by Tommy
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Carl Davies was the hottest guy on campus, and on our campus that’s saying something. When I got to college, a gay little freshman just beginning to poke my head out of the closet, I would stroll across the commons on nice evenings and gape at all the football players, hockey studs and other college jocks chilling out, their shirts and sneakers off, tossing the Frisbee or wrestling or just lying in the shade. So many hot guys, with chests that looked too chiseled to be real.
But Carl was a foot above the rest . . . literally. At 6' 5'’, with a tall muscular frame, he loomed above the other guys around him. He was a starter for the basket ball team, probably the best on the team, and all the other jocks in the school loved him. With a smooth strong jaw, glistening teeth and an all-American-boy smile, the girls fawned upon him constantly. But for some reason, he never touched one of them.
His best friends and room mates, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian, were also some of the hottest guys in the school, and cut from the same cloth; starters on their different varsity teams, muscular frat boys, and the five of them did everything together. Carl was the clear leader of the pack, and together the five of them, aside from being some of the hottest college kids around, were also pretty damn mean-spirited. They loved humiliating whoever they could humiliate; they loved picking on guys who were weaker than them, and were absolutely merciless toward the poor freshmen who entered their frat every year.
Although I would not learn this until later, in January of my freshman year at school, Carl and his buddies got drunk one night and made a bet. Each of them picked one freshman who seemed like a good target – someone who seemed embarrassed about something, insecure, just plain easy to intimidate, or all three. They each pitched in fifty dollars, and the jocks drunkenly swore that they would all monitor their respective freshman closely. Whoever managed to bully his freshman into “submitting” to the group of jocks first by forcing that freshman to serve as a personal slave to Carl, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian for a whole night, doing anything the five of them ordered him to, would win the money and the eternal respect of everyone else. Carl apparently placed his money on me.
It was a good bet, and probably the easiest money Carl ever made. True, Danny caught his freshman cheating on a test , and Brian promised to make his freshman’s life a living hell, and both poor freshmen seemed about to cave. But Carl outdid them all; a few weeks after the bet was made, Carl swiped my laptop from the library while I was using the bathroom. When I returned, the computer was gone, and while I frantically searched for it, Carl searched the hard-drive. It didn’t take him too long to find my foot fetish porn, which included a treasure trove of juicy pictures and several private letters I had written to myself, including one describing how hot I found Carl and his big sweaty feet, and another one confessing how ticklish I was everywhere on my body, and how much I hated and feared being tickled and yet how much I got turned on by the thought of it, at the same time.
The next day, I got a note from Carl. Apparently, Carl and his buddies had decided to expand things a little bit. If I complied completely and fully with his “terms,” I would get my laptop back at the end of my “service.” If I deviated from the terms so much as slightly, he would anonymously email my pictures to everyone in the school and show my laptop to anyone who wanted it.
Needless to say, I accepted Carl’s terms. The night Carl obtained my laptop, I gather he and his buddies had a whopping good time drafting the rules I would be forced to accept.
Here is a copy of them:
Carl’s Freshman Rules for Tommy
Following the discovery of what we shall refer to as Tommy’s “dirty little secret,” the following punishments are hereby imposed.
Tommy shall serve for the rest of the semester, for the entire summer and for the whole fall semester as Carl’s personal foot slave, servicing the feet of Carl and whoever else Carl should desire, in particular, but not excluding, Carl’s friends Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian.
Tommy is required to refer to Carl as either “master,” “sir,” or, on specified days, “Carl, whose toe lint I am not worthy of.” Tommy is required to refer to Carl in this manner whenever he addresses him regarding any subject. Tommy is also required to refer to Carl in said manner when greeting him throughout the day.
Tommy is required to address Danny, Joey, Hank Brian and other designated individuals in the same manner
Said individuals need address Tommy only as “footslave,” “boy” or any other amusing name they can invent. A failure by Tommy to respond to any such name promptly and immediately will be punished.
Tommy is required to massage, rub, lick, finger, smell, clean or otherwise service the feet, socks and footwear of Carl and his friends whenever and wherever Carl and/or his friends may require it. This includes inside the dorm rooms of Carl and his friends, inside Tommy’s own dorm room, outside on campus, off campus in cities or anywhere else it may amuse Carl to humiliate and degrade his new footslave. Public foot service, in front of many other people, is encouraged.
Tommy is required to ask that he be allowed to massage the feet of any male stranger who Carl instructs him to ask, as it amuses Carl.
Tommy is required to offer to suck and massage the feet of Carl and his friends frequently, and always after any of them have just finished exercising or engaged in another activity that produces sweat.
Over the course of his servitude, Tommy is required to give Carl 200 successful blowjobs, where “successful blowjob” is defined as a blowjob that causes Carl to cum forcefully, pleasurably and in a prolonged manner into Tommy’s mouth and in which Tommy swallows every last drop of said cum.
Over the course of his servitude, Tommy is required to give Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian a combined total of 300 successful blow jobs as well, where success is defined under the same terms. Whether or not a blow job has been “successful” is up entirely to the recepient of the blowjob.
If Tommy has not delivered the required 500 blow jobs by the time the fall semester has ended, he will be punished severely and then made to serve as Carl’s foot slave for additional months until the jobs are done.
Carl and his friends are empowered to bend Tommy over and fuck him in the ass whenever they desire it. When they choose to exercise this right, Tommyis required to assume whatever position he is ordered to assume, for as long a time as it may amuse his masters.
Carl and his friends are encouraged to combine several of these actions at once; for instance, to make Tommy deliver blow jobs and lick feet while taking it up the ass at the same time.
Although Carl and his friends are entitled to give Tommy blowjobs and other forms of sexual gratification in return as a reward, Tommy shall not be allowed to cum unless he has the express permission of Carl for his entire term of servitude. Cumming without permission will be punished severely.
Tommy is not allowed to wear clothing unless he has permission from Carl or one of his other masters. He must remain naked while servicing and obeying his five masters, unless otherwise instructed or given permission. All of Tommy’s clothing, and in particular his shoes, must be given to Carl, and Carl shall have custody over it for the entire time Tommy serves as a slave. As a punishment, Carl is free to give away or throw away shoes Tommy owns and forbid him from purchasing new shoes. If this rule results in Tommy being forced to wear sandles on bitter cold winter days, it is entirely his own fault.
Tickling:
It should be noted that Tommy, as he has already admitted in writing, is severely and apallingly ticklish on all regions of his body, but especially underneath his armpits, on his belly and ribs, on the undersides of his legs, and, above all, on the soles of his feet. Tommy writes: “I can’t stand being tickled on my feet, I just can’t stand it. The feeling of losing control is just unbearable.”
Tommy is required to hold still in whatever posture may be required of him while Carl or Carl’s friends tickle him for their own amusement, using fingers, feathers, combs, hairbrushes, toothbrushes, electric toothbrushes, toothpicks and anything else Carl or his friends may wish to experiment with. Tommy is allowed only to say: “thank you sir. Please tickle me more sir” while this activity is in progress.
Carl is empowered to tie Tommy up in whatever position may amuse Carl in order to tickle Tommy more effectively.
Tommy is required to immediately construct a set of wooden stocks and order sets of handcuffs, ropes and gags so that he can be mercilessly tickled at the whim of his master.
Tommy may be required to sit outside in the middle of campus with his feet strapped into the stocks he himself has built with “ticklish” written in magic marker on his soles so that other students can tickle Tommy for their amusement.
Tommy may also be required to dive headfirst into a large bin of garbage, so that only his feet are protruding, and submit to foot tickling as Carl and Carl’s friends force him to list, piece by piece, items he can identify in the garbage can.
Exploitation
Tommy is required to complete whatever homework assignments Carl may instruct him to complete. Failure to obtain grades of “B+” or higher on any assignment will result in serious punishment.
Tommy is required to carry out other acts of manual labor for Carl and Carl’s friends whenever ordered to.
Tommy’s class schedule must be approved by Carl and must be formatted so as to fit the needs, conveniences and general whims of Carl and his friends. Allowing school to get in the way of his footlicking, blow job-giving and other footslave obligations will not be tolerated. Tommy will take a light class load and can make up credits after his servitude is over.
Tommy shall be required to obtain a campus job, and to donate all money earned therein promptly and fully to his master Carl and Carl’s friends.
Any possessions that Tommy owns must be handed over to Carl should Carl require it.
Working Out
Tommy is required to perform the following exercise routines daily, under close supervision by Carl or one of Carl’s friends.
100 good pushups.
100 good situps.
100 good rows.
Twice a week, a jog behind Carl’s pickup. Carl is permitted to tie Tommy’s wrists to the back of the pickup if Tommy can’t keep up.
If Tommy is unable to complete the routines with good form, punishments will be imposed. Specifically, Carl may require Tommy to perform penalty pushups, situps and rows, while being either tickled, paddled or made to worship feet. Carl may also make Tommy run one of his jogs behind the pickup barefoot, if he is feeling particularly evil.
Summer Rules
Over the course of the summer, Tommy shall devote himself fully to becoming Carl’s footslave.
Tommy will be required to join Carl, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian in subletting an apartment, for which he will be required to pay his fair share (half of the rent).
Tommy will be required to obtain a job to help pay for the rent.
Tommy will be made to sleep in a closet so as not to take up perfectly good bedroom space.
During this time, his other obligations (licking feet, sucking dicks, taking it up the ass, serving as a tickle victim, working out and generally amusing his masters) will persist.
In addition, over the summer Tommy shall be required to cook meals for everyone else. Poor quality food will carry stiff penalties. Tommy must also eat all food out of a dog dish, with his hands handcuffed behind his back. To have real food, Tommy must eat a bowl full of cat food or dog food every day first. If it amuses Carl, Tommy must eat 2. It is also permisable to force Tommy to eat the dog food off his masters’ toes.
Punishments
From time to time, and in all probability a good deal more often than that, it may prove necessary to discipline Tommy for violating some of the above rules, or for generally showing a lack of needed respect. Generally speaking, punishments may be imposed for:
Disobeying any order
Not following an order fast enough
Not showing proper respect for foot masters
Squirming or screaming too loudly while be tickled.
Not asking to be tickled more while being tickled.
Withholding the truth about anything from Carl and company.
Masterbating at all without express permission.
Giving anything less than an excellent blowjob
Not swallowing all cum during a blowjob.
Not saying “sir” or “master.”
Not being able to afford rent over summer.
Not cooking well over the summer.
Giving subpar foot massages.
Breaking down or crying
Not staying in shape/performing poor pushups/situps.
Anything else.
The following list, while not comprehensive, is an incomplete list of actions that Carl, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian may take to enforce discipline, or simply to amuse themselves.
Requiring more blowjobs: First and foremost, Carl is always entitled to require that Tommy perform a larger total number of blow jobs before his term of service expires.
Tickling. While not in and of itself a punishment so much as a day to day activity in which Carl, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian enjoying partaking, Tommy is so ticklish that any serious tickling is always good punishment. As a special punishment, Carl may tie back Tommy’s toes in the stocks and work in between his toes for a good hour, sure to elicit the most pathetic begging and whimpering imaginable. When in a particularly sadistic mood, Carl may place hot candles underneath Tommy’s toes, forcing him to arch his toes back so as to not get burned, and then begin tickling.
Paddling. A good standby; Carl, Danny, Joey, Hank and Brian will all make large paddles with the phrase “Tommy: My bitch” inscribed on them. At any time one of the boys wants to, he is empowered to order Tommy to drop his pants and boxers and bend over on the floor, immobile. He is then free to paddle Tommy’s ass for as long as it amuses him. Typically for small infractions strokes should be kept relatively light and small in number (usually less than 20), but for larger infractions anything goes. Carl and his friends are encouraged to compete with each other to see who can paddle Tommy the hardest. If caught masterbating, the minimum penalty is fifty solid paddles. Tommy can also be made to count out the strokes as they are delivered, shouting “thank you sir, may I have another, sir?” after every stroke, if it amuses Carl, and the paddling must begin from scratch if Tommy loses count. A picture of Tommy’s ass should be taken immediately after completion of each paddling, so that at the end of his service Carl and his friends can determine which night made Tommy’s ass the reddest.
Housekeeping. When ordered to, Tommy must sweep the floor by licking up dirt and, when Carl wants to punish Tommy especially severely, Tommy must clean the toilet using only his hands.
Dildo. Joey has in his possession a large plastic dildo, 8 inches long and thicker than any natural dick; nearly two inches wide. As a special punishment, Joey, Carl or anyone else may require that Tommy bend over and submit to ass-fucking by the dildo. Carl may tie Tommy over a stool so that he can’t escape, then plug his asshole with the dido, paddle him as punishment and make him clean the lint from between Carl’s feet.
Barefoot jogs. Tommy may be forced to go for a run tied to Carl’s pickup. If Carl feels particularly malicious, Tommy may be forced to remove his own shoes and socks, carry the socks in his mouth, then tie his shoe laces together and string his shoes around his neck
Cage. Carl may also lock Tommy in a special cage for as long as it amuses him as punishment. The cage stands upright and is very narrow, so that Tommy has no room to do anything but stand at attention. There are special straps on the cage ceiling for Tommy’s wrists, to ensure that Tommy is unable to masterbate. If Tommy has been especially bad, Carl may adjust the cage so that it is even narrower, then force Tommy’s arms above his head; the cage will then be so confining that Tommy will literally have no room to lower his hands. Tommy may also be strung up in the cage by his ankles, should it especially amuse Carl. To be released from the cage, Tommy must confess in front of a video camera how much he loves Carl’s feet and how badly he wants to lick them.
Workout. As an amusing punishment, Tommy may also be required to perform 100 good pushups with one of his masters placing their barefeet on top of his head. It is advisable that Tommy stay in shape or get in shape to be able to do this, because a failure to do 100 good pushups could result Tommy being strapped to a rowing machine and forced to row and lick Carl’s feet at the same time while one of the other boys holds a hot flame to Tommy’s toes.
Hellnight
On one night, hereby termed “hellnight,” Carl will invite a large group of male friends, most of whom are on the hockey and football teams, over to his apartment. Tommy will strip naked and be ordered to lick clean the feet of every single athlete.
On hellnight, and on other nights when Carl wants to punish Tommy, Carl may require Tommy to play a game of “mud massage.”
The rules for “mud massage” are very simple. A large patch of dirt is staked out and water is run until it becomes super muddy. Then whoever wants to piss in the mud can piss in the mud. The group of athletes is divided into two separate groups.
Either Danny, Joey, Hank or Brian will serve as the “judge.” The judge will leave the scene. Carl will then direct the game proceedings.
All the men in one group shall wade barefoot into the mud and march around in it, making their feet thoroughly dirty. Men in the other group will keep their feet clean. Afterwards everyone will sit down in chairs which will be provided.
Carl will then bind Tommy’s hand and feet. Tommy must wallow around on the ground (naked of course) and, using nothing but his tongue, lick clean every dirty foot. He shall have one hour.
When the judge returns, he must inspect the feet of all the guests. He than selects half the jocks. If 75% or more of the men he selects were in the mud group, this means Tommy did not adequately clean the feet of his foot masters. As a consequence, Tommy must lie face down in the mud and give “mud rides” to anyone who wants one, ie, allow these powerful athletes to plant their bare feet on his back and slither around in the mud while the foot master rides on top of his body like a surfer.
As the next phase of hellnight, Tommy must eat six bowls of dog food and six beers, one after the other, in the space of ten minutes. If he cannot, he must submit to more tickle torture and mud rides.
Then Tommy must stick his head into the stocks, allow Carl to lock the stocks, and submit to a paddling. Each guest may spank Tommy three times; everyone shall have one turn, and then another. Carl and his friends will be allowed the first paddles, and may then sit as a panel and judge each successive paddling by each jock. They will then select the five jocks who give Tommy the best paddlings. These will be selected based on:
-The _expression on Tommy’s face when the paddle makes contact. If possible, this shall be videotaped.
-The noise, if any, that Tommy makes when the paddle strikes.
-How loud the “thwacking” sound is.
-General style: the wind-up, the solidness of contact, the overall satisfaction derived, the cleverness of the remark delivered during the paddling, if any (ie, “take this, bitch” = good, “oooh, that’s gotta hurt, don’t it?” =good, “that’s what yo mamma said.” = excellent.)
The five winners of the paddling contest have the option of each paddling Tommy ten more times, or making Tommy grovel to avoid paddling.
Then, Carl will invite these five winners to go for a ride with him in his pick up truck. Tommy will be handcuffed, and then his wrists will be connected to the back of the truck by a length of rope. Each boy will take turns driving the truck around and around through the mud, and Tommy will have to run around behind the truck, naked and barefoot. Tommy must keep up or risk being literally “dragged through the mud.”
Each of the five boys will then outline their “plan” for Tommy that evening; ie, more paddling, tickling, foot licking, bar trolling (ie, taking Tommy to bars and making him lick feet and humiliating him there), etc. Whoever can come up with the meanest plan, as judged by Carl, will take Tommy home as his slave for the night. The only condition is that Tommy must be returned home safe and not permanently harmed the next morning.
Carl may impose a second “hell-night” on Tommy as a punishment should Tommy do something especially naughty. If Tommy has not performed the required 500 satisfactory blowjobs by the end of the fall term, another hell night will become automatic.
“ You Piss, You Pay”
Another fun game that Carl may require Tommy to play is “you piss, you pay.”
According to the rules, Carl invites some jock friends over to watch TV. When they arrive, Tommy is strapped down and forced to drink a six-pack of beers, one right after the other. Tommy has a maximum of 25 seconds to down each beer, with minimal spillage. If he fails to down the entire beer in 25 seconds, he shall be paddled and made to drink extra beers.
Then Tommy shall be tied naked in the air, with his belly facing down, a big pail underneath his dick. Carl and his friends then make bets on how long Tommy can last and pass the time by watching TV. To win their bet, they are permitted to tickle the soles of Tommy’s feet with a feather for ten minutes each, but not using their hands (because Tommy is too pathetically ticklish and would lose on the spot)
Tommy must hold the piss in for seven hours. If he succeeds, he remains tied in place until he pees but may be released after that (however, since he will not have access to a clock, he will not know when the seven hours are up). If he pisses before then, he must worship and massage the feet of whichever jock bet on that particular time slot.
Then, as a special punishment, he must drink all the piss in the pail, and drink the piss of the winner of the bet, if the winner desires it. If Tommy refuses, he shall submit to heavy paddling until he does.
Then, having pissed himself like a dog, Carl shall put a leash around Tommy’s neck and take him for a walk, like a dog.
Concluding Rules
Tommy is required to never tell another soul about the sexual things his foot masters made him do for a year. (His other torments, and his public humiliations through such exciting games as “mud massage” and “you piss you pay” are of course perfectly fair game) As insurance, Carl will keep a CD with all of Tommy’s pictures and letters saved onto it.
After Tommy’s year of servitude is over, from time to time, if Tommy wants to keep the CD a secret, he may be required to come over and give Carl a foot massage, lick Carl’s feet, lie on the floor and serve as a footstool for Carl, or give Carl a blowjob. Just for old time’s sake, of course.
So, those were the terms I agreed to. Like I said, I had no choice.
I could tell you lots more. There’s way too much to tell; maybe I’ll just tell you a little more about the five hot, power-happy whose boy-toy and sex slave I had suddenly become, and relate incidents involving each.
Danny was definitely the horniest one. Girls fawned all over him, but he was completely in the closet and never had sex with any of them, so I bore the brunt of Danny’s huge libido. He was captivated by the possibilities of having someone like me at his beck and call to obey his every whim, and he took full advantage of me. He loved doing me in the ass, and did so innumerable times. Of course, this involved some work on his part; he liked getting blowjobs even more, because I did all the work.
Under the terms of Carl’s rules, I was required to give Danny, Hank, Joey and Brian a combined total of 300 blowjobs. I got half this total from Danny alone, and in reality gave him many, many more; Danny constantly disqualified blowjobs I gave him for absurd reasons – less than one third got counted. When going down on Danny, I was required to kneel on my knees for the entire time, crouched between his big athletes’ legs as he relaxed naked in an easy chair, watching TV or just sitting there with his eyes shut. First I had to give him a good foot massage, then I had to tell him what an amazing dick he had and remark on its size (it was over seven inches).
I had to go down on him using flawless form; I felt like an olmpyian, my every move scrutinized by a panel of unforgiving judges. My teeth were not allowed to touch his dick once. My tongue action had to be perfect. I had to make the whole thing as quick or as long as Danny wanted. If he wanted to deepthroat me, I had to submit without complaint. If his dick wasn’t rock hard for the entire time, and if he didn’t shoot a massive and impressive load, that was my fault too (although Danny was so horny this part usually wasn’t a problem). And, of course, I had to swallow every last drop of cum. Fail on any of these criteria, and Danny refused to count my work toward the grand total. Sometimes, if he felt my failure was especially egregious, he even required that I perform extra blowjobs to compensate him.
One of the things I quickly learned was that Carl and his friends demanded that their rules be followed to the letter, and that their orders be obeyed without question. For instance, over the summer, when I was forced to sleep in the closet of the apartment for which I was paying half the rent, I made the mistake of telling Danny to “go fuck himself.” I had been giving Danny a blowjob while he watched a football game. “Make it last until halftime, slave,” Danny ordered as he sat in his big chair. I obliged, first massaging Danny’s feet, then licking his balls and his inner thighs, something I knew he liked, and finally taking his cock and gently licking it, expertly holding off a climax until I heard the half time bell. I was on my knees the whole time, and kneeling on your knees for an hour and a half makes you sore and more than a little cranky. When Danny finally shot his load into my mouth, moaning with pleasure, it was more cum than I had ever dealt with before; I felt like a geyser of hot liquid was spraying down my throat. I tried to swallow it all, and I did a pretty good job, but I felt a drop or two dribbling down my check and hit the floor.
Danny sat there panting; I was still on my knees between his spread legs, where I was customarily required to remain until I was given permission to go. “Oh man,” he finally gasped. “That was so good.” Then he looked at me and grinned a nasty little grin. “But know what sucks even more than you? The fact that you didn’t swallow it all. I’m afraid that doesn’t count, little man.” He thrust his big jock barefeet into my face. “Now, massage these for a little bit more, boy.”
That’s when I told him to fuck himself.
Danny got to paddle me sixty times for that, until I begged him for forgiveness. Of course, that wasn’t nearly a harsh enough punishment for such a serious offense; I also had to sleep in the cage for the next three nights, strung up by my ankles; every morning I woke up to Danny tickling the soles of my feet from the top of the cage until I screamed for him to stop. I had to give Danny fifteen extra blowjobs that didn’t count, all of them long, all of them on my knees. And, worst of all, Carl kept my hands handcuffed behind my back for a WHOLE month except when I was being directly supervised, and in that whole time, he didn’t let me whack off once. At the end of the month, I was SO horny, I pleaded with Carl to let me cum. Instead, Carl and Danny took turns whacking me off, bringing me time after time to the edge of an unbelievable, mindblowing orgasm, but always backing off just in time. They must have done that to me thirty times that night, until I thought I would absolutely go crazy. But of course I couldn’t lose it again, for fear that I’d be forbidden from whacking off for another month. Just to be mean, Danny and Carl masterbated in front of me, then kept me tied up for another day before finally releasing me and allowing me to release myself. I never complained to Danny about the blowjobs again.
Joey was different. He cared less about turning me into a sex toy; he got a kick out of simply asserting total power, dominance and control over me. He loved to make me do completely random things on the spur of the moment; suddenly freeze in place for a long stretch of time, memorize a page of complete gibberish and recite it back to him, eat a dozen fiercely spicy peppers and beg him for water. He was a big guy, and he would make me drink two shots of vodka for every one that he took and then laugh at me when I became helplessly drunk. He usually supervised me when I was doing my push ups and sit ups, and he loved to sit with his bare feet resting on my back as I did each pushup and on my face as I did each sit-up, his own personal foot rest. Of course, he loved making me lick the lint from between his toes; whenever he went for a run or returned from practice, my job was to be waiting for him to lick his soles clean. As a general rule, the other guys only paddled me for punishment; Joey paddled me just for the hell of it, and loved to hear me beg for him to stop.
Once I made the mistake of complaining to Joey about the bathroom floors. Joey had just gotten out of the shower and was wrapping himself in a towel, and he ordered me to strip, lie on the bathroom floor and lick his bare feet clean as he dried himself. The bathroom floor of their dorm room was really nasty – none of the guys had cleaned it for ages, and it didn’t drain well, so there was always a puddle of dirty water on-top of the already grimy tiling. I knew better then to disobey an order, so I quickly undressed, went into the bathroom and started to lick the undersides of his big feet – this was disgusting enough, because he was standing in the middle of all the filth -- but I only knelt on the floor, instead of lying down.
“ Lie down like I told you to, boy,” Joey said as he dried himself off.
“ But sir,” I said – I had learned long ago the consequences of not calling them “sir” or “master” – “the floor is really dirty, and I can lick your feet just as well by kneeling.”
Joey didn’t care about the dirty floor. He made me like flat on my back, right in the middle of the dirty puddle of water, and planted his foot directly on top of my face so firmly I could barely breath. Joey kept me there for an unusually long time. After I was finally finished licking Joey’s feet and Joey had finished drying himself, I stood up to leave.
“ Where do you think you’re going?” Joey demanded. “Since you don’t like our dirty bathroom floor, it’s now your job to clean it every day.”
I sighed. “Okay, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He looked like he was really enjoying himself. “And today, you get to do that using only your bare hands and your tongue.”
I spent the next seven hours naked on my hands and knees, licking clean the bathroom floor. And for the next several months, to “motivate me to keep the floor clean,” in Joey’s words, Joey used me as his personal “bath mat” every time he showered. I had to get in the shower with him and lie curled up on the shower floor, so that he could stand on top of me as he bathed. He enjoyed standing on different parts of me every night, planting his feet on my back one night, on my belly the next, then on my ass, and then, when he was in a bad mood, on my crotch or on my face. Sometimes when he was horny he made me give him “shower blowjobs,” which was good because I was trying to chalk up my required amount of blowjobs by the end of the year, and seemed to be constantly behind pace because so many of the blowjobs I delivered were disqualified for one arbitrary reason or another. But then, the worst part was, after the shower was over I had to crawl out of the shower stall and lie on the bathroom floor, so that his clean bare feet didn’t have to get dirty again. Joey got such a kick out of this particular “convenience” that the other guys started to do it too. I became the perfect bathmat. If I moved at all as they dried their feet on me, Joey was summoned to give me “swirlie,” a dunking in the toilet.
Brian was probably the most sadistic of any of them. Tickling me amused him hugely; he loved tying me up and mercilessly tickling every square inch of my body, and he could stay occupied that way for hours. He was always devising diabolical torments for me. He would hold a lighter underneath my toes and force me to keep my toes arched back fifteen minutes at a time to avoid getting singed; try this sometime, it’s very hard! Brain was also a bondage expert, and he delighted in tying me up in dozens upon dozens of different positions, all of them equally uncomfortable and humiliating. He would freeze me into a forced spread eagle, dangle me upside from my ankles, hogtie me or worse of all – and his favorite – place me on a makeshift wrack, stretch me out until I felt my arms and legs were on fire, and then tickle me until I pissed myself. Literally; he wouldn’t stop until I’d actually peed my pants. Once, Brian told me he would leave me on his wrack and continue stretching me and tickling me until I ate one of his dirty socks. I tried for six hours to chew down his sock into smaller digestable pieces, but just couldn’t do it. Brian left me there all night. The next day he made me try again. When I still couldn’t, he paddled me fortytimes, hard, before finally letting me limp away.
Another time, Brian tied me down, produced a big jar of clothing pins, and turned on a hot white light that pointed directly into my eyes. Brian told me he had decided to “interrogate me,” ask me a series of probing questions about my personal life, my past, and all my sexual preferences and fetishes. He taped the whole thing and later played it back to some of the other guys for their amusement. Every time I gave an answer Brian found superficial, evasive or false-sounding, or an answer he simply didn’t like, he would gleefully attach a clip to my skin. At first I tried to not answer some of the more humiliating questions truthfully, but Brian had an eerie ability to sense when I was lying. By the end, two hours later, Brian had attached over twenty five clips, including two to my tits, and I was screaming to Brian about the time I stumbled upon masterbation as an eighth grader after finding my mother’s vibrator. “What did you do then, boy?” “I cushioned my penis with a blanket and turned the vibrator on, SIR!” “What did you fantasize about, bitch?” “I don’t remember . . . AHHH! . . . I’m sorry sir, I fantasized about a male model I saw in a GAP commercial . . .Please I can’t take it anymore . . . AHHH!” “You’re not telling me the whole story, boy! Quick, tell me the whole fantasy or I’ll clip one onto your groin!” “I fantasized that he was sitting on a hay stack in a farm and I was licking his feet, SIR!” “That’s the stupidest fantasy I ever heard! I’m gonna put another clip on just for being inestupid, bitch!” “AHHHHH! Please stop sir, master!” And on and on the ordeal went.
Brian was also always ordering me to stretch my legs out, arch my toes back, and without any restraints remain motionless as he tickled the soles of my bare feet, but of course I always began squirming as soon as he started. One night, when it was just the two of us, Brian stripped me down, tied everything but my legs and feet up, gagged me with one of his smelly socks, then took me into his room and locked the door. I saw a big bowling pin sitting on his bed. Brian once again ordered me to stretch my legs out and hold them motionless as he tickled me feet, and once again I couldn’t keep still and I pulled me feet away after about ten seconds. Looming over me, (Brian’s a big, muscular guy) Brian smirked and told me that he was tired of “this shit.” He picked up the bowling pin and told me “if you don’t keep perfectly still for three whole minutes, your toes stretched back, while I tickle you, then I’m going to tie you over a stool and ram this bowling pin up your ass.” I tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked and anyway my arms were tied securely behind my back. I tried to scream for help, but the gag was in my mouth too securely.
Brian said he would give me five chances “to make it interesting.” Adrenaline surging through me, I managed to keep my legs locked and my toes rigid for longer than I ever had before each time, but Brian knew all my most ticklish spots, and whenever he attacked me between my toes I cracked. On the fifth try, Brian smirked at me and said: “Okay, this is it, fuck face. One more screw up and this pin goes up your rear-end. Not once, repeatedly. Now, hold still.”
Oozing sweat and shivering, I gritted my teeth. Brian went for my soles with relish, attacking with all ten fingers. It took all my will power, but I shut my eyes and gritted my teeth, my forcing my muscles to stay locked. “Coochy choochy coo” Brian taunted me. “Don’t laugh, boy.” Tears streamed down my face but I didn’t move.
Now I felt him going for between my toes, but by some Herculean effort I still didn’t move. It was agony, but I knew a bowling pin up my ass would be even worse.
“ OK, tough guy . . . let’s see how you do with this.” I opened my eyes in horror to see Brian wielding a stiff bristled brush. NO! I tried to moan from behind my gag, but Brian had already begun to scrape those cruel bristles across my exposed soles. I couldn’t help it; my stoes immediately curled reflexively forward. The bristles were even worse; I wanted so badly to yank my feet away from my captor. But I thought of the bowling pin, and managed to keep going.
It seemed to last forever. Finally, Brian stopped, and I gasped with relief. “Well . . . that was three minutes,” Brian said, grinning cheerfully at me.
I wanted to collapse with relief.
“ But you curled your toes forward. I warned you about that, boy. Now, time to go bowling up your alley.” Brian grabbed me and attached hand cuffs to my ankles. I struggled like mad, but I was trussed up like a turkey. Brian tied me over the stool so that my ass was pointing straight up in the air. “Now, you understand, this pin is going in all the way” he said with glee. “I mean, the whole damn thing.”
I felt my head swim. I was sick with fear.
“ Oh . . . boy? I’m just messing with you.” Brian doubled over laughing, then untied me from the stool, still gleeful. He was so pleased with himself that he tickled my feet with the stiff-bristled brush for the next hour, until I thought I would pass out, and made me lick his feet clean, but at least he never touched the bowling pin. When he told the other guys about how he’d faked me out, they all thought it was hilarious too, and the bowling pin was hung up in the dorm room as a decoration.
I still haven’t told you much about Hank. It took me awhile to figure Hank out. For the first several months, if the other guys were the “bad cops,” Hank was definitely the “good cop.” He was the cutest guy in the world, a strawberry blond with a real nice face and nice blue eyes. Certainly Hank tormented me along with the other guys, but he always seemed to do it with a little less enthusiasm; when he paddled me, he did it a little gentler than everyone else. He taunted me less. He didn’t make me give him too many blowjobs and he usually counted the ones I gave him, and when he didn’t it was always in an “aww shucks, gee I’m sorry you messed up on that one, I feel bad for you” kind of way. He did make me give him lots of foot massages, but he usually let me get comfortable on a couch or a rug first, whereas the other guys delighted in making me kneel or making me lie flat on the ground and mashing my face down with their sweat soaked socks.
Anyway, for all these reasons, I trusted Hank more than the other guys. And Hank and I began to talk occasionally, just every now and then, when the other guys weren’t around. As their foot slave, not only taking all their abuse and constantly servicing them, but also doing all their homework and trying just barely to keep afloat in all my own classes (although of course, because I had to skip class whenever Carl or one of the other guys ordered me to, my grades were in a sorry state) I had no time for a social life of any kind whatsoever; my entire universe of human interaction became my five abusive foot masters. I was therefore enormously relieved to have someone, anyone, with whom I could talk.
Hank told me about his life and his friends. One on one, he seemed really nice. I returned the favor. A few times, after particularly vicious nights (after Brian’s “interrogation” which I already told you about, after Danny fucked me with the large painful dildo for two hours straight, after Joey made me give his little high school brother a foot massage and then paddled me and tickled me just to impress this 16-year old, after Carl made me sleep in a garbage can) I broke down completely in front of Hank. Hank hugged me and let me cry on him.
On one of these nights, when I was feeling particularly vulnerable, Hank confided to me that he had always had a petrifying, consuming fear of drowning. Then he asked me if I was terrified of anything in the same way. I made the big, big mistake of admitting that I was terrified by heights.
The day after that, I thought I saw all the guys smirking more than they usually did, but at the time thought it was just my imagination. Then, that weekend, Hank told me we were all going to take a roadtrip. I asked him where. He just smirked at me, looking much more like one of the other four guys.
They made me ride on the car floor of course, and took turns making me lick their sweaty feet. As I licked Hank’s feet, I whispered to him urgently that I needed to go to the bathroom and that I was getting car sick. Hank smirked again. “Hey, guys, fucko here’s getting car sick and he’s about to pee himself.” He paused. “I guess we better stick him in the trunk.” They all laughed and stopped the car to do just that. Hank told me that if I pissed myself, I’d be sorry, and slammed the trunk closed.
I lay in the dark wondering why Hank had suddenly turned against me. I didn’t have long to find out.
Our destination was a big field miles away from the city. It seems one of their friends was a hot air balloon owner, and he had left a hot balloon set up in this field for the five guys to use. It seems, however, that they didn’t tell their friend about the sixth passenger they would have along.
Hank pulled me out of the car. “See, boy, I made a bet with the guys here. The bet was that if I acted all nice and sweet to you, you’d be dumb enough to tell me something really stupid. Well, the other day, you did, and I won the bet. And to celebrate, I thought we’d go for a little hot balloon ride.”
The idea of a hot balloon ride alone was enough to make me almost faint. But it was even worse than I imagined. Hank had rigged up a little harness for me that dangled off one side of the balloon. They strung me into the harness by my ankles, so I was hanging off the side of the basket, my head down, my feet up. Before we took off, they each took turns listening to me grovel hysterically, begging them to let me just ride in the basket. After they’d listened to me beg for a while, Hank told me there was nothing I could do. I was to dangle there calmly thank them: “Thank you for allowing me this wonderful opportunity masters!” If I couldn’t, Hank told me, he had brought a hair brush with which to tickled the soles of my feet.
The hot air balloon ride lasted for most of the afternoon, and was possibly the worst afternoon of my life. I couldn’t stop screaming, first because of the height and the fact that I was dangling upside down out of an airborn basket, and then later because Hank started tickling my feet and wouldn’t stop. “You know, if you want me to stop tickling you, I could just release your feet,” Hank taunted me. Finally, because I wouldn’t stop shrieking, he hauled me up into the balloon, gagged me with both his socks, then dropped me back over the side of the basket and continued to tickle me.
When we finally landed, Hank still wasn’t done with me. When I had talked to Hank earlier, I had broken down several times crying, I was told. This clearly wasn’t allowed under Carl’s rules. I had to be punished.
Well, I was. First, Hank made me lick his feet and give him a free blowjob (one that didn’t count). Then, with the other guys egging him on, Hank tied me to the back of the car and said he had decided to make me walk all the way back to school behind the car as punishment. The drive there had taken over an hour; they crawled back toward campus for the next four hours, each taking turns at the wheel, driving incredibly slowly still quite briskly by walking standards. By dusk we were still not home and I was completely wiped out. Hank wanted to make me keep going; it was Carl who finally took pity on me and let me come back into the car. The rest of the trip back, everyone kept laughing about how dumb I had been to trust Hank.
Hank had said that in getting me to trust him, he had “won a bet.” Part of what he won through the bet was the right to take me bar-hopping with him every Friday night for the next several months. This was pure hell; Hank would make me do things in public, just for the kick of it. Not only would I have to lick his feet in front of everyone, to the amazement and laughter of everyone around him, I would then have to enthusiastically offer my services to anyone else in the bar who wanted it. This became so regular at one particular gay bar Hank enjoyed going to that the bar tender began to tell all his customers about me, and each Friday night the crowd was larger and larger. By the end, it was like doing a show; I would enter, dressed in just a speedo, Hank holding me on a leesh. Everyone would gasp and cheer. Hank would proudly illustrate how I could be told to do anything; lie down, sit, kneel, lick feet, massage feet, give blowjobs. Then he would turn the crowd loose on me, urging them to test the limits of my obedience. The only thing they couldn’t do was make me have actual sex or remove me from the room. At that bar, I probably gave a hundred more blow jobs, and did any number of other things to me. One night Hank told everyone how ticklish I was; the next minute I found myself strapped down to a pool table by eight horny guys, gagged with a pool ball and mercilessly worked over.
Using me as his boy-toy, Hank impressed quite a few other guys at these bars, and usually left with another man in tow. When this happened, Hank made me “warm up” his new find by serving him – sometimes through blow jobs although with the strict rule that I was never to allow Hank’s “date” to cum. Hank wanted that job himself. Frequently, I just lay on the floor while Hank had sex, then immediately approached Hank and the other guy as soon as they were finished to massage their feet, lick them clean of their cum, and generally help out with post-sex operations. One Friday night, Hank’s “date” asked if he could spank Hank. He said it was a big turn on for him. Lying lazily on the couch, Hank told him to spank me instead. “He loves it,” Hank said.
I never told you whether or not I made my required 500 blowjobs in time to be released from my service on schedule.
Well, the 300 blowjobs I was required to give to Danny, Hank, Joey and Brian was no problem, mostly because, even with all my disqualified blowjobs, Danny was such an addict.
The 200 I had to give Carl was a different story. By December 1, the last month of my service, I still owed Carl over 30. Every day, I tried to knock off my remaining jobs. “Please, let me go down on your large, juicy cock, sir!” I told him, knowing this was how he liked to be asked. But Carl enjoyed crushing my last remaining shred of dignity by making me beg him to humiliate me first. For that last month, before I could so much as touch his cock, I had to ask Carl to do a few things for me. “Please, tickle me until I piss myself, sir!” he would make me shriek. “Please, string me up by my ankles in your cage, sir!” “Please, jump up and down on my with your large bare feet, sir!” “Please, spank me until my ass is red, sir!” “Please let me lick the lint from between your toes, sir!”
Even then I didn’t finish. Carl said he would excuse the remaining ones . . . provided that I endured one final trial. My five masters made me lie down in front of them. They each wacked off and came on me, five streams of cum pouring onto my back and torso. They smeared the cum around my body with their feet, then made me stand up.
“ Stay there for the next twenty four hours days,” Carl ordered me, “and don’t move a muscle, or I’ll make you serve me next year too.”
“ Yes sir, thank you sir!”
“ What’s that boy?”
“ THANK YOU SIR! THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO STAND HERE COVERED IN YOUR CUM! IT’S NO MORE THAN I DESERVE! I AM YOUR WORTHLESS FOOT SLAVE!”
All of them laughed and laughed.
