The following is the first installment which will introduce you to the workings of the Woman’s Underground and its subsidiary, the Revenge Squad. More to come. Any names similar to those used in other stories is purely coincidental. I’m merely a recorder of events.


Simon squirmed nervously in his seat as the woman facing him from behind the desk read over the report given him by the president of Omega Phi, the frat he was rushing that week.

The fraternity had presented him with an assignment, sealed in an envelope. He was forbidden to open it; instead, he was directed to the address of a warehouse in an industrial part of town to deliver the contents of the envelope to a woman by the name of Charlene. Apparently, Charlene, a forty-five year old brunette who took extraordinary care of her self, had been expecting him because she greeted him at the door and escorted him to a desk in a room, vacant but for a desk and a couple of chairs.

She surprised him with a pat on the behind as she offered him a seat. From the moment she took er seat, she leered as him, like a wolf contemplating a fatted calf. “You’re very cute.” she informed him with a wink. “I can’t wait to see what your fraternity has in store for you here.”

Charlene gestured towards the envelope in Simon’s hand until he remembered, with a tinge of embarrassment, that he had to give it to her. She accepted it, grazing her hand over his, and tore it open. She opened the report and began to read.

And then Charlene laughed; a slight chuckle at first which increased in volume as she lost control of herself. She paused to gaze at Simon in an attempt at seriousness, but then continued to laugh even more uncontrollably.

The laughter did not go unnoticed because two muscular women, both casually dressed — one in athletic gear and the other in boots and jeans — entered the room.

“What’s so funny,” asked one of the women.

“Well, Gina” began Charlene in an attempt to speak through the fits of laughter, “remember that guy Mike from last year. He was rushing that frat.”

“Yeah,” replied the other woman — Jessie — with a grin. “Oh, you don’t mean …”

Charlene nodded.

Gina then braced Simon with her hand and leaned over towards him. “Sorry to break this to you, but you’re here to smell feet.” She laughed and the others followed suit.

Simon still couldn’t make heads or tails of this. “I don’t understand.”

Charlene then showed Simon the report. “The frat …” she began, “sent you hear to smell stinky feet. Lots of them.”

‘‘He sure came to the right place,” remarked Jessie with a giggle. “These ratty old sneakers always make my feet stink.” The others laughed as Simon turned to observe her sneakers. They were indeed ratty looking.”

“Yeah,” and just wait ‘till he gets a whiff of mine,” added Gina. “I wear these workboots everyday.”

The three of them laughed some more.

”I love this,” remarked Jessie with a grin. “I’m gonna get my feet sniffed tonight.”

“We’d better get back to that guy,” said Gina with a giggle. “Those women are crazy in there,” she chuckled. “If we don’t get back soon, God knows what they’ll do to him.” Gina then turned to Simon. “Can’t wait to rub my stinky feet in your face. I haven’t inflicted my foot stink on a guy in ages.”

Gina and Jessie shared conspiratorial glances as they left the room. “Shut the door,” asked Charlene. They did so, and the door shut with a loud click.

“Oh, don’t look so frightened,” said Charlene. “No one’s going to hurt you. Well, maybe just a little. Just a little humiliation and lots of stinky feet.” Charlene resumed her laughter as Simon began to contemplate how best to leave. It was all too strange.

As her laughter subsided, Charlene pulled her chair back and set her feet on the desk, one at a time. She was wearing knee-high boots, which she crossed one over the other, revealing the scuffed, dirty soles. “’Course, you’ll be smelling my feet too; every inch … even under my toenails. I’m not going to miss out on the fun. And I I just love having my feet licked. But we’ll deal with that later. For now, let me just explain where you are and what we plan to do with you; and assure you that you’re going to be very popular here. I mean, if you love stinky feet, the next couple of days are going to be a blast.”

Simon gulped before stammering a response. “I think I’d better leave.”

“Oh, not until we’re done with you,” replied Charlene firmly. “You’re going to be too much of an asset for me to let you leave. Smelly foot sniffing is very popular among the women who come here; in fact, many of them come here just for that reason. To rub your stinky feet in a man’s face is just fiendish good fun. Besides, we don’t often get cute young guys like you, and we have a couple of local sororities who would love to get their hands … and feet on you. When you’re done, I’ll give you a glowing recommendation to the fraternity. ”

“No, really. I should go.” Simon stood and approached the door. But it was locked.

“Oh, it’s just feet … Simon. You do want to join this fraternity, don’t you?”

Simon, shocked by the entire proceeding, didn’t know what to say.

“Just relax,” she remarked,” and I’ll explain everything.” Simon sat down.

“This is a private club which caters to women,” began Charlene by way of explanation. “They come here to live out fantasies which involve humiliating or punishing men. They pay us money to be abusive and mean, or just to have a laugh at their expense. We have a small cadre of beautiful young men who we pay to suffer these indignities; but many of the men don’t work for us. They pay to be humiliated just as the women pay to humiliate. Everyone’s happy. “

Simon continued to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“But what takes place depends entirely upon what the women want to do. But just to give you a flavor of what we do, let me mention our revenge gang. A woman will come to us interested in punishing a man in some way, and we send out a group of women to do just that. If someone wants an ex to be forced to smell lots of stinky feet, we send out some women who can muster up some healthy foot odor and who can be forceful … like Gina and Jessie. Our revenge program is pretty successful.”

“Now, you’re here to do some serious footsniffing. Many of our loyal clients come here to get their feet licked and sniffed; and many of them come here after work so you know their feet are pretty sweaty and smelly. Now there are men who come here for this brand of humiliation, to have smelly feet rubbed in their faces; but we emphasize that the women do what they want, not what the men want. I warn them but I still get the complaints that feet were too stinky and the experience too humiliating. But it’s not about that they want. It’s what we want. You smell our feet because we want you to.“

“You’ll be here to do what our young male employees do, except you’ll be given the assignments involving stinky feet. Now … let me think. Where can I send you?” she asked herself, tapping her fingernails on the desk. “I’ll probably have some of the girls … maybe Gina and Jessie …. train you a bit. Mold you into something we want. They just love the smelly foot humiliation.”

Then Charlene grinned. “I know a place with lots of girls your age with stinky feet.” Charlene punched a button on the phone so that the dial tone was audible as she glanced over a sheet. She then dialed a number, leaning back in her chair as the phone rang. She had put it on speaker phone for Simon to hear.

“Gamma Delta,” answered a young woman.

“It’s Charlene from Woman’s Underground. Who is this?”

“Katie. Hey … remember me. You’d sent us a guy last month. The one we stripped and had clean our sorority house in the nude. I arranged that with you.”

Charlene laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed that. Yes I remember you.”

Charlene leaned closer to the phone. “But I have something to offer, since you girls have been such good clients of ours. I have a young man here rushing a fraternity.”

“Is he cute?” asked Katie.

Charlene gazed lustfully at Simon. “He sure is. And I’m giving him to you as a gift to enjoy for a night this weekend.”

“Yeah. I guess we could use another nude housecleaner,” replied Katie with a giggle.

“Well, there’s one condition. I know how sometimes you girls come in for a little smelly foot humiliation.”

“Yeah, we love that. Most of us are pretty active in sports so are feet are always getting sweaty and stinky. We love coming over there after practice, and rubbing our dirty sweat socks in a guys face and having our smelly dogs sniffed and licked. It’s such a blast.”

“I need you girls to give him a heavy dose of stinky feet,” continued Charlene. “I figured you girls could be relied upon for a healthy foot odor.” Turning to Simon, she whispered, “I hear their feet really stink.”

“You want us to make him smell our feet? You sure? Cruel and unnatural punishment. Most of us have pretty stinky feet but should we try to get our feet really stinky then?”

“Yes,” answered Charlene. “Have him sniff your old socks, sneakers … and have him lick everyone’s feet.”

Simon could hear Katie howling on the other end of the line. Female voices could be heard and then more giggling.

“How ‘bout tomorrow night. Let’s say 6:00. Most of us have practice in the afternoon. We’ll wear the same socks we’ve been wearing and no one will take showers. I’ll invite over a few friends and the sisters will be here. Oh, just one thing. Can we keep his underwear as a memento. We always do.”

Charlene laughed. “Of course … he’s your gift. Just have him smell your feet for a good while. alright?” “Thanks. 6:00 then.”

“Yes,” said Charlene before hitting a button to end the call.

“Well, that takes care of tomorrow .. now for tonight.” She mused to herself again. “Well, I’m sure that some of our clients tonight could be prevailed upon to offer their feet. But … “ began Charlene as she uncrossed her feet and swung her legs down to the floor. “I’m going to have to work on my smelly feet before I take you on the tour and before I leave you with the crew to train.” She smiled.

“Oh,” she remarked as if remembering something. She reached inside her desk drawer and pulled out a pair of skimpy red briefs. She dangled them for Simon before tossing them over to him. “Put these on before you do my feet. And when you do, remember. Long licks from heel to toe, and between the toes. “

Simon, still too shocked to know what to think, hesitated.

“Well, strip,” said Charlene with a smile. “Or I’ll have the crew — Gina, Jessie and the others — come in and help you.”

“I’d rather leave,” said Simon, firmly. “You can keep your stinky feet in your boots.”

Charlene laughed. “You’ve got fight … I like that.” Then Charlene buzzed an intercom. A woman answered. “I think I need some of you in here. This young man refuses to try on his outfit.” “We’re on our way,” chimed in a female voice, followed by a few giggles.

“Look … please let me go. I don’t feel comfortable.”

Charlene stood and sauntered over to him, sliding a hand over his chest. With her face inches from his, she spoke. “We’re here to make you comfortable … and make you smell feet.” Overcome with a fit of the giggles, all she could do was laugh as Simon struggled to open the door.

And then The door swung open, throwing Simon onto the floor. In walked Gina, Jessie and two other women — Pauline and Andrea — all of them muscular and attractive. Pauline, wearing jeans shorts and old running shoes without socks, knelt down and grabbed hold of Simon. “Are you being a naughty boy?” she asked him with a grin.

Andrea, in casual pants and high-heel loafers, knelt down and pulled of one of his shoes. “Let’s strip him girls,” she squealed with delight. The others fell upon him and pinned him to the floor. They grabbed at him and pulled at his clothes. His shirt was pulled up over his head, and hands fumbled for the buttons and zipper on his pants. Simon, struggling to free himself and beet red with embarrassment, could not overcome this onslaught.

Just as they yanked his shirt up over his head and off his arms, the women, all smiles and giggles, pulled his pants off in one fell swoop. The four of them reached for his boxers and roughly yanked them down his legs.

With their clothes in their hands, they stepped back to taunt Simon. Charlene tossed him the red briefs which he lost no time in putting on. “See …” began Charlene “he’l wear them now.” The women laughed.

Then Charlene pulled a chair over to the middle of the room. “Hold him down with his head near the chair,” she told them. Gina and Pauline grabbed hold of him, still chuckling to themselves and, along with the other two who pulled his legs from under him, pushed him to the floor and sat on him. They held his arms and legs tightly. Try as he might, Simon couldn’t move. “This isn’t funny anymore. I don’t want to join the frat this badly. Please.”

Charlene sat in the chair and leaned over to gaze over him. Simon returned her gaze. She then began to unzip one of her boots. “You’ll be smelling and licking lots of feet this weekend, so you might as well start with mine.” She unzipped the other one. “You’re going to take a big whiff for me, like a good boy.”

Simon heard one boot fall to the floor and then another. And then he saw them: her black stockinged feet, held aloft a couple of feet over his face. The musty, stale stink of foot sweat and boot leather assaulted his nostrils as Charlene wriggled her toes within the stockings. One foot at a time, she placed them on Simon’s face; and, by then, the pungent odor hit him like a slap in the face.

“They smell,” he pleaded. “Please, don’t” Simone struggled to move his head, but Jessie and Paula pressed their dirty, raunchy old sneakers against his head to hold it still. Charlene slid her stockinged feet over his face, gently at first, as if taunting him with the smell.

“Let’s hear you breath it in,” asked Charlene as she cupped her stocking toes over his nose. Simon still attempted to pry his nose free of her smelly toes.

“That’s it,” remarked Charlene, angrily, She shifted in her seat and then pulled her feet from his face as she slid her panties over her ankles. She dropped them on his face. “Put them in his mouth.”

Gina, amused by Simon’s protests, squeezed open his mouth and began to stuff Charlene’s pungent, wet panties into his mouth, enough that he could no longer speak. He continued to moan in protest.

Then Charlene carefully applied her smelly, damp stocking toes to his nose. Simon, attempting not to inhale the odor, held him breath. But nature kicked in, and he took a deep breath. They could all hear it and they cheered.

The smell was dreadful .. of vinegar and sweat … sweet and sour. And it was strong. But Simon had no choice but to inhale again and again, much to the delight of everyone. He couldn’t get over how disgusting this was, having a woman rubbed her unwashed, sweat-soaked stocking feet over his face so freely, and to squeeze his nose as if it were just good fun.

The laughter and the sharp, cheesy smell of Charlene’s sweaty stocking feet were too humiliating for him to just accept it; and he continued to struggle for all he was worth. But the struggling was strenuous, and he found himself taking deeper and deeper nosefulls of her foot odor.

Charlene playfully wriggled her toes over his nose and then brushed the tops under his nostrils. “You’ll learn to accept this and to smell feet with enthusiasm and appreciation.” Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

”And just you wait until you do our feet,’ interjected Jessie. “Charlene’s feet smell like roses compared to our nasty toes.” The women chuckled at this. “We’ll have you clean ‘em too if the stink of my sneakers doesn’t knock you out first. ”

For upwards of ten minutes or so, Charlene rubbed her moist stocking feet all over his face, making sure that he sniffed under her toes, the tips of her gamy toes and even her heels. Already, Simon was growing accustomed to the odor and breathing quite normally. The women had loosened their grip on him and spoke freely amongst one another about the business of the day.

And then Charlene began to slide her stockings down her legs; and, one by one, slid her stockings off over her size seven feet. Charlene’s soles were slightly dirty on the heel and the ball of her foot; but they seemed to be well taken care of. Charlene’s feet, now cool — the sweat dry and caked to her feet — slid over his face, the tips of her cheesy painted toenails grazing his cheek and mouth and nose. She cupped a set of smelly toes over his nose and invited him to “enjoy the aroma.” She pressed her big toes against his nostrils so that he could sniff under the nails — and what an ungodly cheesy smell they produced. Simon wrinkled his nose with disgust and the women giggled.

”I’ll make a footboy of him yet,” explained Charlene. Charlene once again had Simon sniff every inch of her sweaty, smelly feet before pressing yanking the panties from his mouth. Simon choked and sputtered as he took a deep breath of fresh air.

But Charlene promptly pressed a dirty heel over his mouth. “Suck on my heel and clean it with your mouth.” She pressed her heel into his mouth, leaving him no choice but to taste it and press his tongue against it. She then slapped his face with the sole of her other foot; he groaned from the pain.

”You’d better start licking my feet all over. You don’t want to see me mad. I’m a regular ball buster.” The others laughed and gripped him tightly.

Simon struggled to overcome his disgust as he sucked on her heels and the ball s of her feet, licked her soles and sucked on each of her dirty toes. He was forced to lick specks of dirt and fabric from between her toes until her feet looked shower fresh. Occasionally, Charlene would moan softly as she appeared to be enjoyed the contact of Simon’s tongue all over her feet. “Mmmnn. I just love this,” muttered Charlene with eyes closed as she dipped her toes into Simon’s mouth. “You learn fast.”

”Yeah,” added Jessie,” but he hasn’t sniffed any stinky feet yet.”

”I bet the women in 4B,” said Gina, “have smelly feet. Their shoes look old and beat up and I always see them with the same shoes. Besides, I think some of them never wear socks.”

We’ll take him on a tour and then leave him with them,” replied Pauline.

But I want you girls to give him a proper training,” said Charlene. “I want him to be prepared for the sorority girls.”

”Oooh,” added Gina, “he’ll get more stinky feet than he bargained for. “ everyone laughed.

Charlene affectionately squeezed his nose with her toes before pulling them from his face. “Alright,” she began. “I’m going to show him around. And don’t you girls take off your shoes.”

’Hell no,” giggled Andrea. “I want them to be good and smelly for him. He’s going to sniff them real good.”

”Poor guy,” added Jessie with a shake of her head. The women laughed some more.

Simon, somewhat shaken by the experience so far, was hoisted up by the muscular women and slapped on the rear end.

”This is only the beginning,” remarked Charlene who was putting on her boots, now without her stockings. “This is going to be a long weekend for you, fratboy. Women are just going to love having you smell their feet.”

Jessie and Pauline laughed as they pushed him into the hallway, wearing only the skimpy red briefs.


The four prodded and pushed Simon as they escorted him down a hallway from Charlene’s office to another door. The door opened into what appeared to be a waiting area of sorts. There must have been ten or so women (early twenties to forties), some dressed casually, some dressed in business attire and others dressed as if they’d just come back from the gym.

Gina shoved Simon into the room, and as he steadied himself he noticed that all eyes were turned to him. Gina and the other women were laughing too loudly not to attract notice. Remembering that he was wearing nothing but a pair of tight red briefs in a room of fully-clothed women.

“Who is he?” asked a woman dressed in a tee-shirt, work out pants and running shoes. “Have you been hiding him from us?”

Simon noticed a couple of attractive men in their twenties, either kneeling or sitting somewhere unobtrusively. One was massaging a professional woman’s nyloned feet while another lay down while two young women rested their bare feet on his naked chest.

“He’s not one of our boys,” explained Jessie. “He’s just here to amuse us for the weekend. It’s rush week at the university.”

“Is he here for a little humiliation,” remarked another lady, dressed in a jacket, skirt and high heels.

“Oh, you could say that,” said Pauline. “oh, you’ll love this. He’s here to smell feet. Stinky feet.”

Some of the women pulled faces of mock disgust.

“To smell feet?” added the woman in the gym clothes. “Really?”

The women turned to each other, broke into smiles and began to chuckle, first softly, and then more loudly as fits of laughter infected everyone.

“Poor guy,” remarked a young woman with a giggle. “But can he lick our feet. I love getting my toes sucked.”

“’Course,” said Gina. “We can have all kinds of fun with him. We just have to make sure he smells lots of feet.”

“Even a ripe pair of gym feet like mine,” asked the woman in gym clothes. “I’ve been in these shoes all day, and I kept them on to go to the gym.”

“Especially feet like yours,” answered Gina with a chuckle. Others laughed.

The woman sat down and flung her feet onto a small table. She kicked off one sneaker and then the other, both of them tumbling to the floor. With a grin on her face, she turned to Simon, revealing the dirty soles of her white sweatsocks. She wriggled her toes.

“How ‘bout smelling my feet then,” asked the women.

The other women either giggled or voiced expressions of mock disgust as the turned to gaze at the woman’s feet.

Simon hesitated. He didn’t want to go near her feet, especially while she looked at him with such an air of superiority and condescension. But Jessie and Andrea grabbed hold of him and pulled him towards the table. Gina kicked him from behind so he fell to his knees, his face now only feet away from the woman’s smelly gym socks.

He could smell them already. It was a sharp, warm pungent smell of sweat, well-worn sneakers and locker rooms. To think that he would be expected to rub his face against her foul, sweat-soaked sock feet was more than degrading. But he had no choice.

The girls pulled his face towards the woman’s feet until she was close enough to clutch at his nose with her smelly sock toes and rub them over his face. Gina, holding him by his hair and covering his mouth with a hand, giggled as she watched the woman inflict the stench of her sock feet into his face. “This is fun,” she remarked, as she eagerly rubbed her sweat socks all over his face. “Why don’t we do stuff like this more often here?” Others nodded agreement. “You should have the boys do more than just give footrubs and serve as footrests in the waiting room. They should be expected to smell our feet real good, and lick them.”

“Good idea,” replied Jessie. “We should have a few guys who do nothing but sniff, lick and worship feet. They’d be trained to do that. No feet would be too smelly or dirty. We’d call them … footboys.”

The women loved the proposal.

Simon was still enduring the offensive cheesy stench of the woman’s unwashed sock feet when she reached over to yank off her socks. After pushing them into his face, grinding the toe ends over his nose, she then lay back and began to rub her dirty, bare size 8’s in Simon’s face while Gina held onto him.

“I just wish I didn’t have to smell your feet to,” said Gina with a grimace. “If only he weren’t so damned disobedient.’”

“Sorry about the stink,” began the woman,”but I play hard. It’s great here because you don’t have to worry about pleasing men with how we smell or with our appearance. I can come here covered in sweat, wearing my smelly gym clothes, and the boys will still worship me and do what I want.”

She continued to slide her sweat toes over his face, cupping them over his nose, and pressing her toes up against his nostrils. The stink of her toe cheese was atrocious, but she kept forcing him to sniff under her toenails.

“Enough time here will make him obedient. He’ll sniff our smelly feet when we tell him to, and then he’ll thank us.” Some of the women laughed.

“We’re taking him to 4B,” said Jessie. I suppose we should get going.

“Just a few last whiffs,” asked the woman, who cradled his nose between the toes of each of her feet. She held his nose tightly, forcing him to take great big nosefulls of the cloying odor, before pulling her feet away.

“Thanks,” she said. “You’ll have to let me do this again.”

“Of course,” answered Jessie as she and Gina pulled Simon to his feet.

As Simon was dragged from the room, he overheard the woman address one of the “boys”, ordering him to smell her feet. A new tradition had begun.

The girls escorted him down another corridor, past rooms where he’d hear women’s voices, some laughter, some shouting. He could hear a man plead for mercy along with the crack of a whip. He was taken though much of this wherehouse, now devoted to the humiliation and abuse of men. And women, appreciating his looks and youth, sized him up and grabbed him as he passed. Women would invariably make for his behind either to pinch it or squeeze it.

This was a place where women had total control and did just about whatever they pleased. There was no restraint. The women were free to be themselves and act upon their impulses. If they wanted to get their feet sniffed, they got them sniffed.

“Ah …” observed Jessie as she glanced at a door. “4B” Paula knocked.

“Come in,” was the reply from within.

Jessie opened the door and pushed Simon inside. Four women in their twenties/ early thirties, dressed casually in jeans, shirts, sneakers or boots, were standing around a small room, taunting an older man who lay naked on the floor at their feet. Judging from the redness of his posterior, they must have administered either a spanking or a paddling. One of them had a sneakered foot pressed against his privates and was apparently inflicting a little pressure.

The women in 4B turned to gaze at Simon. They appeared to be relieved to set eyes upon a cute young guy for a change.

“We come bearing a gift,” said Gina. “The fraternity he’s rushing sent him here for our amusement. You’ll never guess what he’s here for.”

“What for,” asked one of the young women, eagerly anticipating the explanation.

“He has to smell feet, the smellier the better.”

The four young women turned to each other and then let out a groan of disgust in unison. The giggled at the coincidence.

“We thought you guys might like to have him smell your feet, “continued Gina. And you should have him lick them too. Might as well.”

“Are you sure?” said one of the women. ‘We’re P.A.s on a film set and we just wrapped up a twelve hour day starting at the crack of dawn. We’ve been on our feet all day so I don’t think our feet are going to smell too pretty.”

“Don’t worry,” added Gina. “He’s here to smell feet. It doesn’t matter if they stink. Besides, it’s better if they do. That’s why we came to see you guys. I remember one of the boys telling me how much the room stank when you guys took off your shoes.”

“Oh, thanks,” replied one of the women, in mock offense. Everyone laughed.

“He’s here for you to play with. Just make sure he smells everyone’s feet. So be sure to return him to us when you finish. We have to train him a bit, and have a little fun ourselves. Be firm with him.”

A couple of the women grabbed hold of Simon and began to feel him up, grabbing his behind, crotch and feeling his legs and arms. “What a nice piece of ass,” remarked one of the women. “If I were a guy, I’d fuck him.” Everyone laughed. Someone grabbed hold of his briefs and slid them down to his ankles. Simon instinctively covered himself but they pulled his hands away. “Nice cock too,” observed one of them.

”The four of us’ll leave him to the four of you,” said Gina as she and Jessie, Pauline and Andrea, all smiles, filed from the room, closing the door behind them.

One of the women gave the older man a swift kick to the chest and told him to get out. He rose unsteadily and ran for the door, making a speedy exit. “He came for abuse and, boy, did he find it.”

“I prefer it when we have one of the boys,” said someone.

“He’ll do,” said another as the women manhandled Simon and pulled him to the floor. They pulled up chairs and sat down, holding him down by stepping on him with their shoes. Simon, having seen what the women did to the older man, chose not to offend by attempting escape. He lay still, pondering what dreadful things they might do to him.

The women were as follows: Lisa, Jessica, Vanessa and Zoe. They were at best, cute, and, at worst, plain.

Lisa, sitting close to his face, held her sneakered feet against his shoulders. “Well, I guess if you’re here to smell feet, you might as well smell our feet.” Lisa then pried off her sneakers and promptly pressed her warm sock feet onto his face. “Enjoy,” she remarked with a giggle.

The smell was unforgivably potent and rank with the odor of sweat and sneaker. A total stranger had just pressed her stinking sock feet in his face, and he was smelling them. It was too much. Simon pushed her feet away and sprung up.

But the women were prepared. The other three piled on top of him, and one of them grabbed him by the balls, squeezing until he begged for them to let him go.

“Are you going to smell our feet without complaint,” asked Jessica.

Simon promised and they let him go. Lisa returned her ripe sock feet to his face and slowly began to rub the humiliating stink into his face, squeezing his nose with her toes and sliding them over his lips.

“I think this is going to be fun,” remarked Lisa just after they heard Simon inhale what they all knew to be a the foul smell of her overworked size 8 1/2’s. The others rested their feet on his body while Lisa took full advantage of his position to get every inch of her sweaty sock feet sniffed.

Eventually, the socks came off and Lisa began to slide her sweaty soles over his face, rubbing his nose between her toes and the ball of her feet against his chin. Toes brushed against his nostrils as she rubbed her feet, heel to toe, up and down his face.

The pungent stink of stale foot sweat was offensive, but Simon was getting used to this brand of humiliation. He was already learning to accept what was being forced upon him.

When she offered her dirty soles for him to lick clean, he did so tentatively at first, with little dabs of his tongue, and then with broad strokes, realizing it would be far better to get it over with. He scraped her hard callouses with his teeth and removed the accumulated dirt from between her toes with his tongue. He was hell bent on completing the task. But there were still three more pairs of smelly feet waiting to be sniffed and licked.

One by one the girls took their turns, Jessica, Zoe and Vanessa. Jessica kicked off her boots to rub her ripe dark sock feet in his face before pulling them off and pressing her moist, vinegary, warm bare feet onto his face. As she played with his nose with the long stinky toes of her size 10’s, the cloying aroma of unwashed feet assaulted his senses. He wanted it to stop, but the women, giggling and teasing him were enjoying it too much.

“My heels are dirty,” observed Jessica. “Clean them.” Simon, suing teeth and tongue did just that, and tasted the acrid sweat from her feet.

“Pretty stinky down there?” said Zoe as she took her turn at the helm. She pried off her sneakers and quickly pressed her damp sock feet onto his face, holding her ripe socks toes just over his nose. The sharp, musty smell of overworn sneakers was overpowering; but Simon endured and sniffed loud enough to amuse them.

Zoe’s bare feet were no smellier than everyone else’s feet, but her toenails were dirty and hadn’t been cut in weeks. Unfortunately, Zoe took great delight in having Simon sniff the fulsome smell of sharp cheddar cheese which emanated from under her nails. Like the others, she had Simon lick her dirty feet clean.

Vanessa, also wearing a scuffed pair of sneakers, eagerly took her turn and presented poor Simon with another pair of sweaty sock feet. She clutched at his nose playfully, telling him to sniff harder, before having Simon pull off her crusty sock feet with his teeth. Her bare size 9’s played freely over his face; and she cupped her toes over his nose to ensure that he inhaled the gamy vinegar smell of her unwashed feet and the ripe cheesy stench of her toenails.

While Vanessa had Simon lick her feet clean, others would be resting their bare feet on his chest or pressing them against his head. Once Vanessa finished, the other three once again turned their attention to his face, as four pairs of smelly feet slid over his face and alternately squeezed his nose. He was revisited with each odor, all of them different but equally foul. But, for Simon, it wasn’t so much the smell that humiliated him, but that these women could enjoy the freedom of rubbing their sweaty feet in his face as much as they wanted.

“You know, Gina was right,” observed Jessica. “the room stinks.” Everyone laughed. They grabbed their socks and dropped them in his face, holding crusty toe ends over his nose and ordering him to sniff.

To add the final humiliating touch, Simon, naked, was asked to stand up. They tied his arms behind his back with rope and then stepped before him.

“Well,” began Zoe. “Thanks for smelling our feet. Hope they weren’t too stinky. But we had a lot of fun; maybe you’ll let us do this again someday.”

Simon, too offended by the request, said nothing.

Jessica grabbed one of her ratty old sneakers and began to loosen the shoestrings. ‘I’ll take him to the others. But I want to do one more thing.” With that, Jessica held the open end of her rotten sneaker over his face and began to pull the laces around his head. Such a gesture took the others by surprise, but then aroused pronounced chuckles as they contemplated the audacity of the act. Jessica finished tying the rancid old sneaker in place.

Simon was almost suffocating from the warm, brutal stench of her rotten sneakers. He could breath in nothing but the putrid scent and it was already making him light headed. But there was nothing Simon could do but stand there, with a dirty old sneaker tied to his face, for the amusement of the women.

“That’s so gross,” said Zoe. “I love it.”

With that, Jessica grabbed Simon by the arm and, carrying her other sneaker in her hand, escorted him to the door. Vanessa followed, holding the sneaker to his face so that he would have to breathe in the noxious stench until they returned him to Gina. The other women were laughing too hard to say anything. Zoe did remark, “hope you come smell our stinky feet again soon.”

Jessica and Vanessa then took Simon into the hallway where he was already the subject of much interest and amusement by all who witnessed him.


So poor Simon was escorted from the private room by Jessica and Vanessa, who held a ratty old sneaker held to his face, compelling him to breathe in the noxious odor. He was taken downstairs, naked, in front of the women passing in the halls and through the lobby where his absurd presence elicited a few giggles and titters.

The young women brought him to a door, whereupon Jessica knocked. The door opened, and Gina could barely refrain her evident laughter at the ridiculous sight.

”Looks like you guys had some fun,” remarked Gina, opening the door. “Look girls, “ she added as she turned back towards Paula and another women — Jennifer –dressed in stockings, heels and a skirt.

The other women stepped over and wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”

”Probably my sneaker,” was Jessica’s reply. “I suppose we should get going,” she added removing the sneaker form over his head.

”Thank you for returning him,” said Gina. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing him.”

Jessica and Vanessa laughed and turned to leave, but not without inflicting a few had slaps on Simon’s behind. Gina, amused by these antics, grinned at Simon as she closed the door.

”I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far. You’re making quite an impression on everyone. “

Jennifer examined him. “So this poor guy has to smell our feet?” She wrinkled her nose again. “His face smells.”

Jennifer, Paula and Gina turned to each other and began to laugh. Gina then turned to address Simon. “Well, you’re here to be trained. Jessie and the others will be in a few minutes. But we might as well get started. Now, you’re here to please us. Since it amuses us to inflict our smelly feet on you, you’ll be smelling and licking everyone’s feet. “

Paula and Jennifer giggled.

Gina continued. “Now we thought we’d also have a bit of a competition. See who has the smelliest feet. Winner gets to have you to herself tonight.”

Paula howled and cheered.

”You’re going to learn how to smell a stinky foot without complaint, and lick a dirty foot clean without batting an eyelid. You’re going to treat our sweaty feet like gold. And you’re going to thank us for rubbing them in your face tonight.”

Paula and Jennifer continued to laugh. Simon wanted to tell them what they could do with their feet, but he refrained. What was the point of speaking his mind. They were going to do whatever they wanted with him, and they wanted to humiliate him with their feet.

Just then, the door opened. In walked Jessie, Andrea and a third woman, Susan, looking every bit a professional in a business suit and heels.

”You and Jennifer look so … smart today,” said Gina to Susan. “What’s the occasion?”

”Oh, we did a revenge outing .. remember?” was Susan’s reply. “Four of us were dressed up to kick this guy’s ass. She wanted us to dress up like his co-workers and use our high-heels to give him what was coming to him. Stripped him and gave him a good working over … standing on him … kicking him.”

Susan sat down, nursing her ankle with a hand. “But these shoes are killing me.”

”Well, lucky you,” began Gina. “This young man is here to soothe your aching feet with his mouth.”

”Yeah,” said Susan. “Great, but maybe I should wash my feet first. I always sweat up a storm in these tight shoes and I’ve had them on all day … not to mention the fact that I wore these pantyhose yesterday.”

”Oh, he won’t mind the smell,” remarked Jessie with a grin. “He’s here to smell stinky feet.”

”Ah … so this is the guy,” observed Susan with a smile. “Well, in that case, let’s have some fun. ”

”And see who has the smelliest feet,” added Jessie while everyone cheered and whooped it up.”

”Why don’t we do this some other time,” uttered Simon. “It’s getting late and …”

Gina cut him short. “You’re going no where until everyone in this room gets her feet sniffed real good.” Gina then turned to Jessie. “Why are you so sweaty?”

”Oh, I just went for a run,” was Jessie’s reply.

”Boy,” said Jennifer. “Someone wants to win this competition.” Jessie then squeezed Simon’s ass and gave his cock a squeeze.” Everyone laughed.

Gina then took a seat. “Alright, Simon, get on your knees.” Jessie gave Simon a gentle push, but Simon did not hesitate to do as he was told. He knew he didn’t stand a chance with this women, should they decide to rough him up. They were all pretty athletic and some of them were even muscular.

Gina, wearing shorts and work boots with white socks, crossed one bare leg over the other. She swung her booted foot close to his face. “Now take off my boot and smell my foot.”

Simon, slowly at first, untied the shoelaces and then eased off the boot. As she slid her sock foot from the confines of the boot, a powerful odor engulfed him and shocked his senses. It was the repugnant smell of well-worn socks, musty and heavy. As Gina pressed her foot against his face, curling her warm sock toes against his nose, the smell was sickeningly sweet, like fruit and cheese. And it lingered in his nose even when she pulled her sock foot away from him.”

”Take the other one off,” she commanded, as she continued to grind her stinky sock foot over his nose. He did so, and as soon as the other shoe fell to the floor, she removed the one sock foot and replaced it with the warm, ripe sock foot just released from the boot.

“Smell them so everyone can hear,” she ordered. He took a deep breathe so everyone for everyone’s benefit. And it produced giggles and titters. “I don’t know if I can beat that stink,” remarked Jennifer who appeared to be backing away form Gina and Simon.

”With her sock feet pressed firmly against Simon’s face, Gina pushed him towards the floor. She then began to rub her pungent sock feet all over his face, rubbing the balls of her feet against his nose and the heels. Jessie pressed her feet, sweating away in her rubbing shoes, on either side of his head to hold it firmly in place. Already, Simon could smell the sharp, distinctive stench of old sneakers.

Gina eventually removed her socks and began to humiliate him with her bare feet, slightly discolored on the heels and on the balls of her feet from walking barefoot somewhere. With her toes tightly clamped to his nose, she told him to “smell her cheesy toes;” and then with the tips of her malodorous toenails pressed against his nostrils, she asked him to thank her for letting him smell her feet.

”Ah … thank you,” he mumbled.

Gina slapped his face hard, making him wince. “Say it like you mean it.”

”Thank you,” Simon responded.

”And tell me you love smelling my feet,” she added. To everyone’s amusement, Simon said just that.

”Your feet still stink to high heaven,” added Andrea who, like the others, was enjoying the spectacle of Gina inflicting her ripe feet in Simon’s face. Gina rubbed her feet, heel to toe, all over his face, rubbing the greasy sweat into his pores, and letting his nose slide between her sweaty toes.”

”Now for some advice. Just remember to show enthusiasm, even if you don’t feel it. Smell our feet like there’s nothing else you’d rather do. And thank us for having such wonderful smelling feet. Never show your disgust; and I noticed how disgusted you were with my feet. Bad form, that was. And, don’t forget, louder sniffs. Show your appreciation for the gift of our feet. No woman wants to know she smells bad.”

”What’s more, no woman likes to be dirty. And my feet could use a cleaning,” said Gina, wriggling her toes just over his mouth. “Open.” Simon opened his mouth, and Gina slid her toes inside, wriggling them enthusiastically.

”Now clean ‘em.” His tongue slid reluctantly against the underside of her toes. “Work your tongue around the toes and slide it between them. That’ll remove dirt.” Simon did as he was told, disgusted as he took bits of dirt and fabric into his mouth. “And then suck on the toes, slowly and sensuously; especially the big toe. Suck on them as if they were delicious fruit; and don’t make faces because of the salty taste.”

Simon tried not to reveal his disgust with the humiliation of licking a woman’s unwashed, stinky feet, as he followed her instructions. He licked and sucked on her heels as directed; and then sucked on the balls of her feet, using his teeth and tongue to scrape off dirt and wash them clean. She dipped her cleaned feet into his mouth a few more times before she announced that she was finished with him.”

”So far so good but you will have a lot to learn. So who’s next?”

Jessie stepped forward and leaned over Simon’s face. “Remember not to show your disgust no matter how smelly my feet are.” Simon gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

Only a few seconds passed before the potent odor of smelly sneakers and the warm, sharp cheesy stench of sweat-soaked gym socks. He felt the rough, damp fabric on his face, before the full blow of the odor hit him. As her pungent and dirty sock toes curled about his nose, he wanted to shake them off; but he steeled himself, keeping his hands at his side.”

”He didn’t flinch,” remarked Jennifer, standing even further away. ‘I’m impressed.”

”I love this,” remarked Jessie as she took full advantage of his helpless position by rubbing her sock feet over his face, and holding the tips of her sock toes over his nose.”

Jessie then reached back for one of her sneakers. They looked as though they were falling apart.

”Now smell these without flinching, and then thank me,” said Jessie as she held an open sneaker over his nose. The warm stench flooded his nasal passages and his body lurched for the shock. It was rancid.

”Oh, anyone would have flinched if they had to smell those,” said Andrea in Simon’s defense. But Jessie was less forgiving. “Just for that, you’ll have to smell them for another minute.” She held it over his face, reveling in her power over him. “I’ve sweated in these for years, you know.”

Just as Simon came close to passing out from the overpowering smell of her sneaks, she pulled it away, letting fresh away penetrate his nostrils. “Now thank me.” Simon thanked her. Everyone laughed at his predicament.

”He’s learning,” remarked Gina, almost like a proud mother.

”I was hoping for a little more resistance,” declared Susan. “Thought Jennifer and I might trample him a little in our heels to break him down.”

“I think Jessie might win this competition hands down,” said Jennifer. “Or should I say feet down.”

”Oh, thanks for reminding me,” responded Jessie who peeled off her sweat socks to present Simon with a pair of dirty size 9 soles. She wriggled her toes, revealing flecks of red nailpolish which had flaked off. She pressed the ball of one foot against his nostrils, and the acrid, vinegary scent poured inside him. He fought his desire to push her unwashed foot away, and took a deep breath per his instructions.

”So you like the smell of my stinky feet,” remarked Jessie with a grin. “Maybe I’ll let you smell ‘em for a while.” Jessie used her parmesan-smelling toes to play with nose, grappling with it and sliding it between her toes. She slid her toenails under his nostrils and let him inhale the stink for minutes on end.

”Remember to keep the enthusiasm up,” said Jessie. “You love how they smell. Don’t forget.” Simon took a deep breath and the others, hearing this, applauded. Like Gina, she was thorough, and forced Simon to sniff every inch of her smelly feet.

”Now clean ‘em,” added Jessie. “Just like Gina told you too.” She presented him with her dirty heels and took him through the entire process of cleaning a woman’s dirty feet. He chewed on bits of sock and dirt as he licked the tart film of sweat on her feet, and sucked on the slightly calloused ball of her foot.

He worked on her toes, using his tongue to snake in between her toes, earning him a complement on his skillfulness. The women loved watching him use his tongue.

Jessie then surprised every one by using a file to scrape the dirt from under her big toenails. “Lick it off and eat it,” she ordered. He hesitated, but a persuasive and gentle jab of a high heel to his balls made his mind up for him. He licked it off and swallowed, disgusted more with the act than with the taste.

After once again introducing his face to the stinky toe ends of her crusty gym socks by dangling them over his nose, Jessie pulled her feet away. ”Alright, I’m done,” declared Jessie. “Who’s next?”

Jennifer stepped over and took a seat. “I don’t think my feet could ever be as stinky as Jessie’s. Smelly, yes … but I’d never win a competition.” Everyone laughed.

Jennifer kicked off her heels, presenting Simon with the bottoms of her black nyloned feet. They gave off a strong, musty odor, foot sweat and shoe leather combined in a smell which overpowered but failed to disgust Simon. She pressed her warm feet onto him and began to slide them over his face, squeezing his nose between her eager toes. “Smell my feet … and smell ‘em good,” ordered Jennifer.

Simon still found this abject position under a woman’s feet humiliating, but he endured it. After Jessie’s foul feet, Jennifer’s healthy foot odor was nothing. But her feet were extraordinarily sweaty and he could feel the dampness on his face as she played footsies with his face.

She slid her pantyhose off and , after scrunching the ends over Simon’s nose with her toes, she began to explore his face with the toes of her smelly size 7’s. She rubbed her feet, heel to toe, over his face, and appeared to relish the freedom. She ordered him to kiss them and to thank her for letting him smell them.

”You know,” mused Jennifer. “This is fun. I don’t know why we don’t do this more often.”

”When we do revenge assignments, we should do smelly, dirty foot humiliation,” added Andrea. “We should at least train our boys to worship feet.” Everyone agreed.

Once Jennifer had Simon lick her calloused feet clean and suck on her toes, Andrea took a position close to Simon’s face. She kicked off her high-heel loafers, and wriggled the painted toes of her slender size 9’s. The warm, musty smell of stale foot sweat reached his nose just before her toes did. And she immediately clutched his nose between her warm, sweaty toes.

Again, the smell was nothing compared to Jessie and Gina’s potent foot odors; but they still smelled like stinky, unwashed feet; and it was still humiliating. He took in a few deep breaths, audible enough for all to hear, and even volunteered a “thank you” to get on everyone’s good side.

”I think he thanked me for letting him smell my stinky dogs,” remarked Andrea with a giggle. Others joined in her amusement. Gina, with a smile, gently slid her hand over his inner thigh, giving him a sudden rush of pleasure. “You’re pleasing us; the more you please us, the more we’ll please you.”

And so from then on, Simon mustered all the enthusiasm he could for their stinky feet. He thanked them and kissed their feet without asking. Gina let her fingers play over his cock and balls. His hardon provoked additional comments and titters. “He’s smelling my feet and he’s hard,” was Andrea’s observation.

Simon cleaned Andrea’s feet and then Susan took her turn, sliding her smelly, musty-smelling nylon over his face, and sliding her toes under his nostrils. “That feels kinds nice,” remarked Susan as Simon breathed cool air being through her toes and into his nose. He scraped her callouses clean with his teeth and let his tongue slide along her sole, provoking a few moans. He was actually beginning to enjoy the process of giving the women pleasure in this fashion.

Paula was last to take her turn and stepped before Simon in her shorts and running shoes, worn all day without socks. “I think I might be able to give Jessie a run for her money,” she declared as she took her seat and swung a sneakered foot over her leg, just inches away from his face.

”As she pulled off the shoe at the heel and slid it off her foot, a warm blast of air hit his face. It was sharp and pungent; the smell of a foot sweat and locker rooms; more pungent than Jessie’s odor but not as potent. The running shoes seemed too new.

A sweaty foot found his face and then another, as Andrea began to rub her vinegary foot sweat into his face. As she curled her sweaty toes over his nose, he took a deep breathe. “Pretty stinky, huh” was Andrea’s remark.

”Oh, but not as smelly as Jessie’s” Gina replied. Everyone agreed that Jessie had the stinkiest feet. “It’s the sneakers,” was Jessie’s proud reply. “I’ve had ‘em for years. Imagine if I’d work ‘em without socks.” Some of the women groaned and then giggled.

Andrea, like the others, enjoyed rubbing her sweaty size 9 1/2 feet in Simon’s face, and especially loved the foot licking. “I’ve always wanted my own foot licker,” Andrea quipped. “Oooh, that’s it. Between my nasty toes.” Simon licked the gunk form between her toes and sucked on the balls of her feet until Andrea pulled them away, remarking, “That feels too good.”

Gina then called upon everyone to give Simon one more dose of foot stink, so that he could decide who had the stinkiest feet. Gina, Jessie and Paula laughed as they covered his face in feet, taking turns squeezing his nose and ordering him to sniff. The accumulation of foot odor was overwhelming, but Simon managed to show some enthusiasm, and sniffed loudly. And then Susan, Jennifer and Andrea took a turn. At any one time, three women had at least one sweaty foot on his face. Toes played with his nose and slid under his nostrils to be sniffed. Toes were pushed into his mouth for him to suck.

Finally, Simon was reminded of how everyone’s feet smelled. One by one, the women took their turns until Gina asked him who had the foulest foot odor. “I … thought everyone had such lovely smelling feet.” There were sniggers. “But I suppose Jessie had the most powerful scent … not that it was bad.”

Gina squeezed his cock. “I think we’ve made a foot boy of you. This is a proud moment.” Everyone cheered.

Jessie retrieved one of her sneakers and placed it over Simon’s nose, commanding him to breathe it in for a while. “The smell of victory,’ she said.

And so Jessie won the smelly foot competition, and after compelling Simon to endure the fetid stench of her rotten sneakers, she ordered him to stand and follow her. The women thanked him for smelling their feet and teased him about what he’d endured and about what lay ahead for him. They were full of smiles and remarks like “We could use a great footlicker like you when we get back from the gym” or “foot service like this’ll be great after a long day on our feet.”

”What a long night, huh?” remarked Gina. Simon said nothing.

”You’ll have to work on being more polite, and answering when spoken to.” Jessie slapped his face. “Answer her,” she hissed.

”Yes, it’s been a rough night,” responded Simon, holding a hand to his face.

”We’ll make a great foot sniffer and foot licker of you yet,” was Gina’s final remark as Jessie pulled him by the arm form the room.

Jessie took him to Charlene’s deserted office where he dressed himself. Jessie then took him outside to her car and ordered him to get inside. She drive him to a small house on the outskirts of town, not five minutes away from the remodeled wherehouse where he’d spent this excruciating evening smelling stinky feet.

He pondered escape, but almost looked forward to whatever Jessie had in mind for him. She shot him lustful glances, and, though her feet were foul, she was young and attractive, and incredibly sexy. Jessie was sure of herself and knew what she liked. She was strong, assertive and athletic, and controlled Simon quite easily with her commanding presence.

And so Simon belonged to Jessie that evening, and I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Suffice it to say that she found many uses for his mouth and tongue, and kept Simon very busy. He got a fitful night’s sleep because she made him sleep with her ratty sneaker attached to his face, forcing him to breathe in the warm, heady stench all night. But he got enough rest, and had enough time to ponder what in God’s name happened to him.

But that evening, Jessie related a story about one of her assignments with the revenge squad; an incident that required her and her buddies to inflict their smelly feet upon one poor guy. The next installment will relate this story.


That night, Jessie told Simon the story of the first smelly foot revenge squad ever formed.

”It happened about a year ago,” began Jessie. “Charlene called a bunch of us together to meet with a client about forming a possible revenge squad. I’d done a bunch of them before. Mostly just gang up on a guy, kidnap him, strip him and humiliate him a bit. Or we’d just rough them up. But to be roughed up and stripped by a bunch of girls would always be pretty humiliating.”

”Anyway, this assignment was going to be quite different. There were seven of us: the stronger more sporty ones. And we sat around the table waiting for Charlene to bring the client in. And when she did bring the client in, I wondered who was the boss: Charlene or the client. This woman took charge almost immediately. She knew what she wanted and she had a precise notion of what we had to do.”

This client was called Miranda, and, as it turns out, she had a bizarre nickname. Stinkfoot, or so I’ve been told. But judging from the beat up old canvas shoes she wore, I could see why. She must have had those same sneakers since high school. She was pretty and almost seemed too nice to say some of the things she did. But she rallied us in a way no one had ever done.”

Charlene addressed us first. “Now I’ve called you guys here because we have a peculiar, but I hope fun, mission ahead of us. naturally, she wants us to humiliate a man, but she has a rather hilarious idea about how to do it.” I remember how amused Charlene seemed and we were anxious for her to come to the point.

”I’ve invited you guys — Jocelyn, Gina, Pauline, Tracy, Jessie, Viv and Angela — because you’re all pretty athletic, strong, sporty girls. You work out …are always active. But most importantly, I know that others have sometimes remarked that your feet have been smelly.”

We were all a bit surprised to hear such an accusation, and we denied the charge, instinctively. “What are you talking about,” asked Gina, perturbed by Charlene’s remarks. “Who accused us?” added Jocelyn. “Probably Erica … she’s always had an overly sensitive nose. The bitch.” We were defensive; no one likes to be accused of being smelly.

Charlene attempted to reassure us. “No one accused you of anything. I just make it a point of knowing things. But all of that’s irrelevant. You’re here to help out the client, and I believe you’re the women to do it.”

And that’s when Miranda took over. She glared at us like an army sergeant about to command his troops. It was weird but inspiring.

”I want revenge,” she began. “I want revenge for a small thing, but a great thing to me. I’m being courted by a man, not much older than myself, but loaded. he throws money at me, complements me but … and this is a big but … he keeps telling me I have smelly feet. He’d refuse to suck on my toes because he told me my feet were too stinky.”

Some of the girls tittered at this. It was funny, you had to admit. Charlene told us to stop laughing. But Miranda reassured us by smiling with us. She was being tongue and cheek.

”But feet smell,” added Gina. “Doesn’t this guy realize that?”

”Exactly. Besides, I don’t like having someone telling me how to live my life or how fragrant my feet should be. They’re my feet, and if I want them to be stinky, then they will be stinky. Feet smell. Why should I be embarrassed if my feet stink?”

Some of us applauded her.

”So I’m using his money to pay you guys to give him a massive dose of stinky feet. I wanted some women with big, sweaty feet. Charlene tells me none of you have smaller than a size 9 shoe?”

We turned to each other and smiled. Some of us giggled to ourselves at Miranda’s words. But I was putting two and two together. I’d heard about the legend of Stinkfoot. I knew her name was Miranda and that she often wore old sneakers without socks. This must have been another one of her pranks.

”I want you to do this. Take him by surprise, kidnap him and do whatever you do to take him under your control. take him somewhere private, strip him and humiliate him however you like. But I’m paying you to making him smell your feet. I want you to rub the sweat from your feet all over his face. I want him to smell your sneakers and your gym socks. I want him to sniff your sweaty toes. And I want you to laugh and have fun doing it to him.”

We were still speechless but then Gina spoke up. Gina always embraced a new form of humiliation. “So …wait a minute, you want us to just rub our stinky feet in his face and force him to smell them. We don’t have to wash our feet first. Wouldn’t it be humiliating enough just to have a bunch of women rub their feet in his face?”

”No, I want your feet to be absolutely stinky.”

”Fair enough,” commented Gina with a smile. The rest of us continued to titter at the audacity of the plan.

”One more thing,” proceeded Miranda. “I’m giving you three days notice not just to plan the abduction and all the other things you arrange. I want you to make an effort to get your feet and stinky as possible. Try not to wash you feet. Wear the same socks until then. Wear sneakers without socks. Just do what you can to build up a strong foot odor to assault him with.”

”How can I go till then without washing?” asked “I work out a lot and I like to keep clean.”

”She’s paying us quite well,” explained Charlene. “You’ll be compensated.”

”Well,” offered Miranda. “He’s paying you quite well.”

We all laughed at the brutal honesty behind this statement. We quite liked her and we more than happy to oblige by getting our feet sweaty and smelly for the humiliation.

”Just do your best,” added Miranda. “ I understand if you can’t go without washing until then.

”You could probably still wash you face and hair,” commented Charlene. “Or your upper body if you do it right.”

”Don’t worry,” remarked Gina. “I won’t wash my feet. They’ll be pretty rank on Friday, especially after two club team soccer practices and tennis. “

Miranda then explained in great detail how she wanted the evening to go, and how we would use our smelly feet to humiliate him. We were all ears. The naysayers were soon won over and we were all enthusing about how much fun it was going to be.

”I spoke to her after the meeting because I wanted to talk to this Stinkfoot legend myself. I approached her and said “I just have to ask …”

”Am I stinkfoot,” was her frank reply. She locked me in her gaze.

”Well, that’s not what I was going to ask, but … I was wondering that as well.”

”Miranda broke the tension by laughing; I joined her. “Well, it’s true. I am … but some of the stories aren’t always true. And they never tell my side of it.”

”well … if you told the stories … then we’d learn the truth.”

”No … only my side of it. I’m just having a little fun, and no man has ever been hurt or emotionally scared from the experience. I just give them a vivid memory, one they can’t brush aside. We should always have fantastic memories, even if the memory of having dirty smelly feet rubbed in your face doesn’t seem that pleasant.”

”You really like getting your feet smelly?” I asked.

”yes, I do. Because I always get a chance to compel a man to smell them and lick them. It’s easy to manipulate men. I do clean my feet, and I take good care of them. I even paint my nails. But I wear ratty old shoes, sometimes for long periods of time. Now, it’s impossible for me to get rid of the cheesy smell, which is fine by me.”

”I heard a story about some guy getting imprisoned by a bunch of girls at a soccer camp. Petey I think his name was. They kept him there for days, forcing him to smell and lick their smelly feet. I heard you had something to do with it.”

”I’d love to have been credited for that one; but the official story makes no mention of me. I’d already influenced the counselor with my stories when I worked there as an instructor. Some of the girls knew about my escapades and I suppose they finally had a chance to act out their desires. I’d left by the time the poor guy walked into this trap. I just sowed the seeds.”

”This is great,” I said. “I mean I was always amused by the stories, and thought it would be fun. But I figured it wasn’t real … that these were just the imaginative flights of fancy. But I always thought it would be cool if these women were really humiliating these guys with their stinky feet. I think it’s great that I’m going to be one of them.“

”I only wish I could inspire more women to take charge and rub their smelly feet in men’s faces,” mused Miranda.

”But you’ve done so much. Just keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. Big things always start small.”

”Well …” added Miranda, embracing me with an arm, “have fun on Friday … and get him good.”

”You bet we will,” I answered as I bid Miranda farewell. yes, she’s real and she’s just a woman who enjoys having a little power over men. But what woman doesn’t?”

So the seven of us made our preparations. We followed him to and from work, got used to his routine. But Miranda was making it easy for us. She’d designed a ruse to trick the guy into an alleyway where we could easily collect him and draw him into our revenge squad van. She’d sent him an anonymous note from a woman who allegedly wanted to meet him behind a store for an illicit rendezvous. Knowing what a sleazebag he was, she knew he’d make an effort to be at that precise spot. And he was; right on schedule.

For days we’d been making every effort to get our feet stinky. I wore the same old tennis shoes without socks, in the tradition of Miranda. Others wore the same socks or pantyhose, or went days without washing their feet. With each approaching hour, we got more and more anxious, anticipating the moment when we were finally going to get our stinky toes sniffed by some dickweed of a guy.

Four of us lingered in the van, which we’d parked to one side of the alleyway. The others lay hidden from view, ready to converge upon him at the appointed time. Gina, in charge of the squad, gave the signal, and we started the van up. We reversed it in the direction of the startled guy, while the others sprung up from behind a dumpster, wearing face masks. We opened the back of the van, hopped out and quite easily mastered him. He must have been far too surprised to know what to think. We just threw him into the car and hopped in after, shutting the van door after us. We sped off, proud that we’d pulled off the capture so speedily and so slickly. He was ours.

The guy must have bee in his late thirties; he was a business man … real smart looking. He kept asking us what the hell was going on. But everytime he spoke, one of us just slapped him in the face and ordered him to shut up. Viv and Tracy tied his hands behind his back while Gina approached him, grabbing his face fiercely with her right hand.

”No questions, alright?” she hissed. Oh, it was so much fun intimidating men like this. Nothing seemed to frighten them more than a group of angry, slap-happy women. “We’re just going to teach you a little lesson. And if you shut up, you won’t get hurt. We’re just being paid to humiliate you a bit, and that’s what we’re going to do? We’re going to humiliate you in ways that only woman can.”

But the guy didn’t know when to shut up. He was more anxious than ever, inquiring as to what we were going to do to him. A hard-fisted punch to the face from Angela silenced him though.

We arrived at our destination, and blindfolded him. It was the wherehouse, of course. the Most discrete place of all. The guy — David I think his name was — was stunned, as if he’d lost the use of his legs. We had to drag him inside and into the room where we were going to play with him.

We threw him into the room and laughed at him as he skidded along the floor, his arms still tied behind his back. We taunted him, mocked him and prodded him with our feet. We slapped him in the face and pulled him around by the hair. The usual physical humiliation.

I must admit, though, that we were a bit rough with him. Most of us were a bit cranky because Friday afternoons are usually reserved for working out and team sports (some of us jogged and others played soccer and volleyball); and we still felt icky from not having washed ourselves. We all wanted to bathe; but the desire to have some raunchy good fun with this guy was too great. We were going to make him smell our feet before we even thought of cleaning ourselves.

And then we untied his arms. Perhaps he thought we were going to let him go; but we’d only just begun. We had to untie him to remove his clothes. Viv pushed him to the floor with one of her boots while the others threw themselves on top of him. Tracy deftly removed his dress shoes and socks, while Jocelyn, Angela and pinned him down to prevent him form squirming too much. He was threatening us, telling us that if we didn’t stop we’d be in big trouble. Gina just slapped him hard in the face, and I think that shut him up. “Shut up while we strip you.”

Pauline and Viv unclasped his pants and slid them down his legs while Gina tanked his shirt over his head. Viv made for his briefs and tugged at them, pulling them to his knees. He was tossing around so much, his cock was slapping his inner thighs. It was hilarious, watching him struggle to maintain his dignity after we’d pulled his pants down to his ankles.

We giggled amongst ourselves as we removed the clothing from his body. Angela and Pauline came over with the rope and, being adept at the art of tying up a man, tied his wrists together and ankles together in under a minute. We then dragged him by his feet over to the sofa and chairs and left him there as he squirmed to get free. It was hopeless; he was out of his league, and there was no way he was getting out of those restraints. We just chuckled to ourselves as we watched this naked man try to stand.

When he glared at us and ordered us to let him go, Gina took control of the situation. “You’re telling us what to do?” she asked him. She then pressed her sneakered foot over his face and pushed his head towards the floor. She then pressed her other foot over his chest in a gesture of triumph. “We’re in charge here; you’re in a female controlled building and we call the shots.”

”You’ll never guess why you’re here,” remarked Gina. The guy said nothing. “What would you think if I told you you’re going to smell our feet?”

The guy cocked an eyebrow. “Stop this.”

Gina called for the duct tape and one of us handed it to her. She then tore of a piece and roughly affixed it to his face. David moaned but to no avail. We just laughed at his predicament, contemplating what he was in for.

”And what if I told you our feet stink to high heaven?” added Gina with a chuckle. “You’re nose is going to spend an awful lot of time wedged between our stinky, sweaty toes. Why? because you’re a stinker.”

David must have finally believed her because he moaned insistently. He would have been begging us to stop this silly game. But we weren’t going to stop, not before we had some good, clean raunchy at his expense.

”So who’s first?” asked Gina.

Pauline, a tall, muscular woman who played volleyball and jogged on a pretty regular basis, stepped forward in her sweats and her ratty old sneakers. “I won the draw. He’ll do my smelly feet first.”

We cheered Pauline on as she took a seat near David’s head and clasped his head between her sneakered feet. Using his head to pry off one shoe and then the other, she lifted her size 10 feet up and pressed them onto his face. he groaned and struggled to push her feet off his face, but Viv slid her booted feet under the chair and held his head in place between them.

Boy, did Pauline’s sock feet stink. From the moment she pried of her shoes, we knew that David was going to have a rough time of it. It was great. He was exerting himself in his vain attempt to escape that he was exhausting himself; we could hear him take in sharp gasps of air and we knew how much that musty air must have stunk.

Once she had her fill of rubbing her rank sock feet over his face, she peeled off her socks and slid her dirty bare feet onto his face. They were solid feet, but most of us did have solid almost sculpted feet. Her feet must have been pretty sweaty because it looked like his face was glistening with sweat. Unless he was really sweating.

Pauline was enjoying this because she kept wriggling her toes, as if taunting him that she could rub her feet over his face and he could do nothing about it. She scrunched his nose between her toes and usually kept it there so he’d have to sniff the stinkiest part of her feet, the crease between her toes and the ball of her foot. “How’s the air down there, “I remember Pauline saying. We laughed at this. “You know, I’d usually be disgusted if my feet smelled this bad,” remarked Pauline. “But I’m enjoying this too much to care. “ She wriggled her sweaty toes over his face and brushed them up against his nostrils, as she ordered him to take great big greedy mouthfuls of the odor. He had no choice, and we heard each sniff. For added humiliation, she slapped his face a bit with her stinky feet and while clutching his nose with her toes, shook his head about roughly. She relished the freedom, as we would all do.

Most of us had been wearing sneakers; but half of us chose to wear the same sweat socks for days while others opted for wearing their sneakers without socks. I was one of the women who figured that wearing them without socks for days would really make for a powerful odor. And it did.

I was next. And I knew how smelly my feet were because I’d put on my sneakers that morning, and it was disgusting. My sneakers were moist from having worn them all day before, and the odor took me off guard. I remembered thinking how much fun it was going to be to inflict this on some guy.

And here I was, his head between my feet. I used one foot to pry off a shoe. My feet were warm and sore and I recall how relieved I felt to feel the cool air on my soles and toes. I wriggled my toes and then prepared to plant a foot on his face. I was excited.

Then I smelled it. It was potent and pungent; it was a foul smell and it was the smell of my unwashed, sweaty feet. I almost felt a bit embarrassed; but David’s look of fear and nausea thrilled me too much. I couldn’t resist.

I pressed my foot onto his face, letting his nose slip between my toes, and tightened my grip, the underside of my toes pressed against his nostrils. “Smell my stinky feet,” I ordered. I wriggled my toes a bit while I used his head to pry off my other sneaker. Another hot rush of odor.

I heard him moan and I knew he objected to the foul stench I was assaulting him with; and when he attempted to move his head away, Angela and Viv pressed his head in place with their dirty sneakers. I had too firm a grasp on his face with my toes for him to escape the smell, and, like he others, I just worked my sweaty, stinky unwashed feet into his face, paying special attention to his nose, of course.

And while others teased me about the stink, I reveled in the unbounded freedom I’d been presented with. I could rub my sweaty feet all over his face and rub my toes over his nose. When I told him to sniff, he did. But he didn’t have much choice.

And then I changed the position of the chair so I could have him sniff under my toenails. I wriggled my toes, just like Pauline, as if to tell him “look how much fun this is making you sniff my toes.”

Inspiration came and I grabbed one of my sneakers; I held it over his nose and made him smell it, just as I made you smell my sneakers. he was struggling with the stench, but he wasn’t going anywhere. he was breathing in nothing but the ripe stink of my running shoes and it was hilarious. This kind of raunchy humiliation was so easy and yet so fun. Degrading for him but exhilerating for us.

Noticing that my heels were slightly dirty, I figured I should have this guy clean our feet as well. So I yanked off the duct tape.

He howled with pain but before he could say anything, I pressed my sweaty foot onto his face and told him to start licking it clean. Others were applauding my fiendish ingenuity.

I had only to inform him that we’d be more than happy to kick him in the balls if he refused. The threat did the trick because when I pressed my dirty heel into his mouth, he began to lap at it with his tongue. “Suck on it,” I ordered. “I haven’t washed my feet in days and they’re dirty.” And he sucked on my heels.

I enjoyed the heel licking so much, I had him lick the oily sweat from the rest of my dirty, smelly feet. It was amusing watching him cringe at each taste of my sour, sweaty feet. And I compounded the humiliation by pressing the toes of one foot over his nose to be sniffed while he sucked on the thick, slightly calloused padding of the ball of my other foot.

I think I’d inspired the others to be more inventive because from then on, everyone got their feet licked and toes sucked. Those of us with ratty old sneakers made him sniff them; and more then several pair of crusty old seat socks were dropped onto his face and rubbed over his nose. We reveled in the opportunity to humiliate a man with our foot odor, and put him through his paces.

Viv, the only one of us wearing boots and not sneakers, then stepped forward to take her turn. “Do you like Parmesan Cheese,” I remember her asking David. “I hope so because my feet smell like Parmesan.” Her playful remarks elicited theatrical groans from the rest of us. And we cheered her on as she pried off her boots to reveal two reddened, moist looking size 10 1/2 feet and long, wriggly toes. She’d been wearing her boots without socks.

Within seconds I could smell the full onsluahgt of her ripe, stale, cheesy foot odor; I backed away, as we all did, but I was transfixed by the sight of Viv slapping her sweaty feet onto his face and sliding her toes over his nose and mouth. “Smell my feet,” she told him. We were all quite adept at telling him what to do, from licking our feet clean to eating the specks of dirt from between our toes to sniffing the odor from our toes.

”I think someone forgot to wear her odor eaters, “ remarked Tracy with a laugh. We all joined in he merriment.

Once Viv had her dirty calloused, sweaty feet licked all over, the rest took turns humiliating him with their foot odor and having him endure the tangy, bitter taste of their foot sweat. Jocelyn, Gina, Tracy and Angela each yanked off their running shoes and joyfully rubbed their foot sweat into David’s face. We laughed and enjoyed every minute of what must have been excrutiating stink torture for him. We knew just how malodorous our feet were, and what he must have stomached. ANd never was a revenge scene so fun as this one.

I remember when Angela took her turn, and boy did her feet smell; and they were big too: size 11. She curled her sweaty, grimy toes over his nose and then made the most hilarious remark. “I think someone’s got a nasty case of stinky toes on the nose,” she exclaimed with a chuckle. We all laughed at this. “Open your mouth,” she ordered. She slid the toes of her other foot inside and hen remarked; “And a nasty case of dirty toes in the mouth. Not much you can do, I’m afraid.” We were all laughing so hard it hurt. “They say it’s like cheese popcorn,” added Gina. Oh, we were having too much fun with this whole smelly foot torture.

Some of us plugged our noses with bits of tissue paper because the accumulated smell of our stinky feet was too much to bear. We were thorough, and I’m sure Stinkfoot would have been proud. And when we clothed him and dropped him off, blindfolded, back in the alley where we nabbed him, we knew we’d done a marvelous job. It was a most excellent revenge.

We didn’t hear from Miranda, but Charlene spoke with her to inform her of the amazing success of our mission. Apparently Miranda was pleased to hear the raunchy details, but she had no doubt that we’d give David an intense and humiliating experience. I wonder where she is now.

I only wish we had more assignments like that one. It’s been far to long since we’ve had a chance to humiliate a guy with our foot odor. Thank god you came along. I think we’ll make a concerted effort to do more forced foot smelling and licking from now on.

And so Jessie concluded her story, but not before reattaching an old sneaker to Simon’s face and wishing him a pleasant night. The stench of her rotting sneaker precluded the possibility of sweet dreams, but he did manage to sleep despite the odor.

In the morning, Jessie returned Simon to the Collective where she fed him fruit with her smelly feet. The girls who worked there had him rub their feet and suck on their toes, before he was placed in the waiting room for the clients who arrived in the afternoon.

Simon would be the first human foot rest; positioned under the sofa with only his head and shoulders visibly, his face next to a sign which read as follows: “Feel free to use this boy’s face to rest your tired feet.” And women were more than happy to do so; they needed no prompting. Women of all ages responded to the invitation with giggles and laughter, eagerly kicking off shoes to press warm, sweaty feet onto his face. Toes — some of them merely stale and sour smelling, and others sharp and cheesy — were clenched over his nose.

Simon had become the first foot boy, the first of several who would provide services as part of the Women’s Footrest, an offshoot of the Womanize Collective. At the footrest, women could have their feet worshipped and appreciated, no matter how smelly and dirty. It was a service which many of the regular clients took to quite readily; and sweaty foot worship would eventually become one of the most requested services.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. It’s Simon’s weekend which concerns us here. Poor SImon, who lay immobile most of the afternoon as woman after woman rubbed sock feet, stocking feet, bare feet in his face. They were strangers, women he’d walk by in the street. And yet here he was, his nose wedged between their sweaty toes. And they were highly amused.

Simon made no objections and sniffed when ordered to do so, licked when commanded. Toes were shoved up his nostrils and down his throat, but he said nothing. He merely earned the admiration of women like Jessie and Gina who were actually quite motherly to him (as long as he did as he was told).

And then the girls reminded him of that evening, of his assignment at the sorority house. The array of foot odor which awaited him would be the culmination of his extraordinarily bizarre and smelly weekend among the women of the Women’s Collective.


Six o’clock on Saturday evening approached and Gina, along with Andrea and Jessie, drove Simon from the Women’s Collective wherehouse, where he’d endured a steady onslaught of foot odor in the waiting room, to the Gamma Delta sorority house. They walked a nervous Simon to the front door. The sound of female shrieking and laughter unnerved him even more; and as accustomed as he’d become to the humiliations, he considered beating a hasty retreat.

A young woman — her name, Lauren — answered the door and peered out. She was about six feet tall, dressed in a basketball outfit, with hightops and no socks as far as Simon could tell. Her hair looked wet with sweat. She noticed Simon and grinned.

”Is this our gift,” asked Lauren with a sly tone of voice.

”He is,” answered Gina, “if you can assure us you girls have stinky feet.”

”Oh, rest assured, our feet stink,” remarked Lauren with a grin. “And we’ve invited some friends from the baseball, volleyball and basketball teams; their feet’ll stink too. So can we have him?”

Gina pushed Simon forward until Lauren grasped him by the arm. A few more girls — both of them strong, athletic girls who looked just as sweaty as Lauren — opened the door and smiled. They both graabbed hold of Simon, almost possessively.

One of them called inside with a loud, brash voice. “That guy’s here to smell our feet.” There were howls and catcalls from inside.

Simon froze with fear.

”Have fun,” laughed Gina as she and the others stepped away. “When you’re done, you can le him go. He’ll have earned some rest after this weekend. But with a little more training, we can make him into an excellent footboy. He’s a great foot licker and toe sniffer.”

”Great,” answered Lauren with a chuckle. “Thanks.”

Lauren and the others yanked Simon inside and slammed the door shut behind them.

There were about seven or so tall, healthy young women in the room, some of them watching t.v. and others just sitting down , chatting in groups. Most of them appeared to be dressed in sports gear — basketball, volleyball — and those that were looked as if they’d just returned from a lengthy run. Hair was tied back into ponytails and teeshirts clung to their sweaty bodies. Most were dressed in sweats or shorts, and wore athletic shoes on their feet.

”Welcome to Gamma Delta,” remarked Lauren as she pushed Simon inside. The girls turned to glance at Simon, and a few greeted him with whistled and hoots.

”And the stinkiest feet on campus,” quipped a girl in baseball gear by the name of Sue. The young women laughed, but most of them appeared to be too engrossed in some activity or other to pay much attention to him. They continued to watch t.v. and talk amongst themselves as if he weren’t even there.

”Oh, my God,” remarked one of the girls sitting at a dining table. “You’re in my psych class.”

Simon blushed. Simon recognized her.

”Yeah, I know you,” interjected someone else. “I’ve seen you on campus.” She beamed with recognition.

The other girls turned their interest once again to Simon, now that he’d been spotted as a fellow student. Some stood up and approached him.

”Lauren spoke up. “This’ll be a first. We haven’t had a fellow classman do our sweaty feet. What a trip.”

”The first girl stepped before him. “Hi I’m Allison,” she declared as she looked him over. “Not bad,” she said sizing him up.

”Pretty cute,” added someone else, as everyone giggled. Sue pulled up his shirt and peered underneath. “I can’t wait to see what you look like under all those clothes.”

”I can’t get over this,” said Allison to the others. “This guy’s in my class and I’m going to rub my smelly feet in his face.” Allison then turned once again to Simon. “I won’t be able to think of you the same way. Not just another guy, but a guy who sniffed and licked raunchy Gamma Delta feet.”

The girls began to feel him him, some of them grabbing his ass and others sliding their hands over his legs and chest. Simon was still crimson with embarrassment.

Lauren then turned to Simon and grinned. “Look how much he’s blushing.”

The others tittered. “You would too if you were him if you knew what you were in for,” explained Katie, the girl Charlene had spoken to the other day. Katie looked Simon in the eye. “You do know what you’re in for, right?” Simon gulped, audibly; and the girls laughed hysterically. “I guess you do.”

”But perhaps we’ll let you off the hook,” said Katie.

”What are you doing?” replied a girl by the name of Amy. “We’ve planned this. And I didn’t get my feet all sweaty for nothing, you know.”

”I feel bad, since he’s a classmate and all. Everytime he sees one of us, we’ll probably tease him about it. He’ll never be able to forget it. Unless it doesn’t matter to him and he’s willing to be our footboy on a more regular basis.” Everyone laughed at the presumptuous suggestion.

Katie turned to Simon. “If you can do what we can do, you’re free to leave.” Simon pondered this. Could there be a catch? But it didn’t matter. It was a chance worth taking. “If not, we’re going to have some fun with you, understood?” Perhaps no good could come of this at all.

At that moment, Katie put one foot in front of the other and lowered her body to the floor whereupon she opened her legs, forming a perfect 180 degree angle. But it was one thing for a woman to perform such a feat, it was another for a man. But Simon was going to give it his best. The others applauded, laughing now that they knew what Katie had in mind.

He ignored the mocking laughter and sat down. He then opened his legs as far as they could go, straining with every muscle; but all he could muster was a 150 degree angle. The girls giggled at his evident effort.

Katie leaped to a standing position and laughed heartily. “Alright, footboy. I’ll give you another chance or it’s stinky foot time.” With that said, Katie promptly performed a cartwheel and then with a flourish, she performed a back flip, much to the amusement and applause of the women present.

Simon had never done a cartwheel before, let alone a back flip. But he was sure as hell going to try. He didn’t relish the though of spending another evening with stinky feet rubbed in his face; nor did he relish the thought of how much he’d be teased by these women in the future. So he prepared himself and threw himself into a routine.

But Simon overestimated the distance and his feet hit a nearby desk, throwing his balance off. He fell to the floor, knocking over the garbage can with a crash.

The girls crowded about him, giggling and grinning at his ill-fated attempt at dignity. Katie then stood before him, arms at her side. “I guess you know what you’ll be doing tonight. I hope you like really stinky feet.”

Just as Simon attempted to stand, the girls grabbed him by his feet and began to haul him along the carpeted floor. “Others grabbed hold of his arms which were trailing behind him.

”Can we take his clothes off,” asked Kristen. “Just like it is at the Collective.”

”Definitely,” replied Lauren. “Let’s strip him.” And the girls eagerly undertook the task of denuding poor Simon. Amidst girlish giggles, Simon could hear his shoes fall to the floor, and his trouser zipper undone. Some of the girls were singing the Stripper Song and whistling as his pants were yanked off of him. If he was embarrassed before, he was even more so now. He could feel his entire body blush as the girls pulled his clothes off.

”And his shorts,” asked Kristen. “I’m curious.”

”As we all are,” replied Lauren. “Go ahead.” And with that said, Kristen grabbed hold of his shorts, and slid them down his legs and off his feet. She waved his shorts in the air as the girls stood about him and smiled. “I still can’t believe you’re in my class,” added Allison. “But you’ve got a nice body,” she added.

”Oh baby,” remarked Sue.

”And then Lauren pressed a sneaker-covered foot onto his chest , pushing him to the floor. “Now you’re here to serve us. And if you do a good job, you might just get your clothes back. We want quality service. So we’ll expect you to smell our feet as if there were no more pleasing smell than the odor of our feet. You’re going to lick our feet as if there’s nothing you’d rather taste than our dirty, sweaty feet. And you’re going to rub our feet and suck on our toes with every attempt at making us feel good.”

Lauren continued. “In short, we expect total foot worship. We want enthusiasm and we want skill. We will know half-hearted sniffs, so if you our feet stink, too bad. We know they stink and we don’t care. And if you think our feet are dirty, too bad; because you’re going to be licking everyone’s feet. and you’re going to lick them clean. We’ve been on our feet all day and our stinky feet could use a little t.l.c. So do as you’re told and there should be no problem is. And, remember, service with a smile. Is that understood?”

Simon gazed at the women and knew that they were completely serious about the foot worship. What choice did he have? he resolved to get it over with. And with a nod, he agreed to Lauren’s terms.

“You’ve come t a convenient time because we’re doing a study,” resumed Lauren. “A biological study. On human foot odor. And you’re going to help us out. You smell our feet and give us a little feedback on the odors. But we need one person to smell everyone’s feet so we don’t have too many variables. This is a great day for science.”

The women were in stitches; and they were clearly having a considerable amount of fun at his expense. They continued to hold him tight; but Simon elected not to put up a fight. The women at the Collective had already taken the fight out of him.

Lauren then grabbed a chair and set it just to the side of Simon. She then grabbed her hightop by the heel and pulled it off, revealing a sweaty size 10 1/2 foot. She’d been wearing her hightops without socks; and by the potency of the immediate odor, she’d likely been wearing them without socks for some time. It was the smell of pungent sneakers and sour-smelling feet. And as Lauren removed her other shoe, the scent became all the more potent.

With her feet still moist and warm from having been in her sneakers, Lauren placed the sole of her right foot overtop Simon’s face, clutching at his nose with her sweaty toes.

“One small step for woman,” remarked Lauren as she curled her stinky toes over his nose, “and one great leap for womankind.”

The others laughed at the witticism.

“Now I want you to smell my feet. And I know they stink, I can smell them from here.” Having said that, Lauren pressed the toes of one foot against his nostrils, even going so far as to thrust a couple of toes into his nostrils for a few seconds. “Show me what an eager foot sniffer you are.” She took her other foot and began to slide it over Simon’s face; and when she wasn’t forcing him to sniff one set of toes, she has the other set of toes pressed against his nose.

The heady, gamy stench of her toes was foul; and that she so freely rubbed her unwashed, sporty feet over his face was especially degrading. He struggled, instinctively repulsed by the odor, but the girls were holding him too tight.

“Are you going to do as you’re told, or are we going to have to tie you up?” asked Lauren. Simon, realizing that struggle was futile, agreed to do what he was told. The girls, hesitant at first, let go of his arms and legs, but they remained close by, should Simon attempt to get away. He figured that good behavior might make things easier for him.

Simon controlled his repulsion as the girls watched Lauren’s treatment of him with lewd remarks and giggles. She slide her toes under his nostrils, compelling him to sniff each of her dirty, cheesy toes; wriggling them playfully as she slid them over his nose. “I just love getting my toes sniffed after a long day on my feet. Oh, I deserve this.”

”Pretty pungent, huh?” asked Lauren as she pushed the ball of her right foot against his nostrils and wriggling her toes some more. It looked as if the nails had been painted weeks before, but the paint job had chipped considerably. Lauren didn’t take great care of her feet; but they were soft and smooth, presumably because her feet spent so much time sweating in her sneakers.

Within minutes, the other girls stepped away ether to resume their studies or to talk amongst themselves. A few of them remained to watch Lauren humiliate Simon with her ripe feet. “It smells like the locker room,” remarked Allison with a smile, her sneakered foot resting against Simon’s head. Along with the odor of Lauren’s sweaty feet, Simon could detect the unmistakable stench of Allison’s ratty running sneakers. And it was a warning of things to come.

Now clean my feet,” ordered Lauren quite suddenly. She pulled her feet away from his face. “Well, sit up then.” Simon did just that; and when Lauren offered him one of her feet, the soles slightly darkened from walking around barefoot, he took it in his hands. He gazed at it, at the large size and at the long toes which she kept in constant motion. He could still smell the sour stench of her gym feet; but Lauren was in no mood to waste time.

She pressed her foot up to his mouth, with two of her toes pressed up inside his nostrils. “I want a really good foot lick. Lots of tongue.” Simon, eyes closed, extended his tongue , and began to lick the bitter sweat form her dirty heel, and scraping at the hardened kin with his teeth. Making use of the skills he’d been tough since Friday, he proceeded to polish her dirty, stinky feet with his tongue; and he mustered as much enthusiasm as possible.

Lauren was pleased. “At this rate, I don’t think I’ll want to let you go. You’re going to make lots of smelly feet, happy feet tonight.”

Allison and Kristen, still sitting with Lauren, laughed at the remark. “I can’t wait for my turn,” said Kristen. “I’d love to see what he does with my raunchy-smelling feet. Let me know when you’re done with him. I could really use a foot rub.” Kristen tapped Simon’s naked torso with her running shoe before walking away.

And then the doorbell rang. “It must be Stephanie and the others,” declared Allison as she leaped to her feet. Simon attempted to turn his face to see who it might be, but Lauren was sliding her other foot over his face while he licked between her toes and scraped at the ball of her foot with his teeth. His entire world was Lauren’s pungent, unwashed feet; he could see nothing else.

There were girlish squeals. “He’s naked,” remarked a high-pitched female voice. There were giggles. “Stephanie brought a few of her friends,” said Allison to Lauren.

”Are they here to get their toes sucked or sniffed?” asked Lauren as she enjoyed he attention Simon was lavishing upon her toes.

One of the new girls spoke up. “He smells feet too? Ooh, but my feet stink. Maybe a foot rub.”

”Would you like to have him sniff your toes too?”replied Lauren.

”Yea, but they smell bad.”

”Well, if you want them sniffed, you should get them sniffed. He’s our footboy and he does what he’s told. Why do you think we go to such trouble to get our feet stinky. It’s more fun to force a guy to worship them when they stink to high heaven.”

Some of the girls laughed at this; and they all appeared to be in agreement.

”Alright,” responded the girl. “But don’t blame me if they stink.”

”Hey, my feet stink, and I don’t care,” said Katie. “And I’m going to get some first-rate foot worship, and have him sniff my stinky sweat socks too.” Katie giggled as did the others.

But this was only the early evening; and over the next several hours, women came and went. At times, there were about fifteen women present, most of them members of the sorority, and some of them friends. They came to have their feet serviced. And the girls wanted different things. Some of the girls liked to humiliate Simon with their foot odor. Others wanted to feel his tongue slide over their sweaty feet. Some wanted their toes sucked and others wanted their feet rubbed. Many just wanted the freedom of rubbing their feet all over his face, and using his face as a foot rest. As Katie would later inform Simon, “This is our evening. For us. It’s when the girls get to have a little fun, smelly feet or no smelly feet. It’s just good fun.”

Meanwhile, the new arrivals approached Lauren and Simon, as Simon slid his tongue between Lauren’s gamy toes which reeked of old sweat socks.

“See,” remarked Lauren with a blissful look on her face. “This is service. I wish I could always get this kind of treatment after a basketball game.”

‘Good game, by the way,” added Stephanie with a smile. “Wait a minute,” she added s she studied Simon. “I’ve seen this guy ’round campus. Woah. And he’s got your nasty-smelling feet in his face.” Stephanie chuckled to herself. “When do I get a turn.”

“After me,” interjected Allison. “I’m going to have him smell my toes for a bit and then get an excellent total foot lick. Track practice was grueling and my feet hurt.” “As soon as I’m done,” replied Lauren.

Once Lauren felt confident that Simon had thoroughly licked every inch of her sweaty feet, she ordered him to suck on her long, sweaty toes.

“Oh, he’s great.” moaned Lauren as she stretched in her seat and flexed her toes. “He knows how to use his mouth. And he smelled my feet real good even though they were incredibly stinky.”

Allison laughed. “You could say that again. What do you expect when you don’t wear socks?”

“I just wish we could have this all the time. Have a live-in footboy who’d always worship our feet. no matter how stinky. Get our toes sucked after a game. We could save money by not having to go the Collective for this.”

Lauren then turned to Simon. “What would it take to persuade you to do this all the time.” The girls laughed. “Like he’d willingly spend hours getting smelly feet rubbed in his face,” said Allison.”especially our feet. How degrading.”

“But you’d love humiliating him, right?” replied Lauren.

“Of course,” said Allison with a chuckle. The new arrivals followed suit.

“So how ’bout you servicing our feet on a more regular basis?” asked Lauren of Simon.

But Lauren has only just shoved the toes of her right foot into his mouth. He could say nothing.

“Being an athletic sorority, we do lots of sports; and that means we place high demands on our feet. We’re such athletic goddesses because out feet get us though many a game. You may not be able to help us with foot odor; that’s par for the course. But you can always make our feet feel good. So what do you say? ”

Simon, his mouth still full of sweaty toes, grunted a response.

“Is that a yes?’

Simon shook his head.

“Well, just think about it.” And Lauren yanked her toes free of Simon’s mouth. The vinegary, cheesy taste still lingered on his tongue.

‘My turn,” yelped Allison as she sprung from the floor. Taking Lauren’s place in the chair, she gazed at Simon, who lay naked at her feet.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Take off my sneaks and start smelling my sock feet.” She then extended a size 9 foot.

When Simon pried the shoe from off her foot, his nose was assaulted by a hot rush of putrid foot odor. Without warning, she then pressed her warm sock foot onto his face and rubbed it all over, clutching at his toes with her sock toes. Simon, as was expected of him, withstood the degrading treatment, despite the laughter coming from those watching.

“I just love doing this. ”

“You’re feet stink,” giggled Louise, a girl from the basketball team.

“I know,” she replied. Turning to Simon, she raised her voice. “Smell them good. And don’t wrinkle your nose.”

He took a deep breathe, thoroughly disgusted by the ripe odor of overly worn, dirty sweat socks. “Now take off the other shoe.” he did so and she immediately began to rub both of her socks feet over his face, and cupping her sock toes over his nose.

After having Simon remove her sweat socks with his teeth, She commenced to rub her sweaty soles over his face and pressed her cheesy toes up under his nostrils. Satisfied that he’d taken in her noxious foot odor, she leaned back and ordered him to give her feet the royal treatment using only his tongue. And so he licked every inch of her soiled feet and sucked on her toes “good and slow” (just as she requested of him).

And thus began an evening which, for Simon, never seemed to end. Girls who’d come only for footrubs were too intrigued by the idea of getting their stinky toes sniffed to be content with less. Lauren and Allison had set the example; and so when Stephanie took her turn, she expressly ordered him to “take big whiffs” before peeling off her baseball socks, working her stinking feet into his face and treating herself to the licking and sucking which was making him very popular.

And so Katie and the others — Louise, Amy, Sue, Kristen — returned from their other activities to occupy the fun seat, as it was called. Pairs of pungent, rip, unwashed feet were rubbed in his face, and a plethora of raunchy foot odors were inflicted upon him. The basketball players got their big sweaty feet sniffed and licked, as did the runners, volleyball players and baseball players. Sneakers, often worn without socks, were held over his face to sniff; and dirty, crusty sweat socks were ground into his face with stinky feet.

And Simon tirelessly gave them the best foot licking and toe sucking he could muster. So it came as no surprise that some of the girls came over for seconds, or that they called more friends to come over and treat their feet.

Girls came and went; at times, two or three of them would be rubbing their raunchy-stinky feet in his face at the same time. He’d have one girl’s sweaty toes wriggling in his mouth, while another would curl her cheesy toes over his nostrils to sniff. Feet were rubbed all over his body, over his legs, arms, chest. Girls stepped on him and rested their bare feet and dirty socks feet over his face as if it were a foot rest.

They used him freely and casually, as if there were nothing odd about getting their feet licked and sniffed. For the most part, they acted as if he weren’t even there. Apart from the occasional “smell my stinky feet,” or “lick the sweat off,” the girls talked amongst themselves about classes, guys and campus life.

Only until most of the girls either left or retired to bed, did the focus of the evening return to him. Katie, Lauren and Sue were still awake, and the three of them had at least one foot on his face. Katie and Lauren pressed cheesy toes against his nose while Lauren was getting her toes sucked for the upteenth time.

Then Lauren spoke. “I do hope you come back. You’re always welcome here. Hopefully, we can give you some incentive to come back,” said Katie as she grazed her fingers over his balls and grabbed hold of his hard cock. It was the first time that evening anyone had touched his privates with anything other than a foot. Perhaps that was because, for the first time, he had a hard on; as if the experience were no longer degrading but deeply erotic and sensual.

“Just promise us you’ll come back and do our feet.” said Katie as she affectionately squeezed his nose with her pungent toes. It’s nice to have someone get into our feet when they stink. Please tell us you wouldn’t say no to doing this again.”

Lauren removed her foot from his mouth to allow him a few words. “I wouldn’t say no,” uttering his first words that evening.

The girls laughed. Lauren returned her toes into his mouth while Katie and Sue began to rub their feet over his manly parts. And that evening, the girls stayed up all night pleasing him as much as he pleased them.

It should come as no surprise that Simon returned to the sorority of his own accord. Though the women at the Women’s Collective were as anxious for his full-time services as were the sorority girls. Rumor has it that the girls at the Women’s Collective kidnapped him to humiliate him with their stinky feet once again. Once I discover what has happened to him since, perhaps it might be food for another story.


This story is taken from:

Special thanks to: Byron



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