Patrick carried me into the small bathroom and set me down on the cold tiled floor with my feet facing the bath and he turned and walked out again. I reached for some paper and wiped the dripping cum from my ass. Patrick returned holding his tie and whistling a jaunty little tune. He stepped into the bath, kneeled down and lifted my calves onto the side of the bath so that my feet hung over it. He tied one end of his tie around my ankles and the other end to one of the handles on the side of the bath. Then, still whistling and not looking at me, he drew the shower curtain and lifted it over my shins where they protruded. I could no longer see my feet. Patrick started the shower and began cleaning himself and nothing happened for quite a while except that I could feel the warmth of the steam and the warm spray from his shower hitting my feet. Then, around the extreme right of the shower curtain I saw him take the shower head out of its bracket and I heard him shift around and take up position next to my feet. Despite what I had already been through, my pulse began to quicken again and it was then that I felt strong soapy hands make contact with my feet and I jerked in surprise. Patrick’s soapy slippery hands began massaging and soaping up my feet as I tried and just about succeeded in keeping in the giggles from this only light to medium ticklish sensation. Patrick worked a finger and thumb around my big toes holding them in place. Then I felt the scrubbing brush. My mind reeled and my feet jerked and wriggled and struggled in his vice like grip as he began scrubbing the soft warm flushed pink soles of my horribly ticklish feet with the soapy scrubbing brush.
“AAAAAAHAHAHAHAA!!! NOOOHOHOHOO!!! MASTER!!! STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP PLEEEHEHEHEASE!!!” I yelped out as I squirmed on the bathroom floor. I grabbed a towel and held it over my face and bit it as I laughed hoarsely into it. It was all I could do to try to retain my sanity as Patrick tortured my feet just the other side of the thin shower curtain. He scrubbed every inch, every deliciously ticklish curve of my young feet, digging in deep on the heels and poking bristles in between my delicate toes. I had no idea how long it took to clean mascara off a pair of soles but I was certain Patrick carried on much longer, savouring the torture and still whistling his jaunty little tune. After what seemed like an eternity of scratchy bristly tickle torture it stopped and I heard the brush drop into the bath. Patrick rinsed my feet of soap and then I felt his mouth close over my toes and begin sucking and kissing them lovingly as if in some kind of apology for the torture. Even this tickled enough and I took the towel away from my face but I was not able to stop giggling. I loved how he treated my ticklish feet like one might treat an inanimate possession, like a sex toy. I loved how much my feet turned him on and loved every minute of the ticklish tortures he was subjecting me to. Not that there would be much I could do about it if I didn’t. Patrick sucked and worshipped my toes and waggled his tongue all over my clean soles for a few minutes and then grasped both soles by the tops and pressed his huge and once again hard cock against them. Then he stood, drew back the curtain and untied my feet. He looked down at me and beckoned me toward him. I stood up and stepped into the shower with him. There was not much room and my slender white body was pressed against his huge tanned hairy frame. His cock rested against me wherever I stood. He placed his hands on my hips, turning me away from him and he gently but firmly manoeuvred me around to face the wall. He turned the shower head towards the wall so that the hot water ran down and warmed the tiles I was pressed against. He soaped up his cock and my ass, parted his feet into a wide stance to lower his hips, lifted me onto my tip-toes by my ass cheeks and slowly slid his cock once more into the warm welcoming confines of my ass. I let out a moan of pure pleasure as I felt him slide inside me and I placed my hands against the tiles and arched my ass backwards into him for him to use. He began fucking me thoroughly again, almost lifting me clear of the floor with each thrust.
“You’re mine now tickle boy.” He whispered into my ear.
“You’re mine to use and to tickle as I see fit. Look down at your beautiful feet tickle boy” I obeyed.
“I’m going to tickle torture those pretty feet and suck those pretty toes all night. Tell me you want me to.”
“I want you to tickle torture my feet Master!” I replied.
“Tell me how much you love getting your soft feet tickled.”
“I absolutely love it Master. You tickle my feet so well, it’s torture because I’m so ticklish but I love it Master!” I said, my voice trembling a little as he rhythmically pistoned his cock in and out of my small white ass. He had already cum several times now and as he tickle talked into my ear I began wondered if this might prove to be a long shower. I didn’t mind, I was happy being his human Fleshlight for as long as he wanted to plough me but after only a couple of minutes of delicious deep fucking and back and forth tickle talk I felt his pace quicken and his breath grow sharper He fucked me harder, now lifting me entirely clear of the floor and I laced my legs back around his tree trunks and steadied myself on the wall as he wrapped his arms around my waist and man-handled me back and forth on his cock like a masturbation aid. He moaned loudly as he came in my ass a third time. He lowered me back down and kneeled to slide his cock out. It emerged with a generous dribble of cum down the plug hole, temporarily sated again. He turned and washed himself thoroughly once more while I waited and then left it on for me.
“Go ahead and shower if you want to, but don’t be too long. I want you back out and in your boots again soon. I want your feet fragrant again so I can taste your foot flavour. Tickle boy’s toes should taste like toes, not like soap.”
I showered quickly, dried myself and returned to the bedroom, naked. Patrick lay on the bed holding one of my boots to his face and inhaling deeply.
“Your foot smell is delicious tickle boy.” He said and inhaled deeply again.
“Go for a walk. I want you to go for a brisk walk in these boots again. Maybe consider running. And leave your socks with me.”
“Master?...” I began to enquire.
“I want you sweaty again. Mainly your feet but I don’t mind if your whole body gets sweaty and warm again. Put your clothes back on and go for a quick paced walk around the area for 10 minutes.” I began to put my clothes back on.
“I want you to go for a walk and willingly come back again tickle boy. I want you to choose to come back to have your feet tickle tortured again. I’m going to tickle them for hours when you do come back and I will have no mercy and provide no breaks unless I need them. I want you to choose that.”
“I will hurry back Master.” I said, understanding fully what he meant.
I dressed, retrieved my boot from him and left the room almost at a trot. I walked/jogged around the king’s cross station area, mostly staying within sight of the hotel and looking up at our bedroom light as I passed to see if Patrick were watching from the window. After about 8 minutes my feet felt pretty warm and sweaty again and I made a b-line straight back to the hotel. I climbed the stairs and hurried along the corridor back to our room where my new friend was molesting my socks while he waited for me. I fumbled with the keypad in the door and opened it and entered. Patrick was not on the bed. I crept in.
“Master?...” I said quietly.
Then the door slammed behind me and Patrick grabbed me from behind. My heart leapt and he easily picked me up and plopped me face down onto the bed. He followed quickly, already holding the restraints and began urgently stripping me naked once more. I was in full fight or flight paralysis and I wasn’t able to help him to facilitate tickle raping me, but he was done by the time I had my senses back, including some hungry deep sniffs of the inside of my boots again. He roughly grabbed my wrists behind me and cuffed them and grabbed my ankles, bending my legs at the knee and cuffed them together and fast to my wrist cuffs hog-tying me again. As I craned my head around to see him I noticed one of my socks was slipped over his erect cock and the other was in his teeth as he tied me. I can’t explain why but this gave me a surge of lust and I wanted him to force feed me my own socks and then mouth rape me with his huge cock immediately after. As if he could read my thoughts he took the sock out of his mouth and stuffed it into mine. Then he reached over to the dresser and picked up a white plastic fork and several single service butter sachets.
“Got these from downstairs while you were out.” He said.
“I’m glad you chose to return your beautiful ticklish feet to me tickle boy. I will reward them with the torture I know you crave.”
He set the plastic down by my sock gagged face and licked in a long wet slurp up the tops of both of my sweaty moist warm feet from ankles to toes. I giggled into my gag and clenched my fists. As much as I had already been tickled this evening I was always surprised by how ticklish my feet were. He slid three pf my toes into his mouth and his fingers dived straight in tweaking and tickling all over my soles in his patented “picking flowers” technique. My body reacted without my brain’s permission as we both knew it would. Every muscle in my body tensed up immediately and I struggled and squirmed and wriggled and laughed through my gag. My reactions were like a red rag to a bull. They were the perfect way to turn my Master on and make sure the tickling only got worse but I was totally helpless to stop myself. His fingers tweaked and squeezed my heels for a little while as he sucked my toes, then they travelled in a four finger beckoning motion up into the centre of my soles and my panicked giggling ramped up a notch. My feet flapped as I tried to cover one foot with the other and he had some trouble sucking my toes so he spanked my ass a couple of times and tied my big toes together with the thin end of his tie which was still wet from the shower and now cold. He switched suddenly, his fingers swooping downwards to apply the picking flowers tickling to my bare ass cheeks and I tried to roll away but I was clamped fast between his iron thighs. Then his fingers leapt back up onto my feet again quickly covering their entire surface with quick medium light tickles with just hints and snatches of fingernails. He was tickling with evil intentions now. He was pleasing himself, not me. I was already squirming and giggling in hysteria, choking on my own saliva and gasping for breath around my own stale sweaty sock flavour and I knew it would only get worse. I also knew I had chosen this which somehow made it all the sexier for both of us. And just as my mind reeled in desperation for the torture to stop, I knew I would choose this again every time. He released my toes from his mouth and settled his fingers in to tickle them for a while, rooting around in between them and rotating his pinkie fingers in the gaps between my big toes and 2nd toes. He leaned all the way over and sniffed my soles. Then he stopped, rose and re-positioned himself straddling my arms and facing my soles. This placed his monstrous cock and balls right into my tied hands. As I looked to either side I saw his own huge bare feet and hairy toes.
“I want you to gently stroke and tickle my cock and balls tickle boy. As much as your cuffs will allow.”
I obeyed and began light tickling touches of his balls and engorged cock, stroking and caressing gently. He leaned forwards and grasped the tops of my feet and began French kissing, licking and sucking all over my soles and toes savouring the renewed flavour. My feet trembled in place and y hysterical laughing gave way to the background happy giggling of just bearable tongue lickling. One of his hands tickled gently down my calf and back up my thigh and over onto my white ass cheeks. I wiggled my hips and ass and clenched and unclenched my ass cheeks as his fingers stroked. I continued gently caressing his cock and tickling his balls with my fingers. He continued eating my feet and licking up all of that foot smell for some time as I giggled happily beneath him with my sock still in my mouth. He devoured my toes. He untied the tie and deepthroated my feet whole, all five toes at once, one foot and then the other. And then he tickled gently again with his fingertips, just enough to ramp up my giggling a little and feel me squirming under his hulking frame like a small gazelle under a lion. Then he got up, came around the bed to one side and pulled me over so that my face was at the edge of the bed. I knew what was next and I couldn’t wait. He kneeled bringing his dripping cock perfectly to my face height, pulled the sock gag out of my mouth and shuffled forward onto his knees sliding his cock into my eager mouth for me to suck, just as he had done earlier in the evening. It was a classic. I loved the taste of his salty cock and pre cum. I loved the debasement of having my mouth fucked mercilessly, my ass claimed entirely and most of all the embarrassment and humiliation of having my shy, supposedly straight and horribly ticklish feet tickled and tickled and tickled. My eyes were closed as I lovingly worshipped his huge cock. He moaned and played with my hair as he watched my saliva-wet feet curl and uncurl. I sucked for a while doing most of the work myself, slurping and sucking and listening for his most pleasured sounds and trying to be a good little tickle-fuck-toy. It wasn’t long before he took over thrusting gently back and forth in my mouth, and back towards the back of my throat. I wondered briefly what wondrous tortures the evening held for me involving the plastic fork and the butter sachets but then my mind was brought back to the task at hand as he moaned louder and came in my mouth. This time I succeeded in slurping it all up and swallowing and not a drop hit the floor.
“Good little tickle boy” he said as he withdrew.
The clock read 1am. He reached for one of the butter sachets and began warming it in his hand. The night was still young.
“AAAAAAHAHAHAHAA!!! NOOOHOHOHOO!!! MASTER!!! STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP PLEEEHEHEHEASE!!!” I yelped out as I squirmed on the bathroom floor. I grabbed a towel and held it over my face and bit it as I laughed hoarsely into it. It was all I could do to try to retain my sanity as Patrick tortured my feet just the other side of the thin shower curtain. He scrubbed every inch, every deliciously ticklish curve of my young feet, digging in deep on the heels and poking bristles in between my delicate toes. I had no idea how long it took to clean mascara off a pair of soles but I was certain Patrick carried on much longer, savouring the torture and still whistling his jaunty little tune. After what seemed like an eternity of scratchy bristly tickle torture it stopped and I heard the brush drop into the bath. Patrick rinsed my feet of soap and then I felt his mouth close over my toes and begin sucking and kissing them lovingly as if in some kind of apology for the torture. Even this tickled enough and I took the towel away from my face but I was not able to stop giggling. I loved how he treated my ticklish feet like one might treat an inanimate possession, like a sex toy. I loved how much my feet turned him on and loved every minute of the ticklish tortures he was subjecting me to. Not that there would be much I could do about it if I didn’t. Patrick sucked and worshipped my toes and waggled his tongue all over my clean soles for a few minutes and then grasped both soles by the tops and pressed his huge and once again hard cock against them. Then he stood, drew back the curtain and untied my feet. He looked down at me and beckoned me toward him. I stood up and stepped into the shower with him. There was not much room and my slender white body was pressed against his huge tanned hairy frame. His cock rested against me wherever I stood. He placed his hands on my hips, turning me away from him and he gently but firmly manoeuvred me around to face the wall. He turned the shower head towards the wall so that the hot water ran down and warmed the tiles I was pressed against. He soaped up his cock and my ass, parted his feet into a wide stance to lower his hips, lifted me onto my tip-toes by my ass cheeks and slowly slid his cock once more into the warm welcoming confines of my ass. I let out a moan of pure pleasure as I felt him slide inside me and I placed my hands against the tiles and arched my ass backwards into him for him to use. He began fucking me thoroughly again, almost lifting me clear of the floor with each thrust.
“You’re mine now tickle boy.” He whispered into my ear.
“You’re mine to use and to tickle as I see fit. Look down at your beautiful feet tickle boy” I obeyed.
“I’m going to tickle torture those pretty feet and suck those pretty toes all night. Tell me you want me to.”
“I want you to tickle torture my feet Master!” I replied.
“Tell me how much you love getting your soft feet tickled.”
“I absolutely love it Master. You tickle my feet so well, it’s torture because I’m so ticklish but I love it Master!” I said, my voice trembling a little as he rhythmically pistoned his cock in and out of my small white ass. He had already cum several times now and as he tickle talked into my ear I began wondered if this might prove to be a long shower. I didn’t mind, I was happy being his human Fleshlight for as long as he wanted to plough me but after only a couple of minutes of delicious deep fucking and back and forth tickle talk I felt his pace quicken and his breath grow sharper He fucked me harder, now lifting me entirely clear of the floor and I laced my legs back around his tree trunks and steadied myself on the wall as he wrapped his arms around my waist and man-handled me back and forth on his cock like a masturbation aid. He moaned loudly as he came in my ass a third time. He lowered me back down and kneeled to slide his cock out. It emerged with a generous dribble of cum down the plug hole, temporarily sated again. He turned and washed himself thoroughly once more while I waited and then left it on for me.
“Go ahead and shower if you want to, but don’t be too long. I want you back out and in your boots again soon. I want your feet fragrant again so I can taste your foot flavour. Tickle boy’s toes should taste like toes, not like soap.”
I showered quickly, dried myself and returned to the bedroom, naked. Patrick lay on the bed holding one of my boots to his face and inhaling deeply.
“Your foot smell is delicious tickle boy.” He said and inhaled deeply again.
“Go for a walk. I want you to go for a brisk walk in these boots again. Maybe consider running. And leave your socks with me.”
“Master?...” I began to enquire.
“I want you sweaty again. Mainly your feet but I don’t mind if your whole body gets sweaty and warm again. Put your clothes back on and go for a quick paced walk around the area for 10 minutes.” I began to put my clothes back on.
“I want you to go for a walk and willingly come back again tickle boy. I want you to choose to come back to have your feet tickle tortured again. I’m going to tickle them for hours when you do come back and I will have no mercy and provide no breaks unless I need them. I want you to choose that.”
“I will hurry back Master.” I said, understanding fully what he meant.
I dressed, retrieved my boot from him and left the room almost at a trot. I walked/jogged around the king’s cross station area, mostly staying within sight of the hotel and looking up at our bedroom light as I passed to see if Patrick were watching from the window. After about 8 minutes my feet felt pretty warm and sweaty again and I made a b-line straight back to the hotel. I climbed the stairs and hurried along the corridor back to our room where my new friend was molesting my socks while he waited for me. I fumbled with the keypad in the door and opened it and entered. Patrick was not on the bed. I crept in.
“Master?...” I said quietly.
Then the door slammed behind me and Patrick grabbed me from behind. My heart leapt and he easily picked me up and plopped me face down onto the bed. He followed quickly, already holding the restraints and began urgently stripping me naked once more. I was in full fight or flight paralysis and I wasn’t able to help him to facilitate tickle raping me, but he was done by the time I had my senses back, including some hungry deep sniffs of the inside of my boots again. He roughly grabbed my wrists behind me and cuffed them and grabbed my ankles, bending my legs at the knee and cuffed them together and fast to my wrist cuffs hog-tying me again. As I craned my head around to see him I noticed one of my socks was slipped over his erect cock and the other was in his teeth as he tied me. I can’t explain why but this gave me a surge of lust and I wanted him to force feed me my own socks and then mouth rape me with his huge cock immediately after. As if he could read my thoughts he took the sock out of his mouth and stuffed it into mine. Then he reached over to the dresser and picked up a white plastic fork and several single service butter sachets.
“Got these from downstairs while you were out.” He said.
“I’m glad you chose to return your beautiful ticklish feet to me tickle boy. I will reward them with the torture I know you crave.”
He set the plastic down by my sock gagged face and licked in a long wet slurp up the tops of both of my sweaty moist warm feet from ankles to toes. I giggled into my gag and clenched my fists. As much as I had already been tickled this evening I was always surprised by how ticklish my feet were. He slid three pf my toes into his mouth and his fingers dived straight in tweaking and tickling all over my soles in his patented “picking flowers” technique. My body reacted without my brain’s permission as we both knew it would. Every muscle in my body tensed up immediately and I struggled and squirmed and wriggled and laughed through my gag. My reactions were like a red rag to a bull. They were the perfect way to turn my Master on and make sure the tickling only got worse but I was totally helpless to stop myself. His fingers tweaked and squeezed my heels for a little while as he sucked my toes, then they travelled in a four finger beckoning motion up into the centre of my soles and my panicked giggling ramped up a notch. My feet flapped as I tried to cover one foot with the other and he had some trouble sucking my toes so he spanked my ass a couple of times and tied my big toes together with the thin end of his tie which was still wet from the shower and now cold. He switched suddenly, his fingers swooping downwards to apply the picking flowers tickling to my bare ass cheeks and I tried to roll away but I was clamped fast between his iron thighs. Then his fingers leapt back up onto my feet again quickly covering their entire surface with quick medium light tickles with just hints and snatches of fingernails. He was tickling with evil intentions now. He was pleasing himself, not me. I was already squirming and giggling in hysteria, choking on my own saliva and gasping for breath around my own stale sweaty sock flavour and I knew it would only get worse. I also knew I had chosen this which somehow made it all the sexier for both of us. And just as my mind reeled in desperation for the torture to stop, I knew I would choose this again every time. He released my toes from his mouth and settled his fingers in to tickle them for a while, rooting around in between them and rotating his pinkie fingers in the gaps between my big toes and 2nd toes. He leaned all the way over and sniffed my soles. Then he stopped, rose and re-positioned himself straddling my arms and facing my soles. This placed his monstrous cock and balls right into my tied hands. As I looked to either side I saw his own huge bare feet and hairy toes.
“I want you to gently stroke and tickle my cock and balls tickle boy. As much as your cuffs will allow.”
I obeyed and began light tickling touches of his balls and engorged cock, stroking and caressing gently. He leaned forwards and grasped the tops of my feet and began French kissing, licking and sucking all over my soles and toes savouring the renewed flavour. My feet trembled in place and y hysterical laughing gave way to the background happy giggling of just bearable tongue lickling. One of his hands tickled gently down my calf and back up my thigh and over onto my white ass cheeks. I wiggled my hips and ass and clenched and unclenched my ass cheeks as his fingers stroked. I continued gently caressing his cock and tickling his balls with my fingers. He continued eating my feet and licking up all of that foot smell for some time as I giggled happily beneath him with my sock still in my mouth. He devoured my toes. He untied the tie and deepthroated my feet whole, all five toes at once, one foot and then the other. And then he tickled gently again with his fingertips, just enough to ramp up my giggling a little and feel me squirming under his hulking frame like a small gazelle under a lion. Then he got up, came around the bed to one side and pulled me over so that my face was at the edge of the bed. I knew what was next and I couldn’t wait. He kneeled bringing his dripping cock perfectly to my face height, pulled the sock gag out of my mouth and shuffled forward onto his knees sliding his cock into my eager mouth for me to suck, just as he had done earlier in the evening. It was a classic. I loved the taste of his salty cock and pre cum. I loved the debasement of having my mouth fucked mercilessly, my ass claimed entirely and most of all the embarrassment and humiliation of having my shy, supposedly straight and horribly ticklish feet tickled and tickled and tickled. My eyes were closed as I lovingly worshipped his huge cock. He moaned and played with my hair as he watched my saliva-wet feet curl and uncurl. I sucked for a while doing most of the work myself, slurping and sucking and listening for his most pleasured sounds and trying to be a good little tickle-fuck-toy. It wasn’t long before he took over thrusting gently back and forth in my mouth, and back towards the back of my throat. I wondered briefly what wondrous tortures the evening held for me involving the plastic fork and the butter sachets but then my mind was brought back to the task at hand as he moaned louder and came in my mouth. This time I succeeded in slurping it all up and swallowing and not a drop hit the floor.
“Good little tickle boy” he said as he withdrew.
The clock read 1am. He reached for one of the butter sachets and began warming it in his hand. The night was still young.
