The Rise of Scally God

It's all very simple really when you get the hang of using any device. Once it's "out the box", up and running and worn-in, that's when the user gets the optimum use out of it. Gulzar's Karl-foot-device face was no more special or unique than any other domestic device. Would you not agree?

Just think of it as a multi-function washer/dryer machine. You don't just fill the drum with dirty laundry, push "Start" and hope for the best (well, I know some do but...) You first carefully determine what program cycle is required, and then select the required function cycle, don't you? Otherwise, what's the whole fucking point of having so many functions?

Gulzar's face is not just some random device either, it was carefully foot-picked and programmed by me for the functions I need it to perform. The device is my property and as they say about anything you own, look after it and it looks after you.

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(My story is somewhat different because my experience of life is different and at my age (then 18, now 21) is also limited. Later in life when I have moved on from wanking to the dark thoughts of my sexy, slutty fucking mum and foot-dominating bigger, older non-White men (and their wives and daughters), who knows, I might have more "regular" erotic experiences to share but for now, at this rookie stage, it is admittedly a more niche sex life I'm living.

When I say things like Gulzar's face is my made-for-Karl-feet device, it is not to demean him. It is just a statement of fact and I see it as complimenting him. His square, handsome, mature brown face with its lovely hook nose and flat, broad forehead truly is the perfect match for my compact, shapely tan-white feet. My supple teen feet really do flex and adapt to fit nicely on his facial features.

Gulzar's face and my feet complement each other perfectly -- both look better together than either does apart. A fact, plain and simple. I love to have his near-50 handsome Pakistani face under my hot, insatiable 18-year-old White scally feet. He loves my much younger, "dirty scally rat", White feet dominating his older, rugged-featured Pakistani face. It gets us both hard like nothing else. Can anyone be judgmental against us, when his face and my feet not against each other?)

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Now I have a little confession to make here. While only a couple of paragraphs earlier I was lecturing you all on how to correctly use a domestic appliance to obtain the optimum use, I have to admit I had myself made rather poor use of Gulzar's face as my foot-warming device.

I had carried out both Stage-1 and Stage 2 functions consecutively to dry and heat only my right foot. In the meantime, my equally wet and cold left foot had dried and nicely warmed up in the ambient temperature on the gym's matted floor before I had even bothered to switch my feet on Gulzar's face.

Better use of my foot-warmer device would have been to carry out Stage-1 drying my right foot with the timer set to 90 seconds, switch feet, Stage-1 drying left foot 90 seconds, switch feet again and Stage-2 foot-warming right foot 60 seconds, switch feet and finish off with Stage-2 foot-warming left foot 60 seconds. Oh well, never mind. Next time I won't let the big faggot bitch get away with it.

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(That's enough lecturing and distractions. Forgive me, if you are still reading this, I know it is not for my domestic appliance use instructions and disclaimers. You horny fuckers want all the juicy action so let's get back to that. I thank you for your patience.)

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Once my right foot was fully dry and warm, I continued to fuck around Gulzar's face with it some more, playfully moving the olive-skinned weapon of domination all over his brown face. It felt so delicious, the warm bristles of his stubble under my baby-smooth bare sole. I used his bristles to scrape off as much dirt from under my sole as I could. It worked a fucking treat. I managed to wipe off whole clumps of shit all over his chin area, under the nose and lips. Beautiful.

I felt like a god to foot-dominate someone who on paper was better than me in every imaginable way, to have him under the complete spell and subjugation of nothing more than mere few square centimetres of the bottom of my dirty teen foot. That too a small foot belonging to a small, barely-adult boyish teen.

Good little girl, you fucking worthless piece of trash, I thought to myself, you are an absolute Paki shitbag, defeated under my White teen foot. Not that I was afraid to speak openly like this to the fag. I had the bitch in his place mentally as well as physically.

My feet (and cock) were by now embedded in the deepest recesses of Gulzar's psyche. Hell, even deeper than I have ever yet foot-fucked or dick-fucked his pussy-mouth in our two-month-old friendship ("usership" or "fuckship" are perhaps better words? The Shakespeare types among my readers please feel free enlighten me).

"Enjoy The Second Law of Thermodynamics, my married Paki bitch, let heat transfer occur from your owned face to My Royal English Right Foot," I mocked Gulzar, imitating his posh accent and belittling his engineering background.

As I spoke the words "My Royal English Right Foot" I accentuated each one by pressing the arch of my foot in and out five times on his forehead, the full breadth of which I now once again had neatly and skilfully nestled under the arch of my bare right foot.

"My pleasure, my Scally King," laughed Gulzar the foot-flattened faggot, awkwardly since I had very deliberately now slid my bare sole down over the loser fag's lips to muffle his speech somewhat. He simply loved the way I treated him, the fucking pathetic little brown bitch!

I was making strong Gulzar look frail as an old woman and I was conscious of it. It was a huge power trip to Gypsy scally foot-rape a Pakistani man near twice my size, more than two-and-half times my age to say nothing of his status in society, his education, the fact he was a married man, a grandad.

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(Now some readers might be wondering, I said I looked up to Gulzar with awe and respect and surely now by holding his "Paki" face captive, defeated and humbled under my dirty, bare "White" sole am I not contradicting myself? Hell, no! Making Gulzar an obedient slave to my powerful teen feet increased my respect for him. He showed me what a great bitch he was willing to be for me.

Gulzar demonstrated his intellectual prowess and courage by being willing to let me break him free from all the indoctrination of society, religion and culture and submitting instead to the manifestly superior teen White God that I was. My indomitable White English feet were helping liberate the confused cunt's mind from the tyrannical confinement of nurture. He could never thank my God Feet enough in ten lifetimes of licking clean their dirty bare soles.

By acknowledging his inferiority to me, Gulzar made himself even more worthy of my respect and right now I was expressing the respect I had for his honesty by rewarding him with grinding away the grime under my stunning, divine bare foot off onto the loser's face.

Each person deserves to get the respect he or she earns. Yet Gulzar was fortunate in getting much more than he had earned or was worth. Does all that make sense? Any horny, young chav lads and older Indian or Pakistani men please let me know. It's always a pleasure to hear from you all.)

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"Good little Paki slut, you know your place. Your White God's right foot is now sufficiently warmed to His satisfaction, hold your slave face steady in place for My Royal English Left Foot now," I nonchalantly commanded and my slave bitch obeyed.

Gulzar always did as his teen English God ordered. He not only held his face in place as commanded but even the smile on his face remained fixed in place. I had the lowly cunt trained like a dog in a very short time. I proceeded to remove my right sole from his face and repeated the same kick and sole-plant on his face with my now already dry and not-so-cold left foot. Pleasant, relaxing face-to-foot heat transfer, emanating from the face of a married, submissive nobody dominated by my compact Gypsy foot. Oh, I was in heaven!

Much of the titbits of our communication were either me piss-taking, debasing him. It made me feel good. Or his even fewer words were to show me, his Master and Owner, that he understood his place, that he accepted my complete dominance and unquestioned right to lord over him. He sure knew his station in life. That much I had hammered well into the pitiful slave's head. Besides, due to the "workout motivation" music constantly blasting away at the gym, we preferred to be economical with words during our "training" sessions.

"Your face makes such a great foot-warmer, you brainless, lowlife bitch-boy," I taunted "Here, have some reward" I pushed in harder and moved my naked sole in big circles across Gulzar's face, stretching and twisting his skin, contorting his features before pressing the naked, dirty ball down over his lips.

By now Gulzar's face had collected a fair bit of muck from under my increasingly clean soles. By rubbing my bare soles all over his rugged face I had given him a lovely camo look, adding to his overall manly appearance despite the utterly devastating circumstances in which I had imparted that look to him.

"Scumbag Paki filth, you owe thanks to my superior Gypsy feet for enhancing your looks, for making you look worthy of the warrior tribe you are supposedly descended from," I said sternly, pulling off my hoodie to reveal my breathtakingly stunning, toned, light-tan, smooth-skinned upper body while still keeping his lips pressed hard under the ball of my bare left foot.

Dropping the hoodie on the matted floor, I raised my arms, flexing muscles in a show of unchallenged Gypsy superiority. He made as if to utter thanks but with the cunt's mouth nicely sealed under my foot, the only effect was ticklish vibration under my sensitive sole.

The group of muscled, Black men all intermittently stopped mid-training to look in our direction and then carried on doing whatever they were engaged with. This is what I so loved about this rotten martial arts gym in the rundown, decaying industrial area. People here were cool with how others behaved as long as they did not hurt anyone or get in the way.

4: Give and Take -- Warmth and Pleasure

People's carefree attitude to life in Birmingham's rougher, deprived areas gave me the required space to fully exploit and abuse Gulzar to further boost my already (some would say) arrogant-level confidence and prove to myself (and to Gulzar,) that despite everything life had stacked against me, I possessed the might and power to reduce someone who had the best of everything life had to offer, someone who was much older, bigger, wealthier, reduce him to my grovelling little worthless bitch under my godly fucking scally teen feet.

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(The interracial aspect of our relationship enormously fuelled both my imagination and cock. Many would give me lectures on how it is all so wrong blah blah blah, I know.

This relationship between me, Karl the Teen White Atheist God (an oxymoron?) and Gulzar the Mature Pakistani Muslim Slave, is special and sacred to us both. We both love our position in life and neither of us would have it any other way.

Gulzar had degraded himself on his knees in front of me, forehead prostrated down on the tops of my bare White feet countless times, had repeated ad nauseum his willing submission to me in his own words describing himself as being nothing more than my "worthless Paki servant." Though, in all honesty, he was relatively worthless only when he was not serving me and my feet. My God Feet blessed him with worth and purpose beyond anything he deserved.

I had become the Saviour whose blessings Gulzar sought. He adored My White Feet. He pleaded for forgiveness under My White Soles. He had come to realise the more he submitted to my bare feet, the more I would bless him by placing My Royal White Arches over his head and dignifying him with the feeding of My God Cock into his mouth.

By accepting and submitting to my uncontested divinity, Gulzar felt released, elevated. So, it was not at all degradation in the true sense. It was, as I explained earlier, elevating him to a more respectful, dignified position as my bitch. A bitch to someone truly great such as Me.

Does all that make sense, readers? I hope you are all still with me. Challenging concepts can take a good deal of meditation and contemplation before they are fully assimilated.)

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My next move was set up to further reduce Gulzar as well as to further fuel my already rock-hard cock (and also Gulzar's much smaller clit of a cock.) The two were the same, his debasement and the hardness of our cocks worked in tandem.

In our relationship of use, exploitation and abuse the more I blessed Gulzar with degradation and humiliation, the more I showed him what a pathetic little born-inferior, worthless piece of shit he truly was, the harder I raped his sense of self-worth, the harder my White cock and his brown clit became.

Gulzar, in his engineering terms, had once described it as something silly like (if I recall correctly,) "The rise of Teen King Karl's Royal White Cock is directly, inversely and exponentially proportional to the lowering of Slave Gulzar's Paki Face under the application of the White Sole." The loser fucktard explained it as meaning something like the more I press down my naked White foot on his Paki bitch face, every bit of additional pressure I apply gets my young White cock ever harder and higher.

What a complete, utter foot-craving loser, I know. But it suited my purpose and I didn't give a shit. After all, in the few weeks, since I had met him, it was through me taking the lead, grooming and breaking him to this level of submission. I didn't put in all this effort to care about the slimeball whore's sensitivities, whose only worth and value were measured by the extent to which he could satisfy my superior, White scally cock and feet's demands.

I was determined to keep Gulzar mentally and physically chained under my young White feet, submitted and surrendered. If it took racial degradation and re-orienteering his faith towards the one-and-only true God, Gypsy Cock, so be it. This way I could control his sorry loser ass to my advantage. Fuck, I felt damn proud to have so completely destroyed the self-esteem of a near 50-year-old married "man". (By now I had stripped his sense of dignity right down to the point of rendering him an "ex-man", totally crushed the faggot under my divine feet.)

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(Anyway, my patient and persevering horny readers, (BTW: Are there any rich and successful, older married Pakistani men among you? [wink],) my lengthy chattering is taking me away from the next foot move I was about to tell you about. You want to know about that, right?)

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Using all my martial arts skill and balance I raised myself onto the toes of my right foot and repositioned my left foot so that only my bare big toe was now pressed firmly onto slave Gulzar's foot-warmer forehead, his head still trapped between the window at the back and now nothing more than just my single big toe on the front on his forehead. I took a moment to pause and relax. I contemplated this new situation. I even looked across the hall to a row of mirrors to get a better perspective.

What an awesome sight! A fucking beauty of a scene before me. How ridiculous I was making the loser look. A strong, stately man with good muscle definition, mean-looking with his shaved head and stubble, large feet and now even sporting a bare-sole-imparted tough-look camo-face courtesy of my bare soles. Mature too, a married fucking man with kids older than me and yet here he was under the complete, abject submission and surrender to nothing more than my single, tiny, scally bare big toe. Talk about domination, you fucking motherfuckers!

A short, wiry, teen boy, outwardly unassuming, holding hostage to his fucking toe the entirety of what should be Gulzar the big Pakistani loser faggot's sense of dignity. I couldn't help myself, I just could not. I wanted to rub my victory in his face - literally. I began twisting my bare toe on his face, hard. Twist and twist. I wanted to scar the mark of my domination on his forehead for all of eternity with friction burn. I rubbed and twisted, feeling the rising heat between our skins.

Fuck, Gulzar must have been frantically doing his engineering calculations to work out how much more time and energy to be expended in the toe-branding of his Gypsy-foot-perch forehead, the marking of my slave just like the good old days. Only this time in the age of humanity I was using my caring scally toe and not an iron stamp of any kind.

Once the cunt was marked to my satisfaction, I held my toe in place on his now heated forehead. Kind of ironic, how less than ten minutes ago I had used his forehead to heat my bare left foot and now the very same bare foot had returned the favour and heated the slave's forehead. Good to give and take, eh? Fuck, I sort of regretted doing it. The slave-branding had caused horrible burning under my own toe too. It took well over a week for the fucking blister to heal.

"Right then, Paki loser girl, now hand over the cash you owe me," I ordered, still keeping Gulzar's head sandwiched in the vice-grip between my dirty, now blistering-hot left big toe and the window. It must have been held jammed in place now for a full 15 or so minutes easily. I had still been supporting my full body weight on the toes of my right foot through all this time. Training hard really does pay off.

Despite now in some discomfort himself, my married fag bitch Gulzar did all he could do keep his conquered face stationary, doing all he could to enhance the comfort of my face-raping bare foot. The fucking cunt had his priorities right, you have to acknowledge that guys. Credit where it's due. (Feel free to give him compliments in the comments.)

Gulzar reached under his shorts and pulled out a little drawstring cloth pouch and handed it over to me. I greedily grabbed it out of his hand and began to count my earnings for the night - £500! Five Hundred Fucking Great British Pounds for wiping, cleaning and warming my dirty fucking scally, 18-year-old White chav soles on the filthy rich Pakistani loser's fucking conquered face and slave-branding his forehead with my bare big toe!

This is awesomeness at its very best, I thought to myself, pride swelling up inside me as I again raised my arms and flexed muscles, this time in a brazen display of my undeniable Scally Supremacy over the inferior little shit, casually digging in and rubbing my dirty, young White bare sole all over on his captive brown face just that extra bit harder.

Holding the face of the defeated Dr Khan motionless and speechless in its proper place under my teen royal left scally foot, I pivoted on the ball of my majestic right scally foot to angle my body to face towards the three Black spectators.

I held up the money pouch high in my right hand, posing like a champion and then, resting my left arm across my body, I bowed. This prompted all three Black guys to break out in rapturous applause so fucking loud it momentarily drowned out the classic Take Over Control track by Afrojack blasting away in the background at the time.