Sometimes, something sounds like a good idea, and then turns out to be the most humiliating experience in your life. Well, that happened to me not too long ago. What do I mean? Well, let me tell you.I’m an electrician, and I work as an independent contractor for local businesses. One of my clients, the women’s recreational center, would call me in from time to time. Men were never allowed inside, except for me and the occasional technician. I wasn’t necessarily impressed by what I saw. I did my work and left. No questions.
But then, one day, while working in the gymnasium fixing some lights, I couldn’t help but notice something I never expected to see. A group of seven or eight women were sitting around watching two women on a wrestling mat. But here’s what made it odd. One was sitting in top of the other and rubbing her bare feet in her face. The one underneath was putting up something of a fight, but she took it.
"Kiss them," ordered the one above as she pressed her dirty sole over the other girl’s mouth. "Again," she barked as the women laughed.
I turned away and then when I glanced back, the first girl was standing up. She was strong, slightly muscular with a shirt and stripped sweat pants. She turned to the others and asked: "So who’s next."
"I’ll beat you," said a big-boned but slender woman who must have been at least five feet ten. She stepped onto the mat and then the pair adopted wrestling stances.
"Remember, anything goes," said the first woman.
"I know," said the new girl with a grin.
And then the two of them approached one another. The second one lunged at the first and the pair of them fell to the mat. They rolled about, and just as one was close to being pinned, squirmed free and attempted to pin the other. Arms and legs were grabbed and twisted. One of them even grabbed the other’s breasts, eliciting a shrill scream. It was physical, sweaty and fierce.
It took five minutes for the second woman to finally pin the first to the mat. She held her there, triumphant, while the defeated foe stopped resisting.
"I told you I’d beat you," she remarked with a grin. Reaching for her sneaker, she began to unlace it. "Now you’re going to kiss my feet."
"You cheated," cried the first, her arrogance replaced with desperation.
The second one laughed as she tossed her sneaker aside and began to slide a dirty sweat sock off her large size 11 foot. "You know I didn’t. You’re just worried my feet are going to stink again."
The first woman struggled, but the second girl was too heavy. And without a word, she raised her dirty bare foot and pressed it full onto the defeated girl’s face. "Lick it," she commanded. "I said lick it."
The first girl grimaced as she extended her tongue and slid it over the ball of the woman’s foot. She then attempted to turn her face away.
"They stink," she cried. "Enough."
But the second girl didn’t have enough. She’d already taken off her second shoe and sock, clasping the girl’s face in her large dirty, sweaty feet, rubbing them over her face.
"Kiss my feet," demanded the second girl. "All over."
And then the first girl began to plant kisses over the girl’s bare feet, from heel to toe. She appeared to be in some distress, struggled for a moment before resuming her kissing. The second girl than cupped her toes over the girl’s nose. "Too bad my feet stink."
And then she jumped up. The first girl rolled to her side, and glanced up at me on the other end of the room. "What are you looking at?" she yelled angrily.
Not realizing I’d been staring, I returned to my work. I must have been in there another fifteen minutes as two more pairs of women wrestled on the mat. Each time, the winner would demand the loser either lick her feet or kiss them. I’d ever heard the remark: "Smell ‘em." But I didn’t see anything. I was trying not to look.
Now I do have a thing for women’s feet. I always have. But not for sweaty, smelly feet. I love beautiful, pedicured, clean feet on a woman. Very sexy. But the idea of a woman kicking off her sneakers and rubbing hot, sweaty feet in someone’s face didn’t have much of an appeal. But seeing it with my own eyes changed this.
I imagined myself losing a wrestling match to one of these women and having her rub her sweaty feet in my face, ordering me to lick and kiss them. I think I may have had a hard on for five minutes while I finished my work. And then I thought about it. Did I really want to leave? Or could I find a way to come back?
I figured I had a couple more days of work. I figured if I came in at the same time, I might be able to watch again. But when I came back the following day, the gymnasium was empty. I was disappointed but, once again, imagined wrestling these women, one at a time, and losing miserably. One pair of feet after another should be shoved into my face.
I took my tie to prolong the job as much as I could, and prepared to return for a final day. And this time I was in luck. As before, a group of seven women clustered about a wrestling match on a mat. Two women, the same pair I saw wrestling before were at it on the floor, grabbing at each other fiercely, even slapping and punching each other. There was nothing traditional about this kind of wrestling. No holds barred.
This time the first girl successfully pinned the second girl onto the mat. Triumphantly, she raised her arms. "Now you can smell my feet." And having said that, she clutched at her running shoe and pulled it off, revealing a dirty bare size 9 foot. She wriggled her toes before slamming it onto the girl’s face.
"Lick it now," she commanded, grinning. The other girl, saying nothing, did as she was told. One might suspect she enjoyed having that sweaty foot in her face.
The first girl glanced up again and saw me. "What do you think you’re doing?" she asked me.
"I’m finishing up the wiring here." I was embarrassed to have been caught watching.
"You sure take your time," she replied. "I’m beginning to think you enjoy watching this," she added, her sweaty foot still on the other girl’s face.
"You wanna wrestle," asked someone.
I wanted to say yes. But played dumb. "Sorry?"
"Everyone here has to wrestle," said the first girl. "You can’t just watch and not wrestle."
The girl on the mat spoke up. "But we don’t wrestle guys. He shouldn’t even be here."
"I’m just finishing up," I said. I think I was nervous. I didn’t expect them to notice me.
"What’s your name?"
The first girl stood up. "My name’s Paige." She approached me. "don’t think you could wrestle a woman and win?" She was bating me.
And then I thought about it. There was no reason to be nervous. I wanted this. I wanted to wrestle. Perhaps if I got a rise out of them, they’d insist I wrestle.
"Sure I could win," I began. "I could beat two of you, no problem." Paige smirked while some of the other girl’s either laughed or made sarcastic remarks about how impressed they were.
"How like a man," said Paige with a smile. "Thinks no woman’s a match for him. Well, I don’t think you can wrestle one of us and win."
It was absurd. I looked them over. Of course, I could wrestle them. I was bigger than all of them. "I could take on three of you." What was I getting myself into. I wanted to get in so deep I couldn’t get out. But then I questioned the wisdom of it.
"Oh, could you now," said Paige, her hand on her hip. "What do you think, Haley?" The big-boned girl on the mat sat up. "I’d like to see that."
And then another women approached. She was a curvaceous woman in sweats and sneakers. "But if you lose, you have to pay homage to the winner."
"What Renee’s saying," added Paige, "is that you have to kiss, maybe lick or sniff the winner’s feet if you lose. And if you lose to three of us, you’ve got three pairs of feet to worry about." The other women laughed.
"But I won’t lose," I added, approaching them. I was provoking them really well.
"How arrogant," said Paige. "I’d love to rub your face in it."
"But rules are different for men," said Haley. "Each time you get pinned, you surrender an article of clothing. And if you lose it all, then we get to humiliate you as long as we like."
Take off my clothes in front of all of these women? I wasn’t so sure about it now.
"And that means the winner can rub her feet in your face as long as she likes," added Paige.
The other women were echoing their agreement, cheering the prospect of a top notch match.
"And if I win?" I asked.
"You can leave with your dignity intact. And consider yourself lucky."
I pondered it. Did I want this. I glanced at Paige’s pedicured feet. They were beautiful, elegant feet. I wanted to lose, but did I have to strip?
"Well?" said Paige. "What will it be? Or are you not man enough?"
"I’m man enough."
"Alright. Then meet us here Saturday at 2. That’ll give us several days to prepare. I’ll tell them to expect you up front so don’t worry. Tell them you’re Paige’s guest."
Prepare? I figured I could take them on, or could I? Did I really say I could wrestle three of them?
Paige turned to face the other women. "Alright, next match."
I resumed my work but I couldn’t focus. Was I really going to wrestle with these women? Would pair after pair of soft, beautiful feet be rubbed into my face? Perhaps I wanted it so badly I made it reality. I don’t know. But I couldn’t think of anything else until Saturday.
Just when I thought Saturday would never happen, there I was, entering the women’s recreational center in my street clothes. A woman in sweat pants and a tee shirt gazed up from behind a desk giving me a quizzical glance. As soon as I explained I was a guest of Paige, she grinned.
"Well, that explains it," she replied. "Go ahead. They’re waiting for you."
There was another girl there who giggled as I turned to enter the center. "Should be entertaining."
I nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable under their direct gazes.
I heard the two women conversing in hushed tones before laughing. "I can’t wait. See."
I was beginning to have second thoughts as I approached the gymnasium. I could hear some shouts and clapping as I stood several feet away from the closed door. Did I really want this? It would be embarrassing if there were an audience. I remembered what she said about losing my clothes. But I really wanted their feet.
With that thought in mind, I opened the door. It was until the door closed behind me that I saw about ten women sitting around on benches placed around a large floor mat. Five or six women were playing basketball at the other end of the gymnasium, and stopped playing as the door slammed shut. They stared and smiled at me.
"It’s about time," yelled Paige. "I thought you’d chickened out."
I approached. "Sorry I’m late."
I noticed the women were smiling, some whispering to one another and laughing amongst themselves. If only I’d known what they knew, I would have high-tailed it out of there. I noticed Haley, in addition to another big-boned woman who could have been around 5’10’’. Some of them looked like body-builders but I was still bigger than them.
But when Haley and the other woman stood up to join Paige, I suddenly felt concerned. I could sense their eagerness to kick my ass. And they smiled as if they knew something I didn’t know, and reveled in it.
"Why don’t I wrestle one of you first."
"A deal is a deal, mister," remarked Paige, her arms crossed. "You bragged. So let’s see if you have what it takes."
I stepped onto the mat, and, without warning, Haley rushed me, almost knocking me to the mat. But I grabbed her in a headlock before falling to the floor. These women were far more aggressive than I imagined. She was trying to pin me but I was too strong for her.
And then the other woman, Vicki, approached, grabbing at my arms. But I squirmed free, managing to roll on top of Haley and pinning her to the mat. Believing the point mine, I relaxed my guard, only to be surprised by Haley who threw herself on top of me. We struggled before I turned her around onto the mat.
And then I couldn’t believe what happened. Someone had grabbed my balls and started squeezing. I tried to squirm free but the grip tightened.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. "You can’t do that."
"No rules," said Paige with a giggle. "Remember."
As I turned onto my back, her grip loosened, and then I stumbled backwards as Vicki threw herself on top of me. I felt myself bump into two of the women sitting on the bench. And then came my next surprise. Two of the spectators grabbed me by the arms.
It was too late. I struggled to free myself, but it gave Haley enough time to climb on top of me and push my back to the mat.
"Point," yelled Haley, her arms in the air.
"Take off his shoes," said Paige. And Vicki did just that. "Next point, he forfeits another article."
"You’re not playing fair."
"No one said this would be fair."
I stood up, only to be set upon by Paige and Vicki simultaneously. But Haley had been crouching behind me, and the force of their sudden onrush sent me flying over Haley and back onto the floor. Jackie jumped on top of me. We wrestled and I rolled her over onto her back; but she maintained the momentum until I was once again on my back.
Before I could object, Haley squatted down, seating herself onto my face. "Point," exclaimed Haley again. There was applause.
"What should he forfeit now?" asked Paige. "Socks, shirt … pants." There was laughter before the women began to chant "pants, pants, pants."
I could feel Paige fiddling with my belt buckle. She was going to take off my pants in front of all of those women. The giggling didn’t help matters, and I struggled, even as Haley squeezed my face between her thighs. I think I managed to throw Vicki off, but by that time, Paige had already unzipped my pants and was beginning to slide them down my legs. I grabbed her arm.
But then several of the spectators jumped to their feet to help. Three or four women were tugging at my pant legs. I grabbed, trying to maintain my dignity for a moment longer. But I couldn’t do it. I let go and they whisked my pants off with a loud cheer. I could see the women tossing my jeans around in the air.
Haley released my face, gazing down at me. "Feeling like an idiot yet?"
Yes, I was. "Alright, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you can beat me."
"No more fight in you?" asked Paige. "An asshole, perhaps. But I never mistook you for a coward. Besides, once you start a game, you have to finish it."
I stood up, turning to leave; but Haley and Vickie grabbed me. I threw them off, and stormed off, but then noticed that the six female basketball players had collected round, blocking my exit. They smiled. "Where do you think you’re going," asked one, dribbling a ball.
I turned to Paige, but was greeted by Vicki and a knee to the groin. It felt like my balls were coming out of mouth. I just fell to my knees and doubled over. Not leaving me to suffer my pain in peace, Haley and Vickie dragged me back to the mat whereupon Vicki jumped atop me, seating herself on my chest.
"Fuck you," I yelled. And then Vicki slapped me hard in the face. I couldn’t believe it.
"Point," exclaimed Haley again. Vicki then turned around and seated herself on my face as Haley begin to pull my shirt and undershirt up. I had enough fight in me yet to push Vicki from my face, but Paige was already helping Haley remove my shirt. Someone was holding my shoulders to the mat with a shoe.
"That’s two articles," I said as my shirt and undershirt were pulled up over my face. And then they left it there. I lifted myself up and reached for my face. I couldn’t see with the shirt over my eyes. But before I could pull it off, several women threw themselves on top of me. I’d been pinned again.
‘Score," yelled Haley. The applause was deafening.
Someone yanked the shirt free, just in tome for me to see Paige and Haley reaching for my boxers. She tugged, but I grabbed for them.
One of the basketball players then pressed a high top onto my face. I released a hand to push the shoe away, but not before another sneaker found my face, pressing onto it. I needed both hands to push their dirty shoes from my face. And then it was too late.
Paige had torn the boxers from my body and hoisted them into the air. "To the victor, come the spoils." I flushed read all over. I could feel it. I automatically reached for my groin, cupping my hands over my shame as the women laughed and stomped their feet on the floor. Some whistled at me.
‘Alright, just let me have my clothes back," I asked. "You’ve made your point."
"Oh," said Paige. "We’ve only just begun. Besides, you’ve forfeited your clothes."
"Come on," I asked, unable to look anyone in the face.
And then Paige climbed on top of me. I raised myself to push her off, but women were grabbing my arms and legs. I couldn’t move. Paige leisurely took a seat on my bare chest, placing her sneaker-covered feet on either side of my face.
"Now, as a special surprise, I spent the last several days getting our feet as sweaty and stinky as possible. Just to thoroughly rub our superiority in your face." Paige began to unlace her Adidas. "Perhaps a little time under my dirty feet will make you think twice about making ludicrous boasts."
I could already smell the pungent odor of stale cheese popcorn as her shoe fell to the floor. I had one glimpse of her soiled size 9, glistening with sweat, as she pressed it onto my face. It was warm and oily and she pressed the ball of her foot up against my nostrils.
"Smell that," she said.
"Damn, girl, your feet stink," remarked Renee. "Squeeze his nose."
And Paige did just that, cupping them over my nose and demanding a have a good whiff. I didn’t have much choice, what with her sole over my nose. I wouldn’t have minded, had her feet not been so pungent, but I was smelling stale foot sweat and well-worn sneaker. It was degrading, not exciting. She had long, slender feet with agile toes, and the was already giving my face a good working over. I tried to turn my face away, but she already had another foot free of her sneaker and was working it into my face.
The women were cheering her on as she slid one set of toes over nose to be sniffed and then other, holding them there until she heard me breath. I thought getting stripped was humiliating, but being forced to smell her unwashed feet was just as uncomfortable. She was enjoying it too much.
"Smell my stinking feet, loser," she yelled.
The odor of stale foot sweat was sharp. But worse was seeing her satisfied face as she wiggled her moist, cheesy toes over my nose, ordering me to smell them. I could see dirt between her toes and the sole of her foot was rough and caked with dirt. Shoving two toes up my nose, she told me to sniff. I could barely breathe, trying to draw some air inside and smelling nothing but her stale-smelling toes.
Resting a heel over my mouth, she ordered me to start licking. "It’s tradition. The loser licks the winner’s feet. We’re only having you smell them because a man needs a little added humiliation." I reluctantly extended a tongue only to have her grind her heel into my mouth until my tongue covered it.
It as bitter and salty. And as I sucked on her heel, she scrunched my nose between her grubby, stinking toes over her other foot. "You can smell those while you lick my other foot clean."
Lick her filthy foot clean? This was far more than I’d bargained for. I’d never expected her feet to be this dirty or rank. It wasn’t how I’d imagined it. It wasn’t supposed to be humiliating.
But lick her feet I did, and when she shoved her sweaty toes into my mouth, I sucked and licked, while she rubbed her sour-smelling toes over my nose.
"If you don’t feel like a loser now," added Paige, admiring her clean foot. "Just wait until you’re done with everyone’s feet."
"Everyone?" I asked in disbelief.
"When Haley and Vickie are done, everyone else can have some fun." Some of the girls howled and applauded.
"This is going to be one smelly lesson for you," said Renee who was one of the girls holding my arms. I struggled to free myself, but the women held me too tight. I just sat and watched as Haley straddled me and began to unlace her Reeboks.
Dropping a damp sweat sock onto my face, she leaned over. "You can start my smelling mine too," she said as she revealed the large size 11 foot I saw the other day. "And they stink, I assure you." Her feet were slightly filthy and I could see the sweat on them. And then her large, long toes found my nose.
Her feet reeked like Fetta cheese and vinegar. They were absolutely caked with sweat and I could barely stomach it. But I had no choice but to breathe through her sweaty toes as she wiggled them over my nose. "Pretty smelly, huh, loser," she remarked with a laugh.
I tried to shake the crusty sock from my face. But then Haley just reached over, grabbed it and began stuffing it into my mouth. I was too surprised to resist until it was too late, and I was practically choking on the dry, musty fumes of days of sweating.
They just laughed at me. Now I couldn’t breath though my mouth. I just took in breath after breath of her pungent, rancid foot odor. Shortly, another warm, stinking foot joined the other, and the Fetta smell, fresh again, filled my senses. I never thought a woman could have such foul-smelling feet.
"I want some good hard sniffs," she explained. I sniffed but only to breathe. Again I tried to struggle, but it was futile. I just watched as she presented the chipped polish of her toenails, pressing her big toes against my nostrils to sniff. "pretty gross, huh," she added with a chuckle. "I wore those shoes and socks four days straight."
The stench from under her nails was nauseatingly sharp. But I had to breathe. And then, yanking the sock from my mouth, she presented my foot to be licked, "according to tradition." I sucked on her wide, rough heels and the tough padded flesh of the balls of her feet, finally licking the dirt from between her toes and sucking on them. She kept insisting I thank her.
"Thank me for letting you clean them" she demanded.
"Thank you," I said before she plunged more grubby, cheesy toes into my mouth. It tasted like she hadn’t washed them in days.
Then, like Haley, Vicki stepped over. But Vickie took to smacking my face about first with her sneakers still on. ‘Kiss them," she insisted. I kissed the soiled soles of her shoes until she was satisfied.
Kicking off one ratty-looking running shoe and then another, she presented me with a pair of soiled sweat socks, the imprint of her feet quite clear. And as she pressed them onto my face, I was astounded not by how damp and encrusted with sweat they were, but by how sour and cheesy they smelled. I could just imagine busy days on her feet as the socks soaked up sweat.
"Smell my stinky feet," she demanded as she shoved a filthy sock into my mouth. I did, and continued to do so as she slid one sock off and then another to reveal a short, pudgy pair of wrinkled, soiled soles. They were slightly calloused too, and felt rough on my face.
"Smell them," she said again, working her toes over my face and grappling with my nose. They smelled like sour milk and popcorn. What disgusted me even more was seeing the dirt under her jagged toenails. This woman rarely took care of her feet, it was obvious. I’d fantasized about beautiful, smooth feet; but this was a nightmare.
Like Haley before her, Vicki put me through the motions of licking them clean. "Sorry they’re so dirty, but you lost after all. Always a price to pay." Her feet were filthy, but no filthier than Haley’s or Paige’s. I cleaned them, even the hard, calloused bits, using my teeth and tongue. The bitter, tart flavor of her days-old foot sweat was a constant humiliation but I had no choice.
When Vickie finished, I hoisted myself up. "Alright, he’s all yours," exclaimed Paige, a bare foot resting on my chest. Paige shoved he to the floor as hands tightened their grip on me. I saw Renee smiling as she leapt onto my chest and untied her shoelaces. "Now my feet are pretty nasty, but I love getting sniffed just like anyone else." Kicking off her canvas sneaker, she presented me with a soiled size 8 foot before pressing it hard onto my face. "Now smell them good, little man."
I’d smelled her pungent, reeking feet before more girls began sliding dirty grubby toes over my nose or into my mouth. It was like some kind of free-for-all and I was overwhelmed by scent and flavor. Some feet were cheesier and more pungent than others. Some incredibly sweaty, others dry. Damp socks were dropped in my face and rubbed about with filthy bare feet. I was too humiliated to know what to think, what with the laughter and the odor.
I noticed some of the basketball players taking off their hightops and getting into the fun, sliding big sweaty feet over my face and ordering me to "have a whiff." They are all fairly tall so it was no surprise that their feet was as big as they were, anywhere between size 10 and 12. They must have been working up quite a sweat because their socks and feet were damp with sweat.
Sweaty toes squirmed into my mouth while others cupped themselves over my nose. For hours, I must have been either sniffing someone’s cheesy toes or licking their sweaty, grimy feet, hearing comments amount how stinky their feet were and that they smelled more than they thought they would. They would take turns rubbing their sweat socks in my face and even holding their rancid-smelling high-tops over my nose.
It came as a surprise when Paige told me I was free to go. I lay stunned on the floor for a moment, brushing a ratty sneaker from my face and stood up.
Then I stood up, beaten and humiliated. I didn’t even bother to conceal my privates with my hand.
"Thanks for being such a good sport about it," said Paige, with a slap to my bare ass. "We don’t often get chances like this here, so it becomes a bit of an event."
"Thanks. That was fun," said Renee with a grin.
"Yeah, thanks for doin’ our feet," added someone else. "I’m impressed. Our feet were thoroughly disgusting this time."
"Yeah, we outdid ourselves this time," added Vicki with a chuckle. "Thanks for joingin in," she said to the basketball players.
"No sweat," said one of them. "We didn’t have to do anything. It was the poor guy had to smell and lick our feet."
I noticed there must have been at least fifteen women in the gymnasium laughing and staring at me. Remembering I was naked but for a pair of dark socks, I clamped my hands over my crotch. They loved it.
Several of the basketball players were sitting on a bench, sliding socks onto their feet and slipping their shoes back on. "Thanks for doing our feet," said one of them. "Hope they weren’t too nasty." They laughed.
"Well, get going," said Paige.
"But my clothes."
"You forfeited them."
"Come on," added Haley. "Get out of here, before we tie you back down and make you lick everyone’s feet clean."
"I didn’t get mine cleaned," remarked one of the basketball players, her soiled bare foot resting atop her sneaker. The thought of licking more salty, vinegary foot sweat nauseated me. Besides, some of them had been walking around the dirty gymnasium floor barefoot.
Unwilling to handle further humiliation so I made for the door, much to the enjoyment of the women present. They whistled as I left.
I raced down the corridors naked, past women coming back from raquetball or the weight room, smiling at the sight of a naked man running around frantic. I’d forgotten the way out, but I wasn’t thinking. And then I found the main lobby. It was packed, so I hovered by the open doorway.
But the women saw me, stifling giggles.
The girl at the front desk turned and saw me. "Well, I hope you learned your lesson, mister. They love breaking down arrogant guys. Hey … aren’t you the electrician?" I shook my head. "Yeah, you’re the electrician guy."
"Could you get me some clothes?"
She grinned as she checked me out. "Come here."
She beckoned me into the main room, in full view of the female staff and clientele. "I just wish I could have joined ‘em. But I had to work."
Producing a paid of short shorts and a skimpy shirt from a drawer, she tossed them to me. I let go of my crotch for a brief moment to catch the clothes, enough time for the women to see my privates. There were gasps and giggles.
My face reddened and I made off with the outfit, putting them on just inside the corridor. The clothes barely fit; and the short were so tight, I couldn’t keep my cock inside them. It was not much improvement on having no clothes at all. But it would have to do. And then as I remembered my car keys, I was Paige. She threw my car keys down the hallway and waved goodbye.
I grabbed the keys and hightailed it out of the Rec. center, never again to return. So, like I said, what seemed like a good idea one day turned out to be the most excrutiatingly humiliating experience of my life. I was punished for being arrogant and I was only pretending.
And yet, to this day, I still fantasize about those women stripping me and forcing their smelly, dirty feet into my face. I guess I could always go back.