Part six is now ready with some interesting new secret tales. Thanks to everyone for the submissions.
Do you have a fetish secret or something you want to confess anonymously? To be published it needs to be an experience that was secret in some way, you can treat this like a confession. The only catch is it must be something related to trampling, sneaker, sock or foot fetish. Vanilla sex secrets will be ignored sorry!
Get in touch here:
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Twitter: austrampler
Email: shwtguy@outlook.com
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I was working as a concierge. Lots of residents would leave their shoes outside the unit front door. There was one guy, a hot tradie, who left his boots there often. I used to go during my patrol just to smell his boots. One time I was lucky enough that he left his socks with them, and I stole them. His boots would often have an intense cheesey smell to them, but the socks had a perfect scent. I would wank a lot while sniffing them. Sometimes I would wear the socks too, they gave me some sort of sexual energy and I would be hard and horny all day in them. Luckily I never got caught. It's easy when you're in control of the security cameras.
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In Greece, every male has to do military service. So here I am going into basic training and somehow me and two other guys end up at the restaurants for the whole duration of basic training, in charge of setting up the section of our company/group for breakfast, lunch and dinner and overseeing the unlucky guys who'd get picked to do the clean up chores afterwards. We'd spend a great deal of our day there with all the guys responsible for the other companies. There was this one guy who was very frustrating and getting on everybody's nerves with repeated questions and lack of communication skills. So one day there he is sitting on the floor, his back on the wall and his feet spread wide open in front of him. As always he was pestering us with his comments until one guy had had enough and walked up to him kicking him in the nuts with his army boots and then stomping and grinding his boot on the guy's cock and balls for the best part of a minute. The guy on the floor screamed in pain but I was secretly wishing it was me who received that treatment. A few months on and I am assigned to a military camp on the island of Rhodes. One day the camp commander orders another guy and me to cut off some branches from a very big tree outside the administration building of the camp. The tree had a big trunk and a couple of really major branches which could hold a person's weight but were far enough from the ground for someone to climb on unassisted. The branches that needed to be cut where higher still. So, this guy I'm with, who is very slim, suggests we go get a ladder to climb on the lower branch. I said "Why should we get in all that hassle when I can help lift you up on the branch? You are not really heavy!" So I made a step with my hands and offered him to use them to climb on. He put his boot on my hands, I started lifting him up until he got hold of the lower branch. But he still needed some assistance and I said "why don't you use my shoulder?" which he promptly did. As a bonus, his crotch was rubbing on my face as I lifted him up. He proceeded to cut the branches while I stared at his dusty boot soles from beneath and the boot print they had left on my hands!
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I've only ever told one person this story. I still can't believe I got away with this, or even dared to try it. This is a very long story and no feet or trampling action even happened, but it was very nerve wracking yet exciting for me at the time. Bare with me and the details, I'd like to try and recount everything I remember and I promise this is all totally true. I went to an all-boys high school with approximately 1,500 students. I really enjoyed the warmer months where they would wear sandals to school as part of our uniform. In my year I was not one of the popular kids, but I was also not one of the goths or 'losers'. I was somewhere in the middle I guess, generally unnoticed, which probably helped me. I had crushes on a couple of the guys in the popular group, in particular Mitchell. His feet were nice, not the best of the group (his two toes after the big toe were slightly webbed) but he was sort of the unofficial 'leader', the effortlessly popular and cool guy - you know the type. There was something about his attitude and dominance I was attracted to. Him and his friends briefly bullied me right at the start of high school, but it felt like their interest in girls took over and they never paid me much attention after that. I remember him sitting near the front of the class one day, facing back to everyone with his feet propped up on the desk in plain sight. What a view! And his face had a look of defiance on it, 'yeah look at my feet, check them out, admire them'. Weirdly, I think he was proud of his feet, often having them on display like that. Anyway, as the years passed and we got towards the end of high school, the internet was becoming popular. It was the days of MSN messenger and ICQ chat, if anyone remembers that. I had been using MSN for a while but stumbled across ICQ and downloaded it. It basically did the same thing as MSN, just another way to chat with people. One day I was searching for people on there out of curiosity, and somehow stumbled across the popular guys from school. Mitchell, James, Thomas and some of the others. I hatched a plan. I created an ICQ account, 'ilovemitchellsfeet'. Set up an email address. It was the internet, no one knew who I was, I felt safe. I added them all and started typing to them in the messenger. I told Mitchell how perfect his feet were, how I dreamed to sniff them and rub them, how I would love the feeling of him standing on me and how much of an honour it would be to be his foot slave, etc. I told James how good his feet were, that they weren't as good as Mitchell's, but they were still good and how I wished he could step out of his truck onto me on the ground. Well, it fucking exploded. They were all trying to figure out who I was. We talked and talked online, all the while me never revealing who I was. They found out all about what I like though. It was everywhere at school. I was in many classes with them, and could often hear them talking about "the foot guy". It was intense for the first few weeks. I'm surprised the teachers didn't pick up on it. In the locker rooms I heard them talking about it, walking between classes joking about it.. debating why anyone would like feet in the first place, "You can catch stuff from dirty feet, yuck!" I would rate their feet from best to worst and I would hear them at school retelling everyone this with many laughs. What probably spurred them on too was after each day at school I would log on to ICQ having heard a lot of the things they said, and continue those conversations with them or question what they said. At times it made them think that it was someone in their group playing a big prank on them. I had their girlfriends messaging me too. Mitchell's girlfriend would talk about how nice and soft his feet were. When things felt like they were dying down and they were losing interest, I would stoke the fire again with more details or something unusual and it would take off once more. After a few weeks of this I started to get too cocky with it though, confidently hiding behind my screen. Thomas was one guy who messaged me the most, trying to get to the bottom of who I was. I taunted him, I would tell him I was someone else.. and then wait for the first class the next morning when I would watch him approach that person and hit him up about it. Another time Thomas wanted to meet up in person. He promised to walk all over me in his cleats and make me lick all the dirt off them, he was willing to do it whoever I was but just really wanted to find out who I was. It was such a tempting offer but I was too worried that he would show up and then leave straight away having found out my identity. I agreed to meet him at a spot under the trees near the school field one day, but of course I never showed up. I imagined him walking there with his cleats. It was a big school but I was often in the right place at the right time to see things. I remember one day at lunch time they were sitting on the other side of the grass round, near our small amphitheatre. I was sitting at the top of the stairs with my friends. I was close enough to see them easily, but had no way of knowing what they were talking about. By this stage the whole thing had been going for a few weeks. I just happened to be watching at the right moment when Josh stood up in their group. It looked like he was about to lay down, for Thomas to stand on him. For whatever reason they never did it though. That night I took a punt and asked Thomas online why he didn't stand on Josh at lunch. I was right. That seemed to seal the deal with them thinking it was an elaborate prank from a friend, maybe Josh, who else could have known what was said and done in that moment. I made a huge blunder not long after this though. I didn't have a cell phone back then, didn't know how they worked or anything about them. James had given me his cell phone number to call and have a chat. I decided to use my mother's cell phone to call him up. I rang the number, but hung up as soon as he answered. Little did I know, that he now had my mother's cell phone number! What an absolute nightmare. I couldn't believe I was so stupid. He started calling back straight away. I thought about destroying the phone, but I thought she might just get a new phone with the same number anyway. In the end I made up some story about how kids at school had found parent's numbers and were doing prank calls with stupid stories. Eventually he had called and talked with her, telling her what I'd been doing, but I think she bought my story. Either way, I didn't hear much about it after that and he never called again. With such a close shave I decided I had to stop and backed away from them online. However, the guys now had my mother's first name at school and were using it to try figure out who I was. Mercifully, they never did. This all went for a month or two, and it took another month or two after that to die down and seemingly be forgotten. Despite knowing my mother's name not lining up with Josh's mother's name, from what I heard they seemed to decide it was him, Eli was particularly vocal about how he thought Josh was the guy, "He'll come out one day." At the time it was all such a thrill, having them know about all the foot fetish and trampling stuff and having them talk and joke about it so often. I think Mitchell enjoyed the attention his feet were getting too. If they had ever worked out it was me, I would have never heard the end of it. Potentially I might have had to change schools. In recent years I have found some of them on Facebook, but I don't dare to message. I can see a lot of them are still friends with each other. I wonder if they ever talk about 'the foot guy'.
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I remember being in college and staying in a student hostel. The building was really dated, we had old wooden desks and beds in our rooms. They weren't bunk beds, just normal beds.. but under the thin mattress was storage. You just lifted the wooden door up and had a whole bed sized storage cupboard there. I shared a room with one other guy, so I had to be careful when I chose to jerk off. I was horny one time and realised that if I lay in the storage unit under my bed, I could use my sneakers and something long-ish (usually a big text book) to connect the top of the cupboard to the sneakers on my body. Basically, this set up would push the weight of the cupboard door on top, down onto the sneakers on my body. It felt pretty damn good so I started doing this fairly regularly. It was always an adrenalin rush because what if my roommate came back in and I was stuck under there for a time, or caught me getting in or out of it. Luckily I was never caught, and soon after I found a guy to actually trample me which was obviously a lot easier and better anyway.
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I had a roommate who I was good friends with. We travelled to the US together one time for a few months. There was something about this guy and his sleep.. he slept fucking deep. Nothing would wake him up. One time I tried slapping his face. Then I called his name, no response. I tried slapping him harder. Nothing. So, I decided to trample his head. Not for too long, maybe around a minute. Not full weight either, but it was fun. He never woke up. Some might think this is a lie but I swear it is true!
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