I wrote another Patrick installment. It's been a while.
Check my profile for links to the rest of the series if interested.
After lunch Patrick took me back upstairs and strapped my ankles to the bedframe for another few hours of playful foot tickling, this time face down on the bed. I gleefully made a mess of the duvet and pillows by clawing at them as my wiggling bare feet were licked and tickled at the other end of the bed. Some time around about 4pm Patrick stopped and unshackled my ankles. He let me up and I turned and leaned over to suck his majestic cock again thinking he had once more reached the point of insatiability. He was more than a little aroused judging by the bulge once more easily visible in his pants, but satiation had not been his intent.
“Tickle boy, do you recall that daytime is playtime?”
“Yes Master.”
“And have you had fun?”
“Yes Master, soooo much fun! I love it when you tickle my feet! Especially when you hold my toes in your mouth and then do that tweaking thing with your fingers on my arches…” Patrick waved a hand to cut me off.
“Do you recall that the evening is reserved for torture?” The word gave me an instant thrill.
“Yes master.”
“You should prepare yourself. Let’s go downstairs. Come.”
I followed him down not to the basement as I thought, but to the ground floor sitting room.
“Strip.”
I complied immediately and stripped every stitch of clothing off to stand naked and vulnerable before him.
“Put these on.”
He instructed handing me leather wrist and ankle cuffs. They were the sort which could all be fastened together in a cross to form a hogtie. I sat down on the couch and fit each cuff snug onto my wrists and ankles. Patrick looked at his watch. Then, once I had put on my cuffs, he came over, man-handled me onto my belly and completed the hogtie by clipping the cuffs to each other.
“Yes. That will do nicely as their first look at you as they walk in.”
“Excuse me Master?”
“We are expecting guests tickle boy. I will be showing you off to a good friend of mine and his lee this evening. I have invited him to come over and use you for your ticklish body tickle-boy. His name is Ron and his lee is Anthony. The three of us will be enjoying an evening of sadistic tickle torture at your expense. They will tickle you but nothing more unless you consent to me that I can let them. I can vouch for them and for your safety if you do consent. They are very eager to meet my new toy. How do feel about that tickle boy?”
I was lost for words. I was definitely excited though. I had never been gang tickled in my life.
“I… I’m going to be gang tickled?”
“Yes tickle boy. And my friend is every bit the foot fetishist that I am. Imagine that. Two insatiable tickle torturers tickling your feet at once. Perhaps even three if Anthony is feeling mischievous.” He could tell that the thought excited me. “And who knows, as the night draws on we may well strap Anthony down and you can try your own hand as a tickler. Anthony is twenty-four and has very beautiful ticklish feet. Would you like that Tickle boy?”
“Yes Master, very much!” I was genuinely curious as to what these multiple experienced and devilish ticklers might have in store. “Would it please you if I consented to whatever they wanted to do to me?”
“Yes Tickle-boy, it would, but you are not obliged.”
“You may tell them I consent Master. The three of you may do anything you want to me!”
“Mmmm, tickle boy you are just the sweetest. You are in for quite an evening.”
Patrick sat down on the long cream leather couch behind me with my hogtied toes in his face and began sucking and licking at them. My semi loose feet twitched and wiggled and my toes popped out of his slurping mouth comically a few times as I reflexively withdrew with a sqeak. He continued lightly licking and mouthing them, allowing them to move a little, obviously entertained by it.
After a few minutes of teasing my hogtied feet, the doorbell rang and Patrick got up and answered it. I was alone in the room for a little while. I was excited. Despite my extreme ticklishness I found myself looking forward to being gang tickled. I was addicted to the energy I brought out in Patrick, the lust for my ticklish body radiating out of him, personified in his seemingly ever-erect and intimidatingly large cock. To have that doubled, possibly tripled… to have a brand new tickle hungry Dom eyeing my feet lasciviously… Oh yes. I was excited.
I heard footsteps and I craned my head up to watch Patrick sweep into the room, still wearing nothing but his unfastened luxurious bath robe and slippers, his immense cock fully erect and fully exposed. That this was how he had answered the door took me a little by surprise but spoke volumes to me about his guests. Behind him came two men arm in arm. On the left was a short but powerfully built man. He was entirely bald, heavily tanned and obviously no stranger to the gym judging by his physique. He wore jeans and a crisp lilac shirt which barely contained his pecs. I assumed this was Ron. On Ron’s arm was his physical opposite; a tall young waif-like pale skinned boy who I took to be Anthony. Anthony wore his shoulder length blonde hair in two bunches either side of his head, black PVC cropped trousers and a faux fur coat over his bare pale chest. He wore large platform patent leather shoes without socks. He also appeared to be wearing purple lipstick on his wryly smiling lips, from which he removed a lollipop as he saw me. Ron looked at me and smiled a hungry, predatory smile.
“Ron, Anthony, this is Tickle-Boy. Tickle-Boy these are my friends Ron and Anthony.”
“Oh Pat, he’s delicious!” said Anthony, detaching himself from his Master’s arm and delicately sitting his small butt on the arm of my couch. His mannerisms were very overtly ‘fem’ and I wondered if perhaps this was how Patrick wanted me to behave, if perhaps I had a lot to learn as a tickle slave.
“Fuck yes, Pat. I definitely approve.” said Ron in a gruff but eloquent London accent. “We were worried you’d get your hopes up and get no-showed again weren’t we sweets?” Anthony nodded.
“Well rest assured Ron, I have finally found my lee just as you have found yours and tonight we will enjoy them in tandem my good friend.”
“His feet are perfect!” gushed Anthony. “I can’t wait to hear what his giggles sound like!”
Patrick and his guests stood around me examining my naked hogtied body for a good while, comparing notes and planning the evening’s leisure activities.
“Where are my manners?” asked Patrick. “Let’s get you boys a drink.”
“Scotch, thanks Pat.” Said Ron.
“Martini please Pat,” said Anthony. “Does he like to suck toes?” Pat paused on his way to the kitchen to consider Anthony’s question.
“I’m honestly not sure. I think he likes to suck girl’s toes, or at least he did before he discovered his true purpose. Is that right Tickle-Boy? You’re a sissy straight boy aren’t you?”
“Yes Master.” I replied. Anthony sat up and placed palms flat on his knee. “Can I make him suck my toes please Pat? Pleeeeease? Pretty please?”
“Yes, of course! I’ll get the drinks and join you in a minute.”
Anthony gave a little squeal of excitement and clapped his hands. Then, maintaining naughty and suggestive eye contact with his Master, he quickly flipped off his Dr Marten’s exposing his pale slender bare feet. Ron smiled and stroked the outline of his own hard cock through his jeans.
Anthony’s feet were even more feminine than mine. They looked buttery soft. They were big, perhaps the same size as mine, maybe a little bigger. They were pale and cute with soft little toes painted dark purple, slightly shorter and chubbier than I expected given his slender frame. They looked like girl feet and were as pretty as any I had ever seen on a girl. I did feel my cock throb as I saw them and I had no objection to sucking those beautiful toes. Anthony folded one leg and extended the other, offering the toes for me to suck. Struggling a little against my hogties, I shuffled into a better position and began slurping and sucking on Anthony’s toes. They were delicious; just a little sweaty from being inside his clumpy patent leather platforms. He raised his hands to his mouth and began to giggle and whimper softly into them as my tongue explored his toes.
“Are you trying to get a rise out of me already sweets?” asked Ron, still stroking his cock through his jeans. “You’re going to get yourself into trouble.” Anthony winked at him and continued feeding me his toes.
Patrick came back in with a tray of drinks and placed them on the table. Then he walked over to the couch and swept me up in his arms.
“Shall we?”
Anthony slipped back into his shoes and he and Ron collected their drinks and followed.
I was taken down into the basement again; the scene of so much delicious tickle torture, and Patrick placed me on the bondage table with my cock through the opening he had designed for it. He switched on his camera equipment and set about removing the hogties and instead immobilising me even tighter in the snug confines of the bondage table’s cuffs, stocks and shackles. Ron and Anthony kissed passionately and enjoyed their drinks. This time Patrick adjusted the ankle stocks so that my feet were separated in the outer holes. Anthony walked over while I was being locked into the restraints and began walking two fingers over my lower back and my bare buns, causing me to laugh silently and clench my cheeks. Just in my field of view, I saw Ron strip off his clothes, visible to my massage table vantage point only from the knees down. Once he was fully naked, he walked closer and squatted his muscular body down. His cock was only a shade smaller than Patrick’s and it pointed up at me with intent. He leaned under the table and whispered in my ear.
“We’re going to tickle you good sissy boy.”
Then he stood up and gently slapped his cock against my cheeks a few times leaving a little string of pre cum as he departed.
After the short and efficient efforts of Patrick, I was once again immobilised and ready for whatever they had in store. Anthony plopped down on the couch opposite me, just visible to me if I craned my head up as far as I could see. He blew me a kiss, slipped his shoes off again and rolled onto his belly to lie in ‘the pose’ with his beautiful feet waving around playfully. The red light lit up on the camera. I heard Ron and Pat take their stools at my feet and the scent of Pat’s cigar smoke wafted over.
Unbeknownst to me Ron and Pat had selected two feathers each, one for each hand tickling my feet, two per foot. As quickly as Patrick had worked to fasten me into the bondage table, the anticipation still had more than enough time to build in my mind. I could feel my feet getting more sensitive as I lay there knowing what was coming, feeling their gaze on my tender bare soles. Just before the torture began, I concentrated and explored in my mind the power I held to use my attractive bound bare feet to harden those two huge cocks behind me. Physically, I was wholly in their power to use me and tickle torture me as they saw fit, but my young body gave me the power to drive these men into animal lust. I slowly and gently spread and wiggled the eight untied toes on each foot as a little amuse-bouche to tempt them. I couldn’t see either of them, but I knew that both men were inflamed by my bare feet and I explored that, knowing full well it would likely land me in even greater tickle-peril.
“well look at these wiggly toes… Looks like someone wants to get tickled,” said Ron. “Ready Pat?”
“Bon-apetit Ron.”
My face was already screwed up into a pre-emptive grin before they started.
Ron and Pat’s feathers joined the fray precisely in tandem. I squealed and yelled out a series of loud “OH”s before the giggles poured fourth, surprising even myself at precisely what noises came out of me unbidden when my feet were tickled. Each foot was treated to long slow drags of the feathers up and down alternately in predictable but torturous languorous strokes from heel to toes taking in the full length of my creamy white arches. They had practised this. They had a plan. Patrick’s left feather would reach my toes just as the right flicked off my heel, and Ron the same. My giggles sounded like a recording played back a few frames quicker than original footage. I looked up as I squirmed and giggled and made eye contact with Anthony across from me on the couch. He winked at me and reached a hand down his pants to stroke himself.
Patrick was his usual genial self but I could hear Ron’s aggressive grunts and curse words, uttered partly to me but mainly for his own benefit.
“Ugh… Fuck! Fuck yeah! Wiggle those piggies for me! I’m gonna tickle you so bad boy, fuck yeah! Mmmm… Uugh… Fuck… Pretty fucking soles here pretty boy… Coochie fucking cooo!”
His enthusiastic ramblings served to tickle the inside of my mind as his feathers tickled my right foot methodically. Where Patrick could sometimes be understanding and considerate of my enjoyment (when not consumed in tickle-torture lust), Ron was a tickle-bully pure and simple.
I had no idea how long Patrick and Ron feather-tickled my feet for but Patrick outlasted Ron. Ron abandoned the feathers and began tickling my right sole with his fingers. He dove straight in for scratchy finger tickles and I heard his grunts pick up a notch as the character of the tickles on my right foot suddenly changed. My left continued to be feather tickled in light but devastatingly artful tickles while my right was full on scratch-tickle tortured. I was crying laughing, no longer able to look up at Anthony’s elfin form reclining on the couch. My whole body was racked with tortured laughter and my hard cock, swinging free below the table, bounced as I struggled. The torture applied to my right foot took on another element as Ron leaned in and began hungrily feasting on my toes, nibbling and sucking as he tickled my arch.
Ron’s fingernails and mouth continued their assault, his bullying words and grunts of pleasure now muffled by my toes, as I felt the torturously-light feathers stop tickling my left foot. I was kept squealing and pouring out giggles as Patrick massaged some lubricant, possibly oil but most likely butter, all over my left foot. He said something to Ron which I didn’t catch and Ron stopped. My giggles petered out into whimpers.
“Watch this Ron. I know exactly how to make him dance.”
Patrick began to drag a hairbrush over my raised and buttered left heel. I burst out into hysterics again and began to pray that the brush would not migrate further down into my even more yielding arch but of course, it did. Ron emitted a chuckle and then began buttering my right foot. He stuck with his fingernails while Pat employed the hairbrush, but both men now began to suck the butter from my protesting toes.
Then after what seemed like a lifetime but was probably only ten minutes, Ron stopped and sat up.
“Ohhhh fuck Pat, this boy is a find! ANTHONY! It’s time.”
Ron stood up and walked over to Anthony on the couch. Anthony smiled and rearranged himself as He knew his Master wanted him. He climbed up from ‘the pose’ and sat back as Ron sat down. He waited for his Master’s word.
“Feet,” said Ron forcefully.
Anthony immediately obliged, placed his bare soles on Ron’s cock and began to give him a foot job. Patrick began tickling both my feet now and Ron watched the tickle show as Anthony stroked him with those tasty toes I had been allowed to briefly taste earlier.
“…and mouth,” barked Ron.
Anthony, surprising me with his flexibility, leaned over. Keeping his toes wrapped around Ron’s cock shaft, he leaned in and began to suck the head urgently, his purple lip gloss leaving smears up and down the sides of Ron’s shaft. I cried with laughter, leaked generous dribbles of pre-cum onto the floor, endured Patrick’s expert tickle-torture on both of my buttered feet and watched as Ron grabbed both of Anthony’s bunches and fucked his face and toes to an angry roaring climax.
Patrick stopped tickling my feet.
Anthony lovingly licked and sucked up all of Ron’s load and cleaned his cock thoroughly. I watched in admiration and more than a little lust as Anthony’s pretty mouth licked and sucked Ron’s cock and his own toes. Then Patrick’s familiar engorged cock swung into my frame of view, mere inches from my face.
“Oh my God Pat!” said Ron. “We are so glad you found him! Aren’t we sweets? That’s a good boy. Clean Daddy’s cock. It’ll be your turn to suffer soon.”
“Tickle-boy? Are you ready?” asked Pat.
“Yes Sir…” I gasped, out of breath but genuinely looking forward to pleasing the cock I had made so hard and eager.
Patrick stepped forwards and I opened wide allowing him to push all the way into my mouth and right to the back of my throat. Patrick moaned in pleasure and slicked my mouth with his own salty pre-cum. I curled my toes, knowing he was staring at them, as his cock began to slowly and luxuriously slide back and forth exploring my mouth. I closed my eyes and worshipped its full length. Patrick luxuriated in my mouth for many minutes as my tongue and lips worked to please him. Then he withdrew without cumming and I immediately knew his intent.
“Boys, would you be so kind as to tickle his feet while I fuck him?”
“Sure Pat.”
Ron and Anthony eagerly hopped up and made their way around to the stools at my feet. The tickling began again in earnest and I squealed a series of shrill squeals before dissolving into panicked laughter as usual. Ron this time took my left foot and immediately dived into harsh fingernail tickling on my arches and nibbling teeth torture on my toes. Anthony took a more delicate approach and poked his tongue in between my toes while grazing his fingertips over my arches.
I wiggled and squirmed in my tight bonds but Patrick climbed up onto the table straddling me and quickly held my squirming butt down with his weight. He smeared a generous dollop of butter into my butt crack, greased his cock and then drove it slowly but inexorably inside me.
My moan of pleasure, pain and surprise managed to voice itself over my giggles and Patrick’s cock descended to the hilt into the hot silky-smooth confines of my sissy tickle boy butt. Once again, I was his. The feeling of fullness his thick cock imparted made me feel fully owned, even as the tickles continued to torture my bare feet. I laughed and moaned gratefully as Patrick’s cock slowly fucked me to its final satisfaction. Moaning loudly, Patrick pumped my ass full of hot pent-up cum. The foot tickling continued until Patrick waved it off.
“Thank you boys. That is a very good start to the evening’s festivities, wouldn’t you say Ron?”
“You throw the best parties Pat.”
Patrick withdrew from me and climbed down to go wash himself in the sink. Ron joined him and the two conversed about how delicious I was, their plans for me, and about some business matter I didn’t understand. That left me, foot tickled to tears, mouth fucked, ass fucked and still strapped down, a used tickle toy exactly where I deserved to be. It also left Anthony at a loose end. Anthony was apparently feeling mischievous and had not yet cum.
He walked around to where my face lay in the massage table hole, flushed and smeared with pre-cum and drool. He sat down cross legged before me and smiled at me. Then he uncurled his long legs and raised one foot to my mouth. I was elated to have another chance to suck his delicious toes and did so without hesitation. Anthony closed his eyes and smiled, stroking his extended leg with his other foot. After a short while, the stroking foot stroked all the way down and into my mouth and he swapped feet. He enjoyed getting his toes sucked for a while then lay back and presented both soles stretched flat for me to lick while he massaged my face with them.
“Sir? May I?” asked Anthony, shouting over to Ron and Pat.
“Sure. Make sure it’s still recording,” said Pat.
Anthony stood up and checked the camera. Then he walked off down the side of the table towards my feet, tickling my armpit and butt with his fingers again as he passed. He arrived at my feet and began tickling them with his slender dextrous fingers, taking the time to tickle in between and under my toes. He tickled over my heels and up my calves, then walked back up the other side tickling my bare buns again. There he stopped, crouched down and looked under at my poor rock hard neglected cock. I heard him shuffle under the table. I gasped in surprise as he took my cock into his mouth and began to apply to me to the same exquisite delight he had just treated his Master to.
I gave no thought to the noises I emitted, pure undisguised pleasure, nor to the camera still rolling, capturing every moment. I came quickly in his skilled mouth. He milked the last drops out of me with his hand. Pleased with himself, he wiped his lips and stood up. He strolled back around to my face. He unbuckled his leather trousers and slipped them down to reveal his modest but perfectly formed cock, entirely shaven smooth. He politely pushed it against my lips and I happily returned the favour, sucking him enthusiastically. He reached a hand around to his own butt and inserted a finger, massaging his prostate as he started to cum into my mouth, gasping with breathy gasps of pleasure. Just as I would with Patrick, or indeed Ron, I made every effort to swallow every drop. I could look down and see his painted toes on the floor, curling as he came. He finished with an adorable little descending squeal of approval and slipped out from between my lips. He squatted down and kissed me, then backed away with a wink.
The night was young.
Check my profile for links to the rest of the series if interested.
After lunch Patrick took me back upstairs and strapped my ankles to the bedframe for another few hours of playful foot tickling, this time face down on the bed. I gleefully made a mess of the duvet and pillows by clawing at them as my wiggling bare feet were licked and tickled at the other end of the bed. Some time around about 4pm Patrick stopped and unshackled my ankles. He let me up and I turned and leaned over to suck his majestic cock again thinking he had once more reached the point of insatiability. He was more than a little aroused judging by the bulge once more easily visible in his pants, but satiation had not been his intent.
“Tickle boy, do you recall that daytime is playtime?”
“Yes Master.”
“And have you had fun?”
“Yes Master, soooo much fun! I love it when you tickle my feet! Especially when you hold my toes in your mouth and then do that tweaking thing with your fingers on my arches…” Patrick waved a hand to cut me off.
“Do you recall that the evening is reserved for torture?” The word gave me an instant thrill.
“Yes master.”
“You should prepare yourself. Let’s go downstairs. Come.”
I followed him down not to the basement as I thought, but to the ground floor sitting room.
“Strip.”
I complied immediately and stripped every stitch of clothing off to stand naked and vulnerable before him.
“Put these on.”
He instructed handing me leather wrist and ankle cuffs. They were the sort which could all be fastened together in a cross to form a hogtie. I sat down on the couch and fit each cuff snug onto my wrists and ankles. Patrick looked at his watch. Then, once I had put on my cuffs, he came over, man-handled me onto my belly and completed the hogtie by clipping the cuffs to each other.
“Yes. That will do nicely as their first look at you as they walk in.”
“Excuse me Master?”
“We are expecting guests tickle boy. I will be showing you off to a good friend of mine and his lee this evening. I have invited him to come over and use you for your ticklish body tickle-boy. His name is Ron and his lee is Anthony. The three of us will be enjoying an evening of sadistic tickle torture at your expense. They will tickle you but nothing more unless you consent to me that I can let them. I can vouch for them and for your safety if you do consent. They are very eager to meet my new toy. How do feel about that tickle boy?”
I was lost for words. I was definitely excited though. I had never been gang tickled in my life.
“I… I’m going to be gang tickled?”
“Yes tickle boy. And my friend is every bit the foot fetishist that I am. Imagine that. Two insatiable tickle torturers tickling your feet at once. Perhaps even three if Anthony is feeling mischievous.” He could tell that the thought excited me. “And who knows, as the night draws on we may well strap Anthony down and you can try your own hand as a tickler. Anthony is twenty-four and has very beautiful ticklish feet. Would you like that Tickle boy?”
“Yes Master, very much!” I was genuinely curious as to what these multiple experienced and devilish ticklers might have in store. “Would it please you if I consented to whatever they wanted to do to me?”
“Yes Tickle-boy, it would, but you are not obliged.”
“You may tell them I consent Master. The three of you may do anything you want to me!”
“Mmmm, tickle boy you are just the sweetest. You are in for quite an evening.”
Patrick sat down on the long cream leather couch behind me with my hogtied toes in his face and began sucking and licking at them. My semi loose feet twitched and wiggled and my toes popped out of his slurping mouth comically a few times as I reflexively withdrew with a sqeak. He continued lightly licking and mouthing them, allowing them to move a little, obviously entertained by it.
After a few minutes of teasing my hogtied feet, the doorbell rang and Patrick got up and answered it. I was alone in the room for a little while. I was excited. Despite my extreme ticklishness I found myself looking forward to being gang tickled. I was addicted to the energy I brought out in Patrick, the lust for my ticklish body radiating out of him, personified in his seemingly ever-erect and intimidatingly large cock. To have that doubled, possibly tripled… to have a brand new tickle hungry Dom eyeing my feet lasciviously… Oh yes. I was excited.
I heard footsteps and I craned my head up to watch Patrick sweep into the room, still wearing nothing but his unfastened luxurious bath robe and slippers, his immense cock fully erect and fully exposed. That this was how he had answered the door took me a little by surprise but spoke volumes to me about his guests. Behind him came two men arm in arm. On the left was a short but powerfully built man. He was entirely bald, heavily tanned and obviously no stranger to the gym judging by his physique. He wore jeans and a crisp lilac shirt which barely contained his pecs. I assumed this was Ron. On Ron’s arm was his physical opposite; a tall young waif-like pale skinned boy who I took to be Anthony. Anthony wore his shoulder length blonde hair in two bunches either side of his head, black PVC cropped trousers and a faux fur coat over his bare pale chest. He wore large platform patent leather shoes without socks. He also appeared to be wearing purple lipstick on his wryly smiling lips, from which he removed a lollipop as he saw me. Ron looked at me and smiled a hungry, predatory smile.
“Ron, Anthony, this is Tickle-Boy. Tickle-Boy these are my friends Ron and Anthony.”
“Oh Pat, he’s delicious!” said Anthony, detaching himself from his Master’s arm and delicately sitting his small butt on the arm of my couch. His mannerisms were very overtly ‘fem’ and I wondered if perhaps this was how Patrick wanted me to behave, if perhaps I had a lot to learn as a tickle slave.
“Fuck yes, Pat. I definitely approve.” said Ron in a gruff but eloquent London accent. “We were worried you’d get your hopes up and get no-showed again weren’t we sweets?” Anthony nodded.
“Well rest assured Ron, I have finally found my lee just as you have found yours and tonight we will enjoy them in tandem my good friend.”
“His feet are perfect!” gushed Anthony. “I can’t wait to hear what his giggles sound like!”
Patrick and his guests stood around me examining my naked hogtied body for a good while, comparing notes and planning the evening’s leisure activities.
“Where are my manners?” asked Patrick. “Let’s get you boys a drink.”
“Scotch, thanks Pat.” Said Ron.
“Martini please Pat,” said Anthony. “Does he like to suck toes?” Pat paused on his way to the kitchen to consider Anthony’s question.
“I’m honestly not sure. I think he likes to suck girl’s toes, or at least he did before he discovered his true purpose. Is that right Tickle-Boy? You’re a sissy straight boy aren’t you?”
“Yes Master.” I replied. Anthony sat up and placed palms flat on his knee. “Can I make him suck my toes please Pat? Pleeeeease? Pretty please?”
“Yes, of course! I’ll get the drinks and join you in a minute.”
Anthony gave a little squeal of excitement and clapped his hands. Then, maintaining naughty and suggestive eye contact with his Master, he quickly flipped off his Dr Marten’s exposing his pale slender bare feet. Ron smiled and stroked the outline of his own hard cock through his jeans.
Anthony’s feet were even more feminine than mine. They looked buttery soft. They were big, perhaps the same size as mine, maybe a little bigger. They were pale and cute with soft little toes painted dark purple, slightly shorter and chubbier than I expected given his slender frame. They looked like girl feet and were as pretty as any I had ever seen on a girl. I did feel my cock throb as I saw them and I had no objection to sucking those beautiful toes. Anthony folded one leg and extended the other, offering the toes for me to suck. Struggling a little against my hogties, I shuffled into a better position and began slurping and sucking on Anthony’s toes. They were delicious; just a little sweaty from being inside his clumpy patent leather platforms. He raised his hands to his mouth and began to giggle and whimper softly into them as my tongue explored his toes.
“Are you trying to get a rise out of me already sweets?” asked Ron, still stroking his cock through his jeans. “You’re going to get yourself into trouble.” Anthony winked at him and continued feeding me his toes.
Patrick came back in with a tray of drinks and placed them on the table. Then he walked over to the couch and swept me up in his arms.
“Shall we?”
Anthony slipped back into his shoes and he and Ron collected their drinks and followed.
I was taken down into the basement again; the scene of so much delicious tickle torture, and Patrick placed me on the bondage table with my cock through the opening he had designed for it. He switched on his camera equipment and set about removing the hogties and instead immobilising me even tighter in the snug confines of the bondage table’s cuffs, stocks and shackles. Ron and Anthony kissed passionately and enjoyed their drinks. This time Patrick adjusted the ankle stocks so that my feet were separated in the outer holes. Anthony walked over while I was being locked into the restraints and began walking two fingers over my lower back and my bare buns, causing me to laugh silently and clench my cheeks. Just in my field of view, I saw Ron strip off his clothes, visible to my massage table vantage point only from the knees down. Once he was fully naked, he walked closer and squatted his muscular body down. His cock was only a shade smaller than Patrick’s and it pointed up at me with intent. He leaned under the table and whispered in my ear.
“We’re going to tickle you good sissy boy.”
Then he stood up and gently slapped his cock against my cheeks a few times leaving a little string of pre cum as he departed.
After the short and efficient efforts of Patrick, I was once again immobilised and ready for whatever they had in store. Anthony plopped down on the couch opposite me, just visible to me if I craned my head up as far as I could see. He blew me a kiss, slipped his shoes off again and rolled onto his belly to lie in ‘the pose’ with his beautiful feet waving around playfully. The red light lit up on the camera. I heard Ron and Pat take their stools at my feet and the scent of Pat’s cigar smoke wafted over.
Unbeknownst to me Ron and Pat had selected two feathers each, one for each hand tickling my feet, two per foot. As quickly as Patrick had worked to fasten me into the bondage table, the anticipation still had more than enough time to build in my mind. I could feel my feet getting more sensitive as I lay there knowing what was coming, feeling their gaze on my tender bare soles. Just before the torture began, I concentrated and explored in my mind the power I held to use my attractive bound bare feet to harden those two huge cocks behind me. Physically, I was wholly in their power to use me and tickle torture me as they saw fit, but my young body gave me the power to drive these men into animal lust. I slowly and gently spread and wiggled the eight untied toes on each foot as a little amuse-bouche to tempt them. I couldn’t see either of them, but I knew that both men were inflamed by my bare feet and I explored that, knowing full well it would likely land me in even greater tickle-peril.
“well look at these wiggly toes… Looks like someone wants to get tickled,” said Ron. “Ready Pat?”
“Bon-apetit Ron.”
My face was already screwed up into a pre-emptive grin before they started.
Ron and Pat’s feathers joined the fray precisely in tandem. I squealed and yelled out a series of loud “OH”s before the giggles poured fourth, surprising even myself at precisely what noises came out of me unbidden when my feet were tickled. Each foot was treated to long slow drags of the feathers up and down alternately in predictable but torturous languorous strokes from heel to toes taking in the full length of my creamy white arches. They had practised this. They had a plan. Patrick’s left feather would reach my toes just as the right flicked off my heel, and Ron the same. My giggles sounded like a recording played back a few frames quicker than original footage. I looked up as I squirmed and giggled and made eye contact with Anthony across from me on the couch. He winked at me and reached a hand down his pants to stroke himself.
Patrick was his usual genial self but I could hear Ron’s aggressive grunts and curse words, uttered partly to me but mainly for his own benefit.
“Ugh… Fuck! Fuck yeah! Wiggle those piggies for me! I’m gonna tickle you so bad boy, fuck yeah! Mmmm… Uugh… Fuck… Pretty fucking soles here pretty boy… Coochie fucking cooo!”
His enthusiastic ramblings served to tickle the inside of my mind as his feathers tickled my right foot methodically. Where Patrick could sometimes be understanding and considerate of my enjoyment (when not consumed in tickle-torture lust), Ron was a tickle-bully pure and simple.
I had no idea how long Patrick and Ron feather-tickled my feet for but Patrick outlasted Ron. Ron abandoned the feathers and began tickling my right sole with his fingers. He dove straight in for scratchy finger tickles and I heard his grunts pick up a notch as the character of the tickles on my right foot suddenly changed. My left continued to be feather tickled in light but devastatingly artful tickles while my right was full on scratch-tickle tortured. I was crying laughing, no longer able to look up at Anthony’s elfin form reclining on the couch. My whole body was racked with tortured laughter and my hard cock, swinging free below the table, bounced as I struggled. The torture applied to my right foot took on another element as Ron leaned in and began hungrily feasting on my toes, nibbling and sucking as he tickled my arch.
Ron’s fingernails and mouth continued their assault, his bullying words and grunts of pleasure now muffled by my toes, as I felt the torturously-light feathers stop tickling my left foot. I was kept squealing and pouring out giggles as Patrick massaged some lubricant, possibly oil but most likely butter, all over my left foot. He said something to Ron which I didn’t catch and Ron stopped. My giggles petered out into whimpers.
“Watch this Ron. I know exactly how to make him dance.”
Patrick began to drag a hairbrush over my raised and buttered left heel. I burst out into hysterics again and began to pray that the brush would not migrate further down into my even more yielding arch but of course, it did. Ron emitted a chuckle and then began buttering my right foot. He stuck with his fingernails while Pat employed the hairbrush, but both men now began to suck the butter from my protesting toes.
Then after what seemed like a lifetime but was probably only ten minutes, Ron stopped and sat up.
“Ohhhh fuck Pat, this boy is a find! ANTHONY! It’s time.”
Ron stood up and walked over to Anthony on the couch. Anthony smiled and rearranged himself as He knew his Master wanted him. He climbed up from ‘the pose’ and sat back as Ron sat down. He waited for his Master’s word.
“Feet,” said Ron forcefully.
Anthony immediately obliged, placed his bare soles on Ron’s cock and began to give him a foot job. Patrick began tickling both my feet now and Ron watched the tickle show as Anthony stroked him with those tasty toes I had been allowed to briefly taste earlier.
“…and mouth,” barked Ron.
Anthony, surprising me with his flexibility, leaned over. Keeping his toes wrapped around Ron’s cock shaft, he leaned in and began to suck the head urgently, his purple lip gloss leaving smears up and down the sides of Ron’s shaft. I cried with laughter, leaked generous dribbles of pre-cum onto the floor, endured Patrick’s expert tickle-torture on both of my buttered feet and watched as Ron grabbed both of Anthony’s bunches and fucked his face and toes to an angry roaring climax.
Patrick stopped tickling my feet.
Anthony lovingly licked and sucked up all of Ron’s load and cleaned his cock thoroughly. I watched in admiration and more than a little lust as Anthony’s pretty mouth licked and sucked Ron’s cock and his own toes. Then Patrick’s familiar engorged cock swung into my frame of view, mere inches from my face.
“Oh my God Pat!” said Ron. “We are so glad you found him! Aren’t we sweets? That’s a good boy. Clean Daddy’s cock. It’ll be your turn to suffer soon.”
“Tickle-boy? Are you ready?” asked Pat.
“Yes Sir…” I gasped, out of breath but genuinely looking forward to pleasing the cock I had made so hard and eager.
Patrick stepped forwards and I opened wide allowing him to push all the way into my mouth and right to the back of my throat. Patrick moaned in pleasure and slicked my mouth with his own salty pre-cum. I curled my toes, knowing he was staring at them, as his cock began to slowly and luxuriously slide back and forth exploring my mouth. I closed my eyes and worshipped its full length. Patrick luxuriated in my mouth for many minutes as my tongue and lips worked to please him. Then he withdrew without cumming and I immediately knew his intent.
“Boys, would you be so kind as to tickle his feet while I fuck him?”
“Sure Pat.”
Ron and Anthony eagerly hopped up and made their way around to the stools at my feet. The tickling began again in earnest and I squealed a series of shrill squeals before dissolving into panicked laughter as usual. Ron this time took my left foot and immediately dived into harsh fingernail tickling on my arches and nibbling teeth torture on my toes. Anthony took a more delicate approach and poked his tongue in between my toes while grazing his fingertips over my arches.
I wiggled and squirmed in my tight bonds but Patrick climbed up onto the table straddling me and quickly held my squirming butt down with his weight. He smeared a generous dollop of butter into my butt crack, greased his cock and then drove it slowly but inexorably inside me.
My moan of pleasure, pain and surprise managed to voice itself over my giggles and Patrick’s cock descended to the hilt into the hot silky-smooth confines of my sissy tickle boy butt. Once again, I was his. The feeling of fullness his thick cock imparted made me feel fully owned, even as the tickles continued to torture my bare feet. I laughed and moaned gratefully as Patrick’s cock slowly fucked me to its final satisfaction. Moaning loudly, Patrick pumped my ass full of hot pent-up cum. The foot tickling continued until Patrick waved it off.
“Thank you boys. That is a very good start to the evening’s festivities, wouldn’t you say Ron?”
“You throw the best parties Pat.”
Patrick withdrew from me and climbed down to go wash himself in the sink. Ron joined him and the two conversed about how delicious I was, their plans for me, and about some business matter I didn’t understand. That left me, foot tickled to tears, mouth fucked, ass fucked and still strapped down, a used tickle toy exactly where I deserved to be. It also left Anthony at a loose end. Anthony was apparently feeling mischievous and had not yet cum.
He walked around to where my face lay in the massage table hole, flushed and smeared with pre-cum and drool. He sat down cross legged before me and smiled at me. Then he uncurled his long legs and raised one foot to my mouth. I was elated to have another chance to suck his delicious toes and did so without hesitation. Anthony closed his eyes and smiled, stroking his extended leg with his other foot. After a short while, the stroking foot stroked all the way down and into my mouth and he swapped feet. He enjoyed getting his toes sucked for a while then lay back and presented both soles stretched flat for me to lick while he massaged my face with them.
“Sir? May I?” asked Anthony, shouting over to Ron and Pat.
“Sure. Make sure it’s still recording,” said Pat.
Anthony stood up and checked the camera. Then he walked off down the side of the table towards my feet, tickling my armpit and butt with his fingers again as he passed. He arrived at my feet and began tickling them with his slender dextrous fingers, taking the time to tickle in between and under my toes. He tickled over my heels and up my calves, then walked back up the other side tickling my bare buns again. There he stopped, crouched down and looked under at my poor rock hard neglected cock. I heard him shuffle under the table. I gasped in surprise as he took my cock into his mouth and began to apply to me to the same exquisite delight he had just treated his Master to.
I gave no thought to the noises I emitted, pure undisguised pleasure, nor to the camera still rolling, capturing every moment. I came quickly in his skilled mouth. He milked the last drops out of me with his hand. Pleased with himself, he wiped his lips and stood up. He strolled back around to my face. He unbuckled his leather trousers and slipped them down to reveal his modest but perfectly formed cock, entirely shaven smooth. He politely pushed it against my lips and I happily returned the favour, sucking him enthusiastically. He reached a hand around to his own butt and inserted a finger, massaging his prostate as he started to cum into my mouth, gasping with breathy gasps of pleasure. Just as I would with Patrick, or indeed Ron, I made every effort to swallow every drop. I could look down and see his painted toes on the floor, curling as he came. He finished with an adorable little descending squeal of approval and slipped out from between my lips. He squatted down and kissed me, then backed away with a wink.
The night was young.
