Jason Jones, aged 21, a trainee car mechanic, was spending his Thursday evening the way he usually spent his evenings - not to mention his weekends - sitting in front of his computer, and trawling through the panoply of foot-fetish and femdom related websites that were to be found on the Internet.
Jason was obsessed with female feet. For hours on end he would stream foot-fetish related videos, deriving the greatest amount of enjoyment (and 'satisfaction') from those videos that combined foot worship with femdom.
For, Jason's most exciting, most thrilling fantasies, centred around his being in situations that involved him in actually being 'forced' to worship female feet. He loved the idea of submitting. Of being ordered to his knees. Of serving. Of being used, and abused. Of being ... humiliated.
Streaming foot-fetish videos, visiting the Forums, etc., was all very well and good. But Jason, who could hardly last two minutes' together without thoughts of demanding, dominating female feet taking over his mind, yearned for something more. Something more satisfying. Something more ... fulfilling.
Jason was just about to call it a night - it was late, and he had to get up for work in the morning - when for some unknown reason he decided to click on the 'Suggested Sites' link, which threw up some suggestions of sites he may be interested in, based upon the information gathered from his browsing history.
And, what Jason saw, would keep him from his bed awhile yet ...
SERVE OUR SOLES!
HARD TO BELIEVE, THAT WE ARE EVERYWHERE? THAT WE ARE ALL AROUND YOU? FEMALES, WHO WANT YOU - FOOTBOY - AT OUR FEET, EXACTLY WHERE YOU BELONG?
ARE YOU A FOOTBOY? DO YOU KNOW YOUR PLACE? DO YOU WANT TO SHOW YOUR RESPECTS, TO OBEDIENTLY SERVE, AT THE FEET OF FEMALES?
YES?
THEN JOIN THE SOS - 'SERVE OUR SOLES' - CLUB.
NOW!!
By the time Jason had finally shut down his computer, it was well after 3 a.m. But, due to his great excitement, it was quite a while before he eventually drifted off to sleep.
For, purely on impulse, Jason had joined the SOS - Serve Our Soles - Club. It was an absolute snip, felt Jason, at a mere Β£100 per month. And Jason was now eagerly anticipating the arrival of his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch (which looked just like a sports/diver's watch - only it wasn't), which would arrive in the post on Saturday morning.
* * *
Jason usually enjoyed a nice, leisurely lie-in on Saturday mornings. But not this Saturday morning. For, this was the Saturday morning when his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch would arrive. And Jason had got up early, and was waiting for it; impatiently twitching the curtains, and watching out for the postman.
As soon as the postman appeared, Jason hurried to open the front door and, after signing for the discreetly marked package, he thanked the postman and then hurried back inside with his newly acquired treasure.
Jason was sitting on the sofa and, so totally engrossed, was he, in reading up on his SOS Club membership details, and the instructions as to how to set and operate his SOS Club member's wristwatch, that he hadn't realised that his mum had come downstairs, and was standing right behind him. Jason nearly jumped out of his skin, when his mum said, "Oh, you've bought a new watch, Jason, love. What's wrong with your other one, then? Is it broken?"
Fortunately, Jason had anticipated this question from his parents, and he had his answer ready. "No, Mum. This is a sports watch. I got it so that I can time myself when I go jogging," he fibbed.
Eying the package: the letter, and the other printed material pertaining to Jason's SOS Club membership, Jason's mum observed: "Seems a lot of paperwork, Jason, for a simple sports watch ..." Fortunately for Jason, his mum wasn't wearing her glasses yet.
* * *
Jason was up in his bedroom - out of the way; he didn't want to be disturbed. Not now. And he was excited; nervous, edgy. In fact, he was almost bubbling over, with excited anticipation. Jason had set his Serve Our Soles Club member's 'special' wristwatch. It was now fully operational ... And he was receiving a signal.
Jason stared raptly at the face of his SOS Club member's wristwatch as, windscreen-wiper-like, the radar-like instrument made its repeated sweeps ... searching for a 'contact'.
Jason's SOS Club member's wristwatch had 3 lights: Red. Yellow. Green. He'd carefully read his instruction manual from cover to cover. He knew what they meant; knew them by heart now.
Red: You are receiving the signal from the SOS radio mast - but not from a female SOS Club member's transmitter. Keep searching!