The Rise of Scally God

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Outside the window behind Gulzar's Gypsy-foot-ravaged face a small crowd of amused youth had gathered, a small gang of girls and boys who had stopped by to see the strange free show playing out inside in the gym. They represented all of Birmingham this young crowd -- I saw Pakistani, White, Black, Chinese, mixed-race, East European faces. At that same moment, the three big Black dudes were also smiling in our direction. Oh my God, this was such a fucking dizzyingly powerful moment.

A married granddad, powerfully built, with a family, his face and dignity utterly compromised under and at the exclusive mercy of my jobless, dole-seeker's, scally left foot. Muscled male spectators inside, youth male and female spectators outside, all witnessing live the incredibly beautiful bare-chested and barefoot, White teen boy use his Pakistani man-bitch.

As for the slave, the well-built yet lowly, pathetic little pussy of a so-called man forced to surrender over his hard-earned cash to the simply born-superior young Gypsy Real Man who stood triumphantly before him, holding the entire bulk of his submitted slave captive under the power of a single bare foot.

The poverty-stricken, council-estate raised, neglected, small and slim scally boy without a single basic school-level pass in any subject, clad in nothing more than a pair of well-used, worn-to-threads, "stolen" old jeans with missing knees, was holding his rugged man-bitch, this Cambridge-fucking-educated slave, Dr Gulzar Asfand Khan pinned helplessly with nothing more than his diminutive toes which were now pushed in and victoriously grinding deep inside the slave's mouth. (I had inserted my royal scally toes in Gulzar's mouth to let his saliva take off the worst of the discomfort under my stinging big toe.)

Oh god, oh fuck me senseless, now this is what's called Power! This was a total victory! Just right there and then, my raging-hard, beer-can-thick cock began to spontaneously shoot out load after load after fucking load.

I began vigorously, savagely foot-raping Gulzar's face with short, hard in-out thrusts using my foot like a big infidel White cock in his mature Muslim mouth which I had now conveniently converted to a makeshift, well-stretched brown-meat pussy.

In and out, in and out. Bang! Bang! Bang! My foot was so deep now, impaling his entire head on it. I was rocking the full 95 kg of his body back and forth, manhandling the foot-sucking Pakistani bitch. Despite my much smaller frame, my movements were controlled, balanced and graceful while the clumsy big bitch Gulzar was made to wobble and shake all over the place like a helpless, delicate little rag doll under the intensity of the brutal teen foot-rape I was inflicting his pussy-mouth to. I was able to repeatedly pull him off the wall and smash him back into it, so firmly had I wedged my foot-cock into his twat-mouth.

"Suck! Suck, you fucking cock-hungry Paki toe-rag! Suck my fucking White foot! Suck it like your Paki whore daughter and wife would suck my superior White cock! Suck, you trashy filthy brown slut! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, fuck yeah!" I yelled.

Fuck me, it felt like gallons of cum had discharged into my Asda "smart price" boxer-briefs (the 5-pack for something like £7, you know the ones I mean). The dense cum under the pressured release had soaked right through, wetting the entire crotch area of my jeans. I just could not contain my huge beast of a cock. It was way too excited to explode point. I had climaxed without even touching it.

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(Just a little note to any of my readers who might still have had lingering doubts after I had explained earlier how Gulzar's face is the perfect multi-function device for my feet. I hope by now those doubts are cleared up and all my readers are fully back on board.

You have seen how Gulzar's aquiline nose is an ideal drip-dry perch for my wet feet, his wide, broad and flat multi-use forehead perfect not only for me to easily stretch out the entire length of my cold bare soles on to utilise the foot-warming function but also presenting plenty of skin area to neatly slave-brand Gulzar.

His stubbled chin, what a great fully function-tested foot scrubber to wipe off the grime from under the dirtiest bare soles.

The pliable mouth. Now here again, at the disposal of my feet, I have a flexible multi-use device -- 1) Warm air blower to gently de-frost my cold feet, 2) A first-aid box to heal my foot burns, 3) An emergency makeshift pussy to either dick-fuck or foot-fuck, 4) A garbage bin for unwanted items (as you will later see.)

The "water depository" chin for ensuring drops of precious water from my drying bare feet do not go to waste. I hate wasting a vital resource like water. I normally save any water that drips off my feet and bottle it for Gulzar. This "foot-water" was in fact what he had in his gym bottle tonight.

Later you will also see how his entire head can be used by me as a clothes-drying stand, his tongue as an advanced bare foot cleaner and his forehead as my toe-cracker.

Any reader who still has the least doubt remaining, after all this now fully demonstrated sales pitch to sell my unique, novel, multi-function domestic appliance then, quite honestly, fuck me, I give up. You've just got to be taking the piss!)

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I released big Gulzar's freshly foot-raped face by very carefully, slowly teasing out my left foot millimetre at a time from his mouth which now had my bare foot two-thirds wedged in, toe-tickling his tonsils. Once my foot and his face were free from one another, I bitch-slapped him a little in a friendly manner, first with my pussy-mouth raping left foot and then with the right. I'm always careful in ensuring both my Regal Feet get fair use of their older, married slave's face.

Next, I spun around, gracefully spinning on the heel of my left foot and back kicked him (lightly) in the stomach with my right foot before sliding it down to slip off his shorts and briefs with my bare toes (I'm very skilled with my feet), entering his crotch area and keeping the naked sole pushed in place on what should be his little manhood.

I noticed Gulzar's little clit was quite firm, trying for an erection, but it was nowhere near as hard as even my now depleted White scally steel rod. I kept my bare sole in place a minute or two, in direct skin contact with the naked clit for my slave to take whatever little perverse pleasure he could take from it.

Skilled in kickboxing and karate as I am, plus my high degree of flexibility, I turned my head to look back over my shoulder, making eye contact with Gulzar. All without once easing off on the pressure my bare right sole was now exerting on his compromised tiny family jewels and clit-cock.

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(This back kick I executed to Gulzar's stomach was not how I would do it in the many street fights in which I have time and again kicked asses and humiliated much bigger opponents, even multiple bigger, taller opponents and sometimes disarmed and beat up knife-wielding gangsters.

I never spin on my heels in real fights. I always remain ready, alert and pivot only on the balls of my kickboxer feet, always keeping my eyes on the opponent. Not like here, where I first spun around and accurately kicked spot-on on Gulzar's stomach before manoeuvring my foot over his crotch, without looking at the "opponent".

I was not fighting Gulzar, merely fucking around with him, showing him no matter how tiny the target, my spatial awareness and foot-precision is so refined I can kick and find desired target blind, bullseye perfect, first time, every time.

It was also subliminal messaging from my intelligent feet to Gulzar's thick head. (When compared to even my intellectually-superior toes, Gulzar is pig-thick in the head. Otherwise, there's no doubting his brainpower.) Subtle messaging to tell him he cannot hide or run, he cannot do anything behind my back and get away with it. My feet will find him and hit him hard where it hurts.)

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The three Black guys looked on for the finale. The crowd of youth outside, girls and boys, moved closer to the window to look down inside to see what was now in progress. It amused me to see them jostle around for the best "front-row" viewing position, pushing each other aside, shouting, laughing. Mobiles all out and video-recording running to capture as best as they could in the difficult viewing circumstances.

I noticed one of the muscular 6ft 4" Black dudes, Danny also had his mobile pointed at us. I threw a quick, direct glance at him. I couldn't help noticing the front of his baggy track bottoms held up with a huge tent pole. He bared his glistening, white teeth in a wide grin and gestured as if to say "Go on then, we're waiting."

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(Danny, age 29 now in late 2021, 6ft 4", 127 kg of near-pure muscle mass, very little fat, 10" cock, UK size 13 feet-- a gym regular I had kept in touch with and who in these post-Covid times has also, along with his 20-year-old blond wife, Nadine, completely and fully surrendered to my unquestioned superiority.

I control their sex life, regularly fuck them both and use them individually or together as my foot-bitches. I have contemplated moving into their luxury new 5-bedroom detached house in one of the more upmarket outskirts of Sutton Coldfield as a live-in White Master but for now, I want to continue living close to my soulmate, Slut Sarah.)

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I locked my vivid green eyes onto Gulzar's equally alluring, large, dark-brown Pakistani eyes. He was held mesmerised by my green, Caucasian eyes, staring intently into them and to be honest, I was held captivated by his stunning Pakistani eyes too.

Eye-to-eye we stood and stared. Some secret, mysterious bond held us both immobilised. A deeper level of agreement and understanding that could not (perhaps could not ever) find expression in the actions our bodies were performing, the words our mouths were forming.

There had been other such times in our short relationship when we had looked eye-to-eye and then seemingly Time had suspended, Space became irrelevant, meaningless. Karl and Gulzar. Master and Slave. That's all that we were conscious of. Two yet One, and that One the totality of all that existed, the Totality of Being. Nothing besides the Unified One -- no longer English, Pakistani, White, Pashtun, old, young, rich, poor, small, big, past, present or future -- all these natural or human constructs of the physical world melting way, temporarily ceasing to exist. This was just one such powerful moment here in the gym that evening.

Holding my eyes locked in Gulzar's, I began slowly digging my gorgeous, natural tan bare sole deeper into his foot-enslaved crotch. My small Gypsy boy's mere right foot totally owned the large Pakistani man in his entirety, mind and body. There was no mistaking the unspoken age disparity, size disparity and interracial power dynamic at play, with the complete and utter humiliation it all implied for the chav-foot-vanquished Dr Gulzar Asfand Khan the fearless warrior.

Without once breaking our eye-lock on each other, I began to slowly, teasingly circle my right bare sole over his foot-controlled cock and balls. I could feel him getting harder. I could even feel his size, which could not have been more than 2.5" max, under my sensitive, smooth bare sole. Pathetic. Round and round and round I moved my bare sole, slowly, firmly and methodically, eyes locked on to his.

"At the count of three, foot-slut girl," I the Master and Owner ordered and she the slave bitch understood, trained as she was "One......Two......Three......," I stopped the circular motion, curled my toes up out the way and dug the ball of my bare right foot in harder, really grinding it in now and vigorously began shaking my beautiful, mouth-watering foot on her twin-peas and brown clit in rapid up, down short movements. Up, down, up, down, up, down.

"Cum! Cum! Cum, you fucking stupid meritless piece of pig shit! You now have God's permission to cum, useless Paki scumbag! Cum right now or I swear I'll fucking White foot-rape both your Paki bitch sons' hairy virgin asses together right in your bastard face! Cum now!" I shouted out my directive.

I felt his cum leak out in barely-perceptible dribs and drabs. Felt under my powerful bare sole his tiny so-called cock shrinking back to its little clit-sized man-pussy. For the next ten or so seconds I dug in and flexed my bare toes to massaged his pea-sized balls before I kindly eased off the bare sole pressure on the wriggling worm to allow it easier movement. Call me a bastard all you like; I do have a kinder side to me.

I broke the eye contact, freed Gulzar from my hypnotic gaze, freed his tiny brown clit from slavery to my bare right foot, turned around to face him. Both my deserving White feet were now nicely exercised and warmed up, left foot by raping his Paki pussy-mouth, right foot by hammering his brown clit.

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(Gulzar the foot-slut might have had many other reasons why I was so easily able to break him down and enslave him but his inferior cock was surely one of them. I often taunted him about it, demanding to know which Black or White real man must have raped his lovely, large-breasted Pakistani wife and got her pregnant three times.

I find it had to believe Gulzar' tiny clit (there's just got to be many women around with superior "cocks" than Gulzar's!) is capable of impregnating even the most fertile pussy. His tiny cock plays into my dirty fantasies.

At times when holding him immobile under my divine White feet, one of my biggest turn-ons is to taunt the bitch with the idea of making it my next move to start fucking his Pakistani wife and daughter or even positioning both his sons in their proper place under my White feet. They deserve better in life; I always still argue with him.

Your Pakistani MILF wife and that tight-cunt Muslim daughter of yours deserve my White teen cock, I tell him. Your two sons can benefit from getting a great start in life by joining their dad as my foot-licking slave bitches.

Who knows, guys, I am yet young and setting out in life. I have the head of the family already surrendered to my White feet, and as they say in MMA, control the head and the body follows -- take it where you want. In my case, I'd take them all face down to the floor and trample them barefoot, conquer all their mouths and asses too.

Foot-dominating the entire, wealthy, academic and successful Pakistani household would be the next level of pleasure for my insatiable White cock. Keeping targets in life simple, modest and achievable does help, agree guys?)

5: Post Exercise Cool-down

It would be a shame to leave without first cracking my toes after the soak in freezing water they had endured earlier. Cracking my toes on Gulzar's face is the very least they deserve. "Hold your head still, Paki cunt," I issued the command. The cunt obeyed.

I casually raised my left foot and positioned splayed-out toes on the cunt's toe-cracker forehead, pressing my foot forward and upward before lightly rocking it side to ride. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Ah, blissful. I repeated with the toes of my right foot. I smiled seeing how a row of five jet-black spots of various sizes had now appeared on the cunt's forehead just above the slave-branding mark I had given him earlier. It never ceases to amaze me just how much can be done just to a guy's forehead with a bit of skilful application of bare feet.

Just to finish off I raised my bare right sole and poisoned it in front of his face. "Paki shit, give me an engineer's report on the cleanliness of my Gypsy bare foot," I demanded.

"Certainly, Sir. Your Gypsy bare right sole has 75% very clean area, the remaining 25% is partially grimy with some patches of approximately no more than 10% still near-black, Sir."

"Stick your tongue out, dicksucking Paki slave. Hold as much of it rolled out over your chin as bitchely possible," I issued the command, "Very clean and partially clean bare sole fall short of the Scally King's standards. Gypsy sole must be clean enough for your Muslim wife and daughter to eat food from."

Gulzar the slave cunt held out his tongue as ordered. I slid the entirety of my dirty sole, starting at the heel right down to the tip of the big toe, all over his nicely textured, moist tongue, minimum ten repetitions. Pushing firmly to make sure I wiped off every last speck of dirt on the loser's tongue.

Just for that finishing luxury touch, I splayed out my toes and pressed them across his lips, making him thoroughly lick between them all. I repeated the honour with my left bare sole after making Dr Khan give me a report on it. A final engineer's inspection report showed "100% thoroughly clean bare soles." Now, this was in keeping with my high scally standards.

At last, I scooped up my hoodie with my bare foot, briefly held both middle fingers in Gulzar's face with the words "fuck you, loser" and casually strolled away whistling, with the relaxed, confident sway of a conqueror, without another word or even bothering to look back at the decimated, worthless little shit.

6: Scally Divinity Confirmed

In the locker room, I flicked up into the air with my feet and caught my damp ankle socks. Can't wear these, surely, I thought. Besides, I now had money enough to buy a more expensive new pair or two. As I said earlier, I do like my branded sporty gear. I'd definitely treat Slut Sarah too with the fag-cash as I always did.

The immediate problem I had was my cum-soaked boxers. I stripped off my jeans and briefs. The jeans were moist but not too bad. I washed the crotch area, squeezed out excess water and hung it up in front of the heater, suspended from the ceiling.

Gulzar's expensive nubuck leather sports bag was in its usual place under the bench (he never bothers locking it away). I rummaged through it and fished out a clean towel and pair of hardly-used, clean Tom Ford silk boxers (£130 a pair I would later learn, phew!) I dampened a corner of the towel and wiped away as much cum I could with it around my balls and cock before pat-drying myself with the rest of it.

Without bothering to neatly fold the wet, cum-tainted towel, I stuffed it back into Gulzar's bag, which I couldn't be arsed to kick back under the bench. I slipped on my new Tom Ford boxer briefs (oversized for me around the waist but it gave my much bigger package snugger fit than it would around Gulzar's clit), pulled on my jeans and stomped my bare feet back into the Reebok trainers.

On the way out, I threw my cock and cum ravaged old boxers and wet ankle socks in the bin. Then as an afterthought, I pulled out both items, deciding they still had some use left in them once all cleaned up (to eBay standards?)

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I returned to the locker room to find Gulzar inspecting his Karl-cum-blessed towel. I walked up to him. He remained still and steady without requiring any instruction. I stretched my cheap, cum-soaked boxers over his head, some thick globs of it dribbled down the left side of his face, some more I deliberately smeared all over his lips. The wet socks I inserted one into the other and rolled into a neat little ball, lifted them to Gulzar's mouth.