THE BUS TRIP

THE BUS TRIP
By Author Unknown

"Excuse me?" I asked, politely but impatiently. "Is there a problem?"
The two women glanced briefly back at me, then continued chatting
lightly. I waited for about fifteen seconds before getting up and
walking to the front of the bus to confront the driver directly.

"Is there a problem with the bus?" I asked again, a tone of annoyance
creeping into my voice.

"Why?" the driver asked flippantly, "are you in a hurry to get
somewhere?"

"I'd like to get home at some point!" I replied, sighing in
frustration.

"Make him ask nice," the younger woman taunted, snapping her gum
obnoxiously. "Make him get down on his knees!" The bus driver
cracked a bold smile at the suggestion.

"Yes," she mused confidently, glancing at the other woman and then
fixing her gaze on my face. "If you want me to drive you, get down on
your knees." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. However, I
couldn't deny that the suggestion sent a rush of excitement through
me, and besides, I rationalized, it _was_ pouring down rain outside,
and I didn't have much of a choice. Without another word, I knelt
down in front of the bus driver, who had shifted around in her seat to
face me. She smiled triumphantly at this gesture of my submission.

"Good!" she pronounced casually. "If you want me to drive this bus,
you're going to have to kiss the hands that steer it." She held out
her hands to me with spread fingers. I began to reach up to cradle
them tenderly, but suddenly, the other woman grabbed my arms from
behind and held them back in an uncomfortable arm lock- I probably
could've broken loose, but had little desire to at this point.

Leaning my head forward, I began spacing light kisses over
the backs of her hands, tracing my tongue up and down her fingers,
and then at her urging, taking each finger into my mouth, sucking
it entirely. She seemed pleased by this attention, stroking my
cheek with one hand while I sucked and licked the fingers of the
other. After having tended to each finger in this way, she
lightly cupped each hand over my face, inviting me to lick and
kiss each palm in turn.

"Now," she explained, leaning back once more, "if you want me
to move this bus, you must kiss the feet which make it go." As
she spoke, she crossed one leg up onto the thigh of the other and
unlaced her black leather sneakers. As my attention was drawn to
this- specifically when I noted she wore only nylons beneath her
shoes, the other woman loosened her grip for only a moment, long
enough for her to quickly snip a pair of handcuffs around my wrists.

"Don't worry," this other woman taunted in a mocking voice, "we won't
hurt you." The bus driver grinned smugly once more, slipping one
sneaker off her stockinged foot. The smell of gamy sweat and leather
immediatly filled my nose, and I instinctively tried to turn my head
away as she stuck the dingy nylon sole of her foot in my face; I
couldn't believe how strong it smelled!

A second later, the other woman grabbed me by the back of the hair and
painfully twisted my head to face forward, and I soon found an
overpoweringly stinky foot jammed up against my nose and mouth.

"SMELL IT!" the bus driver barked firmly, and I instinctively inhaled,
my nose wrinkling up as her powerful foot odor struck me full force.
I was helpless before the pungent aroma of grimy, sweaty toes, being
urged by both women to smell harder. My resolve quickly broke down as
my senses were overwhelmed by her stinky, smelly nylon-covered sole
being rubbed all over my face. At last, when I was about to break
down entirely, my senses embraced a hidden undercurrent to her foot
odor; an erotic animal smell which seized my whole body.

I suddenly, spontaneously gave myself entirely to smelling her foot.
I did not deny that it was sweaty and disgusting, and I was fully
aware that the nylon sole was dingy and obviously unwashed, but I
fervently breathed in, filling my senses with her gross, stinky smell,
shameless worshipping the aroma with my entire being.

After several minutes of this, she pulled her foot away without
warning. I looked up at her proud face, vulnerably and fearfully,
cowering expectantly as she studied me casually.

"I'm giving you a choice," she instructed after a brief silence. "I
can drive you home now, and never bring this up again, and promise you
that my feet will never touch you again. Or," she paused dramatically
for a moment, "you can beg for more."

"I think I'd like that," I meekly confessed, my eyes nervously on the
floor.

"I hardly call that begging," she taunted. The other woman was now
stroking her fingers through my hair, popping her gum in my ear,
obviously enjoying the show.

"May I," I ventured, "I mean, will you please control me and make me
do things, and make me obey you?" My voice was literally trembling,
and each word was an effort.

"Do things? What kind of things? Like sniffing my smelly old feet?"

"Yes Ma'am. Yes please. I'd like that if you would force me
to smell your feet."

"Do you like the way they smell?" she teased in a sing-song voice.
"It- excites me."

"My feet _stink_," she pronounced bitterly. "I rarely wash them, and
I never wash my hose, and I know full and well how they stink up a
shoe. They are hot and sweaty, and frankly, I'm surprised Dee-Dee
here didn't gag as soon as I popped my shoe off." The other woman
tugged at my wrists, bringing her mouth close to my ear.

"Mine don't smell so nice either," Dee-Dee whispered teasingly into my
ear.

"Please make me smell them!" I gasped suddenly to both women,
whimpering and moaning with the strange sexual energy I was consumed
by. Without another word, the bus driver picked her black sneaker up
off the groung and presented its warm, aromatic insole to my face. I
eagerly buried my nose into the shoe and inhaled vigorously, kissing
the filthy, sweat-stained foam insole between hungry sniffs.

Dee-Dee laughed and cheered me on, taunting and urging me to totally
humiliate myself for the women's idle pleasure. The bus driver, whose
sneaker I shamelessly worshipped, merely gazed down at me with a wry
grin of triumph and contempt. I impulsively threw myself at her
stocking feet, prostrate and helplessly paying tribute to her smelly,
worn shoe.

"Enough!" she commanded, calmly but firmly. I placed the shoe on the
ground and awkwardly cast my eyes on the floor in nervous silence.
"Dee-dee, uncuff one of his wrists." I felt her free one of my arms,
but made no effort to move.

"If you want to please me," the driver instructed, "take off your
clothes- everything but the underwear." I awkwardly obeyed, slipping
off my shirt and pants. I shivered slightly on the cold, damp floor
of the bus.

"Cuff yourself to the bottom of the driver's seat," she ordered. "I
want you to crawl under the seat and watch my feet while I drive." I
nervously assumed such a position, feeling more vulnerable with each
moment, but unwilling to trade it for the world. "You can sniff my
shoe if you want, just to remind you what my feet smell like while you
watch them." I silently brought her sneaker to my nose and focused my
attention silently on her feet; the left foot still was shod, while
the right was stocking clad. Without another word, she turned and
started the bus moving again- it was tremendously exciting watching
her stocking foot work the huge gas pedal of the bus, flexing and
pumping, while I worshippfully sniffed her warm, stinky shoe - a
constant reminder of just how those feet smelled.

"I'm taking him back to your apartment until the end of my
shift, okay?" Once the bus was in motion, neither woman paid any
direct attention to me, talking about me as if I wasn't even
present.

"Sure," Dee-Dee agreed, popping her gum loudly. "I'll teach him some manners. Maybe if he's a good little doggy, I'll let him take off my
Adidas and clean the black gunk from between my stinky-ass toes."

I had a long evening ahead of me.


Unknown