STINKFOOT AND THE BIKER CHICKS

By Byron

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Another Stinkfoot story comes to me courtesy of the man who was a victim of of one of her pranks. The story takes place, presumably during the end of her college years, or possibly just after her graduation from college. Stories had been circulating at school about how many of the men who crossed her path were subjected to not only her foot stink but those of her willing and often enthusiastic female accomplices. But most of her pranks were legitimzed as customary for pledge week. As part of a rowdy sorority, she'd persuaded some of the local frats to offer up their pledges to her mischievous agenda. And on many occasion, poor freshman boys were delievered to the soroties, stripped by the sisters and held down while co-ed after co-ed rubbed her sweaty, stinky feet over the young men's faces. The boys were not allowed to leave until they'd thoroughly sniffed the feet of ever giggling sister.

But these activities came but rarely, and Stinkfoot needed diversions for the rest of the year. And she couldn't rest until she had man's nose squeezed between her sweaty toes; nothing gave her more pleasure than to run her cheesy toes under a man's nostrils and to listen to him inhale the odor. During and even after college, she worked part-time at a book store, and it was her fantasy to convert her male co-workers into toe-sniffing and footlicking slaves crawling around on their hands and knees. Nothing would have pleased her more than to have her co-workers dive at her feet for the honor of removing her sneakers and rubbing her moist sock feet on their faces. And as she contemplated how she could use her co-workers to indulge her fetish for forcing men at her feet, the solution cam in the form of a young college grad who repeatedly asked her out only to be repeatedly turned down.

But when the undaunted young man, we'll call him Paul as I wouldn't want to reveal his true identity, invited her on a trip to Las Vegas, Miranda Stinkfoot readily agreed. It may have been Spring break or the long vacation that begins after graduation; and Stinkfoot thought that such a trip could offer her some interesting opportunities. She had a friend in Las Vegas who was a member of a female-only biker gang and the women would bike around the desert for hours, sometimes making suggestive remarks to the attractive young men who were traveling alone.

And so Paul and Miranda took off for Las Vegas. And, needless to say, Miranda made a concerted effort to get her feet as stinky as possible before the trip, wearing her raunchy old sneakers, and knowing that she would have to find some way to force Paul to smell and lick off the toejam. She knew her biker friend could persuade her biker buddies to help.

They arrived in Las Vegas, and she raised Paul's amorous expectations by agreeing to share a room with him. But she insisted upon visiting her Biker friend, Rhonda, or Ronny as she was called. Paul was more than eager to accomodate her wishes and they proceeded accordingly. Ronny, a beautiful and shapely young woman in jeans and boots, opened the door. And Paul was soon standing in the middle of a room of about ten rowdy young women who had just been sharing a few laughs about their biker boyfriends. They stared him over and one of them informed him that no men were allowed during a biker meeting. The welcome was so hostile that Paul feared grievous bodily harm; so he offered to step outside. Miranda assured him that she wouldn't be long. The women were planning an all-day biking trip after all.

And while Paul sat in the car, Stinkfoot explained what she wanted to do with Paul and asked the other biker women if they'd be willing to help her. One of the women said that they'd gladly hold Paul down while Miranda rubbed her stinky feet in his face. And then another woman asked Miranda if anyone else could get her feet sniffed. Miranda was delighted by the entusiasm. And it didn't take much to persuade these women to humilate Paul with their stinking feet; and so they hatched a plan, to take place at the end of the day. At Miranda's promptings, some of them slipped off their socks and put their boots back on. "But our feet are going to stink so bad if we don't wear socks?" remarked one of the women. "But that's the whole point," explained Miranda Stinkfoot. And everyone laughed.

As the women emerged from the house, they set eyes upon Paul, looking innocent and totally ignorant of his fate, and some of the gang members broke into fits of laughter. Someone remarked that she couldn't wait to get back and kick off her boots. The women couldn't look at him without thinking of what they were planning for him; and the giggles never stopped.

And so the group took off in their bikes. And Paul had been persuaded to ride on the back of Ronny's bike while Miranda rode with one of the other bikers. And they rode for hours under the hot Nevada sun and roaming the desert and stopping only for the occasional snack. Paul had no idea that riding on a bike could work up such a sweat; but in the blistering heat, you could sweat sleeping. And Ronny, who had to push the motorcyle pedals with her feet, was doing far more work than Paul. But the women were having a blast, screaming and holloring as they rode in tight formation down the highway.

After a full afternoon of riding and walking, the gang decided to head back to the city for dinner. After six hours of being on the road, all eleven of them poured into the room, exhausted and sweaty. But were the women were not too exhausted to have their fun with Paul, and they positioned themselves for that evening's festivities. A few of them sat down, remarking on how sore their feet were and how fatigued they were.

And then the gang leader, Raven, spoke up. "So who thinks we should let Miranda and Paul become honorary members of our gang?" There were loud cheers. Paul was surprised that they would be so enthusiastic about making him an honorary member when they'd been so eager to exclude him earlier. But he was flattered. "But honorary members have to be initiated," explained Raven with a wicked smile. There were stifled giggles as Raven approached Miranda and Paul. When Raven remarked that they would only have time to initate one of them that evening, Miranda, according to plan, promptly excused herself. She encouraged Paul to accept the honor; but Paul, in gentlemanly fashion, was willing to step aside to allow Miranda to receive such an honor. But Miranda was persuasive enough to suggest that it would be a tremendous turn-on for Paul to be a member of a biker gang, even if it were a female gang. Miranda was too insistent for Paul to refuse and so Paul agreed to become a member of their gang.

"Your initiation requires you to reveal remarkable endurance," added Raven with a grin. "You should endure something you wouldn't ordinarily endure if you had a choice." Paul hesitated as Raven sidled up next to him and pressed her things to his. In a whisper she spoke, "would you like us to help?" Paul nodded.

Raven stepped away from him. "We've had only one other man become an honorary member; and in the interest of tradition, I think you should endure what he had to endure." there were resounding cheers and whistles from the audience. Paul was getting nervous. Miranda "Stinkfoot" watched with the satisfaction of a woman who would soon get exactly what she wanted.

"Are you willing to show us how manly you are?" Raven asked, grabbing his crotch to the amusement of the women. "Are you prepared to show us that you're as manly as him by enduring what he had to endure?" Paul hesitated. Miranda held on to him to suggest that he rise to the challeenge. "Yes, I'll accept the challenge," he declared. The biker gang stood up and cheered. And Raven grabbed hold of him by his belt, pulling him to her.

"If you're man enough, you'll let us tie your wrists so you won't back out," explained Raven. Paul reassured them that he wouldn't back out but everyone insisted upon this reassurance. Raven vowed not to hurt him, and that he wouldn't have to endure pain. This was all the reassurance Paul needed and he offered up his wrists.

To the high-pitched howls and squeals of delight, Raven roped his wrists quite expertly and affixed the end to a loop on the ceiling, used for hanging plants. There was enough slack so that Paul could pull away or lay on the floor, but he couldn't leave the house without first yanking the loop fixture from the ceiling.

Someone pulled on the rope, and Paul's wrists were pulled up over his head. Then Raven and another gang member pressed themselves against him, caressing his clothed body with their hands.

"Oh, but before we tell you what you have to endure, you'll have to be stripped naked. All initiates are stripped." More cheers. "Come one girls, let's strip him." And they threw themselves upon him from all sides. "No, please," pleaded Paul. But the woen were too busy squeezing him, sliding their hands over his legs and torso to notice what he was saying. And Raven unlooped his belt and slid it from his pants. "Let's get his pants off," remarked Ronny.

And the women did just that. Paul squirmed and struggled to get some slack on the rope but the women held it tight. And another woman was holding his feet together and tying a rope to them to prevent him from kicking. While several of the others gleefully unbuttoned his pants and slipped them down to his ankles. A few titters preceded the removal of his underpants, and Paul was squirming, with his pants around his ankles, his cock bouncing from thigh to thigh, and his shirt unbuttoned as ten women hollered and laughed at his humiliating predicament.

"And now for the test of endurance," muttered Raven between giggles. "Bring him to the floor," she told the others. And the rope fell slack as the biker chicks pulled him to the floor, his wrists and ankles still tied with rope. And retied the rope ends to furniture.

"The test: to smell everyone's feet," laughed Raven. Paul squirmed and begged them to let him go, assuring him that he didn't want the honor of being a member of their gang. But the women held him tightly, and Ronny straddled his chest to prevent him from wriggling away. They had no intention of letting him go. Miranda had explained everything in great detail and described just how much fun it would be to rub their stinky feet on his face. And Paul wasn't going anywhere until they experienced it.

And while Paul struggled, a heavy chair was brought over him, effectively pinning his body to the floor and preventing him from going anywhere. The position of the chair would make it easy for each of the women to kick back, pull off their boots and rub their warm,sweaty feet in Paul's face with relative comfort and ease. Two of the women would hold his wrists and ankles, while the others could bring up chairs to watch the show.

"If you can endure the stench of our feet after we've been wearing out riding boots all day without socks," explained Raven "then you've proven yourself worthy of joining our gang." She looked to the others. "Who's first?" WIthout a remark, one of the prettier bikers - Pam - threw herself onto the chair and placed Paul's head between her booted feet.

"I want him to do my feet first," said Pam. Everyone laughed at her eagerness to humilate Paul with raunchy, musty feet. As she slid each foot out of her boots, there were gasps. She was one of the few women who had chosen to keep her socks on, and she held her slightly dirty sock feet over his face, slowly lowering them. Paul turned his head away; and one of the women pulled up a chair and clamped his head securely within her booted feet. Paul was staring at Pam's sock feet, with the toe imprints, as she wriggled them barely inches above his face.

Pam waved a hand in front of her face and said "my feet smell awful." Some of the others giggled. "Rub them in his face already," insisted Ronny. And with that, Pam planted her warm, moist and cheesy-smelling sock feet directly over his face, and began rubbing them around. She clasped her sock covered toes over his nose and told him to start sniffing her feet and sniffing them loud and clear.

The excitement was electric and they couldn't believe that they were forcing their stinky feet on this guy, and they loved it. And when Pam peeled off one of her damp socks and stuffed it into Paul's mouth, they cheered. Miranda was impressed that these women took so naturally to dominating a man with their feet; some women didn't have to be coaxed to make a guy smell their stinky feet.

"I think we should make sure he's smelling our feet," Pam, explained. "Now every breath you take," remarked Raven "you smell what it might be like to be wedged inside our sweaty boots."

Pam was having a field day rubbing the sock fabric and sweat over his face and clutching his nose with her sweaty toes. And to tell him to smell her sweaty toes and to hear his sudden intake of breath was too much fun. And it wasn't long before Pam was supplanted by another enthusiastic young woman - Linda -who though the idea of making guys smell our feet "too thrilling."

Linda hopped onto the seat, kicked of her boots (which she'd been wearing without socks) and to the endless mirth of the others she pressed her hot, damp, fetid feet covered in black flecks of shoe fabric, onto his face. Raven pulled a face, commenting that Linda's feet stubk to high heaven, and that they smelled faintly of sharp cheddar.

Upon hearing that, Linda promptly told Paul to take a deep breath. And he did. he didn't have much choice. The others cheereed and laughed as Linda wriggled her sweaty toes just over Paul's nose and cupped them, forcing him to sniff the ball of her foot. And, like Pam, she joyfully covered Paul's face with sweat and toejam as she wriggled her sweaty toes over hs entire face, spending most of her time holding the tips of her toes just under his nostrils.

"Smell my feet," Linda proclaimed. She lay back in her seat with her toes planted formly over his nose and pretended to fall asleep. Everyone laughed as Paul took breath after breath of her raunchy, vinegar-scented foot stink. Linda gave his face an affectionate slap with the sole of her foot as she stepped aside for Raven to take a turn.

"If you thought her feet were foul," said Raven. "Just wait 'till I take off my boots." A few others laughed. Linda sat where Raven was sitting, holding Paul's head firmly between hersweaty feet while Raven tried to pry off her boots. It took a full minute just to pull one foot free and her sweaty foot was barely free before vapor could be seen polluting the air just above Paul's face. Others gasped and Linda stepped away, commenting on just how atrocoius her feet smelled. "Leather really makes feet sweat doesn't it," remarked Raven.

"Now these are stinky feet," commented Raven as she admired her sweaty foot. She pulled the other boot free and the rush of foot stink must have assaulted Paul's senses because he was trying to pull his head as far away from her feet as possible. He moaned his potest but the women were too sadistic to let him go without thoroughly sniffing Raven's rancid-smelling feet. "Close your eyes and you can imagine youself inside my boots."

"Pee-you. I'll call them parmesan delight," added Raven, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, as she held her sweaty size nine's above Paul's face. The soul's were dirty and flecks of shoe particles dotted the ball of her foot. Raven promptly pressed her foot onto Paul's face, the ball of her foot just under his nostrils, her toes claping for a toehold on his nose. He struggled, but Linda overcame her distate for the smell by returning to hold his head firmly in her feet.

Raven slid her damp soles back and forth over his face as she playfully rubbed the underside of her dirty toes against his nostrils. "You're showing remarkable endurance," remarked Raven. "Now let me hear you breath in my foot odor." She flexed her toes, luxuriating in the freedom of pressing her sweaty feet onto a man's face, as Paul took breath after breath of noxious stink, redolent of boot leather and acrid sweat. Everyone else wwere far too amused by Paul's ordeal, by his trial by stinky foot, to feel sorry for his predicament. Raven was enjoying herself too much and exploring his entire face with her active toes.

She then planted her toes just over his nose as she lay back, her other foot firmly placed over his face, to relax. For a minute or two she used his face to rest her tired, stinky feet; and she remarked that she felt like a queen. "I should have him lick my sweaty feet clean," she added to everyone's delight; and she reached over to pull the sock from Paul's mouth.

Lick them," sha commanded as she pressed her dirty, sweaty toes over his mouth. Paul, not having much choise in the matter, took her toes into her mouth and sucked on them, licking between her toes to feed on the specks of dirt which had accumulated there. And then she had him suck the dirt and sweat from the ball of her foot; before planting her other foot over his face for the same service, rolling the ball of her foot over his tongue and pressing his tongue between her squirmy toes.

"I can't believe he's licking your dirty feet," remarked Ronny, before pushing Raven from the seat and struggling to pull off her scuffed riding boots. She managed ot free her sweat-soaked feet from her boots and wriggled them over Paul's face as he moaned to begged to be let go. "Not until you thoroughly snif everyone's stinky toes," laughed Raven, now holding Paul's head between her bare feet, which still reeked of sweat and leather. And, like the women who preceded her, Ronny pressed her hot stinky feet onto Paul's face and smeared her sweat and toejam over his face, used her sweaty toes to grapple with his nose, told him to smell her feet, her heel, the ball of her foot, under her toes, under her toenail and to savor the stench. "Now you know what my poor socks have to go through whenever I wear my old riding boots," remarked Ronny gleefully. "His face make a good foot sweat wipe," added someone else. Everyone laughed. "Pretty nasty, huh," said Ronny with a smirk. Paul groaned in agreement; but he could do nothing as Ronny slid her sweaty, dirty bare feet back and forth over his face, and playing footsies with his nose. He stench was redolent of stale cheese and old leather.

And then one after another, the women occupied the hot seat, slid off their boots and revelled inthe freedom of forcing a man to sniff their stinky, cheesy-smelling feet; and two of them with particularly dirty feet from having worn old boots without socks, insisted that Paul clean their soles and between their toes. "It's amazing," remarked one of them "how much dirt accumulates between the toes, if you wear these boots without socks all day." And Paul had to lap it all up. While he sucked on one woman's toes, another women, holding his head still with her feet, would extend her toes over his nose for him to sniff. And from time to time, there would be two women smearing their sweaty, musty, vinegar-smelling feet all over his face.

And when Miranda finally took her place in the seat, she grinned at Paul and told him to prepare for the ultimate feat of endurance. Miranda had been wearing a pair of funky old work boots all day (not to mention the previous day) and when she kicked them off, the potency of the odor enveloped the entire room within seconds and the women were groaning from the strength of the fruity, earthy, cheesy aroma of Miranda's toes. "Those are atrocious," remarked Raven who held a hand over her nose.

Paul attempted to slip from under the chair; but it was poitnless. And soon, miranda was entusiastically smearing her foot sweat into his face and pressing his nose in between her sweaty, dirty toes. "breath it in, but don't faint," remarked Miranda. "I think he will faint," added Ronny. Paul sniffed under Sintfoot's toenails, between her toes, under her toes, and over the ball of her foot and her heel. And she cupped her toes over his nose and everyone was quiet as they listened to Paul's painful effort at inhale such a aggressive foot odor.

Miranda had been waiting for days to finally subject poor Paul to her foot stink, and now she could have him sniff her toes as much as she wanted. She wasn't about to give up her seat to anybody. And after ten minutes of thorough sniffing, her toes cupped over his nose, Paul was then expected to clean the speecs of shoe dirt from the ball of er foot and from between her toes. The women always got a kick out of watching Paul extend his tongue between someone's toes to feed on toejam.

"We should get more honorary members," said Pam. "This is just too much fun." EVeryone agreed, and later thanked Miranda for the wonderful suggestion and for making their evening so memorable. When Miranda explained to them how she wanted to subject more men to her foot stink, the biker sisters wished her the best of luck; and assured her that anytime she wanted to bring a guy around for a little humiliation, not to forget them. WIth or without her, they were determined to subject some more guys to this cruel brand of initiation. "We'll strip 'em and make 'em do our stinky feet," promised Raven. Miranda had acquired more recruits eager to help turn more men into toe-sniffing foot slaves.

"If I'd known this was going to be so much fun, I would have tried to make me feet smellier," remarked Pam. Pam then persuaded Miranda to move aside so that she could get her smelly feet liked clean; and everyone else who didn't get their dirty feet sucked on, then took turns dipping their toes into Paul's mouth and having him clean between their toes. "It feels so good," remarked a few of them as they got their sweaty toes licked.

And when the women finally let Paul go, Miranda and Ronny had to prop him up. "Looks like our stinky feet knocked the wind out of him," laughed Raven. Raven then gave him his clothes, and congratulated him on passing the test. They retained his underpants as a memento of the experience; but gave him a badge which all of the wore on their biker jackets.

Paul had nothing to say as Miranda led him out to the car. He was stunned and had to be reminded that he'd actually spent hours sniffing really foul-smelling feet. But when Miranda told Paul how much it excited her to rub her feet in his face, Paul was quite forgiving. He merely wanted to please her and all he had to do was let her rub her sweaty feet in his face. And, with some more cajoling, Miranda was able to convince Paul to lay on the floor so she could use his face as a rest for her cheesy feet. And in return for Miranda's further attention, Paul would grovel at her feet and sniff her toes loudly enough for her to hear. And for a month, Paul and Miranda had an arrangement which satisfied both of them. Granted, Miranda's foot stink was always overwhelming; but Paul had endured so much already.

But Miranda, or Stinkfoot as she came to be called, had to move on. So many men to dominate with her foot stink, so little time.