Idk if your requests are open but if they are: could you turn me into Chris Hemsworth's shoes or socks?

Celebrity Collection

Could you do a macro story with Darren Criss with feet involved?

Content: Macrophilia, feet

Darren enjoyed meeting his fans, signing Autographs and hearing how he brightened their days in all kinds of ways. This went well most of the time, with the fans being considerate of Darren's time.

But sometimes people like Will came around. Will really was the opposite and Darren quickly would notice that. He was a fan of Darren', but didn't know his place as a fan.

He would run up on him all excited. Darren would see him coming, grinning to himself being used to this. He found Will's energy contagious and a breath of fresh air in a way, being that most of the fans would be a nervous mess whenever their excitement died down a little.

This did last shorter than expected however, as Will stuck like glue to Darren. Darren found it awkward as Will kept following him. He had already signed an autograph so he was confused.

"Umm, do you need anything else?" Darren said with an awkward smile, trying to sound as kind as possible.

A series of things that sounded like demands commenced. "Could you sign this... could you show me....could you make a video to...." Darren quickly got annoyed, but then smirked to himself knowing the solution.

Darren arrived at his mansion, with the fan behind him accepting the request, or demand, of him wanting to be shown around the house. Darren gave him a tour before allowing him to sit on the couch.

After having to hear alot of "requests" from Will again, Darren snapped his fingers. Will paused for a little, confused about the gesture, but continued with an invisible shoulder shrug.

At this point, Darren could sit back and watch his magic, LITERALLY, happen. Will started noticing after 5 minutes.

"What is happening? Why does everything look bigger? Why do you look bigger? Why do I look tinier on this couch? Did you put something in my drink?!" Will said starting to panic.

Darren rolled his eyes at his quick rambling but smiled, now genuinly.

"You know, all these demands you have for me. You are a fan, but do you think I would do ALL that for free? The catch is; every demand you made shrunk you a little. You're basically paying you your size!"

It sounded like a fairy-tale, but the proof was in the pudding; he was in fact shrunk. Will was quite tall standing at 6'1, and he atleast shrunk to a good 5'2.

Will may have been a demanding person, but he now knew to shut up; he wasn't stupid. Darren was amused by this sudden silent display.

"You know, I have a proposal for you. I appreciate my fans so I would never shrink you without giving you options to grow back!"

Darren lifted his legs up and put them on the footstool before him. "You know, I have been walking around all day with you leeching behind me. How about... you worship my feet! I'll grant you some of your size back once I am satisfied! You'll just have to clean them every day and you'll be at your original size in no time!"

Will stood up in disgust. This was unreal. Was this guy serious?, he thought. "Hell no! I love you but I am not going to lick sweaty feet are you serious! I'll be fine being 5'2... goodbye..."

As Will turned around to leave, Darrel started laughing. Not only was he amused about the length that he had to go through to get him away from him but also: "You mean 5'1?"

Will turned around with wide eyes and looked at himself. Had he shrunk again? Was he bluffing? "So are you going to worship my feet?"

"No!"

"Have fun being 5'0 then! Sure you don't wanna worship my feet?"

"No, stop!"

"Have fun being 4'9 then! Sure that you don't wanna reconsider...?"

At this point, Will was seeing how he was shrinking. He wasn't bluffing. Panic started seeping in.

"PLEASE STOP THIS...!"

Darren laughed and wiggling his toes on the ottoman.

"Are you going to worship my feet?"

Will froze, even though he had said it a million times. He realized that it was all he wanted, but Will was hard-headed.

"I AM NOT GOING TO WORSHIP YOUR FEET! NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO." He screamed.

Before he could say anything else, he noticed how the shrinking picked up pace. "Wtf...why are you shrinking me... no..no..no..no..wtfwtfwtf...." He whispered to himself.

Darren laughed again and stood up. "Funny how out of all the words and rambling you chose to say "no" a million times. You just set yourself up. You know how you demanded all these things from me? You saying no to MY demands triggered forced payment, which means that every time you say no in the presence of me, you will shrink!"

Will almost pissed himself as Darren's voice became louder and louder by the second while he said it. He chose to shut up again to prevent further shrinking but it didn't stop?!

"Oh and you know... since you said it so many times your body has to catch up with the payment. You're doomed! I think you'll be the size of my sole!"

And he was right, after 20 second of continuous shrinking, Will was now the height of Darrens' sole. He looked up in fear at Darren's giant face, smirking down at him.

"You're the perfect height now! You'll have no trouble licking between my toes!"

...

...

After 10 days of training- which included inducing absolute fear into the now tiny, sometimes dangling him off his feet as he held on a toe for dear life, begging to lick his feet willingly -, Will was Darren's full-fledged tiny footslave. He slept in a tiny cage, if he ever got any sleep. Darren liked using him as an insole, feeling the tiny body struggling under his feet. Will ofcourse also worshipped feet every day, licking away at his sweaty soles, collecting the toejam and dirt between his toes. It took awhile to get his feet clean, but Darren didn't care.

"It's my time to make demands!"

Master Jacob

Content: feet, armpit tf

Jacob had a strange power that he discovered growing up. It allowed him to change anything OR anyone to change into a single hair on any of his body parts. He found it rather useless himself and had never used it; until he entered the findom scene.

Subs would come serve him at his house. He would allow them to worship his feet, demanding quite a high tribute after.

Master Jacob quite enjoyed the feet worshipping, feeling the slave's tongue lapping at his sweaty soles. But one thing that slowly began to bother him was how slaves would talk so much before the actual worshipping, nagging him with useless questions and comments.

That's when he found the perfect solution for this; silence them... forever.

The first step was thinking about a place on his body to keep them. He didn't like growing facial hair, so it felt like he was all out of options.

One session at the gym changed that however. Looking in the mirror, he flexed his bulging muscles as sweat dripped from under his armpits. A sadistic smile filled his face. "A perfect place for torture." , He whispered to himself.

So that's what he did. Whenever a sub mouthed more than 5 sentences instead of using its tongue to lap at his soles, or when a sub's tribute wasn't to his liking, their vision would suddenly go black, an undiscribable smell engulfing them as Jacob either decided to brainwash them into mindless worshippers or keep their consciousness, torturing them, making sure they would smell and experience every second of being Master Jacob's armpit-hair.

Jacob knew that the experience would be so intense for them that his sweat would eventually wash away their life, making them lifeless hairs under his armpit, but he didn't care.

Either way, Master Jacob would enjoy having slaves lapping at his feet, getting richer with a nice bush forming under his armpits!

This still applies! PM me or Ask me (feet, domination, TF, macrophilia etcetera.!)

If you have any requests for a post (doesnt have to be Chris but the men in my bio are my favourite), just PM or ask me!

Chris Hemsworth's Chair

Content: Chair TF, domination, feet

Jeremy had been Chris Hemsworth's assistant for a few weeks. From day one he was thrown into Chris's busy celebrity world. Chris was filming at the time, so Jeremy sat around him managing his schedule, appointing and organizing meetings. They didn't talk to each other much, the only conversation being about the many meetings Chris had.

That changed however when Chris's less busy chedule allowed him to have more time for himself. Jeremy thought that with the schedule change, that he would have the same, but it wasn't. The first day, he was immediately scolded for not having Chris' breakfast ready.

Jeremy didn't understand, he wasn't a personal cook, but he stayed silent and apologized.

"I am sorry Sir, I didn't realize that cooking meals for you was one of my tasks."

"Why do you think I hired you?" Chris said disgusted before walking away with his plate.

Jeremy's perfect image of Chris slowly crumbled away. He desperately tried to satisfy Chris, making sure breakfast, lunch and dinner were done on time. Jeremy vacuumed, cleaned the floors, tables after Chris was done eating, ironed his clothes. Jeremy basically became a maid... or in other words; a slave.

Chris' communication with Jeremy was reduced by the day. This did give Jeremy more stress, the approval or scolding that Chris had given him before giving him atleast some sense of direction.

It came to the point where Chris didn't even look at Jeremy. He would come home, Jeremy would stand by the door to kneel down and delicately remove his shoes. It was humiliating but Jeremy complied, not wanting to anger Chris after he scolded him for having to remove himself. Chris would sit down and wait for his dinner to be put on the table while Jeremy crawled under the the table to give Chris his daily foot massage. The smell from his sweaty feet bothered Jeremy, but he had no choice.

...

...

One week later. Jeremy had now accepted the fact that he was a full blown slave instead of an assistant. He acted like a footstool whenever Chris watched TV, Chris' heavy legs aching his back, massaged his feet several times of the day, was made to eat his plate on the floor since Chris wasn't "comfortable" seeing him eat on his furniture and he was made to sleep on the floor for the same reason. During his footstool duty, Jeremy was becoming nervous with Chris' sighing as he constantly adjusted his heavy legs on his back.

 "You really are useless, even as a footstool." Chris said eventually. Jeremy's heart skipped a beat. This was the first time in a week that Chris had spoken to him. "I am sorry Sir...I will do better..." Chris suddenly pushed Jeremy away with his feet. "Footstools don't speak, don't you understand that? Now go prepare dinner." Jeremy felt ashamed once again before he hurried to the kitchen.

Jeremy came out the kitchen with several plates on his hands and arms, expecting Chris to sit at the table, but something was off. Jeremy was met with Chris standing next to his chair, staring at him. An awkward silence filled the room.

After 10 seconds, Jeremy spoke. "Umm Sir, dinner is ready.." A frown filled Chris' face.

"How am I supposed to eat without a chair?"

Jeremy couldn't help but look confused as the chair Chris had been sitting on every day was literally next to him. Silence filled the room again, but after a few seconds Jeremy gasped realizing what Chris had meant. He quickly served the plates on the table, shoved Chris' old chair aside before getting into footstool position. Only this time, a lot more than only legs and feet were gonna torture Jeremy's back, but 220 pounds of pure muscle. Chris sat down as Jeremy tried to suppress a grunt from the unbearable weight, his arms trembling. The sounds of cutlery and a satisfied sigh was heard as Chris began eating his dinner.

Chris hadn’t verbally said it, but it seemed like he was satisfied with Jeremy acting as a chair as he told him to get into the position more and more, to the point where Jeremy became Chris’s human chair. Jeremy realized this when Tom, his new “personal assistant”, walked out the kitchen with his breakfast. He was horrified, thinking that he was fired, but quickly realized that his new “position” was the one he was in, as Chris walked in and sat on him.

Not only did Chris use Jeremy inside his mansion, but Chris decided to use him outside of it too. People were shocked at first seeing Chris un-ironically sit on another human but he explained that it was consensual and that he “begged” to be used like that. When Chris started bringing him to interviews, the interviewers often attempted to talk to Jeremy while he was used as a chair, wanting to know “why”, but Chris cut them off with: “Furniture doesn’t speak, let’s get back to me.”

One month later. Jeremy had now become a full-fledged human chair. He was stripped off his clothes but some shorts, gagged and his hands and feet were chained together, making it even harder to crawl. He slept at the dining room table in the chair position, often being woken up by Chris’s ass making himself comfortable on his back waiting for breakfast.

What Jeremy didn't realize is his life was going to change even more after Chris was done with breakfast. He noticed Chris moving more on his back than usual, enjoying the feet massage that Tom was giving him under the table. Chris seemed to be done with dinner after 40 minutes but continued to sit on Jeremy's back for another 2 hours. Jeremy looked into his peripheral vision to see Tom's confused and tired face. He had been massaging Chris' feet for over 3 hours, but knew not to stop.

After another 30 minutes of silent torture for both, Chris finally spoke. "You have actually been a competent chair this month. I think I am gonna reward you with something." Jeremy was eager, had this finally paid off? Chris stood up, Jeremy remaining in his position.

Suddenly Chris' feet filled his vision. "Kiss them." Jeremy didn't hesitate for a second. He bent down, showering Chris' feet in kisses, which he had done alot before becoming a chair. Chris removed his feet and the moment he did that, Jeremy felt his body shaking before everything went black.

...

...

Jeremy woke up to be met with the ceiling of the mansion. He immediately noticed that he couldn't move, not even his head. Where was he? What happened?

All his questioned were answered as an ass, which he immediately recognized as Chris' filled his vision as it descended down. Everything went black, Chris' ass smushed into Jeremy's face, but it didn't feel like his "face". After a few seconds, Jeremy realized that he had become an actual chair. He heard Chris sigh again. "Well this is your reward; being my personal portable chair!"

"I thought long about what kind of chair I would want to turn you into, but I think I made the right choice turning you into a portable chair. You feel good on my ass, I can take you anywhere and the attention won't ever be on you again, you'll just be a regular chair." Chris said satisfied. "And don't worry, I know I turned you into a chair without your consent, stripping you from your human life, but I consider this a reward. I'll even reward you with my farts daily, just be a good chair and absorb them for me."

Those were the last words Chris would directly say to Jeremy. Chris would start using him as a regular portable chair, slowly forgetting about "Jeremy", the "personal assistant" he had hired.

SHARK BEACH with Chris Hemsworth (2021)

Chris Hemsworth's Hidden Power

Content: macrophilia

Chris was an open book to everyone around him, using his charisma to lighting the mood in every situation. What they didn't know though, was that he had a hidden power inside of him.

He could grown himself into gargantuan sizes. Chris already was a giant at normal-size, so you can imagine how scary it would be seeing him towering over a city.

And that's what he started doing. He knew that doing it on the earth that he was in would be too much of a headache, so he decided to teleport himself into a alternate-copy of earth. Here he could go loose.

He grew himself to a appropriate size to be able to enjoy himself crushing the cities, climbed over the mountains where he had teleported himself and revealed himself to the first city.

A giant shadow engulfed the ground, people started panicking as Chris crushed them into paste, a grin forming on his face.

....

....

After his 7th city, Chris sat down for a moment as the 8th city slowly crumbled before him. He held a building in his hand, slowly crushing it into dust as 4 fighter jets flew towards him firing missiles in desperation. Chris grinned at them. The explosions genuinly felt like tickles against his impenetrable skin.

Destroying the rest of this earth was gonna be fun.

Grayson Dolan's new pair of socks

Dylan, a fan of Ethan and Grayson had won a giveaway which included him being flown out to meet the Twins.

He was beyond excited, having watched them for years. Ultimately it didn't disappoint as he enjoyed his time at their mansion.

At the end of the day, they wanted to end the day with a picture for him to remember this experience. After this Dylan stood up, wanting to prepare to say his goodbyes but suddenly 2 hands sat him down again.

Dylan looked at the Twins confused. "Hey hey why the hurry! Let's take another picture but let us give you our surprise gift!" Ethan said hurrying out the room with Grayson following behind him.

Dylan wondered what it was but they returned fairly quickly. "Close your eyes!" Grayson said with a grin with someone behind his back.

Dylan complied. After a few seconds he felt something wet on his lap and a foul smell hit his nose like a truck. "Ugh..." He couldn't help but let this out as he looked away. Had they given him blue cheese? He heard Grayson giggling, was this a prank?

"Alright, open your eyes" He heard the Twins say simultaneously.

Dylan quickly looked at one of the Twin's amused faces trying to hold in his laugh before looking down. He was met with... cotton.... socks... white... no.... once white socks?

He looked up again, looking for some kind of explanation. The moment he looked up, everything went black.

....

....

Dylan woke up in the dark, unable to move. He tried to scream but it was like his mouth was completely stuffed. What is this cheesy smell....? Where am I....? Someone please help....!

"Dylan, say cheese!" Dylan heard Ethan say, which would be the last time Dylan would hear his name. What Dylan didn't realize is that the Twins had planned to turn him into some fresh pair of socks for Grayson to wear since he was out of them. He would be used for weeks... maybe months... absorbing Grayson Dolan's footsweat just to turn into the smelly socks they had presented him, another fan.

The Tyrant Thor's New Doormat

Disclaimer: This is a TF story inspired by a series that was written by the amazing @inanimatetffantasies. I suggest you all to read all his Mighty Thor captions before reading this one!

Content: (doormat) TF

Thor had just left his chambers to get ready for his weekly parade. He had these parades held to make sure that his human pets didn't forget to praise their God and Savior. You had been kneeling at your post in the Throneroom, waiting for your God to leave to start your most important task of the day.

You felt the ground shaking and bowed down as Thor passed you with his chamber slaves crawling behind him, ready to serve him at every whim. When he was out of sight, you came out your bowing position and started crawling to your starting point.

Your main task everyday was to clean the floors of the Throneroom. You were considered one of the more competent ones, being one of the only ones not to be replaced within a year from all the thousands of posts throughout the palace.

While crawling you first followed the massive sweaty footprints that Thor had left behind, the musky smell making your head light. You quickly lapped up every footprint, the guards chuckling at this display before starting your daily task.

5 hours later, you finally were done. The ground started shaking more intensely by the second, which was the sign that your God almost arrived at the Palace. You knelt down at the Throneroom-door and bowed down again as the 2 guards opened the door.

Thor walked in with his heavy boots, he walked past you and you immediately went to work again. Thor always came in with his boots dirty, which meant that the floors that you had just cleaned would be stained again. That's why you crawled behind him hastily cleaning the dirty footprints he left behind before he would sit on his throne.

Thor sat on his throne and inspected his throneroom. Your heart beat out your chest, waiting for his judgement. Then he finally nodded to his guards, which meant that the floors were properly cleaned. He never acknowledged you, hell; you only dared to look at him when he gave his approval or disapproval.

After a few seconds of enjoying farting into the rebels-turned fart cushion, Thor snapped his fingers and 2 slaves appeared. "Your God is tired from the long day He has had. Clean my boots from the filth slaves." They immediately went to work.

You were still bowing down but couldn't help but take quick glances at the slaves lapping at his Mighty boots. You were jealous, those slaves were so lucky to be so close to their God. After what seemed like the 100th glance, you suddenly were met with deep blue eyes. You immediately looked away as your face went crimson red.

You heard the loud finger-snapping from Thor again and yelped as you felt yourself being lifted up. You looked at the smirking guards in panic before looking down at the floor. You had fucked up. You now were kneeling in front of Thor'a throne. You immediately bowed down again, hoping for your God's mercy.

Then a chuckle was heard that shook the whole palace. "Little pet of Mine, you have not displeased your God, so do not worry. I can feel your whole little fragile body shaking from fear. It has come to my attention that you have taken a liking to my Mighty boots?" You sat up and nodded obediently, still avoiding eye-contact. You immediately thought about the possibility of him turning you into his boots. That would be a dream, but then you remembered that he already rewarded slave#7293 (slave Cory) with this gift.

A chuckle was heard again. The ground started shaking as you looked at your God's legs moving up from his throne. He was walking towards you. You immediately bowed down as you felt the Godly presence of Thor before you. You could see his boots inches from your head.

You heard a snap from his fingers and you suddenly were met with the ceiling of the Throneroom. You had been turned onto your back. Then your God appeared in your vision as his blue eyes pierced into you. You asserted your gaze even though it was almost impossible.

What happened next isn't what you would have ever imagined. An unbearable weight suddenly was felt on your stomach. You looked down to see Thor's boots on your body; he was standing on you. You now couldn't help but look up as Thor looked back with a grin. "It has come to my attention that my little pet has been disappointed about not being turned into my Mighty Boots." He grinned and you became even redder, he had read your mind. "Unfortunately, that blessing has already been given, but you, my little slave, have been loyal to your Allmighty God, so I shall reward you."

He took another step on your chest, your grunting increasing. This made him chuckle again. "It is quite amusing how you are struggling with this weight when I have reduced my Godly weight to make sure you weren't going to explode. But also, it seems like you enjoy being trampled on, don't you slave?"

You didn't know what your God was talking about, but then you realized; you were hard as a rock. You had been so busy trying to remain still with the unbearable weight on your body that you didn't realize how arousing you found this. "Instead of you cleaning the dirt, I will give you the privilege of your God quickly cleaning his boots on you."

Before you could even process what he said, you suddenly looked down and.... his boots were going into you? No... your stomach was flattening... no... your whole body was flattening. You panicked as you felt yourself becoming shorter.... were you shrinking? No.... you felt yourself becoming wider as well. Suddenly you didn't feel your legs or arms anymore and the weight of Thor's heavy boots on your chest was disappearing too. You suddenly realized that your face was the only thing that was left, but your face wasn't going to be untouched.

You felt your tongue being forced outside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt it widening... ALOT! It was like your tongue was rolled like dough to the point that it covered your whole face but your eyes. Your tongue also turned into a.... brown colour? Realization hit: you were going to become a doormat for your God.

The transformation stopped. Thor looked down at his new doormat before stepping on it. You felt dirt collecting on your tongue as he took his first wipe, the weight being unbearable as you your tongue smushed against the rest of your face. You were estactic though. You were now closer than ever to your God.

"You will make a fine doormat for your God. If I feel satisfied enough about the cleaning of my boots after wiping them on you, I will regularly rewards you with some wipes of my sweaty dirty barefeet after walks in my royal garden. Now collect the rest of this dirt to thank me." He laughed wiping his Godly boots some more times until he was satisfied, teleporting you to the Palace door exclusive to the Almighty Tyrant Thor. You were going to serve him until he didn't find anymore use of you.

Hired as Tom Holland's footslave

Content: Feet

You had been searching for a job in your area for some time. One day your best friend that heard about your job hunting called you to tell you that an actor sought a personal assistant. Not wanting to give out any more details, even after begging and asking for any additional information, you just went to the address that he gave you to meet your new employer for a job interview.

You stopped and gasped at the size of the huge mansion. Having checked the address to make sure you weren't at the wrong one, you hesitantly parked your car. You walked towards the door, rang the bell and the door opened and you were met with someone that you immediately recognized as a typical "butler". "Hello, are you Y/N? Your appearance matches the information we received." You nodded but then were confused. "Who sent my information? And why would this actor want a personal assistant when he already had a butler?", you thought as you followed this butler through the huge mansion.

After going up the stairs you started noticing a pungent smell of something that you couldn't describe. It was a mix of a cheese and vinegar. It didn't seem to bother the butler strangely enough. "You ready to meet your new boss?" You were interrupted by the butler who was looking at you. You replied with a simple "Yes." before the butler opened the door and waited for permission to enter. "Sir, your new "personal assistant" is here." He said with a slight amused tone towards the end of the sentence. He looked back at you and nodded, giving you permission to enter.

You entered the room and when you did this the butler stepped away and you audibly gasped as you stumbled back at the sight of the person that was going to be your new boss: it was Tom Holland. Not only this made you stumble, but the smell that was now 10 times more intense was making your head light-headed.

"Hello, this is perfect timing actually!" Tom said smiling with his British accent. He was exercising on a blue mat, with gym equipment scattered throughout the room.

You were still starstruck but after a few seconds you mentally slapped yourself awake. "H-hello Mr. Holland, i-it's a pleasure to meet y-you." Tom smiled as he stayed in the position while you 2 began having some small-talk.

"I can't believe I'll be a personal assistant to THE Tom Holland." You exclaimed after having become more comfortable by the talk you two were having. Tom and the butler who was still standing beside you exchanged a look before Tom looked back at you. A weird feeling filled your stomach. "You haven't received the details of the job you will be doing have you?" You became crimson red while shaking your head no. "U-uh, my friend just said it was an open position of a personal assistant..."

Tom started laughing. "You mean the same friend that told my butler you had a foot fetish?" Your breathing and heart started pounding as he said this. Why would he tell anyone about my fetish? Tom continued. "And I think you noticed the strong smell of feet when you entered the room. My feet have gone through a lot, especially since I just finished shooting my movie "No Way Home", so I need someone to take care of them, a foot slave of some sort. And that person is going to be you!"

You stumbled backwards. You did have a foot fetish and had also spent hours staring at Tom's feet and hoped to get some glances of his bare feet as his personal assistant, but this was too much. You slowly felt yourself losing consciousness as your eyes went to the back of your head, the strong pungent smell that Tom revealed to be his feet smell being the final sniff you inhaled before everything went black.

You opened your eyes and you were met with some sort of ceiling, your eyes having to adjust to the bright light. Then you froze for a few seconds, everything that just happened hitting you like a train all at once.

This train of thought was interrupted however with the intense foot smell from the room assaulting your nose. This was even more intense, to the point that your eyes started watering. Still laying down on your back, you adjusted your head looking behind you slightly and you gasped: there was a heel in your sight. You flipped yourself over and now you were met with 2 pairs of smelly sweaty feet, which you immediately recognized as Tom's with the spider tattoo plastered on his right sole.

You couldn't understand why you had been in this position but after 10 seconds of absolute silence with the memories what had happened before you passed out slowly seeping in, you crawled forward and stuck out your tongue. After some hesitation your tongue touched his sole and you started licking, the salty and cheesy taste of sweat entering your system. Tom moved his feet a little bit but stayed in the same position. "Welcome to your new life." You heard him say as you continued lapping at his soles, knowing you had passed the job interview to become his new foot slave.

The Tyrant Thor's New Boots

The slave, Corey, was doing his assigned tasks for the day, sweeping and carefully dusting away at the floor and various trinkets and treasures of his god, Thor's room. Today, the slave was expected to clean his entire personal chambers and then polish the gods powerful boots. The boots, he knew from previous chores, were made of fine Asgardian leather, and was the only thing from Thor’s outfit. The slave took great care in the shining of the boots, enjoying the whiffs of godly musk from them, and was careful to not scuff and damage them.

But today, the slave was confused, and worried. The boots were missing. The slave had done everything he was told to do for the day except the shining of Thor's boots. He was about to leave to find a supervisor, hoping that he would not be punished for leaving his post, but the door to the hallway was locked. That is when the slave heard a deep, thick, powerful chuckle. “Looking for my boots, puny human slave?” It was Thor. He stood there happily smirking, waiting for an answer as he tapped the toes of his hairy bare feet on the floor. The slave could see the imprints the sweaty toes left. Thor enjoyed seeing the boy fluster over his feet. Puny human men lusting over his body, his sweat, his goldy musk… It amused the god immensely.

“My boots are gone, little one. I felt like a replacement, I deserve some new boots, made with strong soles and the finest asgardian style leather, wouldn't you agree?” The slave just stared at the God looming above him, and then back to the huge, sweaty feet. They glistened with sweat, and the stench of a god’s musk quickly filled the large room. It made the slave hard, much to Thor’s amusement. His feet had such a power over the bot he could not think straight. “But, that is why you are here, my little slave, as before I enjoy my new boots I require these mighty dogs served, which I expect you to do, Now...” Thor snapped his fingers, and a bright golden light enveloped him and his slave, and when it faded, Thor was laying in bed, with his arms behind his head, showing his hairy pits, of which each hair was either a punished human or a piggy slave that was rewarded with eternal damp Thor musk. The slave was in front of the bed and was face to face with Thor’s soles.

“Get to work!” Thor demanded behind a smirk as he pressed his feet into the slaves face, as magical ropes tied the boys hands together behind his back. “You will serve my mighty feet, with just your mouth and face, It amuses more me that way, and I know how much you desire to serve me” Thor snapped his fingers again, and the slave felt his face pushed by a otherworldly force into the feet. Corey started licking and rubbing the mighty, slightly dirty but not so slightly stinking feet, nuzzling his face into the gods warm skin. The slave heard Thor moan happily and felt his resolve grow, he would serve the mighty tyrant Thor, with all he had, hoping to please him and maybe be rewarded. Of course, Thor was reading the slaves mind the whole time he relaxed and grinned, as he was planning on rewarding his favorite boot and foot slave from the start. “Yes, little human, You shall be rewarded, I will quite enjoy wearing your flesh as fine, tanned Asgardian leather almost as much as you will.” The slave felt his heart skip a beat and his cock throb extra hard as he heard his master snap his fingers. Corey felt his arms turn smaller and faded into his torso, as did his legs. He would have fallen down to the floor as a result, but his face was stuck on Thor's feet, cemented in place by some power, like a cosmic glue. Thor just lay back on his bedsheets, also former slaves, as he chuckled. The god's laughter resonated through Corey's body as its flesh turned a dark brown, flatting into the sole and wrapping up around Thor's calves. Corey moaned before the browning flesh covered and sealed his mouth and nose, and then his eyes as his cock flattened into the boot sole, with the other boot sole now being the former Slaves former face. Thot watched the transformation near its end and pulled his feet apart, splitting the new sentient foot wear into two pieces. Now Corey was wrapped around his God's feet as Thor’s new boots, Thor's new Property. He could still smell, feel and taste the intense warm prison that was Thor's feet. Thor leaned up and rubbed his meaty hands against the Asgardian leather that was now Corey's soul, flesh and life. “Ah Yes, little slave, You have indeed made a glorious pair of boots, I shall wear you for centuries to come. I am very pleased with you. Now, thank your kind god!” Thor got up and walked to his throne. His every step a thundering stomp for the new boots to endure, and endure they did, with great enjoyment as their minds adapted and rotted to better protect and comfort the mighty, hairy feet and drink up all Thor's musky, hearty sweat. Thor hummed as he asked a guard to bring him some captured rebels to make into meat and ale to enjoy while his boots rubbed and worshiped his feet. “Humans always make for perfect property” Thor chuckled to himself, as he sat on his throne and went back to ruling over his tiny planet earth full of his human pets...

Dirty feet

Master Grayson and Ethan posing with Their new foot-slave.

you want this?

If you have any requests for a post (doesnt have to be Chris but the men in my bio are my favourite), just PM or ask me!