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Warning: This story contains sexual acts between young adult males and/or females. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This story is not in any way an accurate depiction of reality, and any relations to real persons or acts are unintentional. This story is fiction.
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Worshipping Jake
Chapter 5
After spending most of Saturday at Jake's, the rest of my weekend was divided between rubbing my dick raw while replaying the events in my mind and pondering what I was turning into. Jake was making me into some obedient servant, using my lust for his body as a way to humiliate and further degrade me. Just how far was I willing to go? My attraction to him was becoming an addiction; he was all I could think about. I was terrified of him, especially since he now had plenty of video to completely destroy my life and my reputation. As fearful as I was of what might happen, my fear was outweighed by my desire - no, my need - to serve and worship him.
Monday started out normal, according to my new routine: pick up Jake's breakfast order, then get my ass to the parking lot at school to await his arrival. Deliver his food as soon as he parked and kiss his perfect feet, while hoping and praying no one saw me doing it in the middle of the parking lot. Then spend the rest of the day in various classes, daydreaming about Jake's feet, until I had the chance to see him again in last period, where I would sit with an erection in my pants from just being next to him. Then follow him like a puppy to his locker to collect his books and homework assignments.
Today, though, Jake varied the routine. At the end of last period, he stood up, and instead of picking up the books he had with him, he simply snapped his fingers and pointed to them. Understanding his command, I scooped up my belongings and his, and followed obediently as he strode from the classroom to his locker. Along the way, he stopped in the hallway to flirt with some girl; not knowing what to do, I stepped out of the way and pretended I was waiting on someone so as not to draw attention to myself. When Jake finished talking, he snapped his fingers without even looking at me and walked on towards his locker without looking back, secure in the knowledge I'd be obediently at his heels.
When we got to Jake's locker, he loaded me down with his books and a list of his homework without speaking to me, then snapped his fingers again and started walking towards the parking lot. I followed him to his truck. He opened the door and put his foot on the door jamb and began unlacing his Chucks. He pulled each shoe off while I watched, captivated by the sight of his feet. I could smell the odor of his sweat coming from his feet as he peeled off both his white socks. He turned to me with his socks in his hand.
"Open," he said simply.
I instantly opened my mouth, and he shoved both of his sweaty socks into my mouth, filling my mouth with the damp material, and filling my nostrils with the pungent smell of his feet. "I expect those back in the morning, delivered with my breakfast, fag. They better be clean and ready to wear, too. Wash them by hand. And don't fucking chew any holes in them or I'll beat your ass," Jake told me. And with that, he climbed in his truck and drove away, leaving me with a mouthful of his dirty socks.
I could taste a lot of sweat in his socks, and I was both turned on and grossed out at the same time. The idea of sucking on sweaty socks was pretty disgusting, but the idea of sucking Jake's sweat out of something he'd worn still got me rock hard.
I kept the socks in my mouth the entire way home.
Once home, I carefully washed them by hand in my sink, and laid them out to dry like they were my most precious possession. To Jake, they were probably just one of many pairs of socks he had; to me, though, they were a sign of my connection to the jock god I worshipped, as well as proof that I had a place in his life, even if it was just as his obedient slave.
The next morning, I delivered Jake's breakfast to him as always, along with his freshly cleaned socks. He inspected them without a word, then tossed them in his truck. He handed me a sheet of paper.
Jake explained, "Listen up, faggot. This is my class schedule. I expect you to meet me at class change every class. No reason I should have to carry my books around all day when I have a bitch to do it for me. Think you can get that through your little foot fag brain?"
"Yes, Sir, I understand."
"Just meet me at the door of my classroom, bitch. I don't need a faggot following me around the hallways all day. At lunch time I want you waiting at the entrance to the cafeteria. I'll give you my lunch order and you can fetch it for me."
That word: fetch. It made me feel just like his obedient dog. Probably the reason he chose it.
"Yes, Sir, thank you."
Jake snapped his fingers and pointed down at the ground, so I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet. Today he was wearing his old, dirty Nikes I'd worked so hard to lick clean, and I planted a kiss on each toe before he dismissed me.
I had to scramble to get to each of Jake's classes and give him the appropriate textbook, then still get to my class without being late. Jake didn't take any notice, often cooling strolling up seconds before the class bell rang, which meant I had to run to my class to avoid a tardy.
At lunch time, I was waiting for Jake as instructed. He walked up, looked at the cafeteria menu, and told me what he wanted. Then he strolled into the cafeteria and grabbed a seat at a table with the other jocks, leaving me to stand in line and get him his lunch, which I also had to pay for. It felt super weird carrying his tray over to his table and putting it down in front of him, but I did it, even though I could see some strange stares from the other jocks at the table. As soon as I walked away, I could hear them talking, then they all started laughing. I figured they were probably laughing at me, and I said a prayer that Jake hadn't told them about me.
My day went on like that, running around delivering Jake's books and collecting the ones he didn't need any longer. At the end of the last period, there was no need for me to follow him to his locker, since all his books were already in my book bag.
Jake looked at me as he was getting ready to leave and said, "Be in the back parking lot at 6:00 pm, cocksucker," then walked away. I had no idea what he wanted, but hoped no one heard him refer to me as a cocksucker.
I went home and worked on Jake's homework, then mine, until time to meet him back at school. At six o'clock I was sitting in my usual place in the back lot. Jake's truck was still parked in its usual spot, though most of the other vehicles were gone. A few of the other football players and the coaches were just leaving when I got a text from Jake.
"Fieldhouse. Now."
I'd never been in the fieldhouse. It was where the football team's locker room was located, and it was off-limits for non-players. I made my way down to the field, and saw Jake standing outside the door in his full football uniform, holding his helmet. Practice had evidently ended a little while ago. He was dirty and very sweaty. He handed me his helmet, then entered a code in the lock on the fieldhouse door, snapping his fingers for me to follow him as he walked inside.
The smell of the locker room was like nothing I'd ever encountered. It was far more powerful than the gym locker room. The smell of fresh teen jock sweat from the recent practice was heavy in the air, layered with the odor of years of old sweat which had accumulated in the walls and floors. The place was so permeated with testosterone you could practically feel it. It felt humid from the players who'd showered before heading home. It was the most intensely alpha male place I'd ever been in my life, and my dick was instantly hard as a rock.
The place seemed to be empty except for us. Jake led me to his locker and took a seat on the wooden bench in front of it. He snapped his fingers and pointed to his cleats, so I immediately hit my knees and started kissing his feet.
"My cleats are dirty," he observed casually.
I didn't need more of an order. I immediately began tongue shining his dirty football cleats, scrubbing the dirt from every inch of them. When the tops of both were clean to his satisfaction, Jake threw his leg up on the bench so I could clean the soles and spikes. I hated swallowing the bits of grass and dirt stuck there, but didn't really have any choice, so I choked them down. Jake then switched legs so I could clean the bottom of his other shoe. By the time I was done, my mouth felt gritty with dirt and I'm sure I had grass stains on my lips and teeth.
Jake stood up and began removing his uniform, taking off his jersey and shoulder pads. He kicked off his cleats and removed his pants and socks until he was in nothing but his jock. A cup hid his bulge from sight. As usual, I was struck dumb by the awesome sight of his perfect, sculpted body. His broad shoulders and big pecs, tapering down to the six-pack abs and those strong, muscular legs were enough to take my breath away, and left me slack-jawed and drooling like a puppy.
I was stunned when Jake reached over, grabbed my hair, and pulled my head into his crotch. I could feel the hard plastic of his protective cup against my nose, and the rough fabric of his jock strap rubbing my lips. I inhaled sharply and got a huge hit of his crotch sweat; not only what had accumulated during the day, but also from his exertions at practice. Trapped by his cup, the scent was powerful, almost overwhelming, and for me an aphrodisiac. Essence of Jake was my favorite scent, it turned out.
Jack ground my face into his smelly crotch. "That what you want so bad, little faggot? You want to lick the sweat off my balls? They're pretty nasty right now. But not too nasty for you, huh, bitch?"
I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life.
Jake reached into his jockstrap and pulled out his cup, then started rubbing it on my face. "Lick it, bitch," he ordered. "Clean all that sweat out of my cup. Probably a little stale piss on there for you, too."
I licked every inch of his cup, breathing the smell of Jake deep into my lungs. I was licking something that had touched his big cock and was still warm from contact with it. I could practically taste his cock on the cup, and almost shot in my pants at the taste.
Once he felt his cup was sufficiently polished, Jake moved his jockstrap to one side and pulled out his balls. I moaned out loud at the sight of them. They were huge, and lightly covered with blond hair. I dived toward them with my mouth open, but Jake grabbed my hair and stopped me with my tongue just barely out of reach of his nuts.
"What is it you want, fag? Let me hear it," he said.
"Oh, please Sir, please let me lick your balls!" I whined.
"These balls?" he said, jiggling them with his free hand. "Shit, faggot, half the girls in this school want to lick these balls, not to mention get a ride on my cock. Why should I let a little pathetic foot licking fag like you taste them?" he asked.
"I'll do anything you want, Sir. Anything at all. Please just let me worship you, Sir," I begged, really putting my heart into it.
"Anything, huh? You'll do anything just to lick the sweat off my balls, fag?" Jake sneered.
I moaned, "Oh yes, Sir! Anything you want! I just want to touch your body so badly, Sir!" I stuck my tongue out as far as it would reach, desperate to taste him, but I still couldn't quite make contact with his flesh.
"Well, fag, I think I'm gonna put that to the test, then," Jake chuckled evilly. Had my brain not been so fogged with lust at that moment, I might have been wary of that comment, but I paid no attention to it at the time, a fact I would come to regret later on.
"Yeah bitchboy, go on, work for it," Jake said, and he watched my pathetic attempt to reach his big balls with my tongue. I was straining against his grip, painfully pulling on my own hair, which was twisted in his fingers, all in an effort to lick his magnificent nuts. He let me continue to strain, amused by my devotion to the task, as he slowly allowed me to inch closer and closer. At last, just the very tip of my tongue made contact with Jake's testicles, and I was able to run my tongue lightly over the surface of his sac. I could taste the salt of his ball sweat, and I wanted more.
Finally, Jake had mercy on me. He pulled my face into his groin and allowed me to swallow his nuts one at a time, taking turns licking the sweat off each one, then nuzzling my nose further into his crotch, getting his scent all over me. My nose and mouth were filled with the raw, primal smell and taste of Jake, my football god.
Jake grabbed my hair and pulled me up to his cock, which was rock hard and stretching the fabric of his jock strap to the limit. He was about nine inches and cut, and his cock had a slight curve upwards. It was thick, and I knew it would stretch my mouth just trying to swallow it, assuming Jake allowed me to try. I'd never sucked a cock before, but I couldn't think of anyone I'd more want to be my first than Jake. Jake rubbed my face on his cock, the rough fabric of his jockstrap rubbing against my lips and nose.
"You wanted it, fag, there it is. Show me how badly you want it."
I began to suck on his massive cock through his jockstrap. The sweat in the fabric added a whole different level of taste to his cock, while the rough fabric abraded my lips and tongue. I didn't care, though. I sucked him for all I was worth, trying to get every inch of his cock down my throat, while also sucking every drop of sweat out of his jockstrap at the same time. I could feel the heat from his cock, and was desperate for direct contact with it, but when I reached up to try and remove his jockstrap, Jake swatted my hands away and shoved his fabric-covered cock further in my mouth. I groaned in frustration, but he just laughed at my desperation and kept fucking my mouth. I used my right hand to massage his spit-slick balls, while my left hand caressed his magnificent legs and feet.
I heard Jake's breathing change, and his balls pulled tight in my hand just before I got my first-ever taste of alpha male cum. Jake shot a massive load into my mouth, filtered through his jockstrap, and I greedily sucked up every droplet. I continued to lick and suck on his cock until he shoved me away, hard. I fell over, but quickly looked back up at him in total worship.
As his cock softened, Jake removed his jockstrap, revealing his nude body in its full glory. "Open," he commanded simply. I opened my mouth. He took the cum and sweat-soaked strap and shoved the entire pouch in my mouth, then looped the straps over my head. "I'm going to grab a shower, bitch. I expect that to be clean when I get back," he stated, heading towards the showers. "And don't be jacking off in here while I'm gone, bitch. No one wants faggot cum contaminating this place."
While Jake showered, I dutifully sucked his cum and sweat out of the pouch of his jockstrap like it was the nectar of the gods, all the while wishing I was in the shower with him soaping and washing his magnificent body. When he returned, still slightly damp and drying off, the sight of his naked body took my breath away. From head to toe, he was perfect. Ripped muscle, beautifully proportioned, he looked like a living Michelangelo sculpture. He walked over to me and pulled his jock out of my mouth to inspect it. As soon as he did, I bent over and started kissing his feet repeatedly to thank him for allowing me to suck him off.
"Get up, cocksucker," he ordered. I got to my feet, and Jake handed me his jockstrap. "Delivered clean, tomorrow morning, with my breakfast order. Dismissed," he said casually, turning away from me to continue getting dressed. Reluctantly, I crept out of the fieldhouse, taking the most precious thing I'd ever held, Jake Curry's football jockstrap, with me.
By the time the next morning rolled around, Jake's jockstrap was immaculate. I'd sucked on it for hours, until there wasn't a drop of his cum or sweat left in it, then lovingly washed it by hand and hung it up to dry. When Jake texted me his breakfast order, I was surprised. It was double what he normally got, including two drinks. On the way to the restaurant to pick up his food, I figured that Jake was going to allow me to join him for breakfast. Now that I'd sucked his cock, we had obviously bonded on a deeper, more meaningful level.
I was looking forward to eating breakfast with Jake, maybe even having, like, a normal conversation with him or something, and got lost in the daydream until Jake pulled into the parking lot. As usual, he pulled to the middle of the lot and parked. What wasn't usual was a car that practically followed him in and parked right next to him. As I walked to Jake's truck, I saw him get out. The driver of the other car got out and walked over and started talking to Jake. It was Tyler Morgan, the tight end on the varsity football team with Jake.
Tyler had dark hair and dark eyes, in stark contrast to Jake's golden blond, blue-eyed looks. Tyler was even bigger than Jake, standing 6'4 and 255 pounds. He was muscular, but not sculpted like Jake, bigger and beefier, with kind of a mean look. I didn't know him except by sight, but knew he hung out with Jake a lot. His sudden presence made my life a lot more complicated.
I wasn't sure what to do. I obviously couldn't follow my usual routine of kissing Jake's feet in front of Tyler. Hell, I didn't even know how I'd go about giving Jake back his jockstrap in front of Tyler. I thought for a second, then decided that the least I needed to do was take Jake his food.
I walked over and stood in front of Jake holding the bag of food and drinks without saying anything. I had no idea what he was going to do. Tyler looked me up and down as I stood there, then looked at Jake.
"So, is this the fag you were telling me about that's in love with your feet?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah, that's him. Told you I'd get you free breakfast," Jake laughed, taking the food from me.
My heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. Jake told someone about me? I was stunned. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I turned beet-red from the humiliation of my exposure. I could almost feel my world collapsing around me as I stood there. My fantasy of Jake and I eating breakfast together was exposed for the stupid dream it was; the food was for his friend, another alpha male. I was just his servant. I was crushed.
Jake snapped his fingers and held out his hand. I knew what he wanted: his jockstrap. Reluctantly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out his freshly washed jock and handed it to him, the entire time wanting to melt into the pavement. I saw Tyler snigger; more proof to him of what I was.
Jake snapped his fingers again and pointed down. Time for what was usually my favorite part of the morning: kissing Jake's beautiful feet. He was even wearing his Chuck Taylor's today, like I'd hoped. I looked down at his feet, knowing exactly what I was supposed to do, but my body wouldn't obey. So far, Tyler only knew what Jake had told him. Sure, I'd bought them breakfast and delivered it, and I had Jake's jockstrap with me. I could explain those things away somehow. But this, kneeling and kissing Jake's feet right in front of Tyler...that was unmistakable. I'd be giving him undeniable proof of what I was in front of his own eyes. My body locked up, and my mind started reeling, trying to figure a way out of this predicament. Jake snapped his fingers again, and I could see anger growing in his eyes.
I did the only thing I could think of. I ran away as fast as I could.
I didn't dare look back, but it wouldn't have mattered. They didn't chase me. I ran to the far side of the school, then stopped to calm down and decide what to do. My mind was reeling, and so many feelings were colliding inside me I started to cry, partially from fear, partially from humiliation, and partially because I was angry at Jake for telling someone.
I had a good cry, then cleaned my face off and went into the school. My mind was still in a whirl from the events of the morning, so I simply went to my first period class and sat there, brain dead. I didn't take Jake his books because I was afraid of what he would do if he saw me. It was third period and almost lunch time when I realized I had all Jake's books in my bag, since it was my job to carry them for him, which meant he'd gone to three classes with no books and no homework. Great. He was definitely going to kick my ass.
When lunchtime came around, I decided to carefully approach the cafeteria and try to see what reception I got from Jake. Hopefully, he'd accept an apology and understand why I ran. I hoped and prayed he would, at least.
As I was walking toward the cafeteria, I noticed some other students pointing at me and laughing. A couple of the girls were holding up their pinkies and waving them at me. One guy I didn't know walked past me and busted out laughing, "Hey little dick! Nice picture, freak!"
My locker was on the way to the lunchroom. As I approached it, I saw a crowd of students standing in front of it, laughing, pointing, and taking photos of something. Oh no, I thought. Oh, fuck! I was so upset I'd forgotten about the videos Jake had! How could I have been so fucking stupid!
I got close to my locker and saw it: a full color printout of the photo Jake took of me naked in his bedroom was stuck to the front of my locker. Legs spread wide, hands behind my head, and my dick, hard as a rock, on full display. I shoved past the knot of kids standing around, who immediately started catcalling me, and tried to rip down the picture. It wouldn't budge. Instead of taping it, Jake or Tyler had pasted it there, and the best I could do was scrape it of piece by piece as it ripped. I could see that a number of the kids in the crowd had taken cell phone pics of the nude picture of me. They looked like they were texting it to people. I knew it would be all over the school in minutes.
I had never been more humiliated in my life. I turned around and ran all the way home.