Footman
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
Bryson stretched his leg out towards me as I approached him, pressing his long athletic foot out straight in my direction, toes tense with anticipation. His lightly tanned skin shone like molded bronze as the firelight played over his features.
I stepped nearer to him cautiously, like a puppy testing out a new toy, but my brief reverie was cut short by a quick, giggly command from Tyler that shot out from the dark behind me.
“Kneel already. And Crawl”
Naked, in front of all these clothed boys, with my cock in a cage that prevented it from fully hardening and prevented me from jerking off unless those same boys let me, I figured I had very little dignity left to lose so I obeyed Tyler’s command and dropped to my knees and began to crawl.
It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation. I’d been on my knees for these boys dozens, maybe even hundreds of times, but now there was something more authoritative to it. I wasn’t on my knees just because I wanted to, now I was on my knees because they’d told me to be. There was also the feeling of the rough grit under my hands and knees and the sense of exposure from doing all of this outdoors, something we’d never ventured into back in high school.
As I got closer to Bryson’s foot he started to wiggle his toes at me in what he must have believed was a gesture of invitation. Feet definitely weren’t my thing, and waggling his, long, slender digits in my face, though I appreciated the effort, wasn’t doing anything to make them more inviting. Nonetheless, I crawled closer, my face getting ever nearer to my target, a thin bead of sweat rolling down my forehead despite the relatively comfortable weather.
I made one final motion in Bryson’s direction and as soon as he saw that I was within striking distance, he planted both of his feet directly on my face, soles covering my eyes like a makeshift blindfold. I could hear the other boys laugh and the squeal of delight that Bryson emitted as soon as his feet made contact with my face.
“Yes, Bro!” Aiden cheered.
“Lick. Those. Feet.” Tyler chanted in echo.
Bryson didn’t waste any time, angling his right foot towards my mouth, toes first, he pried my mouth open bit by bit like he was jacking up a car to replace a tire, then slid as much of his foot into my mouth as he could. Blunt, messy, definitely no grace in the movement, but it got exactly the reaction he probably desired from the boys — whoops and snickers and even one “Damnnnn” from I don’t know who.
The taste of Bryson’s foot was unexpected. It tasted nothing like cock. It was a lot saltier, and the skin was a lot rougher and less forgiving. When a cock was in your mouth, there was always at least a little space left in the margins, some softness there that yielded to the confines of your limited space. Not so with a foot! It completely took over the space, forcing its way in, hard, unyielding, exploring my mouth like a jackhammer exploring concrete.
Between the forceful invasion of my skull, and the raw taste of Bryson’s foot, I’d barely had time to absorb the smell. It wasn’t like some legendary college foot stank, but there was definitely a pungent, bawdy scent to Bryson’s foot that both repelled me and drew me in. My cock, which up until now had sat silent in its cage, began to stir to life, betraying me in this moment of utter humiliation.
I tried not to focus on the growing feeling of lust surging in the cage, knowing that thinking about it would only make the hardon inevitable. I succeeded momentarily, sucking on Bryson’s toes happily to the praise of my audience, but Bryson got a rise out of me, and my cock, when he used his other foot to deliver a few light slaps to the side of my face. Although he seemed to be delivering punishment, he accompanied the light blows with the words, “Good boy,” and that was all it took. The two together had me rising like a rocket. I was on my way to another Tommy Tentpole.
From this? What was wrong with me?
I spent the next few minutes tasting every part of Bryson’s feet, the toes, the soles, the top, the bottom. He had me suck on each individual toe, one by one, lick the crevices between them, then go back in the reverse direction I’d just gone. All the while, the other dudes made comments of encouragement, not for me, but for Bryson or speculated about how good it’d feel when they got their turn to have a go at my mouth.
Indeed, it wasn’t long before the next guy, Aiden, demanded that he have his spin at foot service and Bryson sent me over Aiden’s way with a nudge of his foot to my side. My cock had risen to full mast by this point and as I turned sideways to crawl to my next meal, my arousal was finally exposed to the boys in the firelight.
Grant was the first to notice, and he didn’t let me off the hook for it.
“Looks like someone enjoyed licking your feet, Bryson,” he said.
Oh God, he noticed. Of course, he noticed.
Bryson’s interest piqued, “Is that so?” he responded. “We prolly shoulda had you doing more interesting stuff for us a long time ago then, huh?” he asked.
“Definitely looks that way.” Grant noted.
I tried to ignore their barbs as I descended on Aiden’s feet, less tanned than Bryson’s but just as big and intimidating. Aiden didn’t waste any time either. He grabbed me by the hair, bent his right leg at the knee and pulled my face into the sole of his foot. It was much sweatier than Bryson’s had been, and the scent was more intense as well. As I started to lick, without being told to, I took note of the flavour differences between his foot and Bryson’s as well. Where Bryson’s foot had been more salty and earthy, Aiden’s was more salty-sour, definitely more intense.
Was this what I had been reduced to now? Comparing the smell and taste of my friends’ feet?
Aiden was a lot more ‘encouraging’ about having his feet worshipped, participating in the process with his hands, directing the process like a boxing coach at the side of the ring:
“More tongue,” he’d say.
Or:
“That’s it, now lick up and down the soles, back and forth,” using his grip on the back of my scalp to show me exactly how he wanted it done.
Before long, and sooner than my cock wanted it to be, the service of Aiden’s feet was over, and I was ushered along to Connor’s left foot which he’d generously outstretched in my direction, ready for attention. Connor’s feet were slightly smaller than the two of the other men I’d serviced so far and they were dusted with a coating of light blonde hair in contrast to the other two who’d been entirely hairless, but Connor’s feet were by far the most masculine and muscular I’d seen so far. They radiated the same, “I’m the boss” energy that he had earlier that night at the dinner table, and despite myself, I was already hungry for a taste.
I didn’t like feet though. Feet grossed me out. Didn’t they? What. The. Fuck?
Connor was the gentlest of the boys so far. He let me worship his feet languidly, laying back, arms behind his head, doing nothing but smirk confidently as I smothered his feet with devotion and my spit. If it was possible, my cock seemed to get even harder from the way Connor sat back and enjoyed my service so calmly, almost without any acknowledgement except to move me from one foot to the other.
As I stared up at him, his brown eyes gave nothing away except that he was enjoying every moment of my reverence and much as I tried, I couldn’t keep his stare, his powerful gaze was just too much for me in that moment. Instead, I turned back to his beautiful feet and continued to tend to them adoringly with my mouth, hoping I might earn even a sliver of approval from this gorgeous, blonde man.
Had I just thought of his feet as.. beautiful? What was happening to me?
Grant was the next footman on my list and, as always, he was an eager beaver, clawing for my face with his feet as I crawled towards his rattan bucket chair. By now, the last of the sunlight had long since died out and all that remained was the light of the fire. In that light, Grant’s face looked particularly devilish — and handsome — his reddish-brown hair, thin lips and high cheekbones animated by the flickering fire light and his giddy smile.
Grant’s feet were the cleanest of the bunch so far. They definitely weren’t clean, there was the usual taste of salt and sweat and everything else, but there was also a sort of sweetness to them that I couldn’t quite explain. It also seemed like Grant took better care of his feet than the other boys did. Cream or pedicures or something, I didn’t know, but his feet were smooth and soft against my face and tongue.
My cock reached another level of hardness in its cage.
Those soft feet. So nice… Wait.. Who even are you, Tommy?
Tyler was the last to have a go at my mouth and he made sure to make a spectacle of it like always.
Standing up instead of sitting like all the rest of the boys, he had me kneel in an awkward position that took me a few commands to figure out. I eventually figured out what he wanted when he said, “Face down, ass up, like a porn video!”
At that point, I realized he wanted me with my head on the ground and my ass high up in the air. The erotic rush of servicing Grant’s feet began to subside and the humiliation from earlier in the night began to rise again as Tyler bent down to tilt my head sideways so my right cheek was pressed to the hard, concrete tiles of the patio.
Then, making sure everyone else was watching, Tyler used his left foot to hold my head down by placing it — not too gently — on the side of my cheek, and then offered the sole of his right foot to me to start licking.
In this position, I couldn’t really lick Tyler’s foot as effectively as I’d been able to with the other guys but even I knew this wasn’t about how well I got the job done. This was about putting on a show for the other dudes. Tyler wanted to demonstrate what he could do with me, show how much power he had over me and as I got going, even though I didn’t want it to be the case, my cock started to get hard again, like rock hard.
And Grant noticed.
Of course, Grant noticed.
“He’s loving that shit, Tyler!” he said.
“Of course he is,” Tyler responded. “He was probably hoping we’d do this stuff for years. Tommy is gonna have the best vacation of all of us, for sure, dudes!”
As he uttered the last words, he shifted feet, using his right now to pin my face down and giving me his left for licking. The other guys meanwhile offered only agreement to Tyler’s statement, which I wasn’t too sure about, but then again, I couldn’t deny that this shit was turning me on like crazy.
After a few more minutes of licking Tyler’s left foot, I felt the pressure on my face ease. I looked up to see Tyler standing there, looking down at me, a cocky smile fixed on his face. He stared at me like someone might stare at a mess they just made and were nonetheless really proud of, and maybe that’s exactly how I looked at the moment. I noticed something else then though, Tyler was groping himself gently through his pants and he was hard, or at least semi hard.
I couldn’t help but feel proud that I’d made that happen. That I’d done well with my ‘foot job’.
Tyler looked around the light of the fire pit, still feeling himself through the shorts, and spoke a few more words that would have me not just throbbing but leaking into my cage.
“So all that foot stuff has me hard, boys. Who else is in the mood for a blow job?”
As I righted myself and elevated myself to my knees, I didn’t need the boys to respond to know their answer.
Their eyes said it all.
Hungry.
Predatory.
All fixed on me.
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