10 pm. Most people would be asleep by then, but unconventional work hours made it impossible for me to be asleep by then. I walked through the streets that lead up to our condo building, taking in the cool night air. Despite it being summer, most nights were significantly cooler, like in the Sahara. The bright street lamps ensured safe passage through the streets of my city, and pretty soon I found myself in the lobby. I greeted the receptionist, and made my way toward the elevator.

Ding!

The elevator door slowly opened was I reached the 14th floor, and I found myself facing a hallway with green wallpaper, brightly lit with white lights. I made my way through the maze of doors until I found 1408. I reached for my keys and turned the lock. The door opened into dimly-lit medium-sized room with a couch in the middle. My roommate, Victor, was laying on his stomach on the couch, his bare feet hanging off the armrests. His shoes and socks were beside the couch. The TV was turned on, a movie about roadtrips, teenagers, and romance played on the channel.

I made my way toward Victor, focused on the slender size 12 feet hanging off the edge. The long, bony toes twitched every once in a while as he dreamt. As I came nearer, the faint wrinkles on the soles of his feet became clearer, and his pink heels and curved arches barely reflected the dim light from the television. From this distance, the smell of his feet, shoes and socks combined had made blood rush to my penis. I planted a soft kiss on his left arch, the one with the mole on it. He stirred.

"You're late," he said groggily. He got up and made space for me on the couch.I sat down and removed my work shoes and peeled off my black socks, handing it to him. He took a loud, audible sniff. The smell of sweat and leather seemed to overwhelm him.

"That's good stuff," he whispered.

As a response, I reached out over the armrest and pulled one of his socks from inside his shoes. I sniffed them delicately, as one would do to a flower. The smell of Victor's feet permeated my nostrils. I sighed.

"Hey Dan," he said to me, after he finished savouring the smell of my feet. "Tomorrow's the big day, ain't it?"

"Sure is, buddy," I responded. "I've been waiting for so long, I can hardly wait."

As I said this I lifted my bare feet and placed it on his lap. I felt his penis harden with my toes. He picked up my right foot and started sucking on my toes, one by one. Finishing the pinky, he went back to my big toe, this time tracing the pad with his tongue. I wiggle the toe in response. He let go of my toe and placed his tongue on my heel. The moist warmth was pleasant, and the roughness of his tongue was pleasant as he licked up, tracing my arch with his tongue and licked accross the ball of my foot. He took my other foot and placed his nose between the big and second toe. He sniffed long and hard. He started nibbling on my heel.

"They're so tender, Dan," he mused, "and very aromatic as well."

I grabbed his foot and nibbled as well. "I really can't wait to eat your feet. If I didn't want to have them roasted, I would eat them raw right now."

"Be patient, dude," he said, "tomorrow we will be having a feast. Now, we should rest. The sooner tomorrow comes, the better!"

With that, we retreated to our respective rooms and took a shower, careful not to wash off the aroma and flavor from our feet too much. After that, Vic and I grabbed the socks we've been wearing all day, and put them on, so that our feet would be infused even more with the delightful aroma.

9 am came. I got out of bed excited. I got out the room just as Vic was going out of his. He had on a white V-neck shirt, board shorts and on his feet were the white ankle socks he wore all day yesterday and the white converse he wore them with.

"Hey buddy, I need to step out to go to the store for a bit," he said cheerfully, the hint of excitement obvious in his voice. "We ran out of spices we need for the dry rub."

"Perfect," I said, "are you using the car?"

"No. I'd rather walk. Make sure my feet sweat up really good."

"Even better!" I said, thinking of the wonderful aroma his feet would have after being cooked. The mix of spice and sweat floated in my head as I tried to imagine it. My mouth watered.

"Hey do me a favor and wear your leather shoes," he begged, "the one you wore to work yesterday. Work up a sweat as you assemble the guillotine. I just love the aroma of feet and leather."

"Sure, anything for you buddy."

"See ya later!"

He stepped out the door. I grabbed my work shoes and slipped them on. I moved the furniture to the side and retrieved the guillotine parts from the closet. The guillotine was acquired from the previous renfaire that Vic and I attended, and we had a special blade forged for it. Being the more handy of us, I started to assemble the guillotine piece by piece, trading the singular neckhole for a board with two holes to hold our ankles in place. After two hours of assembling, hammering and nailing, the guillotine was built at last. I worked out quite a sweat, as I purposefully left the airconditioning off. I could feel the dampness of my socks, my toes slick as I wiggled them. I retrieved the wheelchairs from the closet and put it by the ankle stocks.

Just as I was finishing up, Victor stepped in, a grocery bag on one hand. He laid out the various spices we needed for the dry rub. He retrieved a large bowl from the kitchen drawers and put the spices in: chili powder, dry mustard, ground cayenne pepper, ground dried chipotle pepper, cumin, pepper and salt. He mixed them with his hands. He placed it at the kitchen counter and washed off.

"So, who wants to go first?" He asked.

"Hmm I don't know, maybe I can?" I answered just as I was about to lie down on the guillotine.

"Hang on, let me!"

Before I could stop him, he shoved me off and sat on the guillotine bed. He lifted his legs up and placed his feet through the notch on the bottom part of the stocks. I placed the upper and locked his ankles in. I adjusted his legs so that the blade would fall on his leg just above the ankle. I asked him if he was ready. He placed a piece of cloth to bite on so that he wouldn't scream. I gathered the first aid supplies and gave him a thumbs up sign. He turned to me and reciprocated. I slowly untied his white converse sneakers and slipped them off slowly. The aroma of his sweaty feet filled the room immediately. I slid off his ankle socks and took a long whiff before placing them in a ziploc bag. I then got a plate, placed it under his feet and pulled the lever. The heavy blade fell and sliced clean through Victor's leg. He flinched, bit down on the cloth and shut his eyes tight. His soles made contact with the plate with two meaty slaps and I set it aside. I immediately got the kitchen lighter, cauterized his stump and bandaged the legs, just as Victor thought me. He inspected the bandage to make sure that he wouldn't bleed out and he gave me an okay sign with his hands. I reset the guillotine and helped him to a wheelchair.

Now it was my turn. I laid on the guillotine and Victor strapped me in as I grabbed a piece of cloth to bite on. He removed my leather shoes and I heard a strong sniffing sound as he savored the aroma of my leather shoes. He slipped off my socks and placed them in another ziploc bag. He placed a plate under my feet just as I did for him, and he pulled the lever. He caught my feet on the plate, set it beside the plate his feet was on and attended to my wounds. He took considerably less time dressing my wounds, seeing as he is a trained EMT and all. He helped me to a wheelchair.

"Man, that was intense," I said.

"Very," he replied.

And we set about working on preparing our feast. We grabbed the plates and set it by the sink. I lifted Victor's feet up and saw that his damp soles left a foggy imprint on the plate which almost instantly evaporated. I squeezed out as much blood as I can on the sink from Victor's feet, massaging it to force the blood out, and enjoying the feeling of his feet on my hands as well. He did the same with my feet.

"Man I would be enjoying that massage if those pieces of meat were still attached to me." He chuckled.

"Tough luck, then."

He retrieved the bowl with the dry rub and he placed my damp, smelly feet in it. He massaged it with the rub, making sure to get in between the toes and the creases in the soles. Satisfied with the rub, he placed my spice-coated feet on aluminum foil and wrapped it. I rubbed his feet in a similar manner and wrapped them in foil as well. We placed the feet in the oven and waited for them to cook.

After about 45 minutes or so, the feet were done. I set the table and Victor pulled the feet out of the oven, filling the whole room with the scent of feet and spices. He picked up his right foot with tongs and placed it on a plate along with my left foot. He put the remaining feet on another plate. He served the first plate to me and took the other for himself. I took a long whiff and started.

I took a fork and stuck in in the base of Victor's big toe, juices flowing from the puncture wounds, and started slicing off the tender toe pad. I placed it in my mouth and a wonderful, spicy yet salty flavor filled my tongue. The meat was tender, to the point that it seemed to melt in your mouth. I poked the crisped heel with my fork and punctured through the skin, juices flowed and dribbled toward the toes. I took my finger, and ran it down the length of Vic's foot and licked the juices off my finger. The taste was beyond compare. I sliced off the toes one by one, eating them whole and spitting out the bones and nails. I picked up the now toe-less foot and took bite after bite of the sole. I bit off the arch, chewed and savored it carefully, wanting to remember the taste forever. After finishing the meat on the soles, and arches, I moved on the tops and peeled off the thin layer of muscles, then I dug into the middle of the foot, between the bones and ate as much of the meat as I can. I even pulled the metatarsals out one by one just to suck on the thin strips of meat that still clung onto them. I was left with the heel and ankles. I bit down into the heel and juices semi-exploded over my faces. I licked my lips to get as much taste of it as I can and bit off the heel meat whole. I savored the slightly tough, calloused heels Victor had and moaned with pleasure at the savoury taste of his heels. Lastly, I sucked off the meat from the ankles, and enjoyed the chewy achilles tendon on his right foot. I put down the bone to join the others. I looked at my raging boner. I think I orgasmed due to the sheer pleasure of the taste of Vic's foot. I looked at Vic as he placed the bones of my foot down beside his still untouched left foot, a look of extreme ecstacy on his face. I made eye contact with him, and winked, and started on my left foot.