Sight. The pink sock, nearly pressing into my eyes. It was dark, but after this afternoon, I knew all too well that there were dirty imprints of toes and soles in a slight shade of brown. Touch. The arch of Shiann's sole, touching my nose. The toes against my forehead, wriggling slightly. The heel, bumping my chin a few times as she moved ever slightly down the couch towards me. The feeling of slightly worn fabric, a few shreds of cotton that had broken free of the tight-knit cotton weaving of her socks. Sound. "Prove it. Prove that you aren't a foot boy... I have some things I want to talk to you about, Samuel." My own heart, beating out of my chest. The sound of whatever nurse show was on TV. Did I hear a rustling from our bedroom? No, I didn't think so. Possibly - no, definitely - a giggle from Shiann. Taste. A man has to breathe, right? I could feel heat radiating off her foot and it was as if there were fumes penetrating my lips. Shiann's heel had touched my lips for only a second, and as if by instinct, my tongue wiped at my lower lip - what in the fuck is wrong with me? My fiancée was in the next room! The salty taste hit the tip of my tongue. Smell. This was where all my other senses came crashing down. The scent from her foot was.. well, it was heavenly. I'd smelled Emili's shoes after a day of work, secretly, and they didn't come close to this. I'd smelled her bare foot, after pleading, fresh after work. That still didn't come close to Shiann's intoxicating scent, the corn chip smell mixed with the musk of days-old sweat, blasting down my nostrils. It took everything in me not to inhale. I thought of holding my breath, trying to ignore every impulse in my body to sniff. I sniffed, though. Loudly. "That's right." Shiann started. I couldn't move, couldn't think. I was paralyzed. There was a pit in my stomach that constantly reminded me that Emili, my fiancée, was just down the hall. And here I was, soaking in the scent of her baby sister's gorgeous feet. "You can't prove it because you're a little foot freak, and you love this. I can hear you sniffing down there, freak." She pushed my head back with her foot until I was shoved into the center corner of the sectional couch. She pulled her foot back and sat cross-legged. "Now, Samuel, we both know I have to take this waitressing job. Emili won't let me keep living here if don't. But, here's the thing, I only agreed to a part time shift. I won't be slaving away, 40 hours a week for money." Normally, this is where I would pick up a stern, older brother tone. I would tell her that this is the adult world, people have to work for what they want. I would, kindly, tell her to drop the act and to stop feeling sorry for herself and to stop trying to guilt me into enabling her. Instead, I stared at the pink sock, hoping for the TV to light up again so I could see the dirty imprints in the soles. Shame didn't even register to me, nor guilt. Only the socks of this petite goddess before me. My rock-hard erection didn't help either. "So instead, I'll tell Emili that I make really good tips but I'm trying reeeally hard to get a full-time position. And you'll fund me." My eyes went up to her in shock. "F-fund you?" She sat up, quickly, and pressed her socked toes into my mouth. "Now, now, Samuel. I'm talking. You'll take care of my portion of rent, and you'll tell Emili I paid in full." I couldn't speak up for myself even if I wanted to. The brief taste I'd gotten from when her sock brushed my lip was nothing compared to the taste of her dirty sock in my mouth. Correction, not even her sock in the bathroom earlier had a chance in hell of beating this. "Now, I'm not a complete bitch. I know you have things to pay for. Like a wedding." She giggled. This was leverage. Blackmail. "I won't take your entire paycheck, even though I could, because you're such a fucking pushover. I'll let you keep bits and pieces. Whatever scraps you have left. You'll be like a little puppy with those scraps, won't you?" I winced at that. She somehow knew the exact words that would cut into me. Pushover. Little scraps. I felt small even though I easily tripled her in size. "And you'll lap those scraps up, won't you Samuel?" I looked down her leg, to her waiting eyes. Saw the devious smile. She wasn't going to take no for an answer. I nodded. She pulled her socked toes from my mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." "Fine, Shi, whatever you say. Just please, keep it down. If Emili came out right now.." "No, not 'whatever I say.' I want you to say it, that you'll lap up my scraps like a pathetic puppy dog." She pouted like a spoiled brat. "I'm.. I'm not saying that." She looked up at me, a defiant look in her eyes. She scooted her butt down the couch again and pushed her foot into my face. "Fine, don't say it. Show me." My eyes drifted to meet hers. The show had ended and the preview screen was, of course, a nurse, which meant the screen was almost completely white. The room was almost entirely by that bright, white light. I could see her clearly. Which meant, she could clearly see me. Her eyes glanced down to my erection, which was causing a tent in my sweat pants. She giggled. Her other leg moved suddenly and she held her pink-socked toes mere inches from the tip of my cock. A slight wriggle of her toes and her toes came into contact. A shiver ran up my body and I tried to conceal it from the younger sister of my fiancée. I felt my cock lurch as she dragged her big toe down my cock, and then pulled it away. She cleared her through and nudged the toe of her other foot against my nose. The smell again fully engulfed my senses and my cock lurched again. I could have sworn I let out a moan, but I couldn't tell due to the rushing sound in my ears and the fact that I could only focus on making sure there weren't any noises coming from my bedroom. I knew I couldn't keep her waiting; I could feel the sense of authority in her tone. I slowly stuck my tongue out and ran it across the bottom of her socked sole. The fuzz of the sock tickled my tongue, but again, that sense barely registered as the taste of her dirty sock enveloped my tongue. I lowered my head and licked from heel to toe again, savoring the taste. "Take it off. I want to see if you'd have more fun with the sock like you did earlier, or with my real foot." Like a man possessed, my arms acting independently of my mind, I reached for her ankle. Guilt clawed at me as my fingers fondled around for the ankle of her sock and I pulled it, slowly, down her tiny foot. I stared at her toes. Painted navy blue, my favorite color for toes to be painted. An odd color for her to have, unless... she used Emili's? I was at once reminded of my guilt and my fiancée in the next room, but it subsided as the thought crossed my mind that this was premeditated? "I didn't say you could stop. Lap it up, puppy." I was all I could do not to moan, I put my tongue on her heel and dragged it up her small, slender, sweaty soles. As my tongue moved across the smooth arch of her sole, she wrinkled her toes and her sole wrinkled throughout. "That tickles! No wonder you were so quick to lick my soles, Emili probably never lets you do this, she hates her soles being tickled!" Even hearing her say her sister's name didn't stop me. My tongue flicked up each groove of her wrinkled sole, to the base of her toes. I turned my head so my tongue could angle up under each toe in one swipe. The stench of her bare sole finally caught when my tongue was under her pinky toe, because it meant my nose was pressed in between her big toe and the one next to it. She tensed her toes, pinching my nose. My tongue was frozen in place under her pinky toe. The cheesy scent of her sweaty, now spitty, feet was more than I could bare. I could feel my cock pulsating with every inhale. Shiann let my nose go and I resumed licking, this time under her toes. My tongue was collecting bits and pieces of sock lint as it went, as well as every salty bit of dried sweat. When it seemed she was satisfied, and I thought for sure the grueling torture of being made to worship this little brat's soles (okay, it wasn't that bad) she pushed both heels into my chest. She then used my chest as a platform to remove her left sock with her right foot's toes, just inches from my face. When that sock was off, she picked it up with one foot, by the toes and glared at me. "Open up. I want you to put this one in your mouth like I'm sure you did earlier..." I did as I was told. No use fighting back now. Unless Emili were to walk in and see me doing this all so willingly... Once my lips parted, she began stuffing the sock in my mouth using only the toes of her right foot. With her left foot, she pushed against my chest, harder than before, causing me to sink further back into the couch. It became so uncomfortable that I had to scoot my butt down the couch, closer to her. I was practically laying down now, her feet resting on my chest, her disgusting sock pressed into my mouth, hanging out an inch or two. My head was craned up just enough to see what she was going to do next. Shiann, the nineteen-year-old burnout bratty bitch whose small feet had secretly tormented me for the past year or so, had driven me into the bathroom with a sock shoved into my pocket so many times to jerk off, reached up and pulled my sweatpants down just enough that my cock sprung out. She smiled at me and gripped it with her slender hands and began stroking. Then, her small feet pressed into my face. I was completely enveloped by them. The smell of the day's sweat, which had festered in the same socks for at least two days, invaded my nostrils. The intensity with which that smell brought me pleasure, coupled with the quickness she was stroking up and down my bare cock, had me mere inches from orgasm already. She roughly slid her fingers down the base of my cock and squeezed tightly. I felt it coming, I felt myself ready to burst, just waiting for her to slide her hand up and give me sweet release... But suddenly, she let go. The white light of the TV replaced the vision of her wrinkled soles. She rolled off the couch, leaving me with my cock standing hard at attention, out in the open. She walked to where my head was and bent down, her lips inches from my ear. "I look forward to our arrangement. I can't wait to spend all your money, and then come home from work and have you clean my feet again." She kissed my forehead and plucked the sock from my mouth. "Oh, and you're not allowed to jerk off tonight. If I find out that you did, I'm telling Emili that I caught you sniffing my dirty socks out of the laundry. I wonder what she'd think of that..." Then, Shiann retreated into her room, leaving me lying on the couch with my cock and my very blue balls hanging. I stayed on the couch for almost an hour, waiting for my shame and guilt to subside, before climbing back into bed with my fiancée.