately thought this is my last chance to grab a fresh, dirty pair of socks. I walked into the bathroom praying he’d just taken off a pair of something dark and nylon before his shower. He had! I could hardly contain myself, reached in and grabbed them. Stuffing them down my pants and turning I stopped dead. I’d not locked the door and Keith now dressed, was standing there. He’d seen everything. “What the fuck are you doing?”, he was staring at my crotch. I panicked, any protest of innocence was betrayed by my blushing and my stammering voice. “You fucking freak, you’ve been stealing my socks all this time! I fucking knew it was you!” I tried again to say he’d got it wrong but Keith immediately pushed me up against the wall by the throat with one hand, with his other one he dived into my pants and retrieved the sweaty socks he’d seen me stuff down them. I was too scared to even notice how that felt. He held up the socks, their smell immediately filling the air. “Fuck me Nancy boi, you are more of a freak than I ever thought”. Releasing his grip he turned and frog marched me to his bedroom and shoved me in. Door shut I realised we were alone in the house. “Right freak, tell me what the fuck you’ve been doing with my socks”. I started to cry. I couldn’t believe I did, terrified I tried to fight back tears, turning away, wiping my eyes. “Ah, fucking freak is a cry baby too”, he raised his voice louder “what the fuck have you been doing with my socks you’ve stolen”, pausing before saying, “I’m gonna fucking tell everyone”. I begged him not too, I felt stupid, ashamed and ridiculed. “He picked up his phone, swiped and showed me his brother’s picture on the dial screen “this is your last chance freak.” “Okay, okay - I’ll tell you”. I felt numb, dumb and suddenly any thought of being turned on by Keith’s socks was replaced with sheer panic. “I-I-I sniff them”. I wanted to cry again. “I sniff them”, I repeated in lower tone which reinforced my shame. Keith looked at me, smirking. How was I ever going to live this down? He threw the socks on the floor in front of me, “show me you dirty freak”. I was so scared I just bent over to pick the socks up automatically. Keith pushed me to the floor. “Show me how you sniff them, cry baby Nancy boi”. I lifted them to my face, pretending to inhale. “SHOW ME PROPERLY FREAK”. I breathed deeply, they smelt fucking amazing. Despite being terrified, I could feel my cock rock hard. “Is this some fucking freaky queer boi thing?” he asked, “are you getting off on my socks?” I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say yes but was too scared. “So cry baby Nancy boi likes sniffing straight guys socks to get off? Is that it?” I just stared at the floor, socks still in my hand. “IS THAT IT?” Keith repeated shouting. “yes, yes I do”. I wanted to cry again. I wanted to get out. “You fucking sad loser”. Keith sat down on his bed leaning against the wall, legs straight, bare feet pointing toward me. “Give me them”, nodding toward his socks in my hand. I passed them to him and went to get up. “Stay right there freak”. Keith pulled the socks back onto his feet, pulled them high and then ruffled them down slightly to just below his calf muscles. He smirked and nodded toward them. “Come on freak, show me how much you fucking love my straight alpha socks”. My head whirling, I didn’t know how to, what to do. I had this huge empty feeling in my guts - fantasy and reality suddenly seemed so different. Fuelled by fear I leant in and sniffed his socked feet. These dark blue, sweaty, smelly nylon socks were still warm and as intoxicating to me and Keith’s aggressive tone was becoming. I felt completely overwhelmed. I kept my eyes on the floor, pushed my face into them inhaling deeply, each time filling my nostrils and lungs with Keith’s ‘Alpha’ sock stench. “Look at me freak”, I looked up at his face, “lick them”. I let out a breath in excitement, I’d developed a taste for his sweaty nylon socks over the past few months. I licked the right socked foot from the heel across the sole up to the toes. I then started again at the bottom, this time licking up the patterned line towards Keith’s big toe. At the top I licked his big toe. Keith moved his left foot over and pushed it into my face, his unspoken command understood. I licked that one just as well as the right, all in all for over 30 minutes easily. “You fucking freak”, he pushed me away with his foot. “Wipe your filthy fucking saliva off my socks you filthy cunt”. His aggressive tone now exciting me more. I began to wipe them with my hands. “Now fuck off”. I must have looked shocked as Keith kicked me in the face hard “surprised cunt? You fucking thought I might want you to carry on?”. He leant towards me and grabbed my face hard. “Freaky queers aren’t my thing Nancy boi, you fucking repulse me”. I left quickly, grabbed the boxes, got into my car and drove off. Did that just happen? I couldn’t work out how I felt, everything I’d ever wanted to happen just had. But I felt empty, scared at what Keith would do next. In my fantasy head he’d love it and we’d hang out in some weird kink sock heaven. As I drove I couldn’t resist sniffing and licking my fingers. They tasted of Keith’s socks from when I’d wiped them. I never saw Keith again, but the fear of him telling people my dirty secret lived on.
So here I was, 10 years on from the only time I got to worship Keith’s socked feet, about to relive the event with him, in his hotel room and now he’s a company MD.
I stood nervously in front of Keith, he was sitting on the hotel suite sofa, legs up over the arm. “What you waiting for Nancy boi, a fucking invitation!” He snapped his fingers and pointed to his feet. He was still wearing his black leather shoes I’d seen him in that day. I approached and leant towards them to remove his shoes. “No no Nancy boi, you need to be on your knees for this, remember”, gesturing me to get down on the floor. I knelt and again started to remove his shoes. My heart was pounding, in all my wildest fantasies I never thought I’d get a second chance at this with him. I’d waited so long and yet it felt like yesterday that I’d been pushed into his bedroom and humiliated after being found stealing his socks. As I slipped off the first shoe, a wave of panic and excitement overtook me as I stared at his beautiful socked foot. He was wearing black nylon dress socks, much sheerer than before. Somehow more masculine. I moved in, he pulled away. He pointed at his other foot. I hurriedly started to remove the second shoe. “Slow down, slow down”. I obeyed. Once both shoes were off he moved his feet together and nodded, my signal to move my face towards the soles of his feet. I pressed my face into them, feeling the sheer nylon touching my skin I inhaled deeply, just as I did all those years ago. “You’re still a freak then! Don’t move”. Time passed, I don’t know how long. I remained kneeling, face against the sheer nylon soles, smelling his masculine feet. They weren’t anywhere near as rank as I remember, yet the scent turned me on, the warm damp nylon pressing against me. “How much are you loving this freak?”. I nodded gently, “lots Sir”. He rubbed his feet slowly over my face, soft sheer nylon now feeling slightly abrasive. I desperately wanted to taste them, to use my tongue. “Please can I lick them?”. Keith pulled his feet away immediately and just as fast delivered a single blow with his right foot to my face. “You fucking filthy cunt, I don’t want you fucking tongue anywhere near me or my feet”. He just stared at me, “but if you want a chance at that Nancy boi , you seriously need to up your game”. He sat himself up, withdrawing his socked feet further. “Now fuck off you stupid filthy freak”. I returned to my room, horny as hell, spun out at what had just happened.
Next morning I went for an early workout before breakfast. Finding an empty table I ordered coffee. I don’t know how I felt, I was angry with myself for allowing Keith to do what he did, fuck with my head like before. But it was amazing to have his socked toes and feet in my face. Lost in thought, I was startled by a firm hand on my shoulder. “Where did you get to last night?”. It was James, my boss. “Early night James, wanted to be on it for today”. “Well, make sure we see you tonight Tom”. James wandered off. And as he did Keith walked in, making a beeline for me I tried hard to focus and not be intimidated by him. “Morning Tom”, he spoke in a friendly voice loud enough to be heard by others. “How you doing today, mind if I join you?”. He’s a fucking psychopath I thought. “Sure, please do, but I’m er, almost done”. He smiled, “hey don’t go just yet, I wanted to show you something”. He grabbed his phone and scrolled. He flipped his phone toward me, scrolling photos of yesterday’s conference stopping on a picture of me, eyes shut with my face clearly visible, pressed against his socked feet. “I love this picture”. My heart sank, my stomach churned. Keith smiled, stood up to walk away, lent in slightly toward me and in a lower tone said, “suits you Nancy boi, you’re clearly meant to serve real men”.
I spent all morning thinking about his last statement. Was he right? Is all this meant to be? I thought back to when I was younger, I somehow loved being at his beck and call. It’s true that I enjoy doing things for people, it’s in my nature and sometimes I do go way above and beyond. A lot of the time I over promise and bust my gut to deliver. But I always deliver. But was serving men right? I guess so as the thought alone twitched my cock hard. And all I wanted was to be at Keith’s feet, worshipping his masculine, straight alpha socks. He’s right I thought, I am a fucking freak!
Day two of the conference was a challenge. Keeping my mind on the job in hand was impossible, I couldn’t get the photo image out of my head. I reenacted over and over the possibilities of what Keith might do, who he might show and what that could lead to. I wouldn’t put anything past him. And yet saying that, to the best of my knowledge he’d never told a soul about me taking and getting off on his dirty socks. I thought it best to avoid him as much as possible, focus on work and keep busy.
The dreaded black tie dinner event loomed and I was still stressed about the photo Keith had of me sniffing his socked feet. I dressed for the meal and went to the lift to go downstairs. The doors opened, Keith stood there looking fucking amazing in his dinner suit. “Going down?” He smirked. I laughed and got in, for a minute it all seemed perfectly normal. A glimpse of how I secretly hoped it could be. “You’ve kept your distance today Nancy boi, not avoiding me I hope”. “No not at all, I’ve been busy”. “Of course you have. Play your cards right Nancy boi and you’ll be busier than ever later”. He winked, the doors opened and he brushed past me out of the lift. My stomach raced, I was blushing.
I was sat on my bosses table, and thankfully with people I felt okay with. I’m not big drinker and so as the evening moved on and people got steadily more pissed, I sank further and further into the background. Meal over people started partying, I mingled chatting with people as best I could, eventually sitting with a few work mates near the bar. I was feeling more relaxed there and could see the party animals dancing. Keith was up there, centre stage. He looked fucking hot and certainly knew how to use his body to dance. People loved him, he looked at ease with his audience. I couldn’t help admire his body and the confident way he moved. I wondered what socks he might be wearing and how hot and sweaty all that dancing would be making them. My mind racing at what might be in store later. I was desperate to be at his feet again - maybe more! I hoped that was what he meant by me being busy later. And then I’d flip and try to convince myself to say no. It all felt as impossible as when I had my teenage crush on him.
Midnight. I’d had enough and made my excuses. Sloping off I hoped that maybe Keith would notice and follow. Instead I arrived at my room alone, inside I switch on the tv and fell into bed. I kept checking my phone, totally obsessed that he’d call me. When he eventually did, I’d been asleep a while. Blurry eyed I answered my long awaited call “you know where I am Nancy boi.” His confidence and arrogance was like nectar to me, he knew I’d come running like a fucking puppy dog wagging its tail. I wanted to refuse but couldn’t, totally powerless as if under a spell, I headed to his room.
Keith watched me as I followed his instructions, he was laid back on the sofa which was located at the end of his bed, his legs hooked over the arm, feet hanging. I was on my knees as he’d ordered, eyes fixed on his shoes. He loosened his tie. “Clearly you’re still a fucking sock freak then?”. “How many socks have you sniffed and licked since mine that time?” “A few”, I said. The truth was, not that many. Most of the guys I’d hooked up with weren’t into it. “You still fucking repulse me Nancy boi, but I’m prepared to let you show me again what a fucking warped cunt you are”. He kicked off his left shoe revealing what looked like the same black nylon dress sock that he wore yesterday. He brought his toes close to my mouth, I opened it to receive them and he quickly pulled away. He laughed, “How fucking desperate are you?”. “Keep still”, Keith then started to rub his toes under my chin, down my throat and on to my chest. “Unbutton your shirt, take it off”, I obeyed. He rubbed his socked foot over my chest, across each nipple and up to my chin again, over it and stopped with his big toe resting on my bottom lip. It smelt incredible, definitely a few days use, carrying a stench ranker than yesterday, a scent that reeked of Alpha feet. I could see from his face he was fucking loving it, that he still loved the control and power. “Do you suck cock Nancy boi?”. My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe it and blurted out “yes Sir I do”. He laughed, “Sir!!!! I like that Nancy boi“. He had started to circle his big toe across my lips, as if applying a sweaty lip stick before slipping his foot slowly in and out of my mouth. “So suck on my big toe like you’re sucking on a cock cunt”. He started to push his big, socked toe in harder. I opened wider to allow it in, sucking it down as far as I could go. I raised up on my knees higher so that I could go down better, taking his sweaty socked toes into my mouth. “Close your eyes Nancy boi, and deep toe suck slowly”. I obeyed. Keith brought his other foot up and I removed the shoe while still giving head to his socked toes. I felt him rubbing that foot on the side of my face, warm sheer sweaty nylon running across my face. I was ready to blow in my pants. And then he stopped, pushed me off with his foot and looked at me, utter contempt on his face. He looked at me the way you would look at something that totally disgusts, repulses you. With a click of his fingers I immediately was back on his toes, licking and nibbling. Keith started pushing them into my mouth harder, faster. “Deepthroat my toes freak, get my foot in your mouth”. I had no choice but to obey as Keith lent forward, grabbing my hair and pushing the back of my head down on his foot. I started to cough and splatter, Keith clearly didn’t care. He continued to push with his hand and introduced his other foot to the back of my neck, forcing the movement to achieve a deep socked foot penetration. Again, I experienced the raw difference between fantasy and reality. Each foot thrust was hurting the corners of my mouth. Keith’s feet were easily size 10, maybe 11. They were wide as well as long and that combination made taking them into my mouth difficult and painful. That, coupled with his big toe hitting the back of my throat making me gag, made for an experience which pleased him and pained me. But I wanted to serve him. Several times I almost puked as the sheer nylon became soaked in my sloppy saliva, running down my throat as well as my chin. “You’re making a fucking mess freak, up your fucking game or fuck off. There’s plenty of willing cunts like you I could get to take over”. That was all the incentive I required to push through, widen my gape and sunk down allowing Keith’s socked foot, soaked with his sweat and my saliva into my mouth and throat. It felt like my mouth was going to split as he continued to foot fuck my face. He eventually stopped. “Cunts like you don’t deserve this kind of treat, I’m done!” With that, I was putting my shirt on and heading for the door. “Don’t you fucking dare blow your load thinking about this freak, I’m not your fucking wank fantasy!”.
I got back to my room, head spinning out. What the fuck is he doing? What the fuck was I doing? My mouth felt raw. I jerked off, shooting a ton of cum over myself and fell asleep.
It was Sunday morning, everyone was leaving the hotel. I lay in bed thinking about last night. Thinking about how everything Keith did turned me on. The verbal, the face kicking, the brutal foot mouth fucking. His arrogance was toxic and it drove me insane. I realised that all this time, right back to when I used to go around his house to see my mate, that I was driven to be used by him, humiliated and hurt by him. He is right, I’m a really sad fucker who serves men.
Going into the bathroom I looked in the mirror. Fuck!!!! The sides of my mouth were really grazed and bruising was showing. The force and speed of his socked foot fucking my mouth last night was really evident. I couldn’t let anyone see, I won’t know how to explain it. On top of that, my throat was raw and my jaw aching. I felt a fucking wreak. I also felt unbelievably elated. I showered, threw on some sweat pants and tee shirt. I didn’t have to check out until 12, so decided to lay low. I wondered if Keith had gone. I wondered if he was thinking about me. What he felt about last night. What a fucking mad weekend. Two days ago my life was just the usual drag. Slipping my hand down my pants, I started to relive everything. My phone rang, I dived over to get it. Desperately hoping to see ‘caller withheld’. It did, I almost shit myself. I answered “hi Sir”. I think that took Keith by surprise, something in his voice suggested it. “Nancy boi, I’m staying another night, get cleaned up, check out of your room and get your desperate arse up here”. He hung up. I honestly couldn’t take anymore despite wanting Keith’s sweaty socked feet inside my mouth again, repeating everything. I thought how I could decline, I knew I wouldn’t.
I stood outside room 308. I knocked. I expected to wait, I wasn’t disappointed. Eventually Keith opened the door and ushered me in. He took a good look at my face and mouth. I could see from his smiling that he was impressed with his handy work. The bruising on the sides of my mouth was really clear now. Keith was also dressed down, grey sweat pants, white tee shirt, white sports socks. He looked fresh, hot. He sat down put his feet up on the foot stool and sighed. “Have to say Nancy boi, you almost impressed me last night”. “If you weren’t so fucking desperate to please me, I think we could get on, truth is I fucking hate your desperate nature, you’re pathetic”. I felt disappointed. “Shall I go?” I said. “Do what you fucking want freak, you’re nothing to me but a toy to head fuck. But if that’s what you want, I’m able to provide it!” Was that an invitation? I didn’t know what to say, so settled for a yes. “Get on the floor and rub my feet freak”. Like the subservient freak I’d become, I obeyed. Keith’s white sports socks weren’t anything as attractive as his nylon dress socks, yet I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be at his feet, rubbing them, serving him. “What do you want Nancy boi? Think carefully!”. I didn’t need to think at all, I wanted to be able worship his Alpha socked feet, serve him, worship him. Rubbing his feet, I told him this. He picked up his phone and started scrolling, ignoring me completely. I tended to his feet for about an hour, no speaking, no acknowledgement, just there doing what made me feel fulfilled.
Keith stood up. “I’ll think about it freak”. “Get up”. I stood “look at yourself in the mirror”. Keith pointed to the full length mirror on the wall. I stood in front of it. Keith came in behind me, quickly throwing his arm around my neck. I expected to be taken down into a headlock but instead he held tightly making it slightly harder to breathe. In the mirror I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out the black sheer socks from the weekend. I felt my cock harden. From behind Keith lifted me slightly, causing a mild choke as he held the socks over my face. He then took them down to my crotch and shoved them and his hand inside my pants, and whispered, “a little keepsake of the weekend freak”. He left his hand there briefly, feeling around. I wanted to stop him but was unable to. He felt around a little longer, socks and hand rubbing my hard cock. “Is that your cock? Not much going on down there freak is there!”. I felt ridiculed, totally humiliated. I’d never been confident about my cock size and it had often stopped me having regular sex with guys. Two and half to three inches hard if lucky. Keith’s hand was still touching me as he smirked. He pulled tighter on my throat and neck, unbalancing me slightly. As he did he pulled down my joggers and pants just enough to reveal my cock. His socks hanging there from the waistband of my joggers, my tiny hard cock on full show! “Please stop Sir - please”. I hoped Keith would hear my voice quivering and feel some compassion for me. Instead he grabbed the black sheers and stuffed them aggressively into my mouth, keeping his hand there momentarily restricting my ability to breathe. Pulling tighter still on my throat he returned his hand and touched my cock again, flicking it mockingly. “Nancy boi, have you actually got anything going for you?” “You’re a sad cunt who gets off by sniffing and licking Alpha straight guys socks, you allow them to fuck your mouth with their socked feet and you have a tiny, useless cock!” He continued to flick my cock laughing. “Does it actually do anything worthwhile Nancy boi?”. “Have you ever tried to use it to fuck?” He dropped me, I went to the floor trying to pull up my pants and joggers. “This changes everything Nancy boi - EVERYTHING”. For the first time I felt gutted, broken, stupid. I wanted to cry but I knew that would just feed his humiliation rant further. Despite all this, I knew somewhere inside that he was right and also, that how me made me feel made sense to me. “Do you wanna see what a real man’s cock looks like?” “A real fucking Alpha man’s cock”. He was holding his crotch and for the first time, I could see he was hard. Until now, I’d never known whether he is actually turned on by what he does or whether it’s just the power! I stared down at the floor, glancing up at his crotch. The outline of his hard cock was clear to see and it dwarfed mine significantly. I looked Keith in the face, I was desperate to see how much bigger his Alpha cock was than mine. “Up your game freak, and maybe one day you’ll be worthy”. I just stared at him, gently chewing on the rank nylon socks in my mouth. “Get out”. I went to take the socks out of my mouth, “fucking leave them where they are cunt!”. Keith went and grabbed his phone, returned and pushed me against the door by the throat. “Open your mouth”, I obeyed, he took several pictures. “Now walk back to your room with them in your mouth, and I’ll know freak if you don’t”. He swiped his phone, mine started to ring. “Get it”. I got my phone, video call. “Answer and walk back to your room with your phone facing you”.
I couldn’t get back quick enough, two flights of stairs and a long corridor. Back in my room still on video to Keith he was smiling, “good little Nancy boi”. “I know you fucking loved that. Now show me your little Nancy boi cock again”. I paused too long. “SHOW ME” he barked. I dropped my joggers and pants and angled my phone toward my cock, not as quite as hard as it was before. “Get my socks out of your mouth and repeat after me”. I removed them and waited. “I’m a Nancy boi queer with a pathetic little cock, the point of my pathetic life is to serve Alpha men”. I repeated his words. “Again!” I obeyed, again and again. I could just hear Keith laughing. He rang off. I felt sick, stupid. For the first time I hated him and what I was doing. But ……… that would all change eventually!
