You're hurriedly half carried half thrown into a back alley before anybody else sees that that someone's slipped you away from them. As so as you land, you attempt to get up to see who now owns you, vainly hoping it's a nice group of like noblewomen or actresses. But you quickly fall again, for your ankle is grabbed and you're raced across a maze of back alleys by an small army of figures who run alongside your procession. When you finally stop, your body is bruised to high hell, and your clothes torn, and now is resting in what looks like a dimly lit and seemingly abandoned warehouse. You finally steal some looks at your new captors and you know you're in for a short life of utter pain. It's what looks like a homeless clan of women,their clothes essentially burlap rags, their skin blackened by grime, their grins mostly toothless, and little to no foot coverings. You very audibly groan and attempt to crawl away.
And with that pitiful attempt of an escape, your body is stopped by a swarm of the worlds grimiest feet. You start sobbing into the pair that blocked your head, the tears paving trails in the dirty upper part of foot, forking off in between her toes, revealing what could've been beautiful specimens. They flip you over onto your back, one sitting on each of your limbs, with what you can only guess is the leader sitting on your chest. You plea to her and she shakes her head, and signals for the group to watch her. She's about to demonstrate something. She raises her sole above your face, an appalling sight. It's crusted over many times with filth, and what you can make out are a couple of cuts that never fully healed along with some serious calluses. You can't look for long, because she violently slams feet down around your nose, cupping and entrapping them in the odor of her. The others follow suit, covering your cheeks, forehead, chin, neck, hair, and ears under a literal pile of filthy arches and toes.
When you inevitably gasp in an attempt for fresh air, the one you've decided is the leader shoves her dirtier foot deep inside your throat, gagging you, bringing forth fresh tears. The worst smells and tastes of the bar are now flooding back to you as what could easily be 30 of the filthiest girls in existence rub their soles all over your face and tug at your hair and ears. The leader is now thrusting her foot back and forth in your mouth, and if it weren't for that obstacle in your mouth, your wailing would be echoing off the walls of your new prison. It tastes and smells as if you plunged your face into a garbage can and feasted its contents like it was thanksgiving.
To make matters worse, there was definitely someone playing with the idea of messing with your balls. You can't see anything past the girl sitting on your chest, but you were very certain you were being disrobed from the waist down. While the girls near your face giggled with every rubbing and scrubbing motion they initiated, you were most disgusted by, from what you could feel, a very filthy pair of feet firmly grasped your penis and started pumping.
You grimaced and tried to hold out as long as you could, but within minutes, you exploded like a fountain. You felt her scoop up what she could, heard the patter of her feet approach you, and saw her through the toes of the others, squat down and start dripping it into your mouth. With that, you broke.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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