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  1. #1

    Zanadu's Foot Fetish Stories


    It's late in the evening and the object of my tickle-lust is walking home having finished work in the office. His car, his usual mode of transport is in to be repaired he thought it best to walk through the park. It's a nice enough evening and although it's dark, he's happy of the exercise. I follow him as he leaves the side entrance of the park and enters the dimly lit alley way. For a second, just a second, he reconsiders this route but his brief flash of doubt is replaced by his more rational voice that tells him in a tone that he's 23yrs old, 6' and fit enough to look after himself and that nothing sinister awaits him in the shadows of the alley. He's kind of right, nothing sinister awaits him but my presence concealed in the shadows feels a rush of adrenaline as my plans come steadily closer towards fruition as my target takes confident size 12 steps in the dark alley. He's half-way down the alley when the sound of movement and a crash send him spinning on his heels, facing the way he came. He doesn't let the panic show and clenches his hands into fists, readied for confrontation. He waits. No assailant makes himself known and no gang slouches from the shadows demanding cash. Instead, a drunken homeless man drags himself up from the anonymity of the darkness, flashes a crooked grin towards him and says something unintelligible about Christmas before ricocheting off the alley walls towards the street. Our protagonist allows himself a moment to sigh and enjoy the relief as his adrenal glands power-down and his heart steadies it's rhythm. He's struck by the humour of the situation as he turns around to continue his journey only to have panic flare in his blood as he turns to face a dark and cloaked shape, so close to him he can feel it's breath on his face. He has no time to respond before a mist erupts upwards into his face and into his body, dragged into his system by the first few sharp intakes of breath as his body responds to this new threat. The blur of alert responses in his mind quickly changes to a blur of colour and vision as he feels himself slip into unconsciousness. Before his system gives in completely to the chemical that sedates it, he is dimly aware of his brain anticipating the pain of contact with the concrete floor as his body falls towards it. This contact is never made as the last thing he feels are arms which catch him firmly by the shoulders and pull him back to standing. He's then pitched, seemingly effortlessly, forward over the shoulder of his attacker. His mind gives up the fight to get another clue as to which direction he is being carried and he embraces the comfort of the darkness that triumphantly cocoons him.

    Leonard Marx awakes sometime later, rather sharply and seems enthralled by a light above him. Once again his rational mind, fast gaining ground after it repression by an unknown chemical agent, berates his fanciful pondering that he is dead and beginning his ascension to heaven towards that brilliant clean, white light. No; he's very much alive! He's also very much in nothing but his underwear and thin black nylon socks and very much tied spread-eagle to a table. As if to prove the point, he's becomes aware of the smooth texture of the wood beneath his back, and the firm restraints on his wrists and ankles. There is also a thin restraint around the top of his head, around his waist at a similar level to his boxer shorts and around his biceps and thighs, utterly fastening him in his current position. From what he can see from his wrist restraints his cuffs are lined with some kind of fur....sheepskin, maybe. He draws a small degree of comfort from this; whoever captured and restrained him clearly meant him to be comfortable whilst he was down. Assured that he will not damage himself, he attempts to pull against his restraints but knowing full well the result. He cannot move. The light he had mistaken for the light of Heaven calling is in fact a halogen bulb fixed above him. The cone of light it casts down onto him and all around him illuminates the floor (clean and similarly wooden as the table) about 2 yards around him. The ceiling and the rest of the room remain in complete darkness. The room is warm and he cannot feel a breeze indicating a crack in a door or an open window. Very faintly, from somewhere behind him, he can hear the sound of traffic. Nothing else about his location yields any further clue as to where he is being held.

    There is a sudden series of movements to his right. Footsteps. He can move his head a few inches to the right, doing so in time to see my cloaked figure standing at the edge of area illuminated by the lamp. What comes from his mouth is a stream of frustrated threats, demands, questions and compound expletives whilst he pulls and flexes fruitlessly at his restraints. I unmoved by the outburst. Further infuriated by his captors apathy, he unleashes a second verbal assault and bout of pointless thrashing. Again I do not respond or retaliate against the handsome man. Keen to explore a different tactic the man calms himself and takes a few deep breaths. Facing me his captor as much as his bounds will allows he asks in as much of a calm manner as he can muster...

    "Are you going to hurt me?"

    For a moment I am still then shake my head back and forth. The hood over my head billows with the motion but stillonly hints at my face underneath. Reassured with my answer and confident of the key to the communication, he asks...

    "Will you let me go??"

    With no hesitation I nod but then shake my head. From his position on the table the man considers this contradictoryanswer. It would seem that the answer to this response makes itself clear in his mind. The answer is yes but not now.
    Two gloved hands emerge from the darkness as my caped figure slowly claps in a pantomime of congratulation. On thefifth slow clap, the figures hands stop and remain cupped and together, held out into the light. motionless as I amposed another question,"Is it money you want? Look I can arrange it for you, how much do you want?

    His panic rambling was stopped as his captor, I dropped my left arm back to my side and into darkness and extended my arm right smoothly into the light, balled all my fingers into my palm, save for my index finger which I wagged backand forth slowly. Whilst nothing accompanied this verbally, it was a clear enough message - Blackmail/financial gain was clearly on the agenda but was not of interest to me! His arm once again stayed in the light, my index finger had stopped wagging and instead pointed upwards.

    "What is it you want from me?" the man asked me genuinely curious and it was time to tell him so leaning over him I whispered in the executive's ear the word "Tickle!"

    He let out a panicked yelp from the table in reaction. "Fuck No" he stammered several times as the ridiculousness of the situation dawned on him as well as the horror of what is to befall him. How did I, this mysterious caped figure know his weakness? Surely he must be joking? Not that, oh shit, please anything but that and I smiled seeing this! Too late and my finger crawled into the warm, slight damp recesses of his armpits and increase their friction. He grimaced and strained to keep his laugh from escaping. I sensed his resistance and in a barely audible whisper issued a single request;

    "Now laugh for me!"

    He resisted, he knew he had to resist. He must resist as if he submitted to the tickling sensation at his armpits, if he allowed himself to really take in the sensation of my fingers flicking around in his armpit hairs, pressing themselves into his skin and pushing at the thick muscle either side then he'd never regain his composure. He remembered in a startlingly vivid flashback, a time when he was 18yrs old and his elder brother and some of his friends crept into his room and they tortured him for their amusement. Initially he'd endured the dead-leg blows but all hope of endurance was shot when his brother announced to the group that it was far, far easier to make him squeal like a girl tickle torturing him and their parents away the weekend leaving his 19 yr old brother in charge, he and his friends did! There were tickling fingers around his belly, his pits, his ribs and the soles of his feet. Youthful exuberance pushed the interrogation to a point where he started to find it hard to catch his breath, they tickled him with shorter but more intense bursts. The four of them, two either side of his ribs and two others that included his brother by his feet and they'd teased him to confessing to some of the direst sexual acts with any number of decrepit school staff and fellow pupils they could think of including themselves! They made him confess not only to the act (drawing crude pictures of everything he told quickly on the soles of his feet with a biro) but the details of the act (fingers "buzzing" at his ribs) and also that he liked, no, that he loved doing it so it was not me that broke him but his own astute recollection at this previous experience of torture I'd made him remember. I whispered again "Now laugh for me! and the thought of being tickled was too strong on his head and he broke into hysterics as I reminded him of someone liking the smell and taste of his teen feet finding them ticklish and the others having gone to their beds returning later to his room alone and gagging him with one of his socks; abusing his very ticklish feet orally, sucking every toe and sucking them all interspersed with tickling them!

    Now facing his feet again, he knows who I am and remembers I told him that I would enjoy his feet again though it had taken me eight years to do so but now here are his feet smelling raunchy as I remember them, as addictive to me finding their smell awesome as I remember and slowly peeling off both socks having initially felt their warm, sweaty moistness making him remember the August night of 2004 when his feet were first raped by me for hours!


    I increased the intensity; my finger juddered firmly back and forth against the soles of his now bared feet, sending waves of ticklish sensations wracking my victim into further hysterics
    "Good boy!" I whispered, "Don't stop! Don't hold it in. Tell me how it feels"

    It felt great hearing him howl his response


    My hands flicked up n' down the soles of his feet and I changed my tickling style which became lighter but more frantic in response to the sensitive soles. This quick change made Leonard shriek and sent his laughter to a higher pitch which thrilled me even more as his laughter was I remember infectious but not previously heard by me at full volume but muffled as I had needed to gag him before.

    "Can't take it hahaha heeheeheestooophahahanoooopleeeezehahahahaKEITHNOO OO!"

    "Why can't you take it Leonard? Are you ticklish Leonard? How ticklish are you Leonard?

    This new line of questioning nearly sent him out of his mind, the tickling changed direction and was beginning to creep onto his ribs,then skitter to his armpits without pattern of warning; tougher and slower, probing the groves of his rib cage without inflicting pain then scribbling up into his armpits lightly which were moist and sweaty too!


    "Where are you ticklish Leonard?" The tickling abruptly stopped and I waited for him to catch breath and speak.

    Panting with exhaustion, he looked up at me, his caped tickler as I stood upright as I'd been body level with him.

    "Why do you want to know? You're going to tickle me anyway; so why do I need to tell you? You know you bastard!"

    "Yes - your torment is far from over but I'm offering you a chance to offer information without it being extracted. Your compliance in this matter will expedite your release. I already have you broken and at my mercy but I assure you it can certainly get worse. Your choice, of course Leonard but recall how addicted and insatiable I was for your feet that hellish summers night, their warmth, smell, taste and sensitivity and now they are larger, more appetising to me having not been bare under bedcovers but in thin black nylon socks all day with you sat at the office desk!

    Leonard considered the request. Foolishly, he hoped his now known masked tickler would steer clear of other parts of his body if he made it clear where he was ticklish. Perhaps his tickler would be content merely to know where he was ticklish and not feel the need to test the accuracy of his confession? He decided to test the water.

    "Everywhere" he practically shouted "I'm ticklish everywhere."

    In response I quickly ran my fingers over his belly, I tickled softly down his stomach from the base of his chest, the tickling ended, at the band of his boxers as he squirmed

    "Be specific!" I said stroking his armpits lightly while having leaned over him again sniffing at them both.

    "Aaaaha hahahahahah ahah - OKAY, OKAY, okay okay - I'm ticklish all over: my armpits, my ribs, my stomach, inside my thighs, the soles of my feet, in-between my toes, the backs of my knees and even my neck - everywhere, honestly!
    I'm really ticklish! EVERYWHERE!"

    I once again resumed my belly tickling attack, my tickling was light and quick, making soft, spidery movements over his stomach and more squeezing movements at the side. The tickling sensation here was different but still intense.
    The stomach tickling made the muscle wall underneath flex and twitch and he tried in vain to pull away but every limited move to the left was met with a tickling hand that ushered him back into centre where my teasing hands scribbled all over his stomach. The laughter it produced was just as forth-coming but somewhat less exhausting!


    "You foolish idiot Leonard, I'm not out to prove anything, this isn't an experiment!" I whispered in his ear.


    I stopped and told him menacingly to the point.

    "I want you to laugh! I've already told you! I'm going to make you laugh for as long as I care to listen to you and tickle your body. I have no purpose other than to tickle you into howling hysterics so Leonard you WILL laugh but first, I'd like you to watch something!

    The TV screen came into his view and came to a stop just above his chest, obscuring his view of me his captor. Before he could question this recent development, more mechanisms whirred into life below him and with a sharp hydraulic hiss, the table from his shoulders upwards, began to raise. His head was bought closer to his chest, quite comfortably, so his line of sight was solidly towards the screen. There was another low frequency emission from the screen as it was bought online and he was faced with an insignia of an electronics firm he was not familiar with. After a few seconds the screen and whatever other equipment it was attached to began to auto-scan for an image.

    "What is it I'm going to be watching?" he asked me his torturer, clearly glad of the break from tickling but trying not to betray this relief in his voice. His question however went unanswered. Instead, the image that greeted him made him scream:


    He could almost smell the smoke as his relief burnt to the ground at the sight of what was on that screen and the mechanical whir of equipment as the cameras focused in on its target. On the screen in front of him was a pair of feet. Very tightly restrained bare feet and size 12's and both ticklish, unbearably ticklish and they were his!
    He felt movement at his feet and he watched as a board was clipped at the top of his ankles. He scrunched his toes into his feet as he laid eyes on the periodic holes drilled into the upper part from which laces seemed to be threaded. These were deftly slipped in between and over his toes and all his flexing offered no assistance as they were pulled tightly against the board and secured. He felt the smooth groove inlayed into the wood, specifically designed to the contours of a foot his size to bring the foot taut and still against the board, leaving the sole utterly exposed. Then the tongue, the wetness he remembered from 2004 as just as back then I began orally relishing in their ripe taste licking in between each of his toes and sucking them all and saliva coating his addictive feet but the next thing he heard was a first, the popping of a bottle being opened and he immediately flinched and gasped as he felt something warm and wet touch his foot other than my tongue and mouth teasing and nibbling his feet.

    "Aha HA FUCK! AH Fuck! Stop, Dont do it, DONT PLEASE FUCKIN' DONT!"

    Far from tickle, the touch was firm but smooth.

    "Ssssh Leonard!" I urged, "I suggest you enjoy the respite and listen to what I have to say very carefully."

    An absence of complaint from the top of the table signalled that the instructions were being followed as directed.

    "Save your protests - what happens next is inevitable because I want it to happen. for now, however, I suggest you enjoy your massage Leonard."

    The massage became a two-handed affair and both his soles were coated in oil. The motions of the massage felt as he told me amazing and good, I suppose thinking this would please and satisfy me to completing it and releasing him but he was mistaken as I made broad strokes from the heels of his feet up to the balls of his feet where his toes were bound and rippled the pressure back down again. Try as he might, he could not help but sigh with pleasure as the oil was gently worked into the soles of his feet. He watched the masterful ministrations rub slow circles around the soles of his feet, cupping the tops of his toes for support and gently pulling them upwards. So heady with pleasure of having his feet manipulated and expertly massaged, he could not help the words as he exhaled them; "Oh that feels good, really relaxing Keith!"

    "Yes, it does, doesn't it Leonard and thats precisely what I want you to feel. I'm going to start tickling your feet soon, very soon and I want you to laugh, I want you to laugh and tell me how it feels! I want you to tell me how ticklish you are on your feet. I'm going to tickle your feet all kinds of ways and if you dont tell me what each method feels like; well,I'll just have to stay here longer and tickle you until you do tell me how it feels to be tickled as I never did in 2004! DO you believe I'm just as good at tickling feet as I am massaging them Leonard eh?"

    The massage began to slow, to lose its intensity, to lose its pressure. The contact was already beginning to transform, to change into a tickle so becoming a little faster and much lighter.

    "Yes, Yes, yes Keith I believe you, I believe you! I'm really ticklish on my feet, it's really going to tickle. You can tickle me really well, you're a good tickler, so please, please please don't do this, huh? happy now? How about you just massage my feet for a bit longer?? You're really good at that!"

    "A commendable re-direction but about as effective as your outburst of profanity at the start of this session! Now here Leonard is the really important part!

    The massage stopped altogether and my hands dropped from the screen; All that was visible on the monitor was a pair of oiled feet.

    "Listening? Good! Whilst there are tools I can use to devastating effect to tickle you with, I'm far happier being a hands-on tickler, if you'll excuse the pun but make no mistake, my sensitive Leonard - if you do not do as I ask and tell me how your torture feels as it happens and as it changes, I will employ some tools on the soles of your feet that will blow your comprehension of ticklishness out of the water. Am I perfectly clear to you Leonard?

    The Y of "yes" barely had time to form on his lips before the screen showed my hands again and the attack on his his feet began! The caped tickler began running my fingers softly but quickly up and down both of his sweaty feet.

    The feathery touches still kept going up and down but as they reached the thick heels of his feet, I made scratchy motions with my nails until climbing my finger back up the soles where it was softer and became even more intense, "BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AOH FUCK FUCK FUCK HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THATS FUCKING TORTURE AHHAHAHAHAHHAHA PLEASE I

    The nails came back into play at the base of his toes, scratching irritatingly under the laces that bound them, sending crazy itching, tingling tickles through his legs. The scratchy nails then glided down the oiled soles of his feet where they intensified on the tougher skin of his heels again, double driving the sensation through him. He screamed!


    No such stop came. Instead I bought the tips of my nails flat to the soles of my victims feet and made tiny, almost vibratory movements all over the soles and creeped up them to the toes, itching just under the restraint. The tickling event went to the side of his foot the bordered with the shaped contour of the holding board. I really relished savouring his reactions as excited and maybe more so than when in 2004 I'd first seriously enjoyed them. The 18 yr old Leonard chewing on one of his own school socks as I had indulged in a meal of his teen feet loving raping them orally and manually knowing if he told his brother Nathaniel that he would have congratulated me and also there would be no physical marks left from the merciless assault as I satisfied my lust licking them all over!


    Leonard didn't go out of his mind but the tickling didn't stop. He screamed and laughed well into the night and I his torturer tickled him without reason. On one occasion he didn't inform his tickler that the sensation he was being exposed to was, in fact, tickling him. This error was rewarded on screen as he watched his foot become obscured by his caped tickler's head. The next sensation he felt was nibbling tooth-scrapes all over the balls and heels of his feet and his toes sucked, licked and nibbled. He laughed so hard he nearly passed out and he made sure his screams contained the word "tickle" and "ticklish" over and over again as much as he could manage.

    "NO! NO - No that! Please!" Leonard responded as my fingers stroked just below his toes, at the balls of his feet and gently up and down the bare soles as I teasingly asked him, “How does it feel Leonard?”

    He gritting his teeth and trying to pull away and my gripping at the top of his feet, he couldn't pull away in any direction being so tightly secured so I attacked again stroking under his toes, a real weak point on his feet asking him

    "Talk Leonard, tell me how this feels!?

    I loving the fact that of all the places Leonard hates being tickled, he really couldn't stand his feet being tickled. He hated it! He was too ticklish. So knowing this both now and back in 2004 I placed my thumb just under the ball of each foot in turn and bought the nail of my thumb up the ball and the rest of my fingernails down. The tickling movement was soft...but devastating for him and verbally taunting him!

    "I know it's tickling you Leonard. I can see it. I can feel it...you can feel it too, can't you Leonard? Tell me how ticklish your feet are!

    My thumbnail scratched a ticklish path up the balls of his feet and Leonard losing it as having no tolerance for tickling anyway but most especially not his bare feet..

    "How about a little faster Leonard? Just as gentle but a quicker tickle? Is that worse? Does it tickle you more?”

    It was! It did! I could see it and Leonard could feel his strength fail and he would scream out and let the laughter in his chest fill the room. It was torture and if he didn't laugh, he feared he'd chew through his lip! I simply escalated the tickling quicker than he'd expected. The tiny, butterfly tickles slid from the balls of his feet down the smooth concave of his soles and stayed there. I'd then increase the pressure ever so slightly but it worked!

    "How does it feel, does this really tickle badly, remember 2004 when these ticklish feet first attracted me?"


    "Good boy Leonard; you are very ticklish on your feet, aren't you? You're doing so well that I can't stop now!"

    I relished in tickling his soles, touching my finger tips to the balls of his feet and slowly running my fingers up and down the length of the soles from under his toes to his heels and his immediate reaction was delicious to taste seeing!


    Leonard was flexing against the tickling, trying to pull his feet away but with no effect. The more he tried to escape the tickles, the more I increased the foot tickling to teach him a lesson! Every inch of them so sensitive to my touch!

    "Keith please, please I can't take any more tickling. No more, please....."

    "Shhhhhhh," I responded "All in good time Leonard, I've plenty more to do before then, I need you to laugh more!"


    His pleading fell on deaf ears as I put my left and right hand on the respective foot of Leonard and began the butterfly-flick tickling technique I had so effectively broken him with back in 2004.


    I then licked his feet and lubricated by my saliva my fingers slithered up the tops of his feet and wound their way around his toes. I unlaced them and manually pulled his toes back as I had done that summer’s night to keep the soles of his feet taut. Flexing and wrinkling his feet provided little protection from my probing fingers anyway but now he had none and I took full advantage of this. I turned my attention to his right sole and began to flit the tips of my fingers up and down that foot. After a few seconds I began softly raking my fingers up n' down the sole. Then did the same with his left foot and this wracked Leonard with almost electric tickle sensations.


    "Yeah that's it Leonard don't hold back, laugh because you're ticklish. It tickles doesn't it? Your feet are very ticklish aren't they Leonard!"


    I placed my fingers into the gaps in between Leonard's toes, making tiny scratching motions as I did so. As he kept bucking and screaming and shouting with laughter, I let my fingers start the agonisingly slow descent down the soles of his tortured feet to his heels. Once I reached the heels, I turned my palms up to his soles and began making more soft n' scratchy movements around the heels. I then began the small circular tickles just under the balls of his feet and the quick scratchy tickles with my nails at the base of his toes, the feather strokes as I tickled the tops of his feet. I knew his feet so well and he was being tickled into insanity as I reminded him how in 2004 I'd got to grips with them for the first time and loved seeing his toes wiggled and his feet squirm as I'd controlled them!


    "You will endure more, lots more tonight Leonard before I have what I want from you and these hot, sweaty feet!"


    I slowed my tickling, touching both feet with my hands and the tickling slowed to a gentle stroke.

    "You wanted relief? Leonard so how is this? Does this still tickle?

    "Hehehehehehe..he haha...yeah, yeah it does..but huhuhuhu it's not as bad but..it..hehehehe stil tickles hahhaha!"
    i i..i..i hehehee.."

    "You like it Leonard?

    "NO! NO! I don't like it! I want you to stop hehehe"

    "Yes you do Leonard yes you do! You DO like it! Your tenting in your boxers so time to tongue bath these sweaty feet again and remember 2004, remember how you got so excited and were a dirty boy turning on to one of your brother's friends and needed to be punished so let's see how this feels as I’m going to make you like it more and then really punish you Leonard!"

    I pulled down his boxers and admired his erect 7" dick and caressed his balls as he cursed me and then licked his dick making it throb but then having excited him went to his feet and gobbled on his toes as if they were his dick, then returned to teasing his dick orally and stroking and licking his balls but again then licking the soles of his feet and back to his dick until I jerked him off and rewarded with more pre-cum, Leonard shot a powerful load and was consequently so much more ticklish. He went crazy as I orally and manually worked over both his feet from heels to toes and eventually so after a good few hours released the tickled out wreck and then I hit him with the fact I knew he was engaged in a sexual relationship with an underage girl who was my niece and he then easily bribed into meeting me again and again unless he wanted to be arrested so a year later is my tickle-toy!
    Last edited by Autolycus; February 4th, 2013 at 07:29 AM.

  2. #2

    Con's Delight!

    The cons had staged the riot in the penitentionary and whilst the mayhem took place outside the cell the sadistic
    prison officer Dean Harlin was facing his own personal hell at the hands of four cons who having suffered at his
    hands or from orders given by him had one thing on their mind; revenge but were not intent on hurting the fit and
    handsome 6'2" 27 yr old officer not wanting to leave any marks on him and whilst stripping and binding him to the
    cell bed having discovered him being horribly ticklish; he could only shake his head numb with fear wondering what
    in his boxer shorts the four cons intended on doing.

    Vicente stared at the huge bare feet in front of him as Ben read the sole of the boots being size 13! Vincente
    winked at the prison officer as he sniffed both secured feet remarking how he liked their masculine stink as Ken
    had opened Officer Harlin's wallet and removed the photo of his wife Angela and made comments as to whether she
    appreciated the smells of her sweaty man as he sniffed at Dean Harlin's pits as Vincente deeply inhaled Harlin's
    foot-stink and was amazed and pleased to find how soft and supple they were and liked how the officer fliched as
    he felt them up liking their moist feel. The other two cons Pete and Lyle watched smiling and winking at their
    prisoner as they reminded him he was horribly ticklish and encouraged Vincente to prove it and he from massaging
    both huge feet made his touch lighter until he was gently stroking up n' down both soles facing him. The reaction
    was instant.


    Vincente grinned at the giggling officer and reversed the action, dragging his fingers up the two bare soles.


    There was a pause. Harlin strained against his restraints but with no effect. He waited but no tickles came as he
    cursed the cons who then attacked. Vincente scribbling circles with the tips of his nails up and down the soles of
    the officer's feet, Ben stroking his armpits, Pete pinching his nipples and Lyle stroking his inner thighs and then
    sneaking fingers up his boxer short legs stroking his balls! The tickling was intense beyond words and Harlin
    thrashed and screamed against the torture.


    "Officer Harlin suffer" Vincente snapped as he ran his fingers around his toes and probed under and in between them
    all scratching at the soft padded balls of his toes before tickling along his soles creating an itching sensation
    that sent Harlin over the edge. Vincente pursed his lips and blew a solid stream of breath against the soles of his
    feet, alternating left and right

    "How does this feel eh Harlin, fuck you got nice feet, real sweaty and so fuckin' sensitive, Gotta taste 'em too!"


    Harlin was going crazy as Lyle's gentle touches coupled with Pete's pinching of his nipples had caused him to boast
    an involuntary erection as Ben had started licking his sweating armpits but the torment to his feet was hellish as
    Vincente was drawing his fingers from the toes into the centre of them both and then lightly tickling the tops of
    Harlin's feet and well secured both vulnerable to his every ticklish assault!


    Vicente kept changing his technique with no pattern or length of time and no amount of predictability would have
    taken the edge of the intense ticklish sensations. His oral assault of both feet kept Harlin's feet lubricated as he
    thrashed and screamed for mercy. The riot in the block meant his yells could not be heard as Vincente drew patterns
    with his fingers on the soles of Officer Dean Harlin's bound feet. The result he howled with laughter!

    "Hahahahahahahahahahahahastop the TI-I-I-I-I-ICKLI-ihihihihihihihihihihih-ng

    Pete and Ben both worked their fingers at his stomach, his pits and at his ribs, tickling him into a stupor. Then
    as Lyle having pulled down the officer's boxer shorts was stroking his shaft and caressing his balls, Vincente
    had his fingers on the officer's right foot, dancing patterns being made on his sole and stroking the gaps seen in
    between his toes while he was slavering over his left foot, running his tongue up his sole, softly nibbling on his
    heel and ball of his foot, and rubbing both his thumbs into the sole of his foot so both feet tortured expertly.

    "MMMMMMMMM is this tasty foot ticklish? Can we make this tickly foot scream Harlin?" teased Vincente

    He shoved his face into the huge right foot, softly dragging the round teeth into his foot, down his heel and
    began sucking noisily on his bound toes, stopping to whip his tongue back up the length of this foot before
    returning to tickling clumsily with his thumbs. In the meantime he was drawing lazy lines up and down Harlin's left
    foot. The combination of the styles was breaking Harlin again and again


    Vincente shook his head. "No for me this is the best but for you this is the worst!"

    Both Pete and Ben attacked Harlin, Pete tickling on his stomach and ribs and Ben tickling both his armpits as his
    feet were savoured by Vincente! Dean Harlin Laughed like he never thought was possible, gulping lungfuls of air and expelling it
    just as quickly in screams, begging, roaring and laughter. All his torturers began to tease him:

    " I Know it tickles, Harlin, it tickles so badly. Say it, say it!" said Ben

    "Laugh for me, tik-uh-lish man, laugh for Pete. Pete aint gonna stop tik-uh-lin' you. Laugh! Are you tik-ul-ish on
    your ribs? are you tik-ul-ish in your pits ? Tik-ul, tik-ul, tik-ul!"

    "I'm going to have your feet in my hands, in my control, yeah You're feet will be my playthings Harlin, both these
    deliciousLY ticklish feet taste good! I want to hear you yell, scream and beg. ticklish! ticklish! ticklish!

    Officer Dean Harlin could no longer hold it. He could no longer resist from bellowing out in hysteria!


    All of his torturers stopped with the exception of Vincente who clasped both his feet and began licking softly but
    encouraged Lyle to jerk the officer off which Lyle began doing and though he fought against reacting, likewise now
    as Ben licked his nipples and Pete joined Vincente and both of them licked a foot each and sucked on his toes with
    such sensual touches, he had no chance and albeit involuntarily soon shot a powerful load to immediate applause!

    "You broke so quickly Officer Harlin and you are going to be so torturously ticklish now having shot a load!" said
    Vincente smiling as he looked at Pete who was lightly stroking the officer's left foot making his toes wiggle.
    All the cons eyed their helpless and vulnerable prey with wicked intent.

    All of them then began tongue bathing him with Vincente working on both Officer Harlin's feet as Pete returned to
    licking both his armpits and Ben licking his stomach including poking his tongue in the prison officer's belly
    button and Lyle having wiped the cum from his dick licking the head and along the shaft, these assaults driving the
    prison officer crazy and to involuntarily moaning as every erogenous zone was being explored with Lyle even running
    a hand under him and having licked his finger stroking the officer's hole. As he squirmed verbally protesting while
    Ben licked and nibbled his nipples and Vincente licked his toes. Pete and Vincente deeply inhaled Harlin's feet!

    Lyle soon began to rub and massage the officer's dick, he rubbed it up and down while Ben buried his face into the
    officer's groin, tickling his balls and licking at them with quick firm licks as against his will again the officer
    being molested so expertly was getting hard. Lyle slowly maturbating him lightly tickled and massaged the head of
    his dick with deliberate strokes telling him how he was enjoying handling no doubt Angela's joy and delight making
    the officer really curse him. Vincente smiled telling Officer Dean Harlin that laughter was better than anger and
    while the others provided him with powerfully intense sensations teasing at his nipples and stroking and teasing his
    sticky erection he began to caress both his feet. Harlin shuddered and tried to pull away.


    "Relax, Harlin I'm not here to tickle your feet but to pleasure them but it's your fault that the soles of your
    feet are so deliciously ticklish as they will become powerfully erogenous given the right stimulation from me which
    I intend giving them as they're very addictive!" taunted Vincente

    Vincente then began the massage, pressing into the soles of Harlin's feet, rubbing and kneeding the soft skin and
    being close enough to deeply inhale them as the other cons began to gently caress the prison officer under his knees
    soft tickles against his neck and ears, further teasing hands on his nipples and balls. He arched his back and let
    out another moan as the pressure and speed at which Lyle was masturbating him increased and his feather-like tongue
    licked at the rhythmically exposed head of his dick as his foreskin bobbed back and forth over it.

    "Uuugh...no......no.....oh fuck....this this is wrong...... stop this...Uuugh--Ooh... perversion"

    "No Harlin" Vicente said "You will lie there and enjoy it."

    Lyle further increased his grip and strokes on Harlin's dick and his balls

    "Uuuugh - no.......no...PLease..oooh....you....uugh...won't. ..get...me ...to....."

    "Come now, Harlin, let the pleasure take you. Give into it! How long has it been since you've had a release by a guy
    and can compare it to Angela huh? Lyle be a little more persuasive!" coaxed Vincente

    Lyle gave more attention to the head and mercilessly began to polish it gently back and forth but letting the speed
    steadily increase

    "OOOooooh" Harlin threw his head back in ecstasy uuugh but.....I...I...wont give you what you want!" Harlin began
    to focus his mind on other things, far far away from the intense sexual pleasure building to explosion in his groin.

    "OH YES YOU WILL! YOU WILL OBEY ME HARLIN!!" Vicente snarled! "You will give me what I want or you will be made
    to scream!" Saying this Vincente began tickling Harlin's feet unbearably and instead of Lyle using his fingers to
    jerk the officer's dick, he was running a feather across his dick and balls, Ben running another under him so
    teasing his hole and Pete using one along his inner thighs and in his armpits. His feet soon became a playground for
    Vincente and his feather, he was now merciless, he stroked the tops of his ankles, tickled the tops of his bare feet
    and tormented all his toes under and in between them and along both soles but also nibbled, licked and sucked them
    telling Harlin that he was guilty of foot-rape! Officer Dean Harlin had never ever experienced a tickling like it!
    It was unbearable, excruciating, menacing and torturous . It redefined the word ticklishness in the dictionary!


    Then the insidious tickling stopped leaving Officer Harlin quite literally panting for breath.

    "I'm glad you've seen sense Harlin, it's terrible you're so horribly ticklish and we in your words are such bastards
    but those are the facts but perhaps there's a part of you that enjoys being punished as I see despite the torture
    that your dick has stayed hard, maybe we need to change our tactics and focus on these feet and your dick!" teased

    Gulping in panic a Harlin yelled from the bed "NO!! NO!

    Ignoring him Vincente said "Drain him! I want every last drop of spunk taken from him until he can shoot no more.
    Pleasure his soles and his groin until he becomes mute from moans of pleasure!"

    Lyle and Ben grabbed a foot each and began enthusiastically licking and softly tickling at his soles with long,
    steady strokes of their finger tips from the crooks of his toes down to the heels of his feet. The tickling was
    gentle enough but still giggles bubbled up from Harlin's stomach. The licking was deep and firm and sent tingles of
    pleasure coursing up his body. Pete straddled him and beamed with glee. He grabbed Harlin's erect dick firmly and
    engulfed it in his mouth. Then he began to bob and suck on the thick pole, steadily masturbating at the root while
    running his tongue back and forth over the back of the head and along the hardened shaft. The soft tickling and
    worship at his feet and the powerful sucking at his dick sent Officer Harlin's head into a ball of pleasure. He
    could do nothing but gasp and moan and writhe on the bed as outside the riot continued.

    "Yes Harlin!" Vincente whispered "You're close now......give in to the pleasure.....let yourself go Harlin, think
    of Angela opening her legs and you busy licking her pussy, savouring her juices!" taunted Vincente

    The licking tongues pushed into Harlin's toes and Ben and Lyle at his feet sucked and nibbled at them and at the
    meaty pads of the balls of his feet while their greedy tongues lapped at the tops of his feet, their fingers softly
    tickling the lower part of his soles, tickling gentle circles around the heels.

    "Oooohh ah ahahahahaha oh yes....yes....I can't hold it.....it's oh ahahahaha so good it ahaha ahaaha ughhh feels
    so good....oooooh oh please, please dont stop..I'm gonna.....I'm gonna.... so close ahahahahaha"

    Pete at his dick changed his oral attack and began to suck more insistently at the top of his dick forming a perfect
    fleshy grip of suction and pressure around the head. He squeezed his hand around the officer's shaft rubbing up and
    down on the veiny expanse between the base and his own wet lips, tickling and cupping at the heavy balls below. He
    bobbed and rotated and expertly sucked at Harlin until..

    "Uuuuugh.....ohhhh ahahahahaha ahaha thats it! I'm gonna....I'm gonna uhhh uggghh ugghhhhh OHHHHHH UUUUUGHHHHH OOOOH

    The bound officer bucked and arched and pumped stream after stream of hot semen into the greedy mouth of Pete and
    Harlin clenched his toes as Lyle and Ben worked hard to continue sucking and pressing their tongues into the flexing

    "UUUUUGH UUUUGH UUUGHHHH..........ooooooh...oh.."

    Harlin went limp on the bed, panting and light-headed with pleasure. He giggled steadily as Ben and Lyle still gave
    light and soft tickles along the soles of his feet but in another ten minutes Vincente took their place at both feet
    and told the guy's they'd had their fun but he wanted his and telling Officer Harlin that having shot his load so
    powerfully that his feet were really going to be so ticklish, helplessly ticklish and he was just going to tickle
    the fuck out of his feet until he was bored and soon enough Officer Harlin was hideously suffering again as he did
    until later the riot ended but having against regulations entered a cell alone and when a riot was taking place and
    abandoning his colleagues in a time of crisis, Harlin couldn't report all that had happened to him to his superiors!

    “Nohohohohoho hehehehehe pleheheheheheheeeeasssse! Hahahaahahahaahaha please hahahaahahahaha no haaahahahaha!”

  3. #3

    Middle Eastern Delight!

    A cruel smile was pulling at the corners of his captor’s mouth so hard now, that he threatened to break into an evil grin at any moment and Syrian agent Fahmi couldn’t help noticing for the first time as his blindfold was now removed that the Israeli man had a set of sharpened nails on each hand; each one filed to a point!

    The man returned to the cell having an hour earlier whispered to handsome 6' Fahmi al- Khahid in the interrogation room and having been stripped to his briefs and socks and secured in the stocks; that he was an expert interrogator who enjoyed exploiting the weaknesses of his victims to get results and that intelligence had gained information on the 26 yr old Syrian agent that his weakness was his size 12 feet being apparently very sensitive and given him time to contemplate what might happen to him if he did not volunteer the information he was being requested to give. Fahmi refused to talk!

    "Agent Fahmi you have had time to think but it seems you choose to be stubborn and as very frustrated as I am by your refusal to talk, I am also gratified that you invite me therefore to indulge in torturing you which is something I assure you that will give me great pleasure to do. These stocks will hold you for as long as I wish, there’s really no escape and I’m simply going to tickle your soles, ever so slowly and ever so gently until you talk. That’s all, tickle your soles until you talk!” he whispered letting his teasing tone convey the seriousness of Fahmi's situation!

    Fahmi slowed his breathing and readied himself for this torment, it’s only tickling! Fahmi only doubted for a moment before ridding himself of such thoughts. He felt a little more confidence returning after all it was only tickling. Things could be so much worse!

    The man giggled into Fahmi's ear, “I watched you when I was whispering in your ear just now.....I’ve never seen anyone squirm so much so I think somebody happens to be very sensitive!” Uri the interrogator said as he stood at the end of the custom made interrogation table with stocks and stared at Fahmi's size 12 feet still in the black thin nylon socks and verbally taunted him as part of his expert technique preying on the agent's weakness.

    “Such large feet and I hear horribly ticklish feet and I’m going to enjoy finding out just how ticklish!!” and it was clear to Fahmi that Uri was feeding off the teasing energy and he knew that he was biting on his lips but it was just a natural, instantaneous reaction, uncontrollable but one not missed by Uri.

    “Have you ever had your socked soles teased and tickled before Fahmi Hmmm? I can assure you it’s unbearable!”

    Uri smiled to himself; “Let’s just try with a single, tickling fingertip!”

    Uri menacingly winked at Fahmi as he sat on the stool he'd placed at the end of the table so he was facing both big feet and slowly his hand out of sight to Fahmi being hidden by the stocks but then, nothing! The longest pause of Fahmi's life.The tension was unbearable now and worse still, without realising it he had begun to scrunch his toes, trying desperately to protect his socked soles from being touched n'teased.

    Uri laughed again, confidence filling his voice; a cat toying with a mouse.“For a man who’s not ticklish at all, er you seem to be scrunching your toes a lot hmmm?” he teased the good looking Syrian “This wouldn’t happen to tickle would it?”

    Fahmi felt a single wiggling fingertip run ever so slowly up his right sole and his breath caught in his throat, he couldn’t believe the electricity that was passing through his soft, helpless sole and just how receptive to that touch it felt now as if someone had turned up his sensitivity.

    “Here I come again.....tickle...tickle...tickle!!” taunted Uri

    This time Fahmi felt a teasing fingertip slide gently, up each sole and without meaning to he wiggled his feet to escape the delicate, teasing touch that flooded his senses.

    “Oh Fahmi What very ticklish feet!” Uri grinned, “Nowhere to go, such a shame my ticklish spy cannot get away and I have all the time in the world and I am going to tickle and tickle these sensitive masculine soles. A very effective torture leaving no marks of having been used but a method I intend making sure you remember enduring!"

    Fahmi felt Uri's devilish fingernails lightly teasing up and down his sock covered soles once more sending more unbearably ticklish signals shooting through him.

    “What a tough guy you are!” teased Fahmi's tormentor “You’ve barely even flinched but then I’ve not even done anything yet! I can’t wait to hear that first giggle you know so here I come and do not worry that your feet smell as warm, sweaty feet are much more sensitive so preferable to me and these smell good too, a strong manly smell!" Uri taunted as he deeply inhaled both socked feet.

    Fahmi’s eyes flew open as Uri's two teasing, tickling fingers began to stroke and caress his sock covered soles teasing first up and then down his big feet again and again. when the teasing finally stopped, Fahmi was out of breath, having been holding his laughter in the entire time. He shook his head, it had barely even been a minute, he had to resist, he couldn’t give his torturer what he wanted, he couldn’t talk, he couldn't! talk.....couldn’t.....

    “Oh I’ve got you now Fahmi! All I want is to hear you laugh; that’s all! I’m going to tickle the soles of your feet until you laugh for me, come on now a little laugh, make my day, such sensitive, rich smelling feet to enjoy!”

    Fahmi wished the man would stop teasing him, the anticipation was killing him. He couldn’t think, he couldn't focus and, and nooooooo!

    There it was. A single fingernail on one hand had begun to lazily trace the outside of his left foot, teasing his arch. Fahmi flinched and wiggled his feet at this devastating new contact, as the thin nylon sock amplified that dreadful, unbearable feather light touch that tormented his sole as his breath caught in his throat again.

    Uri again noting this immediate reaction verbally taunting

    “Oh I think somebody is ready to have a little giggle! I think I’m going to have to tickle and tickle these sweaty feet until I hear a giggle! Come on now Fahmi; I know this tickles!”

    Fahmi was trembling slightly now, all his thoughts of escape were leaving his mind now to be replaced with just a single thought and that of the unbearable, tickly finger that was gently stroking and teasing and caressing his trapped, sensitive left foot. Fahmi could think of nothing more than that tiny point tracing up and down his foot now. He had to be strong; he had to be.....

    “Oh someone is very ticklish jussst here......” teased Uri

    The tickling finger began to move from the outside of Fahmi's wiggling left foot, to the very middle of his sole, where it slowly and sensuously began to draw tiny, unbearably ticklish circles around and around. Fahmi began to shake his head from side to side now, trying desperately to resist the sensation that tingled and teased at his big socked sole as he’d given up trying to show that it didn’t tickle him. His left foot was wiggling and flexing as much as the stocks would allow! Toes scrunching, desperate to reduce the amount of ticklish sole on view to that awful tickling fingertip!

    “Oh I think someone is going to laugh for me! I’m going to tickle your big feet until you do! There’s no escaping it happening! No getting free! I’ve got your feet, trapped and helpless and there’s nothing you can do to stop me so tell me are you ticklish here on your right foot too?” said Uri smiling at Fahmi. Smiling a teasing smile, as he tickled Fahmi’s right sole with one finger, he reached down with a teasing fingertip on his other hand and lightly, ever so lightly traced it under the wiggling toes on his right foot.

    Fahmi gasped at this new sensation and his eyes opened wider still as Uri encouraged by this did it again. What then happened to Fahmi’s horror, he had no control over.

    “NO! NOT THERE!” yelled Fahmi losing his resolve dramatically and suddenly even surprising Uri with his outburst!

    Uri facing Fahmi with the smile of a predator who knows he’s caught his prey and is simply toying with it now as his victim Fahmi dipped his eyes feeling ashamed and embarrassed knowing he had in that momentary weakness given his captor everything he had been wanting n' needing to know about the reality of his Syrian victim's mega-ticklishness!

    “Not where Agent Fahmi?” Uri teased, knowing full well.

    “Not right here?” and he punctuated each word with a well timed tickle underneath the Syrian’s wiggling toes which which were now scrunched so tightly, desperate to escape that teasing touch Fahmi struggled and whipped his head back and forth, trying desperately to maintain his composure and defy this agonisingly ticklish sensation.

    “I think and correct me if I’m wrong, I think someone has incredibly ticklish toes!! I’m going to enjoy seeing if I am right and of course if so to tickle your toes and there’s no getting away, no you sadly can’t get them free!!”

    Fahmi was cursing himself for letting the Israeli sadist get to him and wasn’t concentrating when he felt the ends of his socks being grasped and pulled away from his toes. He was just about to ask what was happening when he heard a snipping sound as the material was slowly cut away and then rolled backwards, exposing his bare feet to cool air.

    He was so surprised that he simply didn’t think to resist as he felt the loop of slender string pass around his big toes and pull tight. Uri had reached down and was deftly tying Fahmi's big toes to the eyelets on top of the stocks. Fahmi struggled but was simply too late to avoid or in any manner struggle agaisnt this new addition to his helpless situation which trapped him so successfully and his toes were exposed and exceedingly vulnerable now and try as he did, he unable to scrunch them up, perfect targets for Uri to relish assaulting!

    “Mmmm such delicious helpless toes!” teased Uri leaning into them sniffing them, yes I love the smell of a man's toes and most especially a ticklish man's, infact smelly, warm bare feet like yours Fahmi, so sensitive, yes so very ticklish give me such pleasure and now I’ve got you, I need to tickle your toes!"

    Agent Fahmi tried to brace himself for the attack, desperate to resist this crazy man’s teasing and determined to maintain his composure, fully intent to show that a little tickling couldn’t..

    The lucidity of this thought was robbed from him suddenly without warning! Uri ever so gently stroking the naked stems of both Fahmi's feet up and down, he sat comfortably on the stool and flicked and teased at the sensitive bare toes in front of him with glee. Sensing his moment now, not letting up for an instant, just tickling and tickling and tickling the helpless, immobile, sensitive toes on offer to his skilled fingers loving seeing the reactions!

    Fahmi shook his head left, right, left again, he spluttered and without realising, a tiny giggling sound was heard at the edges of his breathing now. Fahmi’s tormentor had heard it though and concentrated on tickling his bare toes with each of his fingers drawing tiny little circles, teasing under Fahmi's unbearably sensitive soft ticklish toes.....

    Fahmi shook his head wildly now,......”No....no....don’t.....don’t!........”

    “Don’t do what?” teased Uri loudly, his fingers continuing their merciless ticklish dance on Fahmi’s helplessly captive toes while sniffing them and remarking how proud he should be having such awesome smelling toes and mocking him saying he was sure other people would have found his toes smelling good before he had. Uri knew he was breaking the tough resolve of the Syrian agent to his delight. He loved to see them resist and conquer their resistance, this being what made his job in the Israeli Intelligence Unit Department so worthwhile; they all resisted and this one was proving strong but he sensed not for much longer and had a trick up his sleeve to psychologically demolish him!

    "Somebody has very ticklish toes! I’ve got you and Mmmm such masculine toes and all mine to enjoy and I have no want to stop tickling all these toes in front of me, I am paid to tickle a ticklish guy in his most torturously ticklish place, his toes and Fahmi I am going to tickle all over your toes under and in between them until you talk to me!"

    It was a knowing, torturous tease, formed by years of practice and dropped in at the perfect moment, the concept of that touch, that agonising touch carrying on for one moment longer,let alone all night long, that awful sensation running up and down Fahmi's helpless, naked toes that now played on his mind as well as physically tormented him.

    “Nohohohohoho hehehehehe pleheheheheheheeeeasssse! Hahahaahahahaahaha... Please... Hahahaahahahaha... No! Haaahahahahahaa... hahhaahaaaaaaaaa!!!”

    The tall and fit handsome agent couldn't hold out anymore! His laughter was wild and unending and he begged without realising it fully and pleaded for the dreadful tickling of his helplessly ticklish toes to end but he knew he was in trouble now! Right now his torturer had him and that was that, Fahmi was at his weakest point. Uri calmly sat at both big n' sweaty feet smiling at Fahmi as he sniffed at them lost in his enjoyment of toe teasing and his smile broadening hearing Fahmi's pleadings through his laughter, his now hysterical laughter from someone truly ticklish as he wriggled and squirmed in his bonds hot n' sweating, thrashing around helplessly unable to escape the merciless torment if the caressing and teasing of his bare feet now toes to heels!

    “Are you ready to talk yet Fahmi?” Uri teased as the minutes flew by and yet each time Fahmi would shake his head no but the reality was, through such loud and constant laughter, it was questionable whether he always actually heard the question being asked! Uri had soon slowed his tickling pace to using a single finger trailing under Fahmi's toes to torment him which even this did successfully!

    “Well Fahmi it seems somebody is a little ticklish after all hmmmm?” said Uri winking at the Syrian agent Fahmi tried to answer but after hours of terrible toe tickling, he was weak and helplessly giggly now that single finger tickling sensually and teasingly beneath his toes was slowly unravelling his ability to concentrate

    “Are you even listening to me?” Uri mocked annoyance as this previously confident Spy was dissolving into fits of giggles as his toes were lightly tickled....

    “Pleheheheheheease just a....hehehehehe.....just stop a moment.....heheehehe....” Fahmi begged

    “Oh I don’t think so! In fact I think I’ve barely even started. I still have these helpless soles facing me and now warm and bare as I prefer feet to be and I can’t help but feel they’ll be very, very ticklish indeed! what do you think Fahmi? Care to talk hmmmm?” A huge grin was plastered across the interrogator’s face now and it was clear he was enjoying himself and even more apparent that he had done this before.....

    Fahmi was resiliant and felt angry and sickened his feet were being enjoyed by another man and he steadied himself, quietened his giggles fully for the first time in over 2 hours and spoke shakily but with feeling.

    “Go to.....Go to HELL you bastard!” he rebelliously shouted

    The interrogator laughed at this, ”I had a feeling you’d say that but you know something, I’d rather send you there!”

    Uri then held his fingers above the stocks as high as he could and began to tickle mid air.

    “I’m going to tickle your sweaty bare soles and there’s nothing you can do about it!! Can’t get away, can’t escape from me and my tickling, I’m going to tickle and tickle and tickle the soles of your sensitive, bare feet and so enjoy this Agent Fahmi, a handsome man with such sexy and exciting feet!"

    Uri wanting to make Fahmi feel even more uncomfortable had deliberately told him that his bare feet excited him and with that said began to ever so slowly lower his tickling fingers, an inch at a time, teasing the moment.

    The anticipation drove Fahmi wild, he bucked and pleaded and writhed on the table, pulling at the bonds as the truth was after more than two hours of ticklish torture, his feet were even more sensitive if that was at all possible and he simply couldn’t stand the thought of having them touched again!

    “Oooooo no getting away, such smelly feet, so warm, so sensual and so sensitive but Fahmi you are such a very good looking man you had to have such masculine handsome feet, a good size and shape, arch just high enough, all toes well shaped and in proportion with each other and Mmmm feet that smell like feet plus as the greatest bonus of all being so fucking ticklish all over them so a real pleasure to take time teasing, tormenting, tickling and tasting!"

    Smiling to himself Uri lowered his head and slowly and sensuously began to snake his hot tongue in and out, teasing between the helpless Syrian agent's sweaty toes’ seeing Fahmi's eyes open extra wide and he opening his mouth but no sound emerging as he wriggled and squirmed on the table drawing enormous breaths at the sensation and the sick realisation that his feet were being orally enjoyed by another man


    "I know you will Fahmi but here's the twist, only you and me here so no witnesses and these feet taste and smell so delicious, they're mine to enjoy but you will talk as one all night session with me is not something you will want to repeat and of course there will be no physical marks but you will never forget the sensations of your toes in a man's mouth, a tongue licking under and in between all your toes and along your sweaty soles this I do guarantee!"

    Fahmi pleaded, he begged, he shook his head no. Uri watched with great pleasure and lowered his hands until they were almost touching both licklish bared feet so feeling all the more vulnerable.

    “NO!!! YOU CAN’T!!! PLEASE!!! NO......NOOOO!” begged the Syrian agent

    “Oh but I can Fahmi and I’m going to! There’s no getting free now!”

    Interrogator Uri's fingers slowly made contact and began to ever so gently trace and caress the soles of Fahmi's immobile bare feet, Fahmi howled and broke into helpless sobbing laughter that rose from the pit of his stomach, deep belly laughs were wrenched from his lips as the Israeli man tickled and tickled and tickled the helpless soles in front of him, Fahmi could barely wiggle a toe and his ankles were trapped. This soft, delicate torment was driving him mad, leaving him sobbing and breathless using ever such light touches and teasing caresses and an evil tongue!

    Fahmi continued laughing for some minutes afterwards, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe he could laugh so much, could feel so very helpless, so very dominated by this man who clearly was an experienced serial foot-freak Fahmi knew, he was certain that sooner rather than later he would break and tell the interrogator everything and he hung his head at this thought but there was no resistance eventually especially if he kept the oral teasing going as this really sickened the Arab agent. He wasn't going to give in without a fight though.

    “I can honestly say Fahmi these feet of yours are handsome, a little hair on each toe just the top, so masculine and from here without needing to rub my face or press my nose to them, sensing their masculine aroma, great lines on these soft soles and so deliciously tasty and ticklish; yes two of the best feet I’ve ever had the pleasure of torturing Which is why as I have seen how ticklish these toes are, I thought maybe you’d feel a little like sharing them with me if I were to tickle in between them. What do you have to say about this idea of mine Agent Fahmi Hmmm?”

    The Arab agent looked at his interrogator with a sense of dread as he saw that in his hands and winking at him Uri held two small brushes and happily told Fahmi how unbearably ticklish they were and then very slowly and very gently he teased the spaces in between Fahmi's toes, caressing, teasing sweeps in the most agonisingly sensitive spots on Fahmi's feet. It’s fair to say Fahmi howled with laughter, he shrieked and rolled and thrust himself on the table in ticklish hysterics as he begged and pleaded for the torture to stop in between his helpless, endless tickle tortured laughter encouraging Uri smiling to continue the gentle, devilish, merciless tickling torment of the handsome Arab agent.

    In truth he had never seen anyone quite so ticklish between their toes, so helpless with laughter! Fahmi babbled and begged as Uri deliberately gave him breaks to catch his breath and he the opportunity to just stare at the feetthat fascinated and he'd become addicted to, their look, their smell and their taste. Fahmi biting his lips as Uriwould just suddenly suck and nibble his toes which didn't tickle as much as it angered and disgusted the agent who cursed Uri when he did this. Uri in response telling Fahmi that it was his fault as he had such smelly, suckable toes.

    “I know you are ready to talk Fahmi but these toes taste so good, I'm going to keep on popping each toe in my mouth and suck on it and lick all over your feet, just lick you into submission and treat you to another hour with me tickling your feet!"

    “Nonononononono please stop....please!! Just wait.....you have to stop!!!”

    The interrogator smiled, amused at this demand...

    “I have to do nothing Fahmi, I can do what I like”

    Saying this Uri began to tickle with agonising touches in between the toes of Fahmi’s left foot with a single wiggling fingertip and at the same time, the fingers of his other hand hovered over the Arab agent's right sole, wiggling and tickling again and again. Fahmi was squirming as far as his bonds would allow and shook the frame as he shrieked and pleaded and helpless laughter poured out of him as his feet were tortured and teased. Uri smiled as he knew it was always this way near the end, just desperate laughter as his victim would do and promise anything to make the torment stop but needed a push.

    "Right Fahmi now spill tell me what I want to know or more of this for you, Mmmm such delicious sweaty toes, just a long lick of them, you might even soon find you enjoy it, the feel of my long wet tongue all over these raunchy, ripe feet so tell me Fahmi ... remember anytime these feet have been played with, don't talk, more licks n'tickles"

    Though Fahmi agreed to talk, the tickling didn’t stop right away as Uri was determined to enjoy the licklish Arab and made sure each of Fahmi's feet received a thorough tongue tickling! He now really showed Fahmi how exprienced he was using his tongue but employed his fingers too and severely weakened now, Fahmi really reacted to the tickling hell!

    "Hahahahahahahaha he he he he he he he he he he ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Hey! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! No Stop! Ha Ha Ha! What are you doing!Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!"

    "That's it Fahmi Mmmmmm such sweaty feet, such ticklish feet that just taste so hmmmmm my tongue so good at expertly extracting information from ticklish footed prisoners!"

    "Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Heh! Ha Ha Ha! Ha Ha Ha!Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!Ha Ha Ha Ha!"

    Fahmi's laughter increased as the interrogator licked and tickled all over his feet heels to toes, the crevices in between his toes deeply inhaling the aroma of each foot and making lewd comments of how he relished their masculine stink and the fact he knew that Fahmi had a reputation as a ladies man making enjoying his feet so enticing as he liked sucking toes more than sucking dicks and Fahmi's feet he was intent on sucking so he better start to remember when someone else had enjoyed and played with his feet, ready to tell the tale in detail but firs...

    "AHHHHHHHHHHH! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Ohhhhhhh Nohohohohohohohohohohoho! Stop it! Stop it!
    Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha! He He He He He Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!" screamed Fahmi as Uri nibbled his toes and ran his teeth along the soles of his feet "AHHHHH! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NO NO! NOT IN THERE!

    "Actually all this tickling time I've not eaten Fahmi so I need to get some refreshment and you need a break too but when I get back be ready to talk or trust me all you have suffered will be nothing compared to what you will endure so by example your feet, ticklish feet subjected to the torment of an electric toothbrush.

    "No No I tell you but I like not to remember it but I have no choice!"

    "That's right you don't Fahmi!" said Uri as he left the room.
    Last edited by Autolycus; January 21st, 2013 at 08:16 AM. Reason: Line spacing

  4. #4

    Ticklish Escort Lad!

    Jason was an accountant by day with a regular girlfriend and a promising future but greedy, for him money talked and at 22 yrs his handsome looks he knew got him attention and if the price was right he was game. On line he'd chatted to Alec who told him for £200 he wanted to dominate the 6' lad in a play interrogation scene but he assured Jason he would not be harmed and told Jason his kinks. Jason needed little convincing so drove over to Alec's place still in his suit worn all day. He'd arrived home, fallen asleep and waking in the early hours had intended to go to bed but gone on line and chatted to the 40 yr old Headmaster.

    ON arrival Alec was ready, attractive enough Jason supposed and they sat on the sofa and Jason after taking off his jacket and tie sat back, tucked his hands behind his head and propped his size 12 feet on Alec's lap. Alec immediately slipped Jason's black loafers off and began stroking his fingers up n' down Jason's soles. Jason's feet as he'd told Alec being ultra sensitive when they first came out of warm shoes and when they were lightly stroked in sheer dress socks like the black ones he was wearing and worn all day at the office.

    Determined to be tough, Jason resisted laughing and tried intensely to ignore the killer sensations as Alec continued stroking both feet in silence. By the constant uncontrollable flexing and writhing of Jason's soles he was giving away his sensitivity. Alec kept the stroking up until Jason being interrogated was in agony, still trying to be tough but having to stop now periodically to catch his breath, let out a little laugh and close his eyes trying to regain composure. Then Alec slid Jason's socks off and began dancing his fingers up and down both tender bare feet sending electrical shocks throughout Jason's body. Jason playing the agreed scene tried to ignore it but was quickly losing it. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore and yanked on his ankles to try to regain control. Alec held firm with his grip and stepped up the tickling attack forcing Jason to really yank hard, desperate to stop himself being tickled more.

    Alec had won the first round, and the right to place Jason at his mercy and he was a tease. First he had Jason stand in the middle of the room while Alec removed his shirt. He instructed him to place his hands on top of his head and not to remove them under any circumstance. Then he began rubbing his hands through the soft hair coating Jason's chest and stomach. Alec's rubs soon turned to strokes as Jason's torso became more and more sensitized to Alec's strokes. Then Alec stopped and removed Jason's suit trousers before continuing his slow, methodical exploration of his body, Alec's finger tips lightly grazing every inch of Jason's body as he twisted, jumped and closed his eyes trying hard not to think about the sensations driving him nuts! Jason was shocked at how intense the sensations were when Alec ever so lightly stroked his fingertips along the center of Jason's back. He never even knew he was ticklish there! It drove Jason crazy, forcing him to twist n' squirm as Alec played Jason's back like a cheap piano.

    He particularly enjoyed stroking his fingertips along Jason's swollen balls and ass. He insisted that Jason spread his legs wide to offer him ample access to these areas. Jason was hard in an instant and giggling from the ticklish sensations. Soon Alec removed Jason's underwear and really tormented his crotch and ass along with the rest of his body. Alec found it especially effective to stand behind Jason and lightly stroke his fingertips along his arms from his elbows down to his armpits and back up, eliciting gasps of air, giggles and twisting/flexing as Jason tried desperately to keep his arms in place, despite his intense desire to pull them down and protect his sensitive skin from further attack. Not surprisingly, he also delighted in giving Jason's unprotected rib cage a thorough inspection and massage which also drove him nuts! Jason had to keep thinking of the cash he was earning being so menacingly tortured all over his fit and sweaty body which clearly was a major hit with Alec.

    Ready to notch the action up to the next level Alec told Jason to go to the bedroom and he followed him there. He instructed Jason to lie down on the king-sized bed on his back. He quickly tied ropes to the four corner posts of the bed and attached thick leather straps around Jason's wrists and ankles. He pulled the ropes quite tight, stretching Jason's body out completely and leaving him totally out of control! He without any movement that would allow him to reduce his vulnerability and to add insult to injury, he slipped a leather blindfold around Jason's head so ignored his protests and Jason unable to stop him, soon his eyes were sealed tight. This left him with the sense of touch becoming even more acute!

    Then Jason was exposed to the true talent Alec possessed as a diabolical tickler! It was not a rough, aggressive tickling but a light, teasing, tormenting exploration of his body. Alec used tools but Jason couldn't even figure out from the touch alone what they were but all of them tickled like hell! (Alec later showed Jason the feathers and brushes he'd used.) No spot was safe and Alec quickly discovered every one of Jason's truly weak spots. He even discovered that his nipples were very sensitive and he played with them for what seemed like an eternity.

    Alec learned how sensitive Jason's neck and ears were, repeatedly teasing him there as well as Of course all the standard areas, his sides, armpits, stomach, thighs and of course his feet and Jason was thoroughly abused. Alec tormented Jason's dick, balls and ass repeatedly with feathers and lethal soft brushes until Jason was in anguish and then Alec would leave one area to focus his attention on tickling another. Jason's feet being his weakest spot, Alec really enjoyed using this against him time and time again attacking them remarking how much he loved big and sweaty feet anyway ticklish or not but a massive bonus if like Jason's they were!

    Alec used some thin bondage straps to tie Jason's two big toes together which then successfully prevented a lot of side to side twisting and squirming as they were found to be horribly licklish and loving their ripened taste! Then he lubricated Jason's soles with some sort of oil, pulled the straps attached to his toes towards his head so that it pulled his soles back and left them vulnerable. Then Alec ran the quill end of a feather along both lubricated bare soles, scraping up n' down them both. To scrape something sharp like that up and down dry soles can actually be painful for the victim, and doesn't work well as a tickling method but for Alec an experienced Tickle-Top, he able when the soles have been deliberately oiled up to glide the object effortlessly across the sensitive soles and under all of the toes! As he gleefully told Jason that he loved using this tickling tool, it's fucking killer! Jason trying to hold still as the scene played out as Directed by Alec so that the tool was replaced by Alec's fingers and he stroked up n' down the length of Jason's feet and Jason having no other alternative than to submit, yes surrender to his interrogator and submit to the torment Alec intended him to experience, to tickle the shit out of his feet, to see him thrash around violently, giggle like a demented hyena and endure his worst imagined nightmare and not be able to prevent it from happening to him so a session of incredible intensity from start to finish! Jason left a few hours later tickled out but £200 richer so concluded as torturous as it had been for him, it compensated financially!
    Last edited by Autolycus; January 21st, 2013 at 07:55 AM. Reason: TLC

  5. #5

    Teased and Tormented!

    Habib Mansour 26 yrs and Melik Oman 25 yrs were in the U.S. illegally and suspected of being involved in crimminal activity, it was my job to make them talk and I have my methods especially with two tall, dark and handsome Middle Eastern guys like them andwork alone and always get results! Middle Eastern men are so fucking repressed or naïve, but with some of the most beautiful bodies and dicks in the world. They are also constitutionally precluded from masturbation to ejaculation which is significant! I explained to both of them that this was a discreet investigation, and that my hope was that they could clear up some issues that our investigation had discovered in an informal dialog, avoiding a trip to our downtown offices in a squad car with handcuffs. They looked like deer in the headlights, their eyes wide with fear. They readily agreed that an informal discussion of whatever was troubling us would be better, and they were sure there was a mistake. I thanked them for their
    cooperation and gave them each a soda and began to review the two Libyan's files and within seconds both were knocked out and twenty minutes later woke each blndfold, stripped to briefs and socks and secured to the custom made chairs, each one had an
    attached a “T-Bar” to which their arms were now tied with soft, but strong rope. At the foot of the reclining chairs, I had installed sets of stirrups which allowed me to secure their feet apart by approximately three feet in width, just cupping the heels, and exposing the socked soles of each of their strong feet and wriggling toes. The angle of the inclination
    exposed their firm, muscled stomachs and moulded pectorals… but even more nicely splayed were their always slightly tumescent cocks, respective nut sacks, and hidden, hairy anal portals.

    I pulled up a stool next to Habib's chair as he tugged and pulled at the ropes and belts that bound him mumbling incoherently behind the ball gag that was fixed in place with straps around his head. I rolled my instrument table next to me as I sat, and began to speak to the Lebanese hunk.

    “You did not think we would be fooled by your lame attempts to blend into the community with these low key jobs as security officers. We’re on to you Habib, and for the next few hours you will be interrogated as if you were in Guantanamo. So your best play is to reveal the operatives in your group-cell, and the names of others who are working with you.” Habib flicked his toes and seemed to protest as his fingers scrabbled in the air, helplessly, over his head. His firm muscles rippled as his struggled to speak and insist on his innocence, and the sweat of fear began to appear at his temple, mixing with his deodorant under his arms, adding to the pungent ball sweat on his heavy, hanging nut sack.

    “Now nod your head if you are prepared to answer my questions truthfully.” Habib nodded his head frantically, and I smiled a cold, appreciative acknowledgement. “Good, that’s very good. Now nod in a similar manner if you are prepared to admit your participation in a local terrorist cell, and will provide me with names. If I could have seen behind his blindfold,
    Habib rolled his eyes, and then he tilted his head back in frustration tinged with desperation. How could he admit to something he knew nothing about… they would not believe him, and he would be in the same situation again. He hyper-ventilated and shook his head in a pathetic, pleading attempt to protest his innocence, still gurgling behind his gag.

    “I’m sorry, that answer will not suffice; we’re going to have to take this to the next level.” My hands were trembling with anticipation, as I reached down to the edge of Habib’s firm six-pack, and my fingers slid across his panting stomach.The sudden sensation made him lurch, as much as his bonds would allow, and his stomach went concave as if by hollowing
    his stomach he could somehow avoid my fingers. He could not. I crooked my index finger, and began to gently scratch the firm, rippled stomach muscles. Habib now bellowed into his gag, and his head shook back and forth as if to say “no” as emphatically as he could… but my fingernail was relentless, gently scratching across his abdominals and reaching his helplessly exposed navel cavity, where the profusion of soft black hair filled the cavern, and overflowed both towards his pecs and down to his briefs. For whatever reason, fear of his situation, or because he was spread out and physically vulnerable, Habib had gone half hard under his briefs. Now, as he reacted to my finger probing his unprotected navel, tickling the sensitive inny nub in the well, and the remainder of my fingers spreading across the plain of his stomach, his cock lurched into a unconscious stiffy. My burrowing finger only made that curved snake throb more, and soon a wet spot expanded from where the soft white cotton clung to his pulsing cock knob. I then reached with my other index finger, as I rooted in his flexing navel, to scratch my nail on my other index finger across the fat expanse of his leaking glans penis. I found the wide, sensitive flange and begin a gentle but determined scratch of the nerve-studded corona, avoiding the glans itself for the moment. Ah fuck what a site, as Habib drove his ass into the chair, pulling frantically at his bonds, babbling incoherently behind his gag in hopes of escaping this unexpected form of interrogation technique. Under his briefs his glans expanded from the irritating tickle, and his wide piss
    lips burbled out clear, sticky pre-fuck as his hips bucked to escape my unerring fingernail.

    “I am going to continue manipulating your body until you agree to give me the information I want… do you understand?” I intoned in a flat, almost bored voice which barely betrayed the pounding of my heart as I had this Lebanese slab of beef under my total control. His head continued to move back and forth as if to say “NO”, but in his panic, he did not realize that what he should be saying (if only to get me to stop), was “yes.” I moved my finger that was tickling deep in his navel, up until I reached his near nipple. Ah, the rigid cone had already spiked when my nail scratched across its turgid erectile tissue, Habib thrust his chest up and to the side to avoid the unexpected sensation. I would learn later that Habib could not stand even sucking on his nipples, much less pinching, tweaking, and twisting. Before today was over, they would get that treatment, and much more. I sucked my index finger and then, in conjunction with my thumb, I returned to the slightly bruised flesh where my nail had gently scratched. Now, my wet fingers twirled around the stub, pulling and tweaking as the lubrication sent new shooting sensations from Habib’s chest to his unruly boner. The boy was a pre-cum factory, and he was juicing like a cunt, his big boy clit still getting a good flange scratch from my determined index finger on my other hand, making the stiff prick flex from the deep tickle. This was the kind of teasing masturbation these boys needed—all highly sexual young men needed and Habib was going to be begging and babbling for me to help him ejaculate if I knew anything about milking helpless men.

    Hours later, when I had Habib on his hands and knees with his arms bound behind his back and his legs attached to a spreader bar, with a small anal prod with course, lubricated horse hair covering its knob gently sliding up and down his rectal passage, I was able to learn some vital information that had nothing to do with national security. It seems that Habib had been sent by his parents out of Beirut when he was a lad to stay with his Christian Uncle and his family in the Northern countryside. Unlike Habib’s family, his Uncle’s were not raised in the conservative, repressed culture of devout Muslims. Instead, both his cousins had gone to school with other Christian children, some of them European and American,
    living in Lebanon. Habib had been put in the room with his two older cousins, Aziz and Terik. Aziz was his age twenty and Terik a year older. Habib was assigned to sleep in bed with Aziz in the small house with only two bedrooms, one for the them and one for their parents. The first night Habib, had awoken to feel his nicely sized boner being gently stroked in Aziz’s fist. His fingers lubricated with a combination of Habib’s lube and Aziz’ spit, were twirling softly over and over the bloated glans. Habib's prick was lewdly sticking out of the fly of his pajama bottoms, thrust up caught by the roiling fist of his cousin who focused his fingers on the tender ticklish cock head. Involuntarily, Habib groaned from the delicious sensation as he emerged from his sleep, his prick straining towards the tickling fingers that were making him squirm against his cousin’s body. Aziz whispered into his ear in a firm, threatening tone, to be quiet. Habib was not accustomed to anyone’s touch on his erection and was not able to contain himself.

    Aziz pulled Habib's body over and on top of his own, using his legs to trap Habib’s legs. He quickly took a sock on the floor next to the low bed and thrust it in Habib’s mouth to muffle the grunting boy. Then the other hand to hold Habib's hands over his head and away from stopping the methodical masturbation of his helpless dick. Aziz continued his merciless milking. With a look of determination and lust, Aziz’ fingers continued to dance around the fevered prick tip of his cousin making him buck and stretch to escape the persistent, delicious frigging. Beneath Habib’s taut buttocks, clenching and grinding down from the overwhelming sensations on his cock knob, Aziz’s own 7” erection was sliding between the damp pajamas clinging to his cheeks, pushing the sweat moistened material of his pant bottoms up and against his anal slit, rubbing and prodding that sensitive portal, sending another tingling sensation through the shivering boy. The more Aziz masturbated his cousin, the more Habib’s grinding ass was masturbating hsi cousin's own dick, making it leak its own sticky lube, shooting sensations through him

    The noise of the two of them grappling in the one bed, woke Terik in the other and he crawled out of his bedding to come over to assist his brother with whom this game that had been going on for over two years. He took control of Habib’s arms, pulling them over Habib’s and Aziz’s heads from behind both boys. Terik’s own thin, sticky dick was thrust out of his baggy boxer shorts, rubbing over the face of his cousin as he sat behind them at the head of the bed. Now Aziz’s hands were free to roam uninhibited over Habib’s torso, one hand scratching over the boy’s already excited nipples creating feelings he had never experienced. The other hand now sped up its sticky assault on his fat, wet glans, his thumb scrubbing back and forth, driving Habib into gasping and grunting.

    “Aaaaawwwwww, no Aziz, please… stop… don’t rub me… what are you doing… aaahhh, noooooooo! he protested into the dirty sock gag. Aziz, fearful that his parents might hear his cousin’s entreaties, slapped his cousin hard enough to get his attention, quelling the loud groaning and pleading. Soon, the straining lad's prick begin to throb and pulse, as Habib thrust his hips up in the air uncontrollably and his cum burst upon him. For ten seconds, he felt he was going wild, his toes curling tight and his hips bouncing, while Aziz’s ruthless fingers twirled round and round his bloated boner, tantalizing the innocent lad “Aaaaaeeeeeiiiiiiii… aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh… aaaaaaaggghhhhhhhh!” Habib had yelled into
    the sock that effectively gagged him, and still his cousin thumbed the aching prick head, enjoying the instinctual response of the inexperienced lad, his cock flexing to accept more of the masturbating caress.

    After that night, for the next two weeks, Habib was the toy of his cousins, learning how sexual an animal he was, cowed by the older more worldly boys and their friends. His prick enjoyed constant cums, as his cousins and the other boys, took advantage of their younger visitor. For his part, in spite of his protests, Habib loved the sweet masturbation of his prick, amazed by the sensation created by the dancing fingers, and suddenly aware that sex was pleasurable. He knew it was wrong and even though he did not play with himself when he returned to Beirut, he knew that sex would make his penis throb with pleasure. He waited patiently for the next six years, hoping the time for him to marry would come sooner than later, and end his furtive frottage at night that had to stop just before his cock exploded in need and desperation. There were occasional wet dreams, and while wrestling with another lad he had ejaculated reflexively from the contact and rubbing of the bodies against one another. Still until he went to the United States and was freed from the constraints of his family’s strict observance, Habib had ached for sexual release like that he had experienced with his cousin years earlier. In America he no longer needed to masturbate because girls were more than willing to make love to his turgid cock. Now, he was about to return the days of his cousins’ humiliation of his handsome manhood, and the incredible sensations of his bulging prick head being masturbated ruthlessly into submission.

    I slipped on a glove that I had developed for myself, but could not stand to use when I masturbated. The index finger, fuck finger, and thumb were all covered in the same horse-hair bristles that were now driving the bound and gagged man nearly insane on the small anal prod secured in a sliding sleeve up his bung. The ticklish bristles now sliding back
    and forth in Habib’s rectum, gently scrubbing his walnut sized prostate, were wrenching the same groans and shouts into his gag that his cousins’ masturbation had evoked years before. Once my glove was was on my hand, I dipped the fingers into a bowl of lubricant, and reaching up under the bound man, I grasped his involuntary erection. I started by just
    grazing the shaft, sliding the firm bristles, softened by the lubricant, up and down the thick pole. With my other hand, I reached under and scratched his stiff teats, adding to the delicious sexual arousal experienced by the confused captive. What had this to do with terrorism… was this what was happening at Guantanamo in Cuba to the Muslim detainees?

    “You see Habib, we must be sure, we know what you are hiding… and as long as you continue to dissemble, I’m going to have to find ways to get you to confess.” These words slipped from mouth with easy detachment, while my fingers were busy doing their magic on the hunky body trussed next to me. My teasing fingers finger reached the corona and glans of Habib’s fat cock head and that’s when the squealing really began. I did not want to make his cock sore, so I dipped the finger-tips in more lubricant, and then just barely grazed the circumcision scar, the flange, and the glans of the helpless security guard. I watched as his toes alternated from clenching tight and flicking from the intense tickling, and his fingers scrabbled furtively but there was nothing he could do and nowhere to move his thrusting hips but into my merciless fingers. The slow pistoning of the small buzzing anal prod, coupled with the edging of his flexing glans by my slowing moving bristle covered finger-tips, made Habib a drooling madman. For one hour, I brought him desperately close, his wide piss lips opening to burp sap as if precursor to an imminent ejaculation. But I would stop, and whisper earnest comments about his need to cooperate, giving him enough respite to allow me to start again, thumbing his fat prick tip and gently scratching, pinching and tugging his sensitive nips.

    I would have loved to slip my tongue into his ears and lick them out, giving him one more sensation to deal with but I contented myself with an occasional scrabble of my fingernails across his gasping abdominals, or by reaching down to his feet hanging over the edge of the chair, my bristle covered finger scraping up and down his flexing, crinkling soles. By simply using these gentle, almost purely ticklish types of touches, I could make Habib’s prong, so unused to tactile manipulation, pulse and throb from the unusual but stimulating handlng. After an hour, with his prick desperate to squirt, I pulled the erection back between his legs and attached an automated, vibrating pussy that I had purchased and modified. Once a cock was inserted into the soft plastic sleeve, with its interior backed with an emulsion that allowed the plastic to move and mould to the cock that was intended to fuck it, the nozzle was tightened around the shaft at the preferred distance between root and corona. In this case, I latched it just behind the flange so that the overwrought cock knob was basted by the lubrication and soft plastic, but the vibrating and squeezing from the auto-suction, was constrained to the cock knob. As much as Habib wanted to cum, his shaft would not be stimulated, and at the angle his cock was being pulled back between his legs, he would remain hard but unable to spunk. Time for me to leave him with words of encouragement.

    “Habib… I truly regret that you have chosen to be so uncooperative. I had hoped that we could make this an easy conversation but unfortunately, you have not made that conversation possible. I am going to have to speak with your friend, Melik. I hope he is not as stubborn as you.” Habib did not turn his head toward me, he was too exhausted from his thrashing and efforts to avoid the milking he had been enduring, but he barely shook his head back and forth, his eyes closed and perspiration falling from his face, implying “no….no….” I switched on the cock pump as I walked out of the room, and smiled as I saw Habib’s toes curl one more time from the sweet sucking that was now pulling on his fat cock knob.

    Melik was in another room, unable to hear anything that had transpired. He had been awake for almost an hour, naked, and stretched out on his reclining chair. His smaller frame was tautly bound, with legs already spread and attached to the stirrups and his arms connected over his head. He had no blindfold, nor gag. I came in wearing wraparound dark glasses that obscured my face and a cold expression that would leave him nervous and wondering. I pulled up another chair, and another rolling table with my instruments and tools. Melik turned his head, and his eyes widened when he saw the table and its bizarre assortment of implements. “Your friend has failed to cooperate with us, and I must tell you that was a mistake. By implication, you are now associated with him as a suspect. If I do not get answers from you that make sense, I will be turning both of you over to federal authorities for detainment.”

    “What do you want… we are innocent. We are here lawfully, we immigrated, check our papers. What have we done?” His accent thickened with fear, and his eyes and expression told me I had him without even trying.

    “Papers are easily forged, but more importantly, we know that legal immigrants have joined in other countries like Britain, to form cells for terrorist activities. Just because you and Habib immigrated legally does not mean you are not conspiring to engage in actions detrimental to the government of the United States. Look at these pictures of you and Habib with white women in your apartment. It’s clear that you are interested in engaging in promiscuous sexual activity, what other lawless behavior are you both involved in?”

    Melik looked at the photos of himself and Habib, their thick prongs wet and glistening in the photos, lodged into the tight pussies of various snatch they had brought to their apartment to fuck. “How did they get these pictures…” Melik’s confused brain pondered, embarrassed and humiliated by the exposure of his private life before strangers---how many people had seen his prick reaming out pussy with wild abandon. As he stared mesmerized at the blown up pictures I had placed on a music stand, I switched on a television with a dvd player and he suddenly saw edited clips of he and Habib, performing in the same scenes on video that were captured in the still photos. As he watched, dumbfounded, I pulled out a head harness with a mouthpiece. I pinched his nostrils, and as he opened his mouth to object, I slipped the mouthpiece in and quickly buckled the harness. Melik’s eyes opened wide and he bellowed into the effective gag, fearful of what was to come, especially when I screwed into the female opening of the mouthpiece a male nozzle attached to a quarter-inch length of tubing. The tubing was connected to a water bottle hanging from a rolling stand, like ones you would see in the hospital providing liquids to patients in their rooms. Once I finished my preparations, I opened the flow of liquid from the bottle by loosening a clamp on the tubing, allowing a stream of tasteless clear liquid to flood the tubing and enter Melik’s mouth in a modulated drip that he could not stop but was slow enough to allow him to swallow without gagging. Then I spoke.

    “This liquid will help you do the right thing, if you are indeed innocent, Melik. The drug will encourage you to speak to truth.” As he listened, thinking I had given him some type of truth serum, I smiled inwardly because what I had given him was a kind of roofie combined with a drug that would make him completely susceptible to suggestion. In addidtin, I had spiced it with enough Viagra to ensure the unflagging cooperation of his thick, fat knobbed cock. I walked out of the room, looking at my watch, figuring it would take about fifteen minutes to take full effect. When I returned, I could smile openly since Melik’s eyes were shut, and he seemed to be panting softly. His six inch cudgel, almost too thick for my hand to fit around, curved wickedly up to his firm abdominals, and its wide, deep pisswell was overflowing with sticky, clear sap that left a pool on his stomach in and around his navel. Jesus, what a huge cock knob… a glans for the ages. No wonder the girls in Melik’s bedroom always purred and squealed when he fucked them, that knob could batter a clit into submission and would fill any womb and cervix snugly, touching every joy spot. oh it made sense why he would hiss and grunt when girls gave him head, slurping their small, tight mouths around his leaky glans, letting their tongues dance around his nerve studded corona and lashing his circumcision scar until he spat wads of thick spooge over their tongues and deep into their throats. Fuck, I wish I had been on the receiving end of each ejaculation I had caught on film over the past three months… but I would make up for lost time--that was for sure.

    “Tell me Melik, are you ready to provide me with the information I seek?”

    I almost could not understand his response, his accent was not only thick now, it was slurred by the action of the drugs. “What is it that you waaaannt… I don’t know anything… pleeeaase… pleaaassseee…” I let one hand rest on his chest, and my index finger began a gently scratch just beneath his mounded pec… and as I spoke, his nipple thrust its angry head out of the black halo of hair that circled the erectile nub as if to try and protect it.

    “I will need to ask you questions about your youth Melik, will you agree to answer me truthfully? Tell me that you will answer me truthfully.”

    The dazed man nodded his head, and said through his slurred voice, that he would answer me truthfully. Now we were cooking. He was surrendering to the power of suggestion, and whatever I wanted to know, and whatever I wanted to do, the weaker of the two young men would let me do. My creeping finger pushed through the protective forest of hair around his nipple, and with unerring precision, my nail reached the nubbin and began a to gently scratch the ticklish tit tip.

    “AAaahhhhhhh… nnnnnooooooo… whaaat are you doooing… ooohhh…” Melik crooned as his chest thrust up involuntarily, seeking more of the delicious attention for his whorish tit. The hard nubbin fairly throbbed from the sensations caused by my experienced fingernail, bringing a blush to the dark face, embarrassed by the reaction I had drawn from him. No masculine or upstanding Muslim man would admit to enjoying worldly pleasures of his body outside the secret confines of his wife’s bedroom. No matter the sins committed, there could be no public admission, and certainly no surrender to another man… an abomination.

    “Yes, that’s it Melik, now you’re being more cooperative. Just keep cooperating and you will be able to go home. Do you understand?” My index finger was joined by my thumb, and I grasped the stiff teat and twirled my fingers around it… plucking and tweaking. Melik nodded his head, without even opening his eyes, deep within the stupor caused by the drugs and willingness to do anything to go home but his nipple stayed firm and his chest continued to slightly thrust upwards to enjoy the masturbation of his tit flesh.

    The drugs were clearly doing their magic, and he was disoriented and confused at best, fully susceptible to whatever I would suggest. I leaned down and whispered into his ear: “Tell me Melik, when did you learn how to spit cum… to masturbate that big penis of yours, the one that got you into trouble with us….If you tell me how you got your lessons in ejaculation and masturbation, perhaps I can let you go.” My question would have been inane to a sensible man, but the drug cocktail, the bondage, the isolation and the sexual stimulation were all working to render Melik into my hands, and confuse him about what he needed to do to obtain his freedom.

    “Ooooooowwwwww… I cannot say… I should not say….” I increased the speed of my tweaking his nipples, and added to that the unexpected use of the index finger and thumb of my other hand on his defenseless cock head beneath his damp briefs…. “Aaaaaiiiiiiieeee…. No, no, oooooooohhhhhhhh Nooo… help me….” My thumb grazed back and forth over the taut circumcision scar, flicking the fat lobes of his glans, making him flex and his ass reflexively grind to escape the artificial sensitivity induced by the drugs. What a gorgeous animal, helpless and responding by instinct, and now leaking his own sticky clear pre-snot.

    “Tell me, Melik… answer my question, you want to go home, so answer my question.” My fingers continued their dual assault on his stiff teats and his drooling prick knob, teasing out the answer as his hips rose and fell on the chair, bouncing in response to the focused stimulation.

    “Aaaaaggghhhhh, God….aaaawwwwww… I… I… I learned at the scout camp…aaaaahhhhhh… an older boy… aaaaaggggghhh.” Melik burbled out a story of his youth, one of the many stories males hold to themselves, especially straight Muslim men who cannot admit to themselves that their cocks are more important than gender or orientation, and that sexual relief and satisfaction know neither. At a scout camp in the Lebanese summer of Melik’ he met an older boy, Hassan, who was eighteen. Hassan had immigrated with his family from Turkey because of his father’s work for a Turkish company in Beirut. Often alone at home as Hassan was a tall and handsome, with a man’s body, and a brooding countenance. He had learned at an early age from other boys how to enjoy pleasures of the cock, and how easy it was to introduce other lads into secret games. The more Western life in Turkey had also given Hassan exposure to the internet and culture that was forbidden to most Muslim youth. The boys at the summer camp were easy targets for his handsome presence, and the two week time frame made it easy to have his pleasures without risking too much chance of exposure. He quickly picked up the admiration of the husky Melik at the camp. Once he noticed the hero-worship of the lad and his hot body, Hassan persuaded the scout master to allow the two to share a tent-cabin.

    The second night, Melik awoke to sensations he had never experienced. His prong had been erect on more than one occasion in the morning, but he had learned to be patient and it would go down before he had to piss. On this occasion, he was wakened by a tickling sensation on the knob of his pricklet. Hassan’s big thumb, sticky from Melik’s own lubricant, was stroking back and forth over the boy’s bulbous prick tip. Melik instinctively closed his thighs on the hand that was inside his sleeping bag and between his legs… but the strong fingers persisted and the sensation overwhelmed him. He suddenly spread his legs wide, his toes pointing from the stunning sensation. He alternated opening and closing his thighs, but he could not stop the sensations or his surrender to them, and within minutes, he felt himself breathing faster, his ass grinding into the sleeping bag, and then his hips involuntarily thrusting up as his prong expanded and his glans went glass smooth. Hassan kept strumming his rod, thumbing the overwrought knob, and making him hunch and jerk. At one point, Hassan, had to put his hand over Melik’s mouth to prevent his loud hissing and groaning from waking others in nearby tents.

    Melik knew what he had allowed Hassan to do was wrong, but he was afraid of what the scout master might say if he told what happened and asked to move to another tent. Maybe the scout master would wonder why he spoke of such nasty things, and worse yet, what if Hassan denied it and claimed it was Melik who had initiated the actions and that he, Hassan, had been forced to stop him. No, it was best to keep quiet… and he did. So that was not the last night Melik learned the pleasures of masturbation. The bigger boy used him for pleasure, making him service his thick, curved prong. By the last two nights of the two-week camp, Melik was sleeping in the same bag as Hassan. After carefully masturbating the older boy’s 9 inch cock, bringing him to panting, shuddering, huge ejaculations, he would be required to lie on his back on top of Hassan’s long, lean torso. The older boy would use his long, strong limbs to hook around and stretch Melik’s legs, while his arms went under Melik's armpits to trap him on top of his bigger body. Then he would insert his thick digits into the younger lad's mouth, making him lick the fingers on one hand. Once Melik had humbled himself like a baby, sucking the thrusting fingers that explored his mouth, and tickled his platte, Hassan would grip Merik's thick 6” erection and begin a slow, languid process of milking his young tent-mate to two and sometimes three explosive, dry cums. Melik would buck as the overwhelming sensations drove him to involuntary gyrations, and played a brave game of resistance. Hassan was easily able to fend off the feeble attempts to pull the older boy’s fingers off of his pulsing penis. For his part, Hassan would distract him by pinching, plucking, gently twisting and scratching his strangely sensitive tits, occasionally tickling him under his arms, in his navel, and across his belly. When Hassan’s long, thin fingers would reach under the boy’s testicles and search out his private and sensitive anal slit, the sensation would make him lose control and leave his penis undefended for Hassan’s experienced fingers to roil and work, leading inevitably to the incredible, writhing cums. The constant distractions would also prevent Melik from having the strength to resist the older lad after the first cum, so his ticklish glans was often trapped in the rolling, sweat and pre-cum lubricated fist of the older boy. Melik and his penis secretly loved the amazing sensations which were produced by the full plam strokes up his shaft and over his aching knob. Over and over Hassan;s soft and yet calloused palm would slide up and down the shaft, and across the knob, driving his victi8m relentlessly up to the wrenching cums… where his prick would throb and pulse for up to fifteen seconds, especially if Hassan would circle his fingers and drag them against the corona as Merik thrashed his way through his cum.

    As Melik slurred his way through this memory, my own hand stroked up and down his now mature, thick, fat knobbed shaft, mimicking the route taken by Hassan’s teenage assault. My other hand strayed from his nipples to his testicles, and tickled under the heavy nut sack, now so full and tight under his shaft. Finally, I breached his most sacred portal, a location forbidden except to idolaters. I slipped on a finger vibrator and slid it between his firm ass cheeks now struggling to keep me at bay. Finding his ragged anal slit and dancing up and down the lips as Hassan once had, I upped the ante by inserting my finger-tip just inside his sphincter after patiently outlasting his stubborn and determined resistance. Melik’s cock hardened reflexively after the buzzing intrusion just inside his nether hole made the sexy captive whine and plead for something, a hoped for reprieve but most likely it was release: “AAAaaaaaaagggghhhhh Gaaawwwwwddd…” he howled with his sexy accent. “What are you doing to me… ooooooooohhhhhh pleeeeaaassse… oh pleeeaassseee… aaaaaahhhhhh.” I paused only long enough to attach clips with electric wires on his protruding, rubbery nipples, his frenulum, underneath his balls, and to slide a small, short prod with a similar wire into his unprotected bung. When I turned the current on suddenly at these locations, the shock (no pun intended), was another distraction to this now big boy, and his penis was left once again open to my ruthless ministrations. As long as I was focusing attention on his bulging prick, Melik could hardly focus. Only when I slid the prod up two inches into his rectum and it begin delivering its wicked electrical buzz on his defenseless prostate, did Melik put up a fuss. To ‘calm’ him, or rather distract him, I fully activated the electrical charges that buzzed and zapped his ripe titties, pulsed through his cock knob and balls, and made his ass muscles squeeze tight from the affect on his prostate. His ass lifted off the table, and he helplessly tried to shut his legs as if to squeeze out the pulsing intruder as if it was a stubborn turd. But the bonds held him fast and the prod did its wicked magic, driving him helplessly to a gigantic ejaculation.

    I went back to masturbating his shaft, but this time with the same glove I used on Habib. After two minutes of agonizing resistance, the overwhelming tickle on his bloated fuck tip, coupled with the ruthless invasion of his rectum and zapping electrical flicks of his tit nubs, sent Melik over the edge. I of course reduced my efforts so that the tension grew and grew, making him climb up to his shattering cum with agonizing patience. With a mightly thrust, he lifted his mid-section and screwed his betraying cock one last time into my torquing fist. Squeeze and twist, squeeze and twist, I applied a gentle but determined corkscrew motion around the sticky glans, now smooth as glass. Melik yelled one last bellowing cry for help or fuck lust, and rope and after sticky rope of tangy Muslim pride shot high above his body and landed with a splat on his chest, face and stomach. Shit, it was almost volcanic!

    “AAAGGGGHHHHH….AAAAHHHHHHH…. EEEEEEIIIIIIIOOOOOOO!!!” he screamed as his huge ejaculation ripped through his body, my fist kept spinning round and round his erupting knob… making him buck like a fish out of water. For five full minutes, I teased and rubbed and twisted his agonized prick tip… milking it ruthlessly, and teasing out every last drop of semen in Melik’s fat nuts. When I finally stopped, his chest was heaving and his head stopped snapping back and forth to finally collapse in semi-consciousness.

    I left him just in time to enter the other room and see Habib, strained against his bonds and rocketing bolts of thick tangy spooge onto the table, his toes curled tightly as the wicked milker kept working his fat prick knob as incessantly as my fist had worked poor Melik. I sat and watched him buck into oblivion… helplessly seeking to dislodge his big boy knob from the uncompromising sucking that would make a grown man faint from the sensation.

    The pictures I sent both young men, less than a week after they found themselves unbound, and naked in empty rooms of a downtown building, sent the fear of their God through them. The accompanying letter assured them that without their full cooperation, copies of these pictures would be posted on the internet in this city, and available back at home for their families to see. In addition, hard copies were ready to be sent to their parents who might not ever use the internet. Both young men were beaten, and when they realized that I only expected them to cooperate with me for six months… and then they would be freed from any obligations, they reluctantly assented to my demands.

    Tonight, Habib is compromised to screw Melik until his younger friend cums without his prick being touched. It should not be too difficult, because I have a bristle condom for Habib to slide over his curved scimitar as it roots deeply up into Melik’s soft rectum. Instead, Habib will use his finger with little finger vibrators on Melik’s whorish tits, pinching and twisting them as his fingers buzz, making the rigid nubs into mini-pricks to be milked and masturbated in rhythm with the fucking. A week ago, it was Habib’s turn… but it was a different approach. I had Melik use a soft bristled brush on his friend’s turgid penis, (both are in cock restraints until they meet with me), while an automatic small fucking machine slid a ribbed and bump covered twisting four inch vibrating prod up his hole. The neat thing was that Habib’s legs were over his head, and his cock was aimed at a mouth funnel that would drain down his throat once his cock exploded a week’s worth of pent of gism into it. With the patience of a prophet, Melik gently tortured his friend’s throbbing, leaking, smooth glans over and over, and danced around the corona whenever he got to close to making Habib cum. Melik had learned that Habib would not spare him any agonizing indignity when I made him work his younger friend, so when it was his turn, he gladly returned the favor. I can still see the brush working relentlessly on Habib’s circumcision scar, finally driving him to a bucking, toe-curling, finger scrabbling cum, and lining his esophagus with a thick layer of his own tangy baby juice… helping him to develop a taste for something both men would learn to enjoy before their time was through. With almost clinical efficiency, Melik basted the glans with the bristles as cum ejected from the wide piss lips, making sure Habib would near faint from the tickling his knob received from the cruel, maddening bristles as they scrubbed over the bloated fuck tip. Now the fun would begin!

  6. #6

    A Missionary's Tale

    The ring of tribal warriors gathered around Dean Colton seeming to sense his rising excitement and anticipation and pressed closer to the missionary, enjoying handsome 31 yr old Colton’s anxiety over their threatening presence and stance. Colton's big half-naked body was giving off heat and scent as he began to feel more and more like a cornered animal or hapless prey. Small in stature as they might be, the weapons these hunters carried looked more than ample to inflict quick and severe harm on Colton's exposed body. Before Colton could react with any sort of defense or plan the diminutive tribesmen began pressing their long sticks into his bare chest and naked thighs, thus eliminating any brief hope of escape. The hunters quickly and very efficiently brought Colton's 6'3" frame down to the ground, first knocking the towering man to his knees, and then forcing Colton face down to the ground with very firm hands. The fighters swarmed over Colton’s massive frame deftly binding his ankles, knees, thighs, wrists, and arms with several very soft, but very sinuous ropes of their own making. The speed with which the midget tribesmen immobilized his powerfully built physique made Colton's head spin as they wove an intricate web of thin ropes around his chest and thighs, running the soft lines around his waist and between his legs, often brushing the tight cloth that barely contained his bulging privates.

    In a twinkling, Colton was very securely and quite inescapably bound, hand and foot. As he began to squirm and voice his objections and obvious discomfort, his open mouth was stuffed with a balled cloth and secured by another around his head, gagging him quite perfectly. His ‘mmmphs’ and muffled grunts were ignored by this latest set of captors who seemed to take great pleasure in how easily they had brought this giant specimen of a man to ground and packaged him up very nicely for transport. Now this was not to be the end of Colton's jungle ordeal in the slightest for having toppled the giant missionary, the handsome males began to poke and prod Colton's body in earnest, looking at each other with knowing looks, but never speaking a word. Colton's big chest muscles were squeezed and groped like female breasts. His thick upper arms were gripped by the natives' hands to see if any could reach all the way around. The men sat on Colton’s powerful thighs and examined his muscular legs. Numerous hands now roved freely over his bound body. The nine tribesmen rubbed, poked, stroked, pinched, and even tickled Colton as he lay on the soft mossy floor of the lush jungle. The tribesmen delighted in making their massive prisoner’s body jump as they poked him with their fingers. A modern day Gulliver captured on his travels!

    The fact that the soles of Colton’s big, size 14, feet were very ticklish seemed to fascinate his assailants. First one tribesman would perch on Colton’s bound ankles and cruelly run his fingernails up and down the helpless giant’s big bare feet. Then other tribesman worked in groups of three or four as they tickled Colton's bare feet. They especially tickled Colton’s beefy toes which were pulled and pushed and bent back, until Colton’s massive frame quaked with hysterical raucous laughter as he tried desperately to squirm out from his many bonds.

    It was useless! As Colton continued to resist his captors he noticed that great care had been taken to secure his bonds along his long torso and legs in such a way that certain pressure points were now being activated on his body. Some pressure points reduced Colton’s overall strength and circulation, making the muscle bound man suddenly feel a great weakness, apathy, or weariness in his powerful limbs, thus preventing Colton from escaping through sheer brute strength. Colton learned that other pressure points had a decidedly, tactile, effect on his virile frame: as Colton pulled twitched, and struggled against the soft ropes, the knots seemed to tighten just so, so that blood was directed towards his intimate parts and Colton’s erogenous zones received great stimulation. Colton suddenly found that the confines of his already too tight shorts were moving from uncomfortable to unbearable with a surprising rapidity. Colton feared that somehow these ropes were bringing on a level of arousal that would quickly cause his shorts to burst with the mounting pressure of his engorged penis.

    The New Zealander's level of humiliation was rising by the minute. It was also becoming clear that this was precisely the design of the native men who from their knowing smiles, winks and expressions seemed to relish greatly their observation of Colton's mounting distress and subsequent arousal. As for the hapless Colton, he was very aware that the clever hunters had, quite purposefully, positioned his bound body so that he was easily assaulted all over. Then a horror as his shorts were undone and slipped down to his knees and then as his shirt was cut away whilst his boots were unlaced and both socks removed. Every ‘mmpphh’ and grunt was greeted with satisfied bouts of laughter and cruel jeers from the captors who touched his involuntarily hard 7" dick, stroking and tentatively licking at it but not allowing him relief and release, caressing his balls gently, it was hellish!

    The laughing hunters were gaining extreme pleasure at Colton's ever-mounting desperation as his body was caressed, his nipples pinched, the insides of his thighs caressed. After an hour of this game he was left with a huge erection and a drooling, almost mindless desire to do anything for the sake of relief on his aching dick. The hunters stopped and the frustration he'd been left with in this state of arousal was unbearable! Colton's immobilized his 230 pounds of solid muscle was trapped a web of the erotic inducing bondage from his muscular neck to his brawny ankles. His enormous bare feet protruded unprotected from the bottom of the web of bonds. The natives correctly sensed that this perfect handsome man must an alpha male used to dominating others. They savored their victory over such a daunting foe. The tribesman correctly deduced that Colton and his handsome features and powerfully built body allowed him to mate with the most beautiful women almost at will. So they knew that being extremely aroused and unable to find a release was a unique and agonizing experience for Colton and their elation in having quickly conquered such a mighty hunter excited them. This excitement was growing into a frenzied need to impishly torment the defeated hunter caught invading their territory.

    The hunters knew that the more they caused muscle bound captive to squirm, the more erotic stimulation would surge through his bulging erection but they'd prevent that mind blowing orgasm and keep the prisoner trapped in erotic frustration. They'd now dominate the alpha male. Maybe it was the heat and scent radiating from their sweating captive as their handsome prisoner tried to remain motionless in the web of ropes that ensnared his muscular physique. Maybe it was the sight of Colton’s huge vulnerable feet protruding from the bottom of web of bonds that imprisoned Colton’s massive six foot five frame but a new game was fashioned for the native's fiendish pleasure and Colton's exquisite torment. Their leader Kalis, would have the honor of being the first to exploit the very ticklish situation in which the Dean Colton now found himself.

    Kalis was lean and healthy and covered with defined muscles and his impressive strength was displayed as he grabbed the netting that entrapped Colton’s ankles, effortlessly pull Colton’s strong massive calves upward then sit on the ground and trap Colton’s huge feet between his crossed legs. Kalis pulled a small dark leather flask from his waist belt and removing the stopper poured a thick clear substance onto the upturned soles of Colton’s bare feet. As the thick liquid slowly dripped down from Colton’s heel toward his plump toes, the bound muscle man’s large foot reflexively wiggled. Even the slight involuntary movement increased the erotic stimulation of the tight ropes.

    Colton’s erection was pounding with an intense need for relief. Kalis began to softly rub the thick liquid into Colton’s naked heels. As the thick liquid was absorbed into the Colton’s skin, a mystifying healing transformation occurred. The thick calloused skin grew warm for a moment, then softened and healed, becoming supple and tender new skin. The newly healed skin was so sensitive that even the warm breezes blowing over the skin caused barely perceptible ticklish sensations to surge up Colton’s tightly bound powerhouse legs. Even these slight sensations increased the Colton’s desperate need to shoot his wad, the devious bondage surrounding his straining erection made that impossible. Kalis wore a fiendish smile as he softly and methodically worked the gelatinous liquid into the hard calluses on the soles of Colton’s huge feet. The hunter rubbed the healing gel into the hard reddish brown skin that on the edges of the arches of Colton’s feet as well as the pale skin on his high wide arches. Kalis had a heartless smile as he worked the viscous healing liquid into the pads beneath Colton’s large manly toes.

    Dean Colton forced his mind to focus on his dire situation. The hunters had not hurt him other than to bind him in a manner that caused extreme erotic stimulation and denial. While the bondage prevented his mighty limbs from moving, Colton was certain his powerful body was intact. He could move his head at will and he could feel the hand that was rubbing some type of warming gel into the tops and the soles of his bare feet. Colton was unable to move his feet at will but correctly attributed that fact to the disabling effect of the bondage on nerve centers in his legs. He was certain when the bondage was removed his powerful body would respond like a highly toned fighting machine. Colton could feel the tenderizing effect that the alien liquid was having on his large bare feet. Colton correctly deduced that the captors were sensitizing his feet in case Colton tried to run. Colton concluded that they would untie him to make him walk somewhere. Colton told himself that is when he would show the tribesman the frightful power that his massive physique could deliver.

    While Colton plotted his escape and revenge, the tribesmen were close to putting in place their own plot for the massive captive. Kalis finished his task of tenderizing Colton’s bare feet. The Leader of the hunters got up from where he had perched on Colton’s bound ankles and walked along side of the trapped body of the powerfully built captive to Colton’s head. Kalis pulled the gag from Colton’s mouth and then began to walk back toward Colton’s ankles. He almost shyly ran his sharp nails from the base of the Colton’s toes, down his wide high arch and to the base of his heel. The imprisoned alpha male was unable to move his powerful legs to escape the stimulation on the sole of his naked right foot. Kalis watched the bare foot wiggle slightly as his sharp nails gently passed over the tender skin. Colton felt the stimulation speed through his nervous system, causing his muscle to contract and force a slight giggle from his mouth and to his horror, Colton felt a slight surge of sexual pleasure causing his already painful erection to throb more desperately.

    Encouraged by his victim’s reaction, Kalis ran his sharp nails a more forcefully from Colton’s large toes down to his heel. The stronger stimulation surged through Colton’s agitated nervous system, drilled deeply into his brain and ended in a loud outburst of laughter. The tribesmen cheered excitedly. Kalis began to quickly stroke the soles of both of the bare feet of the helpless missionary with his pointed nails. Deep forceful laughter bellowed from the powerfully built captive. In spite of his predicament, Dean Colton’s practical mind was still rapidly assessing the situation and looking for ways to mount an escape. Colton could only move his head. The tribesmen had effectively paralyzed his muscle bound body. The captors had healed his huge feet of any calloused skin making his already ticklish feet even more sensitive. The muscular man was unable to do anything to dislodge the bastard aggressively tickling the soles of his bare feet. Colton's mind added two more facts to the assessment of the already dire situation.

    Although Colton’s body was racked with torturous laughter, he was not getting more exhausted or losing his ability to scream with laughter. Something in the bondage was keeping him fully conscious and unable to escape the stimulation. Colton knew mind he'd been trapped in a manner that would allow his captives to keep him racked with anguished laughter for as long as they wanted. His intelligent mind also correctly assessed the most significant danger was the erotic impact that the tickling was having on his already engorged dick. Colton’s mind knew that there would be a limit to the amount of overload his erection could handle before there was some drastic result. Colton’s mind was unable to deduce what that drastic result might be. While Colton’s mind was assessing his increasingly serious and changing situation, Kalis was undergoing some changes of his own.

    Kalis was not holding back at all in his attacks on Colton’s huge feet. The hunter was aggressively tickling the soles of his enormous victim. The captor smiled cruelly as he coerced thundering baritone moans from the gigantic victim. Kalis’ demonic stare was transfixed on the slightly wiggling feet as he traced his sharp nails across his enormous captive’s tender skin. Kalis had a cruel sneer as he tickle tortured Colton. The hunter reveled in the fact that his hunting troupe had toppled the gigantic man. He was euphoric that the upturned soles of the bare feet of the once towering muscle man were subject to his every whim and Kalis was intoxicated by the power he held over the trapped alpha male. Kalis knew that each time he stroked the bare feet of the hunter that he forced the huge man to be consumed with laughter but more deviously, Kalis knew each time his hand tickled the huge bare feet, he added to the handsome victim’s need to shoot his wad. Kalis reveled in the knowledge that bound Colton’s erection was prevented any relief. Not only had Kalis helped his hunting troupe overwhelm a powerful alpha male, and not only was Kalis forcing the powerfully built man to spew with endless anguished laughter but Kalis was also forcing the handsome captive’s large erection to throb with an extremely desperate need to ejaculate. Quite unexpectedly Kalis let out a near splitting yell of a warrior who is victorious in battle. The other tribesmen began to also cheer wildly.

    Kalis understood that the hunters had Dean Colton as a trophy. He became consumed with desire to completely subjugate the enormous captive. Kalis wanted Colton to understand at his very core that Kalis was now the alpha male. Kalis stood and cut the ropes that had bound Colton’s massive powerhouse legs to each other. Colton tried at once, frantically to move his legs, to rise up and stomp down his captors but Colton’s hopes were quickly dashed when he realized that each individual leg was still wrapped in the paralyzing ropes. At least the tribesman had stopped tickling him. Colton could feel the hunter pulling his legs further apart, leaving legs spread eagle on the ground. With a nod of his head, Kalis directed his hunting troupe to surround one of Colton’s large feet. Then with a second nod from Kalis, all eight hunters began to tickle torture the huge naked feet of the towering man they had overpowered.

    The agonizing laughter of the helpless alpha male thundered through the air. Kalis left the group and sat on the ground a few feet in front of the maniacally laughing Dean Colton. He studied the handsome man’s features as Colton face became distorted by waves of anguished laughter. He watched the tears flowing from the deep blue eyes. Kalis studied the mammoth body of the alpha male they had conquered. Colton’s broad muscular shoulders, huge defined chest and bulging arms could do nothing to protect him from Kalis’s vilest impulses. Kalis studied the long powerhouse legs and Kalis looked with pride at his fellow tribesmen as they sat on the ground vigorously stroking the feet of the trapped missionary. Each of Colton’ feet was being tickled by at least three pairs of hands. The tribesmen sadistically tickled every centimeter of Colton’s sensitive feet. Sharp nails ruthlessly scratched at Colton’s toes, endlessly brushed his wide soft arches, and scraped against Colton’s heels and ankles. The louder and more anguished Colton’s baritone laughter became, the moister Colton’s huge feet became from the constant stimulation of their tiny sharp nails, the more frenzied the tribesmen became in their attack intent on making sure the giant would never be a threat to them again.

    Inside his web of ropes, Colton’s mind was still struggling to find an escape. The paralyzing bondage left Colton feeling like he had been dismembered; that all that still existed of his powerful body were his two feet, his head and his dick. Colton’s mind fought to reassure Colton that his body was still intact; that Colton’s feet were not being used as some remote control center to torture him. Colton’s mind rushed to reassure Colton that the same methods that the tribesmen used to keep him fully conscious and unable to escape their tickle torture meant that his powerful body could easily kill his tormenters the minute he escaped the bondage. Colton’s mind struggled to overcome the desperate pressure in Colton’s erection. Colton’s mind was unable to reassure Colton that his erection would be able to endure the intense arousal much longer. Colton’s mind fought to control the rising fear that as the tickling continued to add to the erotic stimulation that eventually something in his dick would be forced to find release or else would rupture from the ever mounting pressure.

    Colton noticed Kalis return and once Colton made eye contact with the sneering hunter, it was as if his eyes were transfixed and unable to look away from the captor. Colton watched as Kalis began stroking his dick, the stimulation making his dick come alive, vibrating and causing a shaking deep within him. The relentless stimulation was having a tremendous and blatantly obvious effect on Colton’s fleshy pole which was now dancing and pulsing beneath the hands of the hunter smiling menacingly at him. The extreme stimulation proved to be too much for Colton and an explosion of semen burst from Colton’s engorged penis as the hunter's hand slowly stroked the alpha male’s erection. Dean Colton’s entire being was filled with intense erotic pleasure. He felt almost free of his body and free of any anxiety as Kalis pumped him dry, Colton’s mind brought back an image of cows that Colton had milked as a farm boy.

    It was not until he saw two other tribesmen sit by his feet and felt them beginning to tickle the soles of his huge feet that he began to feel concern. His panic grew as he realized that tickling was causing his dick to become erect again. As the pressure mounted in his hopelessly bound erection, Colton thought briefly of the cows on his home plant and realized that this was now his destiny; that he was to be milked and tickled repeatedly and be used as a source of amusement for his captors but his mind blanked as he again became consumed with forced laughter………
    Last edited by Autolycus; January 23rd, 2013 at 04:04 AM. Reason: Layout corrected

  7. #7

    Easy Money!

    At the college party Jason introduced Dean to one of the baseball players on the college team who was there with his cunt-for-the night. The jock played third base for a team going no-where, but he seemed like an okay dude. As they drank and made small talk, the player saw someone enter the party he recognized and he made a snide, off-hand remark about faggots below his breath to Dean. Dean's pick-up pussy and the ball-player's date had gone to the bathroom to powder whatever chicks need to powder, so he had nothing better to do than shoot the shit with the wry jock. When the dude made his off-hand comment about a "faggot" it caught Dean's attention because it seemed to come out of the blue, and who the fuck was talking about fags anyway? So, despite the banality of male banter they had been engaged in, for a moment, Dean began to focus. Acting disinterested, he casually turned to Jason and said, "Dude, what the fuck...who's a fag?" The baseball player nodded his head in a direction across the room, and then indicated as discreetly as he could the good-looking frat type who was making small talk with a girl and her date.

    "That dude in the rugby shirt, he's a faggot?" Dean asked, wondering why any dude with half-way decent looks would be interested in other men but there was something persistent in Dean's inquiry, as if he needed to know.

    "How do you know?" Dean asked with a puzzled expression. The guy looked straight enough. Was there a magic signal or indicator that you could detect that let you know if a dude was queer? That might come in handy, just in case some friendly guy turned out to be staring at your ass. He focused on the baseball jock's analysis.

    "Simple dude, the fag pays me to let him suck my toes." When Jason saidthis, he looked casually at Dean and made a wry, cynical smile as if everyone with a lick of sense knew what he was talking about.

    "What...what the fuck are you talking about dude?" For a moment he wondered about the baseball player?...Dean was more puzzled then ever and he could not help himself from taking a quick peek down at the jock's feet, looking at the long, thick toes in a pair of flip flops.

    20yr old Jason laughed at Dean's confusion, and then explained that a number of the jocks on campus had joined a web site where they earned easy money from faggot types who wanted to sniff and suck their toes. Most of it was done on line, but the big money came from letting the scumbags actually service their feet. The dude across the room had met with the baseball player two times during the semester. He liked it when the third baseman came back from practice with his leggings and sweat soaked socks on...and let him use his teeth to unlace the cleats, and then let the ballplayer wriggle his sock and legging cover toes and feet over his face.

    "Shit, you shoulda seen him snarf my dogs...I'm size thirteen, long toes and he couldn't get enough of `em, sniffing, sucking, licking. I don't get it...I don't even like chicks' feet, but fuck, who's gonna turn down a payday? If people wanna chow down on my big boats, have a go at it... man just pay me...you dig?" As he spoke, he flexed his long toes, curling them in the flops and exposing the pale arch of his foot.

    "No chick has dug my feet as much as that bitch...actually made me throw a fuckin' bone the way he sucked my toes like he was sucking my dick...but that's all the faggot...and he paid like a mother-fucker. He'll act like he doesn't know me from shit, but he's already made a date for next week, after practice." I keep my feet sweaty cause he likes a scum bag!"

    The girls came back in a few minutes and so the discussion ended, but Dean couldn't keep his eyes off the handsome young man who was still working on the girl he began talking to when he arrived at the party. How could this guy, who seemed to be working the chick hard enough to get a blow job or a fuck later, also want to submit to another dude and get his rocks off sucking some guy's feet? Dean was shocked, but he was also curious.

    For some reason what the jock Jason had told him made him throw a bone as the lad described the handsome guy sucking his toes. Jason told him that he required the punk to keep his hands locked behind his back, and to crawl to him on his knees and forearms. He listened with rapt attention, his eyes straying again and again down to the baseball player's size 13 feet in the flip-flops, his toes flicking and flexing as he described the details. When he said the dude craved being out of control, and having to submit to the baseball player's big body...it made a shiver run up Dean's spine. Fuck, there was something about losing control that was at the back of his mind too. The ballplayer's big pale feet were muscular, with long toes and a high meaty arch, a narrow but muscular heel. Didn't all guys have big feet? Who the fuck, Dean thought would want to smell another dude's feet much less suck on them? Still besides the loss of control, there was something else nagging Dean, and finally he had asked the key question.

    "Dude, how much money do you make?" The baseball player told him that on-line it cost guys about $50-$100 for a session with a cam, but the in person sessions could earn up to $200 or $300 bucks. "Fuck..." Dean whispered under his breath, staring across the room at the boy who seemed so normal, so regular. He flexed his own thick toes in his shoes and socks, and wondered what a dude had to do at a "in person" session. He turned to Jason and asked.

    "Shit, it's easy money dude. You just sit back on a chair or couch, and the faggot gets down on his hands and knees and crawls over to you. I got a rule, no touching above the ankles...but below, they can have at it. So usually they take off my shoes and socks, or flips depending on what they want me to wear, sniffing my shoes and socks, or going straight down to get it on with my feet. I'm popular cause I have size 13 boats, and the fags like big feet...think its related to the size of a dude's dick...and the bigger the feet, the hotter the queer gets for `em. That dude across the room sucked my toes for an hour, and then jerked himself off. He said he would pay me another $100 bucks if I let him cum on my feet and then lick it off, but I said `Fuck No.' I didn't want any of his shit on me but I
    know dudes who'll even let `em suck their cocks and shit, and charge up to a $1,000 a session...but those are usually with older men who have the cash."

    Dean listened, mesmerized by dollar signs flashing through his head as he absorbed the baseball player's words. His prick was still hard from the idea of some dude losing control of his masculinity and submitting to another dude...but right now, all he could focus on was the idea of cool cash that could help out a construction worker who was struggling during the damn recession. Fuck he had size twelve feet! Christ, if he could set a schedule to work it out, he could make some fast money on the side and get the motor bike he'd wanted and put some cash aside for the rainy days that seemed to be coming more often in the current economy. He acted as casual as he could, but asked the baseball player if he could get the url for the web site where you could sign up, Jason gave it to him. By that time the girls had returned, and later that night as he fucked his date senseless, he was actually dreaming about his new bike, how soon he could make the down-payment, and maybe just a bit of what it would be like to have some dude crawling and helpless, desperate for a weird-ass sexual craving and release.

    Dean had an appointment a week later. After signing up on the web site, and posting pictures of his feet, he soon had two to three appointments a week that were earning him anywhere from $200 to $500. He called his clients "The Dean's List" as a kind of joke, but the important thing was that he was making money. At first it was just his feet. After all, he was 6' 2" tall and almost 190 lbs. When he flexed his long, thick toes, the men who had purchased time with him in person had expressions of helpless surrender. Soon their tongues were wrapped around his big toe, or laving between his other ones, and sniffing the scent of his foot sweat. Dean was a construction worker, wearing thick boots all day. There was enough shoe odor, and foot sweat to keep his clients happy. Then, about five months into doing the gigs, a man Kent had paid him an extra $300 bucks for allowing him to suck his cock and other stuff that he would not ever let happen again.

    Dean did not take this action lightly. He had no interest in queers per and homo-sex seemed strange and perverted to him but there was something about losing control that made his prick a bit harder whenever he let himself go there. He had an met the older guy on line who named Kent had arranged to meet him after Kent had worked out and he promised not to shower. Kent in his early 40's had noted Dean's nervousness and he produced a porn tape. As they watched a peroxide blond swallow what seemed like a foot long prick on some dude, hard-ons developed for them as Kent had explained he was bi - sexual but liked guy's big feet. Dean was drinking too for dutch courage and watching the chick work on the dude's prick made him feel like he could cum over and over. He did not wonder when Kent answered the doorbell but then another guy Kent's age came into the room

    "Yeah we got ourselves some fun Joe, he fell for it so got ourselves a toy to play with!" said Kent and too late Dean knew he was in trouble. Both men jumped on him and were holding him down on the couch; then they began pulling off his clothes. There's something about forcibly stripping someone that is such a turn on. The men laughed and yelled at Dean various insults, as he sputtered, cursed and fought to prevent them from removing his clothing, inevitably his pale, muscular body and skin began to emerge, exposed as his clothes were shed over the floor of the living room and the men's hands glided over each place they exposed, gently rubbing, feeling, tickling and probing.

    The men began to stroke and feel Dean's firm young body from head to toe. 20 fingers were stroking him, scratching over his abs, sliding over his stiff teats, poking into his ears, tickling under his arms and into his navel, and stroking his thick dick. In the midst of these delicious sensations. The incredible feeling of over - load with the strong fingers probing his muscular form, tickling and caressing him found him involuntarily responding to being touched and felt during the physical play. Kent's hand sliding over his dick, thumbing the sticky drool that had leaked from the wide piss lips, his legs stretched out, his toes curled as the other guy got fixated on his feet but not sensually massaging or licking them and sucking his toes as he had prepared himself for Kent to do but instead mercilessly tickling them which Dean hated with a vengeance! He tried to turn over onto his stomach in an almost reflexive response to the maddening tickle. Dean groaned low, unable to keep completely quiet. It took all his strength to keep from giggling out loud, making him grit his teeth from the excruciatingly ticklish sensation.

    Kent sped up the flicking of his thumb on Dean's throbbing erection. Dean gritted his teeth even more and tried to wriggle away from the men's ministrations to his body as it felt like rape! His long toes curled tight and he gasped from the amazing sensation of Kent's thumb grazing back and forth on his now captive dick. The intensity of the sensation of Kent's thumb was something he had never felt before. Even in a whoozy drunken stupor, he found he liked the feeling of being stretched out and someone else working his always stiff prick. Fuck...it felt so good to be out of control...weird but really different and all he could do is surrender to the relentless fingers of the elder man. Dean found his hips plunging into Kent's fist and Kent seeing Dean would not stop him, loosened his grip and let Dean involuntary fucking instinct take over, and the rigid prick, slick with his pre-fuck, forced its way in and out of Kent's circled fingers. The other guy had quit with tickling Dean's feet now orally tongue bathing them sucking hard on all his sweaty toes

    "Oooooohhhhhhhh fuck...ooooooooh shit...aaaaaaagggghhhhhhh" Dean groaned as low and quietly as he could, his eyes squeezed shut and his hips picking up speed. Kent just mauled and milked Dean's dick in his fist. For his part, Dean allowed his dick to be jerked off ruthlessly by Kent. The other guy then quit licking both feet and he grasped one of Dean's erect tit nubs, and the added a sensation that made Dean thrust his head back down onto the cushion even as he thrust his hips up into Kent's masturbating fingers and to his big feet again being licked from heels to toes and suddenly the inevitable result as he arched his back towards Kent and he shot his load

    "Aaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee... Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh..."

    Kent laughed quietly and continued to thumb the wet glans, making Dean buck and swing his head and face in the sofa cushion in an attempt to get through the unbearable sensation having cum. Dean hissed and continued to whine softly into the pillow, allowing his dick to be controlled by Kent who teased it making Dean feel even more helplessly out of control, his dick had never felt so intense and sensitive. His masturbation had never produced such a feeling, and even though he had cum, his prick remained hard as steel as long as Kent played with it but then having cum and exhausted he soon found both men at his feet as Kent told him that they'd be so horribly ticklish having shot his juice that they had paid for his services and his feet needed a lot of attention both oral and manual!

    Last edited by Autolycus; January 24th, 2013 at 06:04 AM. Reason: Layout fixed

  8. #8

    "Family Justice"

    Giovanni Martinelli had grassed on the "Family". The Boss had told the two henchmen to teach the guy a lesson but no physical damage as he was useful to them and the guys remembering him telling them of his greatest weakness in a past conversation were ready to exploit it as he
    had been happy enough to betray them so all sense of loyalty and comaraderie was lost!

    Giovanni had been drugged and now woke in the attic room secured to the matress naked and facing Mario and Claudio who were smiling at the handsome guy seeing him flinch as they stroked his body teasingly telling him that he liked to play games with them; they liked to play games too.

    Now seeing the cuffs around his wrists and ankles he panicked and struggled as fingers stroked his nipples, armpits, inner thighs, his balls and stomach as he realised he was going nowhere.

    "Don't worry Gio. We aren't going to hurt you, the Boss says he still needs you but we're just going to have a little fun." said Mario as he stroked the Italian captive's neck

    Giovanni grew even more nervous at Mario's grin and began to squirm a bit. It wasn't until they each drew out feathers and waved them tauntingly in his face that their plans for him became clear. Giovanni's squirming turned to outright fighting to free himself. He'd never been able to stand being tickled and tickled by his two elder brothers he had a serious phobia of being tickled. He lay there terrified of what was to come. Here he was naked and wide open to their attack being tied spread eagle, unable to move more than a few precious inches. Then, suddenly, it began and the reality turned to only one thing...TICKLING.

    Mario and Claudio were at each underarm each. As they teased and tormented him, Giovanni thrashed wildly in a feeble attempt at escape. "MMMMMMMMMMMPPHHHHH!!!! NNN----!!! H-H-H-H-H-H-H-" came the muffled cries through the duct tape they'd secured on him. The guys proving to be expert ticklers, flicking their feathers lightly back and forth and twirling them in circles as they taunted Giovanni's bare flesh. For the next ten minutes, he knew nothing but tickling as they reminded him how he'd told them about his tickling torture at home, reminded of it having dated Laura until the night she'd discovered his weakness and during sex would tickle him in spite of his protests and after three months he'd finished with her The three men out at a bar pussy chasing as he was on the prowl again!

    After 35 mins the guys gave him a break. Tears ran down his cheeks as he struggled to breathe. He was exhausted from the exertion and the lack of air caused by the tape over his mouth. They noted his condition and removed the duct tape. Immediately he began gulping down air, trying to regain his composure.

    Once he'd recovered enough to speak he began to plead for mercy. "Please!", he begged, "Please, no more tickling! You have no idea what that does to me! Please, no more!" He was actually whimpering as he spoke.

    "Awwwwwwww,! Are we a bit ticklish?", Claudio said mockingly, wiggling a single finger in Giovanni's belly button, which elicited a scream. Quickly covering his mouth with his hand, he turned to the Mario and said, " Let's tickle him some more!"

    Giovanni began to plead again. "NOOO!!! Please...please...guys! I'll do anything you want. Just please don't tickle me any more! PLEASE!" His final plea was one of desperation as he watched Mario and Claudio move closer to his feet. As ticklish as the rest of him was, it was like nothing compared to his size 12 feet. Giovanni knew he couldn't take that but he had no choice in the matter. He was totally helpless. Mario winked up at him as he began to trace along the tops of the toes of both feet with the tip of his feather.

    "AAAAAAAAHHH!!!", screamed Giovanni, "Please,! NOOO!!! Not my feet!!! They're too ticklish!!! PLEASE!!!" He kicked and tugged with all his might, but could not escape the feather.

    "Nooo! You're too ticklish?", mocked Mario, "Where are you too ticklish? Are you too ticklish here?" He stroked the feather teasingly over the exposed arch of Giovanni's left foot. "Or is it here?", he said, dragging it along the tips of his toes. "Or maybe here?", he said as he began flicking the feather up and down his bare sole.

    Giovanni had jumped and yelped with the previous strokes. Now, all he could do was scream. "NOOOOOOOO!!! PLEASE!!! NOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!", he cried. The soles of his feet were insanely ticklish. Seeing his reaction, Claudio, Mario's partner in crime began the same treatment of the right foot. Together, they tickled and tickled, sending Giovanni into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

    Before long he was breathless and in need of another break. Not wanting this to turn ugly, they stopped to allow him a rest. He gasped and sputtered, trying to get in some air. He was still feeling the tickling sensations on his feet, which made it difficult to catch his breath. Finally, Giovanni had regained his composure but it was not to last.

    "I see what fun Laura had Gio, no wonder you had to quit seeing her, cannot imagine the sex was good but I am sure she enjoyed controlling you as I am!" said Claudio and Mario also nodding his head and smiling

    Seeing that Giovanni had recovered enough to recommence, the two started in again. This time, they dispensed with the feathers and used their fingertips, scratching lightly up and down both soles lubricated by Giovanni's own sweat. As they scribbled their fingers over his now hypersensitive feet, the Mafia member let out a blood curdling scream. Quickly, a hand was clasped over his mouth to make his sense of helplessness even greater!

    Both then after an two hours stopped the torment which had driven him ballistic concentrating predominantly on both his feet from heels to toes, underneath and in between all his toes, taunting him elsewhere so along his neck, across his nipples, under each arm, along his belly, up and down his inner thighs and under his knees. His entire body had tensed as he'd drawn in a long deep breath. Every inch of him was already feeling abused with the tickling of his feet proving being overwhelming!

    Then the worst Mario stroked his feather along Giovanni's involuntarily hardened shaft and Claudio gently stroking his balls but both doing this so the sensations were excruciating and soon Giovanni desperate to cum but driven to the edge, each of them taking it in turns to tickle his feet to lose his enforced erection as he wiggled and thrashed and screamed in laughter. Finally allowing him to shoot his load but then they each began to nibble and lick his soles and toes. Giovanni let out another scream and increased his efforts at escape. Though his efforts proved useless as the intensity of the foot tickling became ever more unbearable. Giovanni could barely breathe from the laughter and struggling. His entire system was beginning to rebel from the overwhelming sensations he was subjected to, he has never betrayed the "Family" since but has been toyed with for the Boss's amusement!

  9. #9
    Sex God
    Join Date
    Jun 2012
    Middleburg Hts (Cleveland)

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    Re: A Missionary's Tale

    Holy smoke, was this hot!

  10. #10
    On the Prowl
    Join Date
    Sep 2011

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    Re: Teased and Tormented!

    wow - looking forward to reading more - great story so far

  11. #11
    JUB Addict BiMike's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2004

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    Re: A Missionary's Tale

    Yea certainly something new! Got me kinda hard Like to hear more !

  12. #12
    Sex God sexmadboy29's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2006

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    Re: Easy Money!

    like the idea of easy money
    Hot and Horny

  13. #13

    Ticklish Turk!

    The 6'1" Turk Karim Hussein a married business executive was visibly nervous when he opened his front door to me but he had called the Agency for a massage. Slim and fit he spoke of his wife visiting family in Turkey as he lay on his stomach on the bed telling me he'd worked late and just needed relaxation. I love straight guys best as touching them is a real thrill letting them experience forbidden fruit!

    I rubbed some oil on my hands and started at his shoulders. I kept working his shoulders until he was relaxed and they were no longer tight. I then worked his shoulder blades and did the same thing. He told me it was a very good hand job I was doing on his back. I thought to myself, I would love to turn you over and show you how good a hand job I can do on your other side.

    "If I do anything that hurts make sure you let me know," I said.

    He said, "You don't have to worry about that, you'll be the first to know."
    "I'll be yelling."

    "That's okay, you can yell as loud as you want. I just don't want to hurt
    you," was my reply.

    I then worked my hands down toward his lower back. I was moving ever so slowly, relieving the tension a little at a time deliberately sensually. He was moaning softly and told me that it really felt good. He was starting to relax all over. When I got down to the waistband of his briefs I slipped my hands in them, rubbing the upper part of his butt, just above his crack.

    "Do you want me to take my sweats off?" he asked.

    "That would be great," I replied. "then I can work the tension out of your

    He lifted his butt up carefully as I pulled his sweats off. He had one nice bubble butt that I had admired as I touched it. I put my hands back in his waistband, but never got to his crack. I simply massaged the upper part of his butt. I kept doing that for the longest
    time and I was glad he couldn't see me.. My cock was bulging in my sweats. I then went to his right leg and massaged it down to his ankles. I massaged his toes which smelled awesome and he was moaning and told me that it felt great. He never had anyone massage his toes. I worked my hand down his other leg, massaging it the same way really giving some attention to his toes which were long and his size 12 feet very attractive!

    I slowly worked my hands up the inside of both of his legs. When I got to the leg band of his briefs I stopped.. I wanted to put my hands inside his briefs but stopped myself, I kept massaging his thighs for the longest time. I stroked along his inner thighs seeing him squirm so was clearly excited and then rolled him on his back and he covered his eyes but told me to release his dick. Did I, all 7" and my own jumped in my briefs.

    " It will be easier for me if I pull your jockey shorts down to your knees."

    "Sure," he said, "whatever works best for you."

    My cock was growing in my sweats. I wonder if he noticed. I pulled his briefs down slowly and let his cock spring out and dangle between his legs. Having his cock locked up in his briefs made it nice and warm. I grabbed it and put it back in his briefs and I put my mouth on his briefs. I nibbled his cock through his briefs from the head down to the base of his shaft. Then stopped rolled him over and stroked the crack of his butt, caressed and gently
    massaged along it ... lubricated by his own sweat. Karim had no choice, he was moaning with pleasure as I began massaging his legs but really working on his big and sweaty feet which smelled deliciously masculine and then his toes, massaged, licked and sucked which
    dove him into a frenzy of excited delirium.

    "Damn," he said, "That sure does feel good when you massage my toes and suck them."

    "I know!" I said as I am great at enjoying guy's feet as they all appreciate without exception!

    I worked my hands up his legs again. I was massaging one thigh all the way up to his leg band. He then spread his legs as far apart as he could. When he did this I knew he wanted his crotch massaged. I put more oil on my hands and put both hands through his left leg band. I was massaging the left cheek of his ass with my right hand, and my left hand
    was working on the upper part of his leg. I was rubbing it all the way up to his waistband.

    I took my right hand and started rubbing the crack of his ass. I worked it down to his crotch. He was moaning as I did this, but did not move at all. I kept rubbing his crotch
    and pushed my hand so that it could touch his balls. I kept doing this for the longest time fully knowing I was giving him a lot of forbidden pleasure! I smiled seeing the photo of he and his wife by the bedside ... if she only knew, couldn't imagine her man seduced by a man! I went to his right leg and did the same thing really sucking on all his toes. I took my hands out of his briefs and got up so I was facing his legs. I put both my hands through
    the waistband of his briefs and rubbed the cheeks of his ass. I would move my hands slowly down his cheeks and out his leg band. He did not move at all.

    After I took my hands out of his briefs he turned over again. He wanted me to massage the front of him. My cock was throbbing in my briefs, but he did not say anything. He cupped his hands behind his back. I could not help notice his hard cock, and the pre-cum on his briefs.

    He said, "Your massaging has made me fuckin' horny. It made my cock hard
    while you were rubbing my crotch and ass. I see it did the same to you."

    I just nodded my head in agreement and took his hands from behind his head and started massaging them. I worked my hands down to the palm of his hand and then back up to his shoulder. I did it with his other hand too. After I was through with his hands he again put
    them behind his head. I rubbed more oil on my hands and started on his shoulders. I massaged them and went over to his armpits. I played with the hair that was there
    and then moved to his chest. I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest, and then started playing with his nipples, making them hard with little pinches as I teased him I was
    now on control!

    I followed the stream of hair down to his belly button. I played with it and then worked my hands toward his waistband. I put some more oil on my hands and slid my hands through his waistband. I moved them ever so slowly down towards his leg bands. I slid them out and rubbed the inside of his thighs. Then I brought them back ever so slowly. His hard cock was oozing pre-cum out on my arm. I took my arms out from his briefs and licked the
    pre-cum that was on my left arm.

    He looked at me and asked, "Did it taste good? "

    "You bet it did," was my reply. "I would give you a taste, but there is
    none left on my arm. I'll have to get some more so you can have a taste."

    I took pre-cum off his cock and stuck my fingers in his mouth. I then started on his thighs and worked my hands toward his toes. Again I massaged his toes, for I knew he liked having that done but I tickled his feet too which he loved to hate me doing but he sensed I was in control so as he laughed and begged me to stop allowed me to slowly work my hands up toward his briefs. I massaged his right thigh and worked my hands inside his leg band. I
    started massaging his crotch with my right hand. He was moving slightly. He told me he was really enjoying this. I rubbed his balls and then his cock. I switched back and forth.. I rubbed his cock all the way up to the head. I put my fingers on his piss slit and felt the pre-cum that was there. I pulled his cock back in his briefs to make a nice tent. While it was in that position I ran my hand up and down his cock. I was stroking his cock while it was inside his briefs.

    "You had better stop that for I am about to cum," he said.

    "What's wrong with that, it feels good when you cum," I said, as I licked the head of his cock.

    "Yes it does, but I don't want to cum in my briefs," he replied, as he
    licked pre-cum off his fingers.

    I took my hands out of his briefs and lifted his waistband up. When I did this his cock sprang loose and slapped into his belly. I pulled his waistband down below his balls and he said, "Please stroke my cock if you don`t mind."

    "Is that all you want?" I said, as I grabbed his cock.

    He didn't know what to say. He was a little nervous as I pulled his briefs
    completely off. He was now nude, lying on the bed exposing his throbbing cock.
    I put my tongue on his piss slit then I swallowed his cock and his body jumped a
    little on the bed. I had caught him by surprise.

    I used my teeth to chew on the head of his cock. This caused him to leak more pre-cum.
    I then took his cock out of my mouth and lapped up the pre-cum out of his piss slit. This way he could see the long strand of pre-cum that was coming out of his cock. I started my mouth on his cock. I was up and down on it, moving slowly. I didn't want him to cum yet. I wanted this to last as long as possible.

    I moved my head back and forth so the head of his cock could get massaged. I then
    pulled out of him and licked his balls. He was sweating and breathing heavy. He told me that was awesome, he had never had anyone do it that way. Since he liked it so much, I decided to do it again. This time I kept the head of his cock in the back of my throat as long as I could and playing with his balls I was driving him crazy!

    I knew he was going to shoot. He shot round after round in my mouth. I swallowed it all, I did not let any slip away. My hard cock that was dripping with cum. I had shot off the same time he was shooting.

    I said, " I couldn't contain myself. I was so excited I couldn't hold it. I just shot off the moment I felt his cum hit my mouth".

    Again I took his cock in my mouth and licked all the cum off of it. I worked my mouth up and down on his hard cock, making sure I got every drop of his cum. I had licked him so clean he didn't need to wash. Then I secured both his feet and told him having freshly cum that his
    feet would give me such pleasure as they'd be very ticklish! I proved I was right and was in
    control all through the night!


  14. #14
    On the Prowl
    Join Date
    Sep 2011

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    Re: Ticklish Turk!

    Very hot story - is there more ??

  15. #15

    Meeting Matt!

    Damien and Jeff had picked up Matt at the club and they returned to their crib where they sat on the sofa and began licking Matt’s ears and neck. Slipping fingers under his tee, stroking him sensuously, loving making him moan and seeing and feeling him harden in his shorts as they each slid their fingers inside the legs of them and caressing his balls, seeing him flinch but not taking notice as they were too busy seducing the handsome blue eyed, blond student and sometime model of men’s fashion at H-M. while studying Business studies and Economics at college. Jeff slowly running a hand over Matt's bulge and Damien licking and nibbling Matt's nipples. As Jeff orally enjoyed sensually exciting Matt licking his belly, Damien was unlacing Matt's well worn Nikes and had them pulled off and was licking the socked toes when Matt kicked out saying

    "Fuckin' cut that shit out man, fuckin' tickles got it!"

    The guys were shocked and the atmosphere changed and attitudes switched with Jeff becoming aggressive and telling Matt he needed to learn respect and he and Jeff then tore at the tee and shorts the student was wearing this hot August Californian night. Both guys shouted at the college guy and frogmarching him to the bedroom as he was pleading with them to be let go. They pushed him onto the bed and Jeff sat on him while Damien then proceeded to secure the 6' freshman to it and gagged him. Jeff and Damien then knelt by Matt's socked size 11 feet and winked at each other as running a finger along his socked soles caused him to shudder. Jeff held Matt's left foot and he slowly uncurled the sock pushing it up over the sole and lifting it off completely until he faced the exposed bare left foot.

    "Seems College boy’s got a ticklish problem eh Jeff, yeah these stinky feet seem sensitive, what do you reckon?" Damien said

    "He needs to learn some manners and reckon a bit of tickle torture is in order and Mmmm his feet smell nice n' raunchy so hey Matt you ticklish on these feet? Well too bad, just too bad as my buddy and I are quite partial to a college boy's ticklish feet so it's our lucky night!" said Damien as he had stripped off the right sock making Matt moan through his gag.

    They then played with Matt's feet in their hands for awhile, massaging his tender soles and pushing their fingers in and out between all his toes. They wiggled the toes of each foot between their index fingers and thumbs and traced their fingers along the contours of both feet, which elicited an assault of helpless giggles from hyper-ticklish Matt who was truly now suffering as both guys continued playing with his feet until Jeff got more kinky and then sucked on Matt's toes. He slipped his mouth over Matt's left big toe, sucking on the digit and running his tongue along the edges of his toenail. Damien still massaging Matt's right sole let his mouth latch onto Matt's right big toe and sucked it as Jeff had, snaking his tongue all around the fleshy digit and gliding it across his toenail. Matt was going berserk as he felt the unbearable sucking on his toes. Both his feet were in their faces and their raunchy odor stirred them into action. Both feet smelled strongly of sneaker sweat, a cheesy aroma that just happened to be appealing to the guys. While Damien continued to suck on Matt's toes, Jeff ran his tongue along the soles of Matt's feet. The soles and toes sucking increased in fervor as Damien's mouth slipped over two of Matt's toes, then three. He sucked with glee, delighting in the taste of them and the fact it was torture for their victim. Jeff loved working over Matt's feet, his lips coming into contact with their warm flesh as he worked his lips up and down each one of the soles of Matt's feet.

    Damien kept on nibbling and sucking Matt's toes while Jeff was sitting on the bed and concentrating on rubbing his own feet all over Matt's face. Matt was simply in hell as one of his captors’ feet roamed all over him! Then it was Damien who focused his attention on Matt's feet and sucked his big toe into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, coating it in his foot-flavored saliva. He ran his tongue along his large sole and indulged in the flavor of the sweaty foot. Unable to prevent himself from total indulgence, he grabbed the left and right feet together and shoved the toes of both feet into his hungry mouth, eagerly double-sucking on them with utter glee making the tormenting sensations horrendous but Matt guessing this session was going to last until at least sunrise and all he could do was laugh!
    Last edited by Autolycus; January 24th, 2013 at 07:32 AM. Reason: TLC

  16. #16

    Teasin' the Cowboy!

    Ed was the loser having been caught by the two ranchers trespassing on their property with it seemed the intent to rob them and facing a rifle held by Larry, Jeff secured him to the wooden chair, Jeff began to toy with the buttons on Ed's western shirt, gently popping them open and twining his fingers around the soft tufts of the 6'2" cowboy's brown chest hair. When he had undone all the buttons, he pulled the shirt tails out of Ed's jeans.

    "Hey c'mon, guys, okay I'm sorry dudes, gimme a break huh," Ed weakly protested.

    "Relax cowboy man it's cool, you're not goin' anywhere, we're gonna get you in the mood, Hey Larry, how about giving me a hand with these boots?" Jeff and Larry each took one of Ed's long legs and yanked off his grey, hand tooled cowboy boots. Jeff pulled a white sweat sock off Ed's big size 13 right foot and, dangling it distastefully saying "Whew, man, ever change these things working out on the range?" He tickled the soleof 22 yr old Ed's bare foot while Larry peeled off the other sock. Then Larry sat astride both legs and began undoing his belt as Jeff kept strokin 'both soles smirkin' seeing Ed flinch as his toes wiggled.

    "Hey c'mon guys, I mean it, what the fuck hahhaha . . . ?" responded ticklish Ed

    Jeff and Larry would not be deterred and he was suddenly gagged with Jeff's sweaty right sock. When Ed tried to push Larry away from his crotch, Jeff went behind the chair and grabbed his arms. Larry undid Ed's belt while Ed put up a struggle. Having undone the belt, Larry unbuttoned Ed's jeans and roughly yanked at them, exposing overstuffed white jockey shorts. He slipped his hands under Ed's ass, grabbed the seat of his jeans and peeled them down inch by inch. Ed with his arms pinned behind him and his pants off, rolled his eyes in exasperation and fear. Larry knelt in front of him and buried his head in Ed's crotch, sniffing and slobbering into his underwear. The shorts began to inflate, much to Larry's delight. He gently bit the head of Ed's dick through the underwear, causing the handsome cowboy to yelp. Larry raised his head from their captive's groin, grabbed the waistband of the underwear with both hands and yanked. Ed's hard, uncut cock sprang up like an agitated one-eyed cobra. The girth and 9" length of his dick fascinated Larry, he curled his fingers around it and squeezed it as if it were a protective talisman. Ed emitted a muffled moan and shifted his hips about, pumping his tool in and out of Larry's fist. Larry bent forward and took the cock in his mouth, tongue-flicking the exposed head and nibbling at the rolls of foreskin.

    "Yeah Larry man, suck his cock, man," Jeff said. Larry opened his mouth wide, relaxed his throat muscles and let the monster dick invade his gullet. Nothing turned him on more than giving a dude a skillful blowjob especially if like Ed Calvert the guy was straight, he liked them weakening from his oral ministrations. Jeff released Ed's arms and grabbed his hard tits, his fingers rustling around in Hal's abundant chest hair. He kneaded, tweaked and twisted Ed's nipples; the big guy, driven to distraction by the superior cock sucking and tit torture, began to thrash about like someone who had received a few thousand volts up the ass. A tingling at the base of his heavy balls announced his imminent orgasm.

    "He's gonna cum real soon!" Jeff gasped, he dug his fingers into Ed's thighs as he worked on his hardened dick Larry became a single minded cock sucking machine, his mouth a warm, insistent pump. He could taste the seminal nectar that preceded orgasm and its flavour maddened him even more. He gulped down the entire flesh pole until his spread lips were pressed against Ed's lush pubic bush then he pulled back, letting the tool slip out until only the purple head was in his mouth. Then he swallowed up the dick again, licking, nibbling,lapping and sucking with such fervour that the hollows of his cheeks were like deep craters. Ed squinted, gripped the arms of the chair, raised his ass and fed Larry his salty cream.

    Some of the stuff seeped out of the corners of Larry's mouth but he made no attempt to wipe it up. He peered up at Ed, his eyes narrowed with animal lust, Ed's dick still lodged in his mouth. Jeff played with Ed's tits but he worked them more gently now, lightly pressing the hard nipples between his thumb and index finger but then he winked at Larry who opened his jaws and let loose the deflating cock.

    "Well," he said briskly, "Now that that's out of the way, let's get you dressed and see you on your way and don't try to rob us again."

    "Hey Larry he's just shot his load and that means he'll soon be living a nightmare that you don't want to miss and I sure don't as his feet smell awesome, real addictive and I really have to taste 'em, don't deprive me buddy" said Jeff

    "I thought you'd never ask, go on buddy, gimme a show and cowboy get ready for hell as Jeff here is gonna drive you crazy like you never felt before" responded Larry

    The ranchers looked at each other and then Jeff knelt on the floor on line with both of Ed's big, sweaty sensitive feet and very gently began stroking both soles, Ed the cowboy's reaction was immediate making them both smile!

    Last edited by zanadu; January 24th, 2013 at 07:28 AM.

  17. #17
    Slut gtru1981's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2005

    Code of Conduct

    Re: Easy Money!

    this is a hot story!

  18. #18

    Connor's Compromise!

    "My feet are fuckin' burning up in these shoes. You know Connors the thing about tight laced up shoes worn all day in the office is they really don't let your feet breathe. I
    mean, they don't let any air reach your feet at all and Connors that's really gonna suck for you as my size 13's get real niffy in my thin black nylon socks but you have been caught by Myers here trying to embezzle the company and we figured you'd not want the law around your door so we'd deal out our own kind of justice.

    Walt Styler and Geoff Myers smiled at the handsome 6' senior company accountant Tony Connors 28 yrs old and looking much like a young Al Pacino, dark Italian looks from his Mother lying naked on his back on the C.E.O.'s office carpet as he cringed hearing this.

    "That's right, mother-fucker, it's been, like, what...90-some degrees today so I would not
    want to be where you are right now.”

    Walt 34 yrs old telling Connors his feet are going to be right in his face soon signals to Geoff to sit on Tony's legs to keep him still, something 29yr old Geoff does happily as Walt unlaces his own shoes.

    "I guarantee it'll be a living hell for you trapped under these feet Connors, you will so want to get up?” this said to further Tony's humiliation trapped under Geoff's weight he couldn't move. Geoff had pulled Tony's toes back on his right size 11 bare foot and lightly trailed his
    fingers along the sole, gently stroking the arch and under the toes making his victim squirm and laugh

    "STOHAHAHAHAHAP PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE," Connors begged but was ignored as Geoff did the same with his left foot getting a similar instant reaction

    Walt smiled as his shoes off he told Geoff to stop the tickles for now and told Connors to get ready to suffer and not to dare hold his breath or his feet would be tickle tortured until he was breathless. Resigned to his fate Connors saw both socked feet descend towards him, both incredibly hot n' wet and then they planted there and Walt pushed both feet flat and relaxed with a deep sigh. Geoff enjoying deeply sniffing at Connor's feet and toes having found the married executive very attractive and fantasized about his feet and now not being disapponted by them and their rich aroma!

    "You like that Connors, my stinking feet on your face huh” Connors said nothing but listened in shame as his Boss continued to tease and degrade him.

    “So, what do you think Connors? You enjoying yourself down there? I hope this isn't too much for you, because the worst is yet to come.” Walt said wiggling his toes while wiping and rubbing his socked feet over every square inch of his employee's face. His socks so drenched in sweat that they glided across his face with ease leaving a trail of heat and moisture.

    "Connors it must absolutely suck right now to be you,” Walt said with a laugh, his socked foot sweat saturating Connor's face as he continued breathing in his rank foot odor. Walt's socks looked felt and smelled utterly disgusting from Connor's position beneath them.

    Momentarily both feet lifted off Connor's face but then came the instruction he dreaded and guessed would be coming

    "Take my socks off, bitch." and initially Connor showed reluctance to obey so Geoff spider-tickled both Connor's soles simultaneously thighs making him go crazy.


    He quickly did as ordered. Walt's bare feet hung above his face again Walt placed both bare feet flat on Connor's face ensuring both his maximum comfort and Connor's total, complete
    degradation but the tickling stopped for a while. Walt's feet absolutely reeked, in fact, everything about his bare feet from their intense heat, to their sickening smell, to the excess of sweat all but dripping from them being similar to what he'd experienced lying under his socked feet only much worse. Walt sadistically enjoying making a point of wiggling his dirty wet toes while rubbing, wiping, and smearing his feet all over Connor's face. He then spread his toes wide, fanning them out before shoving the gaps between each of his toes directly against Connor's nostrils. The smell agonizing as Walt rubbed the gaps between his toes against Connor's nostrils in circular, upward motions – one by one, gap by gap, slowly and methodically. He rubbed his nasty bare feet all over Connor's face as he winked at Geoff who began sucking Connor's toes, Walt's feet rubbling up and down Connor's face and verbally degradiing him at the same time saying

    "I seriously don't see how you can let me do this to you. I mean, I don't see how anyone could let someone else do this to them. Think about it Connors, your wife's at home knowing you're working overtime as you told her on the call earlier and here you are workin' hard to please and amuse your Boss and a business colleague you normally do all you can to avoid knowing that Gay he fancies you and your Boss has his sweaty, dirty, nasty-ass bare feet all over your face and the queer has hold of your bare feet and is intent on raping them having a raging foot fetish as I know so well but I'm not ticklish but you sure are and Ilove seeing you suffer! Look at where you are right now! Look at what I'm doing to you...what you're letting me do to you! It's fuckin' sickening! My feet totally smell like shit! I can barely stand the smell from up here, so I can't imagine what it must be like to be lying down there, now get to it suck my toes like Geoff's been sucking yours or he'll tickle the fuck out of them both!"

    Connors complied and did as ordered immedaitely having to tell his Boss how both feet tasted extremely salty and felt very hot and wet with sweat, he had to lick between each of Walt's toes and clean the tops, sides, soles, and heels of both feet with his tongue. Walt laughing and taunting him the entire time before resting both feet in Connor's face. Geoff who had stopped tickling and licking and sucking Connor's toes and soles, massaged both feet sensually as Walt told him to as Connor's was told to jerk himself off or be made to tongue bath both Walt's socks. reluctantly gripped his 7" and brought himself off to his Boss's amusement but then Walt saying to him that having shot his load, his feet would be horribly sensitive winked at Geoff who soon was scribbling his fingers all over Connor's feet mercilessly and nibbling them and sucking all of his toes as he begged him to stop

    "NOHAHAAHAHAHA MORAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!!" Connor's soon gave up pleading with Geoff and opted instead for the only other alternative, throwing his head back and laughing his ass off. He was on the verge of passing out when the torment ended but so long as he doesn't want the cops involved, to be charged and convicted and imprisoned he plays the game and it's been three months since the initiating event; the one described here took place and Walt loves having his feet serviced and Geoff enjoys tormenting, teasing and torturing their ticklish toy as much now as he did then for the first time and to spice things up sometimes other colleagues are invited to participate.

  19. #19

    Sensation Overload for Agent 007

    “My name is Captain Ishiro Koto” the man explained as he stood beside the captive British Agent 007, “and you appear to find yourself in a vulnerable position Mr.Bond Is that not so?” Smiling the Japanese interrogator Koto moved to the foot end of the table and seated himself on the wheeled stool at the spies bare size 12 feet. Looking up and smiling at the British secret Agent he menacingly winked at him as he seemed to sniff both feet.

    “While knocked out Mr. Bond I took the liberty of stripping you to your boxers” Koto said as he inserted the toe spreaders, “I would expect that you know your weakness is known to me which is why I am sat here Mr. Bond by these two fine masculine feet which have a powerful manly aroma that so much appeals to me and legs apart you are so
    vulnerable and helpless for my enjoyment, you see torture Mr. Bond can be both a pain and also a real pleasure!"

    The Agent shuddered as the Japanese interrogator leaned over both secured feet and inhaled them deeply and then he picked up the pinpoint vibrator and turned it on as James’s eyes grew wide with panic. He told him that he did not intend to hurt him, that device in his hand a pinpoint vibrator designed to stimulate and tease and he gently but firmly took hold of James’s left foot, holding it with his fingers on top and his thumb at the ball of the foot. Although James tried to move his foot, it was not possible. Even the toe spreaders held his toes perfectly still and separated by a quarter of an inch or so. Koto moved the pointed tip of the vibrator into the space behind the toe spreader adjacent to James's second toe and touched it the skin right where the ball of his foot met the
    roots of the toes.

    “Please, no-ho-ho-ho-ho, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, no-ha-ha!”

    Koto continued to tickle the left foot behind each toe and then moved on to the right foot for a similar evil treatment, spending about fifteen minutes on both feet. He then returned to 007's left foot and tickled the soft curve beneath each toe with a fudo brush and then again continued to his right foot.He worked in silence and diligently as he explored all over both feet and made a point of inhaling their natural smell humiliating the Agent known for being a ladiesman. Finally he gave the Agent a chance to rest and recover his breath.

    “Aaaaaaaaaah” “No-ahaha-ha-ha,” James Bond yelled as Koto mencingly touched the tip of the vibrator to the sole of the left foot, right at the mouth of the little groove in the ball of the foot, where it met the soft sole,

    “Ha-ha-ha,plee-hee-heese, a-ha-ha-ha!”

    For another half hour Koto continued to tickle the soles of both feet with the pinpoint vibrator while Agent 007 laughed and screamed with tears running down his face. He couldn't even gather the breath to plead anymore. All he knew by now was laughter, and agony, as the tickling continued. Koto stopped the tickling to allow 007 to recover his breath again.

    "Mr. Bond the macho British Agent ticklish as a kitten and the ladies man, we will see as I use this now"

    Koto picked up the other vibrator with the attached anal stimulator and held it up for 007 to see. He explained, it being a special kind of vibrator which will bring him to many orgasms and these orgasms will feel like nothing he'd ever known because of this little device on the side that will enter slightly into his anus and tickle it into a frenzy.”

    “Please, no,” 007 pleaded, desperately trying to move, “Don't do this to me. Please.”

    Koto put some oil on his fingers and massaged 007's asshole as he brought the vibrating dildo into place. The Agent begged and pleaded as he felt the vibrator slid into his hole. When it was partway into him Koto began to stroke 007's dick with his oil-soaked fingers. oo7 tried with all his might to squeeze his anus shut but it took only a minute or so for it to relax as his concentration gave focus to his dick involuntarily reacting to being stroked. He then felt the tickling begin inside his hole.

    “Aaaaaaaaah,” he screamed as Koto turned the device on. Agent 007 trying to move and buck as his dick was stimulated and his anus was tickled. He didn't know whether to laugh or scream as the torment continued to drive him closer and closer into a frenzied orgasm. 007 shuddered at the double intensity, more intense than he ever imagined possible.

    Even as he was edged though, the device did not stop and Koto teasingly stroked the Agent's balls and it began to build another orgasm inside him even before the first one ended. Master Koto turned off the erotic device which had driven 007 to the limits of his endurance. He was exhausted and throughout Koto stroking his dick and balls with oiled fingers but denying him relief the Agent deperate to cum but denied this.

    After ten minutes rest Koto clapped his hands and into the underground interrogation chamber came six guards. James Bond speaking no Japanese could not fathom out what was being said but from their smiles knew it wasn't good and then he was made blindfold and suddenly began squirming sensing the wetness as he felt tongues licking the soles of his feet and nibbling his toes, expert tongues starting orally assaulting his insteps and moving over the balls of his feet to in between and under all his toes.As he struggled and fought against his bonds fists clenched and arms tied above his head the tickling continued to both his bare armpits being licked and his nipples pinched but then another two tongues operating, a tongue snaking along his anus hole and all over his balls and another licking
    his dick very gently and torturously. He felt disgusted and helpless and vulnerable as other guys and all in their late teens were clearly on a mission they intended on being successful.

    The tickling seemed to be a timed exercise as after ten minutes it stopped for a short while to allow him to get back his breath but then it again continued and then stopped and started and stopped and started in a repeated pattern which was driving the Agent
    slowly insane. The tongues ensuring that James's attention to the tickling sensations could never focus on just one area of his fit physique as the intensity of the oral assaults varied but the guys licking his feet seemed to be the most industrious ticklers of them all but what he could not see was that constantly the men changed places with each other so the tickling techniques became variable but the result the same, it was torture!

  20. #20

    Army Medical

    Gerry the handsome Irish soldier had to attend the statutory physical and medical with Dr. Clark if he wanted to be deemed fit to be deployed to Afghansitan. The 6' soldier had no idea that the rookie he and other soldiers taunted was the doctor's favourite nephew and would be taught a lesson he would never speak of or risk being disciplined himself for bullying.

    In the medical room and an appointment deliberately arranged by the doctor to be in the late evening so nobody was around, Gerry obeyed the doctor who asked him to strip and he then got on the medical examination table wearing just his briefs. Then a process of expected tests began: weight, temperature, reflexes which proved effective though not made much of at the preliminary stage of the examination. Gerry's medical history briefly discussed.
    His briefs clung tightly to his muscular thighs and hugged his groin as Gerry lay on the table and began feeling slightly self-conscious.

    He looked up suddenly, startled and bewildered as the doctor began attaching some sort of medical stirrups to the table near his legs.

    "What's the deal with those, Doc?"

    Apparently, it was a new test according to Dr. Clark. A brand new standard added to physical examinations. It wasn't at all painful he reassured Gerry but it required him to be absolutely still. The doctor needed to restrain his arms and his legs.

    "Are you sure I can't just lie still?"

    No, that wouldn't do at all, the doctor stated kindly but there was no need to worry about it and it wouldn’t take long. Gerry was a little nervous but didn't intend
    to show it. He lay back and tried to relax, and put his arms at his sides as the doctor said. The doctor tightened some straps around his wrists, immobilising his arms, and then helped Chris's legs into the stirrups.

    It took only a moment for him to strap his ankles into these, leaving Gerry immobilised with his legs raised up and apart.The doctor smiled inwardly as he surveyed the hunky body of the fit soldier. Full, firm muscles covered the arms, chest and legs; evidence of physical fitness and a healthy diet. Gerry's groin, hidden beneath
    the boxers did not appear to be bulging much - but there was still potential where that was concerned.

    Now, what to do next? It surprised the doctor that this young man would so willingly put himself at the helpless mercy of a stranger just because he wore a white coat. Needless to say, it was a trust he'd enjoy abusing.

    “Gerry earlier you responded immediately but now I need to more thoroughly check your skin sensitivity – a very important test, I'm sure you can imagine, for an active soldier who must not betray any form of weakness which could be used against him by the enemy if caught. First we need to hone your senses, so I'm going to blindfold you.”

    Gerry looked puzzled at this and then increasingly concerned as the doctor took a strip of cloth from a drawer and began blindfolding him.

    "What are you doing, Doc? I've never heard of any test like this before!"

    The doctor bent down to Chris' ear once he had finished tying the blindfold.

    "You're right Gerry! This isn't a test. In fact, I have all the information I need to clear you for the deployment which I will sign medical approval of when I have finished playing with you as you and others verbally torment my nephew Andrew Carey so remembering your reaction to my finger touching the sole of your right foot earlier .. tell me Gerry; are you ticklish?"

    Gerry leapt against his restrains in sudden panic.

    "What? What are you talking about? Let me go, right now! What are yo-AHAHAHAHAhahahahahahahaha Nonononono!!!"

    The doctor had begun to tickle Gerry's ribs with his fingers, one hand on each side. He followed each rib across his chest, tickling continuously, and then returned to his sides. Gerry screamed and shrieked but to no avail, the doctor had ensured they would be quite alone. There was no one to hear his loud laughter as the doctor tortured him.

    Taking his time Dr. Clark slid his fingers down to Gerry's belly button, where he made gentle circles with his index finger. Then he pulled a cotton wool bud from a drawer and used it to probe Gerry's' belly button further, flicking it in and out repeatedly. Restrained and blindfolded, Gerry could do nothing but squirm and scream as his sensitive skin was assaulted. The doctor laughed gleefully.

    "It seems that you are very ticklish Gerry! Are you enjoying this?"

    He stopped tickling Gerry for a moment, giving him time to catch his breath. After a few desperate gulps of air, Gerry began swearing angrily and threatening violence once he was released. The doctor ignored him, looking instead with interest at Chris' groin. Beneath the tight briefs and clear changes were occurring. A definite stirring and signs of movement and the emergence of a rather thick bulge. The doctor rubbed his hands with satisfaction and waited for a brief pause in Gerry' tirade of abuse.

    “Now, now, Gerry – let's remain calm and polite, shall we? I'm not going to do you any harm, I promise. I'm just going to have some fun with you and piss you off as you do my nephew.” “Looking at your briefs,
    it certainly appears that you're enjoying this. Which reminds me, I haven't quite completed a full physical exam. Any good doctor should ensure that a young man's jewels are in good working order, don't you think? I'd better take a look at your manhood whilst I'm about it Gerry?”

    Gerry began shouting at Dr. Clark again and pulling at his restraints but of course it made no difference and beneath blindfold, all the soldier could do was wait and curse at his predicament. He felt the touch of cold metal across his thigh and groin, accompanied by a snipping noise. Scissors! A second snip and he felt the fabric around his thighs slide off; now he was entirely exposed, helpless and vulnerable! Dr. Clark looked excitedly at Gerry's dick which was fully erect,

    "Now Gerry I first need to check your genitals to make sure they are fit and healthy. This won't take a moment."

    With that he cupped Gerry's big balls and gave them a gentle squeeze, then carefully rolled each nut between his fingers. Then he traced his fingers around the back of the sack and across Gerry's perineum,
    examining him intently. He made a circular motion on the back of the balls with his finger, gently teasing. Gerry was embarrassed and humiliated as his private parts were fondled. Without comment the doctor ran his fingers up both sides of the rock hard shaft to the head, and gently slid back the foreskin. His fingers touched
    lightly across the sensitive surface, then up and down the shaft twice more. The effect was Gerry breathing more heavily and gasping. His cock was twitching with excitement. The doctor closed his fingers around Gerry's 7" dick as much as he could, but it really was very thick - his fingers didn't quite encircle the throbbing shaft. He began a very slow pumping motion, sliding the taut foreskin back and forth over the head. Gerry a ladies man growled in violated anger as the doctor played with him, tickling the fat shaft with his fingers.

    "Yes, you're definitely enjoying this Gerry but there's something else I need to do before we go further." said Dr. Clark.

    He turned away to another drawer and returned with some lubricant and a thin, six inch rod.

    "Let's make sure the pipe is clear, eh?"

    Gerry couldn't see what was happening but he felt the cold lube dribble over the head of his penis, and fingers stroking his dick very gently, infuriatingly ticklish deliberately but Dr. Clark soon faced Gerry's size 12 feet which were warm and sweaty. He pulled a feather from his coat and went to work on his soles. Gerry went berserk, screaming with laughter and wildly jerking against the restraints. There was no escape, of course, and the doctor continued without mercy.

    Chris flailed and screamed, begging for him to stop. He began drooling slightly, and his balls bounced up and down excitedly. Eventually, the doctor stopped and allowed him some time to rest.

    "Take a moment to catch your breath Gerry, I'm going to tickle your dick n' balls next."

    Gerry moaned and whimpered helplessly. He had never had his balls or dick tickled before and he feared they would be just as sensitive as the rest of his body. All the tickling, combined with the teasing, had made him very eager to cum himself.

    "What I have here Gerry is a small vibrator. Now, I know that women normally love these things but I've found that it can have a rather impressive effect on helpless, horny young soldier ! Shall we see?"

    Gerry had no time to answer; he felt the tip of the narrow vibrator running over one of his balls. It was an odd sensation to begin with as the vibrations flowed through -
    and then it began to tickle him mercilessly!
    He began to go berserk and the doctor wondered if the table would be strong enough to hold Gerry or not but it did and Dr. Clark was free to continue his teasing. The vibrator affected every inch of Gerry's balls, which seemed to have swollen with all the attention. The vibrator also moved up and down his shaft and pressed against his cockhead.

    Screams and moans alternated at high pitch as the doctor assaulted Gerry's twitching dick and balls with the buzzing tool until Gerry thought he was going to go insane. However it got worse, Dr. Clark lay the vibrator down firmly on Gerry's sack, between his loaded nuts, then grabbed the feather and began brushing his cock. The chorus of desperate sounds from the
    patient was music to his ears.

    Chris, unable to see or move, could do nothing except vocalise as he felt his
    manhood teased. His balls bounced against the tickling tool and his dick jerked under the careful feather that sought out every centimetre for teasing. Soon precum began to drip from the head.

    "Time to finish up, Gerry! Well, nearly, anyway," laughed the doctor as Gerry begged him to stop the torture and even pleaded for the doctor to make him cum.

    “Stop it Doc, I can't take any more tickling! I need to cum, please, please, let me cum!” The doctor chuckled even more gleefully, and his voice took on a mocking tone.

    "Oh, you want to spill your load, eh? A good idea Gerry, those testicles look far too full of spunk to be healthy! Why, they could positively burst!"

    Gerry then horrified as he felt more lubricant around his dick and then a strange, hard something encircled his shaft. The blindfold was removed, revealing
    some kind of clear cylinder around Chris's horny dick.

    "It's a milking machine," said the doctor, "I made it myself! I've tested it a few times, and it's really quite effective. It'll make you cum eventually!"

    "What do you mean, eventually?!" cried Gerry.

    The doctor flicked the switch to turn the machine on. Instantly Gerry felt the pressure suction around his member, and the cylinder began pumping slowly up and down his dick
    on a wave of lube.

    "Oh, Oh.... Awwwww!!" Gerry moaned loudly and repeatedly as the machine slowly pleasured his manhood. The doctor leaned against the counter and smiled, watching. The machine kept pumping, and Chris soon
    found himself ready to cum. His balls tightened and his dick jerked, and he prepared for ecstasy.

    "Yeah, oh yeah, oh YE- whaaaat?!"

    The machine stopped, leaving him on the verge of orgasm. Gerry turned to the doctor, who smiled.

    "I told you it would get you there eventually Gerry but it will take a little while, unless I help. Right now I'm enjoying the view."

    Gerry shouted angrily once more, swearing at the doctor and threatening him with even more violence. As the machine began pumping his shaft again it teased Gerry horribly for the next twenty minutes.
    Repeatedly, and rapidly, it brought him back to the edge of orgasm and then left him there. Gerry bucked hard against the restraints, willing his body to cum, but to no avail. Gerry's pleading grew and grew in pitch, volume and desperation and finally
    Dr. Clark decided to allow Gerry release and relief and pulled the feather out again and began tickling Gerry's overloaded balls intensely.

    "NO, NO, THAT WASN'T WHAT I WANTED!!!" yelled Gerry.

    The doctor ignored him soon Gerry felt certain that his balls would explode under the combined pressures within. He could swear he felt the spunk in his nuts churning around, filling every bit of space within. For another five minutes the machine toyed with him and the feather never stopped tickling, driving him crazy as his hugely sensitive sack was tortured. And then, at long last....


    The whole table shook as the dam burst, and Gerry's balls pumped their entire contents through his big dick in repeated spurts of thick, molten cum. Gerry orgasmed for a solid minute and then fell back into the restraints, completely spent. Dr. Clark then said to Gerry that the signed papers meant his deployment likely within the week as he added having cum that he was sure he'd be horribly licklish and from now on no more bullying Andrew Carey but to make certain that he understood this his sweaty smelly feet ought to be cleaned!

    "Nooooohahahastooopheeheeheehahaha!" he was helpless and suffered as all his toes were sucked and licked under them all, in between them all and along both soles for the next hour and papers medically signed and approved once the bogus medical examination had been fully completed!

  21. #21

    First Timer

    Greg went to the guys house, the handsome lad having spoken with Piers twice on line was anticipating meeting. Wearing a white singlet and tight black bleachers and D.M. boots he sported black nail varnish and black n' white striped socks. On arrival Piers having made him remove his size 11 boots. Both watched a D.V.D. and Piers had his arm wrapped around his 20yr old guest so the 26 yr old making Greg feel relaxed. I The movie was a horror and whenever something bad was going to happen, Greg nestled closer to Piers as they both enjoyed a couple of cans of lager. Piers stroked Gregs dark hair soothingly, he liking his Gothic look which complimented his Italian roots, Georgio his real name but known as Greg.

    Eventually the movie finished and Piers and he both a little tipsy went to the bedroom and Piers said

    “I thought that maybe we could do some vanilla sex or would you prefer to go straight into bondage?”

    “Maybe…I don’t know, maybe just light bondage to start.” Greg said fiddling with his hands and averting his eyes. Piers lifted Greg's head up with his hand under his chin and kissed him. As he kissed him he slowly began to lift up the singlet and lift it over Greg's shoulders. He cuffed Greg's hands behind his back, unzipped him and pulled his bleachers down and off so Greg was in his black briefs and knee high socks. Piers started running his hands over Greg's body, caressing him as he lay on his stomach on the bed. me. Light caresses making Greg fight squirming as then he felt his feet being placed in stocks and secured. Piers ran his his hands along Greg' s shaved thighs which really teased him but he lay as still as possible.

    Piers moved to the end of the bed and faced the socked soles smelling their warm, musky scent from the one days worn socks loving sniffing them making Greg uneasy.
    He raised his head trying to plead with Piers not to do this as he was embarrassed as he knew after working in the hair salon on his feet all day they'd stink. Piers sniffed the warm musky smell for like 5 minutes and he could feel the dampness of his socks on his nose and loved it.

    He then lifted the stocks but talking of sucking Greg's dick and balls made him turn on his back and secured his feet again and peeled both socks down but smiling at Greg then proceeded to slide his fingers inside his socks wiggling them slowly as Greg went crazy. His feet twitching and straining to get away but to no avail.

    "Mmmm love these stinky, sweaty feet and ticklish too Greg huh, even better and you all bound down for me!"

    Greg was pissed off as Piers continued to sniff the toes of his socked feet and then he stopped and went to the bathroom and returned with a dirty black nylon sock of his own that he gagged Greg with.

    "Worn in the office today, enjoy the smell and taste "Bondage Boy"

    Greg responding in a muffled voice saying "Noooooooooooo nooooooooooo please"
    at the first stroke on his helpless socked feet sent him insane. His feet wiggled like crazy but then after ten minutes Piers peeled off both socks slowly tickling Greg's feet at the same time and he pulled his toes back which gave him greater access to his sensitive soles. He dragged his fingers up and down both soles and also stroked Greg's dick to make it erect at the same time saying he was going to enjoy torturing him fiendishly and Greg did not doubt it! Piers found stroking under Greg's toes a killer so concentrated on working all over the toes on both his feet underneath them and in between liking the fact his toe nails were also meticulously painted with black nail varnish. They were sweaty and smelled awesome to Piers. Greg hated his feet being messed with so interspersed with laughter were muffled protests and curses!

    Piers would stop the foot tickling to then stroke at Greg's balls and dick getting him really excited even sucking his dick and licking his balls but when he sensed Greg ready to explode easing off every now and then and working on his feet again. The switch drove Greg mad. He then deviously taped feathers to the inside of Greg's thighs
    and either side of his hardened dick. Then he proceeded to tickle Greg's feet more and more. The feathers did their work as he hoped teasing Greg as he squirmed from the tickling torment. Greg couldn't control himself and came over and over again.
    The more Piers tickled his feet the more and more his cock would strain against the feathers.

    Worse then Piers tested out using a feather to tickle Greg's feet for a reaction which was instant, he went wild! Greg was beggng Piers to stop as he sawed the feather between his toes and ran the quill end along both soles. In turn as he squirmed this allowing the other feathers to tickle, tease torment his dick n' balls so the tickling was intense!

    Greg came over and over again bucking between each cum, as the feathers would stimulate every nerve in his body between erections. Piers found several instruments that night to use on Greg’s feet torturing them over and over again. When he tired of his feet and not to de-ticklefy them, he would move up and attack his helpless pits so the bed was soon enough soaked with his sweat and a total mess from all his struggling. Even when not furiously tickling his feet, running a finger up n' down both soles making him buck and squirm. Over the night he used a hairbrush, toothbrush,
    feathers, tongue and fingers and the worst sensation was the most gentle when having licked both feet all over, using the saliva as a lubricant Piers gently rubbed both feet from heels to toes and underneath all toes!
    By morning Greg was a tickled wreck and left the house worn out, totally exhausted!

  22. #22


    Three double-one six eight...

    Mark? It's Ryan.

    Oh Hi Ryan. Hang on, let me turn the TV down.... Ok. How ya doing mate? Oh, and Happy Birthday! it is today, isn't it?

    Yeah, thanks. And I'm good. You ok?

    Could be worse. So what's new?

    Got a job that could be interesting.

    Yeah? Tell me about it.

    Was in the Spider's Web last night. You remember Damien?

    Damien... is that the weird guy with the pony tail and tattoos?

    Yep, that's the one. Well, I was standing at the bar with Paul and Baz, and Damien comes up to me. Can he have a quiet word?


    Apparently there's this boy who's been pestering the fuck out of Damien for weeks. Youngish kid, nineteen, twenty - straight, so far, so he says, no experience - and the usual story: turned on by leather, and wants to be dominated. And the kid's cute. Well you know Damien, he's into bears and Harleys - so this kid's not his type of thing at all.

    Why didn't he just tell the kid to piss off?

    He did. Several times. But he says this kid is fucking arrogant, thinks he's sex on legs. Damien reckons he needs 'introducing' to a few things to take him down a peg. He won't leave Damien alone - and Damien is getting seriously pissed off with him. He made the mistake of giving the kid his phone number when he first met him, and he rings at all hours.

    I see. So what's this kid like? What's he into? What's his name, by the way?

    His name's Brandon. I haven't seen him, but Damien says we'd wet our knickers. 6'1", blond, blue-eyed, cute and a six-pack. As for what he's into, Damien says he's a total beginner, but Brandon says he's 'into everything'.

    Hmm. Dangerous thing to say.


    Ok. So what's this to do with you and me?

    Well, Damien wondered if you and I might fancy doing a kidnap. Reckons we cold have fun with this kid, show him what can happen to a boy alone in a playroom with two experienced tops, and hopefully get him out of Damien's hair at the same time.

    Mmm. You're right, this could be interesting. I like taking cute, sexy boys down.

    I know you do. That's why I told Damien I'd ring you.

    Ok - so how do we do this? I've never done a kidnap before.

    Well, Damien can set up a 'meeting' with him any time we like - and anywhere we like.

    Good. Ok - so let's think... how about we get Damien to set it up for the lane at the side of the rubbish tip? Say around 8-ish? It's quiet and dark there by that time of night, and we can park the van out of sight behind the big skip.

    Excellent. Ok - now what do we want to do with this boy? For a start, we want to get him as horny as fuck during the kidnapping itself. Don't make it too quick. Give him time to realize what's going on, and that we've got him. The boy says he wants to be dominated, and he's well into leather, so we'll wear full leathers, boots, tight gloves, masks -

    - And crash helmets. That'd probably be a turn on for a victim.

    Yeah! Let's wear the tightest gear we've got - really turn the fucker on when we get him.

    How are we gonna get him? he's not going to be expecting to get kidnapped, so we're gonna have to cut him off, so he can't run back down the lane. He can't get out the sides - it's fenced. We need one of us up the lane hiding, in front of him, and the other coming up behind him.

    Yeah. Ok - so you get behind that tree on the right. You know it? 'Bout halfway up. Big thing.

    I know it. Ok - I'm waiting there. How we gonna get him? We'd better silence him first, then get him restrained, and drag him to the van.

    Yes. How about this: I'll find somewhere to hide further down, so he passes me first before he gets to you.

    Yeah - not too far down - just a few paces. I think there's some kind of litter bin or something there, isn't there?

    You're right. Big blue thing with a black roof on it. No - I'll tell you what it is, it's one of those bottle bank things, with holes in where you put the bottles through.

    That's it! That's perfect! Ok - as soon as he passes you, you come out behind him, hand-gag him, and hold him. I'll come out in front of him and between us we'll get him tied up.

    Or how about hooding him? If I drop a hood over his head from behind him, that would do it.

    Hmm... I'd like him to be able to see us a bit longer first. Seeing us in our tight black leathers, masks and helmets will blow his mind, and knowing he stands no chance against us...

    True, Mark. Ok. I'll gag him and hold him, you come up in front of him and let him see the hood before you force it over his head.

    Yeah, I like that. Think you can hold him while I walk up slowly and hood him?

    No problem. I'll be behind him, and he won't be ready for it.

    Ok - great!

    Ok, so we've got him hooded. Now what?

    I think we'll use the plastic strip cuffs. They're dead quick to put on. Once he's hooded, get him on the ground, face down. You kneel on him, and get his arms cuffed behind his back. I'll tie his legs together at the ankles and knees with rope while you're doing that. It'll stop him being able to struggle while you're doing his arms.

    Will the hood cut down enough of the noise he'll be making?

    Oh yeah. No problem.

    Ok. So we've got him helpless. Now just drag him to the van?

    Yeah, don't see why not. We'll leave the rear doors open so we can shove him straight in the back. You get in with him, I'll close the doors and drive the van. Once you're in, you can hogtie him properly. Keep him hooded, and make sure it doesn't come off. Lock it on.

    Ok. Take the scenic route back so that he can't remember the way.

    Yep. Which hood should we use?

    Well, if he's into leather, how about the loose bag hood? That's very quick to get on him, and it's got shiny leather on the inside...

    Hehe - they all have.


    But yeah, the bag-hood is good. Use that.

    Right - I love that one too. Do you want to use your place or mine?

    This boy is going to be struggling, so probably best to use here - it'll be easier to get him into my playroom from the van. We'll probably be carrying him.

    You're right. Ok - so we've got him back to yours. Leave the garage door open so you can drive straight in. I'll hop out and close the garage door, then we can take our time getting him out and drag him kicking and screaming into the house.

    Yeah. Let's have him between the vertical posts first. We'll spreadeagle him there, take his hood off, and he can get a good look at us before we start working on him.

    Like it.

    That's a thought - what's he going to be wearing?

    Damien says that whenever he's seen him he's always been wearing tight faded jeans, a muscle teeshirt and a leather jacket and hi-tops no sox

    Okay.... so we'll put him straight between the posts. Get the thick fingerless leather mitts over his hands, leather cuffs, and clip them to the posts. Once that's done we can get the ankle cuffs on him, with ropes through the bottom rings on the posts, untie his legs and pull the cuffs tight to the posts. That way he won't be able to kick.

    What if he struggles too much for us to get the mitts on or his arms up?

    Just pull the hood tight around his neck and clamp your hand over his mouth. Cut off his air for a few seconds. He'll get the idea.

    Oh fuck! Yeah! Excellent. Shit - I'm getting horny about this!

    Me too Ryan. When we've got him helpless between the posts, we can take our helmets off, make sure our ski-masks are in place, and take his hood off.

    I'm looking forward to seeing his face when he sees us!

    You and me both, mate. We can walk around him, have a look at him, and generally grope him for a while. If he's wearing underpants we'll undo his jeans, cut them off him and fasten his jeans back up and get his hi - tops off, love teen lad foot stink!

    Oh yeah I know you kinky perve ! I think it would be good if we don't talk to him at all - just talk about him to each other. As if he wasn't there, sort of thing.

    Brilliant. Yes, I like that. Humiliate him from the start. Ignore anything he says. Even if he baits us, spits at us, completely ignore it.


    Ok, Ryan. Now - we're supposed to be teaching this boy a bit of a lesson, and humiliating him, yeah? So what I suggest is that once we've had him between the posts for a while, we get him on the padded restraint table, face up - be best to hood him again while we move him, make it more difficult for him to fight us - spreadeagle him on the table, but fasten his feet to a 2ft spreader bar and his wrists to another one, and lift them two or three feet off the table, on chains. Keep him fairly stretched, but not tight. Then a good thick strap over his waist and under the table to keep him down in the middle. Then make him cum. Straight away. No messing. Bring him off. Make him cum in his jeans. I did that to a guy a few weeks ago in that position, and he said he felt intensely helpless cos he could struggle, but there was nothing for him to push against, his arms and feet were suspended from the chains.

    You want to make him cum straight away?

    Yes - for several reasons: for a start, it'll humiliate the fuck outta him - especially if we make him cum in his jeans, he'll have to go home in them - and also whatever we do after that is going to be less horny and more frightening for him, for a while anyway. It'll really establish that we're in control of him and we can do any fucking thing we want to him.

    Oh fuck! That is fiendish. You're brilliant. How do we make him cum?

    Hands all over him. Open his leather jacket, work on his nipples, his arse, thighs, legs - everywhere. I'll bring my irresistible vibrator.

    I've heard about that thing! Why's it so irresistible?

    I've no idea. It just seems to make lads cum. Just have to hold it on the head of a boy's cock - it works best through denim or rubber - and he's shooting in seconds flat.

    Oh shit. Ok - we'll bring him off as quickly as we can. What then?

    Tickle him!


    Have you ever been tickled straight after you've cum?

    Er.. no...

    Well make sure you never are. It is fucking unbearable!

    I bet it is! Even the thought of that is making me shudder. I'm as ticklish as hell. He's going to be hooded for all this, isn't he?

    Yes. Hmmm. When we're ready to get him on to the table, we'll put your tight leather hood on him. That's a bastard, that one - it'll make him feel fucking helpless even before we start on him.

    Yeah! Ok! So, we tickle the fuck outta him.

    Yep. Again, hands everywhere. Knees, sides, ribs, armpits and I'll be merciless on his feet!... Another good thing about that position is that you can't protect yourself at all from something like that. There will be four hands working on him. He won't be able to see where we are or what we're doing. Really go for it. Make him suffer. Take advantage of the fact that he's just cum - he'll only stay hypersensitive for a few minutes. He'll be tongue ticklish so his toes will be sucked and nibbled on by me, it will drive him berserk!

    Oh fuck! Brilliant! Ok. What then? How about strapping him to the chair and wiring him up to some electrodes?

    Yes! He should be exhausted after struggling against the tickling, so he won't be difficult to move but we'll keep him hooded until we get him strapped well into the chair, just in case.

    Then take the hood off so he can see the electrodes going on.

    Exactly. Ah - we'll have to strip him before he goes on the chair.

    We can do that while he's recovering from the tickling.


    Right. Er .. we're still not talking to him?

    Not a word. We can make comments like 'Ouch, I wouldn't put that electrode there - it's gonna hurt like fuck' and the other one can say 'oh to hell with it. Let's make him suffer' or something like that.

    Oh shit, Mark, I'm as hard as a rock just thinking about this!

    Me too mate. I've been playing with myself for the last ten minutes.

    So - we zap him with electricity. Better not have it too high...

    Oh no - just so he gets the idea. We'll put your induction coil on his tits, cos you've got those safe electrodes for tits - are they for the induction coil or the pulser?

    They're for the coil.

    Ok - the coil on his tits, and I'll use the telephone generator on his balls.

    OUCH! That thing can be a bit intense.

    Yeah I know, but not if you only do it slowly - and there's something very threatening about seeing a guy holding that and turning the handle, and feeling the shocks from it...

    Oh yeah.

    The idea is not to hurt him, but just to let him know what we could do to him in a room like that.


    We can set it all up, work on him for a while, then blindfold him - that'll make it worse for him.

    Mmmmm... Shit, I want to cum, Mark.


    While we've got him in the chair we can do some breath control on him - we'll use your gasmask and the tubes. Try poppers on him, do some TT and CBT, see if he's into that - then I'll use the feathers on his feet both ends of the feather!

    We can get him hard and horny again, wanting to cum, then put him on the cum-control horse and tease his cock for a while. Not let him cum. Make the fucker beg and plead to be allowed to shoot.

    Oh YEAH! I love that fucking horse. Talking about fucking - I can fuck him while he's on there, and he can suck you off at the same time.

    Excellent. Then when we take him off that we'll get his hands cuffed behind his back and make him endure more tickling to the point he's almost crying. An electric toothbrush teasing his feet, under his toes will be hellish!

    Fuck yeah. Do we make him cum again?

    Yes. We'll hold him between us, with our leather jackets and jeans all over his body, and I'll gag him with my gloved hand and reach round and wank him off - then make him lick his spunk off your jeans.

    Oh shit I'm gonna cum, Mark.

    Oh control yourself Ryan!

    Who're you giving orders to? I'm as top as you are!

    I know. But don't cum now - let's get this sorted.

    Ok. Anyway - afterwards, we'll hood him and tie him up again and take him back to the lane in the van. He'll never know who we are or where he's been.

    Oh shit... when are we gonna do this, Ryan? I'm nearly cumming just thinking about it.

    Ha! You've got no control either Mark!


    I say we do it tonight. I'll phone Damien and get it set up.

    Go for it. Oh fuck yeah. Call him now, get him to phone Brandon and set it up, and then ring me back.

    Ok. Talk to you in a while. Bye.


    . . .

    Damien? It's me, Mark.

    Hi. Did he fall for it?

    Like a brick. You all set?

    Sure am mate. Poor Ryan.

    Poor Ryan my arse! He's gonna love it. He nearly came when we were talking about it.

    Ok. Me, Colin, and Ben will be in the lane at 7.30. Don't get there before then.

    No problem. Colin's been round to get my jeans, jacket, ski mask, crash helmet and boots. Hehe - I'd love to see Ryan's face when he realizes it's not me under that lot and he's not in my playroom and he's told me his size 12 feet are really ticklish so I'm gonna enjoy myself with them!

  23. #23

    Primary Shoot

    Chasen and Mike had completed the oral shoot, Mike stopped me to make the comment that his jaw still hurt from being open wide for so long. At the end of that shoot I had told them that I wanted to see anal next time and so that's why after 2 hr lunch break they were back in the studio. Chasen 23 yrs is straight, has a girlfriend, who doesn't know he is doing porn, and has been exploring his sexual boundaries here at "Broke straight Guys". As for Mike 24yrs, he's gay and seems to be clicking with Chasen on camera. Both of these guys have big, huge, monster cocks that could easily be used as a weapon. Mike was going to bottom for the straight cock and make $1500 for doing it and then Chasen was going to make $500 less for topping. However, if for some reason Mike couldn't handle taking the dick up his ass than Chasen was going to have to bottom.

    Chasen said that he just got a new car that
    was $16,000 and he has been using his paychecks to pay some of it down. I told them to go ahead and start by taking off their shirts, and to remain seated. Both guys were tall, Chasen 6'2" and Mike 6' 1"so with them seated we that's Dirk my camera man could watch them undress slowly. Now sitting side by side the guys took off their shoes, and when I asked Chasen his shoe size he told me 13.5 so the bigger feet, Mike size 11. I told Chasen to take off his socks so that we could see his feet, but
    he told me no. That he didn't want to, and so he left them on to do the shoot but we were paying him so the scene would soon include bondage with Chasen secured. Right now though both guys stood up to drop their shorts and under they had white briefs on. Chasen reached right in his underwear and started playing with his
    cock to get it hard.

    The plan was that Mike would start out giving oral to Chasen to get his dick stiff enough to start fucking. That's when Mike showed that he was getting nervous about taking that big of a cock in his tight asshole. I asked him if he had practiced and used a butt plug like I recommended in order to make this experience not as painful.

    Mike just said that he didn't get around to doing it, so we would just see how things go. Since the studio is isolated Dirk told Mike he could be as loud as he needed to be. Chasen said that he fucks his girlfriend in the pussy and ass all the time, and she loves every inch of his cock. That's when I told them that their underwear could come down. Mike took it upon himself to reach over and start giving head to Chasen. Once Chasen was hard Mike was able to move his mouth up and down on it pretty easy. When
    I told Mike that he would lick Chasen's balls, that got Chasen laughing because it tickled. That's when we told them there would be bondage and both now excited agreed with.

    Chasen was gagged as I approached the bed and told him when I tell him to do something he does it and though Dirk had secured him on his stomach on the bed, his feet could still move so I rubbed his black socked feet together, feeling the sweaty fabric on his feet which smelled.awesome. Mike taunted him by making Chasen sniff his sweaty white socks as we told them that the scene was a teamate being forced to sniff another teamate's socks. Mike enjoyed rubbing both his sweaty socks all over Chasen's face and the toe part really by his nostrils forcing him to smell it. I convinced him to do so lightly stroking the socked soles of Chasen's feet hearing him moan interspersed with gagged laughter liking making his feet squirm. Chasen tickled to convince him to ungagged lick Mike's socks. His cursing ignored and I made sure interrupted with more giggles.

    "Pleeeeze stooop hahahahaha tickles too much hahahahahaa!" he pleaded off camera

    "Can see why you don't want these socks off Chasen being such a tenderfoot but you are gettin' paid so you'll do as told and Mmmm love the smell of these feet, bet they taste great too!" I said taunting him

    I then began slowly massaging his feet and I soon got them really sweaty, his socked feet smelled great so next shots Mike was at his feet and he was to be punished. The camera rolling, Mike was used to all kinds of scenes, it was Chasen's first time. Mike knelt by both soles and grinned to camera as he peeled off both socks once Chasen had been gagged by Mike's socks. Mike trailed a finger all over both bound soles making Chasen really struggle to be free.
    The sensations were too much, they were making him scream and laugh and he couldn't take it but he was secured!

    Mike was then handed the feathers which he dragged back and forth right above the curve of Chasen's heels,where they start to dip into the arches, before sliding up the soles to saw directly under the bound guy's tied toes. Chasen laughed and shrieked, fully immobile and helpless to alleviate the terrible tickling his feet and toes were forced to endure. Mike soon started sawing the laughter-inducing torture tools through each set of Chasen's toes.

    Then again used his fingers, sliding them over every inch of Chasen's feet now so sweaty being naturally lubricated though menacingly as instructed Mike tongue bathed both feet nibbling all Chasen's toes driving him berserk. He nodded as the camera stopped rolling and I whispered in his ear that he now understood when he is told his Director wants his socks off he best remove them or it's forcibly done and I then enjoyed sampling their smell and taste as well as ticklishness! I maddeningly teased the nerve endings all over Chasen's feet and honed in only on the most sensitive spots, his arches and underneath his toes deliberately making my touches tortuously tickly. Then Chasen was untied as the camera was set to film again and I gave Chasen five minutes to compose himself for the final part of the movie.

    The guys got into position and Mike decided that he wanted to start out on the bed on his knees. I told Mike to breathe and just work on relaxing to make the whole experience easier. Chasen was trying to make a couple attempts at getting his dick in there. He got about an inch or two in and Mike just caved like a little baby. Since Mike wasn't going to be able to take it, it was now going to be Chasen's turn to bottom. Trading places on the bed, Chasen wanted to start out on his back with his legs up in the air. He rolled up in a little ball and spread his cheeks wide apart so that Mike could find his
    way in.

    Surprising enough Mike was able to push his cock right in and start fucking without any trouble. Mike was able to pound Chasen in the ass and make him moan with every thrust in. The more that Chasen seemed to get turned on and showed it, the harder that Mike wanted to fuck him. It was very hot to watch the two of them pound away, and Chasen at one point started to laugh as Mike began nibbling Chasen's toes. Chasen was showing to be a power bottom and it didn't seem to bother him that he was being treated like a bitch.

    Mike was so turned on that for a moment he was sucking Chasen and fucking him at the same time. The guys decided to try one more position and so Chasen got in the doggy-style position. It was obvious that this was the better position that got Mike turned on because only seconds later did he pull out about to cum. Both guys sitting on their side of the bed were busy stroking their cocks pretty fast. Mike started to moan and then he came shooting his load up his chest. Getting over Chasen with the camera, Dirk was waiting for him to start to cum. When he started shooting his load, he made a lot of noise as well. The guys did a great job, and Chasen paid an extra $100 was secured to the bed and having shot his
    powerful load was found even more ticklish
    all over his big sweaty feet even tongue ticklish as Mike relished in illustrating and off camera money talks to Chasen so often he stops by at my place in a days worn black socks to bump up his salary as an I.B.M. employee!

  24. #24

    Royal Tale

    As Peter, the Major-domo of the Imperial Russian Court, was taking his place on the stool, His Highness Prince Nicholas was taking his place on the bed. His two servants sat on the bench at the end of the bed. Peter admired Nicholas's perfect high arched feet. Peter knew from the royal shoe-maker that Nicholas's foot was a size twelve. Peter could not count the mornings that he had spent in this room. He would sneak in with the first light of the day and admire the beauty of his Prince. Now a man in his early twenties, Peter had come to appreciate the maturity of his 6'1" fit physique; the result of long hours of daily fitness training. Nicholas seldom slept beneath his ample bed coverings, even on the coldest of nights. However, when he did so, his feet would invariably poke out from the end of the coverlet, thereby providing Peter with a wonderful view with the added bonus of savouring their aroma!

    The Prince's father suspected his handsome son had a liking for men and assigned the task of determining this to Peter for if it was the case, then the crown would pass to Prince Alexei the Crown Prince Nicholas’ younger brother of the. Peter began his investigation by interviewing the two bathing maidens selected by the Emperor to bathe with his eldest son and both let Peter know that he'd seemed to have an aversion to their light touches. Peter, the Major-domo or Personal Guardian of Nicholas, had ideas of how to determine his charge’s leanings.

    Peter would see how the young heir would take to a skilful application of the tickling arts. Peter had trained his two apprentices well. Relying on the continuous influx of handsome young men caught stealing in the village square; Peter could always persuade them to "volunteer" their services in exchange for a "Pardon". So Peter and his two apprentices had spent countless hours practicing their techniques on the bare soles and hard bodies on many a young thief. The newest thieves being virile youths with a propensity for the female sex but in the stocks and their bared feet subjected to an extensive merciless tickling until they agreed to "Explore the Crown Prince’s sexuality as it being suspected the twenty-three year old royal has leanings towards men and I wish to determine the truth of the matter."

    The youths selected for their handsome looks, Ivan size 11 feet and Luka size 13 feet, they were told they would be under the guise of being loyal masseurs and their job was to draw the tickling out and the Major-domo adding that if the maidens were right and Nicholas was as ticklish as suspected, they ought not to find their job too difficult to complete. He told them if other requests were made, it was in their best interests to comply and perform duties requested as failure would mean as a consequence time secured on the rack naked with he, his apprentices, feathers and brushes, Peter knew such a threat was more than adequate to ensure their obedience fearing this evil reprisal!

    The Major-domo took them to the Royal bedchamber where the Prince lay slumbering as night fell and watched as the two youths entered the room and were alone with the Prince. Peter took his seat quietly in the next door observation room that he ordinarily never occupied to the Prince's knowledge at night as it meant the occupant could clearly see all that was happening in the bedchamber as Peter now did. The youths reluctantly played out their roles suggesting the Prince be massaged before sleeping and positioning themselves by his bared feet.

    Just as the two servants were about to make contact with his bare soles the Prince said

    "Wait, wait; what are your names?"

    "I am Ivan and twenty years old Sir," one youth said.

    “I am Luka and twenty-one years old Sir," the other youth replied.

    "Please, Ivan and Luka, remember that I am one day to be King. As such, I am expected to conform to the highest ideals of man. I am to set an example for the entire kingdom and instil a sense of security to my people. Such a man, such as me, relies on the support and loyalty of other men, such as the two of you. Fortunately, a man of my station has the financial and political means to reward anyone that stands behind me. "Having stated my case, I hope that I can rely on the two of you to be most discreet about anything that goes on in this room. I understand that you must report back to the Major-domo but Peter does not need to be bothered with too much of the detail. Does he?"

    "Sir" Luka said, "I take orders from the Major-domo but my duty is to serve the empire. I would do nothing to hurt or humiliate the realm and those that represent it. I can assure you that I am here to administer pleasure to you, and not to cause you undue pain."

    "Nor I Sir," chimed in Ivan, not looking up at either the Prince or Luka.

    "Good," the Prince said, "Loyal and trusted men will go far in this household, I can promise you. Now, if we must begin, then proceed."

    Luka checked his grip on Nicholas's right ankle and he was aware of how violent the initial reactions could be as he was placing his fingers at the base of Nicholas's heel and he very slowly drew them upward. The Major-domo had instructed that he thought the Prince would be quite ticklish but Luka instantly realized that this was an understatement. The Prince pulled his foot back hard but luckily Luka's grip was secure. As his fingers moved up Nicholas's delicate arch, his toes started to wiggle and squirm. The Prince himself had both his own hands clamped over his mouth. The strain of his effort was apparent.

    Meanwhile, Ivan was dragging his fingers across the Prince's other sole. Both youths scratched all the way up across both soles, the balls of his feet and toes and then each returned to his heels for another pass. They were barely halfway up their second pass when the Prince suddenly sputtered through choked back laughter,

    "No, no, stop! I simply won't be able to endure this!"

    Both youths stopped and looked at the Prince. "I'm ticklish," the Prince said sullenly, "I can't help it, I'm just damn ticklish. I don't think that I could endure such torment for long without going completely mad. I'm afraid that I'll just have to cancel being massaged by you both!"

    "If I may make a suggestion Sir" Ivan said now standing up and facing the Prince.

    "Of course," responded the Prince

    "Then I suggest that you are so adverse to a massage tickling because you have never been subjected to it, learned to endure, and actually enjoy it. Perhaps, if you were to experience it more fully, your opinion of the techniques we employ will change."

    "What are you proposing?" the Prince asked.

    "We are your humble servants," Ivan continued and we swear our undying love and loyalty to you. Allow us to massage tickle you properly, so that you can see and trust in the security of our complete allegiance to you"

    That last sentence stung the Prince and he looked at the two youths, contemplating his choices. The Major-domo Peter drinking in the scene had his eyes fixed on the events taking place and pleased Ivan had spoken well, and unexpectedly convincingly, even Luka facial expression seemed to indicate his personal surprise at Ivan's convincing argument.

    "I appreciate your alternative. While I must admit that it is a foreboding idea, I am not completely adverse to it. Perhaps your plan has some merit." said the Prince.

    "To be completely successful," Ivan added, "You must allow us free reign to explore your ticklishness fully. I humble suggest that restraint be necessary."

    'Careful, Ivan,' thought Peter, almost muttering it aloud, 'you'll spook him out.'

    "Tie down a member of the royal family, are you mad?" the Prince said.

    "Restrain Sir to give you a means to resist your own reflexes. You are, of course always but a word from freedom." said Ivan not wanting to experience his size eleven feet punished!

    "What do you think, Luka," the Prince said.

    Luka stammered for a moment and then said, "I agree Sir. We will never know if we do not try. I myself know of a man that confided in me that he only engaged the services of a masseur because it was the fashionable thing to do. He admitted that he found his own ticklishness to be of great hindrance. However by the end of two consecutive sessions, he had engaged a pair of masseurs to join his permanent household staff."

    "You'll stop immediately upon my command?" said Prince Nicholas

    "Instantly Sir," Ivan said.

    "I swear yes Sir," agreed Luka.

    "Very well, I will comply with your suggestion Ivan," said the Prince

    The Major-domo Peter now wiped the sweat of anticipation from his brow as he watched the two youths tie the Prince to his bed. They used the velvet cords that held back the curtains at each doorway. Within a couple of minutes, they had the Prince's ankles and wrists tied to the four posts of the enormous bed. There was still plenty of room for them to lie at either side of him, so they sat upon his bed in order to have access to his newly bound feet.

    Without further conversation and with Peter watching intently, the youth's went into action and as soon as they started stroking the Prince's soles he burst out laughing. Now tied and helpless, he gave up any attempt to suppress his ticklishness. He laughed the crazy unrestrained laughter of a tickled man, something he'd never been allowed to do before as Prince so needing to be devoid of any kind of show of weakness and obvious sensitivity!

    The two youths secretly exchanged winks to each other as they devilishly danced their fingers across Nicholas' defenceless soles. The sensation was almost unendurable. Never before had the Prince been subjected to just such an intense experience. He'd not even yet had a chance to express himself sexually. Now shirtless and barefoot, he found himself at the mercy of two very handsome young men. Fortunately it was ensured that his room was off limits so the other members of royal staff would not make an unscheduled appearance.

    Luka admired the Prince's gorgeous feet from the first tickle. He'd always had a great passion for feet and tickling girl's feet. When the Major-domo had picked him to become a ticklish victim himself he'd sworn revenge as he suffered, as he'd enjoyed making his own female victims suffer, Luka had been more than happy to volunteer to tease the Prince's feet driven hysterical having his own worked on and teasing the Royal feet would be revenge! Now, stroking the Prince's left sole, his decision was well rewarded. It had only been a couple of minutes and already the Prince was laughing hysterically. Luka ran his finger around the sole, across the toes as the Prince's foot was wiggling and jerking wildly but his foot could not escape and Luka tickled with a passion. The prince was laughing hard and pulling on his restraints with all his strength which was quickly dwindling away as a direct result.

    Ivan was also tickling the Prince quite eagerly but for another reason entirely. When he was a small boy, Nicholas's grandfather was still Emperor and he'd exacted a new tax upon the people, and the tax collectors had come to Ivan's home and confiscated half of his father's herd to pay to new tax. Eventually his father had to struggle hard to continue to support his family of five boys and worked himself to an early grave. Since the age of fifteen Ivan had become a petty thief in order to contribute to his sibling’s welfare and hearing of the Major-domo’s plan, the thought of exacting some measure of revenge upon the Royals was all the enticement he needed to be involved but his feet tormented had convinced him to honouring any request the Prince might make of him. When the Prince had confessed his total ticklishness, Ivan had feared the game would stop there. He surprised himself with his persuasive words. Now he was greatly enjoying the young Prince's torment as he and Luka tickled the Royal's helpless soles. The idea that he had tricked the Prince into subjecting himself to such apparent torture made Ivan feel powerful over the Crown Prince too!

    Ivan had to admit that he found the tickling of the Prince quite enjoyable and he noted Luka was also having fun stroking the Prince's extremely ticklish soles and toes. Ivan started to wonder if the Prince's fit body was as ticklish as his feet and with barely a thought moved up on the bed and started to explore the Prince's ribs.

    "No!" the Prince managed to spit out between fits of laughter, "My feet! You are supposed to be massaging my feet which is unbearable enough as it is horribly tickling my feet!"

    "This will help you Sir," Ivan lied, "It will make you less ticklish if we tickle you all over." He continued raking Nicholas' ribs and started moving toward his armpits. As soon as Ivan started tickling the armpits, the young prince went insane. He was squirming about on the bed, thrashing about as much as his restraints would allow. Luka was still tickling the royal feet, enjoying them being moist and sweaty so his fingers slid all over them and most especially in between and under all of his toes! Ivan tickled all over the Prince's body: ribs, armpits, washboard stomach finding every single spot was excruciatingly ticklish, perfect revenge! He tickled the Prince vigorously, releasing all the pent-up anger he had about his father and his family. He concentrated all his years of anger into his tickling fingers, making the Prince absolutely mad with tickle torment.

    Luka was so fascinated with the Prince's squirming feet, his wiggling toes hid that he failed to take notice of Ivan's sadistic tickling as he was straddling the Prince and tickling him mercilessly. The Prince was completely drained and looked as if he would pass out at any moment. Suddenly panicked, Luka abandoned the Prince's bare feet and told Ivan they must give him a rest!

    It was time for Peter to enter the room or the Prince might die laughing as Ivan was intent on tickling him within an inch of his life and unannounced the Major-domo walked in on them. He ordered the tickling to cease and the youths to wait outside for him as he approached the bound Prince who was tossing his head rhythmically from side to side mumbling, "No more, please, no more. I'm too ticklish."

    "Your highness," Peter said softly. The Prince opened his eyes. "Major-domo? What are you doing here?"

    "I came to see if you were alright Sir and it seems I arrived in time!" Peter himself at the foot of the royal bed not resisting having a sniff of both feet and wanting to tease them himself but there would be another opportunity.

    "Major-domo I am Crown Prince of the Realm. I cannot be broken by a couple of mere servants who commanded by me made being in bondage my predicament to prove I am superior to any challenge so where are they, it will continue!" said the Prince.

    "Are you sure Sir?" said Peter kneeling by both royal bare feet

    "Quite, quite sure, send them back in!"

    "As you wish Sir" the Major-domo said, Peter said standing up at the end of the bed, bowing and backing out of the room and approaching both the youths waiting outside in the hallway

    "He wishes you to attend him further. Foolish youth. He'd rather the two of you tickle him to death than to admit his weakness. Get back in there and Ivan You've already earned yourself an afternoon in my rack. I suggest you keep your head or I promise your tickling will be of epic proportions."

    "Yes Sir and so sorry I swear," Ivan said.

    "You watch him," Peter said to Luka, "Otherwise I'll have your ankles in the stocks also!"

    "I will Sir!" said Luka as the youths entered the bed-chamber again and Peter returned to the Secret Chamber.

    Crown Prince Nicholas asked Luka if he'd been tickled and he admitted his older brothers had been ruthless in their endless tickling of their youngest sibling. He told how he hated being tickled so the Prince made a request. "I should like to see how this be illustrated"

    Luka had no choice but to remove his jacket and shirt. He was wearing long underwear under his clothes, so he unbuttoned the underwear down to his waist and then he wiggled his arms out and let the top part of his long underwear hang from trousers.

    Ivan used two pieces of the gilded cord: one to tie Luka's wrists behind his back and the other to tie his elbows together. Then, he turned Luka so that his back was to the royal bed and pushed him backward. Luka fell across the bed but with his arms tied behind him, he was propped up on his elbows, his torso stretched open before Ivan. Luka's armpits were not well exposed, but that did not matter for what Ivan had in store.

    Ivan remembered the Major-domo had found Luka's feet very sensitive and he decided to exploit this knowledge now. He stood at the edge of the bed, grasped the ankle of Luka's right boot and he started to unlace both boots.

    "See how he enjoys it so Sir? Please Luka tell the Prince how much it delights you to bare your soles for him, these large sweaty and sensitive soles which smell rich!" taunted Ivan

    "It feels wonderful Your Highness," Luka lied as he panted heavily.

    Ivan had removed Luka's size 12 boots and socks. He now held Luka's bare feet in his arms. He stood up so that Luka was forced back on his elbows, his legs up in the air. Then he started to stroke Luka's soles. Soon Luka was moaning and as Ivan hit a sensitive spot wiggle his toes, his feet squirm and he giggle! Ivan favoured initially tickling both feet gently but as Ivan continued to tickle all around Luka's toes he managed to gain a little more control over his laughter and soon he was giggling and twitching from the intense strokes being delivered all over both of his feet! Ivan enjoying making Luka really laugh and beg for mercy

    The Prince smiling himself seeing and hearing Luka's suffering as Luka had tickled his feet so mercilessly, it served as a great consolation to see him desperate to be freed from the intense tickling as he grew more and more hysterical to Ivan's delight! He tickled Luka until he became breathless and only then stopped the insidious tickling torment! Ivan then began to stroke his fingers gently along the Prince's soles and still incredibly ticklish, he started to laugh immediately. Then he began licking the Prince's sweating fee and sucking on his wiggling toes. The Prince moaned louder as Ivan's tongue slurped his toes and he kept licking up n' down his bare soles. This oral teasing really drove Prince Nicholas wild, his wrinkled soles brushing against Ivan's face as he inhaled their pungent aroma! He then gripped the Prince's hardened dick and forcibly pumped him in spite of the royal protests he ignored as while jerking him off with one hand, horribly stroking under his toes with the other so really torturing the Prince!

    Sitting in the other room seeing this happening and hearing the screaming, moaning laugh that erupted from the Prince as he began to cum he smiled. Ivan then untied Luka and they both massaged the Prince's feet smiling at him using a firm grip on his feet so not to tickle him anymore as he was completely exhausted and soon fell asleep! They then left the bed-chamber and reported to the Major-domo.

    Peter congratulated them on their good work and took the two youths to his own personal quarters where he ordered them both to strip and asking Luka to secure Ivan to the bed with arms out and feet together which Luka did and he was then instructed to lay on top of Ivan head to foot which he did. Luka's face pressed against the tops of Ivan's feet. Peter tied his wrists to the two foot posts. Then he tied Luka's ankles together and secured them to the bed so that his toes dangling just above Ivan's face. They knew better than to protest wanting their freedom to restore their masculinity chasing girls again but Peter had imaginative ideas of his own.

    "To begin boys," the Major-domo said, "I think the two of you should reward one another for your excellent work with a delicious foot bath. So start licking."

    Ivan started licking Luka's toes immediately. It was something he had found oddly that he’d wished to do when he was stroking Luka's soles, the feet smelling strong and masculine so he didn't hesitate to apply his tongue generously enticed by Luka's shocked squirming!

    Luka had never licked another man's feet before. He hesitated for just a moment. Then Ivan's hot tongue started to snake in and out from between his toes sensually and Luka imagining it belonged to a fair maiden found his arousal instantly grew. He raised his head and he started to lap at Ivan's bare soles and then thought how Ivan had mercilessly teased him, he nibbled Ivan's toes as he sucked on them all making Ivan giggle being very ticklish!

    The Major-domo saw this relishing in Ivan's feet were very ticklish, almost rivalling that of the Prince. So he was thrilled when Lukas's licking was making Ivan giggle. Peter moved around the large bed, which was in the center of the room, enjoying the view of the two bound, naked heterosexual youths servicing one another's feet. He stopped at the head of the bed and helped Lukas's tongue by scribbling a finger up and down each of Ivan's soles. Ivan burst out laughing and Luka licked both Ivan's wildly writhing feet even more.

    Then Peter moved around to the side of the bed and reached up into Luka's armpit, making him laugh. He tickled for a few seconds, giving Ivan a short break from Luka's tickling licks, before he stopped and let the two youths resume their foot service. Peter moved around the bed several times, happy just to watch the activity and adding his own tickling here and there. He had this continue for several minutes before he untied Luka.

    "Now," he ordered, "Turn around the other way and lay on top of Ivan again."

    Luka complied. Then Peter tied his wrists again, this time up next to Ivan's wrists. The two youths were lying together, face to face. Peter tied Luka's ankles and then spread his legs apart a bit and tied them off. It this position, Ivan's feet were tied together, toes pointing to the ceiling, and Luka's feet were on either side, toes pointing to the floor.

    "Now, let's see if we can't get the two of you sufficiently stimulated." said Peter smiling. Taking a stiff feather, Peter started to stroke it around the four bare soles. Both youths started to laugh and squirm, wiggling their toes and wrinkling their soles. Their feet were rubbing together as they moved and twitched but the feather kept the tickling going making their feet jump all about. Luka and Ivan were laughing hard. Ivan's feet were so horribly ticklish, and he had a real weakness for the stroke of a feather. The tickling was almost unbearable. However, he could not help but Luka though ticklish also got aroused by the sensation.

    Ivan didn't enjoy the feather tickling of his feet not in the same way as ticklish Luka did. The feather assault made him laugh out loud but he knew he could endure this treatment for hours as it was extremely sensual. What added to this perverse enjoyment for Luka was Ivan's reaction. Ivan was laughing hysterically and his head right next to Luka's, he was laughing in Luka's ear and Luka was aware of their bodies pressed tight together. Now as Ivan was helplessly and hopelessly moving about from the foot tickling he was enduring, he was rubbing against Luka causing him an arousal and driving him towards ecstasy! Peter the Major-domo greatly enjoyed tickling men's feet with a feather so was thrilled by the youth's individual reactions.

    Ever since he'd been employed by the Emperor Vladmir II as Head of Palace Security he had utilised his position of authority to punish prisoners and misbehaved palace staff in his private dungeon room. An hour in his stocks or on his rack was always good for a laugh.
    The feather had been employed on the soles of many males and he could recount every one. Never before though had he conducted a punishment in his private chambers. He'd had men there before, quite a few but they were sexual encounters that came to his bedroom and their tickling encompassed during love making. This was the first time he had young men in his room to administer punishment to but there's a first time for everything after all!

    Peter had never incorporated such an obviously sexual aspect to his punishing either but he was enticed by the fact these boys were so straight being womanisers as known in the town as he'd learned doing his homework on them so corrupting them was extra exciting! Something about the earlier events made this form of punishment and reward seem totally appropriate even if it was blurring the lines between business and pleasure! The four feet twitching and wiggling were taking up all of his attention and their smells appealing too!

    Luka had a hard time reconciling the conflicting feelings of the unbearable tickling torment and unbelievable pleasure. With every stroke of the feather across his helpless soles, he hoped it would be the last experience of this nature yet he feared that it would end and as it continued, Luka knew it would inevitably lead to the orgasm that Peter the Major-domo desired happening! Ivan concentrated as hard as he could on trying not to react to the insidious tickling torture. He was about to cum, but he was afraid if he did that even more sensitive the tickling would become even more intense knowing he could not stand this happening but he was losing his battle and he knew he would cum very soon.

    The Major-domo sensed that both men were nearing their limits of endurance. He tickled their soles and toes without mercy. Ivan came first and Luka followed quickly thereafter. Peter paused his tickling while the two men spent themselves and then he said with an evil smile

    "Now that you've had your reward, it is time for the real punishment."

    Then he started to tickle their feet again. Having just orgasmed, both men were hideously extra-sensitive making the feather strokes across their naked feet unbearable. Ivan was thrown into complete hysterics and was begging the Major-domo to stop. His feet were so ticklish that thrilled Peter. Peter tickled Luka's feet similarly and he too was driven to hysteria and pleading for it to cease but was able to endure it better. Peter tickled both youths for a while before giving them a rest. Peter untied Luka and helped him into a chair but Ivan remained secured to the bed.

    "You deserve a little extra for your cruel play with the Prince and your feet seem to be particularly ticklish" Peter said.

    The Major-domo twisted around so he faced both feet and applied his fingers under the ten sweaty toes facing him and tickled there beyond reason. Ivan didn't know he could laugh as loudly and he thrashed about on the bed enduring complete tickle torture. He laughed and laughed as Peter's fingers stroked in between his long toes. Then using the feather to saw in between them and maliciously running the quill end up n'down both soles. Sadistic Peter then told Luka to kneel facing Ivan's feet and reminded him how Ivan had teased his feet, he ordered him to orally abuse them nibbling and sucking his toes making him suffer and Luka did exactly that. Encouraged by Peter with the threat if he didn't with taking Ivan’s place on the bed he had to orally tease Ivan's feet sensually so imagined as best he could Ivan being an Ivan. Ivan was going berserk as Luka took each toe in turn in his mouth and nibbled them like crazy.

    All had failed to see standing at the doorway watching was the Prince who stopped the play; he ordered Peter to release Ivan and then told him that he had a further request of the two youths and the Major-domo smiled until the Prince ordered him to lie on the bed as he wanted to voyeur the youth's techniques. The Major-domo was then as told by the Prince secured to the bed.

    "I have heard of your mission Peter and I am sure that as events of my being bound and tormented for your personal gratification will be information you will not ideally want publicised, to remain a secret and to remain so I desire seeing you pleasured similarly and my father sickly will not live indefinitely and I am sure you value your position in the Imperial House and will therefore do your utmost to please your future Emperor!"

    The Prince faced the Major-domo’s size 11 feet and proceeded to pull off his boots as Peter shivered immediately the Prince's fingers came in contact with his bare feet and he deeply inhaled their powerful smell.

    "Your Highness I can't bear to have my feet touched being far too sensitive."

    "Ivan, Luka both of you treat me to a show and your freedom guaranteed and I will arrange for some maidens to be on hand for you, please indulge in Peter's feet from heels to toes as he commanded you do to mine and it seems his feet are very sweaty so in need of a most thorough tongue bath including each toe being sucked and I will be likewise taking my own pleasures with all three of you comparing ticklishness, tastes and smells, let us begin!"
    Last edited by Autolycus; February 6th, 2013 at 08:22 AM.

  25. #25


    The three college roomies shared a secret, Steve was dominated by Paul and Jason. It had
    started two terms back when all three were playing poker and Steve as loser had to pay a
    forfeit and Paul and Jason forced him to strip naked and lie on the floor. Not wanting to
    be a coward the 6' Steve had done as bid by his roomies. Then 6'2" Jason and 6'1" Paul
    had proceeded to rub their dirty socked feet all over his face and body. When they saw
    that Steve's dick had become erect they told him he must be queer and would get other guys to rub their feet on him but Steve begged them not to. They relented but on the condition he did as told which meant telling them how awesome their feet smelled. In turn Steve had to pull off their socks and subject himself to their bare feet being rubbed all over him. Jason's size 12's and Paul's size 11's rubbed Steve everywhere including over his dick and balls and Steve's dick grew harder which gave them power over him. After that day they used their feet as punishment for him whenever he lost a card game or a video game or a bet or just for the hell of it making him sniff their socked feet, sweaty and moist fresh out of their sneakers and usually then sniff their bare feet. Steve was also unlike them ticklish on his own size 11 feet so if he refused to obey them, would be gagged with one of their discarded socks and then endure a tickling until he agreed to their demands.

    Often as he slept the sheets from his bed would be pulled back and his very sensitive feet abused, his roomies waking him kissing and licking his feet and sucking his toes as all the sensations tickled him and Paul and Jason had found they quite liked the taste and smell of Steve'sfeet but most of all the fact he was so hideously ticklish! Any excuse and they attacked! Steve came to becoming accustomed to the smells and tastes of his roomies feet too and the 20yr old addicted to their dominance which they liked best of all and used to their total advantage so to suck on their toes he'd have to complete their college work, to give them a foot massage, he'd need to do their laundry though it was a game of theirs to make him chew on their sweaty, stinky socks whilst each of them had hold of a foot and tickled him. They'd tease him too having him strip and speak about how rich their feet smelled having come in from baseball practice by example, make him kneel in front of them as they'd sit on one of the beds. Paul then slowly lift Jason's left foot to his face, placing his nose right on his friend's toes and deeply inhale, letting the extremely arousing odour of a moist, sweaty, smelly man foot invade his nostrils. As he did this looking at Steve who'd
    be quietly moaning wanting Jason's foot himself. He would be told to beg for Jason's foot
    which Paul would say smelled so strong! It was easy for the two roomies to have Steve where they wanted him and to keep him there as their personal slave! Steve would be begging

    "Please, please, please, can I please get it on with Jason's feet?" he'd say looking at
    Paul with pleading eyes and Paul noting that the sight have made Steve's dick leak with
    precum would order him to lie on his back and stroke his dick telling them how much he
    wanted Jason's feet as Paul would verbally tease him.

    "They're not my feet Steve, you best ask the guy they they belong to." Paul would tease
    as he winked at Jason who'd wiggle his toes in Paul's face. Then stretch a foot out and
    hover it over Steve's face saying "Go on sniff, sniff my footstink!" smiling

    They'd both look at Steve who looked so pathetic lying on his back begging and desperately
    pleading to even so much as touch Jason's feet. The mix of seeing his pleading look and
    his stiff dick bouncing up and down, dripping precum onto the floor would amuse them both.

    "Ok Steve I'll let you play with my big, stinky, sweaty, manfeet but only on one condition,
    that you submit yours to us willingly!" Jason stipulated the condition menacingly!

    Steve knowing he had no choice, if he refused that they'd get him any way, reluctantly
    agreed to their imposed demands and conditons. After perhaps only being allowed to sniff
    Jason's feet, he'd be attacked and find himself pounced on as his roomies liked playing
    it rough with him. Rolling his dirty socks off, raising his sweaty feet to their noses and
    inhaling;then indulging in the oral worship that always tickled him so horribly. Steve
    promised the reward and this being time spent with their stinky socked and bare feet and so
    them easily gaining access to abusing their slave boy's mega - ticklish feet by making
    such promises to him and he inviting them with statements like .. Please tickle my feet,
    Please stroke under my toes, make me suffer for you, Please lick my soles and suck my toes! Requests totally fulfilled by Jason and Paul taking their time enjoying Steve's feet!

  26. #26

    Red Indian Ticklers

    When the captured frontier striplings were herded into our camp, they were confronted by braves who asked them to submit to slavery or to drink water from a wooden tumbler. When the youths refused, the braves forced them to drink from the tumbler which contained a natural sedative. They fell unconscious almost immediately.

    When they woke up they found themselves naked and seated with their backs against tree trunks. They were bound hand and foot and were now facing the cruel countenances of tall, feather-armed braves. They were bound to the trees with their arms at their sides, and their ankles were roped together.

    I would always remember watching as the braves propped the feet of the unconscious frontier striplings up on piles of buffalo skins--effectively elevating their bare feet. These captives were extraordinarily pretty lads with wide blue eyes, fair skin and shining golden hair that flowed past their shoulders. They truly resembled displaced angels.

    I watched as a brave named Little Creek tickled each of the captive lads' bare feet. Despite the fact that these homesteading beardless boys were still ensconced in slumber, he tickled every toe of every young man slowly and unremittingly--stroking their arches as he did so. Then he resumed tickling each sole, and chuckled banefully at the blonde youths' drugged, unconscious laughter.

    For a while another brave called Tall Wind stared at the designated leader of the blond beardless youthful captives, Mark Mason. Mark had golden hair that accented the features of his lovely face. A few light freckles covered the area around his button nose, but unconsciousness was currently hiding his luminescent blue eyes and dimpled smile. The quietly sleeping young man looked so innocent--despite the fact that he was bound by ropes and his feet were tied at the ankles and propped atop a pile of buffalo skins. Indeed, all five of the frontier striplings looked innocent and angelic in their sleep.

    But the moment passed quickly as two of the assembled braves--the ones who had been chosen to administer the torture treatment--stepped forward. Their names were Standing Horse and Big Head.

    They started in on those five pairs of young, sensitive feet the moment all five frontier striplings had regained consciousness. First each lass felt Big Head and Standing Horse's hands gently scraping their soles to wake their nerve endings up a bit. Pressing firmly against the five pairs of sweaty insteps, the youths' thumbs rubbed each and every muscle ...stroking up and down. Next, Big Head and Standing Horse brushed their fingertips across the youths' now very sensitized soles, moving them all over the bottoms of their feet. The young frontier striplings, really feeling the torture now, began to shake and laugh out loud.

    Standing Horse and Big Head both grabbed an eagle's feather and began to lightly scrape it up and down the soles of each of the young man's feet. Each brush triggered the tingling, powerful nerve endings which naturally resulted in wave upon wave of tickles being sent up through the five captive's curvaceous bodies. All pride in the frontier striplings members were gone--they laughed with uncontrollable abandon now.

    The feathers slowly traced every little curve of the young youths' smooth heels and insteps. Then Standing Horse and Big Head moved the feathers up to the balls of their feet, and to that sensitive area connecting their sweet toes to their feet. Dragging the feathers back and forth across the area, the two braves bore witness as all five pairs of feet belonging to Mark, Peter, Alexander, Justin and Edward kept wiggling and clenching so wildly.

    The laughing screams and wiggling grew so intense that Standing Horse and Big Head almost stopped their torture treatment because it was apparently driving their captives mad. But the brave called Tall Wind urged his fellow warriors on. These land-stealing, obstreperous homesteading squaws had to learn a lesson--and this way seemed the least traumatic and the most effective.

    So Standing Horse and Big Head used one hand to take hold of one foot of each young man. Then they took this same hand and gently pulled the frontier striplings toes back away from the balls of their feet, exposing their soles better and stretching the skin. The sadistic warriors now used the eagle feathers to wedge into those small areas and torment each and every nerve ending more intensely!

    They slowly and gently brushed every cute toe on all five of the blond youths' feet. They made sure to get underneath them, on the balls of their feet, and between them ...with the captive beardless boys laughing, screaming and wiggling all the while. All of the youths tried desperately to curl their toes to fortify their feet against the tickles, but the attempts were in vain. Standing Horse and Big Head alternated from foot to foot on each young man, mercilessly tickling, brushing and scraping.

    Soon there were five sets of feet crackling with electricity ...and five lads laugh-crying and screaming for mercy or for at least a moment of relief from the torture but instead of relief, the young men found their feet assaulted by ice chipped fresh from the rocks lining the riverbed! Braves by the name of Flathead Man and Little Creek grabbed cold, wet chunks of ice and slid them up and down the captive youths' insteps, then under and between their bare toes.

    The five beautiful blond beardless boys screamed in torment and tried with all their might to pull their feet away from the relentless tickling and torture, but the ropes held their feet and ankles tight ...so the ice, feathers and fingers continued to assail them. Standing Horse, Big Head, Flathead Man and Little Creek didn't stop their torturous onslaught until they fainted from the torment. Then released them and rode off into the sunset!

  27. #27


    I had all I needed for the blackmail. My boss dating the Chairman's daughter set to marry in a couple of months caught by me on camera in the office smooching the new secretary and even taped arranging to meet her. I waited a week and presented him with the knowledge and he was putty in my hands. He knew I was bisexual and had a foot fetish having looked at my P.C. at work one evening and I'd evidently not shut the link. Whilst grateful he'd seen it and not my collegues, he called me into the office and told me and a week later promoted Herve Stephan a new French guy ahead of me to becoming Audit Controller and told me he didn't want someone kinky in a position of control. Saying this as he'd deliberately taken his shoes off and rubbed his sweaty socked feet infront of me saying how sensitive his size 12's were and how he loved feet massages from women. Infront of my collegues often saying how tight his shoes were, how sweaty his feet felt etc staring at me and smiling to humiliate me. Now came payback due!

    Jeff a sorry state made to strip off his suit in his own apartment keeping just his thin black nylon socks on and his traditional lace - up shoes while secured to his own bed so he couldn't move his legs. In this position, Jeff's feet weren't going anywhere, and were right up in front of me. Jeff knew what was coming, and he screamed, "NOOOO! Not THAT! Not my FEET! Anything but that! ANYTHING but my FEET!", but, deep down, he knew this was all in vain. This is exactly what the event was, an initiation for him into KINK as I made clear looking at his big feet still in shoes and socks and then winking up at him from the end of the bed; the 'Main Event' was about to unfold.
    As his tormentor I slowly began to unlace Jeff''s left shoe, Jeff cried defiantly, "Don't you take off my shoes! Don't you DARE take off my shoes, damn you!". This quickly changed to pleas of "Please don't take off my shoes! I beg you, PLEASE don't take off my shoes!", as he saw and felt the left shoe leave his foot. "Sounds like someone might be a bit ticklish on his feet",I teased . "I'm not just gonna take off your shoes, I'm taking off your SOCKS , too!", to which Jeff screamed,"NOO! Not my BARE feet! Please, don't do it! Don't tickle my feet! Please. have mercy on me! Don't tickle my BARE FEET! Not my BARE feet!", but it was too late, both shoes were off. What an instant rush, his feet smelt so raunchy so had a good long deep sniff as he remained quiet, hoping I guess that was it but no chance! As I slid a finger up the length of his socked soles telling him unless he wanted Chloe finding out about he and Amanda his feet were mine tonight and infact whenever I chose. Telling him when Chloe was living with him after their marriage that we'd arrange a hotel meet or he'd come to my place. Sometimes work would mean a weekend away when I'd indulge in his feet and have helpers. "HAHAHAHASTOOOPITFUUUCKYOUHAHAHA!" in reaction to my fingers testing out his socked sole and toes.

    I slowly slipped off the left sock and ran two fingers slooowly up the bare foot flesh as it was being exposed. Jeff cried a cry of the doomed, "HEEHEEHEEHEE! NOONOONOONONO!DON'TTICKLEMYFEET!NOTMYFEET! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAAHAAHAAHAA!" I continued to bare both of Jeff's feet, Then I began to tickle Jeff's feet mercilessly. "You do have ticklish feet!! Tell me where you're the most ticklish on them! Tell me, or I'll find out for myself, and you'll get it even worse than you're gonna! Better tell me quick, or ELSE!". I threatened, as I carried out the threat and began drawing circles all over Jeff's soft, ultra sensitive soles, and Jeff screamed with hysterical laughter.
    Jeff tried to talk between his screaming laughter, "On theeheehee thoohoohoees! I'm most THEEHEECKLISH ON MHAAHAAHAAY THOOHOOHOOES! Please, haahaave MERCY! It's on my THOOHOOES! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!".

    "On the toes, eh. O.K., since you confessed, I'll give your toes a break. For a minute or two, anyway!", said the sadistic torturer.
    I did give Jeff's toes a break from tickling for a few minutes, concentrating instead on all the other parts of Jeff's super ticklish bare feet. With the ankles crossed, and the Jeff's legs together, the soles of Jeff's bare feet were right next to each other, and directly in front of me so I had no problem tickling both feet at once.

    I tortured the soles, first lightly fluttering his finger tips so it felt as if Jeff was being tickled by a handful of stiff feathers. Then I tried lightly scratching the heels, and was pleased with the way Jeff howled with laughter from both types of attack. Next I tried the tops of Jeff's feet, and was delighted to learn that Jeff was ticklish there, too. I played with Jeff's sensitive bare feet for over an hour, then happily announced, "Time to work on those toes Jeff!". Jeff, who was now nothing more than a hysterical blob of jelly, rallied every ounce of strength he still had to shout, "NOONOONOONOO! PLEASE! You PROMISED! Not my toes! PLHEEHEEHEESE! I'll give you theehee best blow job yhoohoo've ever haahaahaad! I'll let yhoohoohoo FUCK MHEEHEEHEE! But PLHEEHEESE! Not the THOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOES!", but it was too late; the toe tickling had begun.
    Jeff went ballistic with this assault on the most ticklish part of his body. He screamed with laughter, beat his hands on the matress, grabbed his head, rocked back and forth, but there was no escape. The binds held him fast, and I was tickling all ten toes at once. I was running my fingers over the pads of all ten toes, then going to the base of the toes and torturing that area for a very long time. Then I tickled the tops of his toes, sending new tickling sensations cascading through Jeff's body. I owned Jeff, and he knew it. So the toe ticking eventually stopped as I told him his feet were now very hot n' smelly so needed a wash and smiling he'd agreed thinking he'd be released when I said to him that I was glad he agreed with me but releasing him was not part of the deal and licked my lips as in horror he yelled as I began to slip my tongue in between Jeff's toes, Jeff thought he would lose his mind from the unbearable tickle torture I was expert in dishing out and as he was now feeling personal proof of being my latest victim ... I in no hurry to stop his initiation into KINK !

  28. #28

    Bizarre Interrogation!

    The U.S. Marine interrogator approached the blindfolded suspected Iraqui terrorist who lay naked on the interrogation table tightly secured and silently began running his long fingers over the attractive suspect's ticklish ribcage. Hassan Yashid was wriggling and laughing as he felt the tickling fingers assault his ribs. His body was soaked in sweat as he struggled to evade his interrogator's expert technique.

    Lieutenant Cody walked very close to Hassan who he knew spoke English and whispered, "I know your weakness. I know you're ticklish. How ticklish are you?" Hassan's chest was heaving up and down as he gulped air. "I tell you nothing American pig." gasped Hassan between giggles.

    Now annoyed he whispered again,"You know Hassan.... I know just how ticklish you are... and I will stop.but. only if you tell me the information I wish to know." ... I will tell you nothing !" The interrogator then sat down in from of Hassan's prostrate body and said,"This is your last chance... " Hassan shook his head "No. "I told you I say nothing !"

    He smiled to himself as he began tickling Hassan's size 13 feet with a feather amusing himself exploring the enemie's sensitivity. Hassan within a few moments began pleading for mercy, his feet were insanely ticklish, even more so than his upper body. The Lieutenant now ignored him and began pulling the feather between Hassan's toes, driving him into fits of laughter His body thrashed around as much as his bonds would allow. Then the expert U.S. interrogator used the feather up and down Hassan's arches, driving him in to harder laughter. Soon Hassan's body was drenched in sweat and he was breathing hard between hysterical laughter, but still he would not break as the insidious torture continued.


    Soon seeing Hassan was gasping for air Lieutenant Cody stopped tickling him for a few moments but then began tickling Hassan's feet again but no feather, his own fingers which was torturous!


    Lieutenant Cody having studied reflexology knew all the pressure points to attack and was tickling between and under Hassan's now very sweaty' toes sending him into hysterical laughter. As he was tickling both bare feet horribly, having a good sniff at them, Hassan's feet smell was intoxicating to the American abusing him. Soon enough Hassan was crazed with ticklish laughter as the tickling now really tortured him.

    As he knew it would the Liutenant happy to see Hassan's dick involuntarily growing adding to his humiliation, Hassan was certainly becoming aroused from the merciless tickling he was getting. He shrieked in ticklish laughter, especially when his inerrogator tickled his hardened dick repeatedly using his own fingers and a feather just to the point where Hassan was ready to shoot his load. Then he stopped.

    Hassan's fit' body was dreanched with sweat, his chest heaving up and down , laughter still coming from him. Weakened Hassan was helpless as suddenly he knew his feet had been secured to a pulley of some kind and were being lifted and spread against his will.

    "Hassan is your butt sensitive ? My guess sure it is but let's see !" the Lieutenant said.

    Hassan shuddered and whispered,"Please.. no more! No more tickling!! I can't... can't stand it!"

    The Marine laughed himself as he even harder. as he took a long feather and began tickling Hassan between his buttocks. As soon as the youthful Iraqui felt the feather, he began giggling and tensing his butt cheeks protectively. While Lieutenant Cody was tickling Hassan, he himself was laughing as he told Hassan that he'd be in ticklish hell once he'd cum as the body much more sensitive then and how he was going to enjoy torturing his feet and even suggesting as they being dirty, smelly and sweaty that he might subject him to oral attention on them.

    Hassan was broken and told everything he knew to stop the torture from happening and the American soon celebrating himself having proven another interrogation to having been completed successfully!!

  29. #29

    A Journalist's lot in Turkey

    My name is Tarkan Eshek and I am a guard at the Umraniye prison in Turkey

    Umraniye is known and notorious in Turkey as a coffin-prison. Contrary to the way the prison was run in the 90's, the prisoners are no longer kept in solitary confinement. Over and over again the prison board tries to take away the prisoners' rights. Arbitrary bans on visits by lawyers and relatives, attacks on prisoners during their way to court, bans on legal papers and books, denying medical treatment that is the order of the day. The last attack against the Umraniye-prison occurred on December13, 1999. While they were careful enough not to kill any prisoners during this attack, because of the coming elections, the violence they used in the attack after the elections was exceedingly brutal.

    I can remember when fellow prison guard Moharem Domus binding, gagging and raping a tall, handsome American prisoner named Brian Walsh.

    Brian was our guest because he hadn't kept in mind that drug laws and enforcement rates change drastically depending on what country you're in. He, like so many other tourists, often traveled to countries where certain drugs were culturally accepted, though still very illegal. This often misleads travelers into feeling a false sense of security. People often end up in foreign prisons for violating that nations drug laws while on vacation, sometimes knowingly and sometimes unknowingly. Brian found himself in our prison for allegedly trying to smuggle heroin out of the country; his friend had asked him to carry a bag (with the drugs) through customs for him. The man with the bag was caught, the friend had already disappeared.

    So here he was. All six foot something of him - a beautiful, beaming blond American, muscled frame, sky blue eyes.

    And I didn't have to lift a finger when Moharem tied him up and had his way with him either. And I didn't hold back out of cruelty, but out of mercy. I saw that Brian liked the treatment he was receiving at the hand of my comrade. Moharem enjoyed himself as well. He loved it immensely when the tightly-bound and helpless American writhed and begged for release after a bout of affable sadism. It was pure B&D sexual sadism for Moharem I could see that clearly ... for Brian I could tell that it was pure hell !

    Moharem bound Brian up tight before tearing him apart, but I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll start with Moharem who, with my help, got Brian into a solitary cell and dumped him onto the mattress located on the grimy chamber floor.

    My comrade literally ripped the shirt from Walsh's back. The first thing I did was tug off the dazed American's shoes and sniff his sweaty white socks with a few deep breaths. Then I slowly began removing one of his white socks, which smelled fantastic and even stronger than I'd imagined. I buried my nose in Brian's fragrant sweaty white sock for I don't know how long. I even began licking the salty sweat from the handsome American's other hot, humid socked foot. Moharem, leaning against the far wall, watched me and laughed. Eventually I peeled off our captive's remaining saliva soaked sock.

    "Noooooh he whimpered, trying to push the sentry away from him. As he did so,Moharem grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back. As Brian struggled, I began rubbing his hands over Brian's chest and licking playfully at his nipples.

    Apparently our prisoner hated this' Moharem grabbed his arms and told him The first thing you're going to learn here is to do something ONLY when I fucking tell you you can do it! understand" My comrade then bound Brian's hands behind his back with strips from his shredded shirt.

    And while Moharem took care of our captive's top half, I spent my time on the lower one. I spent a few minutes committing to memory every part of Brian's bare feet ... the almost invisible blond hairs on his sweet toes, the heels with the smooth soles. The beautiful perfection of them caused an erection to push uncomfortably against my underwear and pants. I brought my eyes and nose within inches of the naked feet before me. I took a gentle, tentative lick at the area underneath Brian's left baby toe and immediately felt pre-cum dampen my underwear. As the full reality of the situation hit me, my heart began racing ... Brian Walsh was all mine! To do with as I pleased!

    The erection straining against my underwear and pants inevitably began to hurt, so I released my throbbing boner. When the handsome American regained his full senses, Moharem grabbed a hold of Brian's limp penis and squeezed it hard,

    " You now belong to my girl here, dog. And you're either going to follow our orders or well chop you into pieces small enough to flush. It's that simple."

    Brian, bound as he was, was full of hateful defiance, "You're full of shit you Eurotrash --"

    Instantly Moharem brought his open hand up above his head and swung it down, hitting Brian full on the side of his cranium. The handsome American's blond head rocked.

    Moharem then grabbed Brian harshly by the ear and jerked his head around,

    " Look at me, dog!" Brian opened his glacial blue eyes wide as my comrade held him and said, "Look at my face and tell me that I won't gut you like a hog right now!"

    He punched Brian again. Blood trickled from the corner of the American's mouth. Walsh's body rolled and strained against his bonds. The bonds held him tight. I began to laugh at how absurd he looked.

    Then, with precise deliberation, Moharem curled the fingers of his left hand around the handsome American's throat. Brian tilted back as his bloody mouth opened and his face twisted with new agony. Moharem leaned close to Brian's face ... the colors of both their faces extraordinary. I mean, as my comrade's face grew darker with rage, Brian's grew paler with terror. Moharem even spat at our captive,

    " You believe it don't you? Please say you believe it so that I won't have to prove it to you " he whispered, low and deadly.

    Brian tried to speak, but nothing would come out of his mouth. His glacial blue eyes were locked on my comrade's red-rimmed brown ones. Moharem closed his fingers on Brian's throat with a small but brutal jerk.

    " I asked you a question, bitch ... DO YOU BELIEVE IT??"

    " I ... I ...," Brian gasped, choked. I grabbed him and could feel him straining against his bonds. I grinned and traced a finger lightly along an arm and over his chest till I reached a nipple. I then replaced my finger with my tongue, giving little cat licks.

    Moharem continued to choke him and soon Brian's eyes closed slowly as his face changed colors. He was losing consciousness. My comrade closed his fingers more tightly around our prisoner's throat. The handsome American's eyelids flew open to reveal rolling despairing eyes. He strained against the shirt tied shreds keeping his hands bound behind his back, but soon his struggles grew weaker. Eventually Brian Walsh lay boneless beneath Moharem, his body limp and almost lifeless.

    When Brian regained consciousness, the look of hate and defiant rage was gone, replaced by a look of total subjugation and helplessness. He had awakened right while I was in the middle of feasting upon his dick. Moharem grinned as he watched me suck Brian's dick and lick his balls. Yes, I was getting pleasure having my way with Brian ... but my comrade was also getting pleasure WATCHING me have my way with bound Brian. Yes, our hateful young captive was a gift that kept on giving.

    But the gift wasn't just for me. You see, by this time another prison sentry ... a burly dark haired fellow named Hussein Yancek ... had joined us in the cell. And he’d arrived with all the necessary “instruments” for the three of us to have a good time with our handsome blond American guest.

    Moharem stood over Brian and said, "Now, Hussein here also likes getting his arse eaten out in addition to slobbering over dick. Now, what I want YOU to do is eat his out, cowboy."

    Meanwhile I sat in a chair near the mattress and took off my shoes. Then I placed my smelly socked feet just about two inches above our captive's shaved head and forced him to sniff. Yancek stripped off his clothing and positioned his arse near Brian's face.

    Neither Yancek nor I was used to giving orders of this sort, so we left that up to Moharem. He glared at Brian and said,

    " Sniff that arse, cowboy! Lick that arse like your miserable life depends on it ... because it does, dog!"

    Watching him sniff Hussein's arse and lick it really drove me wild, and once Brian began to kiss Yancek's asscheeks ... as Moharem ordered ... I actually felt precum dribbling in my trousers. Moharem left us to get his camera.

    Then, as Brian knelt before Hussein and inhaling the odor from his crotch, I saw that our captive's own blood-engorged dick was visibly leaking through his pants. He really did belong to us now, and Moharem who returned immediately snapped picture after picture of Brian sniffing and licking Yancek's arse and crotch and sniffing my feet ... posterity proof of the fact that he was ours.

    We put a collar on him, so that he recognized that he was our property for the evening. Then I worked him over--started off with some light finger work on his man-nipples! Once we had warmed him up, we tied his hands behind his back and blindfolded him so he could enjoy the tit pain without distraction. A hand down to his trousers showed that he was getting harder and harder with all this attention, so we untied his hands and ordered him to strip, which he did without hesitation. A nice cut cock and balls. Hussein could not resist spanking his smooth arse.

    When the time came for the handsome American to feast upon my own arse, Brian was a simpering mess.

    " Yeah, now you will lick the sweat right off Tarkan's arse!" Moharem told Brian while I slid off my trousers.

    The handsome American held forth his hands ... bound in front now ... in a final desperate cry for mercy. He whined and cried so much that eventually I became embarrassed for him. But Moharem didn't have an ounce of mercy in him.

    " Get ready to drink down Tarkan's arse - sweat as if it's fine wine, you sorry bastard! But first, kiss 'em! Kiss Tarkan's arse, or I'm going to use my feet to kick your fucking head right off your shoulders!"

    My comrade ordered as he tossed our bound captive back down to the mattress. Then I sat beside Brian with my bare arse in front of his head. He inhaled the heady scent of my arse. Then he scooted in close and gently kissed my cheeks ... then kissed slowly up my crack. His tongue explored the sensitive areas around my anus, working down from my crack to the smelly opening.

    He had to lick Moharems's arse again as well. He couldn't help but to giggle and wiggle his butt as Brian did this. He licked around his anus as if he were a starving man lapping at the last few droplets of water. He only stopped when Yancek took a hold of the handsome American, injected him with some unknown narcotic in a plastic syringe, then seized his genitals and began to slowly tickle Brian's scrotum ... tormenting our captive with a combination of ever-increasing pain and excitement. Eventually Brian's dick became engorged, and Yancek began to pump Brian's tool ... stopping every time the handsome American came close to shooting his load. Moharem joined in the torment sitting on Brian's legs and slowly tickling the soles of his feet.

    It wasn't long before Brian's main source of torment was them preventing him from cumming. I was transfixed by Brian's dick ... it was as perfect as the rest of his body. It was beautiful. I hungrily put his mouth on it, swirling all around it with my tongue ... and it wasn't long before Brian swelled even fatter in his mouth. And, after I sucked like a madman for a bit soon found myself nearly swallowing a mouthful of Brian Walsh's jizz. Taking my mouth off him in time his still hard dick spurt ! Hussein cruelly wanked him to cum a second time ....

    After his second shoot, the handsome American's body seemed more sensitive than ever to touch.

    Brian was sweating bullets now as he lay on the mattress, convoluted and panting. Suddenly I reached down and touched his bare foot ... one mere touch ... but Brian's whole body convulsed and his foot jerked violently. Moharem laughed at the sight of this.

    I started lightly scratching our captive's right foot and Hussein began playing with the toes on his left. Brian was squirming and going ballistic, and he knew it would only get worse.

    After binding his ankles with shredded strips from his Brian's trousers, my comrades and I attacked the American's tender soles and soon I began going after the tops of his feet. Moharem tied Brian's two big toes together, and then all of the captive's toes were bent back and held by Moharem ... just before Hussein and I attacked his soles with twice as much vigor. Brian Walsh looked as though he would go insane from the feeling of our twenty fingers on his feet. When I got tired of tickling his soles, Moharem took over for me as I did for Hussein. We raped Brian's ticklish size 13 feet. The handsome American would find no relief from our onslaught.

    " No! NOOOOOO!!!" Brian strained against the strips of cloth binding his wrists and ankles, jerking feverishly, violently as sweat trickled down his body in torment-ridden trails.
    We were all amused to see him thrashing about as much as his bonds would allow. His face was red and tears were streaming down his very bruised ... but still very handsome ... face. He was begging like I'd never heard anyone beg before,


    Moharem touching it softly laughed derisively at Brian's reaction and motioned towards our captive's crotch, "Hey, this dog is actually getting off on having his feet tickled. This wretch's dick is rock-hard again!"

    Brian's dick was rock hard yet again from Moharem's touches! The ticklish sensations in his feet were made unbearable! We eventually tired of playing with him so Brian's wrists and ankles were untied. We then pulled our unconscious captive's arms above his head, tied re-tied wrists securely together, and then attached the rope to one of the bars in the window above the bare mattress. Moving to the foot of the mattress, we repeated the action with his ankles.

    By this time I decided that I wanted to give our blond guest more personal attention. So I jumped onto the mattress and slammed the young American's cock into the back of my throat! My writhing muscles vibrated on the boy's swelling dick. Brian raised his blond head, his sky-blue eyes riveted on my vigorously sucking mouth. I got him close then stopped sucking ! Then when he'd lost his erection, sucked again and enjoyed this game a few times.
    Hussein and I then taking a foot each sucked on his toes while Moharem told him to wank off !
    He did so which we knew meant he'd be sensitive so then we tickled his feet mercilessly whist Moharem laughed at our captives predicament and so began nights of devilish torment for our ticklish guest ...

    Eventually Brian Patrick Walsh, a reporter for the American newspaper The Daily Breeze, was released from our Turkish prison on June 9 after more than four years of detention without trial. Walsh, who would claim he was raped and tortured by police and prison guards during his detention, must still appear in court to face charges that he is a radical hate monger as well as a drug smuggler. The prosecutor, who was not named in the report, said he was seeking a jail sentence of between one and three years for Walsh on the charge of "inciting enmity and hate by making false accusations of abuse"

  30. #30

    Gettin' James Bond

    007 was in trouble. He had been chasing the evil Russian spy, Ivan Denisovich, down a dark Baghdad street when suddenly found himself being the one pursued. Ivan had literally disappeared, but now Bond was being chased by some vicious local thugs. He had fired his last shot at the fleeing Ivan and his black dress shoes kept slipping on the wet bricks of the narrow alleys in which he found himself. He had been watching Ivan at the black-tie affair at the British Embassy when his prey had fled. Bond had left the exotic Persian beauty he had been flirting with and followed Ivan. Now he was in desperate flight to escape these nameless goons. He was too young not scared but salivating from the intense danger and excitement his present situation had created.

    Bond could hear the gang closing in on him as he turned (slid) around a corner. Damn, those silly shoes with the paper thin soles! Besides being as slippery as hell, he could feel every stone on the ancient streets. His heart jumped as he realized he had turned into a blind alley. Nothing but solid walls and no place to hide with his pursuers scant seconds away. He cursed his youthful arrogance for not having a backup pistol and prepared for hand-to-hand combat.

    Suddenly, a door opened out of the solid, featureless wall. A veiled woman beckoned him inside. He jumped in and quickly surveyed his surroundings: a dark room lit by a single bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling, stacks of huge Persian carpets, and the slender, dark-haired mystery woman. He started to speak but she put a finger to her veiled lips and urged him over to a dark corner. She bade him to squeeze behind a pile of carpets and hide in the narrow space between them and the wall. He hesitated only until he heard someone try the door he had just come through. He heard excited, foreign voices and then something large pounding against the door. He squeezed behind the rugs, holding his breath to fit in the tight space. His face was pressed into the rolled carpets and his back against the wall which felt like it, too, was covered with some sort of rug or tapestry. He narrowed his eyes and steeled his nerves as he heard the door give way and the men rush inside.

    As he arched his back against the wall, it suddenly gave way and he felt himself falling backwards into the wall hanging. The wind rushed out of him when he landed, but he did notice two pairs of slippered feet near his head. Before he could react, the two youths attached to the feet quickly rolled him up in the rug on which he was laying. He found himself face down, rolled up in a scratchy rug with only his head and feet exposed. His arms were pressed tightly to his sides he could barely move his fingers. He was trapped!

    By now, he was surrounded by the gang that had been chasing him. Although they all wore traditional, loose-fitting clothes, Bond could sense their strong bodies. Their faces were young, handsome, and brutal. All wore sneers on their swarthy faces. One of the men stepped up to Bonds head and used his dusty boot to lift his chin up from the floor. He laughed as Bond struggled to escape the humiliating foot.

    "Ah, Mr. Bond. You do not like my dirty boot" the man stated in perfect English. "Perhaps later you will beg me to let you lick this boot and the big, dirty foot inside. Indeed, you may very well lick the feet of all my friends before the night is over."

    The man removed his boot from Bond's face and snapped his fingers. Bond felt himself being lifted by several of the men and carried over to a large work table directly under the single light bulb. Strong rope was wrapped around the rug to ensure that the secret agent would not wiggle free. As Bonds mind furiously tried to figure a way out of this mess, the loud men grew silent. Bond strained his head and gasped as he looked right into Ivans malicious eyes.

    "I believe you were looking for me, Mr. Bond, he said with a truly evil grin. Well, you have found me. Shall I come along peacefully?" The room erupted in laughter. "As you might imagine, I shall require some information from you. Specifically, I need to know certain things about Her Majesty's plans here in Baghdad. Don't lets be a hero, Mr. Bond. Long, drawn out interrogations are a bore."

    "Go to Hell!" Bond heroically replied.

    "I see you lost one of your expensive shoes, Mr. Bond. I think the other one should be removed for the sake of symmetry." The man who had spoken earlier removed 007s left shoe, leaving both feet clad only in black silk socks. Bond flexed his toes nervously. He mentally prepared himself for fire, knives, or something equally gruesome.

    "Mr. Bond, what an interesting position you find yourself in" Ivan said as he walked around to Bonds feet. "In this part of the world the foot is recognized as an important part of the body. It is not ignored as it is in the West. Allow me to introduce you to the pleasures the foot can bring." Ivan began stroking Bonds black sheer socked feet using his fingertips to slide over them slowly, menacingly.. Bonds foot jerked at the first touch, but then he steeled himself to the strange feelings.

    " You see, Mr. Bond, how pleasurable this can be? ... But perhaps such gentle stroking is too bland for a man of your experience. You might prefer more of a scratching motion." With that, Ivan began using his fingernails to scratch the bottom of the spy's size 12 socked foot. Again, Bond involuntarily moved his feet to try to get away from the relentless fingers. This time he could not make himself stop, no matter how hard he tried. He felt horrible laughter welling up inside and bit hard on his lip to quell it.

    "Mr. Bond, you are not ticklish...are you? Imagine, an international playboy as ticklish as a schoolboy?"

    "No! Stop it! I'm not...leave my bloody feet alone, you cretin!

    "Such ingratitude Mr. Bond... I am treating you to an ancient Eastern experience and I am rewarded with your temper." Ivan dug his fingers into the crevice at the base of Bonds toes and wiggled them.

    "Ahhhaa! Oh! No!... OOOOH! S-stop it!"

    Ivan only increased the pressure, running his fingers up and down the desperately wriggling feet. Bond tried to keep quiet and still, but the insidious stroking was maddening. He broke out in regular bursts of laughter followed by increasingly shorter periods of self control. His heart went into his mouth when Ivan began slowly removing his captives moist, sweaty socks. He curled his toes frantically to try to keep them on.

    "What the bloody hell are you doing? Don't do that!"

    James Bond's bare feet now stuck out of the Persian rug, pink and vulnerable. The feet were masculine, large and well formed with strong, even toes and a high arch. The soles were clean looking with smooth, creamy flesh tinged with pink at the toes, balls, and heels. The instep was meaty and the tops had strong tendons leading up the lightly haired toes to the trimmed and shiny nails. Bond inexplicably blushed as the roomful of men stared at his feet. He felt naked without his shoes and socks. The idea of being completely dressed except for his feet in a roomful of men who were fully dressed and had him in their power made him feel weak as a kitten. Englishmen do not go about barefoot.

    Ivan began the torture again and 007 lost all semblance of control as his bare feet were tickled. Ivan was an expert at this and his fingers never lost contact with the helpless feet. His tone had changed from affected formality to smirking villain, his true nature.

    "Ha! Bond, what a spy you turned out to be. As ticklish as a girl. Yes, Mr. Secret Agent, I am going to tickle you to death. Your brain will be pudding when I am though with you. How about right here on your arch? Ah, that's the spot isn't it Mr. Bond?"

    "HAAAHAHA HAARRRGH! Noooo-N-N-ooo! S-S-S-top it, Arrgh! NOT THERE!"

    "Y-You bastard! I-I'll kill youOOOH NOOO! Ah-aha-haaaa-ha-ha. Argh! P-ple...no, I won't...AAAAAAAAahahaaaahahoooooeeeee! Please, p-please..." Bond dissolved into gigglish torment.

    "Beg all you want, superspy. We've only begun to destroy you."

    Ivan nodded to one of the men who came over to the end of the table with some silk strands. Ivan stopped his torture and the man instantly began using the silk to tie Bond's toes together. He ended by tying the two big toes together, which effectively removed Bond's ability to even wiggle his toes, his only relief from the tickling. Bond felt the panic rising as he saw Ivan smiling at him while running a long, stiff feather between his fingers.

    "This feather feels so soothing, Mr. Bond. Imagine how it will feel on the bottoms of your feet and between your tied-up little toes. No more wiggling for them. You will not be able to scrunch up your toes anymore. These smooth soles will just have to enjoy the feather. Feel how soft it is." Ivan stroked Bond's sweating face with the feather, causing him to squirm. His whole body shuddered when the tip of the feather invaded his ear. Ivan went back to the feet and started stroking the stretched-out soles. Bond spasmed and tried to move his toes. The silk prevented any movement and only increased the torment as it rubbed between his toes. The feather on his bare feet was driving him crazy. He felt more helpless than he had ever imagined possible. Still, he could not betray his country.

    Ivan tired of the feather and James sighed as he felt it removed from his tortured feet. He groaned when he saw what Ivan had picked up instead, a wicked looking brush. The men in the room gave grunts of approval as Ivan held up the innocent instrument of torture.

    Bond, drained of almost all dignity, said in a shaking voice, "No more, no more please, I cannot tell you anything, so please, in the name of God, stop!"

    "Forget it, Bond. It's too much fun to see you squirm like a worm. You are going to cooperate or I will let every man in this room have a go at your feet. Their imaginations will be your undoing. You may find ten tongues licking between your tied up toes or a beard running furiously up and down your soles or strong white teeth nibbling your arch. One of them might cover your feet with honey and let the hundreds of alley cats in Baghdad in to feast on your feet. Know this, Bond, you will surely be mad by morning unless you tell me what I need to know." Then Ivan applied the brush to Bond's feet.

    After the insidious feather, the rough brush made Bond's mind explode. He thought he would die from the sensations coursing through his nervous system. The bristles explored every nook and cranny of his feet and scrubbed the tops of his poor, straining toes. Bond began shaking his handsome had back and forth as the feelings in his feet overcame him. Sweat was running down his face, along with tears. He could not decide which was worse, the fierce tickling or the impossibly tight bondage of the rug. He noticed in his fevered brain that his famous cock was rock hard from the friction of rubbing against his silk boxers and the rug. Just as Bond thought he might actually have to talk, the torture stopped.

    The ropes were removed and the rug dizzingly unraveled. He rolled onto the table, disconcerted. Strong hands grabbed him and ripped off his sweaty tuxedo. Before he could throw a punch, he was bound again. This time, the fiendish Russian hung the agent from a hook in the ceiling. His bare arms were raised over his head exposing his armpits and highlighting his young muscles, strong, smooth biceps and triceps, and corded, hairy forearms. His legs were spread wide and raised to the ceiling also, which had the effect of exposing his entire groin and asshole to the room. The men all whistled and made lewd comments about his hard body, dripping cock, and pink, open asshole.

    "Your stubborn refusal to cooperate has resulted in this situation. I shall not be able to control these men much longer." One of the drooling men came up to Bond's uncut cock and began tying it with that silk which was still wreaking havoc on his toes. His balls were tied down tightly and the silk strands covered his cock. The bastard had pulled down his foreskin and stopped the silk bondage right below the exposed pink head. Precum dribbled onto the red silk. Bond squirmed at the exquisite sensation, then shuddered as Ivan brought a feather down on the cock head.

    "UUHH! OOOH! Noo-Oh my God! Please! OOOH! Not that! I really c-c-an't bear it!"

    Ivan laughed and slowly moved the feather down the silk covered shaft and over the balls.

    "NOT THE BALLS!!!"

    Goosebumps appeared over the secret agent's entire body as his balls were cruelly stroked. That feeling, however, was nothing compared to what Bond experienced when Ivan worked the feather over the cord that ran from Bond's balls to his asshole. Bond shrieked and his whole body tensed as he felt that secret part of his body relentlessly stroked by that horrible feather. Ivan kept going over the cord with a slow, steady hand. Bond was babbling and shaking all over, promising anything if only the fiend would stop. With a nasty grin, Ivan brought the feather right to the rim of Bond's asshole.

    Ivan slowly stroked the opening of Bond's virgin asshole as he described how the feather would feel on the inside of his hole. "Feel it, Bond, the soft innocent feather slowly stroking you to madness. Imagine how it will feel inside, scraping gently against your velvety lining. The silky fronds exploring that secret region. You know, you will never be the same. No man gets fucked by a feather and feels the same about himself. You will always remember the exquisite, helpless feeling of the feather and my complete control of your sanity."

    Bond shuddered and sweated. The feather had already driven him halfway to insanity and he was dreading what was coming. Yet, his asshole twitched and his cock continued to drool. He wiggled his butt to escape the feather, but to no avail.

    Ivan gestured to one of the men who approached Bond with a hungry look. Ivan nodded and the man began stroking Bond's right wrist. The man's fingers were soft and warm. His touch teasing. He started slowly moving up the underside of Bond's arm, titillating the soft, white flesh. Bond's heavy breathing got heavier as the man worked his way up the arm. He jumped and gasped when the man hit the inside of his elbow, the joint between the triceps and the forearm. Ivan was still stroking just the rim of his asshole, and now a third man started stroking the creamy, hairless inner thighs of the spy with fur mittens. He jerked and tried to bring his legs together, but they were splayed in a near split. His powerful thigh muscles strained in vain. Yet another member of the gang started gently teasing his pink nipples, which became even harder than they were. Another began sucking on his tied up toes even licking between each toe,an insanely ticklish spot and still another used a feather to create ever smaller circles around his belly button. Now, the fingers were in his right armpit. He screamed as those unstoppable fingers probed and teased his sensitive pits. His cock was straining from the stimulation to his body.

    All at once, everyone stopped and Bond held on to a fleeting, pregnant second of hope. Ivan laughed and plunged the feather into his now open hole. Bond's entire body went rigid and he saw blinding white light. Ivan worked the feather like a dildoe, screwing the wide open ass of James Bond. His hole spasmed and tried to close in order to protect itself from the alien sensation.

    "A-a-alr-right! AAAAHHHHRRRRGGGHHHAAAAA! Y-you win! St-stop, PLEASE! I can't stand it OOOOOO! No! Really, I'll t-talk!" Bond was buying time. He had no intention of talking, but he had to stop the torture to try to think. If only his cock weren't so hard. He had to cum soon. He was not used to being denied release.

    Just as Ivan was about to ask Bond the question he needed the answer to, a boy came running into the room, breathless from running. He spoke in excited tones to Ivan. Ivan handed the boy a substantial sum of money and the boy left as quickly as he had come. Ivan turned back to Bond with a bigger and more sinister grin than before.

    "Ah, Mr. Bond. I have just learned that the information I required from you is now totally irrelevant. Your mission is a complete failure. The Supreme Soviet is has learned more than you ever dreamed possible at the party we so abruptly left this evening. I fear I must leave for Moscow immediately. You are no longer necessary. I have enjoyed this night together. It seems you have also." He drew a circle around Bond's cockhead and James shuddered. "So long, Mr. Bond," Ivan said as he walked out of the room. He turned at the door.

    "Oh, yes. The local boys will take care of you."

    Bond nearly cried as he looked around the room. Left alone with these lust crazed barbarians. Tied up and exposed, cock tied and dripping, asshole gaping, and every sensitive, ticklish part of his body on display.

    "Now listen, fellows..."

    Bond was silenced by something being forced into his mouth. A dirty sock! It was put in by that first man who had taunted Bond with his boot. Bond's eyes grew wide and the men began taking their boots off.

    "Alone at last, Mr. Bond. Remember our earlier conversation? You have nothing to give up. Ivan has paid us well to get you and how he is gone. You are ours to play with for as long as we like. We have watched your reactions tonight and we know your spots and the places on your body where a single finger can make your cock jump and dribble. We are going to do things to your body that will have you begging to cum. In case you've wondered, those silk bindings on your cock and balls are not just for aesthetics. You will not spill your seed so long as your dick is so bound."

    The man had swung himself up to a rafter so that his now bare foot hung right over Bond's gagged face. He used the big foot to stroke Bond's face. He grabbed the straight nose with his toes, causing Bond to scrunch up his face.

    "When you are ready to lick my feet, Bond, shake your head and I will remove the sock."

    Bond stubbornly shook his head "No!"

    The torture began again with Bond's bare feet getting two sets of fingers and each armpit another set. His ribs were massaged and his cockhead feathered. The big bare foot still played with his face, the musky smell affecting Bond's confused brain. Suddenly, he shook his head "yes" and the tickling stopped and the sock removed from his mouth. The foot was shoved into his mouth and he have a few half-hearted licks. The man gestured and Bond's bare feet were again tickled. Bond quickly began licking in earnest.

    "Very good, Bond. Your tongue feels good between my stinky toes. See, I am not ticklish like you, little boy. Perhaps I shall take you away to be my boot boy. To be chained and naked as my slave, always aware that I could slowly tease you to death with my fingers and a feather or two. I would make it so you could spill your seed, yet keep you in constant heat. Think of it, Mr. Bond, naked at my feet for the rest of your life, only a stroke away from insanity."

    James Bond was used most basely for the rest of the night. He serviced the bare feet of every man in the room, and then every cock. His own feet were regularly teased, as was his cockhead. As dawn approached and the last man had finished with Bond's ass and had fallen asleep, exhausted, on top of his comrades, Bond took a breath. Could they really all be asleep? Bond was weaker than he ever remembered being, and his sexual frustration and over sensitized body left him frazzled. He had to think. He heard a door slowly creak open and he saw a young urchin standing in the doorway to the alley. The young man stole over to Bond on silent feet and signaled him to be quiet. He cut Bond down from his restraints and, surpassingly, lifted the weak man over his shoulders. He stepped over the worn out villains and carried Bond outside. Bond felt himself passing out from relief as the boy carried him through the predawn street of Baghdad. He drifted off into exhausted sleep.

    Bond woke with a start to the noonday sun. His ordeal came flooding back to him as he tried to rise. Oh no! He was tied up again, hands over the head, legs spread, and still naked. He was on a filthy mattress in a small, dirty room. His rescuer came into view.

    "What's going on? Who are you? Thank you for saving me, but why have you tied me down?"

    The boy spoke no English. He had watched last night as the men had tortured the westerner, and he had drooled at the sights he had seen. Now it would be his turn. He pulled from his pants a long feather he had grabbed from the site of the torture. Bond groaned as the boy crawled toward his tied bare feet smiling at him !

  31. #31


    I'd been watching this guy at my high school for a while. He is a senior, 21 years old, and a jock. He is one of those ghetto Mexican guys, the ones that are into rap music and baggy clothes. I always see him hanging out with his girlfriend, making out with her. I get jealous every time I see her getting kissed by him, he is VERY hot and I want him. He has a muscular physique, and a sexy deep voice. I have heard him laugh before; it's a nice, deep laugh that makes me want him even more. One day, while he was walking out of the school with his girlfriend, I followed him, seeing if I could get him alone. He walked his girlfriend to her car, a white Lexus, and kissed her goodbye. He then walked to his car, parked just behind his girlfriends. It was a Honda Civic EX. His girlfriend drove away as he got into his car. I looked around, there was no one around, so I quickly made my move. I approached his car just before he shut the door and asked him if I could borrow his cell phone, I told him I needed to call a toe truck for my car. He said yeah and turned away from me to get out his phone. I then quickly pulled out the handcuffs that I had in my pocket and locked one shackle onto his left wrist. "What the fuck!?" He said angrily. He began to get out of the car to get me but I kicked him, sending him back into the car. I jumped on top of him and forced his arms behind his back. After a brief struggle I managed to handcuff his wrists together. Now that I had his arms incapacitated, I needed to get his legs. I pulled out another pair of handcuffs and prepared to shackle his ankles together. He kicked at me as I tried to put the ankle cuffs on him, so I grabbed his legs and tightly held them down. I then cuffed his ankles together. He was now in my control. He shouted and cussed at me as I struggled to put him into the back seat of his car (he squirmed a lot). After finally getting him into the back seat, I pulled out some duct tape and taped his mouth shut so I wouldn't have to listen to him. I climbed into his front seat, found his car keys, and drove his car to my house.

    When I arrived at my house, I dragged the guy out of his car and into the house. I proceeded to heave him up the stairs, into my bedroom, and onto the bed. I uncuffed his ankles and forcefully tied his legs to the ends of my bed just under his knees (I like to leave the ankles exposed). Next I uncuffed his wrists and tied them up on the headboard of my bed. He squirmed and struggled to get out of his bonds, but they were very tight, he wasn't going anywhere. I stood back and looked him over; he looked SO hot tied up. He was wearing white low-cut Adidas shoes, very short white ankle socks (so short I couldn't even tell he was wearing socks), very baggy denim shorts, and a baggy plain white T-shirt. I began by kissing him on the cheeks and sticking my tongue into his ears and licking them, I noticed that he had a pair of those diamond earrings that rappers like to where on his ears. After kissing him, I moved down to his shoes, I ran my hands teasingly down his legs until I got to them. Since he is one of those ghetto Mexican guys, he doesn't tie his shoes, instead he hides the laces behind the tongue of the shoe and bulges the tongue out by shoving folded up socks under it. I pulled off his shoes and, sure enough, some folded up white socks fell out from inside the shoes. I looked at the guy's socked feet, they were beautiful! The socks were very short, only going up to a little above his heels. They were also very tight on his feet, showing off every curve on them. He wiggled his toes around as I moved in close and began sniffing his feet. They smelled great. He had been at school all day so his feet were sweaty, and I could smell it. I began tickling his feet with my index fingers, his socks felt moist from sweat. The guy began bucking and thrashing as my fingers ran up and down his socked feet, I could hear his muffled screams under the tape on his mouth. I then yanked off his socks, exposing his bare feet. I immediately began to tickle his bare soles. They were soft and warm, and VERY ticklish! The guy continued to thrash and scream as I spread his toes and tickled the smooth skin between them. He tried to curl his toes to keep me from getting between them but I just pried them uncurled and held them back with one hand and tickled underneath them with the other. I could feel the toes that I was holding back trying to wiggle as I tickle around the ball of his right foot. I moved down to the sides of his smooth heel and tickled mercilessly. After about five minutes on the guy's right foot, I moved on to his left foot. Again I held his toes back as I tickled underneath them, going from the ball of his foot, to the VERY ticklish center of his foot, over to the sides of his foot and down to his heel. I then began tickling his ankles, they weren't as ticklish as his feet, but I still got him to squirm around. Next I began sucking on his feet. I stuck his right big toe into my mouth and scraped my tongue all around it, tasting his salty foot sweat. After soaking all of the guy's toes in drool, I began to lick the soles of his feet. The taste of his sweat was strong here, it was great! As my tongue ran all over the guy's bare feet, ankles, and legs, he still thrashed and bucked because my tongue running all over his feet was tickling him.

    After fifteen minutes of tasting and touching every part of the guy from the knees down, I decided to do a little bare chest tickling. I moved up to his shirt and ripped it off, exposing his muscular, well-tanned chest. He had a tattoo of a dragon on his right upper arm, which made him even more sexy to me (I love tattoos on a guy). Then, barely touching him, I began tracing his nipples with my index fingers. He screamed in laughter under the tape and bucked like crazy as I traced my fingers from his nipples to under his pecs. I went down to his sixpack and ran my fingers through all the grooves of his sixpack muscles. I lowered my head and licked his sixpack, causing his stomach to twitch. Next I stuck my tongue into his bellybutton and rolled it around inside, it didn't have that much of an affect on him, but it was still hot. I then began tickling the guy's armpits, which had gotten sweaty during his torture; my fingers found their way through his small patch of armpit hair and tickled the soft skin hidden beneath. After tickling his armpits, I sniffed my fingers, I could smell sweat again! As I licked the sweat off of my fingers, I looked down at the guy's shorts and noticed a bulge had developed over his crotch. “So, now you really want to play, huh?” I said playfully. I unzipped his baggy denim shorts and reached inside, moving my fingers around inside, searching for the opening in his boxers. I quickly found it, reached into that opening, and grabbed his large, erect cock. I pulled it out where I could see it, it was PERFECT! I looked over at the guy, he had tears coming out of his eyes, he looked terrified at the thought of what he knew was about to happen. I shoved his hard cock into my mouth and began sucking it. I slid his cock quickly in and out of my mouth, shoving it so deep in that I could feel the head bumping against the back of my throat. After about a minute, I felt his cock beginning to pump his load. A moment later, he spurted a large load of cum into my mouth; I pulled his cock out of my mouth and sloshed the warm cum around in my mouth for a while, getting the taste of it. I then swallowed it all. The guy had his head back, his eyes were squeezed shut in discomfort as I put his cock back into his shorts and zipped them back up. :Wasn't that fun?" I said to him playfully. I reached down to his bare feet and tickled the sole of his right foot. More ticklish from cumming, it was time now to savour his feet and so I ran my tongue along both soles and sucked hard on his toes, a tongue bath lasting hours ! He'd never tell, I was the Principal's son and he'd be out of school so he now was my tickle - slave and knew the rules ... I was Tickle - Boss !

  32. #32

    Straight Mark's Ordeal!

    I gazed down at Mark's taughtly stretched, sweating body strapped to the X-frame at wrists, waist, thighs, and ankles. I had put him in this position over two hours ago. His eight inch cock was iron hard, and his large balls were struggling to pull up against his cock, but were prevented by the ball spreader/stretcher I had imprisoned them in.

    I had spent the last two hours putting Mark through a intense regimen of tickling and sexual torture to keep him on the verge of the orgasm he so desperately needed.

    It all started when he mistakenly walked into my play room and saw my collection of bondage equipment, and devices. Mark knew I was bi-sexual, and I could tell it intrigued him, and he thought about what it would be like with a guy.

    When he came back into the living room he told me what he had found, and asked me if I really had used the equipment on anyone. I assured him that I had used it on many occasions on both men and women with great pleasure for me and them.

    I could tell that Mark was having trouble figuring out how anyone could have any pleasure when strapped to one of my torture devices, and he said so.

    I walked back to the play room with Mark following to show and explain about the various devices and restraints.

    First I tried to explain to Mark that not everyone I played with wanted to be spanked, whipped, or hurt. I told him that quite a few of them enjoyed the feeling of being helpless, and fantasizing about really being tortured.

    Mark then asked what I did with them if I wasn't inflicting pain. I told him I enjoyed a variety of sensual tortures, but especially tickling, and erotic denial. The tickling he understood, and from the way he reacted I could tell that he probably was quite ticklish, but he wasn't sure what erotic denial was.

    I asked him if his girlfriend ever gave him head, and if he let her work on his cock until he came, or if he took over and fucked her mouth when he needed to cum. Mark admitted that he usually wound up by bringing on his climax when the urge got to be to great.

    I then explained that erotic denial was basically the denial of climax until I decided to allow it.

    Now we had been drinking some earlier, and that combined with the fact that his girlfriend had been out of town for the last week was having a definite impact on his libido. I could tell because of the bulge beginning to show in his pants.

    I took a chance and asked Mark if he ever had any fantasies about bondage.

    He admitted that he had, but never acted them out. I asked if he was the dominant or submissive in them. He replied that he always was tied up in his dreams, but didn't dream about pain, but instead he dreamed about being forced to perform sexually. Now I had suspected for some time that Mark was leaning towards some experimentation with the bi scene as he always seemed interested when I told him I was with a guy, or a m/f couple the night before.

    I reached down and lightly stroked his cock through his pants. Mark jumped in reaction, but didn't pull away as I slowly stroked him with my finger tips. I felt him become rock hard. "You've fantasized about me playing with your cock haven't you Mark?" I asked him as I continued to lightly stoke him through his pants. Mark hesitated, then slowly nodded yes. I reached out and unbuttoned his jeans. I gently pushed his pants and briefs down to his ankles, and looked at a very nice eight inch cock with some pre-cum already at the tip.

    Mark's eyes were closed as I slowly stroked him, and he let out a moan when I rubbed my thumb over the purple head of his cock. I told him to get undressed, and I would show him how some of my toys worked. His eyes opened and looked at me with uncertainty, and a little fear. I told him not to worry, there wouldn't be any pain involved, and promised him the cum of his life. I had known Mark and Lisa, his girlfriend for a couple of years, and that combined with the slow stroking of his cock convinced him he could trust me.

    After he undressed I led him over to the X-frame table I had built. The frame could be moved from the horizontal to vertical position, and could be spun 360 degrees. Also each of the arms and legs could be cranked in or out as needed. I told him to climb up and put his arms and legs into the leather cuffs at each end. Mark slowly did as he was told and I quickly secured the restraints at wrists, and ankles. I then took leather straps and ran them through metal eyelet's in the frame and secured him further at waist, and thighs. Now he couldn't move his hips no matter how hard he tried to. I then took a blind fold and covered his apprehensive eyes so he would be forced to wonder what I had in store for him. I thought about gagging him, but decided it would be too much for his first time. Besides I love to hear my victims beg and plead for mercy when I tickle and tease them. I then cranked the leg portions of the frame out until I heard him gasp, so that his legs were stretched as wide as possible. I now had complete access to his beautiful cock and balls.

    I now stepped up between the legs of the frame and put the ball spreader/stretcher on Mark. This would help to keep him from cumming by keeping his large cum swollen testicles from drawing up towards his cock (try it sometime, it works).

    Mark's iron hard cock was oozing quite a lot of pre-cum, and I scooped some up on my finger and held it to his lips, "taste yourself" I said. He hesitantly put out his tongue and took the drop on it, then swallowed. "Get used to it" I said, you're going to taste more before we're done. In fact you'll beg to drink my cum. Mark said nothing, but shook his head. Tasting his semen was one thing, but mine? No way. But I knew from long experience that after a couple of hours of tickling and sexual torment, he would beg to suck the cum from my now hard cock.

    Now I was ready to begin having my fun. First I took a bottle of baby oil and squeezed a trail of it from each ankle all the way up to his shoulders. Then I began to slowly rub it into his skin. Mark soon began to moan with pleasure, but I took care to rub every part of him but his aching cock. Throughout this procedure I would scoop up some of his pre-cum and make him lick it from my fingers.

    Finally the oiling was done, and I stood back to observe my work. Mark's cock was throbbing in time to his heart beat as he waited to see what I did next. Now I moved up between his legs and slowly lowered my mouth to his rock hard balls. Slowly and gently I began to tongue bath them. Mark gasped then moaned with the sensation, and I could see him trying to move his hips to bring his cock into range of my licking tongue, but of course he couldn't move. Now I began to lick my way up the shaft of his straining penis, making it wet and slippery all the way to the hard purple oozing head where I swirled my tongue around in his pre-cum which was really starting to flow now. By this time Mark was really moaning and was beginning to whisper "please" under his breath. I actually think that he thought I was going to get him off, poor guy. His cock seemed to have a life of its own, as I tongue bathed it, it jerked and bounced in the air.

    Now I began to gently suck on just the head, while tickling his balls with my fingers. Slowly I began to ease my mouth down his shaft using lots off saliva(I love wet sloppy blow jobs)and tongue work. Mark was by now really moaning and trying to fuck my mouth, but with his body tightly strapped down he wasn't having any luck. I sucked and licked him until I felt he was on the edge of exploding in my mouth, then stopped. Mark begged me to finish him, but I just smiled.

    "Mark" I asked "do you want to cum now?". "Oh GOD! Yes, please!" he said.

    I smiled, and asked "and do you want to suck my cock first?", knowing full well he wouldn't. He shook his head no, "allright then on to the next phase" I said.

    Over the years I've worked out a pretty good system for breaking my victims to my will. I use a combination of intense tickle torture and sexual teasing to the edge of orgasm, alternating back and forth. Its also terrific fun for me, I love to hear the shrieks of laughter and moans of frustrated sexual tension. I now determined to see if I had been right about Mark's ticklishness.

    I began Mark's tickle torture by gently running my fingers up his ribs to his armpits. Mark gasped and tried to squirm away, but of course couldn't "Mark, are you ticklish?" I asked. Mark immediately began to beg for mercy, before I even had begun to get serious. "Want to suck me off yet?" I asked. Mark again shook his head no, which made me glad as I enjoy nothing more than subjecting my victims to intense tickling. I now concentrated my tickling efforts to working my way down each ticklish rib towards his waist, and listened to his howls of laughter and breathless begging for mercy. I continued up and down for awhile until Mark was gasping for breath, then stopped so he could get some air. Now I moved down to the end of the X-frame for some of my favorite tickle torture. I just love stroking a ticklish foot! I very lightly ran a finger across the arch of his left foot. The straps groaned as Mark tried to jump off of the X-frame. "Well, it looks like I've found a good spot to continue your treatment from" I said. "PLEASE NO!! NOT MY FEET" Mark begged as I proceeded to tickle him till he was on the verge of passing out. I then stopped and again asked if he would like to suck the cum out of my cock yet. Mark again shook his head no, but between gasps for air he asked if he could masturbate me instead. "No way Mark, you're going to beg to drink my jism before we're done" I said.

    Now I went back to work on his cock, which was even harder than before and standing straight up in the air visibly throbbing. I began to touch my tongue to it in different spots causing Mark to cry out and jerk against the restraints holding him down. I again went down on him and tasted his wonderfully salty pre-cum, and worked up and down his straining shaft. His balls were beginning to turn red because they were trying to pull up toward his shaft, but couldn't because of the ball stretcher. Again I stopped just before he could cum, and again Mark refused to service me, but it took him longer to think about it before saying no.

    Now two long hours later, after all the tickling and sexual torture, Mark had finally had enough. "Please, no more! I can't stand any more! Please, let me cum!!" Mark begged. "You know what you have to do Mark, in order to cum" I said. "OK OK I'll do it!!" Mark groaned. "Do what Mark?" I replied, tormenting him further by slowly stroking then squeezing his cock. "You know!!" he said. "No Mark, I don't know" I replied. "I'll suck you off" he whispered. "I want to hear you beg for my cum Mark, and make me believe it" I said. I went to the end of the X-frame and began to slowly stroke the soles of his feet. Mark squirmed as much as he could and blurted out, "Yes, OK I want to suck your hot cock, please!!! "How bad do you want to taste my cum Mark?" I asked, continuing to tickle his feet. "Please, I want to taste your cum!! I want to drink it all I want to feel spurt into my mouth and flow down my throat!!" Mark practically screamed.

    By now I was in desperate need for orgasm myself, and wasted no time in climbing up on the frame. First I removed the blind fold so that Mark could see me as I lowered my iron hard cock until it was just out of his reach. "Mark, I want you to lick my balls" I said as I lowered them within his reach. "You only get to cum after you've sucked me dry" I told him. Mark hesitated, then slowly put out his tongue and began to lick my hard nuts. I continued to tease his cock to keep him on the edge while he worked on me. After a few minutes of this I again pulled away from his lips. "Open you're mouth Mark" I commanded him. Again he hesitated, but his desperate need for climax finally caused him to comply and open his mouth. My rock hard cock was now an inch from his mouth, and I watched as a drop of my pre-cum dripped down onto his tongue.

    "Now Mark, I want you to slowly suck my cock until I cum in your mouth" I said, and Mark moaned in lust now, his tongue straining to lick my cock. "If you don't swallow it all Mark, I won't let you cum, and will torture you for another hour" I threatened him. I slowly lowered my self and watched my cock slide into his hot sucking mouth, God it felt great!! I held myself in place and let Mark move his head up and down to serve my cock, and he was definitely getting the hang of cock sucking quickly!

    I knew it would not be long before I filled his mouth with hot sticky semen. I began to suck on Mark's stiff cock to get him on the screaming edge of his release. I could feel my balls pull up tight against my cock, and feel the hot sperm begin its blasting way up my shaft. I pulled my cock out of his mouth until just the tip was in his mouth. Mark's head strained upward to keep my cock in his mouth. I yelled at Mark, "Suck me Mark!! Here it cums!!!!!! Swallow it all!!!". And I began to shoot spurt after spurt of my steaming jism into Mark's mouth! Mark gulped and swallowed as fast as he could, but the huge load that I had built up in the last two hours was too much and some began to slide down his cheeks and drip on the floor. It seemed that I unloaded into Mark's mouth for an hour while he sucked and licked me. Finally, my cock throbbed out its last ooze of sperm, and Mark cleaned my cock clean of cum.

    All this time I had been stroking and sucking on Mark's shaft to keep him on the edge. Now I decided to torture him just a little more. "Mark, what did I say would happen if you didn't swallow all my cum?" I asked as I wiped some cum off his cheeks. Mark panicked, "Oh God, please no!! Don't torture me any more!! I can't stand it There was too much, I couldn't swallow it all, Please!! " I smiled at him and said, "Well, since this was your first time, I guess that I'll be merciful; but you will come and submit to me again next weekend!!" Mark looked at me with horror in his eyes, but also another quality that I interpreted as lust. "OK! OK! Yes!! I'll submit again, but please, PLEASE let me cum!!! " Mark begged.

    I moved up between Mark's legs and looked at Mark as his eyes tried to will my lips onto his straining cock. Now I began to run my tongue around the by now dark purple head, and lick at his piss slit. Mark moaned desperately and began to chant the word "PLEASE" over and over again. I moved my mouth down over the head, and began to slowly suck up and down the shaft. Mark's balls were like two stones they were so hard and red. I reached up and unsnapped the ball spreader/stretcher, and I could swear I heard his testicles slap up against the shaft of his penis. Mark screamed as I did this, and I knew he was there!!!

    I reached up and began to tickle his super ticklish ribcage as I sucked his cock. "HAHAHAHAHAEEAEEAEAEAEAEEAA NONONONONONONONONONO !!!" Mark screamed as his first huge spurt of jism slammed into my mouth. Mark alternated between howls of laughter and screams of orgasmic pleasure as his rock hard eight inch cock pulsed load after load of white hot jism into my sucking mouth! I couldn't swallow fast enough to catch it all, but the biggest kick for me when I suck a cock to climax is feeling the sperm shoot into my mouth, and there seemed to be no end of the fluid in Mark's large balls.

    As I continued to tickle Mark's ribs, and suck him dry, Mark gave one final scream/laugh more. I kept sucking and licking his cock until I had milked every drop of hot semen from it, then stood up and looked at Mark's sweaty body. His balls seemed a size smaller now and not as red, and his beautiful penis was beginning to go limp. All in all, I thought. a promising beginning! gagged him with one of his own socks and then gave him just a taster of future torments which would include ice, I sucked on his sweaty, sensitive toes and licked his soles for a further twenty minutes or so which drove him ballistic as I'd hoped it would and the sensations got him hard again which meant a final intense foot tickling to keep him in order so using a new tool, an electic toothbrush between each toe and along his soles this scene with him ended ... the next to be more intense !

    I removed the cuffs from his wrists and ankles along with the straps from his body, and began to plan on what form of torture I would subject my new and now willing suck slave to next week!

  33. #33


    My mother owned a boarding house in Wheeling, West Virginia in the thirties. I was 22 yrs in 1938 and anxious to get out of that small town and see the world, but I was needed at home. My mom had four other kids, and my dad had gotten killed in a mining accident. My mom wanted me to go to college, but we had to save for it, so I helped her run the boarding house. In May of that year, we took in a young traveling salesman who was new to town. He was handsome in an East Coast, Waspy sort of way with shiny blond hair, fair but high colored skin, blue eyes and an athletic gait. He acted like he was from a good family and he looked the part, but I thought to myself the scion of a rich New York family would not be selling silk stockings in Wheeling, West Virginia during the Depression.

    Still, he paid his weekly rent on time and was nice to mom and the little ones. With me, however, he was an A-Number-One Asshole. I was actually pretty close to his age, he 25 years old and he got a kick out of ordering me around. I had to be nice to all the boarders, mom was pretty strict about that, and he picked up on that right away. He would make me run errands for him "Boy, I'm bushed. Why don't you run down to the corner and get me pack of cigarettes."---or "Charlie, trot on over to the mailbox and mail this letter to my girl back in Buffalo."

    By far the worst thing he did, though, was to make me get a foot bath for him after a hard day pounding the pavement. "Charlie, my size 11 dawgs are killin'me. Damn, that sidewalk is hard and hot. Get that basin and make sure the water is hot. Last time it was only luke warm. Now, would your mom like the way you are treating a paying guest."

    He would always smirk when he ordered me around like that, and it really burned me up. He had some kind of thing about his feet. He liked to keep them in good shape, and I guess that was important in his line of work. I also think he secretly felt that nicely cared for feet and hands were the mark of a gentleman and to maintain his self image, he had to keep them clean and pampered. I had to admit that he had nice looking feet for a guy who was on them all day. They were masculine with veins on top, but they were smooth and pink on the bottoms. Creamy even. His toes were strong and the nails were always trimmed and clean. Same with his hands.

    I think he knew I really resented getting his foot bath for him so he started asking for it even more often. He would make me stand there while he pulled off his shoes and socks and wiggle his toes. "Aah. That feels good. These babies don't smell too bad, do they, Charlie?" I would try to be stoic, but my clenched jaw must have been a give away.

    Then one day, he went Too Far. After I had laid the basin of hot water and Epsom salt down and started to leave his room, he said,""Hey Charlie, not so fast. My feet are really hurtin tonight. I think I need more than just that old foot bath. Why don't you rub˜em for me."

    I was steaming, and about ready to tell him off when he continued. "You, know old lady Fitzgerald runs a good boarding house down the street. I bet that daughter of hers would rub my poor tired feet for me." We couldn't afford to lose a paying boarder, so I swallowed my indignation and my pride and picked up his big bare feet. He was grinning in a very disagreeable way at my humiliation. His feet sure were soft, I thought. I massaged them for awhile and he moaned appreciatively. I didn't say a word to him but I was determined to get him back for that indignity.

    My chance for revenge came sooner than I expected. The next night after the foot massage was a Saturday, and Mr. Salesman went on a bender. He had apparently received a dear John letter from the girl in New York and he set out to drown his sorrows. Mom didn't allow drunks, so he had to sneak in after we had all gone to bed. I heard him, though and watched him stumble to his room. I waited a few minutes and then crept into the darkened hallway. I opened the door to his room and saw him passed out on his stomach on the still made bed. His trousers lay rumpled on the floor along with his shirt and shoes. He was clad in boxer short, a sleeveless white undershirt and one black sock. I was mesmerized by the one bare foot shining in the moonlight that streamed through the window.

    My plan crystalized in a heartbeat and I went into action. I snuck down to the basement and got some sturdy rope. I went back to his room and smiled to myself as I looked down upon my snoring enemy. He was a handsome devil, but he had to pay. I carefully flipped him over so he lay on his back. He was out to the world. I raised his muscular arms above his head and lashed them to the headboard. I spread his strong legs and tied each ankle to the posts at the foot of the bed. I left his one sock on. Then, I went back to bed and waited til morning.

    On Sundays, mom and the little ones went to church and then to dinner at her sister's house. The boarders were left to fend for themselves, and most of them left early in the summer for a day at Oglebay Park. I felt pretty safe in assuming that my salesman and I would be alone for a good part of the day. I grinned when I heard a bellowing yell about ten that morning.

    I walked into his room and saw him spread out just like I had left him. "What in the hell is going on here? Untie me, Charlie."

    "Not so fast", I said.


    " I don't like the way you're always bossing me around. I think you should be nicer to me."

    "Fat chance of that, little boy."

    "See, the thing is, I'm not a little boy. In fact, you're not that much older than me. If it wasn't for my mom, I would beat the tar out of you for being such a pain in the neck."

    "Hah! Untie me and I'll show you who's boss around here."

    I ignored him and walked over to the foot of the bed.

    "You only managed to get one sock off last night. Must have been some evening. You smell like a gin mill. Bet Mom wouldn't like that. Hey, do you want a foot massage?"

    I reached down and touched his bare foot. I just used one finger to lightly drag up his sole and the reaction was electric.


    "What's wrong. I thought you like having your feet massaged?"

    "That's not a massage, damn it. Hey! Cut that out!"

    I continued stroking the sole of his creamy smooth bare foot and he was fidgeting and testing the ropes. Lots'a luck on that”I was an Eagle Scout.

    "I think someone is a little ticklish," I taunted.

    "Aw, c'mon, be a pal. DON'T! OH! Charlie, really ”I mean it--- NO! HAAHA!"

    I started picking up the pace and brought more fingers into action. I loved watching him squirm and try to kick. He was trapped and I was just beginning to torture this arrogant bastard. I guess I'm what you would today call a sadist, but back then, all I knew was I was getting an amazing thrill from tickling this guy's bare foot and watching him suffer.

    The black socked foot was flopping around like a fish, so I used my other hand to start scratching that sole. His struggles doubled. "Which one tickles more?", I innocently asked. I stuck my fingers up under the toes of the socked foot where the material was bunched up and wriggled them around a little. This drove him wild and he bucked harder than ever.

    I really liked his bare feet better, so I pulled off the sock and went to town on his bare feet. After a good long foot tickling session. I eased up a bit and surveyed my victim. He was covered in sweat and trembling. His face was red and he was still laughing even though I wasn't touching him. My eyes were drawn to his spread open armpits. The skin there was as smooth and creamy as the rest of his body with only a little blond hair. I climbed upon his chest.

    "H-Hey. What are you doing?"

    I wiggled my fingers and brought them slowly towards his pits.

    "Oh no! C'mon. You've done enough. I'll be nicer, I promise OOH NOOO!!

    I dove into his pits and was rewarded with a screech. I toyed with the damp hair and stroked the skin all around the pits. I poked and prodded and tickled and he laughed and laughed.


    He was whipping his head back and forth as I diddled in his pits and along his sides. He was entering that panicked state where he was being transported to a place he didn't know and didn't want to know. The closer he got to that place, the more excited and intent on my job I became. I felt intense pleasure at the tickling torture I was subjecting the salesman to, and I didn't want to stop. I was surging with power.

    I couldn't help but notice his crotch was now bulging. I wasn't a sex expert, but I knew I could have some fun with a hard cock. I actually had a reputation for making a guy squirm. My pals and I got down Spider Watson one night and I torqued his big cock until he was crying for me to let him spew. Yeah, I knew how to treat a cock.

    I spied his open sales case on the floor and a wicked idea came into my head. I climbed down from his drenched body and picked up some of his wares. "Ya know, a real man wouldn't sell a pansy item like stockings. I bet you like wearing these things yourself, don'tch ya?"

    He was too stricken to speak and I don't think he fully understood what I meant, but he weakly shook his head. I took a silk stocking and dangled it over his body. I dragged that stocking along his sweaty white body and he gasped and broke out into a million goosebumps. I untied his left leg and lifted it up. He was still too weak to kick me, so I wrestled the silk stocking on and secured it with a fancy looking garter. I retied the leg. He looked mortified at the humiliating sight of his muscular leg encased in silk, but his cock gave up all pretenses and surged out of his fly. He was dripping. His cock was hard and the same delicate pink as his toes and heels.

    "Oh, yeah, fella, you're gonna get it now. I bet you know all about tickling a foot all done up in a silk stocking, don't you? Well, now you're gonna find out what it feels like. I'm gonna do a number on those tootsies of yours and you are going to suffer. That silk scrunching up in your toes is gonna drive you batty, I bet. Just think, this punk kid got you tied down with your own silk stockings on your big smelly feet, and is going to tickle you to death. Think you can stand it?"

    "Oh, no, kid, Please. I'm begging you. You're killing me. I can't take it. It tickles too much. I'm going crazy," he practically sobbed.


    I began gently stroking the bottom of his silk covered foot and I knew I had hit upon a gold mine for both of us. For me, I was liking the feel of the silk on my fingertips and the obvious distress it was causing him. For him, well, let's just say having his foot tickled while he was wearing a silk stocking was revolutionary. If I thought he had jumped and squealed before, I was in for a nice surprise. This guy went totally crazy.


    My fingers glided over the smooth material and his poor foot twisted and squirmed. His cock looked even bigger. I thought it was time to move on to the next level of fun and spend some time with his dick.

    I grabbed another silk stocking and held it up for him to see. I grinned my most sinister grin as I stretched that diaphanous piece of material in both hands and then snapped it . I laughed to myself because I probably looked like a demented strangler. In a way, I guess I was, because I was about to strangle his hard dripping cock.

    "Okey-dokey, big boy, let's see how this silk feels on your little friend."

    I moved closer and he began thrashing and sputtering. I drew the toe of the stocking all around his groin, but never touched his cock. You should have seen him jump when I hit his balls. He jumped and gasped, but I noticed his cock straining to make contact. I gave him his wish. I gingerly put the silk stocking onto his throbbing dick. His straining erection was entirely covered by the silk. He moaned and wriggled trying to enough stimulation to cum, but I put a stop to that by tying off his cock and balls with his own shoe string. More teasing, much more teasing, for Mr. Salesman.

    I used my fingertips to gently stroke the length of his cock. It spasmed with every caress and gasped and moaned from the horrible teasing. He cried when my fingers danced a little jig on his purple cock-head.


    "Yeah, does that girl of yours treat this piece of meat like this, buddy? Betcha ya like to pound her with your tool and then roll over for a smoke. I could do this all day, pal. I wanna see those balls of yours turn blue."

    After saying this, I started playing with those low hanging babymakers. He couldn't stand having a guy even touch his precious balls, and here I was tickling˜em with impunity.


    I had the big time travelling salesman right where I wanted him. I played with him like a puppet all afternoon. You should have seen when I took off my shoes and socks and made him sniff and even lick my feet. He hated that. He hated it even more when I lay down next to his feet and started tickling them again as I used my bare toes to torment his balls. When it got to be about the time that mom was due back, I untied his dick and tickled his feet hard as I stroked his tortured dick with my bare foot. Pretty humiliating to have to cum on the foot of a punk like me. I, of course, made him lick it up and then scooted down to his sweaty feet and reminding him how he'd liked me bathing them began licking his sensitive soles and sucking on his toes making him hysterical and knowing he'd never ask me again !

    I never had much trouble with the salesman after that. If he started getting uppity, I would just smile a little and wiggle my fingers. Brought him into line just like that and there were times he forgot his weakness got drunk and afforded me the pleasure of reminding him of it ... gagged with one of my sweaty worn socks, I got to know his cock and feet pretty well !

  34. #34


    "I got it!" announced Ross. "I know for a
    fact that Joey absolutely hates being tickled!"
    "Hm, okay, so what can we do with that information?"
    "Well, I've always wanted to just really tick him off
    by tickling the crap out of him until he passes out or
    "Well, what could we use? Do you have a feather or
    "Oh, you bet I do," Ross assured him as he walked over
    to the window and pulled out a long, black feather from one
    of the houseplants. "I've been saving this for a rainy
    "Oh, so that's why there's been a feather in the fica
    plant. So you've been plotting against him for how long
    "Well, ever since I found out about his little
    "Wow. So how much free time do you have exactly?"
    "Too much. I've got some rope we could use too."
    "For what?"
    "For tying him down! It's no fun if he has the chance
    to run away!"
    This was a pretty weird prank, Chandler thought.
    Couldn't they just short-sheet his bed or place the
    tarantula on his sleeping face or something? "Well, if
    that's what you want, then let's get to it, I guess."
    Grabbing four pieces of rope from underneath the sofa
    cushions, the two men entered Joey's bedroom. "Just how
    much Joey-torturing paraphernalia do you have stashed around
    the apartment?" asked Chandler.
    "Oh, you have no idea," replied Ross.
    The two men entered Joey's bedroom. He was still
    sleeping, but had apparently woken up early to prank the two
    guys. Ross turned to Chandler and whispered the plan of
    attack to him. "Okay, here's what we do. Very, very
    quietly and without a lot of commotion, remove his blanket,
    and then take these two pieces of rope and secure his hands
    to the bedpost. It'll probably wake him up, but by the time
    he realizes what's going on, he won't be able to move his
    hands. Getting his feet afterwards should be a lot easier.
    Sound good?"
    "Aye, aye, cap'n," responded Chandler, and he moved to
    action. He crept up to the right side of the sleeping
    Joey's bed, towards the head. Look at him, he thought to
    himself, so innocent-looking and yet such a jackass. He
    took up one corner of the bedsheet and lifted it up very
    slowly and quietly, without too much commotion like Ross had
    said. Peeling it over onto the other side, he took the
    other corner of the bedsheet near the foot of the bed and
    likewise peeled it over quietly, so as not to wake their
    victim. Tiptoeing to the other side of the bed, Chandler
    then took the folded over bedsheet in his two hands and
    quietly tossed it to the floor. Joey, who was only wearing
    boxers and nothing more, was now perfectly vulnerable.
    Kicking the bedsheet aside, Chandler noticed a jar of
    something yellow-ish underneath the bed. Upon closer
    inspection, it had turned out to be a jar of Vaseline, the
    same jar with which he no doubt greased up the bathroom
    doorknob. That cunt! Grabbing the rope from Ross, he took
    Joey's right hand and tied it in a double-knot around the
    bedpost. Joey stirred and opened his eyes slightly upon
    feeling his hand seized. He tried to move it but found that
    it was somehow stuck to a certain spot. Before he could
    realize what was happening, Ross had tied his left hand to
    the left hind bedpost. Joey was at this point wide-awake
    and extremely confused and disoriented.
    "You guys, what are you doing?" Joey asked, concerned.
    "Oh, just some good ol'-fashioned revenge," responded
    Chandler. "This is for the Vaseline on the doorknob!"
    "Yeah, and the tarantula in the cereal cabinet!" Ross
    chimed in.
    "You guys, can't you take a harmless little prank?"
    Joey replied.
    Ross and Chandler looked at each as they both worked on
    securing Joey's feet to the bedpost. "No," they replied in
    unison. "Besides, blind revenge is just as much fun!"
    "Guys, seriously, I don't like being tied up like this!
    What are you going to do to me?"
    "Oh, nothing. Just makin' you want to die," Chandler
    responded. Ross and Chandler had now secured Joey's feet
    and hands to the bedpost. Joey, who was very nearly naked
    and now bound to his bed, felt extremely vulnerable in this
    position. Ross brandished the black feather that he'd been
    dying to use on him for ages, and Joey had a sudden sinking
    feeling in his gut as the realization dawned on him: they
    were going to tickle him!
    "Um, guys, can't we negotiate something here? Please
    don't tickle me!"
    "Struggling will only make it worse, Joey!" Chandler
    Standing over their captive, Ross traced the feather
    along Joey's right nipple. He let out a nervous laugh as
    the fine bristles of the feather traced across his exposed
    teat, and the nipple instantaneously grew hard. His fingers
    began to tighten into fists as he braced himself for his
    impending torture.
    Ross then began to stroke Joey's left nipple with the
    black feather, tracing around the areola in circles and
    darting it across the hard bud. Seeing that this was
    driving Joey crazy, as evidenced by his distressed chuckling
    and spastic jerking, he traced the feather along to his left
    armpit and darted it back and forth across the hairy pit.
    Joey started to crack up, but his laughter did not
    necessarily mean that he was enjoying himself at all.
    "I'm sorry, am I inconveniencing you?" asked Ross with
    mock pity. "Pardon me, I didn't mean to give you such a
    shitty start to your day!"
    "Oh go-hahahahahaaaaoooood, please sto-ahahahaaa-op!
    This isn't fuahahahahaaannny anymore!" Joey managed to choke
    out while dying with laughter. The feeling of the feather
    brushing against his sensitive skin was too much for Joey.
    Suddenly, he felt an irritating sensation on his feet.
    Through the tears welling in his eyes, he could make out
    Chandler at the foot of the bed, tickling his feet with his
    fingers. His toes arched with pain as Chandler's fingers
    danced with abandon on his naked, exposed soles. Chandler
    at first had felt weird about doing this, and he was pretty
    sure guys like him and Ross shouldn't be engaging in acts
    like this anyway. There was just something sorta, well, gay
    about tickling another guy. However, he couldn't resist
    torturing Joey.
    Ross had now moved onto the other armpit, letting the
    feather trace along his hairy pit, smiling all the time
    while watching the bound Joey struggle. Joey was beginning
    to work up a sweat lashing around on the bed, trying
    desperately to escape this horrible torture. Of course, the
    more he writhed and struggled on the bed, the more Ross
    wanted to exact revenge on him. He moved the feather to
    Joey's ribs, running it up and down and in figure-8s across
    Joey's torso. Ross was definitely taking immense joy in
    what he was doing.
    Moving the feather down to Joey's bellybutton, he let
    it stir around inside his hollow navel. He seemed to be
    particularly sensitive in this area, for he started to
    thrash around on the bed as if he was suddenly just lit on
    fire. As he twirled the black feather along Joey's delicate
    navel, Ross laughed out loud at the pain he was putting him
    through. He should've known better than to put that
    tarantula there! Chandler, too, began to laugh as he
    attacked Joey's feet more fiercely with his fingers,
    skipping them lightly over the soft soles and ankles. The
    little fucker sure was getting it, and he was getting it
    Ross, seeing that Chandler was occupied with Joey's
    feet, decided that he would focus on Joey's package instead.
    Screwing with his nuts would drive him, well, nuts! He
    traced the feather along the fabric of Joey's silk boxers,
    circling around Joey's crotch. He knew that he could still
    feel the awful pain through the thin fabric. Plus, he'd
    noticed that he was sporting a boner, so if he kept it up,
    there'd be an extra element of humiliation for the little
    fucker. Feeling intrepid, Ross lifted up the elastic band
    of Joey's boxers and swiped the feather underneath, tickling
    Joey's cockhead and balls. Joey at this point was cracking
    up and Ross was having difficulty with his mission as Joey
    jerked and bucked underneath him. He wasn't about to be
    deterred; he had decided that Joey must absolutely learn his
    Chandler's fingers on his feet and Ross' feather
    stroking his cock and balls, it was much to his dismay that
    Joey found himself in the very awkward position of having a
    hard-on. Surprisingly, under all the torture he was being
    subjected to, he had maintained his morning wood and it did
    not seem that it would relent any time soon. He struggled
    and groaned and pleaded with his two captors to let him go,
    that he would never prank them again, but his screams only
    encouraged them, and, unfortunately, his erection as well.
    He could not understand why this was apparently arousing
    him. What he was going through he wouldn't wish on his
    worst enemy, and here he was getting turned on by it?
    Joey was struggling with both his aching cock and with
    being at the mercy of Chandler's fingers and Ross' feather.
    Regrettably, the latter seemed to be impacting on the
    former, and shot through the intense pain and pleasure of
    being tickled, he suddenly felt like he was about to shoot a
    wad. He couldn't! If he came while Ross and Chandler were
    tickling him, he knew he would never be able to live it
    down. He desperately struggled to focus only on the pain of
    being tickled, but it was sort of difficult when you had a
    feather toying with your cock, teasing it with a combination
    of fierce torturous pain and fierce erotic pleasure.

    Eventually, Joey couldn't take any more. Bucking and
    screaming with disturbing pain tinged with even more
    disturbing pleasure, Joey's body tensed as much as possible
    under the hands and feather of his captors. Arching his
    back as far as his bound hands and feet would let him, he
    let out a room-shattering moan and then collapsed back on
    the bed. Ross and Chandler stopped in their tracks; did he
    pass out? Ross removed the feather from Joey's shorts and
    found that there was a bit of white substance clinging to
    the tiny bristles. It was semen! Their tickling had made
    him cum in his shorts!
    Chandler and Ross looked at each other and then at the
    exhausted Joey. He hadn't quite passed out, his eyes were
    still open, but he had gone through an apparently pretty
    intense orgasm. His shorts were completely stained with the
    sticky white fluid. Both men didn't really know what to do
    next. They both thought it was a bit strange that he should
    react in such a way. At the same time, the fact that they
    had been secretly arousing him with what they were doing was
    strangely.well, interesting to say the least. Even a
    bit.well, hot. The sight of the semen clinging to the
    feather in Ross' hand had piqued some weird latent interest
    in further explanation of what they could do with Joey's
    body while they had him tied up.
    "Damn, what do we do now?" Chandler asked.
    "Fuck if I know," Ross replied. "I totally didn't
    expect that to happen."
    "Do you think that would work on women?"
    "I'm sure any girl you bring home would just love to
    have that happen to her, Chandler."
    "But still, think about it.making a girl orgasm by
    tickling her cooch, that'd be pretty sweet."
    Ross had to agree. "Yeah, that would be. I can see
    you're definitely getting excited by it," he said, pointing
    at Chandler's bulged-out crotch.
    Chandler tried to cover his obvious erection up, but
    then pointed out to Ross, "Well, look at the pot calling the
    kettle black." Ross sheepishly tried to cover his up, as
    "Well, damn. What do we do now?"
    "I don't know, but I've definitely got the urge to jerk
    "Well, I meant about Joey," Ross said.
    "Hm.well, we could combine our two problems into one
    pleasurable solution," Chandler responded.
    "I don't really know what you're getting at."
    "We could humiliate him further, is what I'm saying.
    Like, jerk off on him or something." Chandler paused; did
    he really just say that?
    Ross was a bit dumbstruck by the idea. "Uh.you okay,
    "Well, I mean.we only do it to humiliate him, not to,
    y'know, get us even hornier or anything."
    "Well.I guess I see your point. We should use the
    Vaseline, too!"
    "On my dick? I don't know."
    "Well, not quite on our dicks. I know about this one
    technique that feels, really, really good. Trust me, man."
    And with that, the two men stood up and unzipped their
    pants. Ross pushed his Gap jeans down to the floor,
    revealing a pair of blue Hanes boxers with a small wet stain
    on the crotch, which he quickly pushed down afterwards.
    Chandler's Old Navy cargo pants were promptly removed, and
    following shortly were his plaid boxer briefs. Both men
    were sporting erect cocks that had tiny, clear droplets of
    precum glistening in the light of the bedroom. Joey, who
    had snapped back into reality, was starting to get a bit
    worried at what the two men had in store for him now.
    Ross reached underneath the bed, and fishing around,
    pulled out the jar of Vaseline that Joey had used to
    lubricate the doorknob. Removing the lid, he scooped up a
    generous glob of the sticky, waxy substance and applied it
    to the sole of Joey's left foot, smearing it all over his
    fleshy pads and in between his toes. He handed the jar to
    Chandler, who eagerly repeated Ross' actions. Taking a
    large glob of Vaseline with his index and middle fingers, he
    smeared his poor tickle victim's right foot with the oily
    lubricant, making sure to cover the entire sole and also to
    dig in between the toes like Ross had done.
    Both men pressed their stiff cocks against the oily
    soles of Joey's bound feet. They began to slide their cocks
    up and down Joey's slippery soles, creating an intense
    irritation in the heads of their dicks. It felt entirely
    different than just jerking off; the friction caused by the
    heads of their dicks rubbing against the slick skin of
    Joey's bound and exposed soles was nearly too much for the
    two men. It was a unique sensation and it was probably just
    as torturous as their tickling had been to Joey only ten
    minutes ago. This was a torture that they did not want to
    stop, though. The exquisite pleasure caused the two men to
    elicit more precum, which smeared onto the foot in addition
    to the Vaseline, making Joey's feet even more slippery.
    "So, wait, you've done this to yourself?" Chandler
    asked as he rubbed his dick against Joey's sole.
    "Well, not to my feet, of course. On my hand. It
    feels so fucking awesome."
    "Oh, yeah, definitely."
    Joey was writhing underneath with the sensation of two
    cocks being rubbed against his sensitive soles. It felt
    strange having his feet coated with Vaseline, and it felt
    even more strange having not just one, but TWO cocks sliding
    up and down along them. Even stranger was that the two
    penises belonged to his two best guy friends. He started to
    wonder if the two men had ever done anything like this
    before with each other or with anyone else. He knew that
    neither of them had any problem with homosexuality in
    general; Chandler's father was gay, and Ross had once dated
    a girl that turned out to be a lesbian. However, that
    didn't necessarily justify the highly erotic act that they
    were now performing on him. He began to wonder if either of
    them ever thought he was attractive, and so that's why they
    were doing this after all. He then reasoned with himself
    that this was just some sort of revenge prank that they
    wanted to play on him; that was initially their reason for
    doing this to him, right? They couldn't possibly have
    wanted to have sex with him. They were just desperate to
    get off and to pull a prank on him, so they combined the
    two. Somewhat satisfied with this explanation, Joey just
    tried to lie down and let whatever was going to happen
    happen. After all, it's not like he could've complained in
    the position he was in.
    Ross and Chandler, meanwhile, focused their thoughts
    squarely on getting off. They did not even stop to consider
    the fact that any three of the girls could've just walked
    right in and seen the sight of them masturbating with the
    assistance of Joey's feet while Joey was tied up on the bed.
    No, the sight of Joey cumming in his boxers was fresh in
    their minds, and they could still see the stains in his
    underwear as they massaged Joey's feet with their dicks.
    The slippery sensation was excruciatingly wonderful to the
    two men, and they continued to rub their cocks against the
    backs of their best friend's toes and up and down his soles.
    The only sounds in the room were the furious sliding of
    stiff dicks against oily feet and the heavy panting of three
    men, two of whom were extremely aroused and dying to get
    While Joey bucked and writhed under the power of his
    two best friends, Ross and Chandler began to wriggle
    themselves with the coming onset of their orgasms. They
    flicked their cocks up and down the smooth, oily pink soles
    of Joey's feet at an intense speed now, nearly duplicating
    the pleasure they had been receiving before. In turn, the
    intense feeling in their groins grew rapidly, and they knew
    that in no time they'd be receiving the gratification they'd
    been looking for. They had both hoped that it would be as
    awesome as Joey's orgasm had been just now.
    Their cocks fully engorged and prime to shoot at any
    moment, Ross and Chandler both inhaled sharply as they felt
    their nuts constrict beneath them. Their cum began to rise
    up the core of their cocks and, still rubbing their cocks
    against Joey's soles, with a sharp intake of breath, the two
    men both unleashed their seed on their victim. Two cocks
    sprayed two long, thick ropes of semen onto the backs of two
    exposed, naked feet, coating the soles and the backs of
    Joey's toes with sticky strands of white seed. After
    several more bursts of hot cum shot from their irritated
    dickheads, Joey's feet were completely covered in strands of
    creamy semen.
    Ross and Chandler collapsed on the floor from the
    intensity of their respective orgasms. They still couldn't
    believe that they'd done such a crazy thing as tie up and
    tickle their best friend until he came, and that then, in
    turn, they came all over their best friend's feet! They
    gazed at the sight of the still-bound Joey, who had finally
    stopped wriggling on the bed and whose feet were almost
    literally soaked with their glistening cum. It had
    splattered all over his toes and soles and was now starting
    to drip down off the foot onto the bedsheet beneath Joey.
    Unsure of what to do next, but at the same time
    brimming with curiosity, the men got up and knelt in front
    of Joey's cum-coated feet. Ross brought his head forward to
    Joey's left foot and rubbed his face in the sticky, sperm-
    laden sole, taking in the scent of his cum, the Vaseline,
    and the sweat from Joey's foot. Chandler repeated the
    action, burying his face in Joey's right foot and sticking
    his tongue out to sample the taste of his own semen combined
    with the sweat and the lubricant. The two men began to lick
    off their manshot from their captive's soles and toes,
    reveling in the unusual but enticing taste of their own cum
    mixed with the Vaseline.
    Joey could not believe what was going on. After having
    essentially jerked themselves off using his feet, they were
    now actually licking their cum off! This was so unlike
    either of them, and he was now more confused than ever.
    "Whoa, what are you guys doing?" asked an inflamed
    Joey. Unfortunately, the two men were lost in the pleasure
    of servicing his feet with their tongues and scooping up the
    contents of their orgasms from his pink, oily soles.

    After having licked up every last drop from their best
    friend's foot, the two men began to put their clothes back
    on. They made no effort whatsoever to untie Joey. Instead seeing his days worn black nylon socks on the floor put them on him ... " We're out to eat lunch Joey and these ... (lightly stroking the right socked sole getting an immediate ticklish reaction from Joey) will be dessert ! " said Ross and he and Chandler left smiling and winking at him.

  35. #35

    Breakin' Him!

    The IRA hero, whose implacable arrogance
    required a merciless titillation that would break down his deep, resistant
    frame of mind. Terence Cormack, 6'2 with size 12 feet was kept hard and horny everynight by my experienced assistants Tom and Lyle for two weeks after his arrival at the institute of correction..
    He dripped enough pre sap to lubricate many dry pussies, but he had not been
    allowed to cum. His hard pecker was kept primed. He was exercised and worked
    in hard labor during the days, but during periods of rest, and even when he
    slept, he was stimulated. If he cooperated, and there were some times when he
    did, he was allowed some relief from the steady diet of stimulation but most
    of the time he kept a hard sneer on his face, and fought any efforts tame his
    conduct. At night, a slender probe was strapped into his rectum, sometimes
    vibrating at a very low speed, sometimes shooting a low intensity shock of
    electricity up to his prostrate, or sometimes it was simply introduced to keep
    him focused on his sensitive fuck nut. His hands and feet were tethered spread
    eagle so that he slept on his back, unable to get to his dick or prevent others
    from touching him. Tom and Lyle enjoyed their work which was to intimidate, humiliate, torment and tease prisoners. They were
    allowed to masturbate him to the brink of ejaculation, gently probing and
    tickling his strong frame, finding ways to stimulate him (reporting back to me finding him particularly sensitive especially on his feet) but leaving him
    frustrated and hard, his big pungent balls reeking of the sperm that
    he had not been allowed to flush. A guy like Cormack was accustomed to
    relieving his needs on a regular basis but for the next two years, his dick
    would not enjoy the final moments of a clutching cunt wringing cum from his
    bull balls. His own erections at night as he slept were left unsatisfied, and
    the tracks of dried pre-cum were on his perfectly defined abs each morning.

    Now he was gagged and strapped in the Exam Room on his knees, with a spreader bar that
    kept his ankles wide apart, and another that kept his knees at a reasonable
    distance from one another. His torso was pulled up, with his arms stretched
    over his head and slightly behind him, and strapped wide apart. His head was
    kept immobile with a special restraint bar and truss, that prevented any
    movement. His had on a blindfold so he could not see what was coming. The
    angle his arms were pulled back, caused him to thrust out his chest. His big, socked
    feet were fully exposed, hanging off the edge of the dias on which he was
    restrained high arched and long toed. They had been tended to carefully by
    Tom and Lyle on my instructions, soft and smooth from massages with moistening creams, and given
    pedicures with all calluses removed and having been made to wear the same socks for two days so his feet would be ripe for me. I could smell they were. He had been given a clean water enema to
    clean him up, and now a slight sheen of perspiration covered his body, the
    deodorant put under his arms just a sweet rumor as he waited for his training.

    I pulled up a stool and sat down in front of his
    beautifully exposed body, using my bare hands to investigate his nooks and
    crannies. My fingers lingered at his nipples, tugged the hairs gently under
    his arms, scratching there to elicit immediate tremors from the ticklish
    sensations, probed the fully exposed and hairy navel, crawled up the inside of
    thighs, wormed up to the pucker of his anal knot, then ran up and down the soles of
    his socked feet. He reacting immediately to this trying desperately to kick out. I stopped the tickling and added humiliation licking his sweaty, socked soles and sucking his socked toes before peeling his socks off. I then tickled into his ears, under his chin, and beneath his nose.
    I lowered my mouth to his chest and began to suck and gently chew on one turgid
    nubbins, while I stroked his tumescent organ that had begun to erect the moment
    his body was touched...a promising result after only two weeks. I let the
    other hand slip to his anal crack, and my index finger scratched gently on the
    outside of his fuck hole, spreading the hair so I could find the tight little

    Macky erected immediately groaning into the gag but his rounded tit nubs reaching out to my
    rough fingers as they grazed the rubbery teats, my fingernail scratching at the
    taut knot of his anal portal causing his hips to swivel and squirm to avoid the
    intimate probe, and the thumb and index finger of my other hand roiling his
    delicate foreskin up and over the bubbling piss slit now dripping copiously
    with sticky lube. Much to his dismay, Cormack was on the road to surrender,
    his body betraying him each time it was touched, but his mind was still
    defiant. I signalled to Tom to remove the gag and Cormack who immediately yelled at whomever was touching him, furious that he was once
    again being used sexually with no personal relief or release.

    "Ya fookin' cocksucker, using a man like a woman...piece of shit...woon't face
    me like a man, a freak and a coward, that's all ya are...a faggot that likes to
    suck men's dicks and play with their fookin' bodies. Lemme go, ya god damn
    bloody coward...face me like man if ya can...."

    To which I responded with characteristic calm and dispatch. Macormack, is that
    how English prisoners used to think of you, when you and your IRA friends would
    strip them down and use electric shocks on there balls, frig their butts with
    rifle butts, and burn their tits with cigarettes? Is that what they'd say to
    you? Well, at least we're not damaging you. You're going to be perfectly in
    tact when we're through with you but that perfectly chisled body I and my assistants love abusing will do only
    the things it's allowed to do. You won't get to slide your big paw up and down
    that pecker again, unless you're given permission. You won't be able to stop
    sticking your finger up your butt to tickle that fuck nut, and you'll do it for
    us and other inmates here. You'll open your shirt and ply those tits for the admiring eyes of us all
    and be ready to shoot the moment someone else scratches and plucks
    them. You're going to be a wonderful trained monkey, Macormack. That tough and
    unforgiving attitude will be long gone, and you'll never again treat a man or
    woman with disrespect. When you're told to drop your pants, you will. When
    you asked to spread your ass checks for a quick inspection, you'll hop right to
    it. You'll submit your sensitive feet to be tickled and teased, tortured leaving methods and means up to those you submit them to. You'll stand at attention with a hardon for hours, longing for the touch
    of men and women who will use you like a lamp they can turn on and off. For
    the rest of your useful days, you're gonna shoot cum for the pleasure
    and amusement of us. I can't wait to see one of your performances!"

    Somehow, my comments did not set well with him and he spat venom as Tom and Lyle drew their stools up
    "Ya friggin' freak...I'll kill ya...I'll spend
    the rest of my life figurin' a way to get my bloody hands around your fookin'
    neck and I'll squeeze the life out ya with a smile on ma face!"

    "Oh you're going to smile Cormack, from the sweet sensation of what's about to
    happen to your body. My assistants and I are here and dedicated
    to help with your attitude
    adjustment." "Ya, you and what fookin' army...cuz that's what it take...you
    fookin' fag." Blindfolded, Macky
    was unaware of who was teasin. him where making each sensation worse.
    Tom now had bristle gloves on both of his 'hands.'
    The other two 'hands' were sporting life like artificial hands, including Then I pulled the extension from the navel area of
    the robot, its fifth appendage, toward Cormack's exposed anus. The thin
    flexible tube had the consistency of a snake's skin, and worked along the same
    premise, sliding up and moving back with a rippling appearance...all the while
    flexing. Only this snake did not have scales, but instead had a variety of
    varied bumps and independently twirling nodules, all with the consistency of a
    living creature. I gently lubed the "snake", coating it with the same nettle
    sap we had tested on Aaron. I slowly inserted the wicked thing up Macky's
    hairy bung, fixing it with adjustments of the dials to prevent it from sliding
    out, but allowed him to move his buttocks to either side and a bit forwards and
    backwards to soothe or avoid the horrible itching. The moment the thing slide
    home, rolling past his fat fuck nut, his hips involuntarily flexed and moved,
    and as the itching began, he recognized immediately what was happening.

    "What the fook....aaaaaahhhhhh fooking shit....get that thing outta me
    gut...you faggot... aaaaaggggggghhhhhh....uuuuuummmmmppppp.....ooooooo wwwwwww

    Then Lyle's fingers went to work plying his tits,
    probing his navel, scratching in his armpits, along his exposed feet soles, inside
    his thighs, and anywhere else the experienced sadist decided to explore. Now coupled with the inhuman itching up his butt,
    deep in his rectum, he was beginning to laugh from the prying, probing fingers
    which tickled him without mercy. Here was the big IRA stud, reduced to a
    gasping, groaning, laughing, helpless punk. "AAAAAAHHHHH...NNNNOOOOOO...ha,
    ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.....aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.... NOOOOOOOO!....STOP.....ha, ha, ha,
    ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.........I can't breath...stop,

    In the meantime, Tom's two hands suddenly joined the act, gently moving the
    bristle tipped finger pads and palms over the flesh not otherwise occupied.
    Uunder no condition, was Cormack to be frigged to ejaculation. He would be
    masturbated, for sure but if he came, it would be without any satisfying
    stimulation of his bloated and pulsing boner, and obscenely bloated prick tip.
    Instead, he would eventually cum from lack of control of his body, and then
    would erect again, working up to two more hapless ejaculations over the course
    of three hours. Found much more ticklish on his feet everytime which Lyle enjoyed discovering to his own amusement. Cormack would be given appropriate rest periods, sometimes being
    fooled to thinking his ordeal was over, his perspiration soaked body finally
    catching its breath and relaxing for a brief respite...then the machine began
    its work again. Finally, Macky began to sound like a man defeated, ready to
    negotiate for mercy:


    The sight of Cormack's powerful
    buttocks, grinding to avoid the awful sensations tingling up his bung hole, and
    the way his nipples thrust out to the plying fingers and brushing pads, how his
    firm muscles went taut, and how his completely exposed feet wiggled helplessly,
    toes flexing as the fingers and brush pads worked them slowly then faster but tortrously.

    I got excited watching my assistants work and contented myself playing with Cormack's big sweaty feet that I enjoyed forcibly tongue bathing, equally ticklish for him as my hot mouth explored toes to heels and then watch Lyle tickle them in his way which dove Cormack wild. I tickled them but clearly in a way more bearable judging from the reactions of Cormack, my principle weapon being my tongue on his feet which Cormack hated.

    Cormack agreed to the demands having suffered this way for hours three days and nights.

  36. #36


    So, one hot Saturday in August of that summer the guy who lived next door, who was going to be a senior, was outside washing his car. I was sitting on my porch watching him. He was a jock, a football player, and always walked around in a t-shirt, shorts, and his Converse Chuck Taylor white canvass high tops with his OTC athletic and white tube socks (plain and striped) pulled up th the knee (like every guy did back then...this was the 70's). I worshipped this stud and his socks. Anyway, he had taken off his sneakers and socks and put them aside before he started washing his car. At one point, the phone in his house rang and he went inside to answer it. Something came over me and I went over to his socks and sneakers and took his socks. A nice pair of thick, solid white, OTC athletic socks. I brought them into my house, went up to my bedroom and sniffed one of them and put the other one on my hard cock and jerked off. I came in less than one minute. They smelled great, like he had been wearing them for a few days.

    About a half hour later I went back outside and sat on the porch again. There he was, polishing his car. He looked at me when I came out to the porch and waited until I sat down. He said hi to me and I said hi back. Then, he stopped what he was doing and looked straight at me and said, "Hey, did you see anyone take my socks? They were sitting right next to my sneakers there?" I got so nervous and began to shake all over. "No," I said, "I didn't see anything". "Hmmm...." he said, "that's strange, they were right there with my sneakers and I went in to answer the phone and when I came out they were gone. Are you sure you didn't see anyone take them?" "No," I said. He stared at me for about 10 seconds and said "OK". Then, still staring at me, he paused for about 10 seconds again then said "That's kind of weird, don't you think? Who would want to take a pair of another guy's dirty socks?" "I don't know," I said. That was it. He continued to polish his car and I went back into the house, still shaking. Could he have seen me take them, I though? I thought Oh God, I hope not.

    Fast forward to the next weekend. I had been hanging out with my buds on the block and it was 10pm and I decided to head back into the house. As I got to my porch suddenly I heard someone say "Hey!" It was him, on his porch, beer in hand, in a t-shirt, shorts, and his sneakers and OTC striped tube socks on pulled all the way up to his knees. I said "Yeah?" and he said "Come here for a minute buddy". I went over to his porch and started shaking, thinking of the sock stealing incident the week before. "You want to come in and have a beer?" he asked. "Sure" I said, although I had never had a sip of any sort of alcohol ever. "Come in" he said, and I followed him into his house.

    I followed him into his kitchen and he got two beers out of the fridge, one more for himself and one for me. It was obvious he had had a few (his parents were away for the weekend). "C'mon and sit down for a while" he said, and I followed him into the living room. I sat on the couch and he sat across from me in a recliner and reclined and put his feet up on the footrest, facing me. I took my very first sip of beer. The TV was on but I don't remember what show was on. I was so nervous, I didn't know what to say or do. He started talking about high school and asked me how I felt about starting there and what I was interested in, etc. (I was more of a "brain"). As we drank our beers and talked I couldn't help myself from looking as his socks again and again. Finally, after about 15 minutes, it came. "Why do you keep looking at my socks, man?" he asked. "I'm not" I answered. "Yes you are" he said. I couldn't say anything back. I now knew he knew it was me who had taken his socks. I was shaking and frozen to the couch. I wanted to run out of the house but I couldn't move.

    "I saw you, you know" he said. "Saw me what?" I said. "You know," he said, "last Saturday when I was washing my car I saw you take my socks. I was on the phone and saw you do it, I was looking out the window". BUSTED. I didn't say anything.

    "So you took my socks" he said.

    I paused. I didn't know what to say. Well, I figured, if he saw me I mind as well fess up. "Yes," I finally said, "I took them".

    "Yeah, I know" he said, and took another swig of his beer.

    "You like guy's dirty socks or something? Why would you do that?"

    "Yeah, I do" I said.

    A big grin washed over his face and he chuckled. "That's weird, man" he said.

    We sat in silence for a few moments as he stared at me and I looked down at my lap. Finally he broke the silence.

    "Why don't you come over here and take off my sneakers for me" he said.

    I just stared at him, petrified.

    "C'mon, I'm not going to hurt you, just come over here and take off my sneakers. I was playing basketball all afternoon and my feet are sore, I could use a foot massage. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

    "Yeah" I said.

    "C'mon then, take of my sneakers and do me a favor then, it's alright, you'll like it, right?"

    "Yeah" I said.

    So, I got up off of the couch and went over to him. I bent over his reclined feet and, shaking, started to unlace his sneakers.

    "Get down on your knees and do it," he said.

    I got down on my knees and unlaced his sneakers and he kicked them off. I could smell his socked feet immediately. They had dark shadows from dirt on them that showed the contours of his toes and balls and heels of his feet, like he had walked around in them.

    He took another slug of his beer and said "Oh yeah, I really need a foot rub, go ahead, man." So, I stared to massage his sweaty, smelly, white, OTC, striped tube socked feet. I was shaking and had a hard on. I massaged them for about 15 minutes and he sat back and watched me and said things like "Oh yeah, that feels great" and instructing me where specifically he wanted me to massage them. Then, he said "Now sniff them." I froze.

    "C'mon," he said, "you like guy's dirty socks, don't you? So sniff them. It's the least you can do after stealing my socks."

    So, I put my face into his socked soles and started to sniff.

    "Yeah, that's it, sniff 'em. Nice size 12 sweaty jock - socks I've worn two days already" he said.

    As I sniffed them he started to rub them in my face.

    "Sniff harder," he said.

    I began to inhale his socked foot stink hard and deep. I was rock hard and about to cum.

    "Yeah, that's it. That feels good. You like that, don't you?" he said.

    "Yeah" I mumbled.

    "Fuck yeah," he said, "you're twisted man" he said, and laughed.

    I kept sniffing and inhaling his sweaty sock stink for a good 15-20 minutes as he watched me and kept rubbing them in my face. Then he said "Open your mouth." I did so without a thought, not even suspecting what was coming. Of course, he shoved one of his sweaty socked feet in my open mouth and jammed it as far in as it could go.

    "Suck my stinking sock" he said...and I did. It tasted like sock sweat and cotton. He put his other socked foot over my nose and clamped his toes over it and he said "Sniff...sniff HARDER" and I did. At that moment, I came in my pants. Due to my moans he looked down and noticed the spot appearing, larger and larger, on my shorts, and laughed. "Who would have thought," he said, and laughed.

    Then he took his socked feet down from the reclining position and told me to get down on the floor and continue to sniff and kiss his socked feet down there. I did so and, out of the corner of my eye looking up, I could see he had pulled his cock out of the leg of his shorts and had a big hard-on. He began jerking off.

    "Yeah, sniff my stinking socked feet, my big, stinking, sweaty, jock socked feet man. Sniff 'em, smelly the sock stink of a real jock," he said. I kept on sniffing and kissing his socked feet even more intensely. He kept talking like that for about 5 minutes as I was down at/under his socked feet when he sat up straight.

    "Oh yeah, bitch, sniff 'em, sniff my big jock socked feet" he said really loud and then I felt his hot cum landing on my t-shirt on my back. He shot a really big load, as I remember.

    I kept sniffing his socked feet for about another 2 or 3 minutes and then he said "That's enough for now ... You can go!"

    I got up, his cum all over my back, and just stood there.

    "I said go home man" he said.

    "Thanks," I said, not knowing what else to say, and I left.

    From that time through my freshman year of high school and the summer after (his senior year) he would have me come over to his house and do this about once every other week. Either his parents were out or we'd do it in his basement or garage. Then the fall came and he went off to college. I saw him come home for holiday breaks over the next four years but he never called me over to be his sock sniffer again and he never stayed for the whole summer.

  37. #37

    Big Daddy

    Lee's Dad was a single parent like my Dad and a Police officer. I
    would always love to do a sleep over at Lees's house because His muscular
    Dad liked to walk around the house at night relaxing in just shorts and
    his White socks. This drove me so crazy I would have to hit the john and
    beat off a few times on a sleep over. Lee's Dad was a handsome hunk of a
    man and his uniform fit him like a glove so tapered and showing off his
    flat stomach and powerful arms. This one day I was to be sleeping over
    Skip and I had changed into shorts and were in the Kitchen when his Dad
    came in late from work. he sat on the chair and was kicking off his
    Police shoes then he asked Lee to get him a pair of white sweat socks
    and some shorts. Lee rolled his eyes up in his head like he hated to do
    it so I volunteered. I knew of course where the things were kept. I gave
    Lee's Dad the socks and by that time he had his Police shirt and work socks off and I got a whiff of their intoxicating smell.

    I looked at those bare strong feet of his and just
    said." Would you like me to put them on for you Mr. Travis ? He looked at
    me kind of funny but then shrugged his shoulders saying sure. He held up
    the one foot and I knelt down took it in my hand and of course had an
    instant hard on. I held it then was guiding the fresh sock on his bare
    foot. I repeated this with the other foot and then was giving him a
    massage without his socks now on. I felt so great being able to touch
    this studs foot like this and He was smiling at me as I was feeling it and
    massaging it. After a few minutes I stopped touching them as we were going to the lounge to join Lee in watching tv.

    From the way Joe Travis was smiling at me I think he must have known I was
    really getting off on his feet. This turned me on all the more. Lee engrossed watching t.v. had not seen me molest his Dad's sweaty size 11's. No inhibitions Lee's Dad
    now in just his boxers and me on my knees still I could see his cock was
    half hard and peeking out some from the fly. MY massage had really turned
    him on. He just kept smiling as he was stepping into his shorts Then once
    I was standing up he said to me. You know Kevin that massage was great on
    my tired sore feet maybe later you can do that again for me? I told him I
    would love to any time. The next few hours the three of Us were in the family room watching TV. Lee's Dad in his shorts and white socks with me sneaking
    a peek at them whenever I thought I could get away with it. His feet were
    just so sexy in those tight white socks showing off his masculine high
    arch and toes. I longed to be able to touch them again. I would give
    anything to do what I was earlier that night with them. Lee had fallen
    asleep on the floor watching TV and Joe said to me in a low voice. "Kevin
    that massage you were giving me before felt so good" I looked at him and
    said "Would you like me to do another one for you? Joe seemed to be
    thinking I was looking down at those sexy male feet longing to get my
    hands back on them.

    Then he smiled and said "Yeah I would like that but
    why don't we go into my bed room where there is more room? I was so
    nervous walking behind this hunk into his bed room. Once there he sat on
    the foot of the bed held up his one foot and I knelt down taking it in my
    hand and began the foot massage. he was moaning almost like he was having
    sex. I at last pulled off his white sweat sock holding now his bare foot
    in my hands and was going all over and in-between his masculine toes then
    I leaned down and just licked at his high arch. The taste of his bare
    skin on my tongue was perfect. he let out a moan and just said Yea Kevin
    do that buddy do more of that for me" I was licking shamelessly now on
    his ankle, the soles of his feet then each toe in turn was licked and
    then I was sucking on his big bare toe as he moaned in pleasure. Nothing
    was said I just looked up from sucking his toe to see Joe pulling down
    his shorts and his big cop dick all hard and sticking up. he held it and
    smiled at me then raised his eye brows as if to say "Do this too" I had
    never sucked a cock before but I knew I was going to wanted to. I came up
    between his hairy strong legs and took hold of his hard long thick dick
    then I saw the drop of precum on it and licked it from the head of his
    dick. Tasting my first man cum. Joe moaned more and I took the whole cock
    head in my mouth then was moving up and down his massive thick bare cock
    shaft. Holding his hairy balls loving his bare dick in my mouth. Joe was
    fucking his dick into my mouth now and holding my head to him then He
    just said "Take it" and the flood of his man cum was shooting down my
    throat filling my mouth load after wonderful load of his cop cum flooding
    into me. My first cum load was wonderful and I knew I would be wanting
    more of it. I came off him licked his hairy balls and then down his legs
    to his strong bare feet again. I was again sucking his toe when I looked
    up and saw his cock was ready for more sucking had a fresh load of man
    cum for me. Back up between his hairy legs again and taking his cock into
    my mouth once more I sucked him a good 10 minutes and he was shooting
    more of his thick cum into my mouth.

    I slept in the bed naked with Joe all night and held his strong bare
    feet. Kissing and licking, tickling them every so often. In the morning Joe was off
    and he woke me up by putting that wonderful thick cock of his in my mouth
    and face fucking me with it. Shooting more of his cop cum into me. later
    that day he was able to send Lee to the local store and keep me alone in the
    house I gave him another foot bath and sucked off his cock again standing
    in the kitchen. I hated to have to leave but my Dad was coming home from a business trip in Europe and I was supposed to help my older brother Nick make dinner. I was alone with
    Joe and he said it was our secret and that he hoped I could stay over again next week ... on condition I told him that his feet would be ripe and ready for my insatiable lust ! " Deal ! " he said and we winked at each other smiling !

  38. #38

    Fun with the Pole!

    The train was already some fifteen minutes late when it crawled into the station. A speed restriction was in place, so the ten-twenty was going to be over an hour late by the time it reached London Bridge Station. It was always the same on a Sunday; if it wasn't track maintenance, it was either new signalling or a bridge repair of some kind.

    I was the only person on the platform waiting to climb aboard the train. Most of the compartments were empty, so I chose one that contained a potential conquest. The studious looking wimp was maybe 20 years old. He was tall, slim and blond, and had his nose buried in a paperback, a foregn student and luck would have it speaking limited English. An open rucksack, containing folders and notebooks, sat on the bench seat beside him. His attire was extremely conservative for the 1960s: he wore a dark grey jacket, a white shirt and black tie, and grey flannel trousers,white socks and his shoes were black lace-ups, which were in need of a good polish.

    He looked up and smiled as I sat down on the bench seat opposite him. A whistle sounded and the train pulled out of the station at a desperately slow speed. I now had ten to fifteen minutes to make my move before we arrived at the next station. The youngster returned to reading his book, but something told him that he was being studied closely. He looked up, and then quickly averted his gaze: the stern-faced man sitting opposite was staring at him in a very odd way.

    I ran a keen eye over the wimp's lanky frame as his face reddened with embarrassment. I wanted to make him feel nervous. The carriage had no corridor, so my prey had no safe place to go - one compartment door opened onto a steep embankment and the other opened onto a stretch of electrified track.

    I stretched out my right leg and placed it against his left calf. His body visibly shook as he refused to look up and face me. I rubbed my leg up and down his calf slowly, waiting for him to move his leg out of harms way and when he did so, I readjusted my position and continued as before.

    It was now crunch time for the student. He closed his book, took hold of his rucksack and stood up cautiously. He couldn't leave the compartment, so clearly he was off to sit near one of the doors. This prompted me to stand up and return him to his seat with an open-handed shove. Stunned, he threw up a hand in timid surrender and bit on his lower lip.

    I sat down and smiled at the crestfallen teenager. He dropped his head and said something to me in a trembling voice. I could hear the words, but none of them made any sense. The poor fellow was now terrified and ripe for exploitation. I stretched out my leg again and rubbed it against his calf. His mouth dropped open as he closed his legs and tried to shift to his body to the left. I leant forward, put my hands on his knees and spread them apart. The power of my grip sent a shock-wave of fear through his body. He winced as my fingers tightened around his kneecaps.

    I stared at his crotch and, without saying a word, made it quite clear that I wanted to see it at all times. He was quiet like a as I squeezed his kneecaps to underline my unspoken instruction. With his legs spread apart, the wimp sat perfectly still as I took possession of his book and rucksack. Terrified, The youth was shaping up just fine in my opinion. However, the train was only a few minutes away from the next station, so I didn't have much time left.

    I put the torn paperback in the rucksack and indicated the wimp to do likewise with the contents of his pockets. He awkwardly retrieved a key ring with two keys attached, a return railway ticket, a clean handkerchief and seven shillings in silver. His cheap, Russian made wristwatch was then added to the items before they were all placed inside the rucksack.

    No one got on or off the train at the station. I waited expectantly for my prey to make a dash for it, but he remained seated - he knew that I could grab him before he reached the door, and that he wouldn't be able to call out for help with a forearm across his throat and a hand over his mouth. The loss of his possessions was of no concern to him: he clearly valued his teeth more than the items inside my newly acquired rucksack.

    As the train left the station, I raised my right foot off the floor and placed it on the bench seat, between the wimp's open legs. He swallowed hard and tried to speak as the train clattered over a set of points. The fear in his eyes was truly wonderful to see, especially when I eased forward and rested the sole of my size ten boot on his crotch.

    My boot remained on the youngster's crotch for several long minutes. The train had stopped between stations and was waiting for a green light. This delay prompted me to remove my foot from the seat and instruct to lift up his left leg.

    Taking off his shoe and sock was easy. The wimp didn't resist in any way: the fool was clearly unaware of how dangerous it was to let a stranger toy with his toes. Not so white his socks and a big sweaty foot with powerful smell, sniffing it I winked at him. He nervously smiled back scared to move as my fingers traced along his moist toes and in between each one. he was sensitive and he soon discovered how vulnerable his pinkies were when the train finally pulled away from the signal.

    The poor fellow just kept biting on his lips as his toes wriggled and foot shuddered, a great reaction as I pulled on his toes and then I took hold of his ankle and began tickling the underside of his foot.

    He bounced around on the seat, kicking out violently and begging me to stop. He couldn't help laughing as he kept saying, 'Plea-z-z-z stop.' Needless to say, his requests were met with even more tickling, the youth needed to know who the boss !

    The train rattled over more and more points as it headed towards the Smoke. The noise of metal on metal helped cover the student's cries for a respite, and even gave me the opportunity to tease and torment his other foot which I left remained socked. Stunned and confused, he was far too concerned about the assault on his feet to resist my next move. He just kept saying, 'Thank you,' as the tickling torture stopped and my hand moved to his crotch.

    I seized his ball sac through the fabric of his trousers and underpants, then watched him cringe as I squeezed his balls with one hand, fondled his covered dick with the other then indicated he put his sock on and shoes. He knew not to argue.

    We both stood inside the telephone box, waiting for John and Sam to arrive in the van. Platforms one and two had been deserted when we got off the train and headed for the exit. The ticket barrier had been unmanned, so the wimp never got the chance to risk his life and raise the alarm.

    The hold I had over Nikolai Klementaski, for that was his name, was still in the balance as far as I was concerned. I put my left shoed foot over his right one pressing lightly, winking at him and licking my lips. I had shown him my flick-knife and tickled his arm - pits and ribs before we had left the train, but still I wasn't sure I had broken his spirit completely.

    The road outside the station was just as deserted as the windswept platforms. It was the perfect place to wait for the van. The telephone box shielded us from the rain, which was now bucketing down, and kept the wimp close.

    "Please said Nikolai, all a-quiver.˜You will let me go later yes"

    "I replied with a wink pressing on his foot a little more. Nikolai's blue eyes widened with fear but he had no choice but to do as told.

    The van, when it finally arrived, was a battered black Bedford with a noisy engine and HUTTON & BELL - Second-Hand Furnishings painted on the panelled sides in mustard yellow. It needed a good wash and a day or two in the garage. Sam who was driving, shoved his head through the open window and said Get in the back quick

    John opened the rear doors from the inside and beckoned us inside. The belly of the van was empty, apart from a rubber-covered mattress that took up most of the floor space.

    ˜Nice one, Vic said John, slamming the doors shut and locking them behind us. ˜Let's get his kit off and spread him out on the mattress.

    The Bedford reversed with a judder and trundled back along the road. It then turned right and headed south-east. John took hold of Nikolai by the arms and shook him violently. The terrified student then lost his jacket, shirt and tie and shoes in the set-to that followed.

    I grabbed Nikolai a few minutes later and covered his mouth with my hand: in order to prevent him from calling out for help - John's playful knockabout had spooked the youth and made him panic. He kicked out with his legs as John pulled down his trousers and underpants. Socks on, John used to my kinks let me take those off with my teeth!

    ˜He's a feisty little fucker,’ said John, grabbing hold of a handful of Nikolai's inner thigh and squeezing it real hard. "If he won't behave, I'll be forced to slice off his bollocks and shove ‘em down his throat."

    ˜Easy, John,I said. ˜The lads sensitive and not use to all this excitement.

    Okay,snapped John. Let's spread him out, strap him down and ball-gag him. Let's get our sensitive slave use to all the excitement of being restrained and trained by three insensitive men.

    Nikolai wriggled around on the mattress as John and I spread him out and secured his wrists and ankles to the floor fixings with leather straps. He was sweating profusely as the ball-gag was fitted round his head.

    There you go, John,I said with a smile. Goldilocks is all tied up and ready to play with the three bears.

    Yes, said John, twisting the Polish lad's left nipple.˜That ball-gag is gonna be a real bonus today, especially if we get stuck in traffic.

    I picked up Nikolai's clothes and put them in a large, canvas bag. The bag was then placed, along with the rucksack, on the passenger seat beside Sam.

    Two grubby-grey curtains covered the rear windows and reduced the light coming into the van significantly. These curtains, which matched the one drawn across the opening between the driver's cab and the belly of the van, shielded the outside world from what was going on inside the Bedford.

    Nikolai lay face up on the rubber-covered mattress, which Pete had salvaged from a recently demolished hospital, and screamed into his gag as John and I worked all over him. The poor fellow was incredibly sensitive, especially round the nipples,arm pits genitals and as I knew feet. I turned John on just watching me work on his sweaty socked feet suckin' socked toes, tickling soles madly before pulling them off and h and I teasin', tormentin' a very hot, sweaty, smelly bare - foot each drivin' Nikolai wild. His head bounced up and down constantly as we tweaked his nipples, squeezed his ball sac and almost punished him with intense, methodical tickling all over his body.

    Usual spot, Sam drove to Biggin Hill then I got out and smoked while he joined John in fun tickling the newest victim and one of the better ones, one of the most ticklish. Sam sucked his dick but he was kept on edge - play until three times he was forced to cum which made him even more sensitive. He toyed with by us all through the night until daybreak, none of us into anal sex though Sam using a feather to tease his arse crack and John and I seeing who could torment his ticklish body the most and Sam keeping the fellow excited playing with his dick and balls. Even socked Sam hated his own feet touched, not ticklish just hated it, so we'd make Nikolai touch them then hold him down so Sam would punish him enjoying himself tickling Nikolai's mega - sensitive soles and toes, this game - play gave us all a giggle, Nikolai couldn't stop laughing ! He even learned English swear words! ...

    " Please Sirs Fuckin' suck my toes "
    " Please Sirs lick my feet Cunts "
    " Please Sirs tickle my feet Bastards "

    Sun rise came and he got driven back to London Bridge to catch a train to wherever he was living at the time. We made sure he had enough money, something to eat for the journey and his rucksack and all its contents with him. Good Ole British hospitality !

  39. #39


    It started about a month ago when I came home early from a business trip. I'm an accountant for one of the Big Six firms and I'm working my way up the corporate ladder. I'm only twenty-six, but I've already got two good promotions. Not to be a vain but I'm pretty good-looking, and I haven't been all that shy about turning on the charm, especially to Deborah, the cutie who heads up my division. I still work out and run so I look good in a suit and even better out of it. I get good haircuts and generally look the part of the young executive. The chicks dig me, and the guys know I'm one of them--out on the softball field, at the courts playing hoops, or cruising for babes at happy hour. Yeah, I had it made.
    My old man gave me a down payment to buy a cool house, but I had to make the mortgage payments and take care of the place. It was tough. I never had any money left to go out, so I ended up getting a roommate.
    Mark is a graduate student and a few years younger than me. He seemed pretty quiet and we didn't have all that much in common. Hey, he paid his rent on time and didn't leave his things in my way. I basically ignored him...
    Until that day I came home early from the business trip. The meeting for Friday had gotten canceled, so I hopped on a plane Thursday night and took a cab from the airport. I was beat. I had been wearing my suit all day and my tie was choking me. My feet were killing me in new shoes, and I just wanted to have a beer and crash. I came in the back door and noticed the house was dark--Mark must have gone to bed early. Good. I didn't feel like making small talk with him. I opened my bedroom door and flicked on the light.
    Man, I just about freaked out. There was Mark, sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed, holding a pair of my dirty sweatsocks to his nose and jacking off! The guy was buck naked and had this huge hard-on sniffing my stinky white socks with my size 12 running shoes and a pair of boots surrounding him. Mark froze and looked at me with true terror.
    "What the fuck are you doing?!" I screamed as we both stared at each other, glued to our spots. Mark flushed furiously as he dropped the socks and tried to cover his dick.
    My mind was trying to digest the scene. I started remembering random instances that suddenly made sense--Mark acting weird when I put my bare feet on the coffee table, missing socks, snatched glances at bare feet. So, my roommate was a faggot with a foot fetish! This could be interesting. I'm strictly into chicks myself and nothing weird, but I could get off on abusing this little fag. Mark started to scramble to his feet.
    "Stay where you are, fag."
    Mark startled at my tone and he stayed on the floor as I strode over and stood above him.
    "So, you got some weird foot fetish, eh Marky?"
    He reddened again and swallowed hard.
    "Well, answer me, punk. You get off on sweaty feet?"
    "Heh-heh! What a fucking freak. Man, you are fuckin' weird. Hey, stay put. You're not going anywhere." It was kind of hot, towering over this naked guy in my dark suit, making him squirm. "You want the real thing, kid?"
    He look scared, but his dick jumped.
    "Yeah, looks like your dick does. You want me to stick my smelly feet in your face? I've been wearing these shoes all day, walking all over town, and my feet fuckin' hurt. I bet they would feel a lot better rubbing over your face."
    "I don't know..."
    "Well, I do, faggot." I pushed him down hard and went over to the bed. I sat down and stuck my foot in his lap. He was now facing the bed with his legs spread out in front of him. I used the toe of my shoe to prod the base of his dick. It jumped and started to drool pre-cum. I laughed in his face. "Okay, now take off that shoe."
    He grabbed my ankle and pulled the loafer off. Even I could smell my socked foot. I wiggled the black-clothed foot near his nose. "Come 'n get it."
    Mark's eyes were glazed over as he stared at my wiggling toes. His mouth was half-open and his cock was raging. Man, this was power! To have another guy at my feet, literally begging just to sniff my toes. I sprang a boner from the sheer perversity of it.
    His mouth started towards the foot which he held in his hands. Just as his nose was about to meet my toes, I pulled my foot back slightly.
    "You really want it, huh?"
    "Go on, then."
    But again I pulled it back. Heh-heh.
    "Please, what?" I asked, arching my foot.
    "Please, I really want your foot."
    I teased him for a while longer, then let him kiss my socked foot before pulling back again. I made him lay flat on his back. I then took off my other shoe and held both feet an inch from his face. I could tell they smelled real manly, like leather and sock and foot, not raunchy. He whimpered as I teased him. I finally started rubbing both feet in his face, and he moaned and reached for his cock.
    I kicked his hand away. "No jacking off, fag."
    He groaned, but continued to sniff and snuffle my feet. Man, it felt good after a long day. I let him take off my socks, which really got him going. I must admit, I have really good-looking feet; with strong toes, a good arch, and just enough veins to make 'em manly. The bottoms were pretty smooth and soft; shit, I never went barefoot.
    I used my bare foot to slap his face and told him to sit up. "I want my feet massaged, faggot."
    I lay back as he crawled onto the bed and put my feet in his lap. I took off my tie and loosened the top buttons of my shirt. Man, his hands felt great on my tired feet--strong, firm. H soon had my moist socks off. Every once in a while his fingernail would scratch at a spot and my foot would jerk. Fuck, I wasn't ticklish or anything, but I guess my feet are sensitive. I closed my eyes and sighed.
    Suddenly, I felt something wet and warm on my toes. I opened my eyes and saw Mark sticking the toes of my right foot into his mouth. I smirked at him and then went rigid. The fucker's warm tongue was going in between my toes and it was driving me wild. I tried to pull my leg away, but Mark had it held tight as his tongue snaked between my squirming toes. All of a sudden, he brought his fingers up to the same foot and started scratching at my arch. What the fuck?!
    I got weak as a kitten as he proceeded to tickle my foot. I struggled, but he held on tight. I started laughing and shrieking. I panicked when I saw him grab the tie. He had my arms tied up in back of me before I knew what happened. He sat on my legs, looking at me with this maniacal grin. Oh, shit.
    "Well, well, well. I guess your feet are a little ticklish."
    "I'm not ticklish. Let me up, you freak!" I was pissed and tried to sound tough, but I was scared. What was this punk going to do to me?
    "You have great feet, man. I've been thinking about them for weeks. I was freaked when you caught me sniffing at your socks, but now that everything's out in the open, we'll have a ball."
    I squirmed under him, but really couldn't budge.
    "Oh, no you don't. I'm not done with your feet yet. Let's see...how can we make sure you stay put and enjoy my TLC...ah, yes." He started rolling me along the bed, wrapping me up in the goosedown comforter that covered it.
    "Shut up."
    In about two seconds I was wrapped up like a mummy. Only my head and my poor bare feet were sticking out. I couldn't moved at all, but the fucker stripped the top sheet off the bed and tied it around my encased body. Trapped!
    "Now, that you're comfortable, I think I'll get back to those feet. Man, they are so soft, no wonder you're so ticklish!"
    He lay across my bound legs, and with one last wink and grin at me he stuck his face into my bare feet and went to town. He licked and slurped and nibbled at my toes and all along the soles of my feet. I had never felt anything like it before. I burst out laughing and shrieking. My toes scrunched and flexed, but it didn't stop his tongue and teeth and--OH, NO--fingers.
    I don't know how long he feasted on my feet, but it seemed like years. I was totally helpless within my cocoon, and the things he did to my feet turned me inside out. Sniffing, licking, sucking, massaging, caressing softly and hard, maniacal tickling. He wore me out and I must have fallen asleep when he softly massaged my feet, the last thing I remember.
    I awoke the next morning still in my suit, but untied. My clothes felt sticky and I felt weak and weird. Last night seemed like only a bad dream. I can't believe Mark did all that shit to me. I never even knew I was ticklish. Man, I had to get the fucker back. Last night he just caught me off-guard, but I'd fix his ass.
    I stripped off my wrinkled clothes and jumped into the shower. The hot water felt good on my skin. I stayed in there for a long time. I was really feeling better, plotting my revenge as I shaved. I walked back to the bedroom wearing only a towel around my waist.
    Suddenly, I was tackled from behind. What the fuck?! Mark was on top of me in a pair of jeans, work boots and a T-shirt. My towel fell off and I was wrestling the punk naked. He started tickling my ribs and I collapsed.
    "What's the matter, little boy? You ticklish on your ribs, too?" he smirked as he dug into my sides. I fought like mad but he knew what he was doing. He wrestled with me hard and skillfully until I was pinned on my back on the bed, one arm held to my sides with his jean-covered thigh and the other up over my head. I couldn't wiggle free. Before I could say anything, he whipped out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed the arm he held with his hand to my wrought-iron headboard. Then he relaxed the leg holding my other arm and like quicksilver wrenched it up to the headboard and cuffed the wrist. Oh, no!
    He sat on my pelvis, just grinning at me. His jeans felt strange against my bare skin. "Looks like you're in trouble again."
    "C'mon, let me up, you asshole." I was pissed, despite my vulnerable position.
    He ignored me and began using his fingers to lightly stroke my torso. I've got a nice hairy chest and he ran his fingers all over it and down my sides. I squirmed and tried to evade his fingers. It tickled, but it also felt kinda good. He started circling my tit, getting closer and closer. I started to sweat. He used his index finger to stroke the pink nipple and I moaned.
    "Now who's the faggot?" he asked as I squirmed under his ministrations. Worse, I felt my cock harden.
    He continued the tit massage until I was rock hard. "Now you're gonna get it, buddy boy. I'm gonna tickle the shit out of you. See these fingers?" He wriggled them in my face. "I'm going to stroke you all over. None of this light sissy stuff that got you so hard, either. I'm going to hit the spots that'll make you cry."
    With that, he began. He poked and stroked my ribs and sides and I twisted violently to avoid his finger. He was really digging in, finding the most ticklish spots and homing in. I was sputtering and screaming with laughter, but he was merciless. I couldn't buck him off no matter how hard I strained.
    Then he started in on my pits. I couldn't stand having my pits spread wide open like that with no way to pull my arms down. He just smirked at me as he wriggled the fingers deep into the vulnerable hair-covered cavities. Man, that destroyed me! I begged and cried, all to no avail.
    Suddenly he stopped and jumped off me. I opened my clenched eyes and saw him grab my ankles and bend my legs up to the head board where my wrists were attached. What the... Before I could kick or even comprehend what was going on, my ankles were lashed to the headboard and I was bent double with my ass in the air and my poor bare feet up and exposed.
    "I just can't stay away from your feet, man," he said as he contemplated them, stroking along the outline. I twitched, but I kept under control. For now.
    "You have great feet. Really masculine looking and big, but you're more sensitive than my five-year-old niece. I could tickle these feet of yours for hours, and you know what? I probably will."
    I groaned and clenched my toes.
    "Uh-uh, none of that," he said as he bent back my toes and tied them to the headboard.
    He tickled my feet and I went crazy, but I was too tied down to really even struggle. He oiled my soles with baby oil and used my own comb on them slowly up and down the soles. Then he would lightly stroke them with the very tips of his fingers, creating an insatiable urge to scratch my foot or scrunch up my toes, both desires being impossible for me to fulfill. Finally he brought in a bucket of hot soapy water and used a scrub brush to clean my oily feet. I screamed and passed out. I remember him sucking my toes and gently massaging them again but that's all.
    I slept for quite a while. I was dragged back to consciousness by an irritating feeling at me feet. I moved my foot but the sensation followed. Suddenly I shot awake and sat up. There was Mark at the foot of my bed, stroking my foot with a feather. I was too weak to really attack him, plus I was starting to feel a little cowed in his presence. I had to figure out what to do. Before I could say anything, he spoke.
    "I'm glad you're finally awake. We have a few things to discuss. Things are going to be different around here from now on. You should know that I videotaped our last little scene and I have a copy in a very safe place. Until I finish school, you're going to be my little boy, understand? I can't get enough of those feet of yours and I get a kick out of driving you nuts. If you don't cooperate...well, let's just say you'll be the biggest video star in years."
    "Shut up. I'm going to keep you in line, big boy. If you're good, I'll even let you shoot a load now and then but you are mine to play with. You'll wear your socks two days, submit to foot inspections and never wear shoes in the apartment."
    Well, Mark was as good as his word. Six months have passed and I'm totally in his control. He ties me in outrageous positions and teases my cock and balls and tickles me mercilessly. It's sheer hell, but my cock--which gets no other workout since Mark won't let me near girls AND ties my hands over my head at night to prevent me from jacking off--welcomes the stimulation. He lets me come about once every ten days, but I have to work for it which means submitting to his sadistic tickling tortures. He often chats to guys on the net and I then find myself at the mercy of two guys playing and toying with me, enjoying my feet and having cum my being mega - ticklish I dread this most but his mouth working on my dick and balls always gets me hard which is why he does it. He teases me up to three or four times to the point of climax, then lost with a tickling and when I do shoot my load he really goes to town on my feet in deliberately cruel ways so I am the victim of his systematic controlled tickling !

  40. #40

    Institutionalised Victim!

    Garrett woke up slowly. His head was in a fog. He remembered leaving the bar, and two handsome strangers coming up to him, but then his mind went blank.

    Garrett tried to sit up, but he realized he couldn't move his arms. Opening his eyes, he immediately noticed that the entire room: ceiling, floor, and walls, was padded. Not only that, but he was in a straightjacket. He fought to get free of the contraption, but to no avail.

    Panicked, he tried to access his situation. He could feel the hard canvas of the straightjacket, so he realized that his shirt had been removed. His shoes and socks were gone too, but he still had his pants on.

    Suddenly, the tiny door opened up and the two men from the previous night walked in. They were both wearing white lab coats.

    "What the hell is going on?" Jody yelled.

    The two men ignored his words. They came up to Garrett and grabbed him by the ankles. Lifting his legs, Garrett was on his back, and the men wrapped their muscular arms around Jody's calves. Then they started to rake their fingernails up and down the soles of Garrett's size 13 bare feet and sucking his toes fast and furiously winking at eachother at Garrett's immediate helpless reactions.

    Garrett had always been extremely ticklish. Despite his fear, he burst out laughing, squirming around and trying to kick free of their firm grips. The two men in full control held on and tickled Garrett's feet for at least twenty minutes breaking the tickling to lick the soles of his feet. The man holding the right foot to be licked by the man holding the left and vice - versa. Jody was hysterical within seconds.

    The two men looked at each other and grinned. Then they let Garrett go and without a word left the room and shut the door behind them.

    Garrett was even more confused than ever. What was he doing here? Why did those men tickle and abuse his feet like that? He was very nervous.

    About an hour later the two men returned. Again they didn't speak, but they grabbed hold of Garrett who had tried to struggle until one of the men tickled his right foot and he weakened.With one man on either side of him they led him out of the room. Garrett tried to ask again what was going on, but the men completely ignored him. They led him down a dimly lit hallway to an open door at the end. Inside, they made him sit down in a large, high-backed chair. It reminded him of a Dentist chair.

    Then the men pulled a wooden box in front of the chair. It was high, and slanted steeply upward. Lifting Garrett's legs, they set them on top of the padded box and then securely lashed his legs to the box from ankle to hip.

    Garrett pleaded with the men, asking them to explain what was going on, but they continued to ignore him. Once they were done, Garrett was straightjacketed and lashed from ankle to neck. He could barely move a muscle. Then one of the men took a canister and sprinkled the contents of it on the soles of Garrett's feet. It was a gray powder. The man covered his soles and toes with the stuff wearing gloves so again tickling his sensitive soles.Then the two men left the room.

    Garrettt tried to struggle, but in short time he realized that he was completely immobile. Then he felt a tingling on his feet. His soles started to itch. The itching increased. Garrett tried to rub his feet together, but the men had lashed them just far enough apart so they couldn't touch. The itching was becoming unbearable.

    After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and another man came into the room. He was tall and very handsome. His hair was black and his skin was darkly tanned. He too wore a white lab coat.

    "Hello," he said with a smile, "My name is Dr. Ryman and I am going to be conducting your examination today."

    "Examination?" Garrett asked, "Examination for what? What am I doing here?"

    "Oh come now, Mr. Tucker, you know full well why you are here."

    "Mr. Miller? That's not my name. My name is Miller, Garrett Miller."

    "Oh, we've got a new name this week,have we? Okay, Mr. Miller, let's get started shall we?"

    Garrett wanted to explain his situation to the man, but the itching of his feet was maddening.

    "Please," Garrett said, "could you scratch my feet."

    "Of course, Mr. Tucker....I mean Miller. Of course." The doctor pulled a small recorder out of his pocket, turned it on, and placed it on the table nearby.

    "The patient," he spoke to the recorder, "Is again requesting that I scratch his feet." The doctor put protective gloves on.

    Doctor Ryman pulled a rolling stool up to the soles of Jody's feet and sat down. He then started to slowly scratch up and down Garrett's bare soles.

    Garrett was laughing instantly, but the sensation was preferable to the irritating itching and although Garrett was hysterical with laughter, tears streaming down his face and his feet sweaty like the rest of him, he encouraged the doctor to continue.

    The doctor scratched all along Garrett's soles, and up to his toes. Garrett's feet wiggled wildly and his head bobbed up and down (the only two parts of his body that could move) as he laughed hysterically. The doctor continued the scratching.

    "Is this what you want er Mr. Miller," the doctor asked.

    "Yes, thank you," Garrett managed to murmur between bouts of laughter.

    Dr.Ryman started scratching deliberately more lightly. The itching was starting to subside, and this new touch was more tickling than scratching. Garrett started laughing even louder.

    "The patient," the doctor spoke into the recorder. He had to speak loudly to be heard over Garrett's hysterical laughter, "Seems to have an insatiable craving for tickling. Despite the fact that he is quite hysterical, and obviously distressed by my tickling, he begs for more."

    Garrett tried to correct the doctor. To explain about the powder, but he was laughing too hard to speak. The itching was gone now, and the tickling was driving him crazy.

    Garrett was too hysterical to beg for mercy. He was laughing too hard to do anything but pant and gasp for breath between bouts of maniacal laughter. This man was a professional tickler, and he was exploiting Garret's ticklish feet to the absolute limit.

    Finally, mercifully, the man stopped. As Garrett gulped in large swallows of air, the doctor picked up his recorder and spoke, "Subject, although extremely ticklish, seems to have a very high endurance. I have been tickling his feet for thirty minutes. While the subject is short of breath, he appears capable of withstanding much more. I will now test his response to stimuli other than fingers."

    Garrett looked down at the doctor sitting in front of his defenseless bare feet. From the table, he picked up a stiff feather and brought it toward Garrett's soles.

    "Please, no," was all that Garrett managed to say before the feather started to glide down the center of his right foot. His soles, still tingling from the earlier tickling, responded immediately. Garrett was again racked with uncontrollable laughter.

    The doctor seemed to take great pleasure in tickling Garret's feet. He brushed the feather all across his soles and toes, linger on any spot where he seemed extra sensitive. Garrett's ribs were sore from the laughing and tears were rolling down his cheeks as the doctor tickled and tickled his helpless bare feet.

    Garrett lost all sense of time. In fact, he was completely lost, and didn't even realize right away that the doctor had stopped his tickling. As he slowly recovered, the doctor just sat and watched him intently.

    Finally, the doctor picked up his recorder once more and said, "Mr. Miller has proven to be the most ticklish subject tested so far. After a brief rest period, I will endeavor to test the ticklishness of his upper body."

    The doctor then tucked the recorder into his pocket and stood.

    "The attendants will return shortly to prepare you for the next part of your examination. In the meantime, let me put on the television to keep you company.

    There was a TV on a bracket in the corner of the room near the ceiling. The doctor turned it on and left the room.

    Garrett was panting, not paying attention to the newscast that was being broadcast. Then, something caught his attention. It was a newscaster reporting live from outside some large institution.

    "It seems," the reporter was saying, "That several patients escaped sometime last evening. They managed to imprison the night crew. Apparently, there are reports of some patients actually leaving the grounds and kidnapping local residents. It was not until the day crew tried to report to work this morning that the takeover was discovered."

    Suddenly, Jody heard laughter erupt from down the hall.

    "While reports are still sketchy," the reporter continued, "It appears that all the people who have been abducted have been men in their mid to late twenties. At this point, we do not know where the victims are or how they are being treated. Police on the scene fear that, given the fact that this is a maximum-security facility for the criminally insane, that this siege could last for several days."

    The two attendants came into the room. One said, "Well, Mr. Miller, while we're waiting for the doctor to return, let's see just how ticklish you really are."

    Sitting either side of his feet they began concentrating on tickling heels to toes. Later washing his feet using a stiff brush to clean them of the powder before using their mouths to drive him crazy. His laughter only compelled them to tease him more and more and more and Dr. Ryan arriving back a couple of hours later meant only one thing and Garrett knew it ... still more tickling !

  41. #41

    It's a Buddy Thing!

    Ethan jumped into his new pickup truck and cursed as he noticed the start of another snow storm. "Damn," he thought. "These roads are going to be slicker than a motherfucker." Ethan had on his usual uniform of faded jeans, cowboy boots,dingy white socks and leather bomber jacket over a tight white T-shirt. He was built. Four years ago in high school he was a star athlete, and he kept in shape at the gym and on his job at the warehouse. His cocky swagger showed that he still saw himself on the baseball diamond or football field. His short, thick brown hair was covered by a baseball cap, and a perpetual smirk was on his structured face. His skin was smooth and would tan in the summer. His green eyes flickered with arrogance.

    He grabbed a six-pack at the 7-Eleven and started drinking on his way over. He laid on his horn when an old woman walking with a cane took too long to cross 7th Ave. "Move it, Grandma!"

    Hank was already parked on the couch with a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. "Take those fucking shitckickers off. My old lady just scrubbed the floor." Hank's old lady was a sad-looking girl named Lonnie who had been waiting for Hank to marry her since high school. Fat chance. Ethan stood on one foot and then the other to remove the scuffed, size 10 1/2 boots. His white socks looked dirty and a hole in the right one showed the pink flesh of his foot.

    "Jesus, your feet stink."

    "Shut the fuck up."

    The two buddies sat side by side on the couch, downing beer after beer and commenting hotly on the game and lewdly about the cheerleaders. Ethan also spend a lot of lung power abusing Hank about his shitty job, his ugly girlfriend, and his old car. Hank seemed to ignore him.

    At half-time, after many beers, Ethan stood and stretched. He lifted one leg and shoved his foot into the seated Hank's face. "How do these babies smell close-up?"

    Hank grabbed Ethan's ankle and stood. "Now you're going to get it, buddy boy," he said with a strange new look on his face. "I've got my own half-time show in mind." Hank dropped the ankle and tackled Ethan. The two fell onto the carpeted living room floor.

    Hank and Ethan were about the same size and build, and in fact Hank looked a lot like Ethan. He did have a more mature look because he didn't shave as often as Ethan and usually sported stubble. Both guys were strong and had been buddies for years.

    Unfortunately for Ethan, he had played basketball in high school while Hank was a wrestler. Both had played football and baseball, but the years on the mat gave Hank a decided advantage now. Ethan fought hard, but Hank was skilled, strong, and determined. He played with Ethan, putting him in one painful hold after another.

    "I'm sick of your attitude, Ethan."

    "Fuck you. Ow! Let me up, asshole."

    "Say, 'I give',"


    "Okay, you asked for it." Hank maneuvered Ethan into one of his favorite holds--the figure four leg-lock as seen on the WWF. The hold is extremely painful and put Ethan's foot within inches of Hank's face.

    "Here's that stinky foot again. Man, you've got holes everywhere. Kitchy kitchy koo," Hank said as he poked his fingers through a hole and tickled the spot of pink. The effect was electric.

    "AAAAAHH! Stop it," Ethan screamed, his body stiffening and struggling anew.

    "No way! You are not ticklish, are you?"

    "No, that's, uh...my sore foot."

    "Oh yeah, then how does this feel?" Hank sneered as he let all his fingers wriggle along the dirty white sock. Hank could see the outline of the arch and the wiggling toes where the socks pressed against Ethan's foot.


    "Oh yeah, baby, we're going to have some fun now. I know all about how to treat ticklish little feet. That's how I keep Lonnie in line. I'm going to work you over, man. You'll be a fucking pussycat when I'm through with you. I can't believe you're actually TICKLISH like a bitch, man. Wait 'til I get you tied up." During this speech, Hank kept up the tickling on Ethan's stinky socked foot as Ethan writhed, banged his feet on the floor, and laughed.

    "I ain't letting you--OH--AAHAAAAHAA T-T-Tie--NO, st-stop-HAHAHA me up."

    "Who said you have a choice, sweetheart?"

    Hank pulled off the sock and continued tickling the squirming foot as he contemplated how he would get Ethan tied down so he could really get him. Hank had a lot of secret bondage equipment that he used on Lonnie, but she was a lot smaller and weaker than Ethan. It would be hard to get him tied. IN the meantime, he was surprised at how turned-on he was by this whole scene. Ethan's big foot with strong masculine toes which wriggled frantically was moist, sweaty, smelly and somehow got to Hank. Tickling Lonnie's feet was never this hot because it wasn't much of a challenge to overpower her and get her to scream. Making touch Ethan beg, however, was a different matter and these feet needed workin' on.

    The problem resolved itself when there was a rap at the door, and a third person let himself into the apartment. Anybody home?"

    "Deke! Man, am I glad to see you. Seems badass Ethan here is ticklish as a little boy. What say you we both work him over."

    "N-N-NO! Help m-me HAAAHA Deke, B-B-Buddy. You OHHEEHEHAHA-g-gotta h-help me!"

    "Help you? You gotta be kidding, Brown. After the way you fucked me over at work last week? This is perfect. You're gonna suffer, dude."

    "Deke, go into my closet in the bedroom. I got all kinds of rope and shit. Let's get this fucker tied down."

    "Alright, man."

    Deke, a tall blond with a mean look in his face, did as Hank directed and came back into the living room carrying some white cotton rope and leather restraints. He tapped the leather cuffs on his palm and smirked. "Hank, you are one kinky motherfucker."

    "Shut up and hold his arms."

    Deke planted himself on Ethan's upper chest and pinned the flailing arms over Ethan's head. "Payback time, buddy-boy."

    Meanwhile, Hank was moving like an expert. He released the hold on Ethan's legs and quickly used one of the leather restraints to hobble him. One socked and one bare foot struggled to no avail. He used the rope to bind Ethan's knees and thighs. On a signal from Hank, the two guys flipped Ethan over onto his stomach and brought both of his arms down. While Deke sat on Ethan's head, Hank coolly tied his bend arms left wrist to right elbow and vice versa. More rope was added to his biceps and chest. They again flipped him so that he was on his back, trussed up and helpless. He glared at his captors.

    "You fuckers, let me up right now. I'll kick both your asses, you faggots. What kind of shit is this? Let me go!"

    "Noisy little thing, isn't it?" Deke said.

    Both Deke and Hank were kneeling next to Ethan and grinning at the sight he presented. Deke then sat on his chest and then planted his size 12 smelly socked feet on either side of Ethan's head, pinning it. "Man, we're going to have some fun," Deke said as he tweaked Ethan's nose. He lightly slapped Ethan's face. "How's it feel, big man, to be on the bottom?"

    "You asshole...OOOOHHHNOO! Stop it!" This outburst was caused not only by Deke's teasing, but also by Hank's fingers which were going over both the socked and the bare foot. Hank really did know what he was doing and alternated light teasing touches to the base of the bared toes with a scratching of the muscular arch of the socked foot.

    "Which is worse, Brownie, socked or bare? How 'bout if run my knuckles up and down this stinky sock. Or, let's see, yeah, how about my fingers in between your bare toes? How's that feel? Yeah, that's the spot, isn't it?"

    Ethan was going crazy from being so immobilized and form the expert tickling. He couldn't move at all and Deke was constantly taunting him. Plus Deke's feet really stunk. At least Deke wasn't tickling him too.

    "Hey, I think I'll get in on the act," Deke said.

    "Help yourself. Check out his ribs."


    Deke scooted down Ethan's body to his thighs and began lifting Ethan's T-shirt out of his jeans. "Let's see what's underneath here. Look at that flat stomach. Been keeping up with the sit-ups, eh? Man, that skin looks smooth. Wonder how these fingers will feel on your belly?" Deke asked as he wiggled his fingers just over Ethan's newly exposed midsection. Ethan sucked in his ridged stomach in an instinctive attempt to avoid the inevitable.

    "Here we go," Deke said as the wiggling fingers descended and made contact with the belly. He stroked all over the lower belly which caused Ethan to jerk wildly. He began circling the belly button with one finger and his other fingers danced below.


    "What's the matter Ethan, can't take it? Afraid I'm going to tickle your belly button? Man that would drive me crazy. Guess what? I am going to tickle that belly button." As he spoke, he let his fingers enter the navel the effect on Ethan was profound. He felt like he was being invaded or raped by that finger and that feeling, along with the relentless, ever-changing assault on his toes, was maddening. Ethan screamed with laughter.

    "Shut that guy up," Hank said.

    Deke complied by pulling off his own socks and gagging Ethan. He could breathe just fine, but his shrieks became muffled.

    "Chew on my sweat, go on taste it" Deke taunted Ethan.

    Deke now left the belly button and let his fingers roam over to Ethan's sides. He found that a light touch with all his fingers drove Ethan crazy and caused goosebumps to break out all over his body. Hank, meanwhile, removed Ethan's other sock and tied his big toes together. He was deep in concentration as he worked a tiny paintbrush between Ethan's toes.

    "Hey, Hank, watch this," Deke said. He lowered his face onto Ethan's partially exposed belly. He placed his lips over the belly button and blew a raspberry.


    "What's he trying to say?"

    "I don't know, do it again."



    "I think he's trying to tell us something."

    Ethan nodded furiously. Deke untied his stinky socks and removed the gag as Hank slowed his fingers down to soft stroking.

    " No more please guys ... no" and before he could finish Deke gagged him with the sweaty socks again.

    "Ooh, wants no more of our T.L.C. Let's see if we can change his mind about that" said Deke as he dug into Ethan's ribs. Hank grinned and renewed his fierce foot-tickling.

    "AAHmmmmph, Ethan's giggling muffled by the sweaty gag

    "Hey Deke, check this out, this always gets Lonnie crazy." Hank lifted both bound feet and started nibbling on the rosy heels. Ethan's laugh went up an octave. When his teeth reached Ethan's straining arch and then sucked on his toes and Deke's tongue darted into his belly button.

    Hank was silent but he had a steely look in his eyes. He was studying the gasping, red-faced Ethan. He looked him right in the eye and they both know something fundamental had happened. Hank rose and went into the kitchen, and came back carrying scissors. He began cutting Ethan's jeans off his body.

    "Hey! Stopprhm." Ethan's protest was muffled more as Deke stuck his hand on top of the socks in his mouth. Hank was efficient and soon the jeans were cut from Ethan's muscular legs. Then off with the jockey shorts.

    When Hank was finished, Ethan lay on the floor naked except for his white T-shirt which was hiked up over his chest. His big dick flopped on his thigh, half hard. He presented an obscene picture. Then both his captors got a foot each and sucked his toes and feverishly licked his soles working up a real sweat on his feet which then needed washing and scrubbing, the bristles of brushes under his toes and along his soles would sure tickle !

    "Deke, help me carry him into the bathroom. I want to work him over some more. The snow's falling and we don't have anything else to do." The two hulks carried Ethan into the bedroom and put him into truly fiendish bondage. They spent the rest of that day working Ethan over. Hank managed to get plenty of Polaroid's of Ethan.

    Now ol' Ethan isn't so tough. Hank and Deke make him come over several times a week to Hank's for "training sessions." Ethan has taken Lonnie's place as Hank's bitch. He's gotten pretty good at keeping Hank's apartment clean and keeping Hank satisfied and on instruction must always wear dingy white socks!

  42. #42

    Tickling Fun!

    Israeli Yuval Reiss was the sort of cold, detached twenty year-old who was known for his hate-filled articles against all things Palestinian. His tall, muscular frame went well with his piercing blue eyes and his full head of long brown hair and size 14 feet. Persons often found themselves speechless with an unnamed attraction generated by the youth's mere presence.

    Palestinian Sami Amin was also very attractive with wavy black hair, but the main features had gotten him chosen were his very lean, muscular body, his well shaped legs and thighs, size 12 feet and his protruding buttocks, the delight of anyone who appreciates such things about a young man. This twenty - three year-old was well known for violent physical clashes against Israeli police and the like.

    The perverted mercenaries Carter and Ross watched as one of the youths exited the rec room. "Get ready to start the car when I get Yuval." Adam Carter ordered. He got out of the car with surprising quickness for a man of his size. One hand held a rag, the other a small bottle of chloroform. As Yuval approached his car, Carter grabbed him from behind, roughly placing the dampened rag over the eighteen-year-old's nose and mouth. Yuval squirmed in Carter's massive arms, but the trained mercenary had almost sixty pounds on the young Israeli and Yuval soon went limp in his arms.

    Carter nodded to Tony Ross and he started the car and drove. Carter pushed Yuval into the back seat and then climbed in beside him. They repeated this process with eighteen-year-old Sami Amin. Removing both youths sneakers he'd contented himself feeling up their hot, sweaty socked feet from heels to toes anticipating the perverted fun ahead for he and Ross and their assistant Mehmet.

    The kidnappers joked and laughed about it enroute to the prepared basement room, both intent on feasting their select kinks on the unsuspecting youths. Carter had a hard-on! Ross was grinning from ear to ear. He knew he would only have one opportunity to grab each youth and it worked perfectly.

    On arrival their sub - boy Mehmet from Turkey who they'd found hustling in the back streets of Istanbul and adopted, carried the limp bodies of Sami and Yuval downstairs into the basement room secret room where he was often tormented by them and now would assist his Masters perhaps? Over the past few weeks, Carter and Ross had been preparing the room for the event. They had installed a re-reinforced door with several complicated locks. They'd had boarded up all the basement windows as well.

    Two huge, overstuffed recliners sat in the middle of the room, with a harness and wrist and ankle straps attached to it. Each boy was strapped into these armchairs where they eventually regained consciousness. Each finding themselves naked except for their socks and vulnerable on waking.

    Ross held the socked feet and smiled as on instructions Mehmet stroked them tickling the captured youth awake. The Palestinian youth didn't speak or offer resistance as he sensed better even as Mehmet was still running his fingers all over the youths sweaty socked feet making him bite on his lips to not react to the tickling. Then the twenty - three year-old Arab held his feet together cooperatively while Carter stepped in and bound them. With his hands already strapped, there was nothing left for the youth to do but submit and it had meant his feet were not being tickled.

    Ross's hands roamed all over the twenty- three year old's body. He liked the smoothness of the Palestinian boy's tanned skin. Sami lay on the armchair looking up at one of the men who'd kidnapped him. Ross took the time to stroke the young Palestinian's thighs and calves while he lay there . . . on his back with his penis sticking up and waving shamelessly. Yes, the entire ordeal was getting the eighteen-year-old hot. Still, the thought of having certain parts of his body tickled terrified him. Carter smiling encouraged Mehmet to stroke the socked soles again and then to peel off both socks and to suck on his toes then to let his other Master, Ross, toy more with the captive youth.

    "Please! Don't do this, sir, Pleeeease!" Sami cried out, wriggling and twisting uneasily. He watched Ross wet his lips and grin evilly. He begin to stroke the soles of both Sami's feet. The Palestinian's boy heard his own sharp intake of breath as he tried to restrain himself, gritting his teeth. Carter and Ross laughed aloud at his predicament. Mehmet winked at the teased youth smiling at him. Ross had a young Palestinian bound, helpless and really enjoyed having him vulnerable and at his disposal as he sniffed at the strong smelling ticklish feet . . . and he could either be merciful, or he could tickle his captive unconscious.
    He chose the latter.

    Ross tickled Sami's bare soles unmercifully having Mehmet hold the toes of each foot as he lick tickled the youths sweaty soles. After a few minutes of listening to the Arab youth's incomprehensible moans and pleading, he got Sami to laughing loudly and uncontrollably. "Ha-ha-ha-hhhheeee. Don't . . . pl-please, sir! St-stop it! Stop it! Ha-he-he-hey-no-no-nooo-oh, please! Ha-ha-ha-he-hey-he! Pleeeeeeeeeease!" Sami's feet were so vulnerable and his partner in crime Carter then joined in and began tracing swirls and patterns with his nails to extract the utmost benefit from each stroke. While all this was going on, Mehmet was actually on the clinic floor, sniffing the socks Ross had pulled off the eighteen-year-old Arab!

    Yuval Reiss, bound to the armchair beside Sami's, watched the Palestinian boy's tickle-torture session in terror. He was well aware that he himself would be dealt with next looking down at his bound, sweating socked feet which Mehmet was taunting leaning over them, sniffing on them and blowing on them making him wiggle his toes in reaction and try to draw his feet away from Mehmet's consistent attention to them. Mehmet licking his lips while winking and smiling at the other captive youth.

    To Sami it seemed that his feet were feeling all the tickling torture in the world as Ross and Carter cocentrating on a large foot each mercilessly attacked his soles and toes . . . and his cock began to grow even harder than it already had been. In slow motion--while Ross tickled and tickled and tickled his feet--Sami's penis continued to rise higher. Then suddenly there was Carter's hands on him, pumping his cock up and down as Ross continued to tickle but more intensely and the Palestinian youth came . . . shooting his load hard . . . almost passing out . . . but struggling to hold on as he clung to the amazing sensations encompassing him. Sami Amin screamed with mixed laughter and rapture. Ross persisted in tickling his feet as the youth spurted, driving Sami into a fit of sinuous spasms and convulsions and wriggling and squirming and writhing . . . as much as the eighteen-year-old's bonds would allow. Ross worked the young man's right foot then moved over to his left. Sami uttered growls of enforced pleasure and that really turned Ross on.

    He paused from tickling the Palestinian youth's feet in order to gently kiss each of the twenty- three year old's toes and down his feet and around to his insteps.

    "No, stop please Sir, no, no no, please stop, it's too, too much, stop!" Sami pleaded but was ignored seeing instead Mehmet who was taunting the other youth smelling his socked feet kept winking at Sami clearly enjoying seeing someone else given a taste of the torments he was accustomed to enduring.

    Ross then spread each of the youth's toes and licked and blew the tender spaces between them, Mehmet shivered as he hated Ross doing this to him. Ross licked and kissed Sami's feet, then caressed and massaged them. Laughing uproariously, the Palestinian youth threw his head back in sheer frustration and hysteria. He strained desperately at his constraints, gasping for breath between every jarring laugh. With Carter still pumping his cock, Sami came again--feeling hot cum shoot up and splatter down upon his body to be licked up by Mehmet as instructed to do and he only too happy to do as told.

    Then Ross and Carter turned to the Israeli boy strapped to the other armchair and immediately relieved him of his sweaty socks.

    Immediately taking hold of a foot each their fingers scraped up and down Yuval's exceedingly sensitive bare soles, then they used a hairbrush each to attack the undersides of the young Isreli's toes. Seeing who of them got the best reaction. Yuval desperately wriggled his toes and tried to refract his feet but his ankles were strapped too securely. Carter and Ross alternated between using a feather and a hairbrush and their own fingers. They inserted the brush's bristles between the Israeli youth's well-shaped bare toes . . . and used the brush to graze over each toe individually. Yuval's screams made their ears ring, but they were a joy to hear for both torturers.

    "Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heee!!!!! Hahahahahohohohoheheheheha ha ha ha!!!" Yuval shrieked. Mehmet was then told to lick all over the sweaty soles and to suck hard on all the youths toes and in betwween each which he loved doing copying torturous techniques he'd experienced from them when he was their toy and victim.

    "Wow." Carter said, staring down at their captive, as he used a scalpel to cut away the twenty year-old's T-shit.

    "This big-footed lad is even more ticklish than young Sami!"

    The Israeli youth's face, chest, armpits and crotch were sweaty and Mehmet's deliberate licking had excited his cock which was erect and throbbing! Carter and Ross put the feathers and brushes aside and attacked Yuval's size fourteen feet with their fingers again. They moved their fingers in circles around his soles, then in zigzag patterns having Mehmet suck his toes hard. The young Israeli screamed . . . and his cock throbbed and pulsated and grew harder with each stroke of the their cruel fingers and Mehmets oral action on his sewaty toes. Each scrape of the captor's fingers against the bottoms of his feet tickled more as they made their tickling more intense!

    "Hee-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahahaha-hehehehehehe!!!!" shrieked Yuval as Carter and Ross attacked his bound feet with more vigor than ever before. "Please!!!!-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!

    Heheheheheheheheheheheheheha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Please!!!!-hee-hee- hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!"

    "Whoa!" Carter said, clamping a hand to his ear to protect it from Yuval's high-decibel screaming laughter.

    "Mehmet use your tongue on these sweaty feet now boy like you suffer Ross and I doing to those lovely feet of yours ... We've not forgotten, your turn is coming and bet those ticklish socked size 11 feet are hot and your toes smell and taste good!"

    "Yes Sir, Master, you know it Sir" was all he could say as he began licking the captive youth's sensitive feet making him giggle more but he himself dreading when it would be his feet tied and socks off...

    Mehmet remembered how he'd hustled Carter and Ross who on holiday in Turkey had agreed a price he'd thought for usual fun but how at their holiday apartment he was drugged and wakened by them playing with his feet and bound unable to stop them. Wanted by Turkish Police he had not wanted prison where he guessed he'd be raped so had sought the opportunity of sanctuary and freedom with the two Westerners ... money talks so papers were forged and his passage out of Turkey set but he knew he was still a prisoner, their captive to tease, torment and toy with, still even this was preferable to rougher treatment he knew he'd face in a Turkish prison.

    Carter then retrieved the hairbrush once again and began to scrape it between Yuval's toes, then all over his feet--from his slightly rough heels, up his soles, down through his rather high arches and across the balls of his feet. Then he and Ross both began the whole torture process all over again. Yuval arched his back, screamed and ejaculated at the very moment Carter expertly used the bristles of the hairbrush to very slowly sketch an intensely hypersensitive path from the sole to the heel on the Israeli youth's right foot . . . while Ross, simultaneously plunged his hot, wet tongue into his captive's ear. Yuval shrieked more as Mehmet was then told to work on his feet as they returned again to teasing Sami the Arab youth who had been watching the Israeli youth suffering and smiling! Noticing this they'd decided to give him something to laugh about and each taking hold of a foot soon had him hysterical as they let him experience hairbrushes and feathers.

    Later poor Mehmet was stripped to his socks which were always moist and sweaty and tied down was the victim of the Arab and Israeli youth he'd enjoyed torturing. Neither of them inclined to not return the compliment in full measure worked on his size 11 feet first in his socks then barefoot.

    Ross and Carter amused by their sub - boy's retribution encouraged the youths telling them Mehmet's weakest points to assault including his big toes which for some reason when sucked really tickled him so both youths sucked on a big toe each at the same time which made Mehmet hysterical. His soles and toes then coated with chocolate sauce and the youths slowly feasting on his feet heels to toes which drove him crazy. He was forcibly masturbated by Sami later while Yuval kept on tickling his feet with the hairbrush and feathers and later Mehmet was rewarded with exacting his tickling revenge on both youths individually which he took great sadistic pleasure in doing!

    All three boys are now the toys of Carter and Ross and often for the mercenaries added pleasure and amusement eachother and with no chance of escape !
    Last edited by zanadu; January 31st, 2013 at 02:01 AM.

  43. #43

    Captive of two Tickle - Tops

    I was tied facing the cross. My legs were spread and tied tightly to the outside eyelet. Rope cuffs were put on my wrists and tied tightly to the top eyelet, causing me to stand on my toes. My freshly shaved body was stretched tight and completely vulnerable to any touch. Brian was exploring my body. I started laughing almost immediately.

    "Are you going to tell me where you are most ticklish?" Brian said as he continue to move his fingers all over my body.

    "Hahahahahahacan'thahahahaha . . . . I'mticklishalloverhahahahahaha . . ."

    "So tell me your five most ticklish spots. And you better be right or you'll be punished" My eyes went wide as I answered while laughing.

    "Hahahaha...huh uh ... hahahahaha . . ." I was in a teasing

    Brian walked around to the back of the cross, so he could look at me face to face. He was smiling as he spoke, "You are going to tell me your most ticklish areas, aren't you?"

    Even though he wasn't touching me at the time, I was still laughing. "Nope hahahahahhaha ..." He attacked both my sides at the same time, running his fingers up and down my ribs, and digging his fingers deep into my pits. I tried to squirm away from his attack, moving around on the cross as much as the ropes would allow. I couldn't get away from his assault.

    "HAHAHAHAhahahahahaokayhahahahahahaha . . . th-that's onehahahahhahahaha."

    "Where else?" Brian said as he continued his path up and down my ribs.

    "Hahahahahamyfeethahahahahaha" I could barely get the words out.

    Brian started to tickle the exposed soles of my size 10 feet. I couldn't move them very far, but I was trying for all its worth. My commotion on the cross started to interest some of the other leather club members. Dave thought I was wriggling around to much and went to get some rope. Brian stood up and started back on my ribs as he spoke into my ear "Where else?"


    "Your what?" Brian said as he dug his fingers into me harder.


    Brian started to run his hands up and down both the inside and outside areas of my thighs. I started squirming around again. Somebody took off his belt, wrapped it around my waist and the middle of the X in the cross and buckled it tight. That restricted my movements considerably. Dave came back with some rope and began to secure my legs to the cross. Brian tickled my thighs until Dave began to tie them.

    "Where's the fourth spot."


    Brian started to tickle my balls. With that, I started to quiet down.

    "They're not ticklish. You lied to me. Now you'll have to be punished"

    I was still laughing as Dave tickled me as he was tying my other leg to the post. Brian came back and snapped a cock and ball harness on me.

    "Now we'll have to start all over. The first spot was your ribs and pits." Brian attacked them and drove me to a frenzy. I could still move my upper body around a little, but my legs were totally secure. "Next were your feet." I couldn't move them at all. Brian spent a long time sadistically enjoying tickling both the tops and soles of my feet and in between my toes watched by others smiling at my vulnerability. Dave in the meantime had finished tying my legs and I felt a rope being tied to the cock and ball harness. "Now your thighs." My skin was stretched even more with the rope around them. I was laughing harder. I felt a tug on my balls as the rope was tied tightly to the cross.

    "Tell me the fourth spot NOW!"

    "HAHAHAHA . . . hahaha . . . below my balls hahahahaha"

    Brian flicked his fingers in the area between my cock and asshole. I started to fling my head around as he tortured the area. Dave came around in front of me and grabbed my head, holding it down between the cross. It effectively immobilized my upper body.

    "And the last area?"

    "hahahahaha my ha ha hands ha ha ha ha"

    He couldn't get to my hands. I'm taller than Brian is, and there was no way for him to tie my hands to keep them open and assessable to him. Dave had noticed how effective holding my head down had been, picked up another piece of rope and tied it to a eyelet on the back side of one cross piece, over the back of my neck, and to the eyelet on the other side. Now, the only thing I could move was my hands.

    Brian admired their handiwork. "Now Dave, let me show you the five areas that are most ticklish. First you have his ribs and pits." Brian tickled me to show that I was still very sensitive there. "Next are his feet." Brian moved back down and tortured my helpless feet. "His thighs" I was sweating heavily and drops were stinging my eyes. "Around his ass" By this time, most of the people not tied up had gathered around to watch. "And his hands. Go ahead and see if you can remember all the areas."

    Dave attacked my rib area with a vengeance. He had a different style, which caused the sensations to be more stimulating. I was laughing hard now. Dave took his time and worked slowly down my body, making sure he got a good reaction from me before moving on. Finally he settled on my feet and discovered that licking my sweaty soles and sucking on my toes tickled me so delighted in oral action driving me crazy.

    As Dave continued to work on my feet, Brian spoke up. "Hey Ken, let me show you the areas where he is most ticklish."

    I looked up. Ken was right in front of me, grinning like a Cheshire cat, his fingers moving up and down quickly.

    "K-K-Ken!", I laughingly yelled. "hahaha ha ha You are ha ha supposedtobe hahahahaha a bottom haha ha ha. What ha ha ha are you ha ha ha hahaha doing here ha ha hahahahaha."

    " You look so hot, I decided to play top for awhile. Now you're really in for it!"

    Soon, six hands were exploring my body. keeping me laughing long into the early hours of the morning !
    Last edited by Autolycus; February 6th, 2013 at 05:57 AM. Reason: layout corrected

  44. #44

    An Officer's Torment!

    At night, the disgraced thirty-three year old Officer Ricci, our latest prisoner, is strapped on his back to his cot with his legs spread wide. The bedclothes are tented above his body to discourage any impermissible rubbing or stimulation of his now constant semi-hard cock. He is blindfolded so that the light kept on continually in his cell doesn't disturb his sleep and he is fitted with earplugs so that he cannot know when or who comes to his bed at night.

    It is not that he is deprived of any sexual stimulation, quite the contrary. During the course of most night guards come into his cell and are allowed, even encouraged, to fiddle with him for as long as they wish. The night time visitors arrive at different hours on different days so that the Italian cop cannot predict their visitations and anticipate them. However, whoever does drop in is forbidden to allow him any sexual release or satisfaction under pain of severe punishment and demotion.

    These midnight callers are very imaginative and devilishly inventive in their techniques. Once in a while I like to review the videotapes and one such middle of the night session is worthy of note.

    It is one o'clock in the morning, according to the digital readout. Officer Ricci is in a deep sleep, I can tell by the sound of his snoring. The bedclothes are pulled up to his chin, but fully tented over the middle part of his body. I see the door to the room slowly open and in walk two of the male guards, with several devices in hand. They approach their charge's bed and lay the instruments of stimulation on the bedside table. They take positions on either side of the sleeping form.

    Slowly they pull back the covers off the young, handsome, tall, slim Italian cop so as to not awaken him just yet. He is seen strapped firmly to the bed with his arms fastened to the sides of the bed frame by the wrists. His muscular legs are splayed wide and secured by the ankles. The man still sleeps. With light touches, they roam the furry body from head to toe. The sleeping form stirs and wiggles under their light touch. They stroke him all over except for his genitalia, for quite some time. Low moans are heard coming from the naked hairy figure who we already know is very ticklish and especially on his size twelve feet.

    One guard reaches over and grabs a hair dryer. He turns it on to a low setting, and moves it slowly over the man's body in tight little circles: beginning at his feet and continuing up one hairy leg to the firm belly, then onto the broad hairy chest and across his collar bone, down the other side to the foot again. I can see the warm forced air ruffle the hairs on the naked cop's body and notice a slight stirring of the man's cock. Now half-awake, the naked man wiggles his furry body from side to side and tries to lift his crotch to reach the warm air, but that area is skipped over on every sweep of the hairdryer.

    After a good number of minutes of this warm air stimulation, the night time visitor shuts off the hairdryer and lays it aside. The two guards now take in hand soft bristle brushes. In short, light strokes they cover his muscular body from neck to toe, just barely touching his skin but again skipping over his crotch. They circle them around his muscled belly and you can see his abdomen tighten under the whisper light strokes. His chest hair is brushed ever so lightly and his nipples are just barely stroked at their pointy tips. By now the strapped down man's cock is stirring to life. As it swells and lengthens, the dick moves from the side and curves around toward the Italian cop's deep recessed belly button. Once it is semi-flaccid, the soft brushing stops.

    Now, one guard positions himself at the head of the bed and the other at the foot. In their hands is a soft feather. The now fully awake figure strapped to the cot is lightly stroked in maddening circles on his hair-encircled nipples and his low-hanging ball sac. In response to the pleasurable stimulation of these erogenous areas, the semi-flaccid cock lifts off the fuzzy belly towards the ceiling and goes down again. With each sweep across his now erect nipples and ball-churning scrotum, the man's prick rises and falls but at an ever increasing angle. Finally the dick is at full attention without ever being touched. His mega - sensitive feet are then seen to be tickled, the feather slipping cruelly between all his toes and then he seen to physically squirm as replacing the feather, a tongue assaults both his feet making his toes wriggle to escape a sensation he really hates.

    At this point feathers laid aside, each guard bends over and begin to circle the naked figure's aureoles up to the pointy tip with their talented fingers. Light pinches and gentle squeezes elicit more moans from the strapped-down man. The erect dick throbs to attention with each touch and stimulation on his sensitive nipples. The men as one bend over and lick, nip, bite and suck the erect tits, while Officer Ricci's erect cock sweeps the air like a pendulum under this intense nipple play. This goes on for some time.

    With pre-cum bubbling from the intensely hard cop cock, the next phase begins. One guard stays at the head of the bed to continue the manipulation of the hardened nipples while the other moves to minister to the Italian cop's erect cock. A smooth silk cloth is produced and slowly polishes the helmet head of the stiff dick from side to side and top to bottom. More pre-cum drools out as the cock head swells even more and the shaft pokes straight up in the air.

    The fur-shadowed naked man tries to rub up against the silky cloth by thrusting his hips, but the polishing and gentle rubbing never quite bring him to full climax. No hand touches his erect dick, just the sweeping cloth that moves back and forth, up and down slowly, very slowly. More pre-cum bubbles and drools down the hard erect shaft. Unexpectedly, as the strapped-down man is aching for more stimulation to push him over the edge to sexual relief, just a little bit more and just a little longer, everything stops. He lets out a groan of frustration. The substantial dick sweeps the air searching for the silky cloth; his erect nipples reach up for more squeezes and pinches, but find nothing. Instead he groans as he gets a double dose of the sensation he detests most of all, both his soles licked slowly, his toes spread and in between each slow licks and then soles stroked so his toes wriggle in the hot, hungry mouths sucking on them. Wet they are then tickled by dried up felt pens which makes him writhe and then a tongue assaults the head of his dick as another teases his feet. Then it stops until the next visitors arrive! The guards chuckle in the knowledge that their visit is successful. They pull the bedclothes over their charge, up to his chin again. Officer Ricci is left alone to suffer another night of sexual frustration with no release.

    Later that same night or maybe during a subsequent night he will have to endure torturous tickling predominantly upon his feet. He knows it but can do nothing but submit to the torture!
    Last edited by Autolycus; February 6th, 2013 at 07:46 AM. Reason: line spacing corrected

  45. #45

    Count Don Roberto challenged

    The Count had enjoyed one glass of wine too many so his servants had the perfect opportunity to convince him to agree to their wage increase demands. The handsome Count enjoyed instead entertaining ladies and attending parties whilst underpaying his staff. Luis his personal dresser knew his Master's main weakness, his size 11 very sensitive feet. Luis had to sometimes massage the 28 year old Count and had to be careful to not tickle his feet which he detested and had kicked out at Luis when accidently a touch had been too soft. He'd now told the others and they'd crept into their Master's bedchamber and as he'd slept soundly bound him to his own bed. Then roughly woken him slapping his face!

    Don Roberto shouted again. "Let me go at once!"

    "I think tickling his feet is a good idea," Carlos smiled.

    "Yes," Luis said. "We can tickle him until he agrees to our wage demands, until he agrees, If he doesn't, we have nothing to lose, so we can just go on tickling and tickling his sensitive feet."

    "No! Please!" Don Roberto begged.

    "Yes!" Carlos taunted. "Let's tickle his feet!"

    "Will you change your mind about increasing our wages then?" Luis deigned to ask him one more time.

    Don Roberto settled back onto his pillow. "Absolutely not, and you'll be in real trouble if you don't . . . "

    Luis ignored his response and took two short steps toward the foot of the bed, kneeling there by his left foot. He slowly pulled his slipper off with his left hand, set it to the floor and simply sat there for a moment contemplating his bare foot. Don Roberto's feet were as pampered as the rest of him, all soft, smooth skin, without a blemish or spot of dry skin anywhere, masculine and sweaty from the party.

    Don Roberto raised his head as much as possible -his arms were tautly stretched above his head - and said as menacingly as he could, "Luis, I'm warning you . . . "

    Luis taunted his Master removing his right slipper sniffing at his foot and sucking on his toes and licking along the sole.

    " I always wanted to do this to you and to tickle you, it has been worth waiting for!" Luis told the helpless Count who instantly reacted to the oral abuse trying desperately to kick out making Luis smile.

    "Tickle his feet!" Carlos coaxed, the slightest hint of cruelty in his voice. "Tickle his feet!"

    Luis brought both hands to his foot, resting the fingertips of his left hand beneath his Masters toes and the fingertips of his right hand against the toenails. His foot flinched slightly in anticipation. Luis very slowly, very gently, drew the pads of his fingertips down along the top and sole of his Master's foot at the same time. At first his foot jerked wildly back and forth while he screamed at Luis between obscenities to stop at once, but his fingertips stayed with his foot as it moved frantically back and forth and from side to side, trying in vain to avoid the gentle touch of Luis's fingertips. As his fingertips reached his heel and ankle and began to draw slowly back up toward his toes, he quieted suddenly, and his foot actually became quite still, except for an occasional flinching of the toes, as if his own foot succumbed despite its owner, deciding for itself that it was useless to try to escape the soft, maddening tickling.

    "Tee-hee-hee-hee! Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!" Don Roberto began to softly giggle.

    All the men watched intently; Don Roberto was so ticklish and he seemed to have lost all his strength and ability to struggle against the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles, that all he could do was lie still, tittering lightly, suffering the light touch of Luis's fingertips, fascinated them to no end. As they watched Luis's fingertips move slowly up and down the top and sole of his barely twitching foot, slowly up, and then slowly down, his fingernails never even grazing the skin, just the pads of his fingertips very slowly, very lightly caressing his Master's bare foot. Luis's hands moving in unison, up and down, up and down, covering as much of his bare foot as possible, as if they were palm fronds, something clicked and tingled inside all of them; they knew what torture this gentle tickling must be, and they were happy that Don Roberto was feeling all of this terrible tickling on just one foot.

    Luis looked over to the men as he continued to torturously stroke Don Roberto's foot. "Well," he told them, grinning fiendishly, "you can help me if you like."

    "No!" Don Roberto begged between giggles. "Hee-hee-hee- hee-hee! Enough! Tee-hee-hee-hee-hee! It tickles!"

    Carlos, looked over to the others and caught the glint in Ignacio's eyes. They nodded to each other and both sprang forth toward Don Roberto's left foot, Carlos kneeling on the floor facing the sole of his slipper, and Ignacio settling himself down on the edge of the bed between his ankles, resting herself across the top of his right calf. Carlos slowly pulled the Count's slipper off, and he and Ignacio immediately began to touch his bare foot.

    "Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah! Tee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Sto- ha-ha-ha-hap! Don't tickle my fee-hee-hee-hee-heet!"

    Carlos used the tip of his index finger very lightly, drawing slow, lazy strokes with that single fingertip up and down, up and down his soft, bare sole. He never changed his tempo, but simply stroked up to just beneath his middle toe and back down, gingerly along the very middle of the sole, to the center of his heel, and then back up again with that one gentle fingertip, up and down, up and down, tickling and tickling. Ignacio used all five fingertips in much the same way he watched Luis use his ten fingers, softly caressing the top of Don Roberto's bare foot, from the base of his toes, down to the ankle, back up and from side to side, as if he were lovingly stroking a favorite pet.

    "HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!" Don Roberto roared hysterically.

    Miguel leaned over to Andres and whispered something to her, and Andres responded with an enthusiastic nod. The two padded quickly and silently out of the bedroom.

    Franco didn't notice his two friends leave the room. He simply stood there in a state of subdued excitement as he watched Luis, Carlos and Ignacio apply a torture that was so subtle, and yet so intense. Franco edged closer to the foot of the bed to get a better view of Don Roberto's soft, twitching bare feet.

    While he continued to caress the top of Don Roberto's left foot with the fingertips of his right hand, Luis took his left hand away from his Master's bare sole to motion at Franco. "Come on," he invited.

    Franco did not hesitate. He knelt on the floor to face Don Roberto's bare left sole and sniffed at it, both feet now becoming sweaty and hot. Franco couldn't resist licking the toes quickly and as quickly brought all five fingertips of his right hand to the soft ball of the Count's foot, wiggling the fingertips against the skin very quickly, but very lightly.


    Franco brought his lightly wiggling fingertips down to the tender arch of his Masters foot and left them there for a bit, tickling and tickling, then brought them wiggling down to the heel, then back up to the ball of the foot, wiggling his fingertips gently beneath the sensitive toes, and then back down to the arch to linger there for long, torturous moments, scrambling all five fingertips softly, lightly and randomly against the smooth skin, tickling and tickling and tickling. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," he whispered and this verbal teasing, if it were at all possible, seemed to make Don Roberto laugh even harder. Tears streamed out of the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks as he shrieked hysterically, yet his feet hardly moved, his toes twitching only slightly now as his bare feet endured the soft, merciless tickling of the four men. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," Franco taunted again. "I love to tickle feet! Tickle, tickle, tickle!"

    Andres and Miguel returned and smiled gleefully as they heard Don Roberto's raucous laughter. They approached Luis with their hands behind their backs, and Miguel whispered something in Luis's ear.

    It was enough to make Luis stop what he was doing and laugh out loud. He held his hand up to the other men, who had not yet stopped tickling Don Roberto's feet. "Hold on a moment," he said, and after a moment more of slightly more intense tickling, they finally, albeit quite reluctantly, stopped.

    Don Roberto's laughter abated as he gasped to catch his breath. "No more," he said weakly, "no more."

    "We will stop, Don Roberto," Luis said, and he heard a couple of "Awww"s from a couple of the others. Inwardly, he had to admit to himself that he felt the same way - torturing this bastard beyond belief was quite gratifying, and Miguel and Andres's plan would add immensely to the torture - but he realized that he must keep the ultimate goal of all this in mind and try once again to persuade Don Roberto to see reason. "There is no sense in your enduring any more of this," he told his Master as his breath became steadier. "All you need to do is agree to our terms.

    It was obvious from the seething look in his eyes that Luis's brand of reason was the furthest thing from his mind. "I'll see you all behind bars, you bastards! I'll see you hang! You'll never get away with this! Release me now!"

    Luis was almost glad that he was being this stubborn, and he knew that her co-workers felt the same way, all were impatient to continue Don Roberto's torture, and that Andres and Miguel were anxious to begin their new, fiendish variation of his torment. "One last chance, Don Roberto. Will you agree?"

    "Never! You can kill me, for all I care!"

    "Oh, no! We would never do that! But perhaps we could drive you insane - with tickling!" Luis then nodded to all the others.

    "No!" Don Roberto cried. He was then launched into immediate hysterics as Carlos, Ignacio, Franco and Luis went back to enjoying themselves with his feet. Franco continued to drag her one lazy fingertip up and down his bare right sole, perhaps applying just a bit more pressure with the pad of her fingertip. Ignacio didn't change his technique; he loved the feel of the smooth skin against his fingertips, and continued to caress the top of his Masters foot gently and lovingly with the fingertips of his left hand. Luis now used his fingernails ever so lightly, dragging them gently, palm down, from the base of his toes along the top of his left foot to his ankle, and then reversing his hand, bringing it palm up toward his toes again, letting his knuckles and nails lightly graze the skin. Luis repeated the motion over and over, as if he were fanning the top of Don Roberto's bare foot. After scrambling his fingernails all over Don Roberto's soft, bare left sole for several blindingly torturous moments, Carlos took his right hand away from his Masters foot and, changing his technique completely - he had suddenly recalled a cartoon he had seen once in which cats were used to torture a man - he brought his mouth to the smooth arch, softly kissing him there over and over for a moment or two before beginning to lick up along the arch, bringing the tip of his tongue back to just where the heel started, and then back up along the arch, up, and then up, and then up again, licking the sensitive arch of his bare foot over and over intense tickling for his victim !


    Miguel and Andres now moved to opposite sides of the bed, climbing up onto the bed on either side of Don Roberto's hips and setting down what they had been hiding behind their backs. Don Roberto did not even notice them until they pulled open the front of his robe and unsnapped his pajama trousers, quickly yanking them half-way down his thighs and exposing his genitals. His cock shook flaccidly as he screamed with helpless laughter.


    Miguel flicked his limp cock with her index finger and told Andres, "He isn't enjoying being tickled much, is he?"

    Andres grinned devilishly. "We can help him with that, can't we?" With that, the two men impishly picked up what they had brought back to the bedroom with them - two long, stiff eagle feathers they had yanked from the Native American headdress in the study - and began to tickle his cock.

    Don Roberto suddenly arched up his hips and howled, "NO- HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO! NOT THA-HA-HA-HA-HAT! PLEA-HEE-HEE-HEE- HEE-HEESE! HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!"

    "He certainly is ticklish here, isn't he" Miguel smiled.

    "Tickle, tickle, tickle," Andres taunted. "Tickle, tickle."

    His cock began to swell and rise as Miguel and Andres flicked the tips of their feathers along its sides.

    "Koochie, koochie, koo," Miguel teased. "Tickle, tickle."

    Don Roberto's cock was swollen hard now, bouncing from side to side as he shook with laughter. Andres and Miguel kept tickling and tickling, quickly brushing the feathers' tips up and down the veined shaft.

    "Tickle, tickle, tickle," Miguel continued to taunt him. "Tickle his feet, Tickle his feet!, Franco suck all his toes ! " Franco needing no encouragement sucked on all the wriggling toes and licked between each toe driving his Master crazy!

    "Yes!" Andres joined in as he tickled Don Roberto's helpless cock. "Tickle his feet! Tickle, tickle, Don Roberto, tickle, tickle," he grinned.


    Of course, as Miguel and Andres kept tickling and tickling the shaft of his cock, the other four young men never wavered. Carlos ran the tip of her index finger up and down Don Roberto's right sole faster and faster. Ignacio continued with his annoying, loving caresses along the top of his right foot. Luis concentrated her lightly flicking fingernails on the top of his left foot just where the toes started, and Franco continued to lick his smooth, left arch as though it were made of honey and to suck on the sweating toes!

    Andres and Miguel now brought the tips of their feathers to the purple, swollen head of his cock, both flicking the feathers' tips very quickly, mercilessly brushing the very tip of the head over and over. Their feathers' tips collided back and forth, but both men ignored every other part of his cock and concentrated on that very sensitive tip, brushing back and forth, over and over, tickling and tickling.


    "Did you hear him say anything?" Miguel innocently asked Andres as he kept tickling Don Roberto with the feather.

    "Not a thing," Andres responded. "Tickle."

    The six men tickled and tickled Don Roberto. They tickled his cock. They tickled his feet. They tickled and tickled.

    Don Roberto was now reaching the point where his laughter was now longer audible. He bucked his hips, twitched his toes, and sobbed and gasped noiselessly.

    Luis brought his hand away and motioned to the men. "Enough. We don't want to kill him."

    Miguel and Andres brought their feathers away from the tip of Don Roberto's cock immediately; they could see that he was just on the edge of orgasm, and what they wanted was to torture him, not give him the pleasure of release.

    It took the others several seconds more to stop tickling his bare feet; it almost seemed as if Carlos, Ignacio and Franco had caught a "tickling fever," as if all they ever lived for was to tickle Don Roberto's helpless bare feet. They withdrew reluctantly.

    Don Roberto gasped as the swelling in his cock went down and he tried to catch his breath.

    Luis rose from the floor and asked again

    " So you agree to our demands!"

    Although Don Roberto's breathing became more regular, he could only nod silently in consent, a beaten man.

    " Good and later we will have more fun with you and these ( Touching the Counts feet ! ) The men laughed as the Count looked horrified that his ticklish feet were going to be abused for his servants pleasures at their will and he powerless to stop it from happening !
    Last edited by zanadu; January 31st, 2013 at 02:19 AM.

  46. #46

    An Ad!


    What's in it for you If you're a Tickler ? You wait in the darkened room on one side of the door while your partner in crime is waiting at the other. You're both naked. You're waiting for someone. He will soon be naked, too. VERY soon. The door opens, and before your victim can close the door behind him you are both on him, your hands running amok along his ribs and sides. You make sure that with every movement of you hands you pull his shirt further and further out from his pants, until you are able to get your hands up under his shirt. Then, CONTACT!

    You are tickling his bare Latino flesh, and his uncontrolled laughter raises an octave. You have him, and you know it! As he begins to sink to the ground under the double assault, you both continue the attack on his bare ribs, and now his pits are vulnerable, and you can wiggle your fingers about in the most hairy skin. He's doomed. He sinks to the floor completely, and you hold his shirt so, as he falls, he literally slips himself out of it. He's topless, and he's all yours and your partners. Now you really go to work on him! He tries to guard his pits and ribs with his arms, but, now that he's shirtless, who cares? You still have his back, collarbone, and neck to attack. And when he tries to defend those spots, it's right to his belly and belly button.

    He's in hysterics, and you KNOW you have him. In desperation he rolls on his stomach, which is exactly what you want him to do. Your partner jumps on his left ankle, pulling it up against his bare chest, and you do the same with his right. You both flick off his big size 12 shoes, and now he really begins to beg, "Not on the feet! Oh God, PLEASE! Not on the FEET!" but it's too late, as you and your partner begin to scratch all over the soles of his trapped socked feet. He is now truly hysterical. You keep up the attack for the next half hour. Then you see your fellow tickler slowly begin to roll his sock off of his foot. Down the ankle. Over the heel He stops right at the instep.

    You do the same.

    And then you hear it, "No! Heehee! Oh, please, NOHOO! Not on the BARE feet! For the love of God PLEASE don't tickle my BARE FEET!". Just what you wanted to hear. Both his socks are off in a second, and you both go to work on those soft, smooth, bare soles. The laughter is louder and harder than you've ever heard before. This guy is a ticklers dream! But it gets better. Your partner reminds you, "Tickle his toes. He can't STAND that!" Like this guy could stand ANY tickling! But he's right. As you stroke the pads of those bare toes, work your fingers between them and stroke the webbing between, he goes insane with laughter.

    If you didn't know better, you'd swear that you were going to tickle him to death! After a half hour of toe torture, your partner signals you and you turn him over on his back. Your partner gives you the victims left foot, and you pin both legs down so you can continue to stroke both soles at once. As you work your magic on his helpless feet, you hear his belt being undone. Then the zipper being opened. In a second his pants and underpants are down by you, around his ankles. You stop tickling so you can both slip the pants off. He's now naked. And helpless.

    And he's yours to do with as you please. Your partner orders him "Get up and get into the bedroom, or you'll get the Toe Torture for another HOUR! MOVE!” And he does move, running toward the bedroom as both of you pursue him, tickling his bare ass and back the entire way. Then you see it; the bed. There are restraints on the sides and at the footboard, but, to your surprise, the ones on the base are on top of the footboard. Your victim sees the bed, too. He becomes petrified with terror.

    He knows that once he's on that bed, it's over for him. He tries to run, but your partner is on him in a heartbeat, tickling his belly and lower sides. He stops and doubles over from the tickle assault. You grab him and pin him down on the bed, straddling him so you have clear access to his chest, belly, ribs, nipples and pits, all of which are deliciously ticklish. You tickle him helpless as your partner attaches the restraints to both writs. His arms are now outstretched and secure.

    You get off him, and you and your partner leisurely stroll down to his feet, and each secure an ankle to each of the restraints on the footboard You secure his toes with the thin leather strips so that his soles are flexed back, and toes splayed apart. He's now trust up, arms outstretched, legs spread about 2 feet apart, toes splayed and vulnerable. Naked. Helpless. CAPTURED! He's your Tickle Toy, and you will play with him. For a very, very long time. And he WILL suffer. As you survey your naked prey, you now realize why the foot restraints are where they are. In this position, with his legs lifted and separated, you have full access to his asshole and balls.

    He's your property, and he knows it. You see the tray of feathers, brushes, and pipe cleaners next to the bed. You see the bottles of baby oil and lotion. Your imagination runs wild. But you know you won't have to imagine for long. And from the begging and pleading for mercy he's doing, so does he. You survey those exposed balls again, and your partner notices. "That's his second most ticklish spot, right after his feet and toes. "You work on those balls while I tickle his toes with this soft, stiff brush." he says as he holds up a wide boars hair artists brush.

    You both laugh. Your partner applies baby oil to your victims feet. You victim laughs wildly. Then your partner announces, "Tickle time!" You laugh with delight. Your victim screams. "A 'lee". He's naked. Bound to a bed. His arms restrained comfortably but securely over his head. His ankles secured on the padded footboard, raised and spread so his naked feet are immobile and helpless, and his asshole and balls are fully exposed to whatever your tickler wishes to do to them. He sees the tray with the feathers, brushes, pipe cleaners, and other 'tickle toys', and his imagination starts to race thinking what each 'toy' will do to his naked, helpless flesh.

    He starts to perspire. He's in deep shit, and he knows it. Then his mind returns to the fact that he is not alone in the bed. Next to him is another naked, bound, good-looking guy, restrained just as he is and he's begging for mercy already. What does he know that you don't? Do you REALLY want to know? Then your Tickler appears next to you. He's hot, naked, and has an evil glint in his mischievous green eyes. He bends over next to you and, almost cooing, begins to whisper, "See the guy next to you? In a few seconds I'm going to start to Tickle Torture him, and it's not going to be pretty.

    I'm going to start by tickling his nipples. Softly. Gently. Until he's giggling uncontrollably and they get rock hard. His cock is already getting hard just listening to me now! After I get those tits nice and hard, I'll jump into his sensitive armpits. They're very ticklish you know. Oh, I forgot! You can relate; you're armpits are even more sensitive, aren't they? I'll tickle back and forth, from tits to pits and back to the tits again, until I get 3 hard-ons; two tits and one dick. Then I'll move down to the ribs. I'll count each rib as he screams in ticklish agony. I'll gently poke and prod the spaces between the ribs, and knead the lower sides until he's begging for mercy.

    Then I'll use the pointy stiff feather to tickle his belly button. He hates that. After about an hour of torso tickling, I'll start to squeeze those thighs. This will have him terrified! Not so much because his thighs are ticklish, which they are, but because he knows what my next target will be, and he dreads that. You see, when I'm finished with his thighs, I'm going for the naked flesh right behind his swollen balls. That's his 2nd most ticklish spot, and he'll howl with laughter, and make sounds that will only barely resemble a human voice begging for mercy, begging for release.

    He won't get it.

    Not yet.

    After an hour of ball tickling, it's down to some REAL tickling; his bare, helpless feet! And, oh, God, will I tickle his feet! I'll tickle his soles. I'll tickle his toes. I'll tickle his arches, and his heels, and then back to those horribly ticklish toes. I'll use fingers, then feathers. Then the hairbrush on his soles and heels, the paintbrush on his arches, and that deadly artists brush between his ultra ticklish toes. He'll wish he were dead at that point, but we will have just started. I'll go back to his balls and tickle them with a feather until he's ready to explode. Then I'll make him beg. Not just for the tickling to stop. Not just for sexual release.

    I won't stop tickling his balls until he begs me to milk him dry, then immediately tickle his toes, which right after a cum are 10 times more ticklish than they were before. And he'll beg me not to stop until he's hard again. And I promise you, he WILL beg for that. He'll have no choice. I see your hard already just from my description. Good. I want hard. I want you ready to explode with cum. I want you to watch everything I do to him very closely, because, you see, when I'm finished with him, YOU are going to get the EXACT SAME THING!” Your Tickler laughs.

    The guy next to you begins to laugh uncontrollably, begging even harder for mercy. You know the Tickle Torture has begun. You scream. A switcher. You view with delight the bound, helpless nude figure that is restrained in the bed before you. You are kneeling down by his smooth, soft, bare feet, firmly bound to the footboard, raised for easy access to his asshole and balls. His feet, bound at the ankles. The toes are tied back by five thin leather straps on each ankle restraint, so the soles are flexed to the max. All ten toes are spread apart, fully exposed to whatever devilish torture you can conjure up to do to them. There is nothing he can do.

    Nothing. And he knows it.

    He begs "Please! Please don't tickle my feet. I'll pay you money. I'll suck your cock every day for a year! Two years! My whole life! "PLEASE! For the love of God, PLEASE don't tickle my feet! DON'T TICKLE MY BARE FEET!"You smile. You want that to go on all night. You intend to make it go on all night. You view your arsenal of weapons. Feathers. Brushes. Pipe cleaners. Leather strips. Massage oil. Scented body lotion. A whole tray of toys to use on those beautiful nude feet right in front of you. He thinks he's begging now? Wait until you start! Wait until he realizes that you won't stop. Not for a very, very long time. Unfortunately, you know everything is not exactly what it appears to be.

    You realize that the reason why you are kneeling before those feet is because your ankles are secured to the floor. Your naked, and your bare feet are immobile, soles up, totally exposed and helpless. You can't reach down to protect them, as your elbows are restrained to the footboard of the bed. You can reach your victims feet with no problem. You can reach your 'toys'. But you can't bring your hands down any farther than your waist, where there is another rope going around your waist and locked onto the footboard. You are not going anywhere, either.

    Then you hear the voice, "Start tickling those feet NOW!" and you feel it. You feel a feather lightly stroking your swollen, naked balls. It circles your balls over, and over, and over. It strokes back and forth between your testicles. It travels down to the exposed flesh between your balls and asshole. It travels along the rim of your asshole, and then dips into it. Violating you. Tickle torturing you like you've never been tickle tortured before. "Tickle those feet, or you'll be on the bed, too! "TICKLE! NOW!" the voice demands, and despite your own hysterical laughter, you grab a feather in your right hand and a hairbrush in your left, and you go to work on those bare feet in front of you. Your victim bellows with hysterical laughter, and you see his dick ooze pre-cum.

    You howl with laughter as the feather continues to tickle the base of your cock, while fingers begin to dance about on your right naked sole. "Don't tickle my toes!" you think. "Please! Not my BARE TOES!" You don't say it out loud. You're too busy laughing. You're too terrified that, if you say it out loud, you will only give your tickler ideas. You're too busy being overwhelmed with the desire to cum. The need to cum. You HAVE to cum. And you realize that the guy you're tickling is in the same desperate state. But neither of you can do a damned thing about it. All either of you can do is laugh like maniacs and scream!
    Last edited by zanadu; January 31st, 2013 at 02:33 AM.

  47. #47

    A friend of Christopher

    My name is Peter Borg. Christopher is one of my closest and kinkiest friends in the world. We've known each other for a lot of years but recently we got to know each other a little better. We're both twenty six years old. I have light brown hair, brown eyes, and a pretty muscular body from working out pretty regularly at the gym. I'm five feet ten inches tall. Christopher is slightly shorter than me. He has dark brown hair and dark brown sad looking eyes. His body is pretty lean from all the hours he spends on the exercise bike he owns. When Christopher called me at my office during the day and invited me over (after work) for some T.T. I had no idea what he was talking about. But because I was extremely curious I decided to accept the invitation. I arrived at Christopher's apartment wearing a navy blue business suit, white shirt, a yellow silk paisley tie, and black wing tip shoes. Christopher greeted me at the door. He was wearing a pair of black shorts, a white tee shirt, and sneakers with no socks. He ushered me into the apartment and we sat down on the living room couch. Christopher handed me a cold beer and opened one for himself also. We both took a long swallow of our beers and then I put my beer down on the coffee table, removed my suit jacket, loosened my tie, and leaned back on the couch. I crossed one leg on my knee and looked at Christopher.

    "Okay Friend." I began. "You invited me over here for some T.T. and wouldn't tell me on the phone what T.T. is. Now tell me, what is T.T.?"

    Christopher smiled and put his beer on the coffee table next to mine. He placed a hand on my ankle and moved his hand under my pants leg, toying with my sock. He looked into my eyes and said "tickle torture." My eyes lit up and I laughed.

    "Tickle torture?" I asked him. "You're going to tickle torture me?"

    "Or maybe you'll tickle torture me." Christopher replied.

    My curiosity was more than piqued.

    "Okay, I'm game, but how do we decide who gets tickle tortured?" I asked Christopher anxiously.

    Christopher moved his hand over my wing tip and toyed with the laces, tugging on them. He thought for a moment and then said "We'll make it a game. The loser of the game gets tied up and tickled." Now it was my turn to think it over. Tied up??? I had never been tied up in my whole life and didn't plan to start now. But still, there was the possibility I would win the game and get to tie up Christopher. Now that sounded like fun. I finally agreed and asked what kind of game we would play to decide who would get tickle tortured. At that, Christopher took his hand off my wing tip, reached under the couch, and produced a deck of playing cards. He shuffled them and put them on the coffee table face down.

    "Okay." Christopher said as he was about to explain. "We each take one card out of the deck. The person with the lower value card gets tickle tortured."

    "That's the game?" I asked in shock.

    "Yup. Nice, easy, and quick huh?" Christopher teased. "I can't wait to get started tickle torturing you, Friend."

    I put my foot down on the floor, and feeling pretty confident reached into the deck of cards and pulled out a card. Christopher did the same thing. We looked at our cards and then looked at each other expectantly.

    "Let's do it together." Christopher instructed.

    I nodded in agreement and we placed our cards on the coffee table face up. Christopher's card was an ace of hearts. My card was a king of diamonds.

    "Wow." I said dejectedly. "For a second there I thought I would have won with that king."

    "Looks like you lose." Christopher said, grabbed my necktie, and pulled me close to himself. "Lets get started. I have everything ready in the bedroom."

    I gulped as Christopher lifted my feet into his lap, untied my wing tips, and slowly took them off my feet. My heart pounded as Christopher squeezed my socked feet a few times. At that moment I sadly realized what I had gotten myself into but there was no turning back now. We stood up, facing each other. Christopher undid my necktie and unbuttoned my shirt. In seconds I was barechested. I breathed heavily as Christopher squeezed one of my nipples.

    "Been spending a lot of time at the gym eh?" Christopher asked me, looking at my big muscular chest.

    "Yeah, I guess." I replied.

    "Looks good." Christopher said and squeezed one of my big biceps. "Now for your pants."

    I watched as Christopher undid my belt and unlatched my pants. They fell down around my ankles. As I stepped out of my pants Christopher picked up my necktie.

    "You have to be blindfolded." Christopher told me. "I didn't mention it earlier but it's part of the rules."

    "I'll bet if I had won you wouldn't have told me that." I said with a grin.

    I stood still as Christopher stepped behind me and tied my tie over my eyes. That done, he held me by one arm and led me slowly to the bedroom. Christopher noticed that my dick was hard as a rock in my Botany 500 white briefs.

    "Looks like you're enjoying this." Christopher said.

    We got to the bedroom and Christopher stretched me out on the bed on my back in a spread eagle position. I felt the first rope being wound around my wrist and then tied to the head board. My heart pounded like crazy in my chest.

    "I want a chance to get even later on." I said.

    As Christopher tied my other wrist he laughed at me and said "With your luck you'll probably lose the game again and wind up getting doubly tickle tortured tonight."

    "Maybe not..." I replied as I felt a rope being wound tightly around one of my socked feet.

    "Do you want to take the chance?" Christopher asked as he ran a finger over the bottom of my now bound foot.

    My leg jerked back and I chuckled. "I'll decide after you've had your fun." I replied.

    Christopher grabbed my other foot and tied it to the bedpost on that side of the bed. I was now trapped, wearing only my white briefs and black socks. Christopher began running a finger over my nipples, my hips, and stomach. I chuckled softly and laughed as Christopher increased the speed of his finger.

    "Having fun?" Christopher asked me.

    "Go ahead." I laughed. "My turn comes later."

    "Maybe." Christopher said as he began running his fingers over my crotch and thighs.

    I struggled furiously against the ropes as I laughed harder and harder.

    "Glad you accepted my invitation, Peter?" Christopher asked me mockingly.

    I was unable to reply because I was laughing hysterically as Christopher tickled the bottom of one of my feet.

    "This is nothing yet." Christopher laughed. "Wait'll I get the feather duster."

    "Y-you wouldn't." I said hysterically.

    "Oh yes I would." Christopher answered. "Then I'm going to take your socks off your feet and run a dry toothbrush over your bare feet."

    I sputtered and saliva dripped from my lips as Christopher went to work on my other foot.

    `We've only begun Peter." Christopher said. "Wait'll I flip you over onto your stomach. We're going to find out how ticklish your ass cheeks are."

    I could only laugh and listen as Christopher told me his fiendish plans.

    Fifteen minutes later, Christopher stopped tickling me. He told me I could have a five-minute break to catch my breath. He took the blindfold off me and sat down on the bed next to me. I was drenched in sweat as I smiled up at my friend.

    "I hope you're enjoying torturing me, because pretty soon you'll be the one tied to this damn bed." I said and tugged on the ropes.

    "You keep saying that but remember the rules my friend..." Christopher replied and squeezed one of my nipples hard. "If you draw a losing card you'll wind up back where you started."

    I licked my lips and asked for a drink. Christopher went to the living room and came back with one of the beers. He put it to my mouth and I drank.

    "Thank you." I said.

    I watched Christopher put the beer down on a night table. Then, Christopher reached under the bed and produced a large feather duster.

    "Oh shit." I murmured.

    Christopher checked his watch and told me that my five minutes were up. He blindfolded me again and began by tickling my chest with the feather duster. I let out a few sneezes in between hysterical bouts of laughter. A few minutes later Christopher ripped my briefs off me. My hard on pointed at the ceiling.

    "What a hard on!!" Christopher yelled.

    Before I could reply or even object to the fact that he had ripped my briefs off me Christopher was running the feather duster over my dick and balls and I was laughing and sweating profusely.

    "Please stop." I begged, laughing at the same time.

    "No way." Christopher said. "The game must continue."

    Christopher grew bored of the feather duster and threw it on the floor. He then sat down on my chest, straddling me.

    "What now?" I asked.

    "Armpits." Christopher replied.

    "Oh no!" I yelled.

    Without the slightest hesitation Christopher placed each of his hands under one of my hairy armpits and tickled them furiously. I squealed with uncontrollable laughter.

    "I-I can't take it!" I screamed. "Please stop!!"

    But Christopher ignored me and kept on tickling me. I felt Christopher's hard-on against my chest. I knew then where this was leading and why Christopher had really wanted me there that night. My thoughts were cut off however as another burst of hysterical laughter escaped me.

    "Please stop tickling my pits!!" I begged.

    "You should try to enjoy this Peter, because the time is coming close when I'm going to take your socks off you and tickle your bare feet with a toothbrush." Christopher said. "It's going to be much worse than having your armpits tickled."

    Finally, Christopher did stop tickling my armpits. He climbed off the bed and picked up the feather duster again. He ran the duster over my thighs. I squirmed on the bed and laughed hard and loud.

    "What'll you do to make me stop Peter?" Christopher inquired.

    So that was it. I had known it as soon as I felt Christopher's hard on. I answered Christopher's question with another question... "What would you want me to do?"

    Suddenly, Christopher stopped tickling my thighs and leaned over my face. He lowered my blindfold.

    "Let's start with a kiss." Christopher demanded, making suggestive movements with his lips and tongue.

    I pulled my face away. "Are you nuts?" I yelled. "I'm not queer!"

    "Who said anything about being queer?" Christopher asked.

    "I won't kiss you!" I shouted.

    Christopher shrugged and picked up the feather duster. "Oh well, looks like I'll have to tickle you some more." he said as he blindfolded me again.

    "Alright, alright!!" I said. "I'll fucking kiss you."

    I could feel Christopher smiling. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against mine. To his surprise I responded by shoving my tongue deep into Christopher's mouth. Christopher put one hand behind my neck and squeezed gently as we kissed. Pre cum was oozing out of my dick. When the kiss was done Christopher stood up and resumed tickling my thighs with the feather duster.

    "Hey!!" I yelped. "You promised you would stop tickling me if I kissed you!!"

    "I never promised anything Peter." Christopher responded. "Besides, it'll take more than a kiss to make me stop tickling you."

    Once again I was trapped in a hysterical bout of laughter.

    Christopher finally stopped tickling my thighs about fifteen minutes later. By now I was breathless, sweaty, and thirsty.

    "Lets take another break." Christopher said.

    Once again he lowered my blindfold and gave me a few sips of beer.

    "Having fun?" Christopher asked me.

    "Tons of it." I responded sarcastically. "How much longer are you going to tickle me for?"

    Christopher told me that we still had a way to go yet. Then, he smiled down at me and told me that another kiss might take ten minutes off my torture time. Without any hesitation I opened my mouth. Christopher leaned down and we kissed long and hard again, our tongues exploring each other's mouth. When the kiss ended we looked at each other passionately and Christopher gently squeezed one of my nipples.

    "What happens next?" I asked him.

    Christopher regained his composure and walked to the foot of the bed. I watched as he untied my feet and slowly peeled my black dress socks off me, tossing them on the floor.

    "Oh no." I whispered.

    "Oh yes." Christopher said as he retied my feet to the posts of the bed.

    I saw Christopher take a toothbrush out from under the bed and then I was blindfolded again. Christopher knelt at the foot of the bed and began running the toothbrush bristles over the bottom of my right foot.

    "Oh God, please stop!!" I shrieked.

    Christopher alternated from one foot to the other with the toothbrush. I jerked spasmodically on the bed, howling with laughter.

    "What will you do to make me stop this time?" Christopher asked.

    "Wh-what do you want me to do, kiss you again?" I asked in return.

    The tickling intensified.

    "It's going to take more than a kiss to stop me this time Peter." Christopher said and tickled me more.

    "Tell me what you fucking want!!" I begged.

    I knew at that moment that Christopher felt triumphant.

    "Suck my dick." Christopher announced.

    Christopher stopped tickling me, I stopped laughing, and the room went silent.

    Moments later, Christopher was sitting in a chair, naked. I was kneeling before him, sucking his big dick. I was untied and my blindfold was hanging loosely around my neck.

    "Oh yeah, that feels so good." Christopher said as he caressed the back of my neck.

    I sucked, kissed, and licked Christopher's dick and balls. "Looks like you're enjoying all this Peter." Christopher teased me.

    I stopped and looked up at my friend. "It's better than being tickle tortured." I said.

    Christopher grabbed his dick and pushed it back into my mouth. I resumed sucking him.

    "You still have some tickling to endure my friend." he said. "Remember, I still haven't worked on your ass yet. The game isn't over yet."

    Then, Christopher pulled his dick out of my mouth and shot his load, squirting it all over my chest. The cum dripped down slowly toward my stomach.

    "What a load!!" I remarked.

    "Yeah." Christopher agreed. "Later on we'll see how much you shoot. Now, back to the game!"

    In moments I was tied to the bed again, on my stomach this time, and blindfolded.

    "Welcome to the end of the game Friend." Christopher said. "The tickling of your ass!"

    "Please take it easy." I said.

    Using the feather duster Christopher began tickling my ass cheeks. Once again I began howling and squealing with laughter. Christopher laughed as my ass bounced up and down on the bed. he laughed even harder when I farted.

    "Please stop!" I yelled. "Let's end the game now!!"

    "Only when you tell me what you'll do to make me stop." Christopher replied.

    I now knew what Christopher wanted. I told him to stop tickling me and to go ahead and make me cum.

    "I thought you'd never ask." Christopher said.

    He tickled my ass cheeks a little more and then it happened. He tossed the feather duster aside and reached under my crotch, pulling my dick and balls out from under me.

    "Arrr!!" I yelled as Christopher laid down between my legs and took my hard dick in his mouth.

    He sucked my dick furiously and then I came, squirting it all over the bed sheets.

    "Congratulations Peter, you've survived the T.T. game." Christopher announced.

    Sure, but I still wanted my chance to get even. After all, it wasn't everyday that I allowed someone to do this to me. Christopher untied me and took the blindfold off me. Later, we were both dressed and sitting in the living room drinking another beer each.

    "That was some game." Peter said. "But how about my chance to get even?"

    "Are you sure you want to take that chance, Friend?" Christopher asked warningly. "After all, you do know the rules."

    A look of smug confidence came over my face. "Shuffle the cards...Friend." I said.

    Christopher did. We each drew a card. Christopher drew a three of hearts and I drew a two of clubs.

    "Shit shit shit..." I whimpered as Christopher jumped to his feet and danced around the room, laughing mockingly.

    "I can't believe it!!" Christopher taunted me. I can't fucking believe your bad luck!! C'mon Peter, strip to your socks and lets get started again."

    Moments later I was stripped and blindfolded as Christopher led me back to the bedroom.

    "Looks like it's going to be a long night..." Christopher said.

  48. #48

    A Construction Workers Plight

    I live near a park and one night while cutting through, I notice there's construction going on.

    There's pipes scattered all around. I look into one and see its big enough for someone to fit into. I was alone in the park when all of a sudden I hear a muffled sound. I go around the pipes toward the bushes and I see a pair of work boots sticking out of one of the pipes. I stand in front of the boots and say, "Hey, what's going on in there?" I hear, "I'm stuck in this damn pipe. Can you help me out?" I just stand there staring at his boots getting a hard-on. It's a dream come true. I say, "Sure," and grab a hold of his legs and give a little pull to see just how stuck he really is. He doesn't move at all, so I very slowly reach up and start to untie his boot strings, making sure his boots are loose. I shout, "Maybe this will work," and grab under his boots by the heels and yank with all my strength and fall over backward still gripping two boots. He yells out, "Hey, are you all right out there?"

    I laugh while getting up saying, "Man that didn't work either, but I think I broke my ass on that fall." Then he starts to giggle saying, "I bet that was one hell of a funny site, you falling on your ass."

    "So you think that was funny, huh? I'll give you something funny to laugh at."

    I reach out and run one finger across his left socked foot, from under his toes down to his heel and back up again. His foot jerks and his toes start to wiggle. Before he can say anything, I grab hold of both socks and rip them off his feet. And stand there starring at 2 big magnificent size 12 bare soles, they look so very white, clean and so tender. To which I hear, "Hey buddy what are you doing out there? I thought you where going to help me out." I just stroll over to the bushes and snap off a few twigs, and pull the leaves off.

    Then I say, "So, are they as ticklish as they look, BUDDY?"

    I hear, "Oh no, not that. You wouldn't, WOULD you?

    I yell out, "I WOULD."

    And I start stroking the branches up and down both soles. His feet start twitching but I don't hear any laughter. So I concentrate on one foot, running my fingernails under his toes, down his arches, and the side of his foot. I decide to tickle his arch, scratching ferociously, when all of a sudden (BAM) hysterical laughter.

    I continue for another 5 minutes, then I stop to give him a rest. I start running my hands over his feet to feel the texture of his soles, then I bend down and grip his ankle and lick up his sole. His foot jerks and he starts laughing again, so I lick one foot and reach over and run a stick across his other foot. When I start to lick under his toes, he goes absolutely crazy. Now he's screaming hysterical laughter. I keep it up for about 5 minutes. But I couldn't take anymore. I stood up and unzipped my pants and pulled my throbbing dick out. I started tickling his feet with one hand while jacking myself off with the other, when all of a sudden, I'm shooting into the air.

    I tell him I'm going home to get some tools to help him out. I only live a block away, so I go home and get some tools, all right. Brushes, Combs, Feathers, Forks and Rope.

    I was only gone for under 10 minutes but when I return there was a young skinhead tickling those bare feet. I sneaked up on him and grabbed him around the waist he jumped with a giggle and turned and said, "Oh, it's you".

    I was surprised and said , "Do you know me?" He said," No, I was watching you from the bushes and it looked really fun. I always hoped something like this would happen." He then looked up at me and said, "Can I help you tickle this guy?" I picked up the box I brought with me and said, "Sure, take your pick." He got a big grin on his face and pulled out a comb. I grabbed a brush. He started running the comb along his left arch, while I ran the brush along his right. The feet jerked and laughter poured out of the pipe. We used different objects on those bare feet for the best response. He settled on a pair of stiff feathers to work on the toes while I picked a round brush to twirl along his arches. I tied his big toes together and pulled them back to his ankles and tied them off. So his soles where taut and his toes where opened up.
    He tortured under and between those toes with feathers. While I put the round brush between his arches and spun the brush so both his feet where being tickled at the same time.

    He went crazy with laughter and was swearing for us to stop. His feet where jerking like crazy. I thought he might pull his toes out from all the torture that lad was dishing out. He then let out a scream and his whole body was shaking. I got excited and bent down staring at his now crimson-colored soles and went a little crazy.

    I started scratching my fingernails all over those sensitive soles driving him to the brink of insanity. The toe feathering was also continuing There was no laughter, just a long ear-piercing scream. I couldn't stop myself, I just dug my fingernails into those soft soles. That kid just kept sawing those feathers between his toes without a break. I was thinking this guy must be on the brink of entering hell.
    We then both stopped tickling and used our mouths on his sweaty feet, licking the soles, in between his toes and then sucking on his toes and nibbling them as he went ballistic at the ticklish sensations. We'd then just massage and play with his feet eventually stopping just before dawn and writing on one sole TICKLE and on the other ME we left him to be discovered to be ticklish !
    Last edited by zanadu; January 31st, 2013 at 02:49 AM.

  49. #49

    Justice ... of a kind!

    "Hangin's too good fer ya, ya horse thief!", I exclaim, as the posse rides to the top of the mesa. We've caught him, this outlaw cowboy, and it'll soon be time to execute justice...by my preferred method. No sense wastin' a bullet on this desert scum.

    He's mounted on one of our horses, hands tied behind his back. I slow my own horse down, and taunt him, lettin' him know he ain't got much longer to live. He's real nervous, knows there's no way outta this predicament. I hear him mumble, probably a prayer to his Maker.

    We arrive. Looks like it's several hundred feet to the bottom of this cliff. We wait, allowin' our victim plenty of time to wonder what'll happen next. He sweats, fidgets on his mount. He'd bolt, but he's securely tied to that horse. He's mine, and he's gonna pay dearly.

    We pull him down, stand him just a foot or two from the cliff's edge. My men have their guns pointed at him, should he get any funny ideas. I wind my rope, a hundred foot of it, tightly around his lower legs and ankles, tying the ends in a large knot.

    I toss one of my men a tent stake from my pack, makin' it clear he's to drive it into the ground with ONE swing of the hammer, only. The outlaw watches, horrified. He knows what's next. My man makes a loop in one end of his rope, slings it over the wobbly tent stake, and tosses me the other end. I run it through the ropes circlin' our victim's legs, tyin' it good and tight. There's two, maybe three feet of slack between him and the stake.

    I rise, look him straight in the eye. "Now yer gonna see what we do to horse thieves in these parts. I push him firmly. With his legs tied together, he loses his balance and topples over backwards. Since the majority of his weight already hangs over the edge of the cliff, he slides off, stoppin' when the rope goes taut. His spurs happen to grip the ground right at the very edge of the cliff. He's effectively hangin' by his bootheels.

    I crouch at the cliff's edge, and shout down. "Now, don't you move, outlaw. You saw how loose that stake was. You start thrashin' around, and you'll uproot the thing, and fall to yer death. Hope it don't get too windy."

    I retreat. Unbeknown to our victim, I've tied another length of rope through the loop at the tent stake, and fastened it securely to the ground elsewhere. Ten, twelve feet of slack here, once the rope's stretched out. No, we're not gonna kill him...only make him wish he were dead. We wait for the outlaw's screams.

    Every twitch, every breath of wind, and that stake slips a little more. The outlaw tenses the muscles in his lower legs, tryin' desperately to hang on. Finally, he begs for mercy.

    I return to the cliff's edge, sittin' myself down right next to his big ol' size 13 boots. The twenty somethin' year old outlaw pleads, but I'm unmoved. "Sorry, friend, but you gotta pay fer yer sins. I pull out my knife and show it to him. "NO! Don't cut the rope!", he screams.

    "I wouldn't think of endin' it all that quickly," I reply, as I run the blade along the stitchin' that holds boot to sole, severin' the two. I repeat with the other boot, then slowly peel away the soles, exposin' a pair of large cowboy feet in dirty white wool socks. This outlaw needs a bath, I chuckled. A few more cuts, and the socks fall away, revealin' two of the tenderest lookin' feet I've seen in a long time. This is gonna be good.

    I slowly drag the tip of my finger up and down one sole, then the other. He tries to hold back, but can't. His laughter makes the rope shake, and it slips a little farther. When I tickle both feet at the same time, he bellows like a bull, and involuntarily squirms to avoid the cruel torture.

    Soon, he screams, writhing in ticklish agony so badly that the tent stake pulls loose, and the cowboy plunges until the second rope catches, leavin' him danglin' over the edge. He passes out from fright, pissin' himself in the process.

    No, I don't want to kill this one. Dead men don't laugh! We'll bring him back to the jail, where he'll spend the rest of his sentence barefoot, with ankles chained to the bars of his cell, his big, tender soles stickin' out where me and my men can tickle 'em at our leisure and a couple of cons eager to be set free will lick 'em nice and clean once a week for his feet gonna get mighty sweaty with all the ticklin' torture we got planned for him!

  50. #50


    "SHIT !"

    James Fletcher cursed as he caught sight of the speed camera flash twice in his rear view mirror. He hit the breaks but it was too late.

    "Damn those fucking things" he shouted to himself, turning down the car radio.

    He drove on for a few miles, with the radio turned down, thinking and worrying about the horrid forms he would be receiving in the post in the next few days, asking him to confirm whether he `was the driver of vehicle...' etc. and to appear or appeal before a certain date.

    "Damn !"

    He reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. The broadcast was a few minutes into the news. Ironically, the topic being reported on was a controversial new method being used to deal with Motoring Offences:

    "...the government has, today, approved the extension of a pilot scheme being operated by the new Motoring Offences Enforcement Authority. Special Correctional Treatment for Younger Motoring Offenders or "Scortmode" has been used to discipline a sample of the most serious speeding offenders amongst male drivers in the 17-25 age group. The government has now sanctioned the use of this measure to be applied to a wider group but some people are concerned as to the secrecy of surrounding what methods Scortmode actually uses and why only particular groups of drivers are being targeted. I spoke to Peter Anderton, of the Motoring Offences Enforcement Authority, earlier and put these concerns to him:"

    "...Firstly, our research has found that the uncertainty as to the nature of Scortmode's methods acts as a powerful deterrent against speeding. Our pilot target age group was 17-25 year old male drivers because these have always proven to be the more dangerous of our drivers on the roads. Having found Scortmode effective amongst this age group, we now want to extend the scheme to a section of the 26-35 male driver age group for very good and specific reasons. Our research has further shown that male drivers, who are aged 26-35, in full-time, well-paid jobs are becoming more and more immune to the threat of losing their license. They are able to employ clever and articulate lawyers who argue the case that their clients would suffer unduly, because the nature of their work required them to be able to drive and without a driving license they could become unemployed and unemployable and that society on the whole would not benefit from this. Consequently there is an increasing concentration of offences committed by this group and it is this trend that we are now seeking to reverse."

    "So who can expect now to be subjected to Scortmode ?"

    "We have a set of criteria to follow, based upon an individual's circumstances, including the age and model of the car driven and other indicators as to the offender's financial status - if, after assessing these, the individual falls into that group who frequently are able to avoid the penalty point scheme through their financial ability to hire clever lawyers, they will be summoned to undergo Scortmode."

    "So, at the moment, your not making the actual methods of Scortmode public, but what happens when word gets around - surely those offenders will be sharing their experiences with their colleagues won't they ?"

    "They may or may not do. In any event we have plans in place if and when Scortmode's methods become public."

    "Which are ?"

    "I'm not in a position to say at the moment."

    There was a slight tone of sadistic humour in Peter Anderton's last remark.

    "Probably all some silly bloody weekly counselling sessions" muttered James to himself.

    The report continued to its conclusion:

    "Well, it would seem `watch out all you young executives' because the extension of Scortmode became effective from noon today and if your wondering what it's all about and you've been caught on camera in the last 40 minutes, you'll soon be finding out !"

    "Oh great !" exclaimed James, sarcastically, glancing at the clock which read 12.47, "Just my luck. Typical of the authorities to target the hard-working top-rate taxpayers like me who generate the wealth of the sodding country."

    James was a 31 year old corporate executive, who updated his car to the latest model, every year, and was, in every respect, `doing very nicely thank you'. When he wasn't thrilling from the exhilaration of tearing up and down Britain's motorways, clinching deals in the world of high-finance, he was playing golf or squash or thumbing through sports car magazines.

    He turned off the radio with an annoyed "snap" and pulled up into the car park of the conference centre where the afternoon's business meeting was taking place.

    * * *

    James pulled out of the car park of the conference centre and headed for the rail station.

    "What time's your train ?" he asked.

    "It doesn't matter, they run about every 20 minutes - but there's one at 17.25 I think" replied Alan, a younger colleague James had offered a lift to after the meeting had finished.

    It was 17.00 hours and the hourly news bulletin just started on the radio:

    "Good afternoon, I'm Sarah Featherstone-Haigh, and here is the news on January 25th, 2014..."

    James and Alan both listened to the headlines and James twitched again when the broadcast turned, once again, to the topic of Scortmode and repeated the interview with Peter Anderton.

    "Wonder what all that bloody nonsense entails." James remarked innocently, not wanting to admit his newly arisen predicament.

    Alan remained silent.

    James looked over and noticed that Alan was blushing and looking rather uneasy.

    "You OK ?, Alan"

    "Yeah fine", Alan snapped.

    "Sorry, mate - only asking"

    "Do you mind if we have some music on instead of the news ?"

    "No sure"

    James turned off the radio abruptly cutting off Peter Anderton's voice which was advocating the reasons for the extension of Scortmode.


    James noticed Alan seem to relax a little, the minute he'd turned the news off . His mind turned over then he asked:

    "Alan, have you undergone Scortmode ?"

    Alan jumped and shot an annoyed look at James, followed by a few seconds silence.

    "Yes, I been subjected to Scortmode" Alan eventually replied, nervously. "I was one of their experiments in the 17-25 pilot age group."

    "What does it involve ?" asked James curiously.

    "Please - you don't want to know - and I don't want to tell you - if you ever undergo it it's not something you'd want anyone knowing about either - please - change the subject."

    * * *
    A few days later James received an envelope in the post marked with the sinister-looking MOEA logo of the Motoring Offences Enforcement Authority.

    He gingerly opened it and skimmed the contents of the form inside:

    "Vehicle Details - Notice of Intended Prosecution - Alleged Offence(s) - Requirement to Nominate Driver - Failure to comply with this requirement within 28 days of receipt of this notice is an offence involving penalties on conviction."

    James sighed in exasperation and completed the form, admitting the offence, and returned it.

    "No point in arguing about it" he thought "they've got me - best get it over and done with, whatever it is".

    * * *

    About a week later, James received a further notice from the MOEA:

    "You have admitted to being the driver of the vehicle detailed above and at the time and date stated. This vehicle was photographed by an enforcement camera at the time and dated stated as travelling at 30mph in excess of the prescribed speed limit. This is an offence contrary to Section 2 of Schedule 2 of the Road Traffic Act 1988. In accordance with the provisions set out in the 2014 amendment of the said Act you are required to present yourself at the place and time given below, to undergo Special Correctional Treatment for Young Motoring Offenders (SCorTMOde)."

    James swallowed nervously.

    * * *

    James sat with two other younger guys at the local MOEA centre; all three of them fidgeting nervously. After a while a male warden appeared, dressed in a grey attire similar to that of a surgeon's outfit. He beckoned the three men into a room where there were five other men dressed identically.

    "Please remove your jackets and roll up your left shirt sleeves" one of the men announced, which was duly and nervously done by the three young men in suit and tie.

    James then noticed a hypodermic being prepared. "What's that ?" he exclaimed.

    "It's just a sensitivity drug, it's quite harmless and only lasts temporarily."

    After reluctantly being injected the three offenders were led into another room. On one side there were three chairs equipped with straps and buckles. These were frightening enough but nothing compared to the contraption opposite to them. What would be best described as a dentist's chair was equipped with restraints resembling stocks and the foot end and reinforced leather clasps above the head position. There were stools at both the foot and head ends of the chair.

    James and one of the other offenders were led to the less ominous looking chairs and strapped in securely. The third and youngest offender was led straight to the "dentist's chair" and was firmly seated in it by three of the grey uniformed men. His ankles were fastened into the stocks and wrists into the straps just above his head.

    The effect of whatever those injections were for were now becoming apparent to James. It felt as though every inch of his body was aware of the clothing that surrounded it - his skin had become very sensitive to the lightest touch, so that with every movement he made, the brushing of fabric against his skin made him flinch.

    He watched in awe as a strap was passed around the first victims waist so as to make him almost immobile. Both James and the offender sitting next to him suddenly stopped their nervous breathing and held their breath as one of the wardens sat down on the stool at the foot end of the chair and started to unlace the poor guys shoes ! As if that wasn't terrifying enough, a second warden positioned himself on the stool at the head end of the chair and from behind began loosening the offender's tie ! The guy in the chair flinched a wriggled and gasped nervously.

    "What the hell is this ?!" James thought to himself "What the fuck are these guys gonna do to us ?" James then suddenly became aware of something else which disturbed him - he felt a stirring in his trousers between his legs - he had a raging hard-on ! "Shit !" he thought to himself as he realised that despite his overwhelming feeling of fear and apprehension he was actually getting aroused by this experience !

    James watched on, consumed with sexy terror as one warden pulled of the guys shoes and began to pull at his black nylon socks, whilst the other warden removed the poor guy's silk tie and began unbuttoning his shirt !

    The young executive in the chair flinched and groaned as his socks were peeled off revealing his bare feet and his shirt was pulled open revealing his bare torso. His reactions changed from fear and frustration to one of obvious abject panic as a third warden approached with a trolley on which was displayed various instruments, including brushes and feathers...

    "They can't be...", thought James, "Oh my god they fucking are too !"

    Thinking aloud James shouted "Oh my God !" as the partially exposed young executive screamed: "NO !"

    The wardens paid no attention to either of the protests but continued with their work in a disturbingly precise and methodical way. The warden at the foot end selected a large stiff feather and began circulating round and round on the soles of the victims bare feet. The warden at the head end repeated the exercise on the sides, belly and armpits. The poor guy laughed hysterically, his cackles interspersed with "NO ! PLEASE ! STOP ! OH GOD !"

    Despite this latest horrific revelation, James still had a pounding erection, he sneaked a sly glance at the guy sitting next to him to see if he was suffering the same but nothing was apparent.

    The tickle torture continued for about ten minutes with progressions to brushes and actual fingers digging in to the exposed parts of the poor guy's body. By the end the victim was screaming for mercy and once the wardens stopped his head flopped to one side and his chest heaved in and out gasping for breath. After this he was released and unceremoniously led to the vacant chair opposite and strapped in, where he sat quaking, panting and gibbering.

    James didn't know whether to be thankful or not as the other guy was taken from his "security chair" and was bundled into the "tickle chair". The same process was repeated on the second victim for a second ten minutes with the same reactions of hysterical laughter from another handsome young executive.

    During this James noticed that his arousal was actually limiting the effects of the sensitivity drug and that the brushings of his clothes against his skin as he gently wriggled in his chair became almost pleasurable.

    His heart pounded as his turn came. As he was stood up and led to the chair, his erection let him down - he screwed his face up in embarrassment as one of the wardens pointed to it and said:

    "This one's got a hard-on. We'll have to milk him first."

    "WHAT ?!" shrieked James.

    He tried to resist being strapped into the tickle chair - but it was useless - he was overpowered by six wardens. As his ankles were stocked and his wrists fastened he noticed one of the wardens pulling down a cord from the ceiling. This cord turned out to be a transparent tube on the end of which was an attachment which looked like...

    "No it couldn't be...!"

    ...a milking machine ! The warden then put on a pair of surgical gloves and unzipped James's trousers and pulled out his huge hard cock which was swiftly lubricated with some sort of jelly. The phallic shaped equipment was then placed over James's swollen organ - down as far as it would go - and a switch thrown. The machine pumped and James's cock in a rhythmic motion, something inside it was stroking up and down his shaft ! His feeling of sexy terrified ecstasy was concentrated by the feeling of his shoes being unlaced and his tie being loosened. As his socks were finally pulled off and his shirt pulled back to reveal his gym-worked torso his shot his load into the machine and he gasped as he watched his white cum fly up the transparent tube.

    "Perfect timing" remarked one of the wardens.

    After he'd ejaculated the ultra sensitive feeling immediately rushed back to James's skin and he wailed a plaintiff: "Oh No" as the wardens took to their feathers.

    As he writhed, screamed, shouted and cursed, James noticed a slight look of surprise in the faces of the two previous victims. Yes, he was making much more noise and fuss than they did - so what ? This was fucking torture ! Not only that, but complete humiliation - being half undressed and tickled was one thing - but having an audience was intolerably embarrassing.

    After what seemed like hours, but was only ten minutes, James's Scortmode session was over. He and the other two offenders were released and led into a room where they were given the opportunity to straighten out their business attire before leaving the MOEA centre.

    * * *

    As he drove along the highway, James couldn't stop thinking about Scortmode - every mention of it - every time he thought of it - he was filled with terrific excitement. He'd thought about little else for the last month since it had happened. He couldn't stop thinking about seeing those handsomely groomed executives getting their treatment in the tickle chair. He would LOVE to see it again - but that meant...yes he'd have to go through it again too. He'd have to endure that agony and humiliation. Was it worth it ? His foot tweaked the accelerator. Was it worth it ? After all it was in a closed room and the only audience apart from the wardens were those who had suffered or were about to suffer the same fate. Should he do it ?

    He checked his speed and slowed to within the speed limit as he passed an enforcement camera.

    "Shall I ?!..." he whispered excitedly to himself. After all, the humiliation was actually less public than it would be if he were lose his license, his job - that he would hate ! Everyone would know then - all his friends, colleagues, squash partners. Thankfully, the MOEA had devised this exquisite alternative....

    His cock stirred in his trousers. "Oh Fuck it !" he panted.

    The next camera, the next camera...

    He scanned the side of the road for speed enforcement cameras and warning signs. Eventually he spotted the familiar ugly grey box on a pedestal at the side of the road and floored the accelerator...

    FLASH ! FLASH ! went the camera as he motored past.

    James gasped a sigh of relief - that was it, he'd made the decision - he couldn't go on with the nagging "Shall I, Shan't I" any longer.

    He slowed the car down slightly and turned up the afternoon radio news:

    "...now we return to the controversial subject of Scortmode. The MOEA has today made announcements as to their latest amendments to the treatment which could mean bad news for speeding drivers. Earlier, Peter Anderton made this statement at a press conference:"

    James's heart missed beat.

    "We are pleased to report that Scortmode has been effective in reducing the overall number of offences amongst the targeted group. However, we were hoping to see a much quicker reduction than we have yet experienced. In order to reduce the number of offences at a quicker rate, the MOEA has decided to make the specific treatments used in Scortmode public. The way we are going to do this is not for me to make clear the details now but for me to state that for all offences committed since noon today, all offenders are to have their sessions of Scortmode broadcast on national television......

    James hit the brake...

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