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9

Dylan’s Foot Torture

by Mistery Science

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Dylan. Hot. Young. Popular.

Everyone loves the guy. He was a twenty-three year old guy just living life. Partying. Studying. Fucking. Repeat. He had boyish good looks and great grades. He was straight, rich, and the envy of many of his peers.

He also had a fondness of wearing flip flops. Since he was a teenager, he was keenly aware of his unusually attractive feet. His toes were perfectly shaped, his arches were smooth and curvy, and his soles were undeniably soft. He even went in regularly for manipeddies, no matter how gay it looked. He just liked being barefoot and showing off his hot size twelve feet, though, in the bedroom, he never really used them. He would never say no to a foot massage, though.

He loved the way the gay guys in his class would try to secretly eye his feet. He would do little tricks like leaning on his toes in his flip flops, showing off his golden arches, or slipping his bare feet out of his loafers, and flexing his toes in a carefree way. He even caught one of the fags in his class take a picture with his phone!

He would never do anything with a guy, but he loved the attention, no matter what the gender.

Unfortunately for him, his beautiful feet also attracted the sick and insane. One particular classmate, Gavin, had his eye on Dylan for quite some time, and soon his plans to entrap the young college senior would come to fruition.

One day, while studying in his dorm, he heard a knock at the door. He opened it, and was greeted by a hooded man in dark sunglasses.

“Can I help you, bro?”

The hooded man held up a strange looking crystal, and the light grabbed his attention immediately.

“Look into the light, and sleep . . . sleep . . .”

Dylan had no idea what was happening, but he couldn’t resist. He stared into the little crystal until he stopped blinking, and soon, his awareness faded away. He didn’t even realize he had passed out, yet he still stood there, now enthralled by the hooded man, a slave to his will . . .

****

He awoke, groggy, his head spinning. Where was he?

He was in a small room, lying flat on a bed which seemed to be higher off the ground than normal, like one you find at a doctor’s checkup office. However, his feet were going into the wall!

There was a space large enough for his legs to fit through, and his shins and feet were sticking into this wall. There was a few inches of open space above his legs, so that he could move his legs up down a little. It was a weird contraption. His feet were bare, and they were on a ledge of some sort. He didn’t remember being barefoot before ringing the doorbell--in fact, he was wearing socks and shoes.

He was still dressed in his tank top and shorts, but the worst part was, he couldn’t move! He tried to retract his legs from the hole in the wall, but it was no use.

“What the fuck?” He tried to wriggle his body, but he seemed paralyzed from the neck down. Only his face could move, yet, strangely enough, he still had feeling all throughout his body. His feet felt a bit cold from the air in the other room.

“Greetings Dylan,” said a voice from a loudspeaker.

“Hey, what the fuck is this? What’s going on, man?” Dylan was panicking. Why couldn’t he move his body? The loudspeaker voice boomed.

“For months you’ve tortured me with your beautiful feet. Your delicate arches, the smooth and supple skin of your soles, your perfect little toes . . .and now, it is your turn to be tortured.”

Dylan’s face turned white with fear. “What the fuck are you talking about? My feet? What the fuck?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know what you’ve been doing. All this time, teasing me, taunting me, torturing me. It’s your turn, now. Get ready for your punishment.”

“What?! Let me go, you sick fuck!”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve deeply hypnotized you so that you cannot move your body. However, the hypnosis allows you to feel everything. I want you to suffer as much as you’ve made me suffer all these months. Drugs could never have accomplished this effect. Only a deep hypnosis could pull this off. While you can’t move your body--others can. So enjoy this. I know I will.”

Dylan started hyperventilating. Others can move his body? What the fuck was this guy talking about? And hypnosis? What?

“What the hell are you talking about? Let me go! What the fuck--HELP!”

Silence.

Before long, Dylan felt hands grab hold of his feet. Big hands.

“Hey! What the fuck! Let me go!” He couldn’t see anything from his side of the wall, but he was sure the hands were a man’s hands? What were they going to do? Cut his feet off? He started sweating with fear. He did his best to move his body, but it was no use. His whole body was limp except for his face.

He felt fingers began to explore his feet, touching them, massaging them. He felt thumbs press deeply into his arches, and he screamed in protest when he felt his toes being spread apart, as if he were a test subject.

“HELP! Get the hell away from me, you fucking psycho!”

“Mmmm, yeah, this boy’s feet are absolutely divine. Wow!” The voice from the other side was gravelly, older sounding. He didn’t like the sound of it. He felt his feet being lifted slightly in the air.

“Get the fuck off me you fucking freak!” It was no use.

Suddenly, he felt it. A wet, cold, slimy thing touch the bare skin of his soft soles. It was unmistakable. It was a tongue.

“Oh, and they taste great too! Mmmm, tasty!”

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” screamed Dylan. He tried to move his body desperately, but it was no use. He was limp like a dead fish, yet could feel everything.

He felt the man’s tongue slide against his soles, a sickening sensation he never could’ve imagined in his young life.

He screamed again, furious, and in response, another stroke of the tongue, this time on his other foot.

“Mmmmm,” giggled the man on the other side of the wall. “He’s a feisty one, yes he is.”

More tongue strokes on his bare feet. Not only was this reviling, but he was embarrassed to admit that it was also slightly ticklish! He felt goosebumps all over his skin with each lick, each stroke of the man’s coarse tongue sending shivers throughout his whole body. His screams did nothing to stop his feet from being licked constantly. He couldn’t even flex his toes in disgust.

The man’s tongue lapped at his heels like a dog, then moved upwards, painting his soles in saliva. He growled in pleasure, Dylan’s face twisting in horror. The last thing he could ever think about was having his feet licked like a dog treat by some nasty fuck!

“Okay, I think I’m done. Time to unload.”

Dylan was highly stressed, his face red from humiliation. He could only look hopelessly up at the ceiling. What was gonna happen next? Could anyone help him?

He felt the man’s grimy hands touch his feet again, this time holding them by the ankles. He tried moving his legs again, to kick the man away--anything! But it was futile.

Then, he felt something soft, yet not soft, touch his feet. It wasn’t abrasive, but it was rounded at the tip, with a loose bit of skin hanging on its edge . . .

“Oh my god,” whispered Dylan to himself. It had to be the guy’s cock.

“Ooohhhhh yyeaaah, Imma fuck your feet HARD boy.”

“NOOOOOO!” Dylan screamed, his eyes in tears, as he felt the the man’s curved, squat penis touch his delicate soles. He never imagined such a disgusting feeling in all his life, and yet here it was, happening to him right now, and there was nothing he could do about it.

It felt like a hard hot dog touching his feet, prodding his soles. He felt the head of the man’s penis rim his toes, gently separating them slightly as it moved. He grinded his teeth and groaned loudly as the man’s penis pressed against his soles aimlessly, jabbing at them hungrily.

He screamed when he felt the man’s precum ooze out, wetting his toes, and dripping down the balls of his feet.

“Mmmm, yeah, gimme a second, almost done, boy.”

The man grabbed him by his ankles, and pressed his feet together tightly. Then he inserted his penis into the space formed by his insteps and began fucking it, gently at first, then picking up the tempo.

“Please. . . stop . . .” Dylan was in tears but the man wouldn’t stop. He continued to fuck his soles mercilessly, grunting as he did so. Dylan felt every thrust on his feet. The wet friction caused by the man’s penis against the soft skin of his feet made him sick to his stomach, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. The man’s hard dick crashed against his feet over and over again, and judging by the vocal sounds he was making, he was almost at climax.

He groaned deeply and, suddenly, Dylan felt gobs of wet goo all over his shins, ankles, and on his feet. He choked back tears as he felt the man’s cum fly all over his hairless legs. Just when he thought it was over, another shot of cum flew onto his naked feet as if he were being spat on, adding even more insult to his humiliation.

“Ooohhhhhh yeah, lemme get some more of those feet. Ugh, yeah, Imma wipe this cum all over your pretty little arches, hot stuff.” Dylan felt the man’s slimy cock grind all over his soles, smearing the cum into his arches. He felt the goo drip down the balls of his feet, and could only imagine the revolting sight of a thin wall of man milk splashed against his own feet.

“You’re one of the good ones, that you are! Thanks!”

Dylan sobbed to himself, as he heard the man walking away. He felt violated, his feet feeling grossly sticky, wet, and now cold. How did this happen to him? He couldn’t even move his feet; they just lay there, limp, helpless, covered in semen like a used sex toy.

It wasn’t long before he felt another man grab his feet, but this time he felt a wet spray, and some wipes on his feet.

“Help me . . .” he said hopelessly.

“Just gotta clean you up for the next guy.”

“THE NEXT GUY?!”

“Of course. This isn’t over, you silly little thing.” That had to be the man from the loudspeaker; the voice was familiar. He was right, as the man was Gavin, who was also the man that hypnotized him. He laughed.

“Please, just let me go. I’ll give you anything you want. I’m rich, man, look. My parents can get you anything you want, just . . .PLEASE.”

“You’re already giving me what I want right now.”

“No more, please. Just let me go?”

There was a long pause, and a sigh. For the first time in a while, Dylan felt a tinge of hope.

“Sorry, no can do!”

Silence. Dylan sobbed, as the man walked out of the room, leaving him alone again.

His feet felt clean and dry. Unfortunately, the respite didn’t last long. He heard footsteps once again, and screamed as he felt his feet picked up once again by another pair of masculine hands. These hands felt warm and sweaty, and seemed to stick to the skin of his feet more than the other man’s

“NO!” he screamed. He heard a “mmmmm” and an “ooooh” sound from the other side of the wall.

“Wow, these feet are beautiful! Size twelve, right? Amazing!” A different voice this time. Dylan groaned from the pit of his stomach, tears stinging his eyes again.

It was much the same as last time. Licking. Fondling. His feet were wet again with saliva. This guy’s tongue was voracious and lapped at his feet with a deep hunger.

This time, however, he felt the man’s lips on his toes--he began to suck on each of his toes, one by one, slurping them hungrily. The suctioning sound of his toes being slurped on made Dylan want to wretch. It felt gross too, as each toe was isolated in the man’s mouth, even licking the space inbetween them.

“Ohhh, yeah, this is great. This is really great.” The man slurped and wiped his mouth, and Dylan could faintly make out the sound of a zipper coming down. He began to sob silently to himself as, once again, he felt another man’s cock pin itself against his curved arches.

This man didn’t fuck Dylan’s soles like the guy prior; he used Dylan’s feet to jack himself off. He pressed his cock right up against Dylan’s foot, sliding it vertically, up and down against his soft soles, moaning the entire time.

Dylan felt the precum shoot out of the guy’s cock, landing on the tops of his feet. The man’s dick was now coated in his own fluid, which in turn made Dylan’s soles wet with it by contact.

The man then pressed both of Dylan’s feet together and jammed his cock against the bottom of his soles, his shaft facing the ceiling, as he rubbed it against his wet feet over and over again, masturbating himself with his lifeless feet.

“MMMMMMMmmm fuck . . .FUCK! Fuck yes!”

Dylan shut his eyes tightly as he felt, once again, spurts of warm jizz rain on his feet, landing inbetween his toes even. He felt it slide down the tops of his soles, some jizz landing on his ankles and shins again, his soles covered once again in white slime.

“Woo! What a relief! I didn’t think I couldn’t hold it that long, these feet are too delicious. I have to say, young man, you have the BEST feet out of anyone I’ve ever fucked. Thank you for your generosity!”

Dylan was silent as the man walked away, his feet helpless, wet, and sticky once again. He felt disgusted in himself, and wept, his face red with shame like he had never felt.

Once again, he felt a cleaning solution being sprayed on his feet, as all the remains from the last session was wiped away.

“I can’t do this anymore . . . Please let me go . . I’m going insane . . .”

“Awww, poor you. It’s not my fault you were born with such beautiful feet. God damn.”

The man left him once again, alone. He felt like he couldn’t even cry anymore.

Another man came by, and like those before him, he fucked, sucked, and licked his feet. He groaned in protest, screamed until his throat was dry, but nothing worked. This guy tried to tickle his feet, and Dylan couldn’t help but laugh, not because he wanted to, but because the sensations were too much to bare. The man’s fingertips were like feathers, gently brushing along his arches, and he alternated between sobs and weak laughs at the nerve wracking sensations.

That didn’t last long, however, as the man soon took out his cock and started fucking the life out of his feet like the others, giving himself a footjob at Dylan’s expense.

Dylan felt jizz cover his feet once again, as the man fucked his soles once hard and fast.

After he was done, his feet was cleaned, and another man came by. Then another. And another. Each time his feet were violated, made wet and sticky with various body fluids, fucked ruthlessly, sucked ruthlessly, tickled, squeezed, even nibbled on (until Gavin stopped that), then tossed aside and cleaned like a cheap and worthless sex toy.

Gavin came in the room his upper body was in, hooded and disguised, and flipped Dylan on his stomach, ignoring his protests and screams and curses.

“Let me GO! FUCK YOU!”

“Calm down, and just relax, jeez.”

Then, like before, the same thing happened: several guys came in and fucked Dylan’s feet, but this time in a position where his feet were hanging off the ledge, his toes facing the ground. Dylan screamed as he gave footjob after footjob, cum streaming down his toes after each job, his feet prodded, fondled, pressed, and fucked over and over. He had begun to lose count at how many footjobs he had given.

A footjob! Even the word sounded funny to him. Who’d a thunk it? This was definitely a job now, there was no doubt about it!

Dylan couldn’t stand it. He started laughing to himself. This was too unreal to be true. Here he was, just earlier in the day studying for his exams, making plans to go and fuck one of the bitches on his phone, everything totally cool like always. How did it come to this?

How did he end up in this weird position where his feet were stuck in a glory hole, and were, right now as he was going delirious, being fucked mercilessly by a stranger; spit on by faceless men, his toes sucked and separated, his soles fucked like a piece of meat, cum on like a whore? He was too rich and privileged to be going through this!

He started laughing to himself so hard that spittle started dripping down the sides of his mouth.

“Thanks, bro, you’re the best!” said a voice on the other side of the wall when he was done, his feet defiled once again, cum oozing down his arches. Dylan felt numb inside. Maybe he should enjoy this? Why not? He felt the familiar sensation of wetness and stickiness all over his feet and legs, cum dripping from his toes onto the floor, and couldn’t even muster up the strength to feel grossed out.

“You okay in there? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I dunno, man.” Dylan laughed in a high pitch voice. “Am I okay? I dunno man!” He laughed harder.

“Aww don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to be over?” He chuckled softly. “Yeah, maybe I want this? Maybe I want to fuck my own feet? Is that even possible?” He laughed again.

Gavin, the man on the other side of the wall, made a thoughtful pose. It seemed the hypnosis was having a more adverse effect on Dylan than he thought, possibly causing him to go crazy. He didn’t want that. This was too much fun!

“Alright, we’ll call it quits. After this.”

“Heh, heh, after this, he says. Over my dead body. Or my dead feet, am I right?” Dylan closed his eyes and laughed again, feeling lightheaded.

Gavin unzipped his pants, and whipped out his cock. He pressed it against Dylan’s soles. His soft penis immediately began to inflate as if Dylan’s foot were made of magic, and in a way, it was. The guy did have sexy feet, after all.

He loved how the softness of his soles were like a pillow as he pressed his large penis against them, the surface slightly bending. He held one foot in his hand a few inches up, admiring the perfect arch as it ran from heel to toe, on both sides of the foot. He loved this position the most, and let his tongue lick the length of Dylan’s arch.

“God Dylan, why did you have to have such beautiful feet? Why’d you have to tease me all day in class? Ugh, your feet are so . . fucking . . .hot!”

At first Gavin rubbed his erection against the curve of Dylan’s lone, suspended foot, getting harder and harder with each stroke. Then he began to press his cock into the space between Dylan’s feet, pulling them together. He held them tightly, loving the feel of Dylan’s soft and supple skin as it rubbed against his cock, his toes gently moving in relation to sexual motions.

“Oh I dunno--maybe so guys like you could fuck em? Ha! There’s a thought! Fuck my feet harder--why not? Ive got nothing to lose man! Go ahead and fuck my feet! Hnnnggghh, that’s the spirit, fuck ‘em hard. HARDER, I SAY!”

He started laughing deliriously as Gavin fucked the poor boy’s feet relentlessly, using his fingers to bend Dylan’s toes as he pumped his cock inbetween those sexy soles. The weight of Dylan’s big feet against his cock was too much, and soon the pressure built up in his loins, as he squirted his load all over his feet and legs, like all the other guys before him.

“Awwwwwww gooooddddd. Oh god, oh god oh god,” said Gavin, as his cock deflated, spitting every last drop of cum all over Dylan’s immobile, soft feet.

“Yeah, did you get it? Make sure you rub all that shit all over my feet, inbetween my toes and shit man.” Dylan laughed half heartedly in a strange, nervous voice.

Gavin did as he was told, using his limp cock to smear all the jizz he could into Dylan’s soles, enjoying the sight of cum oozing down his arches and toes.

“Yyyyeeah that’s right. Get it all in there. Mmmmmm. I love the feel of jizz on my fucking feet man.”

Gavin laughed.

“No you don’t. You’re just losing it, man. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to restore your mind after this.”

“What? Why would you do that? This . . .” he laughed nervously. “This is the new me now. That’s all I am. A little foot bitch.” He giggled, his mouth forming a crooked smile. He half believed what he was saying to be true, even as the cum dripped from his toes. “A foot bitch. I think I’m getting hard thinking about it.” In truth, he was, though just slightly, a result of his mind going through the ringer and entering a state of confusion.

“Actually, no. In fact, when I snap my fingers, you will sleep and that is that.”

“Wha? You’re crazy, man. Crazy!”

Gavin sighed and snapped his fingers, and Dylan was out like a light.

******

Dylan woke up at his table. He had the weirdest fucking dream. He dreamt he was going crazy while tiny men tickled his feet with feathers. Pretty insane.

And he had overslept! It was late night now, what the fuck!

He checked his phone and had a bunch of missed calls. Damn, he could’ve got some tonight, too. Oh well, he was gonna shower and watch some tv. Maybe jack off a bit.

He didn’t even realize that he was barefoot, and, for the first time in his life, he decided he’d look up foot porn. Try something new, y’know? Maybe he’d start with male foot porn . . .he didn’t know what he was doing, but before he knew it, he was looking up various galleries of male feet online. Even weirder, he was getting hard too . . . He would never tell anyone about this, of course. But the thought crept into his mind--that maybe he’d like to have some stuff like this happen to him and his feet, as well? I mean, that wasn’t gay at all, right? It’s not like he was looking at guys dicks or anything--it’s just harmless old feet. Sheesh.

He contemplated this strange conundrum as he whipped out his cock and started jerking it, not even realizing that this was the first time he had ever had a gay thought in his life--and it had to do with his own feet! Mmmm. The thought of his feet getting used like a sex toy . . . it was making him supremely hard and he didn’t even mind.

He thought nothing of it as he jacked off blissfully.