Sole Seduction

Nine twenty six.

I said to myself, rounding the corner of the warehouse that I parked behind. It was exactly where the text told me to park, at exactly a minute after it told me to be here.

I hurried through the summer twilight toward my destination; I had another few minutes before my time was going to start, but I wanted to have as much time as possible to select.

To pick a...

"Ahh, Mr. Green; perfectly on time," the host said. I was a bit taken aback by his... Strangeness. The way his spiked blue hair cascaded down his back and his red eyes; he looked like an anime character. "Welcome to the Maven's Mischievous Menagerie's presentation of this delectable fetish pop-up... Sole Seduction." His tone was deep but light, bouncy but dripping with slyness. I was instantly suspicious.

But I was also fucking horny.

He motioned, welcoming me to stand beside him and gaze upon the long trailer that he stood at the open entrance to. There wasn't much inside of it; I could see about three quarters of the interior was plywood boxes. There was barely enough room to squeeze down the line of them.

That must have been where...

"I hope you are prepared, you lucky dog," he joked as I took to his side, not matching his eyes. I wasn't in the mood for any small-talk, but his words instantly jarred my thoughts. Of course I was ready, right? And I was lucky, I got my--

"First pick is such a thrilling privilege. And we have a delicious selection for you tonight," he spoke. The directness of his line made me finally look at him, a stunned look of surprise on my face. The way he smirked back to me probably should have frightened me a little.

But I was so fucking horny.

He clapped a hand on my back, coaxing me to walk with him as we moved up the shallow incline and to the entrance of the trailer. He stood next to the box and opened his palms, presenting the narrow entryway.

"Nine twenty eight, you have two minutes before your thirty five minutes begins. Please select one."

His words made my heart race--it was finally time. I was committed now.

I hope two minutes was enough time.

Now that I was at the precipice of the trailer, I could clearly see that there were five doors, all constructed from plywood that stretched down the length of it. They opened inward, each with a simple lock. Each one had a simple number dangling from a nail upon it.

I remembered my instructions; I was to take the number off the door when I made my choice, lock it, and I was not permitted to leave until my thirty five minutes was up.

With a nervous sigh, I shuffled my way into the makeshift hallway, face to face with door number one.

I could no longer see that anime protagonist-looking host, but I could definitely feel his mischievous gaze.

I took a deep breath, placed my palm upon the door, and pushed.

I was greeted with more plywood; effectively creating a little room barely big enough for the simple metal stool that sat inside it. Protruding out from the plywood across from me, I saw the soles of large, heavy boots simply dangling in the air.

My jaw hung agape and a blush rose to my cheeks. It was like a dream.

I didn't even need to see the other options, my mind was made up. I took a single step through the handcrafted entryway. The space was inconveniently small, so I had to not only step weirdly around the stool, but also press myself into the soles of those boots that stuck out.

Feeling the contact of my body against the boots, they recoiled slightly--I'm not sure out of revulsion or accommodation--but it was enough to let me get the door closed.

...Before I remembered that I had to take that number, so with a groan I reopened the door, plucked the dangling decoration off of its post, and re-closed the door, where I proceeded to lock it.

Turning back to face the boots in front of my, my jaw was still lax. I just couldn't believe that one of my ultimate fetishes was the first thing I would see when I did this.

I also couldn't believe that they were mine for the next thirty five minutes.

Carelessly dropping my number, I shakily drew my hands to the edges of those thick boots. Now that I was standing above them, I could see the buckles that adorned the tops of them, and up the lengths that then vanished behind the makeshift bondage that kept them in place.

I could also see that there was padding between the boots and the plywood, and that over each ankle on the wood it looked like there was a button? One said 'loosen', the other 'tighten'. My brain was moving a mile a minute, but I did manage to comprehend what that was for.

I sat down on the stool as my hands continued to caress the shiny leather boots, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. I was like a child being overly cautious about touching something they knew was too expensive for them.

But quickly the horny began to take over.

I could see that only one of the buckles was still fastened, the one right near the toes of the boots. I probably didn't even need to loosen it. The padding as well looked like it wasn't really straining against the footwear.

With an ever-deepening salacious demeanor I gripped the toe and the heel of the left boot, bracing myself against the plywood and tugging. I felt it move an inch, but it would need more. With a grunt I gave another pull, then another, a fourth and fifth. Inch by inch more of the boot was revealed to me, more buckles, undone zippers. I had to pull upward because I had no space behind me to lean.

Until finally the leather was gone, and my prize was revealed to me.

I gasped--I just couldn't help it.

The foot in front of me was pale--almost impossibly so. It looked like a female size seven, though on the wider side. The ankle was thick but toned; probably belonging to someone that was pretty average in stature. The sole was the same pale color as the tops, and the toes--bubbly and chubby despite the relative shape of the foot itself--were painted black.

It was the most perfect gothic foot I had ever seen in my life.

I took a sharp inhale through my nose... Oh my god it was like heaven. I could tell it had been in these boots for a while, the scent was thick with pheromones and depth, but it was not anywhere near disgusting. There was also a hint of vanilla, the sweetness of a lotion, and a luscious warmth that emanated off of it.

My mind was threatening to blank right then and there, barely able to handle the perfection of this scene. But I wasn't done yet; I needed the other one. Much less graciously I gripped the other boot and pulled it off. I must've been a little too rough, because I heard a surprised gasp from the other side of the plywood.

With a heavy thunk I dropped the second boot. Both of these feet were revealed to me now, and I was in love. They were idly moving; I think they could feel my hungry gaze on them. But the way they shifted, sheepishly, toes curling under my sight. God it made me want them more.

I had a split second of conflict. I wanted to start slow; I wanted to savor the moment.

But as I took another deep breath through my nose, getting that addictive mix of scents and sensations...

I shot my hands to the feet before me, cupping the tops of them and pressing the soles sort of together before I dove my face shamelessly between them. My nose was plastered right between both feet, and I just sniffed hard.

"F-fuck..." I heard a barely audible whisper from the owner, an airy word that just egged me on. The pale soles were so warm and with a softness I had never felt before. It took me barely a second before all my faculties were gone and I was completely lost in these soles.

With a shuddering moan I began to worship. God I must have looked pathetic with the way I was so hungrily lapping at these feet. I was no virgin with my tongue, but something about the perfection of these made me move like an beast. I might as well have been a barnyard animal licking a saltlick with the way my tongue ravished from sole to sole.

There was no shame in me, and I didn't give a shit. I needed these feet.

And from the light coos and moans that I could hear from the other side, they needed me.

I usually prided myself on my ability to tease, my skills with how I could use my tongue to produce various effects from whomever I was playing with. But there was none of that here; I was feral. These silken, gothic soles were bringing out the depths of my lust for the body part I prized the most.

Gleefully I slid my tongue between the goth's toes, using my thumb to rub the ball of the foot to get them to spread wide and let me taste every inch of the digits. Despite the heft of the boots there wasn't a scuff of imperfection anywhere on these feet, and trust me with how deep and frantic I was navigating their skin with my tongue I would have found it.

With a wet slurp I took two of the toes into my mouth, clamping my lips over them and starting to suck. With the sensation of those chubby toes in my maw, letting my tongue run over them I was practically losing my humanity. I groaned lustfully into the foot, using my other hand to make the other foot rub against my cheek.

My moaning must have hit a chord with whomever I was having my way with, because I continued to hear light words of pleasure coming from their owner.

"...White, welcome."

I heard the host's voice nearby; the next guest was approaching. Only a small part of my mind was still cognizant of my surroundings--not like I really cared what was going on, but it was a good timeframe. It means I had about twenty minutes left.

"...of course..."

"Wh-what ab--..."

"--...en that, yes. ... ... --reed to have... .. to their feet. ... ... have your fun!"

As my mind shifted in and out of comprehension of the conversation that was happening outside my little foot-obsessed world, and with my arousal hitting its goddamn peak. I remembered something about this whole endeavor.

Anything goes.

Rubbing my nose between the heavenly-scented gothic toes, I let one hand drop off the foot, crawling down my body to my jeans.

I just couldn't take it anymore.

I wasn't wearing a belt today, so all I had to do was fumble with my button. I popped it easily, and made short work of my zipper. I shuffled my hips and legs, but let out a frustrated moan as I just couldn't maneuver my pants with just one hand. I let my other hand off the foot it was holding, just having my face pressed into the plush pale sole to kiss.

I had no dignity in this box, and I did not care.

Finally my pants were around my ankles, and my bare ass was on the pleather cushion of the seat. I returned my right hand to the feet before me, using it to hold the soles as together as they could be so I could start lashing my tongue up and down both shapely arches back and forth.

My left hand, gripped my throbbing cock, finally able to get some relief here.

I moaned so hard into the feet I was pleasuring my tongue with; it felt so fucking good to finally start stroking, I just couldn't help all the noises.

I think the owner could tell something had changed, because it sounded like their moans too got so much deeper.

I was being slow with my stroking, just pumping my hand rhythmically up and down my modest cock. My focus was still on these amazing feet; taking in more of their scent and taste, feeling their luscious softness against my face. I started to floss my tongue in and around the toes, feeling them twitch against my warm muscle. The way they moved; I could tell they loved this as much as I did.

That knowledge definitely made it better, and made a dribble of precum drip off my tip.

Anything goes.

I was a lust-monster now--all semblance of pride, shame, or even humanity gone.

Anything goes.

My horniness took over. Although my brain struggled to let my body move, with a final long lick I pulled my face away from my treasures, standing up slowly.

The positioning was perfect--too perfect. I slid my hips foreword, and used my hands to guide both the feet and my dick. I pressed the underside of my erection against the ball of the left foot.

"...Oh..." It was equal parts gasp, moan, and plea from the owner.

I nearly came right then and there.

Looking down at the perfect goth feet that were touching my leaking dick, it was the most erotic scene I had ever seen. My gutturally-fueled mind could only do one thing.

I started to fuck.

I let my hand slide off my dick and onto the top of the feet, coaxing them as much as the plywood would allow to press the soles to my cock. There just wasn't enough room to do it as satisfying as I wanted...

I reached to the 'loosen' button, pressing it. The air escaped the balloon-like cushioning, and the feet were able to better cup my erection.

Again I nearly came on the spot.

My hips were moving on their own now, pumping back and forth as I just watched these amazing feet work over me. The toes wiggled lightly, they were just as into this as I was. I held the feet harder to my dick, getting more pressure and pleasure out of my now frantic pumping.

Each movement doubled my lust, each sensation tripled my arousal. The scent of precum and gothic-booted soles was all I could smell, the black polish contrasting impossibly pale feet was all I could see. I was so close, I was nearly there.

I pulled my hips back just a little, moving my left hand to the feet to push them away from my dick, pulling the toes back and holding them. My right hand moved to my cock, starting to pump frantically.

I was going to glaze these feet.

"...cum..." I could barely hear it, uttered from the owner of my perfect soles.

"Hyaaah!" I groaned out deeply, a noise only a beast could make as I had the most powerful orgasm of my life. My cock pressed against the balls of these feet, I launched rope after rope of hot cum onto the toes. I wiped my dick back and forth, smearing my seed over the wet soles, watching and feeling it drip down the arches and sides of the feet. I even got some on my hand that I was using to hold the feet as still as possible.

I lost track of how long I was cumming for; it could've been hours for all I knew. All sense of myself was gone, it was just cum and feet until every last drop was out of me and splattered on these amazing soles and toes.

I flopped back onto my stool, panting deeply. My eyes were half-focused, locked upon the mess I had just made. Globs and globs of sticky whiteness dripped off the toes, a large globule of it dangled off the right heel.

Jackson Pollock would be proud of this.

Through the stupor and clouds of my afterglow, I looked at my watch. Ten 'o four. I had one minute. Despite me wanting to just stew in all of this, I had to sober up.

There was no towels, no cloth, no nothing. Even though most of the cum was clinging to these pale soles, my dick was still a bit of a dribbling mess.

I had one final lewd thought.

Discombobulated, I stumbled for one of the goth's boots. Reaching inside--it was still deliciously warm--I fumbled for what I could only assume was...

I gripped and pulled out a black sock. It was a simple ankle sock, not anything special.

Like a fucking pervert I put it to my nose and took a deep sniff. It was--like the feet--heaven.

But my time was quickly approaching, and I didn't have the luxury of any more enjoyment. I multitasked; standing, pulling up my pants, and wiping the last of my cum off my dick with the sock. I stuffed it back into the boot I got it from.

"Guest number one, your time is up," the host said, not threatening but with a definite firmness.

With my pants secured, I took one final look at the beautiful painting that I had created.

I reached into my pocket to retrieve my phone, snapping a perfect picture. The most beautiful gothic soles I had ever seen, completely a mess with my stickiness.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and--very careful not to disturb my art piece--unlocked the door and made my way out.

"Anything goes," the host said to me as I emerged from my lewd office.

I opened my mouth to reply, but he shook his head, simply smiling. It was a knowing smile, a sly smile.

I bowed my head in thanks.

Then I made my way back to my car before any shame could catch up to me.