By Footstud

 

 

 

He had a certain air of superiority about him, almost as if we should have felt privileged he had chosen to spend the weekend with US. David was my sister’s latest catch. She had in the past been very helpful to me in supplying the bodies I needed to satisfy my all consuming fetish. Sally had the type of looks that made guys drop dead at the very sight of her. This was most convenient for me; it meant we often had the hottest guys in town hanging around the house trying to court her. As Sally’s fun older brother, I would often find a way to get in on their games. These games would end up with me tickling the little fellows to within an inch of their lives.

David had the cutest little face, angelic, with wavy light brown hair and innocent, deep blue eyes that somehow seemed to look right into you. He was small for a boy of eighteen, perhaps five-foot two inches, and had equally small feet. As I looked at him for the first time I couldn’t help but stare at the little sneakers that clad his feet; I was, however, a bit stunned to note that he was staring at my sister’s bare feet in much the same way! A hot flash engulfed my body. Could it be that he too was a foot lover? Could I hope that I’d finally found or rather my sister had found- the perfect match for me? It was way too soon to tell, I told myself; and besides, we had the whole weekend!

I took his bag upstairs as he made the usual greeting conversation with my parents. I entered my sister’s room and was quick to turn the lock on the door, ensuring myself a few short moments alone to go through his things. To my ultimate joy, right on top were his pair of soft, leather slippers. It was easy to tell that they were fairly new, but had already seen much use. This told me his little feet wouldn’t be hard and callused, but well taken care of, soft and supple to my touch! These slippers were lined with such a thick and soft lamb’s wool that his feet had left little images where they’d been, “like angels in the snow”, I said to myself in anticipation as I traced the shape of each foot with my fingers. I could see the slope of each little toe they must be perfect in exact size order and rounded at the tips as they curved downward. I gave each slipper a long sniff and the aroma was sweet! He had sweet smelling feet! Too much! I deeply inhaled their intoxicating smell.

Just then the stairs creaked, telling me they were on the way up. I quickly put the slippers back, kissing each of his fragrant footprints. I bolted to the door and reached it just as they cleared the landing. I smiled warmly at David as they passed. He simply looked the other way; not really snubbing me, but (once again) taking control, acting superior. I raced to my room in order to relieve myself of all the pent up excitement. As I stroked myself while lying in my bed, I thought of the tickling he would have to endure later on, completely at my mercy. His snootiness would just heighten my conquest! Afterwards I drifted into a short nap. My parents left for their weekend trip while I slept. When I woke I found the note they’d left for me, saying good-bye to Sally and David, and leaving me in charge. I decided to leave the young twosome alone for a time so that David could get himself settled in and comfortable. I went down to the kitchen and started dinner. After about forty-five minutes I decided to check up on the activities of my young charges. I couldn’t have been prepared for what I saw when I opened the door to Sally’s room. They were on the floor, David had pinned Sally’s hands behind her back, his legs were wrapped over hers, trapping them, and with his free hand he was every so lightly and slowly tickling her stomach!

Sally had always laughed in such a way as to make very little noise, so David was able to torture her without my hearing. David had a far-off look on his face and those deep blue eyes seemed in a devilish state of ecstasy as his little fingers probed and danced over Sally’s smooth skin. As he found particularly sensitive areas, causing my poor sister to quake more violently, a cruel wide grin would spread over his face. I was so shocked by this display, all I could say was “time for dinner, kids.” He looked up, noticing for the first time that I’d entered the room; he smiled and let Sally go. There was no fear at being caught, no guilt of any kind, and an apparent rock-hard erection in his shorts.

I left the room and closed the door but this time stayed and listened. I overheard David say to Sally, “We better get down to dinner, that really gave me an appetite. Oh, by the way, after dinner I think I would like a back rub. If I don’t get one, you’ll get another torture session!”

Sally then said, “OK, OK, whatever you want, let’s get down to dinner.” As I heard them move towards the door I flew down the stairs. During dinner David sat next to me and across from Sally. I noticed that every now and then Sally would gasp just a little or jerk in odd ways. As unobtrusively as I could, I stole a quick glance under the table. David had at some point during dinner grabbed one of her feet with his, passed it up to his lap, and trapped it between his legs. He was now coolly and calmly eating his dinner, looking only in his plate, but every now and then he would touch one of her toes or quickly slide his little fingers over her sole. I guessed Sally was embarrassed, so she said nothing. This little imp was tickle-torturing her right there at the dinner table next to me! Talk about a set of balls, this kid didn’t seem to give a damn who saw or knew of his tickling fetish!

In the past I’d had to trick Sally’s friends into a sort of mock fight or argument, and then with an “OK, now you’re going to get it” attitude I would trap and tickle them–but this kid was asking for it! I’d have no problem justifying a nice long tickling session for David; I already had all the reasons I needed. I regretted the fact that I had no video camera to record the wild, torturous comeuppance I had planned–after all, he was a greedy little tickling bastard himself. After dinner, David and Sally went back up to her room and I cleared the table. As soon as they were out of sight I flew up the stairs and returned to listening at the door. This is what I heard: “No, David! I don’t want to play that tickling game any more! Stop! Get away from me! Enough already! Nnnnooo!” poor Sally whined. “I’ll tell you when it’s enough! Give me that foot! Now!”

After the sounds of a brief struggle, there was silence. I opened the door just a crack and looked in. David was sitting up on the bed and Sally was lying on her back on the floor, in front of him. He had captured both of her feet in his lap and was winning his struggle to take off the socks she had made a point of putting on right after dinner. I opened the door all the way and walked in just as David had gotten both the socks off and was making a big show of the fact that he was about to pounce on her vulnerable soles. He had that same faraway look on his face (one I’d felt on my own many a time). David was now letting his fingers dance in the air just an inch or so from Sally’s soles. I cleared my throat, but though he looked up and saw me, he just smiled and went on!

This was the last straw! I leapt on David, pulling him off Sally, and with one easy movement I pinned him to the floor. “There’s $20 on the kitchen table”, I yelled to Sally. “Take it and go to a movie or something. I’ll take care of this little creep for you!”

Happy to be free of her tormentor, she replied, “I’ll stay over at Stefani’s house. You can have him the whole night.” And then to David, “Have fun, you little creep!” She promptly left as I trapped my squirming prey.

“What do you mean?!” David cried, still sounding indignant, and struggling to get free. “Let me go! Get off of me!” he commanded. He was completely surprised by the turn of events, and had no idea what nasty little horrors I had planned for him. I held him there pinned to the floor until I heard the front door slam shut behind Sally, then I let him up.

“What the fuck’s going on!?” he hollered petulantly.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Davey?”

“What the fuck is going on!? What the hell did Sally mean you could have me for the night?!”

“Well, you had your fun with Sally–I saw you tickling her all night–now it’s my turn!”

I was savoring the dread that must have been dawning upon him while he stood there, shocked and silent for a moment. But suddenly a lewd smirk began to ooze over his face and he started looking me over carefully.

“Ohhhh. I get it. Keep it all in the family. Well, too bad Sally didn’t want it, but I guess you’ll do just as well. As a matter of fact, it might be a lot of fun to make a big lug like you squeal with laughter, beg me for mercy!”

I was incredulous. This little egomaniacal Napoleonic putz was too much! He thought all this was just my jealous desire for him to tickle me! What a self-centered, pompous asshole!! I bashfully nodded, took him by the hand and led him to my room. Such a warm, soft little hand. I led him to the sturdy, king size brass bed in my room, and then proceeded to lock the dead bolt at the top of the door. Even if he got away for a moment, he’d never have time to undo the lock before I got to him. I playfully picked him up and dropped him on the bed. He was smirking from ear to ear in anticipation.

As he sat on the bed I went under it to get my tickling toys. While I was under there, the little shit suddenly jumped on my back, grabbed me around the waist and dug his tickling fingers into my ribs! I spasmed and hit my head against the bed frame as I struggled to get away. He was laughing wildly, sinisterly, as I wriggled out from under the bed, giggling and rolling him off my back. “Oh man, you’re ticklish! It’s gonna be a ball making you scream!” he gleefully gloated. A bump rising on my head, my face red, I silently let him revel in his ignorance. David sat mesmerized by my leather cuffs and straps as I took them out of their box. He took hold of one, curiously fondling it. “Talk about submissive—you even come with your own bondage”, he snickered, as I fixed the wrist restraints to the posts at the head of the bed.

“Hurry up, slave!” he said. “I haven’t got all night. Strip off your rags and make yourself ready!” He held out a pair of restraints to me, demanding my immediate submission. I turned obediently towards him, eyes cast downward, wrists upturned, and he triumphantly approached, about to bind me. Suddenly I grabbed his wrists, flung him backwards onto the bed and leapt on top! The look on his face! He struggled like mad, but this “big lug” quickly secured his wrists to either post, his arms stretched above his head as he struggled and cursed in vain. Now that he was secured I sat up to survey my triumph. He lay puffing from his exertions, his face red with fury, glaring at me with hatred and fear. “Let me fucking go or you’re gonna be in big trouble!”

“Oh, really? That would be terrible. What could possibly happen, Day-vee?”

He struggled for some threat, anything. “I’ll tell! I’ll tell everyone you’re a perverted fag, and you molested me!”

“Oh dear! That’s terrifying”, I snidely taunted him, gloating as I lightly poked at his armpits through his shirt, causing him to jump. “Gee, everyone will automatically believe you, right? Even after Sally tells them you did the same to her? And eagerly wanted to do the same to me? Anyway, how will you prove it?”

I sat on his knees and looked down at him. He was really getting scared now, looking at me with horror. I rotated to face his feet, leaned over and began to unlace his sneakers. He started struggling again, twisting his feet feverishly to avoid the inevitable. I pulled each sneaker off and right away that sweet smell hit me; his feet were really damp in his thick soft socks. I didn’t so much as graze his soles at this point–I’d save the best for last! After rolling his socks down, I took one of the padded leather straps and tied his struggling feet together at the ankles, and then tightly to the bar at the foot of the bed. I left his socks on for the time being, to preserve his moist tenderness–and his false sense of security.

David looked like a trapped animal; the sight caused my hard-on to throb fiercely. He must be incredibly ticklish! I sat back down on his knees and slowly pulled his sweat shirt over his head to his wrists. He fought as best he could, squirming around on the bed. I was in love! He had a smooth, tight, rippling little belly, with the cutest little innie belly button. He was breathing heavily, fearfully, in quick, ragged gulps, trying to calm down, unsuccessfully. “No! Please! What do you want?! I’ll give you whatever I have, anything, just don’t! Please! What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything of yours, Davey. At least not anything I don’t already have!”

“I’ll. . . I’ll faint. I’ll have a heart attack! I have a heart condition, I’ll die, right here in your bed and you’ll be to blame!”

“Gee, Davey, you must have a very selective heart condition, ’cause Sally told me you were a star on the soccer team. I guess I’ll just have to take my chances.”

“Wait! I’ll get you others! I can get you all the guys you want!” Hmmmm. That sounded intriguing. “Give me a break”, I said. How would you do that?”

“My fraternity!” he blurted out feverishly, grasping for hope. “They made us do all sorts of things during hazing. Upper-class brothers could order us to do anything. I’ll give you all the willing victims you want–I was gonna tickle the shit out of them myself. You can be my partner! Just think, all those freshmen feet to torture!”

I paused for a moment to consider. Now this was something! But there was no way of ensuring he would deliver–especially since I knew he was such a selfish, greedy bastard. He looked up imploringly. “That’s quite an offer, Davy, but guess what. That’s all maybe–you are mine NOW!”

“NO, NO, NO, PLEASE!” I started with a very light touch, just two fingers, one on each of his perfect, heaving little sides. He went rigid, clenching every muscle in his body in resistance. I ever so lightly ran all my fingers up and down his sides, quick to stop and work on any area that showed itself to be a bit more sensitive. I was having the time of my life as he struggled to control his breathing and keep from twitching; what smooth, silky, quivering skin he had.

Next I began to knead his tight little ribs, one at a time, back and forth, over and over; each rib in turn was mine. After a few incredible minutes of an intense struggle of wills, his resistance began to crumble as his little chest heaved and tried to breath. He was bouncing on the bed and trying in vain to get away from my ever present fingers. I took my time, slowly, teasingly, making it last, making every stroke count!

My next targets were his erect little nipples. I used one finger on each, pushing them in and then swirling my fingertips around in a circular motion, light as a feather, then equally as light with my fingernails. It maddened him, this slow teasing, a kind of sexual tickle which made him moan and thrash. I continued the teasing stimulation with my mouth, licking and sucking, and occasionally nipping his hard little tits, causing him to suddenly buck and yelp, letting loose his whimpering giggles. By now a good twenty-five minutes had flown, so I gave him a moment to catch his breath, which he used mostly to beg. “Thank you, thank you. Oh God, please, no more, no more! Anything! I’ll do anything you say! anything!”

“Anything?”

“Yes! Yes! Anything! Just name it! Please! Any. . .”

“Gee, that’s great. I’ll keep your offer in mind”, I replied as I reached for his armpits, his eyes widening in renewed horror. I used my fingers as light little shovels and made scooping motions in the soft, hairless skin. It was the most sensitive place on his body so far. After a good five minutes in his underarms, I decided to place my face on his tight quivering belly and lick, kiss, nibble and brush it with my beard stubble, tickling it wildly, while still digging at his armpits. He jerked as best he could and screamed in a higher and higher voice. I loved his smooth underarms, they were warm and dripping now. God, how they made him react! His laughter was bouncing off the walls. I next decided to try licking them, lapping at his tender skin, sucking it in to taste every drop of his delicious sweat as he contorted his torso to try to bring his arm down, his biceps flexing beautifully against the bonds.

He had incredible stamina for such a ticklish boy. Tears were welling from his eyes, his breath came in short pants, his body shook all over and I started on his belly and ribs again. I let my fingers slide in free forming circles and odd little patterns across his hairless chest. Just when I felt he was close to losing it, I realized it was time–time for the best, the most fun of all–his ticklish little feet! I stopped the tickling all at once and got off the bed. I let him regain his sanity for a minute. His eyes were shut as he tried to regain control of his heavy breathing, to clear his throat. He was really spent at this point and I think he actually thought it was all over. He couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. Little beads of sweat soaked his head and chest.

I realized I’d been tickling him for an hour by that time. The kid was out of it, barely able to talk. “Please, please . . . no more! I’ll be your slave…anything…just no more.” I knew he was ready for the ultimate tickle torture! I lay down on him, fully covering his tight, hot, sweaty, trembling little body with mine, so I could savor his every reaction. Had he opened his eyes he would have seen that I was facing his feet. I glanced back to enjoy the look on his face as I lightly took hold of the top of his thick right sock.

“NOOOO!!!” he shrieked.

“But that’s the best part!”

“NOOO!!! NOOO!! NOT MY FEET!! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE MY FEET!! ANYTHING, ANYTHING BUT NOT THE FEET!!”

With that I pulled off his sock. I was right! These were the most perfect feet I had ever seen! Smooth, soft, sexy, pink boytoys! His feet and nails looked as if they were kept groomed by a professional. And, Oh God, that delicious smell!! I quickly pulled off the other sock to double my pleasure, as he hysterically tried to jerk away, straining to keep his socks on.

I started by lightly licking the tops of the feet, and he screamed a scream that put all the others to shame! I was in Heaven!! These were the most sensitive feet I’d ever encountered. No wonder he was so into tickling! I let my fingers dance under each toe as he laughed, jerked and screamed. I pulled the toes apart to lick and flick my tongue between them as they squirmed and wiggled to escape, his laughter interspersed with shrieks. Then for the first time I let my fingers run all over his very, very sensitive soles. His body bounced off the bed, arching completely in the air, with me on top, shaking the entire bed!! “AAAAAAHHH!!!” he gasped. “NOOOOOO!!!”

I followed each little path on his soles with my lips, mouth and fingers; I sucked each and every toe, swirling them in my slavering mouth. He was losing his mind! I found the special ticklish places on the soles and spent extra time there, nibbling, stroking, scraping my fingernails, lapping away. He screamed, his toes danced, and I loved it! The bed was soaked with sweat as he bounced on it. I quickly pulled down his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing little dick, plastered to his stomach by his soaked underwear. I stripped off my sweaty shirt, jeans and socks, and jumped back on him for an incredible ride, my dick crushed between our bodies, his writhings massaging me, lubricated by our sweat. From my bag of tricks I pulled one of my feathers, running it all over his soles and between his toes! I thought he was going to die, from the sounds he was making! I made him lose all control; he bucked and banged against my dick as I ran the feather under and between his curling toes, tears streaming from his face.

Then I decided to give David another short break. I got off the bed and looked down affectionately at my poor, hot little tickle-slave. “So, how does it feel finally being on the other end of the feather?!”

With a meek, beaten, genuinely imploring voice he replied, “Just leave my feet alone. That’s all I ask. You can tickle me anywhere else, but I can’t stand it on my feet.” I moved in closer, and calmly laid my hand on the top of his foot. He jumped at first, and was tense, but then the simple, calming touch let him relax. He couldn’t see my other hand, which had just fished out several paint brushes and other implements. As lightly as possible, I ran the small, soft brush up the center of his sole, then slowly swirled it around on the tender ball of his foot, which shivered at the torturous sensations.

David held his breath desperately, but his entire leg began to tremble. I climbed back on top of him, to savor the incredible feel of his quivering body against my desperate dick. I began to stroke the bristles up and down his trembling feet, more and more quickly, and suddenly he exploded again!! Laughter and struggling shook the room. His toes flailed wildly in the air, but his feet couldn’t escape my torment. The brush stroked on and on, up the arches as his toes desperately clenched, the soft bristles wildly teasing his most sensitive spots as his body shuddered and thrust against mine.

His sweaty little dick had poked its way out of his under wear and was grinding into my belly and groin. Every giggle, groan and shriek vibrated through my dick, prodding me on. All I needed to do to turn up the sensations was tickle him more ruthlessly! David’s laughter had turned into hysteria, knowing no bounds, no reality, no relief, tears streaming all over his face, mixing with sweat.

His feet shuddered, twitched and spasmed. The boy had become a mass of quivering foot-flesh. I now pounced on his feet with my mouth again, while using a stiff-bristled whisk broom on his soles. He lunged off the bed again!! Our dicks mashed against one another between our bellies, his convulsing muscles rubbing up against my cockhead, licking, grinding, lubing it. Up and down, up and down, shrieking, my tickling turning his body into a sex dynamo, a bucking bronco-dildo, a raging, straining dick.

I was close . . . close. . . almost there. . . I whisked wildly at his bound, squirming soles as my tongue tortured his toes, causing him to thrust up against my dick, harder and harder. “AAAUUUUGHGHG!!!” We screamed in unison, our dicks exploding on one another. “AAAUUGHGH!!!” We pulsed, our bodies writhing, thrusting, pumping against each other. “AAAUUUGHGH!!!” I continued to fuel the fire bursting from us, my brush flailing at his taut, tethered feet, my teeth now biting his two big toes. “AAAUUUGHGH!!!”

Sometime, I’m not sure how long later, I returned to earth. David was still calming down, his body occasionally wracked by a small fit of shaking. I released him from his bonds, but he didn’t move or struggle, his eyes didn’t even open. I wondered whether something might actually be wrong. Even after a few moments, while I went to get a warm bath going for him in the tub, he lay motionless except for occasional passing waves of trembling. Fearfully, I lifted his damp, limp, flushed body and lowered him into the soothing water. I washed him–my devastated boy tickle slave-victim, who had excited me and pleased me more than any other–cherishing him, trying to make him well. His eyes remained closed, though he wasn’t quite asleep, or awake.

I quickly changed the soaking sheets on my bed and turned the mattress. I drained the water and lifted him out of the tub, then wrapped him in a towel and placed him in my bed. I climbed in beside him and pulled a blanket over us. He snuggled against me for warmth, and I cradled his head in my arm. I felt his lips against my chest–he was kissing me!! I leaned my head down, and his up. I kissed his lips lightly, and they opened to let me in, his tongue gingerly lapping at mine.

Tickler’s Trade