Note: This story contains BDSM themes. It was edited by Naughty_Penpal; thank you for your work! Comments are always appreciated!
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Billy woke up alone the next morning. He slid over to the empty spot beside him and sniffed the duvet, catching a faint trace of his Master's scent. He spent some time idly rolling around, then eventually got up. Master Xen had let him sleep in after yesterdays excitement but, surely, he would not appreciate laziness. And sure enough, there was a note on the nightstand:
"60 push ups, 60 crunches, shower. Dress for the gym. You know how I like my breakfast. Only fruit salad and water for you."
Billy went about the demanded morning routine. He picked work out clothes from his new wardrobe: comfortable, light-grey sweats and a hoody over compression shorts and a tank top with a narrow back. He looked at himself in the mirror, preening and posing for a bit.
Xen still hadn't shown up by the time breakfast was ready, so the boy ate his fruit salad. Just when he had finished brushing his teeth, he heard the apartment door.
Master Xen had been out for a run. He was wearing a tight cotton T-shirt, comfy short sweats, sport socks, and well-worn sneakers. And he was
sweaty
. Billy couldn't help but stare at the dark stains underneath Xen's armpits.
Billy offered Xen a glass of water, which he accepted; then Xen let himself drop in a leather chair, and put his feet up on a stool. He exhaled contentedly.
"Take off my shoes, boy."
Billy knelt down at his Masters feet, and started unlacing the sneakers. When Billy pulled off the shoes and socks, the ripe odor of sweaty man-feet filled the air. Billy took a sniff, as discreetly as possible.
"You know I saw that, right?" said Xen, somewhat amused.
Billy looked up, shame-faced. There were words on his lips he couldn't bring himself to say.
"I'm gonna say yes, you know. But you have to ask first."
Billy gathered his nerve and stammered: "Sir... may I... sniff your feet? Sir. Please?"
"What was that, boy?"
"Sir! May I please sniff your feet, Sir!"
"Yes, you may. But first, the shoes."
Billy didn't need telling twice. He took one of Xen's sneakers and stuck his nose in it. He closed his eyes, and took a deep sniff. The odor was nasty and intense. Billy wrinkled his nose, but at the same time kept the shoe pressed to his face, craving more. It was like a drug. And there it was again, that familiar pull between his legs.
"Keep your eyes closed, and find my feet," said Xen.
Billy did as he was told. He moved his head in the general direction of his Master, and bumped into his feet with the side of his face. He then proceeded to sniff his Master's toes. They were sweaty, but compared to the penetrating rankness of the sneaker, the odor was mild and almost pleasantly aromatic. The skin on the soles felt warm and tough against Billy's face.
The scent brought up memories of locker rooms, of horsing around half naked with his buds, of teasing and hazing each other. Memories of secretly wanting to be the butt of those more-cruel-than-funny jokes he used to play on others. Even long suppressed memories of those few times he had stayed behind on purpose, looking for opportunities to secretly sniff a dirty, sweat and piss stained jock.
And here he was, his nose between the toes of this powerful man, something he never had allowed himself to even dream of.
He pursed his lips, and placed a shy kiss on his Master's sole. Billy knew, he hadn't asked permission... but he just couldn't help himself. Xen let out a low, pleased moan. Emboldened, the boy dared to take a careful lick. Xen rumbled happily.