Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Socks, A Love/Hate Relationship

From an aesthetic standpoint, I've always thought a clean pair of socks was really ... well, gorgeous. I wouldn't evens say hot, just "gorgeous." I really have no idea why, but I know that in 6th grade (just under two years before I realized I like boys) there was this skater kid who would walk around class in socks and I always found my eyes wandering whenever he did so. I might have just thought it was cool in that it was slightly rebellious, but the aesthetic somehow stuck. Fast forward over a decade and, as I find myself increasingly interested in foot worship and similar degradation I've had to revisit socks. In a few scenes recently I've been made to service the Dom's socks and sneakers for some time (which I absolutely HATE doing, despite the aesthetic appreciation) in order to earn the privilege of servicing his feet. It ended up being really hot in a degrading way because it made made me anticipate it so much more I'd find myself whimpering unintentionally. That being said, I stumbled upon this first pic in my collection and got me riled enough I had to search for more. Incidentally, if anyone knows the guy ..... *whistles innocently*






3 comments:

  1. I've always liked socks from the humiliation stance. As a teenager, I played poker with a friend and the bets got into 'outer space' with odd things like pushups, eating a spoon of mustard and dumb things like that. I made a bet that the loser had to hold the winners entire sock in his mouth until he won another game or for 20 minutes. Long story short, you can safely assume I lost that bet and the rest of the games.

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  2. Nice .. much of my beginnings with fetish stuff (at lest bondage and tickling) started with a "dare game." Basically like the weird bets except without any pretense, just drawing a slip from a box. Funny how reflecting on stuff like that we can see that we knew what we were into years before we were even aware of it.

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  3. You're absolutely correct about knowing what you're in to without realizing what it meant. I remember distinctly as a little kid pretending I was tied to my bed posts or rubber banding my toes together because it just seemed fun to feel captured. I'd purposely put gravel in my shoes in elementary school while on the playground because the uncomfortable feeling brought awareness to my feet.

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