My bossy aunt
BY loser

As a boy, I spent much time at my aunt's house, as she "babysat" for me. My mother was frequently not home. My aunt is a very bossy, strict woman. She will not tolerate any disrespect whatsoever (by the way, she looks like Demi Moore). I was a real brat when I was a young kid. As a result, I made life very difficult for myself, whenever I had to stay with her. For example, one day when I was staying with her, she had just come back from the gym. She works out religiously. She had just spent two hours in the gym, after working all day as a waitress. Well, she had just arrived home. I was sitting in the den. She comes into the den, sits on the couch near me, and kicks her workout sneakers off. The stench that quickly filled the room was atrocious. And I told her so. I told her that her feet totally stink, and that she should have the manners to put her sneakers back on, or leave the room. And I guess I said this to her in a very sarcastic manner. Well, to my surprise she did put her sneakers back on. She tied the laces firmly. Then she looked at me. She looked angrier than I had ever seen her. She got up from the couch, approached me, and pulling me by my hair, dragged me into the bathroom upstairs. She began to slap my face really hard, continuously. She took turns slapping each cheek. After about 15 minutes of this, she spoke. She told me to stay put. I did. She left the bathroom, and came back with a washcloth. She then turned the faucet on, took the bar of Ivory soap from the soapdish, and proceeded to thoroughly lather up the washcloth. When the washcloth had a very heavy lather on it, she stuffed it right into my mouth. "I'll teach you to open up your filthy mouth to me. How dare you insult me like that. Just for being so damned disrespectful to me, I'm going to teach you a lesson you will never forget." She then began to wash my mouth out with soap. She scrubbed everywhere. She washed my tongue, under my tongue, my teeth, the insides of my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, the back of my mouth, my throat, my lips. It tasted hideous. "How do you like that, you little brat? How do you like tasting so much soap? You might as well learn to enjoy it, 'cause I'm working you over. Eat soap, you obnoxious jerk." She kept up the scrubbing and the taunting for maybe 20 minutes. Then she stuffed the whole bar of soap into my mouth, and told me to suck on it for awhile. I did. She made me suck on it for about half an hour. Then she came back into the bathroom, removed the (now considerably smaller) bar of soap from my mouth, and sealed my mouth shut with a large strip of duct tape. She hadn't even allowed my to rinse my mouth out first. Next, she again pulled me by my hair out of the bathroom and into the living room. She pushed me down onto the floor. She told me to stay still. I did. She brought lots of rope into the room, and proceeded to tie me up. She tied my hands behind my back. She tied my elbows together. She tied my ankles, knees, thighs--everywhere. Then she turned my over onto my back. By now, I was reduced to a helpless heap of bones. I could not move at all. I could not breathe through my mouth, because of the tape. And my mouth was still full of soap suds. At this point, my aunt brought a chair into the room and positioned it right above my chest. She sat down in the chair. "So, you have a problem with my feet, huh? You can't tolerate my stinky feet? Sure my feet must stink to high heaven. I have been waitressing all day, and then I spent two hours in the gym. But that gives you no right to complain about my feet. I am your aunt. You are supposed to treat me with total respect. You think my feet smell bad from across a room? I'll show you. Just wait until you have to smell them up close, you little jerk. You're going to smell my feet for awhile, whether you like it or not." At this point, she kicked off her sneakers, peeled off her socks, and immediately placed them in a plastic bag, which she seeled tightly. Then she gave me the business. She put her feet in my face, and rubbed them all around. Her feet were so horribly sweaty and stinky, I thought I would pass out from the torture and the humiliation. She looked at me with an evil grin and an expression of sheer victory. "Smell my feet", she said. "You'd better smell my feet. How do you like it, huh? How do you like smelling my stinky feet? I'll teach you to insult me. Smell my feet, loser. You are a complete loser, you know. I have never had to suffer like this. I have never been humiliated anywhere near this much. I am a winner, and you are a total loser. Just keep smelling my feet." She was really into what she was doing. She seemed fully determined to punish me. She held one foot against the side of my face, while rubbing the other foot up and down my nose. She rubbed her foot over my nose, from her heel to her arch to her toes. When she got to her toes, she used my nose to massage between each one of them. I was in agony. I could do nothing but smell her feet, because of that tape over my mouth. She took turns with her feet. First she would use my face to massage the left foot, then she used my face to massage the right foot. Back and forth. She showed me no mercy. She never gave me a break. Never any fresh air for me. She made sure that I smelled nothing but her feet. "How's the air down there, loser? Stinky enough for you? Now you know what my poor socks have to go through every day. Smell my feet, you jerk. How do you like it? Gee, I bet those stink. You don't mind if I use your nose to massage my feet, do you? You don't mind if I use your ugly face as a foot sweat wipe, do ya? Suffer, loser." I was indeed suffering. She didn't just put her feet in my face, she rubbed them constantly. My nose spent much of the time buried into the underside of her sweaty, smelly toes, as well as between her toes. I couldn't stand the smell. I was delerious. But I could do nothing but allow her to have her way with me. She keeps her toenails rather long, and this creates a horrible stench beneath them. Well, I was introduced to that stench. She made me smell beneath each and every toenail. I was in hell, and she loved it. She laughed at me frequently. She laughed at my predicament. "Smell good, boy? You know loser, you do deserve this. You deserve every bit of this. You deserve to be forced to smell women's feet. You deserve to be humiliated by women. You are a monstrosity. So smell my feet. Smell them good." After about 3 hours of this, she took the plastic bag with her sneakers and socks, and opened it up. The odor hit me immediately, and the bag was across the room. She approached me, removed the tape from my mouth, and stuffed one of her socks right into it. She again taped my mouth shut. Then she took her sneaker, and shoved it snugly over my face, with my nose right up into the toe section. She tied the sneaker in place. "You can suck on my dirty, sweaty, stinky sock for awhile, boy. And you can constantly sniff my stinky sneaker while you do it. How does that sound? I'll teach you a lesson." She laughed at me and left the room. Half an hour later, she returned. She removed the sock and sneaker from my face, and replaced them with the other sock and sneaker, which had been fermenting in the sealed plastic bag. After sucking on her other sweaty sock, and smelling the inside of her other sweaty sneaker for another half an hour, she again returned. It seems that for the last hour my aunt had been working out on her Stairmaster. She had been wearing sneakers without socks. She proceeded to kick off her sneakers. "Now you're gonna clean my feet with your tongue, loser. My feet are sweaty, dirty and smelly, and you are going to remedy that for me. By the time you are finished licking my bare feet, my feet had better be spotless and lacking any odor. You got that? Lick my feet clean, loser." I did. I licked everywhere. I cleaned every millimeter of both of her feet. I had to lick between her toes for a long time, in order to remove all the crud which had accumulated there. She made me swallow everything that I magaged to remove from between her toes. It was the most degrading experience of my life. By this time, I no longer had any soap taste in my mouth. All I could taste and smell was my aunt's stinky feet. "Smell my feet, boy. Lick them clean, loser." This Demi Moore look-alike was showing me who was boss. She was the winner and I was most definitely the loser. I began to fear that the smell of my aunt's stinky feet was the last smell that I was ever going to know...

Now THAT'S what I call a story! Anybody agree?

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