As a graduate student in a new city, I thought it would be best to apply for university housing. It was off-campus so at least we were away from the chaos of undergrad life. I was in an apartment meant for two but my original roommate moved out pretty early on in the lease. Thankfully, I had a fixed rate so I basically got the unit to myself for the same price. I knew they would fill it eventually and that’s how Thomas came to rule my life.

    Thomas was nice, in his mid twenties I’d say. He was tall and had an athletic, muscly build. Short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He carried himself with authority but certainly wasn’t an asshole off the bat. As a closeted gay, I was happy to have gotten at least an attractive roommate to sneak looks at from time to time, but I definitely wouldn’t try anything on this obviously straight man.

    In general, the rooming situation was fine. He was a bit messy but cleaned up after himself if given enough time. He was funny too and we hung out frequently. I noticed that he could be a little domineering at times, usually with some nobody who made his life a bit more difficult. He just had this way of making them back down and getting what he wanted. It made my stomach flutter when he completely owned some jackass. He wasn’t especially dominant with me but there were certainly moments when I new he meant business in an argument and I capitulated so he wouldn’t get too heated.

    He also loved my cooking. Whenever I made food he would stroll into the kitchen and tell me how good it smelled and hinted that he wanted some. I usually gave him some and in time I bought more food out of anticipation of him poking into my dinner. Whenever he complimented my meals I felt so good about myself and proud. He had a way of making you feel so valued that I loved about him.

    I also noticed that he seemed to always have cash but never went to work. I don’t even think he had a job. He would say “it’s complicated” whenever I asked, but he just went to class, worked out, and lounged around when he was home. I figured he must be from a rich family but I never confirmed it.

    One day, I was wading my way through a long stretch of Thursday classes when I got the glorious news that my last class had been cancelled. I made it home an extra couple of hours early because there was nothing to do on campus.

    When I walked through the door I saw my roommate sitting on the couch with his shirt off (and rock hard abs on full display) and his bare feet up on the coffee table. One arm was positioned very dominantly exposing his armpit. I also saw his phone set up with a perfect head-on view of it all. Thomas put his arms down and looked a little embarrassed, certainly surprised that I was home early.

    “What are you doing,” I asked with a blend of interest and judgement. He hesitated before responding, “Hey roommie, I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

    I followed up with, “Dude, are you selling feet pics?”

    He chucked a bit and said, “Well, sort of. It’s a little hard to explain.” As he said this I put my stuff on the kitchen counter. “I run a Twitter account where I kind of get paid by random people to like show my feet and muscles and stuff. I can be a little aggressive with my followers, but they can’t get enough of it,” he said with a devilish grin.

    I was very confused. I might have been gay but I wasn’t very kinky. I mean I had never had sex and was scared to watch any hardcore porn, so I jerked off here and there to basic male on male stuff. I didn’t have much interest in feet, but I will say Thomas did have a nice pair. Hell, if I didn’t get to see them for free almost everyday I might even buy some pics they were that nice (especially with how attractive the rest of him was). I tried to process the idea that my roommate sold foot pics. But why?

    “Wait so like people give you money and you just send them pictures of your feet?” I asked looking for a little more information. More out my own interest than with actual clarification.

    “Yes and no. It’s called findom, and essentially I run a page and people, called subs, give me money because they think I’m better than them and deserve their cash. I post pics of me working out and my feet because that really turns them on. It’s pretty pathetic but it pays the bills. Well strictly speaking I have boys who do that for me, but you know what I mean.”

    “Do you make a lot?” I asked out of genuine curiosity.

    “Oh yeah, I made almost 100 grand last year,” he said rather nonchalantly.

    My draw dropped. 100 grand! I’m working as an intern at some accounting firm in the city and barely making 30k. He sits around taking photos of his feet and made that much. This guy was smarter than I thought. “Why are you living here if you’re making that much?”

    “Well, in truth, my parents don’t know I do this and I’ve kind of been saving up for a big place. But I’m glad you know now, you can help me film for the page because it’s hard to make videos by myself. I might throw you some profits too.”

    He said this so casually, like it was natural that I would start helping him with his foot fetish empire. Of course I would, if only out of fascination. I didn’t really need the cash though and I would feel weird about taking it from random foot freaks obsessed with my roommate.

    I shrugged my shoulders indicating that I didn’t have a problem with it and he smiled. “Great, we can film a vid right now, haven’t done one in a few days. Grab my phone and shoot it from behind the coffee table.”

    I walked over to his propped-up phone while he put his feet back on the table and got into character. “Oh just so you know I can talk really harsh. These gay boys get so turned on by straight guys talking down to them and humiliating them. So don’t get freaked out. Also you need to get the phone lower so that my feet are right in front of the camera, and tilt it up a bit so it looks like their looking up at me, their cash Master.”

    “Cash Master?” I said with the most derisive look and he just chuckled.

    “Yeah that’s what we’re called, my subs call me Sir and everything. It’s fucking crazy how pathetic these losers are.”

    His rhetoric was getting nastier by the minute but I was along for the ride and so I knelt down and held the phone just as he wanted it with his bare soles right in front of me.

    “Hey betas,” he started off with a deep masculine voice. “Alpha Tom here with a message for you boys. I was at the gym today and worked up quite a sweat.” He sniffed his armpit as he said this and let out a “pfew” suggesting they smelled bad. “Don’t you just wish you were here to clean my pits and my sweaty soles clean? But you don’t get that honor without paying up. Remember who owns you bitches. Taxes are due tomorrow and I don’t want to have to remind you. Now get on your knees and serve your Master.”

    I stopped recording and he smiled, asking how it looked. I was still in awe of what I just watched. He took it so seriously and exuded so much power in the video. I was kind of frightened by how dominant he could be but also a little turned on by it. I just couldn’t help the feeling that he was talking to me during all of it.

    I gave him back his phone and said I had some work to do and went straight to my room. I laid on my bed for the rest of the evening trying to distract myself from whatever it was I felt earlier and of course didn’t get an ounce of work done.

    The next day, I was only more curious about Thomas’s whole Cash Master situation and did some digging online for an “Alpha Tom.” There were tons of them, mostly unattractive middle aged guys with beards and a lot of body hair but I eventually found my roommate’s page and started scrolling. He had thousands of followers and his header and profile pic were pictures of him showing off his smooth soles. His bio read:

    Alpha Tom | Dominant, Cash Master💸, Foot King🦶🏻, Key Master 🔐| I expect obedience and respect from all subs | Submit and serve your God faggots

    He also had the handles to his only fans and a few money transfer apps on their too.

    As I scrolled looking at his photos, reading his degrading tweets demanding money from “worthless subs” and watched a few of his videos of him calling the viewer a faggot while he flexed his muscles and showed off his feet, I was transfixed by it all. I couldn’t explain the weird attraction I had to the page and to him. He just felt so powerful and I could almost understand why these people worshiped him.

    At the same time I was a little freaked out by his demeanor. It was so aggressive, and as a gay guy, I didn’t like that he called people fags and terrible names, no matter how weird their fetishes were.

    And here I vacillated for a bit, between how wrong and inappropriate he was and remarking on his compelling attitude and dominance. All the while I scrolled through his page reading posts about gifts that his subs had sent him, and looking at pictures of him holding dirty shoes that a “faggot” needed to lick clean for him. He also talked a lot about the “fag taxes” he deserved for being a “straight alpha superior.” He had mentioned them during the video I took of him but I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even ask what he meant. No matter, his Twitter page made that very clear announcing every week that taxes were due on Friday and that he would not tolerate disobedient bitches who don’t want to pay him what they owe. The thought that he could order people to pay him for just being him and that they would do it blew my mind, and very much to my surprise I blew a load too. Without touching myself and just from photos and videos of his body and his arrogant voice, I creamed my jeans for my roommate. Was I just as pathetic as those fags he takes money from? I went right to bed, not wanting to deal with whatever the fuck just happened.

    He didn’t say anything about his findom empire for a few days after I shot the video and I was way too embarrassed to bring it up having sunk down the rabbit hole that was his Twitter account. I even felt myself avoiding eye contact with him and keeping my head down when he was around. I mean I couldn’t look him in the eye after cumming to him humiliating “beta subs” and his perfect body. Every time I thought about it my dick grew a little and I got so anxious.

    Thomas came home from the gym a few days later and asked if I could help him make another video. I was busy cooking and I was still so ashamed of myself for what I had done that I kind of mumbled out an answer which he took to mean yes. “Great, thank you! Whatcha cooking?” I muttered that I was making some chicken Alfredo which made him rub his stomach with a “yum. I haven’t eaten all day.”

    “Um, well, I-I made more than I can eat so y-you can have some too if you want.” He smiled like I made his day and it relaxed me a bit.

    “Thanks man. You’re such a great roommate,” he said with a ruffle of my hair. His approval made me feel really good and my comfort returned.

    “So what’s this video about?” I asked.

    “Oh, well that’s a long story and you’ll probably think it’s weird.”

    I was certainly intrigued now. “Tell me, how bad could it be?” I said trying to play it cool. I didn’t want him to think I was eager to know more, but I really was.

    “Alright, but promise not to judge me or anything.”


    “So I’ve got this sub of mine who’s been really dedicated to me and he’s probably given me like 25k in cash at this point. Well today has been 1 year since he’s started serving me so I’ve gotten him a cake that I’m gonna stomp on. He’ll fucking love it.”

    Seemed reasonable to me (and a little hot), I guess that’s the sort of thing that gets people going. Maybe me too, am I one of them? I cast the thought aside and finished the Alfredo. We ate together and he remarked on how good it was and devoured the garlic bread. I was truly glad that he enjoyed it.

    After I cleaned up—he was never much help there—we got started on the video. He put the small cake on the floor that had “Congrats on 1 year Evan” written in icing with a little drawing of a foot. I was on my knees again but more out of instinct seeing as he didn’t tell me to. “Hey bitch boy Evan, congrats on being my little atm for a full year. You put $25,000 in my pockets because you know your place and you know it belonged to me anyway. Obviously, with the year to come, I expect even better service. So I won’t be happy until I take $30,000 of MY cash from your pathetic wallet. You’re gonna be working extra overtime for me and I want every penny of it to go to your Master. As a reward I’ve put some of my dirty gym socks in the mail for you and I’ve got another little treat right here.”

    With that I panned the camera to the cake on the ground and watched with amazement and more than a little arousal as he crushed the cake with his bare feet, sending frosting shooting between his toes. After a few seconds he lifted his feet up and showed the soles covered in white frosting. “Oh I bet you’d love to eat this cake off your God’s feet, huh. Maybe next year, faggot.” He ended with a flash of his middle finger pointed at the camera and I stopped the video.

    “Thanks a lot bro, can you get me some paper towels to clean my feet.” I ran up to get some, trying to hide my semi.

    When I returned he started scraping the frosting off his soles and from between his toes. “Kind of a waste of a cake,” I said with a smirk.

    “Well, feel free to eat it, but I doubt it will taste any good.” I didn’t mean to suggest that I wanted some but him telling me to eat the cake that he just stomped into the floor with his feet sent a shiver down my spine. “Hey, can you actually clean this off the floor for me. I really need to take a shower and get started on some work. I’ll owe you!”

    I agreed and he ran off to take a shower. I started wiping the frosting and crushed cake crumbs off the ground, but couldn’t help myself from taking a swipe of it to taste. It just tasted like cake, surely the parts on his feet tasted different. Jesus, why was I thinking about this and why the hell did I just lick some frosting up to see if it tasted like his sweaty gym feet. I finished up cleaning and went into my room. I lied in bed scrolling through his findom page again. He had made quite a few updates since the last time I looked. I started touching myself and this time had an even stronger orgasm. Fuck, I am a pathetic little bitch. What am I going to do?

    The next few days, I cooked like usual, always saving some for Thomas. I also found myself taking more initiative on chores, vacuuming, scrubbing the bathroom, washing the dishes (even his that he left in the sink). I also saw he started leaving some of his shoes around the living room and entry way. Or maybe they were always there and I just never cared to notice them. But for some reason I found myself attracted to them. He had a few pairs of sneakers and a pair of flip flops scattered about. I was curious to know what they smelled like. Truth be told, I had never sniffed my roommates socks or shoes so I had no idea how they smelled.

    I knew he wasn’t home yet so I walked over to one of his beat up pairs of going-out shoes, the kind he wears to hit the bars and pick up chicks. He was an animal and had a different girl over seemingly every weekend. He was usually quiet but sometimes I could here him power fucking some bimbo. I bet these sneaks would be ripe with all the sweating he does at the bars, dancing and drinking. I brought the opening of one up to my nose and took a deep breath. My god were they raunchy. I never realized how much his feet must stink because they were pungent. I took a few more sniffs and I liked it. I slipped my tongue out and made contact with the insole where his heel rested and I immediately tasted the bitter dirt and salty sweat. Like the smell, I was shocked but it felt good, it felt right. I knocked myself out of a trance, reflecting on how pathetic I was sniffing and licking the inside of my roommates shoe. I put it down and went to do some work ignoring everything I had just done.

    That night though, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned thinking about Thomas’ foot sweat and the smell of his shoe. I thought about his dominant tone in the videos I had watched, of the way he stomped that cake with his feet, god it was so hot. I grabbed my phone and meandered back to his Twitter page. I was scrolling again catching up on whatever I missed: just some retweet games and a few demands for certain people to send him x amount or reimburse his lunch. I thought about how I understood the dominance aspect of it and even the photos of his body and feet, but I didn’t really get the money part.

    Would I kiss his feet if he told me too? Sure. But what was the appeal of sending him money? I thought a bit and decided, there was no harm in trying it out and seeing what happened.

    I quickly made a fake Twitter account. I hooked up my credit card to the account so I didn’t have to Cashapp him and risk him finding out it was me. I went back to his page and dm’ed him a short, “Hi Sir 🙏” thinking that would get his attention, though he might be asleep. Alas, he was awake and responded quickly.

    AT: What’s up bitch?

    AT: Tribute if you want to talk to me you know how this goes

    ME: Yes Sir, I’m sorry.

    ME: Sent! (It was only $10 but I didn’t know how much to do)

    AT: Good boy. Now double it.

    AT: How long have you been lurking for?

    At this point I was scared. I didn’t really want him asking questions and I didn’t want to keep sending him my money. I didn’t get any rush from it but I was at least satisfied that he got it instead of me just wasting it on myself.

    AT: Hello? I gave you an order, faggot.

    AT: Triple it this time.

    I panicked and immediately deleted the account. God I was such an idiot. I put my phone on my desk and tried to get some sleep. But of course I was thinking about my roommate in the next room cursing the faggot that ghosted him, and I felt sick.

    For the next week I was extra considerate, and went far out of my way to make up for being a lousy, good-for-nothing and teasing Thomas so unforgivably. I cooked extra special meals, his favorites, I cleaned the whole apartment, I even offered to do his laundry since “I only had a few things and didn’t want to waste the water.” A stupid excuse since the machine had load settings. At one point he jokingly remarked that I could clean his room too since I was on such a mission. I needed no other invitation.

    I went into his room for probably the first time since he moved in. It wasn’t terribly messy but definitely less neat than mine. He had some dirty clothes lying around, his bed was unmade and desk disorganized. I spent about an hour getting everything right as rain and of course took generous sniffs of his socks and underwear. I even stole a pair of his workout socks, stale with sweat, for later. I felt guilty about taking advantage of him, but I couldn’t control my desperation for his scent.

    When I finished folding and putting away his laundry, and told him everything was straight he gave me a superior smirk and a gracious thanks. I asked if there was anything else I could do, certainly sounding like the bitch I was and as luck would have it, he did have further use for me. The term “use” as I employ it here is of real accuracy because nowadays I just feel like a tool that provides use for him. And I like it.

    He said he needed me to film another video for him, and that this one might freak me out a little. I doubted it but he told me to just film and not interrupt him (rather authoritatively too). I took the phone, and my position on my knees before his godly propped up feet. He was laid back on the couch which curled his washboard abs connecting his good-looking face and impressive chest to his strong stretched out thighs and legs. This man really was an alpha. He held in his hand a small metal contraption, one that I had never seen before, and twirled it in his fingers. I started rolling.

    “Well well well, you lucky fags. I have here in my hand a cage that’s going on one of your puny little dicks. One of my faithful chastity subs is no longer in my stable of dickless cucks which means there’s an opening for one of you homos. The rules are simple. I send you this cage, you put it on, and I control when you get an orgasm from that pathetic clit of yours. Well, more like if you get an orgasm (hehehe). The competition is sure to be tough but I will be rewarding the boy who impresses me the most with my gift of total control. You know in your heart that fags like you don’t deserve to cum without my permission. The competition starts now and everything you do will affect who I decide gets locked up. Good luck, and get to serving.”

    I was rock hard having watched him in real time announce plans to take control of someone’s dick. Like before though, it felt like he was speaking directly to me, like he might slap that cage on me and rule my life with an iron grip. I didn’t even know this was a thing, that people could sacrifice their orgasms for their Masters. That is the ultimate devotion. I sat their thinking about how much I wanted that. Even though it made no sense to me, being hard at the idea of suppressing my sexual arousal, I somehow knew that I needed it. I needed Thomas, excuse me Master Thomas, to take my dick from me and lock it up. To control me absolutely so I could better serve him. He is an Alpha Man, I am faggot, I belong under his thumb and beneath his feet…

    “Hello…What’re you thinking about?” Thomas interrupted me. I realized I had just been sitting there brain dead thinking about all of this, staring at his beautiful soles and I got myself together and handed him his phone back. I couldn’t even look at his face, I had to keep my inferior glare to his feet. “I know it’s pretty fucking weird, and sorry i didn’t really give you enough warning but some of these queers just love being sexually denied and it, urrgh, I feel so powerful denying them the ability to even touch their tiny dicks while I beat off and fuck girls whenever I want. You know what I mean?” I kept staring at his soles and I then I felt the uncontrollable urge to touch his godly feet. To just reach out and feel his soft warm soles in my hands.

    “You like how those feet feel, boy?” he asked so condescendingly.

    “Yes Sir.” And I really did. I felt so pathetic but I also felt like this was where I was meant to be.

    “Ah you already know your place, that’s good. Say, why don’t you give my feet some pecks to show your love for them, huh?” I lunged to his soles and planted kiss after kiss, while Thomas just laughed at how pathetic his faggot roommate was.

    After a few minutes of rubbing and kissing, he took his feet away from me and I was awash with emptiness and despair. I looked up to his face, his eyes boring into my soul. “Look if you’re gonna be one of my subs, you need to follow the rules of all my other subs. I’m a Cash Master, that’s how this works. If you want to serve me, you have to pay.”

    “But I don’t have a lot of money Sir, my internship is almost over, I-I don’t know wha…”

    “Hey, I can help you with all that.” He said this so reassuringly, like he actually cared. To think that he seemed so generous for helping me figure out how he could take my money. “You know what you can do, you can pay my rent with your school loan, it’ll go right to the bursar’s office and you don’t have to do much of anything. I mean it’s a lot, but if anything you should probably be paying more given how you get to serve me. Just think, none of my other fags get to cook me dinner or clean up after me. Hell, you just gave me a foot rub which is more then any of them ever got to do.”

    Suddenly, I realized just how right he was, and how honored I should be. None of them were this close to him, none of them could serve him so intimately. “Here’s what we’ll do, you’ll keep doing all your little chores for me, in exchange for paying my rent and your weekly fag tax. Once in a while, when you’ve been good, I’ll even let you worship my feet. How does that sound?”

    “Perfect Master!! Oh my god thank you Master!” I was on the verge of tears.

    “Now, I will have to lock this cock cage on you because I can’t have a faggot getting off to the smell of my laundry or looking at me when I get out of the shower, that’s fucking disgusting. I’m afraid it’s nonnegotiable.”

    “Of course Master,” I beamed. “I don’t deserve to cum without your permission, please lock up my pathetic dick, please stomp on my sissy balls with your big strong feet. Please Master, please.”

    “Jesus Christ, you’re one of the most pathetic fags I’ve ever seen. Don’t worry boy, I’ll cage that clit and beat your little fag balls every chance I get.”

    “Thank you Master, thank you so much Master.”

    “Now let’s get this cage on you, it’s one of the smallest I could find online but that shouldn’t be a problem for a weak cocksucker like you.”

    He ordered me to strip naked, how I would be in the apartment from now on, and he crammed my dick into the tight cage. My balls were bulged outward, perfect for Master to strike when he wanted, and my dicklet strained in its metal confines. But it felt right.

    “Great,” Master said with a slap to my nuts, causing me to moan out in pain. “Why don’t you go make yourself useful and get my shoes nice and clean while I watch the game. Make sure to do the bottoms too. And, obviously, you should be using your tongue, homo. But don’t fag out on them too much, boy, when I call you to grab me a beer I want it done immediately, no dilly dallying.”

    “Yes Master, thank you Master,” I said rushing over to start on his shoes. God I hope when I’m done he’ll use my back as a footrest to watch the game. He is such a Superior Alpha Male!

    And so the story continues today. Master Thomas showed me where my place was and ensures I stay there, serving him as he pleases. I learned to be a good and devoted slave for him and thank him every day for taking ownership of me, a pathetic faggot, desperate for his control.

    His face right after you tell him you got both his daughters pregnant and show him the picture.

    "Fuck. What do you want? Child support?"

    "No no. You don't understand. I'm not angry. How could I be? You're a young 26-year-old alpha male and you have needs. Sometimes that ends up like this." You say. Jackson looks confused. "My wife and I were a little scared at first. Raising 2 new kids at the same time? That's scary, but we thought it through. We're in a comfortable place financially and really it shouldn't be too much of a problem to raise them."

    "Get to the point cuck. What are you doing here?"

    "Well we want to give you the chance to impregnate my wife. We want to have as many of your alpha children as we can. It's what you deserve anyway."

    And with that, Jackson's face lit up.

    "Fuck cuck. I'll definitely do that. As long as you don't expect me to be a father to them kids. Got it?"

    "Of course sir. Your only duty is to spread that alpba seed and allow someone like me to raise them!"

    This is the kind of thing you can expect when you're an alpha. Its up to the fags and cucks of the world to make this life possible for real men.

    When Tyler told Anthony he used a faggot for domination pleasure, and that that fag paid him to do it, he was taken a bit back.

    "What do you mean Tyler? What do you have him do?"

    "I make his fag ass do whatever I want. He cooks, cleans, and drives me places. When he's a good boy and pays up decently, I let him lick my feet. He loves my feet, especially after the gym when they fucking reek!"

    "That sounds weird as fuck dude." Anthony said.

    Tyler having expected Anthony to react this way put up his finger with a smirk. "One sec" he said. He proceeded to pull out a fat stack of cash and flaunt it to Anthony.

    "What what the fuck? Since when do you have all that money?"

    "Aren't you listening Ant? The fag pays me to make him do shit for me. So what if every so often I reward him with my smelly ass feet?"

    "Fuck Tyler. I wanna get in on that!"

    Alright. The fag is coming over later. I'll text him and let him know he needs to bring extra money cause you'll be there. Come over around 8 pm."

    "Alright, I'll see you then!"


    Later that night, Anthony did actually go to Tylers. When he went in, the fag was already there, on his knees waiting in front of the couch with his head down.

    "Alright then fag, introduce yourself. This is Anthony, my buddy I told you about."

    "Hello, Anthony. I'm Tyler's fag. Nice to meet and to serve you!" The fag said with a small wave and smile as he barely looked up.

    They sat down.

    "Alright fag, show him how I reward you for being a good boy," Tyler said as he lifted his foot in the fags face. The sock was rank. He must've gone to the gym before.

    The fag then grabbed his foot and shoved his face into Tyler's toes. He inhaled deeply and started moaning as he rubbed his face into Tyler's nasty sole.

    "Holy shit Tyler. He really likes it!"

    "Yeah, he does." They both laughed. "Watch this. Lean in faggot. You know whats coming."

    The faggot leaned in and opened it's mouth. Tyler then spit in the fags mouth. Anthony was shocked and amused.

    "Bro. He really likes that?" Anthony asked.

    "Answer him faggot." Tyler said with a smirk.

    "Yes sir. I love it when master degrades me."

    "It's his turn fag. Do some work on your new master. Give Anthony a fun time for his first time." Tyler said as he sat back and motioned toward Anthony.

    Anthony placed his foot in the air.

    "Lick my toes fag!"

    And that the fag did.

    After about 10 minutes, and licking every corner of Anthony's feet Anthony wanted to spit in the fags face. Of course, the fag did as he was told and loved every second of it.

    At the end, the fag handed both Tyler and Anthony $150 each. The fag then got up and walked out, closing the door behind him.

    This is what alphas should be. They should not only be dominators but also teachers to fellow alphas that just need the push to accept their place above fags.


    Jason checked his sock drawer, and noticed something was missing. A special pair of socks that he had received from a long time friend was gone. He went to his dirty clothes laundry bag to see it they were there. But they wasn't there either. He began to wonder what could have happened to them.

    He went into the living room of the house he shared with his roommate. He asked his roommate Chad if he had seen a special pair of black socks with a Star Trek emblem on the soles. Chad had turned from the tv to think about it.

    Chad then remembered that he had borrowed a pair of socks just like that from Jason's room. "Oh yeah, I was completely out of clean socks and I needed to borrow one from you. I think those were the ones I got out of your sock drawer." Chad spoke.

    Jason was upset that he borrowed without asking, but at least he knew what had happened to them. "Where are they now?" He asked. Those socks were his favorite pair. He rarely wore them so that they would last longer.

    Chad went to his room to retrieve them. When he came back the black socks did not look good. There was holes in the soles and at the ankle of the socks. Jason wasn't too happy to see how much disrepair they looked. They looked nothing like that when he last saw them. "What happened to them?" Jason asked, feeling slightly furious.

    Chad handed him back the socks, "Sorry about how they looked. I had them for about a week and my feet were a little rough on them in my football cleats." Chad paused. "I looked online and saw a replacement pair. I already ordered it and it should arrive tomorrow. I was planning to put in the replacement pair before you realize they were missing." Chad finished, very apoligethcially.

    Jason was internally upset. A replacement pair would look the same, but would not be the same. A special friend of his knew he loved Star Trek and brought those socks for him. There was no way a replacement pair would feel the same to him now that he knows what happened to his original pair. He knew there was one way to ease his anger, but he would wait to settle it.

    "It's cool then. When it comes, let me know. Next time, please ask to borrow anything from my room before you take it." Jason spoke back thinking of the exact plan he had to get his roommate back for ruining one of his favorite gifts he had ever recieved.

    The next day, the replacement socks did arrive by amazon delivery as predicted. Chad took the amazon package and placed it on Jason's bed since he was still out. He wrote an "I'm Sorry" letter and left it on top for him to see.

    About two hour later, Jason arrived home and saw the package on his bed. The new Star Trek socks had arrived, but seeing the new pair only made him realized the ruined pair was thrown in the trash yesterday. He could not wear them anymore because of the condition they were in. He went to his closet and found his transformation shrink ray device. He set the setting to grey and white stripe cotton socks size twelve. Since Chad like to borrow his things without asking, he would return the favor. He would borrow him without asking.

    Jason waited till he saw Chad watching tv. He took his device unnoticed by Chad and pointed it at him. He fired a ray at him, and waited to see the action.

    Chad was enjoying his favorite tv drama, when suddenly he felt strange. The chair began to feel like it was bigger than usual. The tv began to get larger as well. Infact the whole room was growing larger in size. He started to scream for help, but his mouth suddenly sealed shut. He saw a now giant size Jason coming around to stand above him. From the look on his face, he saw that he was not surprised to what was happening. He just stood there with satisfied grin on his face.

    As his body continued to shrink, Chad saw his skin change as well. It was becoming soft like cotton. He then realized what change was taking place considering the size he had become already. He was turning into a sock or possibly a pair of socks. His vision got blurry as more of his body became soft cotton form. Once the right size his entire body assumed for form of a sock that then duplicated itself to make a pair of socks.

    Jason reaches down and picked put the socks from off the couch. "You borrowed something precious to me without asking first, so I decided to do the same." He paused as he felt Chad's sock form in his hand, and how soft it felt. "I am borrowing you to wear on my feet for a little while. I hope you enjoy my feet, and if you don't, it doesn't matter. You will be a socks for a little while." He finished and put Chad on to his feet. The new socks felt so good on his feet. "By the way, I will wear you every day for a good month. If you survive with no holes in you, I will turn you back. But if you do develop holes, you might be stuck this way and be used as a tool for me to jerk off to on a permanent basis." He laughed as he went to go put on his favorite pair of sneakers.

    Jason did a quick sniff and found the foot odor in the sneakers quite raunchy. He looked down back at his sock. "I hope this is a lessons learned for you, buddy." He spoke to his socks as he put on his shoes.

    Chad was mentally pleading with Jason not to do this to him. But he could tell Jason couldn't hear his mental thoughts. As socks, he found his senses even more heighten than when he was human. The smell of Jason's foot was so strong. He could taste the saltiness of his foot as though his whole foot was in his mouth. The smell was so strong, it was like the foot was covering up his nose. It got even worse when he was shoved into a stinky sneaker. Not only was the foot torture, but being trapped around all that stink made him want to vomit if he had a physical mouth to do so. The thought of thirty days of this frightened him. He wondered if his mind would still be intact after it was done. But also, the thought of his sock bodies surviving thirty days on his feet with no holes put his mind in a dire prospect. Jason had been known to be hard on his socks.

    DAY 5...........

    Jason had been wearing Chad for the past five days. The only time he really gave his roommate a break from his feet was when he was showering. He wore Chad when he went to sleep and just about everywhere he went. He would keep his promise to free him after thirty days if he didn't have any holes in him from the abuse he would take from his feet.

    As Jason was watching a video on his computer, he came up with an idea. He removed the sock off the left foot. "Hope you enjoy this, buddy." He spoke to his sock. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear. He placed the sock over his dick as he turned up the volume on the computer. He made the video he was watching go full screen. As the action on the video intensified, so did the feelings of his dick. It began to get harder and harder as an erection was coming. He began rubbing the sock up and down his dick.

    Chad was mentally screaming for help. He was in no way gay, but this was not something he signed up for. It felt like his entire body was being violated by his roommate's dick. He knew exactly what would happen once he climaxed. If all of his senses were heightened, he didn't want to taste what was about to violate his mental being.

    Jason finally climaxed as he was rubbing the sock over his dick. Cum sprayed into the sock, coating the inside of it. Jason continued till ever last drop of cum was out and in the sock. Ever since turning his roommate into a pair of socks, he wondered what it would feel like to this to him. Jerking off in normal socks didn't have this feeling. The fact that the jacked off right into his roommate and his roommate was powerless to stop it, gave him such a mental power trip. He rather enjoyed. He rubbed the cum in the sock and put it back on his foot. "That was fun, buddy." He spoke as he continued on with his day with no care to how the sock felt about what just happened to him.

    Even though he was a simple pair of socks, Chad could taste Jason's cum as it was coated on the inside of his sock body. It was so disgusting to him. He was glad he didn't have a mouth, or definitely would have gagged. He felt the foot reenter his sock body. Now he had to contend with the cum taste and foot taste at the same time. He mentally was cursing at this roommate for what he just did. Yes, he took something of his without permission, but he felt he didn't deserve this kind of treatment.

    DAY 17........

    For the past twelve days, Jason has used Chad for not only just comforting his feet, but nightly jack off sessions. There were a few days, he had used him for that purpose at least three times in the same day. To make being socks even worse for him, he decided not to wash him at all.

    Jason examined Chad and saw that he hadn't developed any holes yet. He then realized that human transformed clothing might have some kind of durability in it. He decided to run some test in that theory. He would go on a five mile jog in the roughest shoes he has.

    Jason lifted up the old running shoes. He didn't even have to hold them to his face to tell the odor was bad. The insoles in the shoes were in need of dire repair or replacement. The reason why he stop using them was that they were rough on his feet.

    With the shoes on and laced up, Jason found that the rough insoles weren't a factor with his new socks. They seemed to compensate for the worn down insoles. "It's going to be a great jog," Jason thought to himself as he left his place to go start his run.

    Chad was in agony. He was wrapped around Jason's foot, supporting his weight, while protecting his feet from an unforgiving worn down insole. Every step Jason took brought pressure to him against the uncomfortable insole. It only got worse when Jason was outside starting his jog. The pounding of Jason's feet was like a building smashing on to him over and over without end. That would not have been too terribly bad if it wasn't for the grinding of the unrelenting insole he was pressed up against. It scrapped against the sole part of his sock bodies. Things got even more worse as Jason's foot began to sweat. He was forced to soak it up along with inhaling the foul foot odor from the old sneakers and his feet. His mind was going crazy at the torment he was being put through. He felt so degraded that his roommate would do this to him all because of the one pair of socks he ruined.

    Jason was ten minutes into his 5 mile jog, and was amazed how his feet felt. Normally his feet would be hurting with normal socks using these shoes. But his feet felt like he was pressing on comfortable and firm clouds. Yet he knew Chad wasn't experiencing the comfort he was experiencing. This level of comfort comes at the cost of Chad's pain under his feet. But Jason didn't mind. This was Chad's punishment for using his special pair of socks without permission and ruining them. This was only day seventeen. He only hoped that his roommate's mind could survive the full thirty days or at least his sock bodies for that matter. His feet could be brutal on a pair of socks, let alone human transformed socks.

    DAY 30.......

    For thirty days, Jason enjoyed using Chad for workouts, jogs, and even nightly jerk sessions. Even just hanging out with his friends were great. No matter what shoes he wore, his feet had the best comfort. He almost felt bad about turning him human again. He looked to examine his socks and saw that wear and tear had taken a toll on them. His feet had finally done some damage. There was even a sizeable hole in the heel of one of the socks. Chad didn't survive to the end of day thirty. He now could keep him this way if he chose. But then he thought of Chad's mind. He wondered if he was loving being socks or was still resisting serving his feet.

    Chad endured all the pain of supporting his roommate's feet. Now at Day thirty, he didn't care to be human again. All he wanted to do was keep his roommate's feet comfortable. He even thought of his roommate as Master Jason. He wanted to continue to serve Master Jason's feet even longer. He loved being wrapped around his feet. He began to wonder why he was so resistant to this life in the beginning. All he was now, was Master Jason's socks and he didn't want that to change.

    After a full month of being sock, Jason saw no point in turning him back. He could just easily use his device to repair him and continue using him to serve his feet. Whether Jason wanted this life or not, didn't matter to him. He was socks now.


    About six months ago, we were watching some porn and some guy got tied up like this. I remember saying to him with some disdain, “Why would anybody let themselves be tied up like a faggot?” He just smiled and didn’t say anything.

    Over the last several months we got into a little bondage play. He’d tie my hands to the bed and fuck me. Later he tied my feet and things progressed from there. Fast forward to today and here I am tied up like a pig. When he finished he sat down at the table looked at me, smiled and said, “People allow themselves to be tied up like faggots because they are faggots. That’s why that boy we saw six months ago allowed himself to be tied up like this, and that’s why you did too. Do you understand?“ I couldn’t really say yes, so I just nodded and muffled a yes sound. “Don’t ever judge again boy. It’s not nice. You never know what you might become in the right environment.” All I could do was nod. He was so right and I am a faggot.

    What's that little guy? You want your body back? Well it's too late now. The transformation's already taken effect. Can't reverse the magic. Your transformation will be done soon enough as well. Soon you'll lose all your sentience and become nothing but my literal fleshlight. What's that you say? You're sorry for attacking me outside the bar? Well it's too late now bud. You messed with the wrong f*ggot. I didn't survive decades of homophobia without a few tricks up my sleeve, like body swap magic, or the power of transformation. Soon everyone will be forgetting what the old me used to look like, and they'll be forgetting that you ever existed. That's what you get for being a hateful bigot. Can't wait to stick my fat new cock in you to shut you up.

    Outside this house, you might be a big shot lawyer, and intimidate everyone.

    But here, big bro? You're still the weak, sniveling little bitch you've always been. You gave up your cunt to a teenager, and you will never be more than my faggot... ever!

    I grew up bigger, stronger, and better hung. Like mother nature was trying to reward our parents for having to raise you!

    I'm going to remind you for the rest of your life you deserve nothing but abuse and pain. Your girlfriend? She's been spreading for me for weeks now. Your friends? Gonna invite them to a Fuck the Faggot party.

    EVERYTHING you have is mine, you stupid cunt! Now that I'm outta prison, time to put you back in your place - under my boot, like the inferior subhuman slave you are!


    “I know it stinks!!! I know very well that it stinks! I tried my best the last few months to stink those beauties up for you! Thought you’d like that!” He pushed his sneaker into my face, harder and harder each second. “Well... you’ll like it eventually! But you’re probably gagging right now, aren’t you?” He was right! I have never smelled something so bad! A foggy and lightheaded feeling started to grow. I couldn’t breath any fresh air, just the damp, rank and musky air from his shoe. “Just take it easy boy! Just relax! As I said, you will like it eventually! Since this is the only thing you’re gonna breath for the couple of hours you should try to get used to it! Otherwise those hours will be very long!”


    “Let me explain the rules. Think of this as a game.”


    “If my feet are clean within half an hour, you win and you get to cum today!”

    “If they’re dirty when the alarm goes off, we add a week to your chastity sentence.”

    “Understand the rules, toe boy? Alright, your time starts now.”

    Of course, I’m cuffed to the radiator at the other side of the room and can’t get near his feet.

    It’s not supposed to be fair. I’m supposed to suffer.

    On vacation in brazil, you met Raph. He barely spoke enlgish, but he spoke enough to make you want to come home with him. You didn't know how old he was, or what he really planned to do, but you went back to his apartment anyway. All you knew, was that while he was dancing, he was showing you how he was going to fuck you. You were excited. If anything, you be bringing home a souvenir with you, one you could open in 9 months.

    "Dude we need to talk." Chandler said to Eric with a nervous tone.

    "Yeah dude whats up?" Eric responded in the middle of a home work out in his basement.

    "You got my cousin pregnant dude..."


    "You got her pregnant. She missed her period and she took a test."

    "Ok. But how do you know it was me? I wore rubbers when I fucked her."

    "Not at the party we were all at last week. She said you were drunk and you didn't wear one. She said you came inside her and then like passed out on top of her."

    The memories started coming back to Eric.

    "Oh... uh... so what's she thinking?" He said with a nervous smile.

    "She wanted me to tell you so that I could find out what you wanted to do..."

    "Oh ok. Dope. Well if she wants to keep it that's on her. I'm definitely not trying to raise a kid right now. So if she wants to have the baby she has to know I'm not gunna be involved." Eric said with a serious face.

    "That's fucked up dude. So basically youre saying get an abortion or be a single mom?"

    "Pretty much. Like I said, I'm not trying to be a father to anything right now."

    "Ok...I'll let her know..." Chandler said as he got up and walked out of the basement.

    Eric let out a big sigh, laid back on the bench, and continued his workout.


    A year later, Eric was still living in town with his parents. He occasionally saw Chandler's cousin out and about too. She decided to keep the baby. It was a girl. Whenever they would see each other, she would give him nasty looks and head in the opposite direction. Eric was fine with that. He gave her his choices and she decided to keep it. She could be mad about it if she wants.

    Chandler never stopped being your buddy, but he looked at you kinda differently now. He took on the role of being the male caretaker for the kid, so maybe he resented you a bit. Oh well. It is what it is.

    “Really dude? You’re gonna offer yourself up to me just like that? Fuck yeah I’ll let you add to my cock! I hope you know though that I am gonna cum most of your brains out once I merge you though right? I don’t got much use for a dick that thinks about much more than cuming fucking pissing and just generally feeling good. But hey if you like the idea of that, and that tent in your pants says you do, why don’t I take you over to that pool bench, fuck the shit out of you in front of my friends, they like to watch guys like you disappear into my dick, then I’ll merge you and send whatever intelligent part of you into the towel beneath you. Hell yeah man more cock for me and a lot less thinkin for you! You’re gonna love it.”

    You and your friends hired a male stripper to come entertain you for your friends 24th birthday party. He had been eyeing you up all night and even gave you a lap dance. You felt bad you didn’t have cash to spare to tip him, you had just lost your job and didn’t have much going on for you so you whispered in his ear, “Meet me in the bathroom in 10” when he was finishing up his dance. A couple minutes of ass fucking and a few cock merge pills exchanged and you were now helping the already well endowed stripper make even more money. You’re friends supported your decision and tou decided to stay for a few months helping him get more and more gigs. Who knows maybe you’ll stay on this hunk for a while.

    Being a fan of men with a bit more meat on them, I was getting increasingly annoyed by one of my friend’s constant whining about his weight. He kept talking about wanting to go on a diet, but we both knew that wasn’t what he really wanted, and I certainly didn’t want to see him lose that big, sexy gut of his. So I told him bluntly how I felt; I thought he should just let himself go, enjoy eating whatever he wanted and end up at the size he wanted to be.

    He happily agreed, but what I hadn’t anticipated is exactly how he planned to begin his new indulgent lifestyle. With a grin on his face, he grabbed my wrists and stuffed them into his mouth, letting out a small moan as he started to swallow my arms. I tried to beg him not to keep going, but after a couple more gulps I was smothered by the slimy walls of his gullet, restricting my ability to breathe, let alone speak.

    I felt myself slip deeper inside him as he continued to swallow, stopping for a brief moment with his lips around my waist so he could remove my jeans and underwear. As scared as I was, the feeling of vulnerability while trapped inside him and the fact I would be fattening him up in the end made me slightly aroused. As a result, my friend got to enjoy the salty flavour leaking from me as his tongue ran along my shaft, making him moan even louder while he slurped down my legs and relished the taste.

    His gut swelled out in front of him as the last of my body dropped inside, his skin stretched tighter than it had ever been. I knew it was my fault for telling him to gorge himself in the first place, but I wasn’t ready to accept that I’d been so quickly downgraded from friend to food. I could hear him moan as he rubbed his bloated belly, feeling my struggles beneath his fingers.

    “Damn, it feels good being this full. I’ll try to churn you away nice and slowly so I can enjoy every moment of this…”

    Perhaps he thought I’d enjoy hearing that he wanted to make the most of his meal, but in reality it was far from soothing. I tried to push against the walls of his stomach as they throbbed against me, but they were too wet and slippery from his digestive juices. With each satisfied belch he let out, it became increasingly difficult to move as his stomach gripped me tighter. Eventually I gave up struggling entirely, and just hoped that I would pass out before reaching the painful part of my transformation into a new layer of fat for him.