A Message From Steven:
Okay, so now that I've had to privilege, or rather, the misfortune of having to sniff all of these guys' socks, I'm in a much better position to grade them and rank them on the fictional stink-o-meter scale I came up with a while back.
To make it easier for you, I've ranked all the guys in order of foot odour potency, from weakest to strongest.
As you know, I'm not a fan of sniffing my own socks, so obviously I haven't included myself in there.
If I had to grade myself, I'd probably end up at the lower end, somewhere between Joey and Jeremy.
So here's my list!
As you can see, my friends, my foes, my Master and Shawn's roommates are all on the chart.
I've rated each of them from 1 to 20, and provided you with two graded lines underneath their individual stink-o-meter ratings.
The first line is my Max Tolerance Rating.
It stops at 15, meaning that I can handle socks worn by Jeremy, Joey, Brad, Josh and Kyle.
Chris would really be pushing it, but if I'm horny enough and focus on how hot his big muscles are, I can handle it okay.
His socks are really at the cusp of my upper limit though.
Chris is where it really starts to be unbearable for me. And considering I actually have a fetish for smelly socks and stuff, that should be quite telling of just how ripe and smelly his socks are.
The second line is my Preferred Comfort Zone; meaning that when it comes to forced sniffing and sockgags,
that's where my preference is at.
Chris' socks (the one's he'd just made me sniff) were a little too stale and downright smelly for my tastes.
Whereas Joey's was...how shall I put it, a tad bit boring?
It's possible the man could eventually rank higher on my list, but the only sock I'd seen from him so far (the one currently in my mouth) had been relatively mild-tasting compared to the others. Sweaty, but mild.
Jeremy had complained to me several times about Brad's socks and shoes, but the guy didn't have particularly smelly feet.
True, he intentionally
did stink his socks up by wearing them over and over, but even so, his footwear wasn't all that strong-smelling.
His socks would've ranked a bit higher six months ago, but after being repeatedly exposed to much stronger smelling footwear, I can honestly say he definitely belongs in the lower tiers of the chart.
Josh is where things really get interesting.
His socks and shoes stink! Not to the point of making me sick, but
definitely to the point of making me squirm and groan.
You did
not wanna be gagged and have the guy stick his shoes or socked feet on top of your face.
I love his Nike TNs! Which now brings me to the absolute BEST smelling feet of all.
Kyle's!
Kyle's huge basketball shoes smelled about as strong as Joshua's Nikes, but with an extra bit of cheesiness added to them.
I can honestly say, out of all the smelly shoes I'd sniffed, his were my favourite.
Even sexier in my books is the fact that, unlike Josh, Phil and Brad, Kyle wasn't the type of guy to intentionally work up a stink in his shoes.
His trainers were just filled with the heavy scent of sweat from playing sports, lifting weights and having some pretty cheesy smelling feet.
Any non-kinky vanilla person would be crinkling their nose up and grimacing at the smell of the Instagram God's beefy sneakers...but I wanted nothing more than to be tied down and have my face shoved in them.
Next on the list is Chris.
I don't have a ton to say about his socks.
The old mystery-sock Shawn gagged me with two nights ago was probably his.
But the thing had obviously spent weeks simmering at the bottom of the laundry hamper, and as a result, came out smelling stale and moldy.
Based on the socked foot Chris had recently planted over my nose though, his socks could get seriously smelly.
A little
too smelly for my taste even.
After that we're heading into the danger zone.
Phil's socks were DEFINITELY past my tolerance limit, and I'd literally never seen socks quite as crappy or as crummy-looking as his musky fucks.
The first pair of socks I'd seen him wearing (the ones he had on the day I met him) were just LOADED with crap and random bits and bobs of unknown origin. And while the month-old socks he was wearing today and yesterday weren't lined with as many crumbs and shit, they were really REALLY stained and moldy. His stuff was just plain gross.
Finally, it's time to talk about the elephant in the room; Big Mike.
Big Mike's feet REEKED and his socks oozed out one of the strongest and most UNBEARABLE odours I'd ever picked up.
I hadn't directly been exposed to his socks yet, but I didn't need to.
Just being in the same room with them secured him a top spot right at the end of my "danger zone".
Trust me, you did NOT wanna have your mouth taped up and your face anywhere near that man's jumbo size 15s.
You just didn't.
I won't go into too many details about the next three guys. I mean, if you've made it this far into my journal, then you already know them fairly well. They're part of the "no-go" group. In other words, those are the three guys who's socks you really DON'T wanna go up against.
No doubt about it, Nick and Shawn have the worst smelling feet of them all.
In many ways, Shawn's socks are arguably even worse than Nick's, 'cause he almost never washes them.
But when it comes to the absolutely worst smelling socks, nothing compares to the stench of Nick's drenched fuckers when I pull his muddy boots off at the end of a long day. NOTHING.
The only thing I'll say about Zack's socks is that they're probably among my least favourites.
Don't get me wrong, the guy was drop dead gorgeous and his feet and socks made me hornier than I'd previously thought possible.
But if we're talking about gags and stuff, his socks would definitely be among the absolute last ones I'd pick.
They didn't smell as rotten or as putrid as Shawn's or Nick's, and they didn't smell quite as fetid as Big Mike's.
But Zack's socks were virtually unmatched in potency and cheesiness.
And if there's one thing I'm not able to cope with, it has to be excessive cheesiness.
His socks STANK!
If Jeremy couldn't handle Brad's slightly smelly feet, I can't help but wonder how horrified and grossed out he must be each time his super buff knight in shining armour comes home from one of his hockey games and pulls off his enormous, crazy strong-smelling running shoes.
The cheesy stench coming outta those things was several orders of magnitude stronger than
anything Brad could produce. Poor boy.
There you have it, guys!
My fully updated stink-o-meter chart.