Tomas Styl, the office foot master, indulges in a nylon-soaked fantasy, his sheer socks accentuating every contour of his large, masculine feet. In the hushed silence of the corporate world, he pays homage to his feet, the object of his lust. He runs his hands over the smooth nylon, his fingers tracing the lines of his arches, his toes curling in delight. His worship is intense, his desire palpable, as he loses himself in the sheer, nylon-clad touch of his own body.