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Chapter 1 — Fantasy Football

My name is Ted and I run a fantasy football league with some friends of mine back in my college days and a few new people we added for a 20-team league. We meet every year for our face-to-face draft. There is no money involved, just a bunch of guys having fun. We are all very competitive and research the players, smack talk, and all of that.

There is this one new guy Andrew who has tried to get up to speed by asking me a lot of questions. At first he would send me e-mails and then we would chat online. He is a good guy and fun to chat with and I enjoy chatting fantasy football while I multi-task and check football news or stats.

Every now and then Andrew would slip into the conversations implications that he is rich. It was amusing because he is not good at being subtle. He is not trying to be funny but it gives me a good chuckle most every time because it is silly.

One time as we were chatting online I decided to ask him about it.

Tedman: Are you rich?

Drew: yes

Tedman: That must be nice

Drew: you have no idea, it’s beyond great

Tedman: Cool

Drew: how about you

Tedman: no, just a regular guy

Drew: what is it like to have to work?

Tedman: It sucks, believe me!

Drew: i believe you, i would think it would be like slavery, a slave to money

Tedman: Yes, if you put it that way

Drew: that makes me superior to you, right??

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Was he trying to bait me into anger or something? I think the last time I was angry was 15 years ago, it just isn’t in my playbook. I was amused instead of angry.

Tedman: I guess it depends how you look at things

Drew: i have everything i want in life while you are a slave to money, doesn’t seem like equality to me

Tedman: Like I said, depends how you look at it

Drew: don’t you feel inferior?

Tedman: I am lucky to have a stable job and no money problems

Drew: ok

Drew: hey, would you like to come over and see my house? it’s a big house

This guy was too much. If he thought that my seeing his house would rub my inferiority in my face, he would be disappointed.

In a way he was right about me being a slave to money. I so much want to save for retirement that I am careful about what I spend money on, probably to the point of being a tight-wad, well, definitely to that point. If I ever get a chance to work overtime on my job I take it, even though I hate it, because I like being paid time-and-a-half. I would probably work overtime just to get paid regular time but my job does not have much overtime work available.

I always wondered how rich people lived. I think most rich people still work but they don’t need to so they are probably able to choose what they work on, maybe they focus on investing instead of working or maybe they just work part-time because they can. They probably work on what they love to do, I could only dream of that. I like watching those lifestyles of the rich and marvel at some of the huge houses they have.

So even though I figured Andrew would try to belittle me with his smug attitude, I wouldn’t be bothered by that and I wanted to see his house.

Tedman: Yes, I would like that

Drew: are you doing anything now?

Tedman: No

Drew: come over, i will e-mail you my address now, be here in 30 minutes?

Tedman: Yes, cool, I will see you then

Chapter 2 — Attitude

His house was large but it was not a mansion. He lived alone so maybe it was sufficient to have “only” 4 bedrooms, a big game room, a big swimming pool, etc.

I complimented him on the house as he gave me the tour. He was a cool guy to talk with, joking around, not the smugness I was expecting at all. We connected well, meaning he seemed to enjoy my jokes and he was very easy to talk with.

When the tour was over we sat on his living room couch and finished off milk shakes he had made. He brought up our earlier chat topic by asking “So do you feel like a slave to money?”

I said “Yes, I think a large majority of people do even if they don’t think of it that way. It isn’t really being a slave because we have a choice in how we earn money and since billions of people are all dependent on money it isn’t like feeling depressed or different, it’s just the way things are.”

He said “Not for me. When someone like you encounters someone like me, does that make you feel different?”

There is that inadvertent dig, “someone like you” as if I was a second-class citizen. It was amusing and I didn’t want to stop his smug and funny attitude by pointing out his choice of words.

I replied “I guess yes, sort of, except that we think of you as the different ones. Sort of like you are a freak.”

He laughed and did not take offense to my joking around. He said “Do you think of someone like me as a superior or just as a freak?”

I answered “I don’t think I get the superior thing. It’s my understanding that superior means Başakşehir Escort a better person, like superman or something. Superman can leap tall buildings with a single bound.”

He interrupted “And rich people can buy tall buildings.”

I let that sink in and said “Hmmm, I think I see what you mean. You can do things which others can’t, regardless of whether it is due to superhuman strength or whatever, and you feel that this makes you superior to others who can’t.”

He said “Right, exactly. Do you not agree with this point of view?”

I said “No, all men are created equal and just because someone can do something…. What about someone who can do math real fast or catch a football on their fingertips or sack the quarterback. Are they superior? I’m sure there is something I can do that most others can’t, that true for most everyone.”

He replied “Yes, in that one talent they have. But it’s the totality of the person which is at question, not just one talent. Now a great wide receiver in football is probably also rich so he is not only superior in being able to catch the ball but superior in having money to be able to do whatever he wants to do. So in his case I would say that he is superior.”

I said “Is money the only meaningful way someone can be superior?”

He answered “Pretty much. If you had a choice would you rather be able to catch a football on your fingertips but not be able to make any money off that or would you rather be rich?”

I said “Rich.”

He said “Would you rather do math real fast or be rich?”

I said “I think I see where you are going. Because most everyone in the world wants more money, those who already have a lot of money are superior to those who don’t, right?”

He said “Yes, exactly. Not only that most everyone wants more money, they need it, they can’t survive without it or can’t survive well anyway. They are slaves to money and there is literally no escape until death.”

I considered this for a moment. It was ridiculous to think that rich people were superior so there had to be a counter-argument but my mind was run into circles and I could not think of one.

I said “You win, I’m sure that there is something I’m not thinking of but you make a convincing case.”

He said “I don’t win if you do not believe what I am saying.”

I offered “I believe that you believe what you are saying.”

He replied “I want you to believe. How would you like $50?”

I responded “How would I like it? I would like it in two 20s and a 10” and we chuckled.

He said “No, seriously, I would like to offer you $50 to do something. Any interest?”

This was taking an interesting turn. It felt weird for a friend to be offering me money for something. If he had a job opening for me that would be one thing but he was trying to make a point and I felt uncomfortable with where this was going. On the other hand, I really liked having extra money to put in the bank and that was more important than any strange feeling I might have.

I answered “Yes, what do you have in mind?”

He said “I would like you to lie on the floor for 15 minutes while I rub my socked feet all over your face.”

What the hell. Does he have hatred for people he thinks are inferior that he wants to humiliate them? Maybe. But despite his vile offer I wasn’t getting that feeling, my intuition told me that he was just enjoying himself and he wasn’t doing this out of hatred.

I said “Let me think” and I thought it out for several seconds. $50 for 15 minutes is $200 an hour which is around 8 hours of work at my pay rate, and it is tax free so that is really something like the equivalent of $300 an hour which is around 12 hours of work. Would I rather work 12 hours or have his socked feet rubbed on my face for 15 minutes?

This was a no-brainer by a long shot. I said “Yes, I’m game.”

That made him happy, I could tell from his body language.

In writing this journal I realize now that my math was off. He was not going to pay me the equivalent of 12 hours of my work, he was paying me $50 which was the equivalent of 2 hours of my work or the equivalent of 3 due to the tax adjustment. I feel shamed that my mind was not able to do this math but this was in the past.

To comply with our deal, I got down on the floor and lay parallel to the couch, face up. He took his tennis shoes off and then started rubbing his white socked feet all over my face. He was rubbing it in good to completely humiliate me as I felt his socked foot on my forehead then pressed against my nose, while he rubbed his other foot against my lips. I had been breathing through my mouth to avoid the smell but he covered that with his foot so now I had to smell his sock and it smelled as I expected, like a foot.

This was a lot more humiliating than I had anticipated. I wondered how many showers I would need to take to get the smell off my face. But 15 minutes of this was infinitely better than 12 hours of work.

After a few Başakşehir Escort minutes he said “Do you feel inferior now?” I could not answer with his foot over my mouth, he laughed and said “Oh sorry, your too busy worshipping my foot!” and laughed some more.

I did feel inferior. Rich people would never feel the need to have someone’s feet in their face. Probably most other people wouldn’t agree to do this in the first place so maybe it didn’t have anything to do with rich or not, maybe I just was inferior for allowing myself to be a slave to money.

After 15 minutes he lifted his feet off my face and I felt relief at the fresh air and just being done with the humiliating experience. I wondered if he and I could ever even chat like normal people again but I had overestimated the effect of this, from his point of view he already felt that I was inferior so my being under his feet was not something out of character. As I got off the floor I tried to pick up my self-esteem to be able to talk with him and I was mostly successful.

When I was seated back on the couch he asked “Are you okay? Here is the $50.”

I accepted the money and replied “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” Seeing the money in my hands definitely lifted my spirits.

He asked “Was it worth it?”

A part of me didn’t want to say the full truth because I felt humiliated and the full truth would humiliate me even more, but a bigger part of me wanted him to know the full truth so that my bank account could grow with hopefully more offers of money.

I replied “Yes, it was very much worth it, thank you very much.”

He was beaming. He said “There is plenty more where that came from, if you are interested?”

Chapter 3 — Interest

I was very interested. If I understood him correctly, this could be a good source of quick income for me. I figured that I could not grovel under his feet a whole lot of times, my self-respect does have some boundaries, but every now and then who knows?

I answered “Yes, I am very interested.”

He said “Wow, that is great.” He paused and said “Do you feel inferior now?”

I replied honestly and because I figured it was what he wanted to hear “Yes, I am inferior to you…” I agonized over whether or not to say the next word, I wanted him to keep feeding me cash so I wanted to say it but the next word was humiliating for me to say, even more humiliating than admitting that I am inferior. I went ahead and said it, “…, sir.”

He smiled at me and said “I like that, a whole lot.” He then acted like a mystic seer and said “I think I see a bright future for you, lots of money in your future.”

It was strange how casual he was about this situation. He felt completely in his element lording his superiority over me while at the same time joking around with me as if I was an equal. He didn’t seem to have any hatred in him so, while he was enjoying my humiliation it didn’t seem to be because he is sadistic in wanting me to be in pain, he was just enjoying the feeling of superiority. I guess that is a type of sadism but this was consensual because I was getting a good amount of money so I was good with it.

He asked “Would you like some more money now?”

I felt like a dog in his Master’s leesh, would you like to go out to play now? Yes, oh please, yes I love to play! More money please, sir, yes!

I tried to keep cool and said “What do you have in mind?”

He said “Same thing and same $50 except my feet would be bare.”

Ugh, bare feet on my face for 15 minutes. I didn’t know if I could take that. 15 minutes of that or 12 hours of work. Gosh, that was so much money for such a small amount of time. $50 it may not seem like much but it is like dinner for 10 nights for me on my meager budget. This was another no-brainer except I wanted to make sure of something.

I asked “Are your feet dirty?”

He took one sock off and put his foot on his knee and said “Take a look.” His foot was not dirty at all.

So I said “Okay, should I lie down now?”

He playfully waved his arms motioning downward and said “Be my guest.”

I dreaded what was about to happen but I got down on the ground and waited for it. He did not hesitate, he rubbed one bare foot all over my face and seemed to linger on my lips to really drive home the humiliation. His foot was a bit sweaty and I could feel it sticking just a tiny bit to my face each time he pressed down.

This was terrible. I felt like dirt under his feet and that’s what I was. He rested one foot over my eyes and forehead while the other bare foot played with my lips and nose. He rubbed his big toe against my lips and I almost gagged, I pursed my lips to get them out of the way and that helped. With my mouth covered I had to breathe through my nose and the smell of his feet was not overly strong but it was definitely the smell of sweaty feet and it took all of my effort not to turn my body away.

I kept telling myself 12 hours of work, 12 hours of work and that helped Escort Başakşehir me a lot during this humiliation. I was able to calm down and not be as sensitive to the smell of his feet, the feel of his toe on my pursed lips and on my nose, and the overall humiliation at being under his bare feet.

Fortunately, he didn’t say anything because I don’t know if I could have taken any more humiliation.

When it was over and he lifted his feet off my face I turned over on my stomach and then was going to push myself up but I was so humiliated that I just wanted to bury my face in the carpet. I realized that I wanted to cry but I fought that off since the ordeal was over.

I pushed myself up to my knees and then onto the couch, but I could not make eye contact with him.

He asked “Are you okay?” and held out another $50 bill.

This time the truth was that I was not yet okay but I didn’t want him to know that, I wasn’t ready to decide whether or not I wanted any more of his money this way and I worried that if I let him know how much I was hurting he might not offer again so I took the safe route and answered while still looking away “Yes, I just need to catch my breath.” I grabbed the $50 and put it in my pocket.

He chuckled and said “That makes sense, I imagine that there wasn’t much fresh air down there” and chuckled at his joke which increased my humiliation.

Chapter 4 — Recovery

It did not take me long to recover my self-esteem, or a bit of it anyway, and I was able to look at him while we talked further.

This experience was painful for me and I wondered if he experienced any pain at being down $100 just for 30 minutes so I asked him “Are you okay from a money standpoint?”

That really made him laugh. He didn’t seem to be laughing at me as if my question was stupid, he was just genuinely tickled.

When he was done laughing he said “That is one of the great things about being rich, spending money is easy and it is like a drop in the bucket.”

I said “I envy you. You really are superior to me.”

I said this strange statement because I wanted to continue to puff up his ego so he would feed me more cash. Even after the two sessions of humiliation I decided that 12 hours of work was much much much much worse and I would go through probably as many sessions as he wanted. I also made the statement because after so much humiliation I felt that the statement was true, he could have me groveling on the floor beneath his feet while he laughed at me, and it was just because he was rich and I was not. That made him superior.

I reminded myself that most people would probably not agree to grovel under his feet for $50, and it was not right for me to speak about rich people or poor people in general. In my mind I retracted my general thoughts and just focused specifically on him and me. He is superior to me, I am inferior. I felt that this was true with all of my being, now. I am a slave to money and he is not. It is just a simple fact.

After my statement he seemed to really look into my eyes. I think he was trying to see how sincere I was. He said “Would you like to make more money?”

I almost blurted out my excitement like a dog, I quickly stopped myself but I then quickly felt ashamed for it. Am I really so pathetic?

I managed to say “What do you have in mind?”

He said “For $20 I would like you to spend 10 minutes licking my bare feet.”

Oh my gosh. Licking his feet this time? I couldn’t do that, that was too much. And it was only $20. I had to thing this through so I said “Let me think.”

$20 for 10 minutes is $120 for an hour which is almost 5 hours of work and if you include tax that is around 7 hours of work. Would I rather spend 7 hours at work or 10 minutes licking his bare feet?

This can’t be as much of another no-brainer as it sounds. 7 hours is a long time at work, I could get almost a whole day worth of pay for just 10 minutes?

But geez it was 10 minutes of licking his feet. But it was 7 hours of work.

I said “That sounds good to me.” When I said it I felt as if I was agreeing to something big, like agreeing to cut my arm off, and a part of me had instant regret for agreeing to this but a bigger part of me was really glad at being able to make so much money for a small amount of time.

He said “Get down on your knees in front of me” and I said “Yes, sir.” In the past couple of minutes he seemed more, something, I think it was more demanding, less respectful. He didn’t help guide me to the floor like last time, he basically commanded me to kneel at his feet. His attitude increased my humiliation and feeling of inferiority but $20 was $20 so I gladly obeyed his command and internally thanked him for the opportunity to serve him.

Once I was on my knees he crossed one foot over his knee and told me “I am going to watch as you lick my foot. You need to lick all over my foot for 10 minutes.”

I said “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

Why the hell did I say thank you? I don’t need to worship him, that was not part of the task I was being paid for. I need to just do what he says and stop being so inferior, except that inferior is just how I felt, especially at this moment, and I actually did feel thankful that he was allowing me the opportunity to lick his foot.

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