This story is written by David, please send comments and appreciation to voondave@yahoo.co.uk

Jason Jones, aged 21, a trainee car mechanic, was spending his Thursday evening the way he usually spent his evenings - not to mention his weekends - sitting in front of his computer, and trawling through the panoply of foot-fetish and femdom related websites that were to be found on the Internet.

Jason was obsessed with female feet. For hours on end he would stream foot-fetish related videos, deriving the greatest amount of enjoyment (and 'satisfaction') from those videos that combined foot worship with femdom.

For, Jason's most exciting, most thrilling fantasies, centred around his being in situations that involved him in actually being 'forced' to worship female feet. He loved the idea of submitting. Of being ordered to his knees. Of serving. Of being used, and abused. Of being ... humiliated.

Streaming foot-fetish videos, visiting the Forums, etc., was all very well and good. But Jason, who could hardly last two minutes' together without thoughts of demanding, dominating female feet taking over his mind, yearned for something more. Something more satisfying. Something more ... fulfilling.

Jason was just about to call it a night - it was late, and he had to get up for work in the morning - when for some unknown reason he decided to click on the 'Suggested Sites' link, which threw up some suggestions of sites he may be interested in, based upon the information gathered from his browsing history.

And, what Jason saw, would keep him from his bed awhile yet ...

SERVE OUR SOLES!

HARD TO BELIEVE, THAT WE ARE EVERYWHERE? THAT WE ARE ALL AROUND YOU?
FEMALES, WHO WANT YOU - FOOTBOY - AT OUR FEET, EXACTLY WHERE YOU BELONG?

ARE YOU A FOOTBOY?
DO YOU KNOW YOUR PLACE?
DO YOU WANT TO SHOW YOUR RESPECTS, TO OBEDIENTLY SERVE, AT THE FEET OF FEMALES?

YES?

THEN JOIN THE SOS - 'SERVE OUR SOLES' - CLUB.

NOW!!

By the time Jason had finally shut down his computer, it was well after 3 a.m. But, due to his great excitement, it was quite a while before he eventually drifted off to sleep.

For, purely on impulse, Jason had joined the SOS - Serve Our Soles - Club. It was an absolute snip, felt Jason, at a mere £100 per month. And Jason was now eagerly anticipating the arrival of his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch (which looked just like a sports/diver's watch - only it wasn't), which would arrive in the post on Saturday morning.


* * *

Jason usually enjoyed a nice, leisurely lie-in on Saturday mornings. But not this Saturday morning. For, this was the Saturday morning when his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch would arrive. And Jason had got up early, and was waiting for it; impatiently twitching the curtains, and watching out for the postman.

As soon as the postman appeared, Jason hurried to open the front door and, after signing for the discreetly marked package, he thanked the postman and then hurried back inside with his newly acquired treasure.

Jason was sitting on the sofa and, so totally engrossed, was he, in reading up on his SOS Club membership details, and the instructions as to how to set and operate his SOS Club member's wristwatch, that he hadn't realised that his mum had come downstairs, and was standing right behind him. Jason nearly jumped out of his skin, when his mum said, "Oh, you've bought a new watch, Jason, love. What's wrong with your other one, then? Is it broken?"

Fortunately, Jason had anticipated this question from his parents, and he had his answer ready. "No, Mum. This is a sports watch. I got it so that I can time myself when I go jogging," he fibbed.

Eying the package: the letter, and the other printed material pertaining to Jason's SOS Club membership, Jason's mum observed: "Seems a lot of paperwork, Jason, for a simple sports watch ..."
Fortunately for Jason, his mum wasn't wearing her glasses yet.


* * *


Jason was up in his bedroom - out of the way; he didn't want to be disturbed. Not now. And he was excited; nervous, edgy. In fact, he was almost bubbling over, with excited anticipation. Jason had set his Serve Our Soles Club member's 'special' wristwatch. It was now fully operational ... And he was receiving a signal.

Jason stared raptly at the face of his SOS Club member's wristwatch as, windscreen-wiper-like, the radar-like instrument made its repeated sweeps ... searching for a 'contact'.

Jason's SOS Club member's wristwatch had 3 lights: Red. Yellow. Green. He'd carefully read his instruction manual from cover to cover. He knew what they meant; knew them by heart now.

Red: You are receiving the signal from the SOS radio mast - but not from a female SOS Club member's transmitter. Keep searching!

Yellow: You are now in close proximity to a female SOS Club member - but your services are not required, at the moment. Keep searching!

Green: Green is for go! You are now in close proximity to a female SOS Club member, who requires your services immediately. Identify yourself to her by showing her your SOS Club member's wristwatch, and provide your services to her immediately. Serve as you are commanded.


* * *


Jason was almost hypnotised by watching the repeated sweep of the radar-like instrument on the face of his SOS Club member's wristwatch. The red light was still on. And, unless his (mule-slipper-dangling) mum was a secret member of the SOS Club who was about to require his services immediately (wouldn't that be a turn up!), the red light was going to stay on.

It was time to go out. It was 1:00 on a Saturday afternoon in July. The weather was warm and sunny, and it would be busy in town. Best of all, thought Jason, most of the girls and women will be wearing mules, sandals, flip flops ... bare feet in abundance!

Then an unwelcome, and decidedly unpleasant thought belatedly struck Jason, as he made his way to the bus stop. So ... thought Jason, with an attack of sudden scepticism, in suddenly suspecting that he'd been had; in believing that the SOS Club was just too good to be true; that he had been cruelly duped; that he had been made a prize, pathetic mug of: You "Are everywhere." And "All around," are you? ... Females, who want me at your feet. Exactly where I belong. Ha! I don't believe a word of it. Not a word! I'm a fool for signing up. What the hell was I thinking? A £100 a month! Right down the plug hole!

Jason checked the time on his SOS Club member's wristwatch - yes, it actually told the time, and so at least it wasn't totally useless, thought Jason - and he saw that the bus into town was due any moment. And he also saw, that the light on his SOS Club wristwatch was still red - surprise, surprise.

Jason boarded the bus - a red double-decker - and, as per his usual custom, he went upstairs. At first, Jason thought there were no spare seats, but then he spotted someone vacating an aisle seat about four rows from the back, on the right, and so he availed himself of it.

Then Jason glanced down again at his SOS Club member's wristwatch, fully expecting to see the red light still on - and, with a jolt of shock, he saw that it was now, and for the first time, showing a yellow light: 'You are now in close proximity to a female SOS Club member - but your services are not required, at the moment'.

Beads of perspiration had suddenly broken out on Jason's forehead. The sheer thrill of it! So, maybe he hadn't thrown his money away, after all! Maybe he wasn't pouring £100 a month of his hard-earned cash straight down the plug hole!

Jason watched the repeated sweep of the radar-like instrument on the face of his SOS Club wristwatch, and he saw the 'ping' effect as contact with a female SOS Club member's transmitter was established. By his estimation, she was sitting ... directly in front of him! Possibly at the very front of the bus.

And this was promptly confirmed, when an attractive, blonde-haired young woman of about Jason's own age, suddenly turned around in her seat and, looking past the passengers' heads behind her, she levelled her blue-eyed, knowing, brazen gaze directly at Jason. She smiled at him. And Jason thought that there was something ... predatory, about her smile.

The blonde SOS Club member was sitting with a female friend. Her friend was dark-haired, of similar age, and also very attractive, and she also turned around in her seat, to stare boldly at her friend's SOS Club 'contact'. And, their curiosity now piqued, so did every other upstairs bus passenger.

Jason was suddenly the centre of attention. He was shocked rigid, with excitement - and fear ... What if the light on his SOS Club wristwatch was to turn green? Green for go! Jason recalled the explicit instructions in his SOS Club membership letter. Green: 'Green is for go! You are now in close proximity to a female SOS Club member, who requires your services immediately. Serve as you are commanded.'

Suddenly, Jason was absolutely panic-stricken. Yes, this was what he wanted; craved for. But would he have the nerve? Would he have the guts, the bottle - the sheer audacity - if it actually came right down to it? To walk the walk - as per his SOS Club instructions - to provide his services immediately, and to serve as commanded? Right here, upstairs on this bus, in front of a load of incredulous, gawping passengers? Could he? Would he? Jason wondered, if he got the green light from the blonde? Green for go! Oh, jeeze!

As it happened, Jason wasn't put to the test, since the two young women then vacated their seats, intending to disembark from the bus at the next stop. And Jason's face had never been so red, as when they walked - sauntered, past him, like 2 super models on a catwalk - regarding him with their knowing smiles, and silently mouthing the word: 'Footboy'.

Phew! It had been a close escape, for Jason. But then ... he actually wanted to be 'captured', didn't he?


* * *


Jason got off the bus at the bus station, and he headed for High Street in the town centre.

Town was busy with Saturday shoppers, just as Jason knew it would be, and the pavements were thronged with meandering, in-no-particular-hurry, window-shopping people. Jason looked at his SOS Club member's wristwatch - and he was actually stopped in his tracks from shock and excitement, at what he saw. "Oi, pal! Watch it, will yer!," loudly complained a young man who had walked slap-bang right into the back of the suddenly and inexplicably halted Jason.

Normally, Jason would have been quick to apologise for being so careless. But, so completely engrossed, was Jason, that he had not even been aware of the collision - hadn't even heard the young man's imprecation; his peevish admonishment.

For, Jason was raptly staring at the repeated, windscreen-wiper like sweeps of the radar-like instrument on the face of his SOS Club wristwatch and, from the multiple 'pings', Jason knew that he was now getting contacts from 4 - yes, 4! - female SOS Club members' transmitters. But - darn it! - the yellow light was still glowing: 'You are now in close proximity to a female SOS Club member - but your services are not required, at the moment. Keep searching!'

So Jason kept searching. But he didn't have to look far ...

For, seated at one of the tables outside of the McDonalds burger restaurant, were 2 very attractive ladies, smartly dressed in casual, fashionable summer clothes and who, Jason saw, were both regarding him with close interest and frank appraisal - rather as though they were critically inspecting the merits of a pet they were thinking of buying.

Suddenly, and for the first time, the light on Jason's SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch turned green: Green for go! Jason recalled the instructions: 'Green is for go! You are now in the immediate proximity of a female SOS Club member, who requires your services immediately. Serve as you are commanded.'

This was it! It was really happening! Jason couldn't believe it!

And the 2 very attractive and smartly dressed ladies were now beckoning Jason to come forward ... to attend them.

Jason guessed that the 2 female SOS Club members who were rather imperiously summoning him were perhaps in their late 20's or early 30's. A little old, for me, thought 21-year-old Jason. But, that's not what this is about ...

Jason obeyed his summons from the 2 ladies. As per his SOS Club member's instructions, Jason identified himself to them by showing them his 'special' wristwatch. Though by now, of course, this was merely a formality: the 2 ladies were already perfectly well aware of who he was - what he was, that is.

"What is your name, footboy?" asked one of the 2 ladies. She had a shapely figure, and her blonde hair had a fringe, and it was worn straight, hanging down the sides of her face, where the ends curved just under her jawline. Her dark-haired - and more busty, Jason couldn't help but notice - friend had the same (bob) hair style, and they looked chic and elegant; or, as Jason put it, in his mind: well turned-out. And, Jason couldn't help but notice, either, that both of the 2 ladies had awesome legs.

"My name is Jason ... Miss," he replied diffidently; though respectfully - reverently. His voice didn't seem like his own, to Jason. It seemed somehow ... disembodied, as if he was speaking from out of a dream. And he realised that he was trembling - shaking like a leaf, in the somehow ... charged, presence, of the 2 ladies - in a sort of delicious trepidation.

"Well, Jason," said the other, dark-haired (and more busty) lady. "Get on your knees ... and start kissing our feet."

Just at that moment, a waitress was passing with a large tray of food and, at overhearing the decidedly authoritative command issued to Jason by the lady diner who she'd served a McChicken sandwich and green salad ("No mayonnaise.") about 10 minutes' ago, she narrowly avoided an unfortunate and messy accident. "Aaahhh!" she squealed, in panic, as she almost lost the precarious balance of her heavily-loaded tray when she momentarily took her eyes from it, at seeing (the rather nice-looking boy) Jason preparing to, 'Serve as commanded'.

For, Jason didn't have to be told twice! Oh! Those words - "Get on your knees ... and start kissing our feet." - were like music to his ears. Not to mention, being called 'footboy' - which Jason thought was best of all.

Jason got on his knees, at the feet of the 2 female SOS Club members who had summoned him - 'Green is for go!' - and, as commanded, he started kissing their bare feet. Tenderly, adoringly, lovingly, Jason kissed the 2 ladies' feet, as, and when, and how they were proffered to him. And, on his knees, at their feet, Jason felt as though he was worshipping at a shrine - the shrine of 2 Foot Goddesses.

On this warm and sunny July afternoon, both ladies were wearing what looked, to Jason, to be very good quality, rather expensive-looking leather flip flops. Admiringly, Jason thought that both ladies' feet looked in pretty good nick, too; recently pedicured, maybe. And their toes were coated with clear varnish - classy, thought Jason.

Jason was, now, at last, in his element. This is exactly what I have been put on this Earth to do, thought Jason, exultantly: get on my knees, and worship female feet.

The 2 female SOS Club members had both slid their bare, tanned feet from their leather flip flops and, in turn, they were proffering the soles of their feet to Jason, so as to have him lavish his slavish attentions upon them as they enjoyed their meals; and as they then further lingered, sipping a cold drink. Jason almost fainted from his excitement, at seeing such an amazing, close-up view of their bare, golden-tanned, shapely, sexy soles, right in front of his adoring face. Jason kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and he thought he could go on kissing the 2 ladies' amazingly sexy - dominating - feet for ever.

"Start licking our soles, now ... footboy," commanded the blonde-haired - and less busty - female SOS Club member. And Jason was only too happy to obey her.

To be called 'footboy', by such a woman - oh, it was too much! The incredibly thrilling word really did something, to Jason: seemed to resonate within him; vibrating in his every cell. Seemed to caress his very soul.

Jason complied in silence - his SOS Club member's instructions were quite explicit: he was only permitted to speak, when a verbal response was actually required of him by female SOS Club members.

The 2 ladies' bare soles felt slightly rough, upon Jason's avidly licking tongue, as he repeatedly lapped upwards, from the bottom of their heels to the pads of their toes. Jason was quite surprised to find that there was not an awful lot of flavour; just a slight taste of leather. But that was OK: it was the very fact that he was actually on his knees, and being ordered to perform this humiliating service for the 2 female SOS Club members - that was what counted.

Of course, these singular proceedings were not going unnoticed by the diners seated at the other outside tables. The middle-aged man at the next table was watching furtively; pretending to hide his face behind his copy of the Daily Mirror. While his wife - Jason assumed she was the man's wife - was openly gawking at Jason's antics in obvious amazement, peering over the tops of her tortoise shell glasses. "Oh, my word!" she kept repeating, over and over, as she never for a moment took her eyes away from the singular scene being played out before her, like some sort of bizarre street entertainment.

Then, it was all over, just as suddenly as it had started. The 2 female SOS Club members both dabbed their lips with their paper napkins; slid their feet back into their leather flip flops and, without so much as a word to Jason, they promptly walked away - leaving Jason still on his knees, and left looking like a right, absolute plonker ... even more of one, that is. The eyes of the diners' - and of 2 smirking McDonalds waitresses - were all focused upon the rather fascinating spectacle of Jason. Jason made a sharp exit.


* * *


Jason walked along High St. He re-lived in his mind what had just happened to him outside McDonalds. He could hardly believe it. It had been incredible. Just totally, mind-blowingly incredible; amazingly, indescribably exciting. Those 2 gorgeous women! Dominating him with their bare, tanned, oh, so sexy feet! "On your knees, and start kissing our feet," he'd been ordered. And: "Start licking our soles, now ... footboy." What a thrill it had been! To be bossed and ordered about, to be commanded - to be dominated.

Ha ha! That waitress had so very nearly dropped her tray of food! What a buzz! Awesome! And then, the 2 ladies; without so much as a word, just leaving him there like that - on his knees - as they so nonchalantly walked away, leaving him to listen to the departing, slap-slap-slapping sound of their leather flip flop shod feet, seeming as loud as whip cracks in the enthralled, disbelieving hush. How cool of them, was that!

As Jason walked along High St., so utterly preoccupied, was he, with consulting his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch, that he was quite oblivious to the looks he was getting from some of his fellow pedestrians. There was a sort of dreamy, far-away look in his eyes, and ... there was a rather obvious small dark patch at the crotch of his pale-coloured trousers - pre-cum - as a messy consequence of his highly exciting adventure outside McDonalds.

Jason checked the face of his SOS Club member's wristwatch again. The repeated sweeps of the radar-like instrument were pinging on 2 contacts, indicating that there were 2 female SOS Club members in his vicinity. He saw that the yellow light was on: 'Your services are not required, at the moment'. Then, as Jason watched the repeated sweeps searching for other nearby contacts, the green light came on: 'Green is for go! Your services are required immediately. Serve as commanded'.

This time, Jason did not even have to look for the female SOS Club member who was summoning him ...

For, Jason then felt a firm, no-nonsense like double-tap of a finger upon his right shoulder, and he turned to see a pale-complexioned, slim-figured woman of about 25, with her slightly longer than shoulder-length red hair tied with a black velvet hairband. Rather bossily, she said to Jason, "Come along! Follow me."

Jason said nothing in reply; just obediently followed behind the female SOS Club member who had so peremptorily summoned him.

Jeeze, how amazing was this! She had simply walked up to him, tapped him on his shoulder, and bossily ordered him to follow her: "Come along! Follow me," she had said. Just like that! Just as if he was of no-account - a nothing ... Just, thought Jason; as if he was a male SOS Club member, ha ha! And he was loving it! Absolutely loving it! Jason followed at her heels.

The redhead was wearing a plain, primrose yellow cotton blouse, and a light, summery, slightly darker yellow skirt that fell to just above her knees, and that had on it a printed pattern of various types and colours of flowers. Very feminine, thought Jason. Her bare, shapely legs were quite pale - well, mused Jason: most redheads don't like the sun, do they? - and on her feet she wore a pair of rather well-worn looking black flats.

What now? wondered Jason, with building excitement. And he didn't have to walk far; didn't have to wait long, to find out ...

For, upon coming to an unoccupied Perspex-paned public telephone kiosk - one of a bank of four - the redhead pulled open the door, held it wide open, and then she addressed Jason again. With an indicative nod of her head, she ordered him - and in the sort of tone that Jason thought people might use when talking to their dog - "Go on. Get in. Sit on the floor, with your back to the glass, and facing towards the phone ... Well? What are you waiting for?" she demanded impatiently.

Jason understood her question to be rhetorical, and so he remained silent. It was not that Jason was being unco-operative - heaven forbid! He was simply momentarily frozen in place; perplexed, at hearing the redhead's decidedly bizarre instructions.

It was cramped, inside the telephone kiosk. Very cramped indeed ... Well, at least it was when you were sitting on the floor, with your back propped against the glass wall of the kiosk, with your knees bent, and with your feet pressing into the opposite corners of the tiny space.

Without another word to Jason, the redhead stepped between his spread-open legs, and then she pulled the telephone kiosk door closed behind her ... them.

As she got her purse from her handbag, and then rummaged about for some change for the phone, Jason stared at the printed floral pattern on the redhead's yellow summer dress. Well, it was hard not to, since the light, thin material was tightly hugging her shapely buttocks, just in front of and above his face, and ... he could clearly see her white knickers, underneath.

The redhead inserted some coins into the slot, punched in some phone number buttons and, a moment later, Jason could clearly hear the rather loud ringing tone as a phone rang at the other end of the line. He heard it ring four times, and then he heard an answering-machine kicking in: "Hello! You've reached Isobel's phone. I'm not in, right now. But if you leave your name and number, I'll get back to you." Then there were three beeps ...

Sounding disappointed, the redhead exclaimed, "Oh! For Chrisake, Izzy. You're never in when I---"

Then the phone at the other end was suddenly picked up. "Donna? Is that you? Sorry about that, I was busy with ... something upstairs. Ryan's here. So ... Wassup?"

The redhead - Donna - slipped a bare foot from her right, well-worn flat, and Jason had but a split-second in which to register her sole's deep, pale arch, which contrasted starkly with the pinkish-red colour of the bottom of her heel, the ball of her foot, and the pads of her toes, before it was firmly planted onto his face: the ball of her foot, settling comfortably upon the bridge of his nose; the bottom of her heel, pressing firmly into his upper forehead, for grip and stability ... The redhead - Donna - was actually using his face as a footrest, while she made a goddamn telephone call! Jason couldn't believe it.

"Hi, Izzy! I'm glad I could get hold of you. The thing is, I'm in town and, well, I've just found out that 'Chopsticks' - you know, that new Chinese restaurant, in King Street? - is opening tonight, and I wondered if you and Ryan would like to make up a foursome with John and me?"

The redhead's sole felt warm and clammy on Jason's face; seeming to cling with the all but irremovable suction power of a leech, and, he was still struggling to believe the incredible situation that he had actually found himself in, as he listened in to both sides of the phone conversation.

"Hey! That would be great, Donna," enthused Isobel. "Me and Ryan would love to join you and John, at Chopsticks," she said brightly.

As the redhead settled into the phone conversation with her friend - girl talk: catching up on this, that, and whatever, swapping tidbits of saucy gossip; generally chewing the fat - she also gradually settled more and more of her relaxing weight against Jason's ever so conveniently positioned face. Firmly and securely pinning the back of Jason's head to the telephone kiosk's glass wall, she was perfectly confident as to the stability of her footrest. And, the warm, clammy, sweaty sole of the redhead's right foot was pressing into his face so hard, and with so much unrelenting pressure, that Jason more than half expected the redhead to push his head right through the kiosk's glass, at any moment.

Then the redhead slightly adjusted her resting foot's position; the undersides of her toes closed around Jason's nostrils, and he suddenly got the full, heady hit of her in-between-the-toes foot stink. Jason's head reeled. The redhead's powerfully pungent, sour-vinegary foot odour, was the most wonderful, dizzying, intoxicating aroma that Jason had ever experienced; seeming to flood every cell in his body, as he inhaled it. It was as if he was sniffing at the perfume exuded from a bottle of concentrated aphrodisiac, labelled: 'Just for Jason'.

The effects upon Jason were instantaneous, and there was a great, tumultuous upheaval in his mind and body, as if caused by excitement overload. His heart seemed to leap about in his chest like a cat in a sack, and ... there was a rapidly developing bulge, at the crotch of his pants.

"Izzy," the redhead eventually said, "I'm calling from a public phone box, and with all of our gabbing, ha ha!, I've run out of change," she told her friend. "Could you give Chopsticks a quick ring for me, please? I've provisionally booked a table for four, for eight o'clock. They said they would give me an hour to confirm; after that, the table would be up for grabs again. Could you give them a ring now, to confirm the booking?"

Jason was quietly going crazy. Going out of his tunnel-visioned, one-tracked mind. If this continued for much longer, he would surely become delirious, from a massive overdose of pure happiness ... The redhead was using him as her footrest. He was sniffing the redhead's in-between-the-toes foot stink, and revelling in the amazing sensation of feeling the flesh of her warm and clammy sole pressing firmly into his face; the bottom of her heel, pressing firmly into the middle of his forehead, and keeping his head securely pinned to the telephone kiosk's rear glass wall. Jason was in heaven.

"No problem, Donna. I'll call Chopsticks right away. Me and Ryan will see you and John there, then. Bye, Donna; see you later!"

"Thanks, Izzy, you're a star. See you there, then. Bye, Izzy - oh!, and sorry, if I, er ... interrupted you, earlier, ha ha!" replied the redhead, who then finally replaced the receiver, ending the phone call. Then, and without so much as another word to Jason, the redhead removed the sole of her warm and clammy right foot from Jason's face, slipped her foot back into her black, well-worn flat, and exited the telephone kiosk.

Jason didn't move. Couldn't move. Couldn't possibly. He was too busy thinking about - re-living, in his mind - what had just actually happened to him ...

... A slim-figured redhead of about 25 - Donna - had actually come up to him in the middle of High St., tapped him on his shoulder, commanded him to follow behind her, and then ordered him to sit on the floor of a public telephone kiosk - one of a bank of four - so that she could use his face as a footrest while she made a lengthy telephone call to her friend, Isobel. And, so of no-account; so, neither-here-nor-there; so ... insignificant, was Jason, to the redhead, that throughout the entire duration of her phone call, the redhead had not made even one, single, solitary mention of Jason's even being there.

Oh, man! thought Jason, as he remained sitting on the cold, dusty concrete floor of the public telephone kiosk that the redhead - Donna - had just vacated, without so much as a parting word to him. How cool was that! How degrading! How humiliating! How totally, amazingly, awesomely brilliant! This, is what it's all about! thought Jason, ecstatically. A £100 per month, to be a member of the Serve Our Soles Club? It was the bargain of a lifetime!

Jason could still feel the amazing, electrifying sensation of the redhead's warm and clammy sole, firmly pressing into his conveniently positioned face, as she so casually used it as her footrest. He could still smell the sharp, sour-vinegary tang of her intoxicating, pulse-raising, in-between-the-toes foot stink, that had so totally blown his one-tracked mind.

An acute sense of the most dire urgency gripped Jason, and of a magnitude that he had never experienced before. The bulge in his pants was getting more and more uncomfortable; becoming quite intolerable ... It was no use: no, it was no use, there was no avoiding it. It couldn't be helped. It just, simply, could not be helped. Jason was giddy with desire. He craved sweet, sweet release. Nothing else mattered - nothing! He could not deny his all-consuming, irresistible need, a single moment longer.

Jason unzipped his trousers, and his best friend sprang out like a Jack in the Box. Eminently familiar in his hand, Jason began teasing, and gently stroking his best friend. Soon; his sense of dire urgency coming to the very fore, utterly overwhelming him, Jason started his well-practiced, jerking, pulling and tugging; rhythmically, faster and faster. Then, Jason was past the point-of-no-return: he couldn't have stopped himself now - even if he wanted to. Ah, man! Any moment now, and ...

The door of the public telephone kiosk - one of a bank of four - was suddenly yanked open. A man in his 50's was just about to step inside the kiosk ... Until he saw Jason, sitting on the floor - saw what he was doing.

"What, the ...? God in heaven!" exclaimed the man, in utter disbelief and shock.

"What? What is it, Desmond ... Oh, my, God!" squeaked the woman who was looking over the man's shoulder - who Jason assumed was the man's lady wife.

Jason barely noticed them - this was the jerk-off of his life. Jason then moaned, sounding as if he was in distress; in pain, even, in the mind-shattering throes of a violent, totally unbelievable climax that shook him to his very core. Jason could hardly bear the incredible pleasure, could hardly cope with the sheer, unadulterated bliss of his release, as wave after wave of climactic convulsions ripped through his body. Oh, the power of it! Jason's eyes rolled up, so that almost only the whites were showing, as his best friend spurted and sprayed gout after milky gout over him. Jason had never experienced anything even remotely like it before.

"Good God in heaven!" exclaimed the man, incredulously. "I think we'd better use another telephone kiosk, Daphne," he said.

"Lord help us!" shrilled the horror-struck Daphne. "What is the world coming to?"



* * *


Jason was walking along High St. again. His eyes seemed unnaturally bright; as if lit from inside, with a maniacal light. And he was looking a little dishevelled; though he might have remained unworthy of any particular note, were it not for the dark, splotchy patches on his trousers and T-shirt.

It was 3:30 p.m. and the town centre was still thronged with people. Jason didn't notice the odd looks that he was getting from other, approaching pedestrians - pedestrians, who were making it a point to get out of his way; to give him a wide berth on the pavement.

For, Jason only had eyes for his SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch. He was watching the continuous, windscreen-wiper like sweeps of the radar-like instrument upon the face of his wristwatch. Present status: it was pinging on 3 contacts. They were close by. The yellow light was on.

Jason's appetite was well and truly whetted ... he intended to feast.

The light on Jason's SOS Club member's 'special' wristwatch turned green.

It was green for go!

Jason's eager, seemingly unnaturally bright eyes scanned the vicinity, looking for the female Serve Our Soles Club member who was summoning him ...



THE END.