bigmac_nv
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2008
- Messages
- 113
- Points
- 18
Tricked, tied and tickled by my new boss
The story title says it all. I was the new IT specialist in a large IT department that was run by Rick, a 49 year old, 6'4, 240 pounds gruff looking but commanding presence in the shop. I'm 29 years old, single straight, 5'11, 160 pounds with a quiet demeanor. I'm kind of geeky, enjoying video games mostly, but also like to watch college football. My boss Rick was divorced and had 3 grown kids and as I found out later, a guy who likes to play with guys and gals.
I worked there for about 6 weeks, when Rick invited be get some drinks after working a Saturday shift fixing some issues with our servers. I agreed since it seemed like the thing to do and I had no plans, so figured I would get some one on one time with the boss. We met up at a local bar had a few drinks and found out that Rick was pretty easy going, always telling jokes and lots of stories of his past made him that much more interesting. It was getting to dinner time when he suggested we go to his house and put a couple of steaks on the grill. The way he asked made it impossible for me to say no, so I followed him home. We cooked some steaks and enjoyed a few more beers as the night was winding down I was pretty tipsy and Rick said I should just hang out for a while and I agreed, which turned out to be my downfall. When I came back from the bathroom I noticed a strange looking jacket hanging on the guest room closet door. I asked Rick about it and he smiled saying it was an old straight jacket that he used to play with back when he was into escape tricks. I was intrigued and he asked me, "You ever try one of those things on? It's pretty cool. I was tipsy, and not thinking straight, when I answered, "It is? That might be cool to try out." Rick came back with the straight jacket which was the old fashion type with buckles to adjust the tightness. He had me take off my sweater so I was only wearing my t-shirt, jeans and still wearing my black boots. It was strange as I pushed my arms into the sleeves, with Rick smiling as he wrapped me snuggly into the thick, heavy jacket. It was instantly confining, making me feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon, with no chance for my arms to move at all. My arms were snug, but tightly wrapped around my body, crossed in front of me with my hands secured to my sides. I wiggle and tried to move my arms, but with the jacket snaps in place and the buckles secured from my waist to my neck I was trapped. He stood in front of me, "How does it feel?" he asked. It is snug, dang, so confining, how you could ever get free from this I asked dumbly. He smiled and said, “You don't.”
Rick, pushed me onto the recliner, then produced a thick Velcro strap that without asking he secured over and under my upper thighs, just above my knees, synching it tight as I started to protest. What's this Rick? What are you doing? He was matter of fact; I'm getting you tied nice and tight so you can barely wiggle. I babbled something but he quickly used another Velcro strap to bind my ankles together securing it over the bottom of my jeans as my feet wiggled.
He grabbed his beer took a swig, then secured my bound feet to the bottom of the recliner, then reclined me even more in the recliner that I was almost flat, but inclined enough to see his smiling face organize a small box of gadgets on the coffee table. What are you doing as I attempted to struggle free, but I was tied tight, no wiggle room. It was weird, I was tied tight, but it was enough that I was not uncomfortable. He could tell I was getting scared so he told me what was going to happen. Don't worry Marty, I'm not going to hurt you, but I am going to tickle your bare feet until the cows come home. Just hearing those words; tickle your bare feet got me wiggling like mad; hoping for an instant that I could really break free. Rick smiled as he sat back watching my reaction as I struggled and babbled for him not to tickle me.
He started to teasingly question me. "Are your feet ticklish Marty?" "What about your toes? Sensitive?" He was in no rush with me bound helpless. Rick swigging his beer as my black booted feet wiggled a bit as I wondered how badly it would be. The worst part is when Rick got up to grab a few more things, his cock was obviously rock-hard as his jeans barely contained he massive cock. This made we even more nervous, anticipating what was about to happen.
I was 12 years old when a new family moved in down the street. Two brothers age 14 and 13 with a younger sister who was 11 became my friends that summer. Near the end of the summer we were playing hide and seek as the sun went down and I found myself hiding with Carol in a bedroom closet filled with old clothes bags. I told her it would be better if we got under the bags. Well Carol piled some clothes bags on me and trapped me where only my feet were exposed. Well when her brothers found us, they pulled off my sneakers and socks and tickled me as I laughed until I cried. They were relentless running their fingers under my toes and taking a comb and raking it up and down my soles. It lasted 10 minutes but the memories have made tickling my biggest fear.
Now realizing my new older boss was about to tickle my bound feet made me start to talk louder, even threatening to scream for help. That’s when Rick surprised me and stuffed a red ball gag in my mouth from behind. It was the kind with holes in the balls that allowed me to breath and have some sound, but snug in my mouth where everything was muted. He secured this behind my head as I mumbled some protest as he ignored me. He had a new look, confident, in-charge and even a bit of a sadistic - you are going to get it look. What size feet are we looking at her Marty? He slowly unlaced my right boot, taking the laces entirely out of the boot. My boot was loose as I wiggled my foot. He grabbed the boot off and took a big sniff of the inside of my boot. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm he moans smiling, looking at the tag, he smiles, size 11, I like that size. It was mesmerizing as I watched my 6'4 boss take in the aroma of my boot, even rubbing his crotch a bit. It was nice to have my boot off as my feet were really getting hot. He reached up under my jean leg and slowly worked the black sock I was wearing down my leg. The straps sort of held them in place, but he was patient working the sock down freeing it from the binding strap. His fingers tickled a bit as he worked the sock down over my heel. He stopped when my right heel was exposed. Nice heel he smiled, inspecting the heel. He ran his index finger lightly over my heel making me squirm as the sensation ran up my legs making me realize I was still as ticklish as I was when I was 12. He grabbed a soft stone and with a bit of baby oil on my heel, he scrubbed the exposed heel. I squealed and bucked, but I was tied tight as Rick scrubbed for a good minute. I felt like I would go crazy as I watched with amazement as my boss worked my foot. He was turned on. He was in a lustful daze himself as he pulled off my sock exposing the foot to an air conditioned room. I begged through my gag but it was useless as Rick used his fingers, some string, baby oil and a toothbrush to tickle me into submission. He tickled my foot for 30 minutes using a variety of techniques working every inch of the foot. I'm not sure what tickled worst, the soft string slowly pulled through my toes, or the baby oiled feet scrubbed with a small toothbrush working from my heel to the underside of my toes, but as he methodically worked the spots, my lung hurt, my mouth was dry and I thought I could actually die from being tickled.
Rick stopped the tickling and told me I needed a break as he opened up another cold beer. He actually gave me a beer with a straw and allowed me a couple of big sips of the cold beer which felt good to my dry mouth and throat. I started to plead with him, but he put up his finger making a shhhh sound as he worked the ball-gag back in my mouth. I was surprised that my cock was hard; pressing into my shorts and jeans I felt a weird sense of erotic comfort. I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me, but the unsure nature of what the end game for me was a turn on. After 10 minutes of rest, Rick setup what look like a mini work bench positioning a hair dryer in the vice grips pointing a couple of inches from my left foot where my boot was still tied in place. Are you curious Marty about my contraption? This hair dryer is going to heat up your left foot as I slowly apply baby oil to your foot. It will run for a while as I work the oil deeper into your bar foot; then when it is really sensitive, I will torment your ticklish foot until you pass out. Rick said this with a wry, confident smile, his eyes boring into my eyes reminding me how helpless I was. When the sock was ripped from my left foot - a light tickle scratch from heel to toe made me giggle like mad but tied so tight, I could barely move and resist the sensation. He poured baby oil into his hand and spread them on my left sole. He turned on the hair dryer and within 30 seconds, I could feel the intense heat as my foot scrunched and flexed trying to avoid the intense warming sensation. It didn't burn, but my foot moved wildly as much as it would allow as the consistent heat made me foot scream for relief. Rick slowly worked in some baby oil, really massaging the oil deep into my thick soles, occasionally working them under and around my toes. When I thought the heat was too much, he seemed to sense it and grabbed and ice cube from the cooler and work them over my foot, easing the heat but making it tickle that much more. He turned off the dryer after 10 minutes and without missing a beat, he picked up a little scrub brush and worked it slowly over my heel as I screamed like mad through my ball gag. He worked the brush in and around my feet for 5 minutes straight as tears rolled down my cheeks. When he stopped I was so exhausted, my breathing labored as I giggled uncontrollably. I must have passed out but hearing voices I woke up to see this pretty middle aged blonde standing next to me, with a wry smile herself. She was talking to Rick asking how long I was being tickled. Their conversation casual, making we wonder how many other victims she watched get tormented.
I was begging in my gag as she brushed my hair back. Oh don't worry sweetie she whispered, he is almost done with your sexy feet. My cock was raging as Rick worked his fingers over my soles and toes. His girlfriend Becky scratched my cock lightly as I realized she was working me into a lustful erotic bliss. It took a couple of minutes, but my hips rocked as her fingers found the spot on the underside of my shaft and my body convulsed into spasms as I shot a load into my shorts. They laughed and even had a little make out session as Becky rubbed his hard cock.
OK Marty, your time is up. I'm going to let you go now and you are going to be a good little boy and massage my feet for 15 minutes, then you will leave, got it? I was humbled and beaten as I sat on my knees and worked Rick's big size 14s listening to his commands on how and where to massage his feet. He told me to never speak of this, and if I went to the police, he would have Becky back up his story of a playful threesome between all of them. I was humiliated and beaten so I quickly agreed and left. He never spoke of it, or ever made reference of my torture at work or when we were alone, but I still could feel his unspoken power over me. I actually find myself thinking back at the torture surprised how aroused I get when I reflect on the tickle torture. Maybe I should stop over Rick's one night and say hi?
Feel free to send comments to [email protected]
The story title says it all. I was the new IT specialist in a large IT department that was run by Rick, a 49 year old, 6'4, 240 pounds gruff looking but commanding presence in the shop. I'm 29 years old, single straight, 5'11, 160 pounds with a quiet demeanor. I'm kind of geeky, enjoying video games mostly, but also like to watch college football. My boss Rick was divorced and had 3 grown kids and as I found out later, a guy who likes to play with guys and gals.
I worked there for about 6 weeks, when Rick invited be get some drinks after working a Saturday shift fixing some issues with our servers. I agreed since it seemed like the thing to do and I had no plans, so figured I would get some one on one time with the boss. We met up at a local bar had a few drinks and found out that Rick was pretty easy going, always telling jokes and lots of stories of his past made him that much more interesting. It was getting to dinner time when he suggested we go to his house and put a couple of steaks on the grill. The way he asked made it impossible for me to say no, so I followed him home. We cooked some steaks and enjoyed a few more beers as the night was winding down I was pretty tipsy and Rick said I should just hang out for a while and I agreed, which turned out to be my downfall. When I came back from the bathroom I noticed a strange looking jacket hanging on the guest room closet door. I asked Rick about it and he smiled saying it was an old straight jacket that he used to play with back when he was into escape tricks. I was intrigued and he asked me, "You ever try one of those things on? It's pretty cool. I was tipsy, and not thinking straight, when I answered, "It is? That might be cool to try out." Rick came back with the straight jacket which was the old fashion type with buckles to adjust the tightness. He had me take off my sweater so I was only wearing my t-shirt, jeans and still wearing my black boots. It was strange as I pushed my arms into the sleeves, with Rick smiling as he wrapped me snuggly into the thick, heavy jacket. It was instantly confining, making me feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon, with no chance for my arms to move at all. My arms were snug, but tightly wrapped around my body, crossed in front of me with my hands secured to my sides. I wiggle and tried to move my arms, but with the jacket snaps in place and the buckles secured from my waist to my neck I was trapped. He stood in front of me, "How does it feel?" he asked. It is snug, dang, so confining, how you could ever get free from this I asked dumbly. He smiled and said, “You don't.”
Rick, pushed me onto the recliner, then produced a thick Velcro strap that without asking he secured over and under my upper thighs, just above my knees, synching it tight as I started to protest. What's this Rick? What are you doing? He was matter of fact; I'm getting you tied nice and tight so you can barely wiggle. I babbled something but he quickly used another Velcro strap to bind my ankles together securing it over the bottom of my jeans as my feet wiggled.
He grabbed his beer took a swig, then secured my bound feet to the bottom of the recliner, then reclined me even more in the recliner that I was almost flat, but inclined enough to see his smiling face organize a small box of gadgets on the coffee table. What are you doing as I attempted to struggle free, but I was tied tight, no wiggle room. It was weird, I was tied tight, but it was enough that I was not uncomfortable. He could tell I was getting scared so he told me what was going to happen. Don't worry Marty, I'm not going to hurt you, but I am going to tickle your bare feet until the cows come home. Just hearing those words; tickle your bare feet got me wiggling like mad; hoping for an instant that I could really break free. Rick smiled as he sat back watching my reaction as I struggled and babbled for him not to tickle me.
He started to teasingly question me. "Are your feet ticklish Marty?" "What about your toes? Sensitive?" He was in no rush with me bound helpless. Rick swigging his beer as my black booted feet wiggled a bit as I wondered how badly it would be. The worst part is when Rick got up to grab a few more things, his cock was obviously rock-hard as his jeans barely contained he massive cock. This made we even more nervous, anticipating what was about to happen.
I was 12 years old when a new family moved in down the street. Two brothers age 14 and 13 with a younger sister who was 11 became my friends that summer. Near the end of the summer we were playing hide and seek as the sun went down and I found myself hiding with Carol in a bedroom closet filled with old clothes bags. I told her it would be better if we got under the bags. Well Carol piled some clothes bags on me and trapped me where only my feet were exposed. Well when her brothers found us, they pulled off my sneakers and socks and tickled me as I laughed until I cried. They were relentless running their fingers under my toes and taking a comb and raking it up and down my soles. It lasted 10 minutes but the memories have made tickling my biggest fear.
Now realizing my new older boss was about to tickle my bound feet made me start to talk louder, even threatening to scream for help. That’s when Rick surprised me and stuffed a red ball gag in my mouth from behind. It was the kind with holes in the balls that allowed me to breath and have some sound, but snug in my mouth where everything was muted. He secured this behind my head as I mumbled some protest as he ignored me. He had a new look, confident, in-charge and even a bit of a sadistic - you are going to get it look. What size feet are we looking at her Marty? He slowly unlaced my right boot, taking the laces entirely out of the boot. My boot was loose as I wiggled my foot. He grabbed the boot off and took a big sniff of the inside of my boot. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm he moans smiling, looking at the tag, he smiles, size 11, I like that size. It was mesmerizing as I watched my 6'4 boss take in the aroma of my boot, even rubbing his crotch a bit. It was nice to have my boot off as my feet were really getting hot. He reached up under my jean leg and slowly worked the black sock I was wearing down my leg. The straps sort of held them in place, but he was patient working the sock down freeing it from the binding strap. His fingers tickled a bit as he worked the sock down over my heel. He stopped when my right heel was exposed. Nice heel he smiled, inspecting the heel. He ran his index finger lightly over my heel making me squirm as the sensation ran up my legs making me realize I was still as ticklish as I was when I was 12. He grabbed a soft stone and with a bit of baby oil on my heel, he scrubbed the exposed heel. I squealed and bucked, but I was tied tight as Rick scrubbed for a good minute. I felt like I would go crazy as I watched with amazement as my boss worked my foot. He was turned on. He was in a lustful daze himself as he pulled off my sock exposing the foot to an air conditioned room. I begged through my gag but it was useless as Rick used his fingers, some string, baby oil and a toothbrush to tickle me into submission. He tickled my foot for 30 minutes using a variety of techniques working every inch of the foot. I'm not sure what tickled worst, the soft string slowly pulled through my toes, or the baby oiled feet scrubbed with a small toothbrush working from my heel to the underside of my toes, but as he methodically worked the spots, my lung hurt, my mouth was dry and I thought I could actually die from being tickled.
Rick stopped the tickling and told me I needed a break as he opened up another cold beer. He actually gave me a beer with a straw and allowed me a couple of big sips of the cold beer which felt good to my dry mouth and throat. I started to plead with him, but he put up his finger making a shhhh sound as he worked the ball-gag back in my mouth. I was surprised that my cock was hard; pressing into my shorts and jeans I felt a weird sense of erotic comfort. I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me, but the unsure nature of what the end game for me was a turn on. After 10 minutes of rest, Rick setup what look like a mini work bench positioning a hair dryer in the vice grips pointing a couple of inches from my left foot where my boot was still tied in place. Are you curious Marty about my contraption? This hair dryer is going to heat up your left foot as I slowly apply baby oil to your foot. It will run for a while as I work the oil deeper into your bar foot; then when it is really sensitive, I will torment your ticklish foot until you pass out. Rick said this with a wry, confident smile, his eyes boring into my eyes reminding me how helpless I was. When the sock was ripped from my left foot - a light tickle scratch from heel to toe made me giggle like mad but tied so tight, I could barely move and resist the sensation. He poured baby oil into his hand and spread them on my left sole. He turned on the hair dryer and within 30 seconds, I could feel the intense heat as my foot scrunched and flexed trying to avoid the intense warming sensation. It didn't burn, but my foot moved wildly as much as it would allow as the consistent heat made me foot scream for relief. Rick slowly worked in some baby oil, really massaging the oil deep into my thick soles, occasionally working them under and around my toes. When I thought the heat was too much, he seemed to sense it and grabbed and ice cube from the cooler and work them over my foot, easing the heat but making it tickle that much more. He turned off the dryer after 10 minutes and without missing a beat, he picked up a little scrub brush and worked it slowly over my heel as I screamed like mad through my ball gag. He worked the brush in and around my feet for 5 minutes straight as tears rolled down my cheeks. When he stopped I was so exhausted, my breathing labored as I giggled uncontrollably. I must have passed out but hearing voices I woke up to see this pretty middle aged blonde standing next to me, with a wry smile herself. She was talking to Rick asking how long I was being tickled. Their conversation casual, making we wonder how many other victims she watched get tormented.
I was begging in my gag as she brushed my hair back. Oh don't worry sweetie she whispered, he is almost done with your sexy feet. My cock was raging as Rick worked his fingers over my soles and toes. His girlfriend Becky scratched my cock lightly as I realized she was working me into a lustful erotic bliss. It took a couple of minutes, but my hips rocked as her fingers found the spot on the underside of my shaft and my body convulsed into spasms as I shot a load into my shorts. They laughed and even had a little make out session as Becky rubbed his hard cock.
OK Marty, your time is up. I'm going to let you go now and you are going to be a good little boy and massage my feet for 15 minutes, then you will leave, got it? I was humbled and beaten as I sat on my knees and worked Rick's big size 14s listening to his commands on how and where to massage his feet. He told me to never speak of this, and if I went to the police, he would have Becky back up his story of a playful threesome between all of them. I was humiliated and beaten so I quickly agreed and left. He never spoke of it, or ever made reference of my torture at work or when we were alone, but I still could feel his unspoken power over me. I actually find myself thinking back at the torture surprised how aroused I get when I reflect on the tickle torture. Maybe I should stop over Rick's one night and say hi?
Feel free to send comments to [email protected]
