“Don’t forget to donate what you can to the charity drive this week; every school supply and piece of clothing counts” Mrs. Anderson added as everybody zipped up their book bags and prepared to leave. “Why the hell are we even doing a charity drive, I mean who has extra shit to just give away?” Cooper replied so she couldn’t hear him. “I actually have a few things I’m gonna donate” I replied. “Give up on writing that book already, man?” “Yeah I just don’t have enough time with all the school stuff” “Such a generous guy, Tommy…I wanna be like you when I grow up” “Shut up” was all I said back with a playful shove to my mouthy friend before we headed out. I made time on my way to lunch to drop off a few unused notebooks I intended to use for writing my novel. I’m aware how old fashioned it was to handwrite stuff but I always liked how it felt to see all my ideas laid out page after page.

At lunch I sat at my usual table outside and despite being a senior, a few of us liked to hang back and give the vending machines some business. “How the hell is it already 75 in February?” Dustin pointed out between swigs of Mountain Dew. “Global warming” I answered with a smirk. “I don’t know about all that, dude…government conspiracy” “It’s not a conspiracy – that’s why it’s 75 in February, genius” Blake corrected with an exaggerated expression, making me and Brett giggle at Dustin’s expense. “Whatever, man. I’m just saying it doesn’t add up to me” “Maybe you should do your biology report on it so you can understand it better” Tucker suggested. “Or you can get another zero” Brett interjected just as our gym teacher walked by. “Dustin, I know you didn’t get another zero” Coach Taylor added with a flashy smile without even stopping on his way to the gym. “Of course not” “That’s what I thought” he replied with a hand in the air to give a half-hearted ‘see ya later’. “He loves raggin on me, what’s up his ass?” Dustin asked in annoyance. “I don’t think he even knows my name; I think he messes with you because he likes you” I pointed out. “Or maybe he just thinks you’re a dummy” Tucker quipped, sparking a roar of laughter from the picnic table as we continued soaking up every second of the short break.

The next day I walked into third period, my first class of the day and I could tell the air was different; the energy in the room was more alive than usual for some reason. People were giggling and whispering but I hadn’t heard any fresh rumors that typically provided such enthusiasm. “What’s going on?” I asked Brett as I sat in my desk next to his. “Dude, the craziest shit is going around!” “What?” “Some kind of journal; it’s full of guys from the school. It’s about like feet and tickling and just weird stuff, man. It’s wild” he explained with giddy amusement as my stomach dropped and I processed the news. It couldn’t be…there was no way. I kept that my private journal in my desk at home, there was no way anyone had seen it. My heart began to thump like I was in a horror movie and I looked around the room to locate the journal.

“Where is it? The journal” I pressed while trying to mask my panic. “I think somebody in Jameson’s class has it. Some guy found it in the bathroom yesterday” Brett explained. I quickly recalled that there was a bathroom right next to the donation box and it hit me – I’d accidentally put my private journal in the box and it was now making its rounds among the senior class. I felt light headed like I’d fall out of my seat but I had to play it cool; nobody knew who wrote the journal yet and I prayed my name wouldn’t get thrown out as a possible author. I tried to remember any specifics that might point to me and my head quickly filled with instances I'd referenced and details that could connect to me if the right person read it; I had to find that journal before anybody put the pieces together.

The journal was something I often debated throwing away; a personal collection of guys at the school like a fetish Burn Book of my thoughts and fantasies. I knew it was risky to have a physical notebook but like I said, I always liked the more old-fashioned way of recording whatever came into my head. I’d taken pictures from social media and created a page for every guy the fetishist in me lusted after, each page complete with their picture and whatever I wanted to include about them. I can’t fully explain why I had it, maybe because it was something special that only I got to enjoy but now…it was everybody’s but mine.

I just never thought anybody else would ever see it. Nobody knew I was into feet or tickling; as far as I know nobody even suspected but having those secret thoughts out in the open was like living with my heart outside my body, a nightmare scenario I feared would expose me or worse. "Class...class! I won't wait on your conversations to end for me to start my lesson. Now pull out your books and turn to page 99" Mrs. Weathers instructed as my peers mostly settled down. I swear the clock moved half as fast that day and I was fighting sweat from forming on my forehead until finally the bell rang. "Hey, did you watch..." "Sorry, man. I've gotta hit the bathroom" I lied, cutting Brett off mid-sentence and hurrying out the room to locate my journal.

I practically ran down the hallway into that bathroom next to the donation box, looking around to locate the journal but it wasn't there. "Shit!" My feet couldn't move fast enough until I was out the main building and shuffling through everybody changing classes, searching high and low to find it before anyone could figure out it was mine. I could feel my face getting hotter and my limbs becoming Jell-O with severe panic and I eventually stepped into the gym to make sure I covered everywhere I could. My eyes scanned the area until I saw a black notebook on the edge of the bleachers. "Yes!" I quietly shouted at the small victory before moving closer to grab it but just as I started toward the bleachers, I was stopped cold. "Tommy, don't you have class right now?" Coach Taylor asked, proving he did in fact know my name. "Umm yeah, I do. I uhh...I thought I left something here so I came to check during class change" I spat out. "Oh, well the only thing left behind today was this notebook. Is this what you're looking for?" he asked, holding up the very journal I was so desperate to recover.

"...maybe, can I look through it to see?" I asked, hoping to avoid tipping him off. "Sure" Coach Taylor replied as he handed me the journal. I tried to keep my hand from shaking when I took it and pretended to flip through it to check if it was indeed mine but what I saw only shook me more; all the pages I’d written on were ripped out. I went through the whole thing but nothing was there except pages I hadn't used, relief beginning to set it in until I realized the only page of mine that was left was Coach Taylor's. My fear spiked again and I tried to think of what to do without giving myself away. "It's uhh...it's not mine but I can just throw it away if you want" I offered. "Yeah go ahead. I looked through it to see if I could find a name but there's not one" the former jock added with a cocky smirk like his ego had been boosted from the entry about him and his perfect feet.

I turned away to leave the gym before I could start sweating until he stopped me in my tracks, “Ya know, my girlfriend wants me to get a pedicure with her after work but since you’re willing to lick my feet clean…I guess I can cancel” Coach Taylor added, paralyzing my whole body with icy nerves of horrified disbelief. “Uhh…what are you talking about?” I questioned with my best acting skills. “I think that journal is yours…why else would you come looking for it like you’d lost your wallet” “…Coach, it’s not…it’s not mine…really” “You don’t have to lie to me, Tommy…I’d be more worried about whoever was on those pages somebody ripped out. Those guys might not be as cool with you checking out their feet” Coach Taylor explained like something from the kind of video I’d jerk off to while my mind scrambled to combat his conclusion, that was until he started toeing off his left sneaker.

“I should really get to class…I don’t wanna be late” I tried to remind with my lips barely able to function as he flexed his socked foot above the ground like he was just stretching. “You alright there, Tommy?” Coach Taylor asked with a brow of teasing superiority as I struggled to hide my excitement, trying to stand in a way that didn’t give me away. “What do you think about these socks? They’re nice and all but they don’t let my feet breathe that well” he explained before taking the rim between his fingers and peeling it off, ruining any cool I had left or chance of denial. I almost fell to my knees at the sight of his perfect bare foot, watching his impossibly smooth soles wrinkle in the air and his delicious toes wiggle to lose the sock fuzz between them. He smiled at me like he knew he had me, commanding my attention as I studied every inch of his gorgeous foot from only a few yards away.

“I knew it haha, you are the foot freak” Coach Taylor taunted with an arrogant laugh and I forced myself to look away, now fighting off a massive rager in my jeans. “Coach…I uhh I don’t” “Relax…I won’t tell anybody” “…really?” “Yep, because you’re gonna be my little foot slave” he explained as he put his sock and shoe back on. “What? I…you can’t be serious” “As serious as that boner in your pants” he assured with another smirk as he stood up from the rolling chair. I could feel the embarrassed heat from my face, speechless at the surreal situation but Coach Taylor wasn’t asking and I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I refused; he and his dreamy feet were in control.

“Good spike, Anthony! That’s what I’m talking about!” Coach Taylor encouraged from the bleachers of the gym 20 minutes later as his next class played volleyball on the court, all of them completely unaware I was under his feet between the seats. The socked 11s rested on my face as I soaked up the intoxicating scent, every breath dominating my senses with the sweaty, cheesy goodness that I’d dreamt about enjoying for years. “Come on, DJ – hustle!” he shouted as he pressed his toes over my nose and started rubbing the sole of the other foot across my mouth, cranking my 18 yr. old arousal to new heights. The hint of what his socks tasted like covered my lips like a savory lip balm and I loved every second but I wasn’t expecting him to shove a few toes in my mouth until he surprised me with it, even wiggling a little between my cheeks until I was salivating.

He smiled toward the court like he was impressed with the senior volleyball game, a few of the guys playing even featured in my journal and of course now he knew that. I’d pieced together that he was the one who’d ripped out the pages just from details he mentioned and that only gave him more power. With his toes covering my nose and other set steeping in my mouth, he gave me no choice but to experience the full glory of his macho feet, soon telling me to suck his toes under his breath. By legs trembled a bit at the command but my tongue followed suit, running along the cotton toes before wrapping my lips around them and sucking the tangy row. Coach Taylor snickered to himself at how much control he had over me and his other foot started ruffling my hair as if to show me he could do whatever he wanted but my adrenaline was running too high to care.

“Alright, new team in, everybody else on the bench” he casually announced like he was just doing his job like normal, not having his feet worshiped during class. I slowly grew more confident sucking his toes and starting slurping with my tongue until he was all I could taste, seemingly satisfying the school bombshell before he reached down and slipped the sock off his other foot. I was too wrapped up in what I was doing to notice until I felt the fleshy warmth melt across my face, followed by him suddenly pulling his socked foot from my mouth and taking that one off too.

“Now lick em’ clean…I want them spotless” he instructed without even looking away from the court and I obliged without question, letting my tongue lather the right foot as he held it in front of my face. He started with his heel, leaning it into my mouth so I could slurp the whole thing like a Popsicle I was trying to wear down. He tasted fucking incredible, better than I ever imagined and it only got better when I got to the rest of his foot, flattening my tongue and glazing up the flawless pink sole until I dipped into the toes and started back again. His arch wasn’t too high or flat and my tongue slipped along it with ease like his feet were made to be worshiped, even getting a slight giggle from him every so often when it tickled too much. Knowing his feet were ticklish only drove me crazier and he didn’t even reprimand me when I got a reaction out of him, only taking control a little more and moving his foot around to avoid any more slip ups.

“Between my toes” he added before holding them above my lips and I happily gave in, snaking between the first and second ones and even teasing the undersides before moving down the row and watching him relish in the blind obedience. I couldn’t get over how soft his toes were, like my tongue wasn’t even good enough to clean them but I must’ve been doing ok because he moved on to the other foot before long. “This one too” he instructed and like before, I dove in. I started on the middle of his sole this time, licking from side to side with slow, passionate enthusiasm to savor every second. Every minute or so he’d crunch his toes and the rest of his foot would wrinkle for extra texture on my tongue until I was eventually back at his tasty toes, licking across the entire row to begin with and focusing on the plump ends until they were glossy and my mouth was saltier than before.

I was concentrating on his pinkie toe when my body froze once again, “Hey, Skyler, come over here for a minute” Coach Taylor instructed and I was immediately surging with fresh anxiety; he was in my journal too. “What kind of shoes are those?” “Oh, they’re uhh Adidas” “The new ones?” “Yeah” “They look about my size; mind if I try them on real quick? I’ve been thinking about getting some” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t be told no. “Haha ok yeah, sure” the lovable geek agreed and slipped off his sneaker before tossing it up to Coach Taylor. I could barely breathe, terrified Skyler would see me under Coach Taylor’s feet but at the same time I couldn’t believe what he was doing. He didn’t give a shit about what shoes Skyler was wearing; he was fucking with me…and it was working.

All I could do was watch from beneath him as he toyed with the shoe a little in his hands before bringing it down lower but instead of trying it on, he placed it over my nose, forcing me to smell the remanence of Skyler’s feet, the ones I’d never even seen before. Coach Taylor wiggled his free foot in place to make it look like he was trying the shoe on behind the seat while I breathed in the wonderfully tangy sneaker, shocked he was willing to tease me this hard. “My bad, man. I didn’t realize you weren’t wearing any socks” Coach Taylor pointed out as if just to make my heart flutter. “Yeah I forgot to put a pair in my gym bag” the fellow senior explained as I realized Skyler Hewitt’s bare feet were FINALLY on display and I couldn’t even see them. “Thanks, I think I’ll get a pair of these” Coach Taylor soon added before tossing the shoe back and giving me a quick smirk, knowing I was practically vibrating between the seats.

Only a couple minutes later the bell rang, signaling an end to class. “Alright, guys; that’s it, see you next time” Coach Taylor announced, letting me know it’d been an hour already. I could hear the class walking off the court and I waited in suspense, not having been given his feet again to worship and considering it was the end of the day, I had no idea what was coming next. “I bet you liked that didn’t you? Were they as good as you imagined?” “…better” “I guess they are pretty nice aren’t they?” he asked as he held one foot up to admire, inflating his ego a little more. “I think you’re my new favorite student, Tommy” “…thanks but I should probably get going…Mrs. Brand is gonna be looking for me in yearbook” “You let me handle old Mrs. Brand; she won’t mind if I borrow you” he explained as I wondered what else he had in mind.

A week later there was a knock at Coach Taylor’s office, pulling his attention from the sports schedule on his desk toward Mrs. Brand standing in the doorway. “Mrs. Brand, what can I do for you?” he asked with the charm he was known for. “I was looking for Tommy; I know you were helping him with a report but I didn’t know if he’d finished or not” “He actually ran to the bathroom but no, we’re not done yet. It’s taking a little longer than he expected but he’s a hard worker so I’m sure he’ll be back in yearbook before you know it” Coach Taylor explained while I lapped up his heavenly feet under his desk. “Oh, alright. I understand; he’s lucky to have you helping him” “Happy to do it. I’ll make sure to send him your way when we’re through” the hunky 32 yr. old assured with another flashy smile before the door closed back and it was just us again, coach and student, master and slave. Thank God I lost that journal.