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. Man, 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 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 started at my tone and the pejorative, but 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?"

"Y-yeah."

"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?"

"Y-yeah."

"Go on, then."

But again I pulled it back. Heh-heh.

"P-please."

"Please, what?" I asked, arching my foot.

"Please, I really want your foot."

I teased him for awhile 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; size 11 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. 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 tootsies 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.

"Hey--"

"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.

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 tootsies 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 comb up and down. 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 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."

"But..."

"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."

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. I even have to lick his feet now. Oh, shit, here he comes. He's got a huge, stiff feather and is wearing that evil grin. Now I know why he tied my legs so far apart. Oh no, he's going to use that thing on my inner thighs. Oooh....

J.P.
j.j.porter@worldnet.att.net