Tag Archives: Sweaty Socks

FEMDOM SOCKS

There were ten guys in the room; on their knees, hands behind their back. I was surprised to see them fully clothed, but as Mistress Deborah explained so pointedly: ‘they are not here to fuck, they are here to sock.’ Words of wisdom, because these guys were sock fetishists, so into worn, smelly and sweaty socks. Mistress Deborah grabbed a bucket and stuffed a stinky sock in their mouths. You and I take a cup of tea and a cookie, they take a sock.
You, She said, pointing at me, come here and smell.
She really knocked my socks off with that, but I was firm and resolute: No, thank You, Mistress Deborah, I’m a reporter, not a participant.
Get down on your fucking knees, or I’ll put your balls in a blender.
So much for a peptalk! I fell down like a tree, buried my nose in Her socks and inhaled with all my might. Holy Moses, the Great Stink had returned! Her socks smelled like sweat & sewer and the stench was quite overwhelming.
Come on, She growled, put your socks up!
I was too attached to my balls, so I sniffed like a wild hound.
Twenty or so minutes later I stood outside (beyond the reach of any blender) and told Her She had not heard the last of this!
She laughed, gave me the finger and told put to put a sock in it.