I've always sucked at deadlines. I only had two days to finish my assignment, but at least the pressure was keeping me focused on my work. I was so lost in coding it took me a few seconds to notice someone was knocking at my door. When I realised, I knew whom it had to be: my friend Alex. He always dropped by my room around five o'clock.
I saved my workspace, sighed, and unlocked the door. We lived in a shared uni flat, and things had disappeared from rooms before; plus I like my privacy. He came in and plopped himself on my bed, looking tired, and I sat back at my desk, looking for some quiet relaxing music to play.
"So how was your day?" I asked. "I was doing my functional programming assignment. Was it tough?"
"No worse than usual, really", he said. "I'm just tired of doing the same every day. Users never learn."
Alex was studying computer science, like me, but he was taking a year in "industry". What a joke. A year of working for next to nothing was more like it. He needed the money, though, and I guess the experience would come handy, but he was starting to lose his patience with it all.
He sighed as the music began to play. "That's nice", he said. He took his shoes off, letting them drop on the floor, picked up an extra pillow I kept for him on the nightstand, and lay down with his head at the foot of the bed, resting his stockinged feet on my own pillow.
"I think I'm going to take a short nap", he said, as I finished fiddling with the media player. "You're not going to get a lot of conversation from me today", he said. "Now quit screwing around and come do your part."
I never stopped feeling embarrassed about it all, even though it had become almost a ritual for us. He'd come to my room practically every day, make himself comfortable, and I would help him relax. That's what I told myself about it when I felt ashamed. It was just a friendly favour. Ok, perhaps a very close-friendship sort of favour, but nothing more. To be fair, Alex was pretty nice about it, and mostly let me live with my illusions, though we both know there was more to it than that. I had become so conditioned that I was already hard.
I sat at the head of the bed and placed my pillow on my lap. Alex was pretty particular about how he wanted things, and he had trained me well. He stretched a bit, and dropped his feet on the pillow. "It's nice to get room service like this", he said, making me blush, as I began to give him a foot massage.
"You know what's the best? It doesn't matter how busy you are, or what you're doing, or how sweaty or dirty or smelly my socks and feet are. You'll be there to rub them for me, won't you?" he said, smirking. "You really know your place now. Do you remember how hard it was to convince you at first though? It wasn't easy to show you where you belong."
I tried to smile, but I felt all mixed up inside. I felt so ashamed of how I let him treat me, of what I felt when he treated me that way, and today he wasn't going to let me pretend it was just a minor thing. Sometimes, especially when he was tired or frustrated, he liked taking it out on me, and though I couldn't say it was easy, part of me loved to be his figurative punching bag. I just looked down at his feet, hoping he'd soon get tired of talking.
"I'm talking to you, pet", he said, grinding his right heel on my cock, which made me squirm. I loved when he called me names, and hated it in equal measure. If only I could be strong enough to either accept what I had become, or break out of it...
"Of course I remember", I said, speaking softly. "I don't think it took you that much work, to be honest."
"More than it should have. You can be such a stubborn thing, when we both know this is the best that has happened to you, isn't it?"
"Of course it is", I said, and the worst was that I knew I was telling the truth.
I met Alex online, on IRC. If you haven't heard of it, it's a chat network where lots of computer people talk technology. Of course that's not all there is to it. There are lots of social channels, and IRC friendships can last for many years. We met there when we both were fifteen, and were delighted to find out we lived in the same town, though we didn't attend the same school. That's how we ended up going to uni together, sharing a flat. At the time our friendship was close, but nothing exceptional. Nothing like what we have now. I don't know if there was a moment when things began to change, but this is how I remember it.
After we got our student loans, we tried not to go crazy with the money. We heard of a guy who managed to spend ten grand in a month, doing nothing better than drinking and living it up. Still, we couldn't avoid making some purchases; entirely justified, of course. I got my new desktop machine, and there was something to say for having a powerful one for development. Eclipse can really bog you down. Alex had a pretty recent one, though, so he got himself a TV. We soon join the club of TV licence dodgers, like all self-respecting students.
Because of the TV, I ended up hanging around with him a lot. We'd often watch the telly, have a takeaway, maybe drink some wine, or vodka, and talk shit late into the night. The introductory courses were pretty easy, so we had plenty of time, and it became so much of a habit that I occasionally ended up sleeping there. Don't get me wrong: we just slept. We were two close friends, and when I was too drunk or tired to get my arse back to my own room, we didn't see anything wrong with using the bed. It was definitely wide enough, which is a rare treat in student flats.
One night, we'd been having more wine than usual, and I asked Alex if I could crash there. He said it was fine, as I expected, but he told me he found it a bit cramped when we slept together. He had a sleeping bag, but I really didn't want to lie on the floor, and in the end he let me stay in bed, but only if I slept head to toe. I joked a bit about his foot odour, but what was I going to do? I guess I could have wobbled my way back and slept on my won bed, but it never even occurred to me.
I woke up very slowly, from a strange dream. I had a slight headache, and Alex's bare toes where in my mouth. I couldn't remember how they got there, and I felt pretty embarrassed about it. My cock was hard, but I didn't give it any thought, as I'd just woken up and it was normal. I tried to quietly remove Alex's toes from my face, but his legs and feet were pretty heavy, almost like he was keeping them there on purpose. In the end, I moved my head, and managed to free myself from them, though not without feeling them slide over my tongue. The least I was expecting was hearing Alex laughing.
"Man, you've been sucking my toes for the whole night, you just couldn't get enough of them", he said. I felt awkward as hell, and didn't even know if he was making things up or if I'd really been sucking on his toes.
"I was asleep", I said. "Shit, if you were awake why didn't you just move them out?"
"I did, the first five or six times. But then I decided if you really wanted to suck on them I didn't mind. I mean, it's not like it hurt me or anything, or even you. It was so funny, though, feeling you rubbing your face all over my souls, groping for my toes. I didn't know you had a thing for cheese, man."
"Yeah, yeah; very funny", I said. I got out of the bed, and promised myself it would not happen again.
"Give me a foot rub, man."
"What?" I asked. We had just finished eating our pizza, and were watching TV at Alex's place.I was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking at the TV, and Alex was poking my leg with his toes.
"You heard me, man", he said. "It's rent for letting you use my TV. Come on, you spend more time here in my room than in your own. I should get something out of it."
"No way, Alex", I said. After having accidentally sucked his toes, I wasn't going to give him more reasons to think I liked his feet, even if, perhaps, deep down, I did, just a little bit. Since that time I had been coming to terms with the fact that I really did like him. I kept this to myself, though, and didn't even always admit it in my own mind.
"Why not? It's not like you even mind. Seriously, you've even put them in your mouth, so what's a little rub between friends?"
"I was drunk that night", I said, sighing. "Will you stop bringing that up?" It had become his favourite way of teasing me, and it was all the more effective because I was so confused and ashamed about it.
"I will if you give me a foot rub", he said smiling.
"Ok, fine", I said. "I guess that makes it worth it. I look forward to not hearing about that shit again."
Before I was done speaking, he stretched his legs and placed his bare feet on my lap. "More rubbing and less yapping, boy", he smirked. I was going to hate this.
I started massaging him with my fingertips, hestitant and awkward at first. I'd never give anyone a massage, not even a girlfriend, and now I was doing it for a guy. Not any massage, either; a foot massage. I actually enjoyed it, though. There was something calming and pleasant about doing it. The texture of the foot felt soft and slightly sticky on my hands, probably from Alex's sweat. I also liked doing something nice for him, though I wouldn't admit it, and it felt good to just obey him and do what he wanted.
I was so concentrated on rubbing his feet that it came as a shock when he moved. He turned around, lying on his side, and I came back to my senses.
"So, are you having fun?" he asked when I saw I had been startled. "You've been rubbing my feet for three quarters of an hour, without saying a word. I knew you wouldn't mind it." He was right. I had found it delightful, and I was hard again. "Do go on, you can rub them until I fall asleep." He sounded like he was doing me a favour.
"What makes you think I want to slave for you like that?" I asked, annoyed, but conscious that I really wanted to do it.
"It's up to you. I'm going to sleep. If you want to stay and rub my feet, stay; if not, good night."
Of course I stayed.