FRENCH SLAVE TRAVELS TO WORSHIP MY FEET

My French slave travelled from Paris to London for the sole reason of wanting to worship my perfect God-like Arab feet. Talking to me for so long it was his first time he was going to get the perfect opportunity to be on the floor looking up at my Arab soles like he’s dreamed of for so long. It was a dream, something to look forward to, to bring hope, happiness, guidance.

When he finally came and he on his knees looking at my feet in my socks and gym trainers he was mesmerised. The day had finally come, the day that he waited for, oh so long. Goodness comes to those who wait they say. “Take off my gym trainers and sniff the sweat out my french boy,” I said, without hesitation, he took them off with such eagerness and covered his face with my trainers. Sniffing the sweat that pours out, “thank you Sir” he said as he continued to sniff the smell that was pungent, to say the least. I relaxed back and laughed, he looked pathetic but it was fitting. He needed to smell the sweat of Arab Master Boy, the man that owned him for so long via online. All those tributes, all those messages, all the attention he gave was now all worth it. It all came to fruition for him.

As I relaxed back on my bed and put my feet him he began to sniff my soles, to get all the sweat out of my unwashed white gym socks. Unwashed for nearly 4 months. Now all over my French slaves face, he moaned, he smiled, he kept on sniffing until the smell was no more. Until the smell was hiding under my socks between my toes. “Take my socks off and gag on my big Arab feet you pathetic thing,” I said in an assertive tone and he did it without no hesitation. There was no need for a reply from my slave, he knew what to do, he practised doing it in his head over and over before coming here.

The time had finally come.

My French slave kisses each toe and then slowly begins to gag on my big foot, his eyes roll back as he realises how tasty my feet are and that his dream is coming true, finally. I grab my slave by the head and throw him on the floor and proceed to gag with force. Unexpected for my slave but it needed to happen. He needed to gag on my feet, to choke, to suffer so that he can understand how inferior he really is. Look at how my slave smiles as I press my big foot on his inferior little neck, he smiles, through the pain, he understands the satisfaction that comes with it. The glee. The joy. The happiness of being dominated and treated like the cash faggot he is born to be. Travelling all the way from France for just this, how pathetic. I made sure my French slave continued to gag on my feet until I said so, sucking each toe and getting the dirt and sweat out between each toe. Sucking my heel and then choking its neck even more.

My slave finally got what he always wanted, all those tributes he gave finally came to fruition. In other words. His loyalty proved him well.  And it can prove you well too, yes you, you reading this right now.

Serve Arab Master Boy.

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