Thursday, March 31, 2011

Don’s Foot Adventures

Don was playing with his friends, John and Sam, in a huge sand pile in a housing development one Saturday morning. Someone was finally building a bunch of tract homes on a vacant lot that had stood for a few years. The boys were scooping sand, tunneling into the soft, gritty substance and just running their fingers in the coolness of the sand on what promised to be a warm day. All of them were beautiful young men, fraternity brothers. They had discovered this construction site and decided to be like children and play in the sand. Don was the prettiest of them all, though. Blond with blue eyes, stereotypically handsome even at his young age, he hadn’t completely filled out, and was still kind of skinny, which made his feet seem kind of on the long side. Not necessarily tall, but not short he was apretty little guy, but dumb, and it was easy to convince Don to do things most people probably wouldn’t do so readily. At the same time, he was the kind of guy who could be up for most anything.

John and Sam had hatched the scheme to bury Don in the sand, since there was more than enough of it. Don said okay, and he lay down while John and Sam began scooping sand over him. It kind of reminded him of playing in the sand at schoolyards and the beach. When they were done only Don’s head and feet were sticking out of the sand. He kind of struggled, but he could only move about an eighth of an inch, but it was cool in the sand, and he knew that if his friends would let him out, eventually he wiggle his way out of it. All of a sudden he felt someone untying one of his shoes, then someone untying the other one.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We’re helping you out. We’re going to empty the sand out of your tennies for you,” John said, kind of giggling as he said it.

“We’ll even help you even more by emptying it of out your socks,” said Sam, with the same kind of suppressed giggle.

The shoes came off, and the boys dutifully shook the sand out of them and placed on the ground. Then, they took off Don’s socks, which were also full of sand, shook them out, and rolled them up and placed in the shoes. As soon as they did this, the proceeded to each take a foot and brush the sand off Don’s bare feet and toes. It kind of tickled, because he flinched his feet and wiggled and curled up his toes. John and Sam laughed at this. He felt fingers touching and just kind of holding his toes, as if someone were looking at and inspecting them.

“Wow, your toes are really long!” Sam said.

He felt another set of hands doing the same thing to his other foot. It felt kind of good, and so he just let them play with his toes. He felt fingers massaging between his toes, and he breathed a sigh of pleasure at the intense sensations of it all. Don did have long toes, with his second toes being longer than his big toes, and his other toes in perfect proportion to them. Even at his age his feet were quite beautiful, with attractive, sculpted ankles and exquisitely chiseled insteps. Don’s soles were soft and smooth, and quite sensitive to the touch.

Then he felt a very light stroke on his left foot, beginning at the heel, going along his instep and up under those sensitive toes. Don tried to pull his foot away, and he curled his toes in defense. At the same an intense giggle came unannounced out of his mouth. His toes trembled and curled and spread involuntarily from the sensations it caused, and that was only one finger. And, he did that catch your breath kind of laugh as he recovered. It didn’t last long.

“Hey Sam,” John said with an evil grin and a wink, “let’s find out how ticklish he is.”

“Okay.” Wink!

“Please don’t tickle my feet. It makes me crazy. My feet are real ticklish.” Don was pleading, while curling his toes so tight they were going white from lack of blood.

John and Sam then took both their, and ran their fingers lightly up Don’s helpless feet, from the heel, across his and along the whole width of his bare sole and instep and ended up wiggling the ten fingers under those pretty toes, and up and around the tips. Then they worked their way back down, and continued this.

Don’s feet convulsed uncontrollably, and his toes jerked and alternatively spread, flexed, curled and just wiggled with intense motion to avoid the tortuous onslaught of those intrepid, tickling fingers. From the outset he had laughed with total hysteria, almost like a madman, giggling and laughing and shaking his head and trying with all of his strength to rip out of the sand. Tickling sapped his strength, and he was finding it harder and harder to keep struggling while he expended his strength in laughing. He was lost in the intense sensations that were working across his exposed feet. John and Sam were laughing almost as hard as Don, and they were getting a little excited themselves at the touch and reaction of this perfect of pair of bare feet at their tickling mercy.

John and Sam were tickling not only the soles of his feet, but they found that Don’s feet were ticklish on top as well, and were working both sides of his feet and toes with their hands. Don was beside himself with laughter, and was only aware of the fireworks in his brain, and the electricity on his feet. While it seemed like it lasted forever, and would never stop, all of a sudden John and Sam stopped tickling Don’s feet, and started to kind of massage them, gently working their fingers between those sexy toes and rubbing his insteps with their thumbs. Don was still in the throws of bursts of laughter as he came back down and was aware of his surroundings, and eventually his shallow breathing started to become even as he let slip a little moan at the pleasure he was receiving at the tips of his toes.

They unburied Don, and allowed him to replace his shoes and socks. They hung out for a little longer and then took of for other adventures. It was a few days later when they found themselves back together wandering the development. It had been raining, and the sand pile was too wet, which Don said was too bad with mock sarcasm, and John and Sam laughed. They had actually thought they play the sand again, promising Don that they wouldn’t bury him. As if they would keep the promise.

“You know, that was a lot of fun,” John said with a hint of enthusiasm. “It may sound kind of weird, but Don has really nice feet. I liked his toes.”

“Please don’t talk about my toes.” Don blushed as he said this.

“You embarrassed him,” Sam said, “but John’s right, you really do have nice toes.” He cast a glance at Don, who was turning redder and glaring at him.

“Let’s go back to the house and see what we can find to do.” John was already on the way home, with the other two following behind. Sam caught up with John by running a little, and they talked, kind of low, and then Don caught up and they shut up. They got back to the house and took off their muddy shoes and went up the room John and San shared. When they got their John and Sam suggested that Don should take off his socks since they were wet too. Of course, Don did it without so much as thinking, and sitting on the bed he took off his wet socks. Holding his socks, he looked up to see John and Sam both staring at his bare feet.

“I’ve heard that if you’re ticklish, the more you’re tickled, the less ticklish you become,” John said, in a clinical kind of way.

“Really?” asked Sam. “We should set up an experiment to see if that’s true. With those pretty feet, and being as how he’s so ticklish, Don would be a pleasure to be out victim, I mean subject.”

Don felt his toes curl in defense of being attacked. “Come on guys. Please don’t do this to me. It makes me crazy. I mean, it gave me a hard on and I almost came.”

“Well, I’m sure you had fun. You were certainly laughing, and laughing usually means someone was having fun. I know we did.” John was trying to stifle a laugh as he talked remembering how crazy Don while they tortured his feet.

John and Sam were a little bigger than Don, and between the two of them, they stretched him out on the bed. John produced some rope from a dresser.

“We’re going to have to tie you down so we can have scientific control.”

Don said okay, and as usual, he was going to let them tickle him. Secretly he kind of enjoyed it, but there was a point to it for him. John and Sam tied him kind of spread eagle on the bed, with his hand above his head, and his feet lashed to the foot of the bed. To test the ropes, John unbuttoned Don’s shirt and started to work his fingers gently along Don’s nipples and up into his armpits. Don convulsed with laughter, and giggled with complete abandon and he couldn’t for a word if he tried. It was as if the sensations touched his dick instantaneously as it become rigid. He couldn’t talk he was laughing so hard, trying to draw breath. He was all of sudden bucking against the ropes and John astride his chest as he was literally screaming with laughter. Sam was tickling his foot with both hands, and working the same way he did the other day. Although, he was especially attentive to the toes, which explained Don’s screaming. Don couldn’t even think to beg them to stop, and of course it went on as John played with his nipples, and Sam expertly tickled all over his long toes, around and in between, and Don tried frantically to get his toes away, to no avail.

After about fifteen minutes of this, they stopped, and it took about five minutes for Don to catch his breath and stop laughing. Don was lying there waiting for them to untie him, as John moved to join Sam at those exquisite feet. All of a sudden Don felt the intense pleasure of those hands massaging his feet, and working with gentle force on his sensitive toes. He enjoyed this, and strained against the ropes in rapturous pleasure at the sensations. Then he felt something on both his feet that was kind of warm, and kind of wet, and kind of tickled, and made both this feet tense up and his toes curls tight. He felt it all over his feet, and the new sensation covered the soles of his feet and the tips of his toes, and he kind of giggled in a throaty, sexual way, and moaned with delight.

“Oh my God!” he sighed, “What are you doing to my feet?”

“We’re going to kiss and lick your feet and suck on your toes.” John returned to passionately and wetly kissing Don’s foot, as Sam had never quit. It went on, and Don was glad of that, as he was enjoying it immensely. It changed abruptly, as he felt something wet and warm and slippery run from his heels and all over his soles and run in between his toes. He started to buck against the ropes and emitted that throaty, sexual laugh, with alternate moans, and bouts of intense effort to catch his breath. John and Sam licked his feet until they were slippery and wet with saliva and Don was worked into convulsive laughter and writhing and squirming and straining against the restraints. He toes were working furiously, as they curled, and flexed, and as he spread them, opening them up for swift attack of a wet tongue.

Don was going such intense sensations erupting all over every square inch of his helpless feet. His mind was almost blank except for him hearing himself laughing like a complete idiot, unable to form speech. As their tongues worked their wet, slimy way all over his feet, he couldn’t believe the noises he was emitting. He never knew he had that crazy laugh, or that his both could go so low in the throws of sexual stimulation, or that he could growl like a beast.

John and Sam were into it and enjoying it immensely as they both became hard as marble, and hoped Don was doing the same. They were having a blast making Don make the noises he was making, especially when they found a spot that make him have to decide between laughing, groaning, moaning, or growling. After about a half hour of working on Don’s perfectly ticklish and sensitive feet, they quit and returned to kissing his feet gently as Don began to relax and come back down to earth. They massaged his feet, and played with his spent toes.

He was feeling normal again, when Don felt what felt like a mouth engulf his little toes. John and Sam were sucking on his toes. He never felt anything like that in his life. His breath caught, and he started breathing long and slow, and pretty soon he was making those groaning noises again, with little giggles of joy, as the tongues swirled around his little toes. Then they moved on to his other toes, sucking each in turn, and his toes wiggled and shook at the sensation, and they worked their way to sucking two and three toes at a time. They ran their tongues all around and in between Don’s toes, and felt them tremble and try to curl against the slick tongues that were relentless.

John reached up and stroked Don’s crotch, and remarked on how hard he was. He undid Don’s belt, and helped him move up a little so he could slide his pants down to his ankles, revealing perfectly beautiful, and completely hard, dick. It was about seven inches, a perfect size, and his balls were of a good size and they probably held a nice amount of come.

“What are you going to?” don asked as he was still moaning from the tongues on his toes.

John didn’t say anything as he started to stroke that dick and swollen balls. Don just moaned and groaned and slid his dick in and out of that delightful stroking. Just as he was really getting into it, and felt he might come and get blessed relief, John started tickling his balls. Don started to buck and strained and laughed uncontrollably as his balls felt as if they would explode from the light touch. John stopped that, and moved to take that hard into his mouth. He sucked it expertly while Sam sucked on toes, and Don started to get louder and louder and he screamed with delight at what was about to shoot from his. He was bucking and moaning and laughing, and all of sudden started screaming that he was coming.

John stopped sucking and started stroking his dick slowly and with purpose as Don continued getting louder and bucking as the come came to the surface. He screamed and laughed and yelled “I’m coming” as he shot incredibly high, high enough to reach John’s mouth with a drop. John stroked his now hypersensitive dick until Don begged him to stop. Sam took his mouth off his delightfully long toes, and got a towel to clean up Don.

They untied Don, and he rolled over and promptly passed out.

He woke a few hours later, and found that John was there, and was massaging his feet and playing his toes.

“We’ll have to get together again and see if you’re less ticklish than you were today.”

“Oh my God, not too soon.” Don was begging.

“No, not too soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Well, as long as you lick my feet and make me come, maybe I could have the strength for tomorrow.”

“We’ll lick your feet.” We were thinking that we might milk you two or three times.

“Oh God!” Don thought, but knew they would do it.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

First Interrogation with Tickling as Persuasion

When I was in Sixth Grade, turning 12, we moved to different neighborhood in San Jose. There were a few boys there around my age, and we all went to the same school. Being boys, we ran around, rode our bikes, wrestled around, and sometimes chose up sides to play some kind of combat soldier game. Pretending to shoot each other, being “shot” and having to count to a certain number to be alive again. The goal was to “kill” off all of the other team, and you won. Then, we either played again, chose up new teams and played again, or stopped because we were bored and went onto something else.

One time, one of our group decided that instead of playing to “kill” each other, we should have something to hide, that way, one team could defend it, and the other could find it. Once found, we would switch and the finder would hide it, and the other team would have to find it. It actually worked out pretty well. Instead of having to count when “shot” you were captured. Having everyone captured was another way of winning. This way of playing went on a little longer and was a little less boring.

The second time we played, my team was the one to have to find it, and we had captured someone. We left him in someone’s garage, our fort and center of operations, with a guard, and the rest of us went to search for the object or someone else to capture. We returned with another captive, and in our absence our guard, Greg, had proceeded to tie up our first captive, using one of the exposed pipes to lash his legs together and anchored to something so he couldn’t stand up. As we arrived he had one shoe and sock off, and was removing the other so he had Ricky completely barefoot, who was complaining and whining about not wanting to be barefoot. He had kind of long feet, narrow, and long toes, kind of pretty. Greg started stroking his soles, both feet, up to his toes, which were wiggling frantically by the time his fingers reached them, and he laughing hysterically, not even being able to protest the sublime torture. Greg worked his toes, giggling the whole time, because he thought it was funny that Ricky was laughing so hard, and he was getting off on how crazy his toes were moving. Then, he did something I didn’t think I’d see again, he started licking Ricky’s toes. It was a good thing he had tied him down good. Ricky started to laugh harder and harder, and bucked pretty hard. Greg just lickked his toes, around and in between, on the tops and on the bottom, and just kept swirling his tongue all around his defenseless toes. Then, he started licking his feet, one after the other, from the heel, up the sole, and ending up between his toes. Poor Ricky was a hysterical wreck. Finally Greg asked where the object was, and it took Ricky a few minutes to respond. He told us. We thought Greg would untie Ricky and let him go, but when we came back, he was still tickling Ricky’s poor helpless feet, and licking his now very wet toes. He didn’t to have the strength to move, but he was still laughing, although he did seem hoarse. So we made Greg stop and untie Ricky and give him back his shoes and socks.

We hid the object and started up play again. This time they captured me, and because of what had happened to Ricky, they tied me up and took off my shoes and socks. I made up my mind that I wouldn’t talk. Sure enough, instead of just one, Ricky enlisted another of our group, and they decided to take off my shoes and socks. They started right in tickling my feet. They did just what Greg did, stroking my soles and toes, and all over my bare feet. I was laughing as hard as Ricky, if not harder, and they just kept on tickling. They also thought it was funny, and just kept going. They never asked me any questions, they were just tickling the hell out of my feet like they were torturing a captive. Then, they started licking my feet, just like Greg, from heel to toes, and around and in between my toes. Sometimes they would lick my toes, and sometimes they would lick my soles, and sometimes together. Giving me a slight break, they asked where the object was hidden, but I wouldn’t talk. Now, one of them started to tickle my armpits, and chest, under my t-shirt, and Ricky just kept licking one foot, while he stroked the other foot. I don’t how long it went on, when the guy on my armpits, ran his hand down to my crotch, and started feeling around in there and tickling my dick and balls through my pants. I went absolutely crazy, which made them get a little more into it. Eventually I came in my pants, and this only made the tickling wilder and wilder. Eventually some mom heard me and made them untie me.

Needless to say, the two years I lived there, there was a good deal of tickle fun. A couple of these guys were total tickle and foot fetishists at that young age. There are more stories to come.

And, remember, tickling is very safe sex.  Just see how hard your next guy gets when you suck his toes.