Footboy Service

Warning: humiliation, age difference, dirty feet.

Josh and Bryce joined their friend Shane on a warm Saturday afternoon to watch an important game. The three former jocks had been best buddies in high school, and they had not seen each other in months. In their mid-thirties, their once tall and fit bodies had lost a little bit of shape, and gained a good amount of weight, and now they carried a certain rugged masculinity.

Shane had a man cave in his basement, a cozy room with old sofas, an old wooden coffee table, a thick rug, a large TV set on the wall, and a small pool table. He also had a gaming console, a sound system that was gifted by Josh, and a small fridge that Bryce had brought in the previous summer. Their wives were hanging out in the downtown area, shopping and visiting Shane's sister, which meant the three men had the day all for themselves.

The football game started at 1 p. m. and they sat down comfortably and cracked open a few cold beer bottles. Like Shane, Josh and Bryce were wearing shorts and flip-flops, all in different neutral colors. Josh had cargo shorts with military patterns, while Shane and Bryce had opted for more comfortable gym shorts. Shane wore an old tank top, while Josh and Bryce wore t-shirts. Their beer guts stretched the fabrics of each shirt, while their thick thighs spread wide, mostly uncovered.

Although quite similar in body shape and style, what made them differ were their casually masculine faces and the top of their heads. Shane wore a regular cap. Josh wore a cuffed beanie. Bryce sported a buzz cut.

As the game developed and they exchanged comments and humorous remarks, the beer ended and Shane had to walk upstairs to grab more from the kitchen. When he came back, he let out a little frustration.

"I hate having to get up and interrupt something to bring more beer, or more snacks, or whatever," he said, placing the cold bottles on the coffee table. And then added, "Shit, I forgot the snacks."

"Yeah, I know. It's kinda annoying. Sometimes I wish we had a maid to do these things," Josh said.

"Have you guys heard of Footboy Service?" Bryce asked with a smirk on his face.

"Footboy Service?" Shane and Josh repeated in unison.

"Okay, this is only a rumor," Bryce started to explain. "It's like a club for young gay guys, dedicated to serving straight men."

"What? Are you serious?" Shane asked, and let out a chuckle.

"I'm dead serious. Apparently they have an app and everything, where straight men can choose a local footboy to do house chores, wash cars, et cetera."

"What do they get in return?" Josh asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Okay, this is the weird part. They don't accept money," Bryce replied.

"Then what, cum?" Shane asked, and they laughed along.

"Foot worship," Bryce explained. "They have a thing for big straight feet. So they serve you for a day, and then kneel and start rubbing and kissing your feet."

"Oh, really? That doesn't sound bad," Shane observed. "Being served and then getting a foot rub... it's a win-win."

The three men continued to watch the game for a while, the idea of the strange Footboy Service seemingly fluctuating in their minds, until Josh decided to say something.

"You know what? We should get a footboy."

"Are you serious?" Shane asked. "This sounds like some gay kink. These guys must be weird or something."

"Why don't we have a look? If there's really an app..." Josh grabbed the phone from his own pocket and searched for it.

It took them only a few seconds to find the app Bryce was talking about. It came out as the first option. The logo was a white bow tie with a baby pink background. The description said: "Footboy Service is a free resource that seeks to link masculine straight men with available young gay men for domestic service. Pay by offering your big feet for rubs and worship - we accept size 12 and bigger."

"Size 12 and bigger, huh?" Shane observed slowly. "We all have size 13s, so we can all apply."

"Alright, I'm making an account," Josh said.

Shane shook his head in disbelief and Bryce chuckled on the other side. Josh added his name and his e-mail, and posted a few pictures of himself and his friends - mostly selfies and photos taken in the backyard, from the last barbecue, including a picture of Shane flipping off the camera.

On their profile, he included a short description, with Bryce's help: "Group of three straight friends, former high school jocks, tall and heavy, size 13 feet, looking for a good house boy to serve beer and food, and clean up the basement."

To everyone's surprise, the area they were in offered a diverse cast of footboys. Josh scrolled down the available options and showed the photos to his friends. It was a collection of young gay men, healthy-looking twinks, displayed with verified names that followed the same pattern: "footboy#1186, 22 years old", "footboy#1244, 20 years old", "footboy#1292, 18 years old."

"The 18-year-old looks decent," Bryce pointed out, and they analyzed the photos of a freckled ginger with small shoulders and a skinny body.

"He looks like a twig, though," Shane observed.

"It's better that way. If he tries anything funny, we can easily overpower him," Josh said.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we could throw him around like a ragdoll," Bryce added, with a mean smirk.

"Oh look, here it says he likes being bullied a little," Josh pointed at footboy#1292's profile.

The men read the boy's bio in disbelief, and looked at each other with mean smirks on their faces: "Young and very obedient footboy, interested in doing house chores like cooking and cleaning, as well as washing cars. Enjoys giving long foot rubs and being bullied a little. Looking for cocky straight men, the manlier the better."

"So we bring in this sissy boy and mess with him a little, like the good old days in high school?" Bryce suggested.

"Dude, we're grown men. We can't act like high school assholes," Shane said.

"Yeah, I think we should be respectful. If the boy is willing to serve us, we should build trust," Josh added.

"Come on, just a little bit of banter. The boy likes it," Bryce insisted.

"Okay, but don't go over the top, man. My house, my rules," Shane replied.

"So we're doing this?" Josh asked, and they all looked at each other and laughed. Then Josh scrolled down the footboy's profile and pressed "Hire".

To their delightful surprise, footboy#1292 arrived twenty minutes later. Shane walked to the front door and opened the door to welcome a short ginger, wearing all white: a white dress shirt, tucked inside white shorts, white sneakers and mid-calf white socks. He also wore a silver chain with a dog tag that was marked with his footboy code.

"Good afternoon, sir," the boy said in a soft and docile tone.

"Hey, buddy, come in," Shane said politely.

The boy seemed respectful and interested in knowing a little bit about Shane and his friends. The man inquired the boy about a few personal details, to make sure they could trust each other, like what he expected from their interactions, how long he had been serving straight men, and which neighborhood he lived in.

Shane was fairly satisfied with the answers. The boy seemed reasonable enough, answering each question calmly - although using a gay tone - with a certain detached tone of a real servant. The only strange thing Shane noticed was the fact that the young man seemed to look down a lot. "He must be shy," the man thought.

In reality, the footboy was rather impressed by the huge manly hunk in front of him. He had never served a man that impressive before. And when he followed Shane down the stairs, into the basement, and saw the other two men sitting comfortably on the couch, his heart skipped a beat: Josh and Bryce were equally large and masculine, and they all had big feet. It was a footboy's dream come true!

"Leave your shoes in the corner," Shane ordered. "And then you can start serving us."

"Yeah, serve us some beer and prepare some snacks while we watch the game," Josh explained, raising a positive thumb in the air.

"And be very respectful. We're your superiors from now on," Bryce added, winking mischievously.

"Yes, sirs, of course," the footboy answered quickly, making the men chuckle.

The young servant left his white sneakers at the bottom of the stairs, and walked in white socks across the room, grabbing some beer bottles from the fridge and offering them to the men.

"Would you like some ice as well, sirs?" he asked.

"Good idea," Shane approved.

"Alright, I'll be back soon," the boy said, looking down, and walked upstairs.

The men looked at each other while he was gone. They all shrugged and smirked mischievously.

"He seems like a decent footboy," Josh observed, prompting the others to laugh.

"Yeah, he's a docile buddy," Shane added.

The boy came back fifteen minutes later, carrying a large plate with fat sandwiches, a jar of fresh orange juice, and a small bucket of ice. He also brought a small variety of sauces he found in the kitchen. Each man grabbed a sandwich and he filled their glasses with juice.

The food was rather tasty, and the men complimented him and assumed he was probably used to serving lots of men. Bryce snapped his fingers and told the boy to stand in a corner, as the men devoured their food and talked about the game. After a while, they almost forgot about him. They placed their empty glasses on the coffee table, and he collected them in silence and washed them in the kitchen.

When he came back, the halftime had just started and Bryce stood up, slapped his beer gut and entered the small restroom in the back of the basement. Shane talked to a work colleague over the phone, while Josh crossed his ankles on top of the old coffee table and pointed at them suggestively.

The footboy did not waste his time. He went to his knees, sitting on his legs and started rubbing the man's size 13 sweaty feet. Josh's soles were slightly dirty with debris, as all the men had removed their flip-flops and spread their toes comfortably over the wooden floor. Meanwhile, the boy could hear the sound of piss hitting the toilet water in the distance.

The footboy performed all the usual movements he had learned from a foot massage course specially designed for men. Rubbing the ball of the foot, as well as the arch, with his thumbs, applying good pressure over the callused areas. Then doing circles around the massive heels, pressing his knuckles intensively against the sole, and using his fingers to stretch the toes one by one, and even sliding his fingers between the toes, to cause a relaxing sensation.

Josh was rather impressed and extremely relaxed with the massage, as the boy moved from one foot to the next, changing foot every two minutes. The servant's dainty hands and fingers were particularly soft, and felt great on his hard-working calluses.

"Damn, he's really good at this," Josh said. "The boy has very soft hands, but they add a good amount of pressure."

"Thank you, sir. I have a strict routine to moisturize my hands, using three different types of lotions every day, and exfoliation every weekend," the footboy explained automatically.

"You groom your hands so you can give better foot massages?" Shane asked.

"Yes, sir, of course. Rubbing men's feet is my favorite hobby."

The two friends looked at each other and shrugged humorously.

"To each their own, I guess," Josh said.

Shane raised his heavy right leg and placed his big foot on the other side of the table. He wiggled his toes to tempt the footboy.

"Show me how good you are, then," the house owner ordered.

"Yes, sir, right away," the boy answered, applying a final stretch to Josh's feet that caused a moan of relaxation from the man.

He moved quickly to Shane's size 13 foot. That one was slightly hairier and dirtier than Josh's. Shane had walked barefoot in the backyard during his morning exercise, and his soles had hints of grass and debris.

Shane gasped and sat back, spread his legs wider and placed his hands behind his head. He was also surprised by the thorough foot rub. The submissive servant not only had a great technique of applying pressure and rubbing the more sensitive spots, but his eager rhythm caused a certain feeling of power in the person being massaged. Bryce came back from the restroom and observed the boy as he rubbed Shane's right foot and then swiftly moved to the left one.

"Wow, he's good at worshiping feet, huh?" Bryce observed.

"Yep, that's what he's doing. Not only massaging, but worshiping my feet," Shane observed. "I feel like a king right now."

"You are a king, sir," the boy said.

The three men chuckled at the boy's submissive tone.

"He thinks we are kings," Josh said slowly. "Why is that, buddy? Is it because we're straight?"

"Straight, tall, strong and smart, sirs," footboy#1292 replied. "It is my pleasure to make you feel like the kings you are."

"Aw, what a sissy fag," Bryce teased, a mean grin on his face.

"Bryce, we don't have to use slurs," Shane said.

"But that's what he wants, isn't it, footboy?" Bryce asked.

"I'm happy with any words you have for me, sirs," the boy replied, blushing a little.

"Yeah, but I think fag is going a little too far," Josh observed. "How about just sissy?" he asked the boy.

"Sounds g-good, sir," the boy stuttered, and then added meekly. "Just sissy, sir."

The men could not help but laugh. Shane wiggled his long toes in front of the boy's nose and called him a sissy a few times, to see how the boy would react. He seemed to enjoy it, blushing like a tomato and shaking excitedly. The masculine teasing around him was clearly having an effect on his meek body.

When the boy was finally done massaging Shane's feet, applying a good amount of stretching to his arches, and making the man feel super relaxed and confident, Bryce snapped his fingers and pointed to his feet on the floor.

"It's your lucky day, sissy," he said as he wiggled his toes. His feet were also size 13's, but veinier, and they were the dirtiest of the bunch. "I hope you don't mind my dirty feet. I didn't have time to wash them yesterday," he grinned.

The boy could definitely smell a hint of foot sweat and manly musk coming from those big toes in front of him. He looked at the darkened soles, covered with a thin layer of dirt and debris, as well as sock lint between the toes, and his mouth watered. When he tried to reach for the right foot, Bryce stopped him.

"Wait, I think I forgot to flush my piss," he said. "Boy, do me that favor, before you start rubbing," he grinned again, prompting the other two men to chuckle.

"Of course, sir, right away," the boy stood up.

"Bryce, you slob, you're really gonna make the boy flush after you?" Shane said.

"That's why he's here, right? To make everything easier for us," Bryce argued.

A minute later, the men heard the muffled sound of the toilet being flushed, and they could not help but chuckle. Shane thought it was particularly funny, and his eyes watered a little.

The boy came back and assumed his position on the floor again, and started rubbing Bryce's feet, as Josh stood up and stretched his big gut. He also needed to piss, and as the foot rub continued, they could suddenly hear the sound of loud piss hitting the toilet water - Josh had clearly left the door open for extra impact, causing Shane to laugh more.

"Damn, sissy, you're good at rubbing alpha feet," Bryce observed.

"I know, right? The sissy is a professional," Shane complimented. "He even exfoliates his hands to make them smoother."

"Pff, what a sissy thing to do," Bryce taunted, and then wiggled his toes to provoke more. "Do you like that, buddy? Like when I bully you a little?"

"Y-yes, sir, thank you," the footboy stuttered and rubbed even better.

"Oh, yeah, look at him applying extra pressure. That's how you stimulate him. Right, sissy bitch?" Bryce sang shamelessly.

"Yes, sirs, being bullied by alphas makes me happy," footboy#1292 explained.

Josh came back from the restroom and sat heavily on the couch, just as Bryce decided to raise his right foot a give a few foot slaps of approval to the boy's cheek.

"Good - little - sissy," Bryce added, one word for each foot slap. "Keep - serving - real - men."

"Thank you, sirs!" the boy chanted excitedly. He looked happier than ever.

"Oops, boys, I forgot to flush," Josh said all of a sudden, prompting Shane to laugh even harder.

"Hey, foot bitch! Heard that? Fetch!" Bryce commanded.

"Go flush my piss, sissy friend," Josh added warmly and winked.

"Thank you, sir!" the boy added, a little too eloquently.

As soon as they heard the sound of the toilet flushing again, the three men laughed their asses off. Shane had more tears in his eyes. He could not believe there were boys who enjoyed flushing a real man's piss! The thought was simply hilarious to him, or maybe it was all the beer he had drunk.

The boy came back and kept rubbing Bryce's feet, this time applying big movements of adoration to the rough soles. He was clearly impressed by Bryce's ability to bully and belittle him the right way. Bryce looked at the footboy and winked, making him blush. The game was about to resume, and the boy applied the last sequence of intense stretching to Bryce's toes, and then slowly slid his fingers through them, provoking a special kind of relaxation.

"Now it's my turn to piss," Shane stood up quickly.

"More beer and ice, sissy boy," Josh ordered.

As the boy grabbed more beers from the mini fridge and served them with ice cubes, he could hear a very long piss in the distance, and a loud fart at the end. Josh and Bryce cracked up at the obvious teasing. The boy could only blush harder.

When Shane came back, he had a dumb smirk on his face, looking at the footboy suggestively.

"Did you forget to flush, as well, sir?"

"You're damn right I did!" Shane replied.

The three men let out some jeers.

"You better flush my piss, boy!" Shane barked in a humorous manly tone.

The boy ran to the toilet again, and looked down at the yellow water that had filled its inside. Like the previous two loads of man water, Shane's piss was ripe and bubbly, smelling of pure beer. It had that particular smell of a masculine man's piss, the type of pheromones only big men have. His mouth watered a little, as he flushed the toilet.

When the footboy came back into the man cave, he was ordered to make three buckets of popcorn, so the friends could watch the rest of the game comfortably, all cozy and relaxed, after having their big feet rubbed, taking a long piss, and drinking more cold beer.

When the boy came back with the popcorn, and some salt in case the men needed more, he stood in the corner again, and became invisible for a while. Then Shane looked around, snapped his fingers, and gave him an order that made his dick twitch.

"Hey, sissy boy, go wash my truck outside," he said casually.

So footboy#1292 walked out of the house and spent the next hour carefully cleaning every grain of dust off Shane's large truck. He felt strangely happy and excited, and eager to serve those three men even more. He could not believe his luck. Shane's truck was as robust as its owner, and the boy imagined the three friends chilling inside that vehicle and driving to bars at night.

After a lot of water and soap, he found a clean cloth and almost worshiped the surface of the man's vehicle, making sure it was as spotless as possible. He had an impulse to ask for the keys and clean the interior, but he decided to see if the men needed anything else instead.

When he came back, looking a little sweaty, the game was finally over, and the men sat on the couch comfortably, talking and laughing as if they had forgotten about him. Shane suddenly saw him standing in the corner, and grinned.

"Come here, footboy," he asked warmly, placing his feet over the coffee table again. "Kiss each of our big toes and say thank you. If you do it right, we'll let you give one lick to each of our soles, right boys?"

"Yeah, come on, footfag, kiss our toes to impress us," Bryce raised his feet and wiggled his toes in the air.

"A proper smooch and a thank you for each big toe," Josh explained. "And then a good lick, if you're lucky." And winking, he added, "It was my idea."

The boy crawled to his knees in front of the three alphas, and reached for the first pair of big feet. Shane crossed his ankles and watched with a smirk on his face, as the gay boy slowly kissed each of his big toes and said a clear thank-you-sir for each.

"Good boy, now kiss mine," Josh said, spreading his legs in the middle of the table. "And say 'Thank you, sir. I'm a foot fairy, sir'."

The footboy moaned and felt himself pulsing in his pants. He did as he was told again, placing a good smooch over each big toe, and looking at Josh with eager eyes.

"Thank you, sir. I'm a foot fairy, sir!" he said twice, for each smooch.

"Yeah! Good sissy boy!" the men said almost in unison.

"Now kiss mine," Bryce said, raising his feet in the air and wiggling his dirty toes provokingly, and then placing his pairs next to Shane's and Josh's large feet. "And say 'Thank you, sir. I'm a sissy foot fairy, sir. Please let me taste your sole, sir'."

The boy approached Bryce's feet eagerly, but when his lips reached for the first toe, Bryce moved his foot in the air to tease him. The boy followed the foot, turning his head like a dog would, almost in a submissive trance - the smell of manly feet filling up the room. Bryce landed the foot on top of a beer bottle, and the boy was finally able to kiss them.

"Thank you, sir! I'm a sissy foot fairy, sir! Please let me taste your sole, sir!" he repeated, and then followed the other foot until it landed on the rug, lowering his head all the way down and kissing the other big toe. "Thank you, sir! I'm a sissy foot fairy, sir! Please let me taste your sole, sir!" he begged desperately - licking three pairs of size 13 straight alpha feet would be more than enough as a reward.

Bryce placed his soles next to this friend's again, and the coffee table was completely taken by the energy of manly feet. The footboy stared at them in pure ecstasy. He had never seen a sight so orgasmic before.

"You may taste the filth on our soles, sissy bitch," Shane said, after some suspense.

"Thank you, sirs!" the boy replied in a moan, his little wet tongue coming out of his mouth and lapping the first sole - Shane's sole - from the rough heel to the toe.

"Yeah, a nice and long lick, foot fairy! Taste the floor I stepped on!" Shane let out, feeling the power of the situation, as the boy licked both his soles in reverence.

"Yeah, taste all the sweat and dead skin on my size 13s," Josh commanded, feeling good and relaxed. The warm tongue caused a funny feeling as it ran from the bottom to the top, on both soles.

"Now taste mine, sissy fag! Look at them, they're extra dirty, huh? It's your lucky day," Bryce observed, and wiggled his cheesy toes as the boy lapped from his rough heels to his callused big toe, surely taking some dirt with him. Both soles received a proper lick.

"So how do they taste, footboy?" Shane asked with a big grin on his face.

"They all taste like real man's soles, sirs! Thank you for the honor, sirs!" the boy chanted.

"Which one tastes better, fuckface?" Bryce asked, stimulating more jeers.

The footboy looked from one sole to the next, his little brain trying to compute which sole tasted the most masculine and awesome. His dick twitched happily in his shorts, completely unnoticed. Each sole now had a straight wet patch, where his tongue had been, and his mouth was salivating with the combined flavor of them all.

"I... I can't decide, sirs... they all taste genuinely alpha," he confessed, and then added, for effect, "and I won't brush my teeth tonight!"

The men burst out laughing again. Bryce raised his right foot and slapped the footboy's face repeatedly. Shane and Josh grinned and copied their friend, and slapped the boy silly between their three pairs. The footboy did not move away from them, staying on all fours and taking the silly slapping and manly sneers from the three alphas.

After the foot-to-face fun, the men stood up and walked upstairs, preparing to leave. The boy was ordered to clean up the basement, collecting all the bottles, glasses and leftovers, moving everything to its right place, vacuuming the rug and swiping the floor. He also took the opportunity to clean the restroom in the back, drying it to perfection. That way, Shane and his friends would find the man cave completely clean and ready to use the next time.

When the footboy walked upstairs, the men were chatting in the living room. Josh and Bryce were ready to walk outside. They approached the boy, and Josh shook hands with him in a tight grip.

"It was nice meeting you, buddy. Thanks for the service," he said, smirking.

Bryce patted the boy on the shoulder, grabbing him in a possessive warm squeeze.

"Yeah, thanks for being our bitch," Bryce said.

"It was my pleasure, sirs!" footboy#1292 answered, feeling pleased with himself.

When the two men left, Shane walked up to the boy, more closely, his height towering over the boy several inches. Shane looked down, rested his hands on his own hips, and smirked.

"Well, it was nice using you today. I might call you back the next time. Sounds good?" he asked, staring deeply.

"Y-yes, sir, please! I would love to serve you again," the boy almost teared up.

"Alright, be safe," Shane nodded, and then added, "and since you enjoy being bullied, how about that..." He hocked a loogie and spat right in the boy's face.

The footboy gasped in surprise, and his heart accelerated, as the hot saliva dripped from his forehead, and down his nose and lips. Shane grinned and nodded in silence, now much more comfortable in his alpha skin.

"Thank you, sir!" the boy chanted.

"You're welcome, little sissy. Now go home and jerk off to this."