Foot Feed (Patreon)

Politics is a game for the soulless. One where the people who get into bed with can make or break you. As Charles is about to find out when his alliance with a maniac is flipped on its head.

Contains

• F/M
• Humiliation
• Foot Fetish
• Femdom

Story Sample

What if one day the devil knocked on your door and offered to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You’d turn him down, naturally. Deals that are too good to be true often are.

So you tell him no. There’s nothing he can offered that you can’t earn for yourself. And you hold your head high knowing your pride and soul are intact.

There’s just one problem.

A soul in this world is just a thirty ton collar keeping your face pressed into the dirt. Meanwhile the men who’ve use the holes in their chests as an extra wallet do all they can to keep you there. They dangle power and respect in front of you, and by the time you have it,  it’s worth nothing. You’re just another one of them.

Until one day you hear another knock at the door. It’s the devil, and he has the exact same deal for you. Everything you could ever want, with a few strings attached here and there.

What then?

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“Hey there! Hi there! Ho there! You’re as welcome as can be!~” the girlish voice sang as my vision slowly returned. But when I finally regained consciousness, there was no one there. The only thing to welcome me is the feeling of the drab air washing over my naked body and dozens of TVs stacked on one another.

Fucking bozos… They were screwing with me…

I feel dizzy. Like I’m strapped to one of those tilt-a-whirl rides at the Gotham Fair. I try to fling myself off this strange medical table beneath me, but “strapped” is the perfect word. I COULDN’T MOVE!

Those bastards! This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t, but no matter how hard I pull the leather binds wont give. I was trapped, naked, and completely helpless.

“Joker! JOKER, WHERE ARE YOU!? Don’t play the fool! Jackson’s only going to let you down. The people are tired of him! Don’t lose sight of what we planned!” I wait for a response, for anyone to answer me, but I get nothing. I begin to lose my temper.

“HE’LL LOSE! DON’T YOU HEAR ME?! YOU’LL FUCKING LOSE!!!”

Just then, one of the TVs flicker to life, showing a single feminine foot. My stomach drops, knowing better than anyone that wasn’t just any picture.

As if on cue, every screen turned on. Each of them with their own photo from my private collection. Before I knew it, my vision was assaulted with my own shameful secret. My own little affair I’ve not been able to shake since I was a boy. The lustful obsession of women’s feet.

It started as a curious child’s hobby. A harmless candid of my teachers and friends here and there. Obviously when money and influence increased I had no need for a bunch of crass pictures, but for some reason I kept adding to it. There was never a reason to stop. If I had cared about morality, I wouldn’t have started in the first place.

My heart sinks as my brain tries to put the peaces together. How did they find this? How long have they had it? How did something like this fall into Jackson’s filthy hands?? Picture after picture swaps between the monitors as my body and mind continue to scream.

“Wowie!~ With all those piggies, someone would think you were watching the nature channel!” a familiar voice cackled from behind me, and it sure as hell wasn’t Joker.

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