yourchastity

[yourchastity]

Did anyone else ever have a brother with ridiculously stinky feet?? I’m talking the kind you smell as he’s coming up the stairs or walking into a room. The kind of stinky feet that makes normal people cringe?

Did he lock you in chastity and rub them in your face constantly too? Demanding tongue baths and long luxurious massages on a daily basis after you finished his homework?

…the more I reflect on it and say it out loud, the more Im starting to feel like it might not be as common amongst brothers as I had originally thought… 🤔

[yourchastity]

Wearing them 24/7 too, u will suffer under me.

You filthy little faggot stay down there in the wheel well and sniff my stinking socks. Massage 'em, with both your hands and your face. Kiss 'em and beg me to not stomp you into a blubbering pile of shit in the dirt. If I've gotta work with a homo I'm sure gonna get some entertainment out of it. And you can expect this every day. We work at all the outlying sites that no one else comes to so there's no one to see your suffering and humiliation so I can really go to town. The stink of my socks are gonna be in your nose 24/7, it'll remind you constantly that a you're a Real Man's bitch. Get sniffing, cock breath.

[yourchastity]

Damn 🔥

[yourchastity]

Owned 🔥

Stupid faggot, when I let you massage my sweaty socked feet the other night it was only because I felt kind of sorry for you, talking about how it was a "need" and how you were going to die not being able to satisfy your "need." I had been drinking, I was barely listening to you and I thought I could get a good foot massage out of it. But I've been thinking about it and it's actually pretty pathetic. Your "need," your "passion" in life, is to massage and worship men's sweaty stinking smelly socked feet? That's really fucked up man. But you know what? I really like a good foot massage. And if you've got such a need for guys sweaty stinking socked feet, then you've got it. But it's on my time. Not your time. So when I come in and tell you to take off my shoes and massage my stinking sweaty dirty socked feet, you do it. No questions asked. I don't care if you've got something else to do or you're meeting someone at a specific time, you stop everything and you take care of my sweaty socked feet. That's your passion. I'm giving you a reason to live pervert. Now get going, massage my fucking sweaty stinking socked feet and kiss them too, thank me for being so nice to you.

[yourchastity]

He fucks me every day, usually more than once. He's so aggressive, he positions me on all fours roughly on his bed, warns me not to move. He stands behind me for a couple of minutes. I think he likes to look at me, get himself hard. I feel his big hands encircle my waist. His hands are so big and I'm so small, with a small waist, that it feels like his fingers could almost meet on my lower abdomen. I don't know why I'm so little, he and my mom are both tall. Well, my mom was tall, or so I remember her.

I wait, motionless, on all fours, every inch of my skin covered in black rubber. He told he'd wanted to turn me into his rubber fuckhound for years. He told me he hated having such a runt as an only son. He told me that when his beloved dog died two years ago he got the idea to replace him with me. The idea came from some images on Tumblr he stumbled onto. He told me he was mesmerized, that he became addicted to these images and to this idea of permanent transformation. He imprisoned me in rubber so he wouldn't have to think of me as a person, as his son. He keeps me collared and leashed, I sleep in a steel cage. Dad takes me out to fuck me. Afterwards he likes to have a whiskey or two in his leather armchair. He smokes a cigar. He makes me curl up on the floor between his leather boots. "Good boy," he says. I can smell the cigar smoke. My leash is curled around his hairy forearm a couple of times. Sometimes I'll feel it tugging, which is the signal to get up on all fours so he can skull-fuck me. His cock is still slimed with lube. He grabs my head with both hands and rams his cock down my throat with no mercy. The more I gag and sputter the harder his cock gets. Finally, usually after fifteen or twenty minutes, his cock suddenly swells even further and explodes. I never taste his cum, since his cock is so far down my throat when he erupts. How many gallons of Dad's cum have I eaten? He tells me not think of him as Dad anymore, he doesn't want to be anyone's father. He tells me to think of him as Master. "Your life is in my hands," he tells me, in a menacing way.

When he's fucking me, gripping my waist in his big paws, and he hits just the right angle and with the right rhythm, I can feel myself getting hard. I know I'm going to cum one of these times. I don't know how he'll react to that. I feel his big hard cock brutally pistoning in and out of my rubber hole, hear his bestial grunts. I'm supposed to be the dog but he's the one who descends into an animalistic state when he's raping me. It's like I'm a dog and he's turning into a wolf. Sometimes when he's fucking me I'll feel the leather choke collar around my neck. He'll yank back on it, snapping my head back, cutting off my air supply, forcing me to arch my back as he yanks back in rhythm to his fucking. A few times I've come within seconds of blacking out. I don't think he'd care if I did, he's just keep fucking me. If he killed me, he'd probably keep fucking me till he came. The rubber does something to him, makes his desire unmanageable.

He tells me all I need to do is to be obedient and to serve his needs when commanded. He doesn't mind when I fall asleep curled up between his leather work boots. I'm his rubber fuckhound, forever. When he comes home from a job site, tired and dirty, he makes me clean and organize his tools then make him dinner. As it's cooking, he peels off his white t-shirt and makes me lick him clean.

I have no one to tell this to, but I've accepted my new life. Dad says I make a better fuckhound than boy, and I've come to realize he may be onto something. The leather does something to him, but it might also be doing something to me.

[yourchastity]

[yourchastity]

[yourchastity]

Owned.

Making a bet with his friend Josh, with the loser being the winners foot slave for a week, was going perfectly. He knew Josh’s competitiveness couldn’t resist it and also knew the varsity jock would take advantage of the situation. When he won, Josh gloating over his victory. When he was in his presence, Mark would have to sit on the floor, so Josh could rest his feet upon him. Even when their other friends were over playing video games, Mark would be his footrest with Josh teasing him from behind. He would eventually order him to lay down and Mark would watch both huge and smelly soles cover his face. The dry, yet potent scent would fill his nose as he breathed in his friends dominant foot scent. He would muffle out under the soft padded soles smothering him,”Fucking stink,” and push his face against them. Josh would just rub them over his nose and tell him to shut up and keep smelling. Mark would hear his other friends laughing at him as they took turns gaming. Josh would order him to get them Cokes then Mark would resume his place under foot. Sometimes feeling the weight of his other friends casually stepping on him as they passed by going back to the couch. Toward the middle of the week, now no longer resisting but accepting his place as servant, Mark took a risk, and licked the bottom of one of Josh’s bare feet. Without hesitation, Josh said,”Yah, lick slave.” Mark began licking each of his friends soles and between each of his toes when the bare digits would flex over his mouth. As the week ended, Mark felt one of Josh’s bare feet press on his hardon, and start jerking it some teasingly. Mark breathed in deeply, not attempting to move it away, as the other pair of toes squeezed his nose. “Yah, I know you’ve got a foot fetish for my feet,” Josh said peering down at his friend. Toes flexed on his nose as Josh continued,”I know you love smelling and licking them. You can keep being my foot slave, I kinda like it. Might get the other guys to join in as well. You wanna be our little foot bitch Marky?” Mark nodded yes. He couldn’t believe his luck as Josh kept nonchalantly teasing his dick with his foot till he couldn’t hold it any longer. 

[yourchastity]

When your friend looks at you, then looks down at the opposite end of the couch, you silently know where you will be spending the time while he's watching his show. Just an unspoken arrangement of him being the foot dominator, in which he loves the control of his feet toward you, and you being the recipient of the stinky feet. You're always happy to get your face consumed by his big feet whenever you all are hanging out.

[yourchastity]

[yourchastity]

You received a text message with this picture. It was the straight guy you blow on demand. He wrote "get over here fag I need your face as my footstool while I'm gaming tonight. I just dug these soccer socks out of the laundry, they sure don't smell clean after wearing them to the gym for three days, but that'll be good for you. I might or might not let you blow me tonight but your compliance with my orders depends on whether or not I ever let you blow me again, so I'd get over here if I were you. My dirty soccer socked feet are waiting for the comfort of your footstool face." You grabbed your wallet and your keys and ran out of the house.

[yourchastity]

Picture source: anonymous

Anonymous requested story

Pete had to leave his brother's place because he was going into the military. That left Pete with no place to stay. He knew of a friend of his who had a two-bedroom apartment and was looking for a roommate for the second bedroom. His friend was straight, but being gay didn't bother him though. So he texted him. Van agreed to let him move in at his place.

Later that day, Pete went over to his friend Van's place to see if the room was still available. Van let him in.

"What's up, how have you been?" Van asked.

"Good, hey, is your second room still available?" Pete was hoping it still was.

"Sorry, but I gave that room to another friend of mine. A college buddy who was on the football team with me now lives in that room." Van told him.

Pete was disappointed that the room was no longer available. "I was hoping I could live here. My brother leaves for the army in three days, and I need a new place to stay." He explained.

Van felt bad for him but knew of a place with plenty of room. "Well, I can offer you another place to stay with plenty of space, but it might be a little strange."

Pete didn't mind a little strange as long as he had a place to sleep. "I don't mind that. I will take it." He spoke up without knowing where it was.

Van smiled, "Okay. If you don't mind, then I won't either."

Pete was now getting curious as to what Van meant about his last statement. He saw him pull out his phone and point the camera at him. There was a flash for an instant. He then found himself unable to move or speak. He felt hollowed out and empty on the inside. He felt something large lifting him up.

Van examined the socks he picked up off the floor. They felt so soft in his hands. "Like I said, since you don't mind my sock drawer, I won't mind wearing you on my feet. You get a comfy place to stay either way. I am glad you won't mind being on my feet." He went to his room to try on his new pair of white grey tipped socks.

"No, I thought you meant an actual room, not on your feet or sock drawer!" Pete mentally screamed. This was not something he ever would have wanted. He was powerless as Van's feet slipped inside him. He could taste and smell both of his feet. He tried to move to show his discomfort but that was impossible. He couldn't even voice this protest since socks can't speak. He didn't want to be socks at all. He just only needed a place to stay till he got his own apartment.

Van walked around in his new socks. They also felt good on his feet. "I am glad I could help you have a place to stay." He wiggled his toes in his new socks and smiled down at them. "You will be my favorite pair of socks. I will make sure you get plenty of time with my feet since you didn't mind." He added.

Pete was distraught. "NO, change me back now. I don't want this. I don't like feet in this way. Van, I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR SOCKS!" He mentally screamed, but was getting no results. Each step felt like horrible pain renewed each time. Almost never ending pain with each step. With no way to let Van know that he wasn't happy, he might be stuck this way forever.

THREE WEEKS LATER......

Van was relaxing on his bed with his favorite socks. Both socks had big holes in the heel. He hoped that Pete was still just as happy as he was for having him as his socks. He could have thrown them away, but he promised to give him a place to stay. Continuing to wear him till he is completely destroyed will be giving him a place to live, either on his feet or in his sock drawer. Too bad there was no way to find out how happy his socks were.

Pete's mind was completely gone. All he knew was just Van's feet. His will had been broken after the fourth day of being on his friend's feet. In a way, his friend completely stomped out his will without even knowing it. He was just a mindless pair of socks enslaved to the feet who wore him and the owner who took pleasure in stepping on him. He was nothing but socks now.

[yourchastity]

It's been a month since you started dating your boyfriend so he took you to meet his father. It was a Saturday morning, he drove to his father's house where he was expecting you.

You knew that his father is somewhat homophobic but he was fine knowing his son is a top. You arrived there and knocked on the door. He opened the door and welcomed you in.

You all started to chat as your boyfriend got a call from his job that they needed him urgently. His father suggested he go and leave you here and then come pick you later. He left and you sat there on the couch opposite to his father.

"Don't be shy, my son told me so much about you but I must ask, do you serve him well?"

"What do you mean sir?"

"Don't play stupid games with me pervert. Do you serve your man as you should? You know why I left his mother right? People like you and her aren't equal to me and my son. We are real men and you are servants."

He looked you in the eyes waiting for an answer. You couldn't say anything... you didn't have anything to say. You lowered your gaze and remind silent.

"When a man asks you a question you answer boy."

"Sorry sir. No I haven't really... not yet sir."

"My son needs some guidance. He got mad when I insisted to know who gets fucked... the bottom as you perverts call it. Any way I see you already know your place. Calling me sir and looking at my feet so some training for you and a chat with my son should do."

"What will you tell him sir."

"Don't worry about that boy. Come over here take care of sir's feet. I need them rubbed and worshipped. Been a while since someone took care of them."

Before he finished his sentence you were at his feet. You started rubbing them and you could feel the tension in his muscles. His skin was thick and rough and his feet smelled so good.

After an hour of massaging he told you to start licking his soles and sucking his toes. You were so horny and excited to finally get a taste. His feet were a almost the same size and shape as your boyfriend's although your boyfriend still had smoother soles.

You went in hard burying your face in his big feet making sure not to miss a spot. He occasionally gave you some kicks and used your head as foot rest. You were so relieved to letting that side of you out. For your boyfriend's father to be a real man that knows your place and make it easy for you to worship his son.

"It's launch time boy. Go make me a meal for me and your man he should be here in a hour."

"Yes sir."

You went to the kitchen and started cooking them a meal. You wanted to impress his father, you wanted his acceptance. You couldn't wait for him to tell your boyfriend how pathetic you are and how you want worship him.

[yourchastity]

"Just shut up and rub my feet already. I don't want to listen to you whine and cry about why you were taking photos of my feet. Mouth shut, hands at my feet."

He had just caught me taking photos of his sexy soles leading to him finding the whole album of a year worth of photos. He made me delete them as I will be having a 'closer relationship' with his feet.

"Yeah see? You are finally useful for something pervert. Yeah get deeper into my soles... been a long day. Bet you are hard now perv."

The sight of his feet alone would make cum my pants, touching them was more of a dream. I rubbed his feet as hard as I could... I needed him to pleased.

"That's enough perv. Since you were a good boy I'll bless you with my toes. I wnat you to sniff in between all my toes then give every toe a quick kiss."

Could barley believe what I was hearing. Didn't miss a second before I stuffed my noes between his toes taking big, long whiffs. Then I started planting kisses on his toes. They were so ripe and soft, with some dry sweat.

"Good boy. You can fuck off for now perv. Don't want to see you until tomorrow when I'm back. Same time same service. Now out of my room."

[yourchastity]

"Want to waste our precious time so you can goon to us silly fucker? You better sniff all that stink well you stupid gooner."

I've always been so obsessed with firefighters. They always turn me on, and I'm addicted to gooning over firefighter themed porn. I caved in and called for an emergency today as a 'prank'. One of the team members didn't let it go and insisted I should be punished.

There, he was standing over me after beating me up, forcing me to confess everything. His sweaty socks were inches above my face.

"You appreciate firefighters, don't you? Show me fucker. Kiss my foot. Kiss my filthy sweaty sock."

He didn't have to ask again. My face was buried in his socked foot, kissing and sniffing it.

"Sick fucker. That's what you fantasize about all the time? That's what you wasted our time for. I should turn you into the teams foot mat. What do you think, gooner boy? You don't have to answer. I know you'd love to."

He removed his sock and stomped my face. His feet were sweaty with sock lint between his toes.

"Chop chop fucker I have some real men work to do clean my foot already."

My tongue was already between his toes, getting all that good stuff before I suck on his toes.

"That's right, gooner. You better be able to serve my whole unit this way. Now fuck off I have to go."

(Story suggestion by: @vilmarfinneas)

[yourchastity]

The ripest socks i have at the moment. Over 2 weeks of wear in my sweaty wellies for work.. 🧦👃

The colour and smell is something else. 😈

Are you brave enough to place your face there?👊

[yourchastity]

Stupid faggot, when I let you massage my sweaty socked feet the other night it was only because I felt kind of sorry for you, talking about how it was a "need" and how you were going to die not being able to satisfy your "need." I had been drinking, I was barely listening to you and I thought I could get a good foot massage out of it. But I've been thinking about it and it's actually pretty pathetic. Your "need," your "passion" in life, is to massage and worship men's sweaty stinking smelly socked feet? That's really fucked up man. But you know what? I really like a good foot massage. And if you've got such a need for guys sweaty stinking socked feet, then you've got it. But it's on my time. Not your time. So when I come in and tell you to take off my shoes and massage my stinking sweaty dirty socked feet, you do it. No questions asked. I don't care if you've got something else to do or you're meeting someone at a specific time, you stop everything and you take care of my sweaty socked feet. That's your passion. I'm giving you a reason to live pervert. Now get going, massage my fucking sweaty stinking socked feet and kiss them too, thank me for being so nice to you.