The One Pair

Having grown up with One Piece, I was inspired by the absolute power and strength of characters like Ace, Zoro, or Dragon. They made me work hard, harder, the hardest; both my physical and mental strength have flourished because of that.

So, although I have never eaten a Devil fruit, it is safe to say that I am a superior God with the powers to crush someone's world. And well... maybe I do have some overworldly power and used my devilish capabilities *grin*:

I had my old friend from high school coming over. Mark was never outed gay, but he always had some kind of interest in me, always wanted sleepovers, stay at my parents' house for swimming or team up with me in sports class. He also never introduced a girlfriend.

So he came around and I had forgotten to put my socks away which you can see in the picture above. After 1 month of daily training with the same pair of black and white crew socks they sure had a certain odor to them. They lay on the ground a little afar from the couch. We sat on the couch, talked lightly, and after a couple of minutes, he asked me about this overpowering smell in the room - sweet and salty at the same time with a little bit of sourness to it. His first idea was that I might have cooked some food for dinner as I am a versatile cook. I just grinned at him, asked him to stand up, and locate the smell in the room. It took him some time, but he finally centered around my socks, looked at me blushing. I told him to pick them up, but when he bowed down, I was on him within seconds. Mark didn't stand a chance although he is not a twink or something with his 75kg. I forced him to the ground next to my socks, although he really tried to free himself. Mark got all upset, screamed like a girl, and I just put one sock into his mouth, whispering, "we both know you want this so badly." I got duct tape from the table where I left it from my last project to fixate one sock to his nose and shut his fag mouth down as well. I stripped him down completely, although he struggled a lot, and got ropes to tie his hands and feet together behind his back. Ofc he had a boner by then, so I took some good pictures of him with my socks in his face and his body's reaction to it. I left him like that for a solid 60 min while actually cooking dinner. His resistance subsided after a while when he realized there was no escape.

Having finished cooking, I took away both socks from his face and put a plate of food on my dinner table and one on the ground next to him. He wanted to argue, but I cut him off immediately. I slowly peeled off my own socks and planted my size 46 feet next to the plate on the ground. I offered him 2 options:

1. He could eat dinner from the plate on the ground, show that he is not such a fag for me as I actually thought he is, accept my superiority by that and keep our friendship.

2. He could instead choose my feet as his dinner and lick and worship them for as long as I was having dinner, which would show me his craving for me. Before deciding, I informed him that option 2 would mean that he would have to address me as 'Master' in private and 'Sir' in public from now on. It also included his undivided obedience to me and 50 bucks of monthly fag tax - brought to me in person on a day of my choice.

He tried to argue that I attacked him and got physical and all that sissy shit. I just looked him deep in the eyes, made clear that I got some good pictures of him which I would not shy away from sharing on social media or in his work environment, clarified that it was my house and that the police would not do anything when I made it a case of necessary self-defense and most important: I asked him whether he really, sincerely believed in not craving to be my bitch boy when his body's reaction was so opposite to his words.

He started worshipping my Godly feet while I enjoyed my steak.

Afterwards, we had a nice evening, updated us about our lives and talked about his hidden desires which he never really shared because of anxiety and social pressure. Mark even tried to have girlfriends before. I tried to comfort him that being a sub or fag is nothing to be ashamed of. He just had to accept his inferiority to me which I made clear by him being naked and sitting on the ground the entire evening. I told him how many people I met who were more on the beta side and happy to find someone to guide them and make decisions for them. It started to make click for him and his whole attitude towards me changed unconsciously. He didn't talk back, he addressed me properly as 'Master Aleks' and asked whether he could fetch me drinks. My new fag also wanted to know about our journey ahead, but I felt it was enough for one day, started a movie and when the night came, I put him into one of the steel cages in my basement - tied up and stuffed again with The One Pair of socks which convicted him earlier. I didn't want him to pleasure himself that night. First, he was a little surprised but eventually didn't fight back. Also, I creamed his face with my alpha juice just because I felt like doing so and went to bed.

Ready for part 2? How much do you crave to take Mark's place?