My First Experience
by author unknown
All foot fetishists can remember the first foot experience they had. For some it does not come until adulthood, but for most it happens as a child. For me it was when I was eight years old. My sister was 14 years old and we had been home together after school together. I kept on bothering my sister to play with me, but she wanted to watch TV. I decided to try and piss her off and started throwing pillows from the couch at her. She caught on to this pretty quick, and when I threw my next pillow she ducked. Fortunately it missed my sister and hit a vase knocking it over and shattering it, changing my life forever. I could not believe it. I was going to be in deep trouble. All my older sister could do was to laugh at me. She immediately started to tease me, and tell me that I was going to be in big trouble when mom and dad came home. I probably overreacted being a little kid and told my sister she could not tell, that I would do anything. She asked me you will do anything. I said yes. I was desparate because that vase had been in our family for several generations. My sister saved my behind that day. She immediately got out the glue and put the vase back together. It only broke into three pieces amazingly. She was able to put it back together and I was off the hook. At least with mom and dad. My sister still had other ideas. I did not notice my sister had taken several pictures of the broken vase. The next day after this incident I arrived home from school and Immediately my sister layed down the law. She told me that I had agreed to do anything and she was planning to hold me to it. She showed me the photos and told me that she would show mom the pictures if i did not do what I was told. I could not believe it I was my sisters personal slave. My servitude started simple. I was to run simple errands for her. We also always watched waht she wanted to watch on TV and I never disagreed with her around Mom or Dad. That was actually pretty tough for an eight year old. After the first couple weeks I had become use to the routine. Little did I know my life was about to change forever. I came in and sat down on the couch. My sister had not arrived home yet. After about fifteen minutes she stormed through the door. She looked terrible. She had to walk home from school because she had missed the bus. I could tell she was not in good mood. After yelling and cursing me about her awful day she told me I was going to suffer. I immediately switched the TV over to the show she liked to watch. She sat down on the couch and kicked her boots up on my lap. She told me to take off her boots. I thought about objecting but remembered the pictures. I unlaced the boots which were hot to the touch. After pulling the first boot off. I began to choke from the awful smell that was released. I then began working on the other boot and finally removed it. My sister was wearing some thick wool socks. They were wet with sweat from her long walk home. I was glad I would be away from them in a minute. I took a pillow from the couch and propped up her feet and started to head towards the floor to sit. She immediatley asked me where I thought I was going. I said what. She said that today the routine would be different. Since she had had to walk home from school her feet were sore and tired and that I was going to rub her feet. I could not believe it. She reminded me of the pictures. I began rubbing her feet. I was a little embarassed and disgusted at first but after awhile I began to enjoy myself. Of course I did not let my sister see this. Preety soon we could both here mom come home and pull into the garage. I immediately thought my time was up at her feet. I was wrong. She immediately told me that I was not to stop. I could not believe it, she was going to embarass me in front of mom. I picked back up her feet and began rubbing them again. Mom walked in and needless to say she was a little shocked. She asked what I was doing. My sister immediately spoke for me. She told mom that I rubbed her feet everyday and that I liked it. I could not believe she lied like that, but it was partly true. My mom told me I could stop if I wanted to but my sister shot me a dirty look. I continued to rub. She milked it for all it was worth. That night at dinner my sister talked about her rough day, and how she missed the bus home. Then mom had to mention that I was nice enough to rub her feet for her and how sweet it was. I thought my foot rubbing days were over, but my sister made it a new part of our routine. Each day she came home, I was to rub her feet or else the pictures would be revealed. I did as I was told. Each day Mom would come home and be shocked to find me rubbing sis' feet. Pretty soon mom got it in her head that I liked to rub feet and pretty soon I was rubbing her feet too. This continued for several years until my sister went to college. I occasionally got the pleasure every once and while when she visited on weekends. Sometimes she would bring home friends with her. They were shocked to see that her little brother rubbed her feet without complaining. Many commented on how they wished they had a little brother that compliant. I attribute this childhood experience to my current fetish for feet. It was definitely a turning point.
