Sand Cake
Copyright 2016 Simplemind

More time has passed already than Dean dared to keep track. Was it more than an hour already? Two?! It certainly felt that way! At any rate, this was going on for too long now, that's for sure. All evening long, ever since Garret, the sturdy cat that was Dean's roommate, came back from work, the fennec fox was forced to tend to his friend's tired feet.

His tongue was terribly sore now. Even worse was the overpowering taste in his maw that resulted from the black cat's feet being trapped inside his work boots for the entire day. The hard labor on the construction site Garret worked on did the rest to make this task as unpleasant as possible for Dean.

"I could get used to this..." Garret murmured in his recliner. The selfish feline was relaxing and watching TV all the time, while Dean massaged his paws which rested comfortably on the small footstool for him to do his work. "Having you down there after a long day at work..." he smiled and poked the fennec's cheek with one tow. "This is a treatment fit for a king!"

Growling, Dean took his aching tongue from the man's enormous pink pads just long enough to hiss, "Don't get too accustomed to it, your majesty. If you think I would do anything like this ever again, you're wrong!"

"Your majesty?" Garret mused with a smirk. "Could get used to this, too!"

The fennec snorted dismissively before he pressed his tongue back between Garret's meaty, black-furred toes. By this time he knew his roommate's feet inside out.

"But you're probably right," the cat said. "This has been going long enough. You must be tired from the same work all evening long! How inconsiderate of me."

"Thanks god!" Dean burst out as he flinched away from the wet paws. "I'll have to brush my teeth for an hour!"

But as though the fennec wouldn't have said a word, Garret went on, "I think it's about time for something else..." Making the comfy chair creak under his weight, Garret leaned to the side and took something from the floor. When he came back up, he placed his earlier discarded work boots between himself and Dean, who was still kneeling on the ground. "You can continue with these," he said and leaned back.

Disbelievingly Dean stared at the worn shoes in front of him. The dark, brown leather boots had served Garret's feet for a long time now. And it showed! The material was all rough, stretched and bent. The shoelaces were fringed and used and both shoes were stained with all kinds of dirt and dust from sole to tongue.

There was no way Dean would get his mouth even near to those things! Still not able to accept what was asked of him, he looked into Garret's smiling face. "This is a joke, right?" the fennec asked, shaking his head slowly. "I'm not doing this! Not in a million years!"

"C'mon, Dean. Do I have to threaten you with the belt again?"

"Fuck the belt!" Dean grumbled. "Beat me up all you want! I am not licking your shoes! Period!" he said and crossed his arms. "Did you even look at these? They're dirty! Disgusting! God knows what shit you stepped in!"

"This is only dust, nothing dangerous," Garret assured him. "Have you never eaten a sand cake in preschool? This will only be half as bad."

"NO!"

Grumbling Garret reached for his pants. "If your tongue is not licking my boots by the time the belt is loose," he warned, "I'll whomp your ass until you beg me to have them shoved in your face!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

But the only answer that could be heard was the metallic click of the buckle being opened.

"Garret... Come on! Please! This is really not my thing."

Slowly the cat pulled the long leather strap free from its fasteners.

"Garret, stop it! I'm not doing it, okay?!"

And then the tip of the belt slipped from Garret's pants and dangled in front of the fennec's face.

In a second the mighty cat had grabbed the much smaller fox and bent him over the footstool, pinning him forcefully down with a heavy knee in his back. Quickly he wrapped the belt around his paw and formed a small loop for maximum efficiency.

"Garret! Stop it, right there!" Dean yelled, but his pants got pulled down and his rump exposed anyway. "Garret, no! Please don't!" he pleaded, struggling vainly on the small furniture. But the first hit was as sure to meet its mark as day follows night. And Garret meant what he had said a moment ago.

With a loud slap the belt met his bare cheeks with a force that made him scream in pain. Hopefully the neighbors wouldn't hear. The second hit sent the fox tearing up.

"Will you do it now?!" Garret growled over him, but Dean's answer was only a pathetic sob. Then another blow followed. And another one after that. "We can do this all evening long, Dean!" he said and beat him again.

The pain was almost unbearable. The cat hit him as hard as he could. But the gross work boots that stood right before him to see, reminded him of what he would give in to. He really, really didn't want to lick them.

Another blow followed, and then two more. "Come on now, Dean," the cat said and continued his whomping. "All it takes me to stop are four little words: 'I will do it'. Just say them and this is over."

"I... wi-ughr..." he stammered under tears.

"What was that, Dean? I couldn't hear you," Garret laughed and slapped him once more on his poor, unprotected butt.

"I WILL DO IT!!!" he screamed as the pain shoot through his body one more time.

Like a magic spell, the beating stopped after he had spoken those four words. What followed, though, was barely any less unpleasing.

In a swift motion Garret lifted his weight from the poor fox and pulled him along by the scruff of his neck. Dean noticed only now how hard the knee had dug into his lower back. A nasty pain remained.

Holding Dean in one hand, Garret shoved the footstool aside with one paw, before he dumped the sobbing fennec fox on exactly that spot. "Get on all fours!" he commanded and sat back down in his recliner.

Whipping the tears from his eyes, Dean did just that. He didn't want to risk another beating with that fucking belt. He probably wouldn't be able to sit right for a few days.

"Urgh..."

Again a wave of pain struck the fox, in his back where Garret's knee had held him down, as the giant cat dropped his massive paws on Dean's cowering form, degrading him to be the new footstool.

"Now be a good boy and do what you have promised me, Dean," Garret said in an even tone, as if nothing had happened, and indicated his still waiting boots.

Sniffling, Dean bowed his head down and brought out his tongue. With a sobbing sigh he pressed it against the sandy surface and dragged it over the worn leather. He could feel the dust stick to his tongue as he lapped it from the boots.

"See?" Garret spoke from his chair, mostly focused on the television again. "Half as bad as eating sand cake. Just as I said. You better don't make such a scene next time, you hear?"

Severely humiliated, Dean kept still. Having to lick those raunchy shoes was the worst thing Garret had him do in a long time. He still couldn't fully believe the cat had succeeded in making him do this, even though he could taste the very real dirt in his maw.

But the dirt was not the only thing he could taste. Next to the nasty feeling of fine, dry sand on his sensitive and already roughened up tongue, there was this potent flavor of the old, worn leather the shoes consisted of. Dean felt so very mortified as he lapped his friend's work boots clean.

Just as bad was the constant pressure of the cat's heavy paws on his back as he was used as a footrest. Garret was a huge man. Not just in comparison to Dean, but in general. He was far above average in height, for a feline, and thanks to his profession his bulky body was packed with muscles. Needless to say he had absolutely no problem in dominating Dean, who was far, far smaller and slimmer in build. The fennec reached barely over Garret's hip when standing fully upright! So, naturally, what seemed so casual an act for the big cat relaxing in his chair, was a huge burden for the small fox to carry, since his feet alone weight enough to awkwardly push Dean's back into a very uncomfortable position.

"You good down there, Dean?" Garret asked chuckling. Though, it was clear that his question didn't carry the slightest hint of concern for his boot cleaner.

Dean kept silent and continued his demeaning work. He simply didn't have enough strength left to stand up to Garret right now. He just hopped this would be over soon, but, knowing Garret, the fox was sure he would take his time and let him suffer every single minute. He usually did.

And so, slowly, the dust-covered boot got ever cleaner and cleaner under the fennec's constant licking as he removed the crusted dirt to reveal the once brown leather, glistening under a layer of saliva. Once the first one was done, he repeated the whole process with the second one. He remained silent the entire time. He just wanted to get this over with. And eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he did.

"There! I'm done!" Dean said and tried to push Garret's feet off his back. To his surprise he didn't feel much resistance and the cat let his paws slip to the floor. Stretching his abused back, the fennec sat up straight on the floor after being his friend's footstool for the better of the evening. "Are you happy now?!" he hissed with a rough tongue and showed Garret the results of his ordeal.

Smirking like the black devil himself, Garret picked the boots up and inspected them. The used leather boots were free of any dirt and dust now, and they still glittered slightly from the fox's saliva. "Almost as good as new!" Garret stated and was honestly impressed. He knew that being made to licking his work boots clean was not actually one of Dean's favorite kinks, but then again, who would enjoy to lick the mud off of someone else's shoes?! Though, he didn't get as much resistance from the little fox as he was used to, this time.  He just had to enjoy this to some degree, Garret thought and smiled.

Being satisfied with the work, the cat put the boots back down and added, "You did good, Dean."

The fox only snorted. Getting compliments for this was the least thing he wanted right now.

"I bet..." Garret spoke slowly. "some of our friends would really like to enjoy such a treatment as well..." The fennec shot him a dark glare. "What do you say, Dean, shall I make a few calls?"

Angry, Dean stood up and crossed his arms. "You will not tell anyone about this!" he demanded.

"I won't?" the cat laughed. "Why would I keep such a skilled tongue all to myself? It would be unfair to spoil all our friends this nice sensation, don't you think? Unless..." he smirked, "you'd prefer to be my own personal bootlicke -"

"Absolutely NOT!" Dean interrupted him. "I am not going to let all our friends do this to me. And you better don't expect me to do the same favor for you ever again as well, you jerk!"

Unruffled Garret reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone out. "You don't need to be shy, Dean," he said. "We all know you have a thing going for this sorta stuff."

Horrified Dean saw the display come to life as Garret brought it up to his face. He couldn't allow him to tell this embarrassing thing to all his friends! They would make fun of him for the rest of his days (or at least more so than they already did).

"Come on, Garret. Please don't tell anyone," he pleaded. "I don't want to be treated like a doormat by all the other guys!"

Garret had to smile, "All the other guys already treat you like a doormat, Dean. What's so bad about sharing? You know you don't have to hide your kinks with us!"

"Th- this is no kink of me," Dean protested weakly. "You made me do this..."

Garret had to hide a huge grin behind his phone. He loved to see the fennec like this: humiliated, out of options and completely at his mercy. Slowly he lowered his phone. "Well... There might be a way for you to silence me," he chuckled.

Sighing deeply, Dean dropped his head. "What do you want from me?" he asked desperate. He already had a bad feeling about this.

"You see," Garret began, "I really enjoyed your work at my paws after a long day, and my shoes have never been cleaner..."

The fox could already see where this was going.

"I will keep your newest, little kink to myself if you agree to tend to my feet every day after work and to lick my boots clean as well. For one month!"

The thought of having to lick Garret's shoes for a whole month was disgusting to Dean, though on the other side the cat was probably not bluffing. If he'd turn him down, Garret would likely call a few of the guys!

"Please, Garret. There has to be another way?" the fennec spoke softly. "How about I -"

But he was cut short as Garret brought his phone up again. "It's your choice, Dean: Either you lick my shoes, or all our friends will hear about your new penchant!"

Dean was running out of options now. He really didn't want anyone to know what just happened between him and Garret, but he also didn't want to have to repeat it on a daily basis either. In the end he decided to try to accommodate Garret. "I'll... I'll lick your paws and shoes for one week, okay?" he offered meekly.

After a hearty laugh over Dean's pathetic offer, the feline decided to give the fox at least something, "Let's say three weeks. And I will not hear a single complaint from you!" Garret could see that Dean still wasn't too lucky about his options, despite his generous offer. Hence he decided to end this conversation once and for all, "If the next word coming from your lips will be anything but a 'yes', I'll invite everyone at once for a special shoe polish from you!"

Frustrated the fennec fox bite his lower lip. "...yes," he finally said, accepting the three weeks, and saw the big cat smile in front of him. "I hope you're happy now!" he scolded, standing in front of the cat, who was still situated in his recliner. "I swear, if anyone will ever hear about this...!"

And with that Dean marched off into his room, slammed the door shut and locked it tight, leaving Garret chuckling where he was.

Sighing, he let himself slump against the door and switched on the light. In the safety of his own private room he could finally calm down. Dean took a few deep breaths and felt his body relax. At least most of his body...

"Urgh, fuck..." he muttered. He knew from the tingling between his legs what his body wanted before he got the chance to look down to see the tent in his pants.

He reached down and groped his member through the fabric. He was fully hard and the touch sent a wave of need through his body. Gently he squeezed himself a little bit, while bringing the other paw up to land on his face as Dean sighed once more, this time though a bit more unsteady. How could he be hard after what just happened? He should feel angry. Disgusted. Used.

Ashamed of himself he dragged in a long breath through his nose and shuddered when an all too familiar scent hit him. Suddenly he remembered that he still hadn't washed his hands after massaging Garret's sweaty paws to no end. The pure thought of that smell clinging to his fur made Dean shudder again.

He took the hand from his face and, upon looking down once more, saw that his other hand somehow has found its way inside his pants. Disgusted of himself he slowly rubbed his swollen sheath with the same hand that has rubbed the fucking cat's feet earlier.

Grunting in annoyance Dean pushed himself from the door and moved to his bed, where he slumped down on the sheets. Already panting hard, he opened his zipper and freed his needy member, pushing down his pants. Slowly he pushed back his sheath to reveal his throbbing manhood. Pulsing and twitching it landed on his white stomach fur.

With hesitation he took a hold of the red dick. Now the very same hand that had tended to Garret's feet for hours and that still smelled of the feline's sweaty stench touched his penis. The most private of his body's parts. It was so very disgusting, but it felt so damn good!

Dean felt his ears flush in embarrassment as he moved his paw up and down, even though he was alone. He felt shame for allowing his mind to enjoy this. But he couldn't help it. That horribly demeaning task of licking someone else's feet. The sheer dominance Garret applied to force him to his will. The way he could beat him with the belt so easily. And the pathetic way he always gave in to that cat. That huge, strong cat. That brute of a man! It turned him on like nothing else.

Furiously Dean pumped his member to the still fresh memories in his head. Smelled his paw again to feel Garret's dominance once more. He could even still taste the dry, sandy dust on his tongue.

"Hey, Dean!" he flinched as he heard a voice from outside the room. "Are you jacking off in there?"

Dean bit his lips and moved his hand slower to keep it low. Did Garret hear him?

"Didn't know you were THAT MUCH into polishing shoes!" Garret said on the other side of the door. "Guess the next three weeks are going to be like heaven for you, Dean, huh? You sure I shouldn't call some of the guys?" he added and moved away laughing loudly.

The cat's words were the final straw. The sweet cherry on top of his sundae of indignity. With a weak, muffled moan Dean came and shot his load onto his belly.

With an exhausted pant he slumped down on the bed, looking down his body to see the remnants of his shameful release. God, it felt so wrong to jerk off with those stinking paws! It felt so pathetic to enjoy this! Yet he did. Deep down he knew he enjoyed this. He couldn't help it.

Grunting from the still fresh pain of Garret's ass beating, Dean sat up. With a tissue he whipped away the worst of the mess on his tummy and pulled his pants back up.

"I need a shower..." he sighed and stood.

And if he'd meet the cat again on the way there, it would have to be a cold one, he feared.


THE END
