Tom slides out of his leather jacket and hands it to Jared, who hangs it by the door and then eagerly returns to watch this new game begin. Tom yanks you up into the air, placing you on the carpet before a large, comfortable-looking armchair, then takes a seat and begins to pry off his boots one at a time, using his other foot. The suede boots hit the ground with a thud so it trembles under you slightly, and the giant actor places his feet - which are twice as tall as you are, sitting there - so that they are propped directly in front of you. The mammoth feet send a warm smell wafting over toward you; it is sweet and overwhelming, the aroma of a man's leather-clad flesh after a hard day's work.
You're tempted to scramble to your feet and run, but you know that the giant would only laugh at your pathetic disobedience, then take a few steps before grinding you under his massive heel.. You swallow hard, then crawl forward on your knees and press your palms into the tough muscle of Tom Welling's footbed.
Jared, watching eagerly, snickers as he gets to enjoy the show being put on for him. Tom sighs with relief, propping his arms behind his resting head. "Ahh.. That's nice.. Keep it up, little guy!" You massage the tough skin of Tom's heel, then work your way up to the soft, pale skin of the giant arch. "Mmmm.. Yeah.." You hear Tom mumble as you work. The man is in Heaven right now, but you're ready to lie down and die of humiliation as you rub your hands and arms all over the filthy, smelly skin of another man's dirty feet. You go on working, simply because you don't have a choice - you're their property now. You knead the round muscle padding at the top of the foot. Tom enjoys it so much that he wiggles his toes appreciatively. A few or the toes crack, startling you, and Tom snickers down his nose at you when you jump.
You have to stand on your own tip-toes to reach Tom's meaty toes, and your arms are soon aching as you squeeze and work each round padding, slightly darker than the backs of the toes.
While you're working, Tom Welling can't help but notice that you're fighting not to gag on the manly stench of foot which is being forced in your faced, and he has an idea that makes him grin wickedly..
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