Date: Sun, 10 Jun 2007 19:36:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Toby Tyler <tobyt_yler@yahoo.com>
Subject: Seventh Grade Foot Slave Chapter 4

Seventh Grade Foot Slave

By Toby Tyler
tobyt_yler@yahoo.com

This is my first story. If you like it, have any comments or suggestions,
you can email me at tobyt_yler@yahoo.com. If you have no interest in
reading about boys with foot fetishes, or if it is not legal for you to
read such material, leave now.

Chapter 4

Brad and I never really talked about what went on between us. Most of the
time we spent hanging out in the gravel pits or the woods near the
trailer park, shooting his BB gun at tin cans and fooling around. Brad
even helped me to make friends with Danny and Tony, the tenth-graders who
used to frighten me at the bus stop. I was still a bit timid around them,
but at least I knew them better now. They had built their own clubhouse
near the gravel pit, and sometimes Brad and I would hang out with them.
At the clubhouse they got stoned, drank beer and listened to heavy metal
music on a little boombox. Brad would get stoned and drink with them but
I was always afraid to.

Brad still huffed a lot of glue. He had also moved on to spray paint ^Ö
he'd spray the paint into a paper bag and huff it the same way as the
glue. I knew that when he was huffing he would be too zonked to do
anything, so I would always take that opportunity to start licking his
feet until he came out of it. If I begged him when he was sober he would
sometimes make a fuss, but when he was huffing he didn't care and let me
do whatever I wanted. I was never bored when I was around Brad.

Brad was really sweet to me on my birthday. We were both late for class,
and the halls were empty. "Hey Toby, let's make a quick stop at my
locker. I got you a birthday present." He began rummaging around in his
backpack.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that."

We got to Brad's locker and he gave me my present.

"Here ya go. Happy birthday." It was a soft package, wrapped up poorly
with recycled Christmas wrapping. I began to open it up. Brad stopped me.
"Don't open it here. Wait till you're alone. I think you'll really
like it."

I was overwhelmed with happiness. I think at that moment I fell in love
with Brad. Without thinking, I put my arms around him and gave him a kiss
on the cheek. Instinctively, Brad pushed me away and socked me on the
shoulder.

"Not here, stupid! Somebody might see!"

"I-I-I'm sorry!" I stuttered. "I was just -- so happy --" I looked
around. The hallway was empty. Nobody had seen us. I was all choked up.
Brad could see I was going to cry. I just stood there, feeling like an
idiot.

Suddenly Brad's voice turned gentle. "I'm sorry, Toby! I didn't
really mean it!" He gently wiped a tear from my cheek. Then something
happened that I was not expecting.

Without warning, Brad grabbed me and shoved me against the lockers,
violently. What was he doing, I wondered, somewhat frightened. He held my
chin in his hand, and pulled my face towards his, his lips towards mine.
I could feel his hot breath on my face. It took me a moment to realize
that Brad's tongue had forced my lips open and was now touching my own
tongue.

This was a real kiss! The kind of kiss that some of the more popular
eighth-graders would give their girlfriends in the halls between classes.
There had been something of a make-out epidemic amongst the
eighth-graders over the past few months. The older kids always liked to
show off with ridiculous public displays of affection. I was always
jealous that I never had anyone I could kiss in the halls.

I tried my best to kiss Brad back with as much passion as he was giving
me. I had never given anyone tongue before (Brad's feet didn't count)
and wasn't sure if I was doing it right. I wasn't sure if Brad was
doing it right, either. The kiss was still very exciting. I was so
thrilled that I had dropped my present. I had both arms wrapped tightly
around Brad. I was melting in his arms. It was wonderful to feel his warm
body against mine.

Then he pulled away, as suddenly he had grabbed me. He looked around
nervously. "Toby, if you EVER tell anyone about this, I swear I'll kill
you!"

I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there silently and watched
Brad as he walked off to class. I picked up the present that I had
dropped.

It was a very special moment for me. Sadly, Brad never kissed me again.
He had no problem bullying me and making me his slave, but any show of
tenderness made him very uncomfortable.

I put the package in my locker and spent the rest of the day trying to
guess what it was. I thought I knew what it was and couldn't wait to get
home and open it.

I got home and went right in my room and closed the door. Excited, I sat
on the bed and picked up the package. I started to tear a little corner
of the wrapping. I was delighted to find out my suspicions were correct.
Inside was a clear Ziploc bag, and inside the bag I could see the
familiar red and blue stripes of Brad's dirty tube socks. I took a deep
breath and shoved the package in my underwear drawer. I was going to save
it until my parents went to bed so I could play with them undisturbed.

When it was finally time for bed I closed the door of my room and shut
off all the lights except for the shadowy glow of my desk lamp. I got
completely naked before I went to the drawer and pulled out the package.
I was so hard I was already leaking a bit of precum (I had finally
started shooting real sperm a few weeks earlier. I was even getting a
little hair down there.)

I tore off all the wrapping to find a large Ziploc bags packed tight with
Brad's foul sweat socks. They were far dirtier looking than the socks he
usually wore when I tongued his feet. The white socks had turned
completely gray, and the soles were almost black. I opened the bag and
had a whiff.

The smell was overpowering! Not only did they reek of sweat and foot
odor, but they smelled really dense and musty, too. I began to pull the
socks out of the bag and placed them out on my bed. There were four
pairs, for a total of eight socks. One pair was actually so crusty it
could have stood on end! The crusty ones smelled the strongest, and they
immediately became my favorite pair.

I stayed up late, jacking off and inhaling the stale scent of Brad's
socks the same way he huffed his glue. My brain was so stimulated that it
almost completely blocked out any other sensation but the intense odor
that was filling my nostrils. I sucked the dried sweat of the really
stiff, crusty pair. I came four times that night.

I saw Brad the next day in Health class. We sat next to each other in the
back of the room. Brad smiled sweetly and slipped me a little note.

I looked around carefully to make sure nobody saw us passing notes. There
were mostly boys in the class, and they were all paying close attention
to Miss O'Hara's tight sweater as she talked about fallopian tubes and
ovaries.

I took the note and opened it. It read: HOW DID YOU LIKE YOUR PRESENT?

I wrote back: I LOVED IT! and passed it back to him. Brad read it,
grinned and wrote something else, then passed it back to me.

It read: I'VE BEEN WEARING THEM FOR WEEKS JUST FOR YOU!

I wrote back: THANK YOU SO MUCH! BEST PRESENT EVER!

He wrote back: SLEEP WITH THEM ON YOUR PILLOW.  ENJOY THE STINK.

Then I wrote back: I LIKED THE STIFF ONES THE BEST.

He wrote back: FROM GYM CLASS. BEEN IN MY LOCKER. WORE SAME ONES ALL
SEMESTER. GLAD YOU LIKE.

No wonder why they were so stiff! And so smelly!

To Be Continued