The email you’re about to read shouldn’t shock you, because, at this point in your life, you should know that there are some really, really off-the-wall people out there. It should, however, intrigue you. If your response to the below email is anything less than mild interest, you’re the kind of close-minded person that I would not invite to one of my sensual, semi-nude but TOTALLY non-sexual because we’re all just friends here, back rub circle parties, then lie when you ask why I didn’t tell you about it.
“Invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail, dude.”
It’s time to find out what kind of person you are — here’s the email.
Dear [Chapter President],
Hi! I guess I’ll start out by saying you don’t know me. In fact, I have no connection with (university redacted) or with any of the students there. And yours is the first, but not necessarily the only fraternity, that I’m getting in touch with. Please forgive me for using your email address, but I don’t have a snail mail address for (fraternity redacted).
I’m writing to propose something to you and your fraternity brothers. I don’t know if you have a rush week coming up for this semester, or whether or not you’ll be having your pledges do things for you as part of the hazing rituals. Most of the things are probably pretty straightforward and mundane since fraternities everywhere seem to get their pledges to carry out the same sorts of activities. Maybe you’ll have them do a few bizarre things as well, but probably not quite as unusual as what I am about to suggest.
My proposal is this: you have your over-18 pledges contact me, arrange a meeting time at a private location of their choice, and train me to be a docile and obedient foot slave, first to their own satisfaction and then, at some point, handing me over to (fraternity redacted) for a ‘performance evaluation’ so that you and/or your fraternity brothers can assess how well the pledges have trained me to serve you. (If the pledging is already over, we can skip the training part and just get on with the rest of it.)
Think of my proposal as a way to share in the experience of something unique to your fraternity, or as simply a way to relax and chill out when you’re under stress from your studies and what-not. And, for those brothers who are athletic and active in sports, the opportunity to dominate a role-playing “opponent” and put him through an ordeal that sees him forced to humiliate himself and grovel at their feet may just give them the confidence they need to go out and rout their real opponents on a court, a mat, in a pool, or on a playing field. A sort of pre-game pep rally, so to speak, to get psyched.
Granted, what I’m suggesting here won’t appeal to some of your members, maybe not even to the majority of them. But I’m hoping you’ll be open-minded and at least let all the members of your fraternity know about my modest proposal. That way they can decide for themselves if they want to take me up on it or not.
I know that some of you will initially be turned off by the thought of a guy under your feet taking orders, one who becomes subject to your every whim and desire. Usually, though, there’s solidarity in numbers: a couple of guys who are intrigued and turned on by the sense of domination and control that having their own foot slave offers can generally convince others to join in on the fun. After all, you’re training me to learn to like being at your feet, something few people, not even your girlfriends, would ever willingly consent to, unless they were crazy, which I’m not. At least I don’t think I am.
If any of you decide you want to take me up on my offer, later on you might consider using some creativity and imagination to expand on the foot-slave concept with any number of ‘games’. For example, introduce a competitive aspect by organizing a ‘foot competition’ where your slave is forced to compare and rate all participants’ feet based on a set of criteria of their choosing. Or, blindfold me and train me to learn to identify whose toes it is that have worked their way into my mouth, making me rely on my sense of smell and taste alone. You might even consider placing bets on how long it will take me to differentiate between all of your feet, and how accurate my guesses will be. For those of you who are reluctant to play along, have a drink or two and loosen up, get rid of your inhibitions, and give it a go, if only for the sake of being able to boast that one of the perks of being at (university redacted) was having your own personal foot slave available to you.
I’m being open here about what I want for good reason. I mean, how many times have you heard anyone come up to you and say, “Hey, you look beat. Hard day? Tell you what, why not take off your shoes and socks and give me a taste of what it’s like to worship your feet for you? Come on, see how much I can take of them, and for how long.” The upshot is that you get the satisfaction of being able to dominate and control me with your feet, and I get to be the servile faggot foot slave on the receiving end. A win-win situation, so why pass up on the chance…carpe diem!
I know, you’re probably thinking this is all some bad practical joke, but believe me, I’m absolutely serious, otherwise I wouldn’t have written this. I’ve had a fetish for male feet ever since I can remember, I guess because I’m basically submissive by nature and like giving in to a few good men from time to time. I have one-to-one experience under a guy’s feet, but also twice with two dudes giving me a ‘workout’ at the same time. With two it’s definitely more challenging, I’ll admit, but well worth the effort to try and please them both. If your pledges succeed in training me well and you’re pleased with the outcome, serving any combination of brothers can become something routine for me. I have no problem at all with that. Fantasy fulfilled, in fact. One more thing checked off on the bucket list.
So, what do you say? Get a hold of me. Have some fun. Make this semester one for (fraternity redacted) to remember.
FFS, aka “faggot foot slave”
I’m just going to say what we’re all thinking. President of (fraternity redacted) at (university redacted), if you don’t take this gentleman up on his offer, you’re the worst fraternity president of all-time.
Can you imagine the looks on your pledges’ faces when you tell them about their semester-long pledge task?
“Alright, guys. No questions asked here, just do what you’re told. We’ve booked y’all a room at the Courtyard Marriott every Sunday night for the rest of the semester. You are to enter the room, not leaving until at least 9:00 a.m. Monday morning. In the room, you will encounter a man whom you will refer to as “FFS.” Do not ask me, or him, what that stands for. You are to train this man. You are to train him to sit at your feet like an obedient hound and give in to your every demand. How well you train this man will be a deciding factor in your initiation. If you can’t train a man, how can we expect you to train the future pledges? We can’t.”
The crazy thing is, I didn’t exaggerate that at all. That is legitimately what this man wants the fraternity president to say to his pledges, and I love it. A few of them will probably drop on the spot, making this a great way to weed out the weak-of-mind.
Furthermore, if you put the kibosh on this man’s dreams, it means you’re anti-hazing. Not only is this man willing to haze your pledges for free (if your chapter treasurer isn’t all-in on this idea based on that fact alone he should be impeached on the spot), he is willing to literally lay down at your feet and let you do whatever the fuck you want to him at all times afterwards. He’s down to haze, and get hazed. Where else are you gonna find that? Denying this man’s request is like having a pledge beg you to whack his face with a steel pizza paddle, and you going, “Oh, you want it? Fuck that, then! Off you go.”
“Foot competitions?” Talk about a brotherhood event! And just think of the great superlative awards you could hand out at chapter afterwards! There isn’t a single girl on campus who isn’t going to let you mouth her slit after she sees the hand-engraved “Tastiest Toes” plaque that you earned hanging proudly on the wall (with our boy down at your feet, watching the whole thing go down and awaiting further instructions).
Good luck to you, FFS..
Image via Shutterstock