Based off of a personal fantasy of mine. (If you’re in NY and want to act this out, just let me know. )
It was the final challenge of the evening. De(feet), the 18+ foot-themed gameshow, was clocking in 3 million viewers at 9PM, a studio record. With only thirty minutes on the clock, the host was cool and collected, knowing the next challenge, always something that the (by then) intoxicated crowd loved.
“Alright,” the Host said to the crowd into his microphone, “I need one person from the crowd for our finale. Let’s take . . . you,” he said, pointing to the back of the crowd. A young man had the spotlight shining on him, and he grew nervous under it’s heat.
“Uh . . . no thank you,” he said, the shyness in his voice becoming apparent. The crowd was having none of it; they started chanting and cheering, and the young man gave into pressure. He rose from his seat and started towards the stage.
“Excellent! Knew you could do it,” the host said. “Have a seat right here, front and center.”
“Alright,” the man said, and sat down, looking around nervously and smiling.
“What’s your name?”
“Jay,” the man said into the microphone.
“Alright, Jay. How old are you?”
“25.”
“25! Great age. Random question: Do you have a foot fetish?”
The crowd roared with scandalous laughter.
“Well . . .”, he said, nervously giggling, “Sure. I love women’s feet.”
“Just women’s feet? Say — put your feet up here.” The host dragged a white footstool from the corner of the stage and place it right in front of Jay.
More nervous laughter from Jay. “Haha . . . why?”
“Ah, no questions! I ask the questions here!” The host went around the footstool, grabbed Jay’s legs and put them on the footstool. Jay shook his head with laughter.
“Atta boy! Now . . . let’s get rid of these.” Jay was too nervous to resist. Instead, he grew very red but was still laughing. “What size feet do you have, Jay?”
“Ten, ten and a half, depending on the shoe.” Before long, both shoes were off and tossed aside haphazardly.
“Do you like your feet?” The host playfully and mockfully began to massage Jay’s feet.
“I mean, I’ve been told I have nice feet, and –”
“Well, that’s a funny way of saying, ‘Absolutely!'” Jay tried to shake his head and refute that, but the crowd went wild at the accusation. “You all love that, don’t you? You guys are the best.” The crowd hungrily agreed.
“So . . .” the host continued, “. . . Who wants to see Jay’s feet?” Before Jay could move, in one quick movement, the host pinched the very tip of Jay’s socks and removed them in one fell swoop, throwing them behind his shoulder. “And won’t you look at these!” The crowd was uncontrollable; some people were whistling, some were cheering, but all were laughing. Jay buried his face into his hands and grew red as a tomato.
“I have to say, Jay — you have some of the nicest feet I’ve ever seen. The tops, the bottoms . . . phew, it’s getting hot in here!”
“I . . . wow,” Jay said, unable to speak a word both from entertainment and embarassment.
“Alright, Jay. Here’s the deal. Why do you think I have you showing your delicious soles to the world?”
“I have no idea,” Jay said.
“We’re about to start the Spring Cleaning challenge, and you’re the first contestant. It may sound icky, but do you like the idea of five thousand dollars?”
“I mean, sure! Who wouldn’t?”
“Let’s see if you keep that enthusiasm. This is what the Spring Cleaning challenge is. It’s quite simple. What I do is this: I take this bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup . . .” At that moment, the host produced a small squeeze-bottle of chocolate syrup from his jacket pocket. “And I cover one of your tootsies here in chocolate. Are you following me so far?”
“. . . Yes,” Jay said, looking quite worried, much to the audience’s chagrin.
“Then . . . you have thirty-five seconds, only thirty-five, to clean your foot to the best of your abilities . . . with your tongue.” The crowd lost it again.
“Oh my god . . .” Jay again buried his face into his hands.
“What do you say?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
The crowd boo’d.
“What about for $10,000? That’s the highest I can go.”
Jay’s heart dropped to his stomach. The money was good, sure. It required him to do something gross. And, he was quite tipsy, and all his friends knew what happens when he gets tipsy . . . what if . . . he embarassed himself on stage in more than one way? He thought of his friends, his family . . . but they wouldn’t be there to help him with his student loans. 10k could go very far.
The host, the crowd all saw him thinking, fighting with his own mind. “C’mon Jay. What do ya say?”
“Fuck it. Fine.” Screams, cheers from the crowd.
“Alright! Here we go!” The host unlatched the bottle’s cap. He turned it upside down, hit it a few times, and stopped any syrup from coming out. “Which foot, Jay?”
“I . . . I don’t know. My right foot. I can’t believe . . .”
“Oh, believe it!” The cap was undone, and a stream of cold, chocolate syrup covered Jay’s foot, leaking through between his toes and dripping onto his sole. It was a messy situation, and the host called Diana, his attractive Chinese assistant, to help. She walked out with a latex glove on, took the squeeze bottle, and smothered Jay’s foot in chocolate syrup. To make things a bit fair, most of the syrup was massaged onto his sole and into his toes, and off the top of his foot.
“Feel good?” The host asked. His assistant flashed a smile into the camera as she slowly and sexily rubbed Jay’s foot with chocolate.
“I . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence and just shrugged his shoulders.
“Again, that means yes! Almost done, Diana?” She nodded her head yes, and stepped away from Jay. He looked more and more worried as the seconds went on.
“Alright, gang. You ready?” The crowd answered with glee.
“Jay . . . I’d suggest you prepare and position yourself.” Jay’s heart was pumping hard, almost through his chest. He sat crosslegged in the couch and rested his right leg across his left thigh. He shook his head from the ridiculousness of it all. His sole was so close to his face that his nose almost touched the chocolate. But, Jay didn’t hate it so much . . .
“On your marks . . .”
Jay gulped.
“Get set . . .”
Diana, too, was gifted with slight of hand. She reached to Jay’s pants, unbuttoned and unzipped them. The boxers were moved around and, soon, his cock was poking through the hold of his boxers. The crowd went absolutely wild. Before Jay could resist, the host shouted . . .
“GO! 35 . . .”
Jay hesitated, but only for half a second. Something kicked in and his tongue immediately attacked his sole.
“32 . . .”
He didn’t know where to go next. There was brown syrup in the wrinkles of his sole. He ran his tongue quickly along the wrinkles, but saw more dripping down the edge of his sole. Grabbing hold of the foot, he ran his tongue along the outer edge of his sole like the drippy edges of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Now, his face was absolutely flush. Oh my god . . . he thought, I . . . I can’t believe this is fun!”
“27 . . .”
Still more syrup on the sole, near the instep and a bit on the heel. Jay worked his tongue up and down, left and right, and sucked the heel a few times, moving in and out with his mouth, lapping up what he could. He entered into the game, and all walls were down. He felt a rush in between his legs. I’m getting hard. Oh fuck . . . I’m getting hard . . . I can’t believe this is happening.
“22 . . . WOW! Ladies and gentlemen, look at that!” The host pointed towards Jay’s rock-hard cock. “And he said he didn’t like his feet! Boy, what a lie!”
Jay was losing track of time. He was entranced with passion, but still kept the goal in mind. He ran his tongue and lips over the inner edge, repeating the same action as before, but as he approached the top of his big toe, his lips opened over it and the toe went in, and he began to suck it like a lollipop, his ecstatic face betraying his dignity.
“16 . . . c’mon, Jay! Clean that tasty foot!”
Jay was losing control. He was in a state of ecstasy. He traced his tongue back over his slicked sole, enjoying every slippery inch. There was still small spots of chocolate, but those were quickly cleaned up.
“8 . . . 7 . . . Don’t forget those four lovely toes!”
Oh! Jay had forgotten about them in the discovery of his new object of affection. He went first towards his baby toe, and stayed there for a second, but it wasn’t enough. A large Black lady screamed from the crowd, “Suck those toes, boy! Suck them good like you know you want to!”
“5 . . .”
In one motion, Jay stuffed all four toes into his mouth, frantically moving his tongue around them. It was too much to bear. Four wasn’t enough, and bound by passion, all five were jammed into his mouth. It was pure embarassment but pure bliss. The camera panned in on his face, his foot in his mouth, and his eyes slightly were rolling back, and were ever-so-slightly crosseyed.
“TIME!”
Maybe it was the loud bang from the confetti dispensor that startled him and jolted his body. It scared Jay, but the look on his face was priceless and would make network history. The camera zoomed in on him, and his face was a perfect mix of surprise and ecstasy. His whole foot was stuffed in his mouth, but that was the least controversial — a jet of cum, just at that moment time was called, shot into the air in front of him, and he was looking directly into the camera. It was a perfect snapshot that would be used for the show’s advertising for years to come. The crowd was so wild with excitment that the host almost had to cover his ears.
“Oh my GOD! Ladies and gentlemen, THAT’S what we call Spring Cleaning! SO, how are you –”
Jay was panting in and out. About ten seconds had passed, but his foot was still firmly planted in his mouth, despite him being finished. “Diana, why don’t you help him . . .”
“On it,” she said. She calmly walked over and pulled his foot from his mouth. Jay slumped in his chair.
“Did . . . Did I win?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ci62wi/foot_challenge_m_feet_self_foot_worship_public