((This is another true story of mine. I will write some fictional pieces, but that'll be saved for when I'm done recounting tales that have really happened to yours truly. It's weird, I have had a lot of experiences being bound or gagged, and mostly all of them have involved feet in some way. Any way, enough drabble, let's get into it.))
This particular experience happened a few months ago. A friend of mine, who'll I name Jay, ended up homeless. Kicked out of his mom's house, no friend would take him in, so in the end he turned to me, someone he didn't even know all that well. We rode the same bus together for a couple years, and shared a few of the same classes, but never really hung out around or outside of school. But me being the kindhearted soul that I was--and someone who had always had a crush on Jay--I just had to let him stay at my place. It took some convincing but my parents let him stay over (I'm 19, he's 18.)
In all he stayed around three weeks (maybe a little over a month?). One thing about him I found out really, really fast was the fact that he had some of the smelliest feet I've ever had the pleasure to sniff. The very first night he was here, he was embarrassed to take his shoes off. I told him I didn't care about the smell, and after a while he finally felt comfortable to take them off. And when they did...man, oh man, my room started stinking instantly. So every day that he stayed over, my room always smelled like his nasty feet. It didn't even matter if he put on a new pair of socks...his shoes just made his feet REEK.
Over time he began getting more comfortable with his smelly feet. Putting them close to my face when I was laying down, tossing his socks in my direction, asking me how bad they smelled, etc, stuff like that. Then one day...he got the balls to do something that was so embarrassing for me.
He and I were laying in the bed together. His shoes hit the floor, and then I noticed him slipping out of his socks. I was confused when I didn't see him throw his socks on the floor. He kept looking back to me, chuckling about something. I kept asking "What?" repeatedly. I didn't get an answer. Until...
He kinda leaped forward, like, jumped in my direction, grabbing onto my shoulders and making sure i was flat on my back on my bed. With one hand he tightly clutched his socks, with the other he grabbed my wrist to stop me from struggling as much. He used the hand with his socks in it to press his filthy, days-old, crusty and moist black socks against my lips. Not wanting him to think that I enjoyed this, I tried fighting back, but he was overpowering me.
"Open wide," Jay said as he continued pressing his socks against my lips, rubbing them up and down, smothering my nose with them as well. The smell was overwhelming. They felt disgusting to touch! "Open your mouth!" I don't remember exactly how I ended up opening my mouth wide enough, but I did, and the tip of his filthy socks went into my mouth. Once that happened, it was all over, his entire sock went into my mouth.
"MMPHHH..." I moaned out, unable to spit out his sock with his hand and the other sock still against my lips. The tip of his other sock made its way into my mouth, and soon the entire sock went in. My cheeks were puffed out as both socks were filling my mouth. I had no choice but to taste his crusty socks...the taste of sweat and dirt...indescribable.
"That taste good?" Jay taunted. I couldn't really answer him, now could I? To add a little more torture, he grabbed my arms, pulled them as he laid back, and stuck his foot out, pressing it right on my face. The look of pure amusement on his face at my predicament made me realize he had completely broken out of his shell and no longer shy about his feet. As he laughed I breathed in the intoxicating scent of his toes for a good minute before he released me. I yanked his socks out of my mouth and breathed in a huge gulp of fresh air...well, fresh enough. The air still stunk. "Can't believe you were so weak that I managed to shove my socks in your mouth!" He was loving the fact that he got to torture me. The rest of that night went pretty normal. Till this day we have little inside jokes here and there about how I tasted his socks, but since he no longer lives at my place, I wouldn't have any chances to eat his socks again.
((Welp, there's my most recent-ish experience. Really short lived, but hey, it's an experience.))