Choosing a Sock Slave - 4K POV
As I stepped out of my office building, the sun blazed down on me, my heels clicking against the pavement. I couldn't help but feel a sense of power as I strutted towards my car, knowing that three men were vying for my attention. Little did they know that I had other plans for them. Plans that involved becoming my personal sock slaves.
Back at home, I eagerly awaited their arrival. I popped some shrinking powder into their morning coffee, watching as they shrank into a tiny box, ready to be played with. The anticipation was almost unbearable as I imagined the look on their faces when they saw what was in store for them.
Finally, it was time. I opened the box and revealed my little test: if they could please my feet, they would have the honor of being my sock pet. Guy Number One stepped up first, trying his best to clean my slipper soles. But it was clear he just wasn't up to the task. With a smirk, I crushed him under my slipper, thinking that maybe this wasn't a job for today.
Guy Number Two was next. This time, he had the honor of cleaning my sweaty socks. He was determined not to fail like his friend. But despite his efforts, his stamina was not enough. Eventually, his pathetic little tongue could no longer please me, and I crushed him under my socked sole.
Finally, Guy Number Three. This guy was a true sock addict, with incredible stamina and a determination to please. He licked my soles with relish, his little tongue dancing over them as he massaged them with his hands. I couldn't hide my appreciation as he worked his magic on my feet.
As the days passed, Guy Number Three proved himself to be a keeper. Every day, he kept my feet clean and satisfied, clearly born to serve. In gratitude, I decided to reward him on our first night together. As I drifted off to sleep with my foot in his slipper, he looked so happy, a dream come true.
But alas, it was morning, and I was late for work. With a sigh, I pulled my foot out of the slipper and discovered that he wasn't doing too well. In fact, he was no longer of any use to me. With a sad smile, I ended him under my bed, where he made a wonderful final squeak and crunch.
It was time to start again. I would need to find another willing sock slave soon. Until then, I'd dispose of the socks and throw away the broken remains of my last victim. I couldn't even remember his name now. But another guy would surely volunteer soon, eager to serve at my feet.
