The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

School Foot Daze

By Bruce Hardcastle

“Janet’s feet stink.”

I overheard this one afternoon in the University’s ‘Artistic’ Club—basically a room where the freaks and geeks who indulged in any sort of creative endeavor could kill time in between classes.

It was a small room, more so when a bunch of the club members convened there, with a rickety old couch and cushions all over the floor for those too late or too scared to grab a seat on the former. The people who spent time there were an eclectic but fun bunch, and I found them to be pretty entertaining as well. It also helped that the ratio was almost five to one where women and men were concerned.

So it was kind of strange to hear something like that come up in a conversation. Granted, it was exactly said out loud for everyone to hear, but it was odd to hear the two ladies talking discussing something as random as their fellow club member’s foot odor.

Janet had been part of the club long before I’d joined, a year older than me, and kept to herself most of the time. She was cute—not exactly goth but pale with black hair, so the look was definitely there. Throughout the semester, whenever I saw her she always seemed to be wearing a hoodie, as well as a pair of chunky heeled knee-high leather boots that had certainly seen better days.

I noticed that, mostly due to the fact that I had a bit of a fetish for women in boots. That’s where the goth comparison came from actually—when I was in high school we had a few girls who were into that subculture, and I enjoyed glancing at their boots wherever I had the chance.

So you could say that while Janet and I hadn’t really spoken more than a few words to one another since the semester had started, I was certainly aware of her.

That said, I couldn’t understand why the girls were discussing Janet’s feet, nor why it mattered. With my headphones on but my music off, I listened for a little longer out of curiosity.

“Oh, I know. I tried to warn Scott about it last month but he didn’t listen.”

“Well, that explains a few things.”

I didn’t know Scott but having only been in the club a month that was to be expected. I didn’t know what things were being explained, nor would I as the girls moved their conversation out of the room and left me alone to ponder the oddity of it all.

It didn’t make much sense, seeing as no one ever really took their shoes off in the club room, and, as far I knew, no one had complained about any unwanted scents during any of the meetings I’d attended. The reason for their conversation was beyond me, and it was very strange.

But I didn’t realize how strange. Not until a few weeks later.

My last class of the day had been canceled and, rather than head straight home, I decided to go hang around the club room for a little. I figured maybe one of my friends would be around, and if not then I could get some reading done in silence. When I opened the door though, I quickly discovered I was wrong on both accounts. The only person inside was Janet.

She was sitting on one of the cushions—she hated the couch—with her back to the wall, and her nose in a book. I didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb her, and instead took a seat on a cushion across the room from her. I didn’t even think she’d noticed me enter, not until she gave me a soft “hey.”

I looked over and saw Janet peering at me from over the top of her book, her hazel eyes gazing inquisitively. I offered her a greeting in kind then opened my bag, figuring I’d get a start on my course readings. Janet went back to her reading as well, and for a few minutes, both of us remained silent.

After a while though, I started to notice something. Having spent countless hours in the room since the semester had started, I’d more or less grown used to it’s ‘eccentricities’. Spend enough time somewhere and you’ll end up familiar with all the sights and sounds therein. Or in this case, the smells.

Now the room didn’t usually have an odor, not unless someone had brought food or there were a lot of us packed inside, and even then they were the sort of scents you got used to. But this was completely different. Whatever it was, it was something I’d never encountered.

The smell was faint at first, and I honestly thought I was imagining things. But after taking a few sniffs of the surrounding air, it was plain to see it was real, even if I didn’t know what, exactly it was. All I knew was that whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

I couldn’t put it into words. It was like someone had mixed all the best herbs and spices and perfumes from around the world, then added your favorite meal into the mix and let it set. It was magical, and with every sniff, I found myself desperate to know its source. I didn’t have to wonder long.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice said, and in my daze, it took a few minutes for me to realize it was Janet. Her boot was in her lap, and she was looking at me inquisitively.

“Yeah,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure if I was or not. I felt a little light-headed but forced myself to give her a better answer. “Do you smell that?”

She blushed a little then smiled. “Sorry about that. My feet can be really strong sometimes.”

Suddenly I remembered the conversation I’d heard and slowly realized that what I was smelling was Janet’s foot stink. I should have been disgusted, or at least a little confused given how the other girls had talked about it, but I couldn’t find it in me to be either. “It’s alright,” I uttered eventually, surprised by the sound of my voice. I sounded like the drunk at the end of the bar and had to admit the light-headedness I was feeling certainly reminded me of being intoxicated.

Janet shook her head. “Lots of people tell me my feet stink... I try to keep the smell in my boots, but I’ve had these ones for a while. Guess they aren’t working as well.” She stretched out her legs to accentuate her point, and her boots—less than a meter away from me now, grabbed my attention.

While it wasn’t the first time I’d stared at a woman’s boots—let alone Janet’s—I tended to be a little more sneaky about it. Today though, the thought of subterfuge or hiding my gaze didn’t even cross my mind. Honestly, at that moment, almost nothing did.

All my thoughts were starting to fade into the background, shrouded by the fog of Janet’s ever-growing foot scent, wafting out from the cracks of her leather boots.

Do you remember in those old cartoons, where the steam from a pie forms into a hand whose beckoning finger draws the character’s attention? This was like that, only in my case, the ‘hand’ grabbed me by the chin and slowly pulled me forward.

I don’t know who was more surprised as I began to crawl across the floor on all fours, but seeing as Janet didn’t even bat an eyelash, it was probably me.

She let out a small giggle at the sight of me crawling towards her but didn’t say anything at first. It was like this was the most normal thing in the world for her. My face was inches from her boots, drinking in the scent from as close to the source as was possible before she spoke again. “It’s weird. the smell has a strange effect on some people. Most don’t like it, but some—mostly guys—catch a whiff and can’t get enough of it.”

I nodded absent-mindedly, not caring about the details, or much else to be honest.

Without another word, Janet reached down and undid her boots, my glazed-over eyes watching dolefully as she slowly removed them. Much as I loved boots, that particular fetish of mine paled in comparison to the one forming for her feet.

Before I knew it the boots were off, and there they were her bare, pale, sweaty feet.

The scent coming off them washed over me, stronger now that it was free from the confines of the boots, and the moment it entered my nostrils I could feel my cock begin to strain against my boxers, pointing down to the floor like a divining rod. Any thoughts I may have had left in my head melted away as the blood went directly to my dick.

Janet, grinning devilishly, began to move her feet in front of my face, back and forth and up and down, my eyes unconsciously following along with every change in direction. In my dazed state, I barely heard the words she had begun to whisper, but they were there, mixed in with the incredible scent filling the room around me.

“Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breath out. The smell goes in, the mind goes out. The smell goes in, the mind goes out.”

Over and over she said the words, and after a while, another voice joined in—my own, though I was barely even aware of it. Janet’s mantra was sliding into my ears just as her foot scent was going up my nose, a dual assault on me that was rendering my mind fuzzier and fuzzier and my cock harder and harder.

By now, she’d stopped moving her feet and my head -heavy as it was getting—drooped forward, only to be caught by her waiting toes. Laying there, my nose buried in the soft folds of her stinky, sweaty feet, I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Light as a feather and blissfully content, her words echoing in my now empty mind.

But Janet wasn’t through, and with my face pressed to her feet, she started to gently sway them side-to-side, rocking my sleepy head like a mother guiding her child to sleep. My cock grew harder the more her foot smell was rubbed into my face, and when she teasingly said the word “cum” I knew it was an order, not a request.

I exploded in my pants with an earth-shattering orgasm, and if not for Janet’s fee holding my head, I’d probably have hit the floor and stayed there, drained, exhausted, and enslaved. But she lifted my face up with her feet so I could look her in the eye, and she smiled at the likely stupid but content expression I was wearing. “Did that feel good?” She asked, and I nodded completely spent. “Thought so... Guess I’ll be doing a lot of thinking for you now, won’t I?”

There was no answer needed, Janet knew what was going through my mind. Her foot smell filled my nose and lungs and brain, and it was all that mattered to me anymore. All I wanted was that smell, and I would do anything for it. I was Janet’s foot slave, and I was happier for it than I’d ever been in my life.

The door to the club room opened, and a voice—one of the ones I’d heard talk about Janet’s feet—rang out, almost indignantly. “Dammit Janet, not another one?”

From her seat, Janet shrugged. “Guess I need new boots huh?”