Humiliated by the Landlady 16 min read

A few years back I was looking for a place to live. I read the newspapers and called a couple of places. I spoke with a woman at one place who had a room for rent in her new townhouse. Since the rent was in my price range, I arranged a meeting with her.

When I arrived she gave me the cooks tour, showing me all of the facilities and the room that was available. I was 23 and she was a semi-attractive 33. She was tall, dark-haired, and sort of redneckish and simple.

I told her I would take the place and asked when could move in. I moved in the following week. After a few weeks, we got to get to know each other and started getting along fairly well. We would watch TV in the living room in the evenings and I would do my share of things around the house.

One day, she was wearing cut-off shorts, a t-shirt, and some sandals because it was so hot. The month was July. That evening when we were watching some tube, she mentioned that her ankle was stiff and hurting her. I asked if it would help if I massaged it. She said yes only if I wouldn’t mind.

Being a submissive and a foot fetishist, I quickly agreed. I had had only one other ‘close’ encounter with feet in my life, so I was excited. During the next 2 hours, I massaged her ankle and foot.

After some time, she lifted her other foot onto my lap because it was probably more comfortable for her. That foot still had the other sandal on it. I made a comment that it looked pretty ridiculous that one foot had a sandal on and the other didn’t.

She snapped, “So take it off!” I did and she asked me to massage that foot too. I gladly obliged. That was the start of my relationship with her feet. I had hopes that it would go a lot further where her feet would be in my face and not just in my hands.

I had agreed a few days prior, to take a look at the brakes on her car the following day. I jokingly commented that if I had to go out there and get dirty, then at least she should be out there too. I mentioned that she should wear some older clothes, and specifically hinted at old sneakers so they wouldn’t get messed up.

I don’t recall exactly what transpired, but while I was laying on the ground looking at the brakes, I made some comment to her as she was standing over me and watching. She put her foot on my stomach and left it there for a few minutes.

I can remember the feeling of excitement in my gut and also the pulsing in my groin. I had wanted for so long to be under some woman’s feet, and only now had I realized what it was like. When we got inside, I asked her if she wanted some iced tea and went to get it. She was already sitting on the sofa where she always sat. She had just taken off her shoes and was rubbing her feet on the carpet to get the bits off of them.

I quickly asked her if she wanted a massage. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to touch her feet after she had been out in that heat and wearing those old sneakers with no socks. She said, “Sure, if you didn’t mind a little dirt. My feet are all dirty and sweaty from being in these old tennis shoes.”

Of course I didn’t mind, in fact, I preferred them that way, but I didn’t tell her that. She put her feet in my lap and I massaged them for a long time. While I was doing it, I continually kept licking my thumb to provide a bit of lubricant so I wouldn’t chafe her soles. I know she noticed that I was rubbing her foot with my thumb, licking the same thumb that had been touching her dirty foot, and then rubbing her foot again with it. What I was really doing was trying to taste the sweat and dirt from her feet!

For the next couple of weeks, I massaged her feet every chance I could get. I kept trying to get them closer to my face without being too obvious that that’s what I was trying to do. One night when I had to leave for work, I was massaging her feet and had her foot just inches from my face. Sometimes she would put her other foot on my shoulder, and sometimes she would even let it touch my head. I said that I had to get ready for work, and just as I was getting up, I kissed the bottom of her foot. She didn’t say anything but looked at me in a different light. My dick was throbbing and I wanted so badly to have her feet in my face, to smell their stench, and lick the dirt and toe cheese from them. I just didn’t know how to tell her. I figured that it would just happen.

A few days later I was again massaging her feet. I must have felt pretty confident because I put one to my face and started to lick it. She immediately pulled it away. I asked, “What’s wrong?” She said that it excited her when someone licked her feet. I was curious to find out if I was the first one to do that to her. I wasn’t. I instantaneously put it back to my face and started to lick it even more intensely, but in a joking manner!

She got pretty excited and we had some cheap sex that day. I started opening up to her and asking her to wear her sneakers more often, which she did. I liked to massage her feet more when she wore those because they made her feet really stinky and sweaty. I once asked her if she thought I was weird and she said no, that we were both getting something out of this. She got massages, and I got to lick the sweat from her feet and smell their stinky odor.

When I had to leave for a few hours one evening, I told her I would be back shortly and asked her not to take off her shoes until I could do it for her. Surprisingly when I returned, she was still wearing her old sneakers! I sat down on the sofa and she put her feet right in my lap and said, “Get going. I kept these things on all this time for you, and now you’re going to have to put up with the smell.” I took off one of her shoes, put it to my face and inhaled deeply. She just looked at me and sighed.

I was doing some sit-ups in the living room one day and she came by and put her foot on my face, rubbed it around a little and wriggled her toes on my nose, laughing at me condescendingly. That gave me an idea. I started saying that my back was hurting and it sometimes helped if someone would walk on my stomach. She didn’t have a problem with that.

Once she got to where she was standing on me, and I’d had enough, she would say that she liked having me underfoot and didn’t want to get off. Before she stepped up onto me, she would always ask me if I wanted her to take off her shoes or to leave them on. It never mattered to me.

After a few times, she started to stand on my chest, at my invitation. I asked her if she would stand on my face once and she said (and I quote), “No problem, just let me know when you want me to get off, and maybe I will!” This time, she was wearing my favorite sneakers and she put one on my face. She hesitated, and left it there but didn’t put any weight on it. She told me to undo the laces. When I did, she slipped her foot out of it and immediately placed it on my face, with the bottoms of her toes right on my nose. It was warm, sweaty, moist, and very stinky.

She mocked me (which I loved), saying that she liked to see my face under her foot and thought that it must be gross to HAVE to smell her stinky foot just after she had taken her shoe off. She noted some of the sensations she was feeling with her foot fresh out of her shoe and standing on my face. She noticed how easily it slid around as she rubbed it all over my face, and this was probably due to all the sweat on it. She could also feel the bits of foot dirt between her sole and my face as she smeared her foot on my face.

She commented that I must be dying under all that stink, and as unthinkable as it was to her, she kept her foot right on my face, rubbing the smell off of her foot and onto my nose, lips, cheeks, and face. She stressed the HAVE TO because she said that while I was laying on the floor with her standing on my chest or face, I HAD to do whatever she wanted. It made her feel powerful to be able to make me do things that are completely unthinkable to her. I loved it and she loved doing it. I started to get a bit bolder after that.

I asked her if she would humiliate me in front of some of her female friends. She didn’t understand why, but still, she asked me what I wanted her to do. I gave her a scenario where I was her foot slave (here she interjected ‘you ARE my foot slave’) and that I would do anything she wanted to her feet. I asked her to boss me around and MAKE me smell her feet, lick them, and massage them in front of her friends. She said she’d have to think about that. She said that her friends would then want me under their feet, and that would mean less time under hers, and that was not acceptable!

A couple of weeks later both of her sisters came in after they had dropped her off. They all had just gone to a local spa and worked out. Patricia was wearing her (and my favorite) old sneakers. They all sat in the living room and chatted. After a few minutes, Pat called to me by saying, “Karl, come in here. I want you to massage my feet. They’re killing me after this workout.” Both of her sisters looked at her with amazed looks thinking “…who the hell are you to be bossing your renter around like that…”

I came in and sat on the sofa where I usually sat when I gave her massages, but she told me to sit on the floor in front of her. I did, and that also put me right in front of the loveseat where both of her sisters were sitting too! She put both of her shoed feet in my lap. As I lifted up one foot to remove her shoe, she said to her sisters, “Watch this.” As soon as I took off her shoe, she put her foot up to my face and pressed it against my face, twisting it and rubbing it all over my nose and mouth. She mocked me by telling me to breathe in the stink and sweat and by saying how awful it must smell.

Her sisters just watched in amazement, making comments to the effect that I didn’t have to take that and telling Pat to stop. Pat went on to explain to her sisters that I was her foot slave and that I would do anything she told me to do. She said again, “Watch.” She told me to stick out my tongue, and when I did, she dragged her foot across my tongue from heel to toe, stopping at the toes so that she could cram them into my mouth. Her sisters watched in disbelief. They continued to talk and I continued to lick and smell the stench of Pat’s feet.

Finally one of her sisters asked if she could get me to lick, suck, and massage her feet too. Pat said of course and told me to lie down backward on the floor. I was already in front of the loveseat, so I just laid back and both sisters put their feet on me, one on my stomach, and the other high on my chest. Pat told the one who had her feet on my chest to put them in my face, but she declined because she still had he sneakers on. Pat said not to worry about it and came over and stepped onto my face and just stood there for a few minutes while she told them how durable I was and that I was a slave and that they could do anything they wanted to do to me.

When Pat stepped off of my face, her sister put her feet on my face and I started to take off her shoes. She was wearing cheap canvas sneakers- loafers with no laces and without socks. I couldn’t wait to get her feet in my face. She rested her feet on my face and just rubbed them all over it and said how great this was. She asked where Pat had found a wimp like me and how I could put up with all of this abuse. She mentioned that sometimes, especially when she wears these canvas sneakers, how stinky her feet smell. When she takes off her shoes, she has to put them on the steps outside. She couldn’t understand how gross her feet must have smelled when they were actually touching my face, yet she continued to smear them around on my face. When she stopped, I took one of her feet and started to lick its sole, the toes, in-between the toes and she was obviously enjoying it.

The other sister still had her feet on my stomach and was just watching. She noticed that I had a hard on and mentioned it to the others. They all mocked me more for being a freak and getting turned on by their stinky feet. After a while, I did the other sister’s feet with my tongue and they all just talked, occasionally throwing in a mock at me.

When they were about to leave, one sister told, almost ordered me to put her shoes back on. When I did, she stepped up onto my stomach, then my chest, and put a foot on my face. When she put some weight on my face, she looked down at me and said “I’m going to come back with some heels and do this soon. We’ll see if you get so turned on by that.”

When they had left, Pat came over to me and asked how she did. I told her fine and that I loved it. And I loved doing it for them. When I started to get up, she put her foot in my face and pushed it down to the floor and said “Not so fast, I want some more. Besides, I think there is still some dirt and sweat that you missed from my feet.” She had put her sneakers back on and of course, there was more sweat and more bits to clean from her feet. While I was licking her feet, she asked me what turned me on about her’s and her sister’s feet. I told her it was the smell, but most of all it was the feeling of serving a woman and being subservient. I thought that the best way to do that was to be underfoot.

She told me not to mind her sister and her threat of high-heels. She was a bitch anyway. She did say that her sisters had loved the stay and can’t wait to do it again. Pat noticed that I still had a hard-on. She said that we could fuck, but she wouldn’t be able to stand the smell of my face from all of the stinky feet, hers included, that had rubbed in it today. She told me that she wanted to watch me jerk off with her feet in my face. I had been wanting to ever since they had arrived! A couple of weeks went by and I continued to massage Pat’s feet with my mouth as usual.

One day there was a knock at the door and when I opened it, there was one of her sisters. She was on her way home from work and said that she didn’t come to see Pat, but came to see me…underneath her feet! She was wearing a nice skirt and a blouse, with medium-high heels. As we walked into the living room, she asked me if I was game and if I was, to lay on the floor. I did and she immediately stepped up onto my stomach, not being particularly careful with her heels. I was looking up at her, and up her skirt and she noticed. She said, “Here’s a better view for you.”

With that, she put one of her heels to my lips and forced it into my mouth and put the ball of her foot on the bridge of my nose and then stepped onto my face with all of her weight. She stayed there only for a few seconds and then went back to standing on my chest. She kicked off one of her shoes and put her foot on my face. She was wearing nylons and they were very moist and sweaty. She told me not to lick.

She just wanted to watch and listen to me smell her stinky feet and filter my air through her toes and nylons. She insulted me saying that she could feel the air run between her toes as I breathed in the stink. She noted that she had been wearing these nylons all week and wanted them to be especially stinky for me. She said, “I wanted this to be as unpleasant as I could make it for you. It’s not often I get a chance to have a man for a slave, at my feet and willing to do anything I say.” After I dried her other foot by inhaling the smell from it, she stepped off of me and sat on the sofa. I crawled over there and sat in front of her and massaged and licked her feet for quite a while.

She noticed that Pat was going to be home soon, instructed me to tell no one of this visit or else, and left. I told no one.