Vignette: Foot Worship

Juxtaposition: haughteur, humility.

Seduction | Musk | Bukkake

◌

Based on a corny Christian inspirational story about a pastor who preaches barefoot, this story combines suit & tie fetish with several other kinks: dress shoes, socks, barefoot, & foot worship, with one character remaining perfectly done up while the other gets loose and disheveled, and both ending up just plastered in cum. I’m all for queering up the institutions that have oppressed queer people. Enjoy.

---

Neil chose his best shoes today. He had many pairs of fine dress shoes, so it was a difficult decision: Italian low vamp loafers, Stubbs & Wootton slippers, gleaming double monkstraps, calfskin wholecut laceups. Only the finest shoes to cushion his feet. He loved any shoe that drew attention to his feet. And he wanted the pastor to pay attention.

Pastor Ted Stockton had chosen Neil to read the scriptures for today’s church service. Flattering, since Neil only joined a few months ago, and Neil felt welcome to be himself, to dress to his usual degree of dandyish flamboyance in front of an admiring congregation. Ted Stockton always complemented Neil’s outfits, and always asked where Neil got his shoes. And it helped that Ted was also properly dressed, too.

The running joke was that Neil and Ted were peacocking, competing for best dressed. Pastor Stockton wore impeccable suits: pinstripes in blue or gray, silk ties knotted in double windsors, starched white shirts with cufflinks, and only the finest shoes. Always loafers of some kind: calfskin, or cordovan, polished like mirrors. This was not a man who wore a Rolex or drove a Porsche, but he was always careful to dress well, from his pocket handkerchief to his tiepin. With his bookish glasses and salt and pepper beard, he looked distinguished and understated.

Neil, on the other hand went for a bolder style: suits in glen plaids, windowpanes, chalkstripes; three piece suits with peak lapels, or double-breasted suits with ticket pockets; sevenfold ties accented by tab collar shirts with contrasting white collars and cuffs. A thick black beard and a sharp sidepart coiffed to within an inch of its life. And of course the shoes. Sometimes avant garde, in fashion forward patterns. Sometimes vintage: low vamp loafers, pumps, Belgians, the lower the vamp the better, leaving more of the top of his foot exposed, especially when his arch almost slipped out of the soft leather lip. Whenever he wore socks, he opted for sheer hosiery, as gauzy and translucent as he could find. Neil had never known of any other kind of dress sock. He loved wearing them.

So, when Neil lined up with the other scripture readers for the processional right outside of the pastor’s office, Neil was flattered when Ted noticed his shoes. “Those shoes are stunning, sir.”

“Thank you, sir.” Neil held one out for the pastor to admire, letting just a gap of air come in through his arch. The buttery soft low vamp made it all too easy for Neil’s shoe to slip off his heel. All he had to do was lift his foot, and gravity did the rest. “Calfskin Magnanni pumps.”

“You seem to have forgotten something,” replied Ted, pointing down to his shoes. Beneath his pinstripe suit, Ted wore tassel loafers with navy socks—a bit low vamp, too, Neil observed, revealing just a hair more of the pastor’s socked feet than shoes in an ordinary style. Ted then pointed to Neil’s ankles, bare beneath his suit. “No socks today? That’s quite a bold move.”

“Oh, I never wear socks in the summer, even with suits. It’s part of my style.” Neil’s answer was nonchalant, even as his cock twitched. Back in high school, Neil snooped in his father’s closet, trying on his father’s beautiful suits and ties, sniffing his father’s dress shoes, savoring that aroma of fine leather and sweaty hosiery. He’d taken a more than casual liking to suits, ties, dress shoes, socks, and feet ever since. To Neil, the suit and tie were all a frame for the footwear, and the footwear was there to offer a tantalizing glimpse of the guy’s feet. Neil’s father was a banker, and Neil himself was a real estate agent who kept up the same level of dress. His only concession to the summer heat was to wear lighter fabrics and go sockless. This was the first time this year he’d done so when going to this church. But, more significantly, but this was the first time anyone took notice. “You know, that contrast of everything sharp, dapper, and in place—except one thing.”

“Surely you’re wearing some of those no-show socks that have grown popular these past few years?” Shifting in his tassel loafers—was one heel starting to pop out?—Pastor Ted fixed his attention on Neil’s shoes.

Neil shook his head, resting the toe of his shoe on the floor inches away from Ted’s feet. The luxurious tan leather now hung just a hair below Neil’s bare ankle. “No need for even those kinds of socks, especially when you choose high quality shoes in soft leathers.”

“No socks at all, then?” Pinching his tie, Ted looked up and down the hall. Neil thought he saw a glimmer of nervousness in the pastor’s demeanor. “Even during the hottest part of the year?”

Over Ted’s shoulder, Neil caught a glimpse of the pastor’s office, where a large sketch hung over the pastor’s desk. It depicted a handsome bearded man—another pastor, apparently, holding a bible, wearing a suit and tie—but barefoot. Whoever drew it took extra time rendering the man’s sculptural feet, large and bare beneath the crisp trousers. Was it possible—no, surely not. This was his pastor, not some foot fetish guy Neil was flirting with online. Or was he? Glancing up and down the hall, Neil decided to risk it. Only one way to find out, after all.

“Like I said, no need for socks.” Tucking his hands into his pockets, Neil shifted his weight from one foot to the other, lifting his foot halfway out of the calfskin pump, arch exposed. A harmless display, Neil thought.

But Ted’s eyes widened. He held his glasses on his nose, eyes fixed.

With a lazy flex of his toes, Neil let his shoe slide off the ball of his foot, the lip of it revealing inch after inch, until it fell the rest of the way off. There it was, his bare foot, tan and wide with pink soles, dusted in short hairs all across the top and the knuckles of his toes. And there was his pastor, sucking in a sharp breath.

---

Hungry for more? Purchase and download the full story here: Foot Worship Service – Barefoot Pastor (suit + tie, foot fetish, seduction, shoeplay, musk, bukkake).