Part 1: A Foot Lunch

Jamie was a handsome man. He knew it, he never thought of it as his main advantage, and yet there it was. Twenty two years old, tall with brown hair and short beard, he caught eyes of many on the streets. His lovers, both male and female, tended to take a careful look at different parts of his body: slightly muscular arms, chest hair, long, well-shaped legs and manly yet delicate hands. The most peculiar were the ones who commented on his feet.

‘They’re one of the most delicate I ever tasted,’ told him a gay lover, Josh, with whom he spent a night every now and then during holidays in Rome. The man spent a lot of time slowly sucking on Jamie’s toes, kissing the tops of his feet and dancing with his tongue on Jamie’s fragile soles.

Were his feet that beautiful? He himself was not a fetishist, so he didn’t really know. Yet he took care of his 12 size babes, as Josh called them. His toes were well-manicured, pinkish under the nails, very delicate and clean in between. He often wore flip flops, which made them brown-tanned, and the hair on the tops were shining while touched by the sun. The skin on his soles, pink after the bath and orange after a long walk, was so fragile he could barely stend when Josh did as much as slightly touching it with his hand. Josh never tickled him, but Jamie thought he’d like to, as his eyes shone whenever Jamie smiled during a massage.

Now, Jamie wasn’t very fortunate lately. His father worked as a builder for a rich man who started to develop the industry in LA. The year was 2040 and as with the time rich men became richer, and poor men – poorer, a new kind of slavery emersed. It wasn’t, in fact, called slavery, but voluntary owning, but the reality was that once you signed yourself into it, you were someone’s own pet. A master could use your body in whatever way it pleased him.

A day came when Jamie’s father was so drained of any money, he decided to sell himself to become an Owned one. Hearing that, Jamie begged him never to do it. His tall son kneeled before his father.

‘Please, it’ll be better if you send me,’ he pleaded with him. ‘I’m younger. I’ll gain some cush. In three or four years I’ll be free, and we’ll have more money you could gain!’

The father said nothing. He knew it was true. How was he supposed to argue? He had to agree, and so Jamie was sent to the Owning market, when the Owners were picking his Owned. The male section was busy that day. Lots of handsome, young men were crowding on a big platform, where older, richer people were examining their look. The man were supposed to wear nothing except tongs in which to present to their future masters. They were made to stand barefoot with their naked toes tanning in the morning sun. Jamie, knowing his feet were considered one of his best parts, wiggled his toes and stretched them. Every now and then he scratched his leg with his toes, so that the Owners could see them in their own, moving glory.

There was a man who clearly examined the standing males’ toes before his eyes went up to see their bodies. He was about sixty, his hair was long and silver, he had sunglasses on his nose. He stopped at Jamie’s feet.

‘Hm,’ he said. ‘How old are you, boy?’

‘Twenty two, sir,’ Jamie answered obediently.

‘I see…’ The man was still looking at his feet. He wore gloves. Now he took off one of them and he touched Jamie’s top, drawing a serpentine movement from his ankle up to his second toe – the longest of all (Jamie had a Roman foot type).

It didn’t took long for the young man to be taken to a dark limousine. He didn’t even know the older one paying for him. He was just grabbed from the platform.

‘Give him sandals,’ the man ordered his bodyguards dressed in black suits waiting for him. ‘I won’t have these feet hurt or damaged.’

He smiled. ‘At least not yet,’ he added to himself, smiling diabolically.

Jamie didn’t know what it was supposed to mean, but he forgot about it in the limousine. He was seated on the backseat, near his new Owner. The Owner didn’t waste his time for any curtesy.

‘Lay here with you feet on my laps,’ he ordered Jamie.

‘Just like that, sir?’ the boy said, surprised.

‘Just like that,’ the Owner said softly.

Jamie did as he was told. His manly feet, tired after standing for so long, rested on the Owner’s laps hidden in silky trousers. The older man looked at the window. He seemed disinterested in Jamie’s feet, barely touching it with his gloved hands. After some time he started to massage them, tough, making Jamie moan with pleasure. The boy closed his eyes, when his master’s fingers tighten more and more boldly, yet not too strongly, on his feet. Suddenly he felt something wet, and he opened his eyes immediately.

‘W-what?’ he looked, shocked, as his Owner put the boy’s toes in his mouth and sucked them quietly.

The Owner didn’t answer. He seemed not to care about the boy, just his feet. He started with the pinky toe. He crumpled it as tough they were candies. His fingers massaged the other Jamie’s toes at the same time. The boy felt a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, when the master kissed the little toe and begun to suck the other one.

The journey to the Owner’s house took at least one hour. In this time, the man sucked and licked Jamie’s feet as though nothing else existed. He spent several minutes at each toe, kissing the tiptoes and touching them with his tongue. Then he moved to the soles. At first he smelled them. Jamie was sure that after that long time on a sunny market they would be sweaty, but it seemed that was just as the Owner loved them. He closed his eyes, put Jamie’s delicate soles on his face and inhaled the scent.

‘Lovely,’ he said, and suddenly looked at his golden watch. ‘It’s a lunch time, I guess.’

On of his bodyguards from the front seat gave him a small package. There were just some fruit: strawberries and blueberries there, and whipped cream in a spray. Jamie understood what the man wanted immediately.

He understood more than that. He knew it was his chance.

He started to wiggle his toes in a sexy way, and then he spread them, so that the Owner could do what he intended. Without a word, he started to put berries in between Jamie’s toes. The fruit was cold, so Jamie felt a mixture of tickling sensation and slight pain, but once the warm mouth of his master touched his toes again, it was all pleasure. Heaven!

Where was he? What was he? What a strange situation. The Owner was his master, yes. Jamie knew he needed to be obedient. But at the same time it was his feet that the master touched, licked and massaged!

The Owner used the whipped cream, and started to lick it from between Jamie’s toes. The cream melted in touch with the boy’s hot feet.

‘I love it,’ said the master. ‘Do you?’

‘I do,’ said Jamie sincerely. ‘I really do.’

The Owner cleaned his feet with his mouth, and then he put his sandals on Jamie’s feet again.

‘We’re nearly home,’ he said. ‘Your new home.’

The car stopped in front of an enormous villa. There was a swimming pool thrice as big as Jamie’s and his father’s flat. And there were some people, mostly young man, swimming there. One of them stood up, his body shining in full sun like that of a god, made Jamie tremble. With desire. And with panic.

He knew this tall, blond man. When he approached, Jamie’s Owner put his arm around him, and looking at Jamie, he said:

‘Meet my son, Josh.’

Part II

A ticklish punishment

Jamie was totally shocked learning he’d just become the Owned one of his gay lover’s father. It was embarrassing, especially that in their house, he was supposed to present almost totally naked except his tight tongs. His new master was expecting him always at lunch and dinner time, when he would eat accompanied by Jamie’s feet. He wouldn’t always eat from them, though. Often he just stared at them, eating slowly, when his Owned one was standing in front of him, asked to wiggle his toes. From time to time he would ask Jamie to stand on his toes, which was uncomfortable after a while, but the boy never complained.

He quite liked this new life. His Owner had the flat full of photos of male feet of different kind. It was very erotic and interesting at the same time.

‘Now I know why you loved my feet so much,’ said Jamie to Josh when they were both sitting by the swimming pool, alone.

Josh laughed, jumped into the water, and grabbed Jamie’s foot.

‘Maybe that’s our family business,’ he said, biting Jamie’s toes, slightly, with utmost caress, each toe at the time. Jamie laughed, when he moved his fingers across his delicate sole.

‘Josh, you’ve got no idea how happy I am you’re living here,’ he said.

‘Are you?’ said Josh, a mysterious smile dancing on his mouth. ‘My father is going out this night. Maybe you’d like to come to my room?’

Jamie only nodded, moaning when Josh started to worship his feet now, putting all the toes inside his mouth. It was difficult to wait for the night. Jamie wanted to have sex with Josh so badly, his cock was swollen. One of the rules of this house was not to cum unless allowed. And – with all the nice stuff here – that was something Jamie wasn’t allowed very often.

He knocked to the door of his lover. Josh was waiting for him in a dressing gown. There was a shining crystal chalice in his hand.

‘Come in,’ he said to Jamie.

The boy entered, his cock growing in his pants. He wanted to grab Josh at once, but that very moment the man threw his chalice on the flower. With a crack, it broke into several pieces.

‘Ooops,’ Josh said. ‘That was one of the favourite chalices of my father. He won’t be happy.’

Jamie couldn’t even guess how costly it must have been.

‘He won’t be pleased with you, Owned one,’ Josh said suddenly.

‘What?’ Jamie said, shocked. ‘But it was–’

‘Yeah, yeah, save the explanations for later,’ Josh cackled. ‘Because, you see,’ he added, standing up. ‘I’ll tell my father it was you, which means you’ll need to be punished. But, to save him his time, I can punish you myself, and we’ll call it a day.’

Jamie was looking at Josh still with shock. Josh was smiling devilishly.

‘Welcome to my bad,’ he said. ‘Lay now.’

Jamie didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t pay for the chalice, and his Owner would probably believe his son rather than him.

‘What are you gonna do?’ he asked, frightened.

‘Oh, we’ll just have some fun, won’t we?’ said Josh, pushing him on the bed.

When Jamie fell on the silky bedding, Josh started to tighten his hands to the bed. Doing that, he covered Jamie’s chest with kisses, and then, moving his mouth lower and lower, he started to taking care of Jamie’s feet.

‘Sweaty,’ he said, licking his big toe as though it was a penis. ‘Afraid, are we?’

Having said that, he took a rope, wrapped it around Jamie’s ankles, and then he tied his feet to the bed.

‘I love your smile, you know?’ Josh said. ‘Let me see it.’

Jamie said nothing, when Josh fingers touched his soles. His nails sunk in the fragile, reddish skin of the boy’s soles. The movement was gentle, just the slow moving of the fingers. Jamie suppressed laugh. Josh kissed one of his feet, while still caressing/tickling the other one. And then, without any warning, his fingers started to move quicker.

‘Oh, please!’ Jamie cried. ‘I can’t – I hate ticking! Ha ha ha.’

Josh was merciless. He never tickled his feet before, but now these babes were imprisoned him with little possibility to move, Jamie’s feet became his captives. He looked at boy’s face, red with laughter, as he made circles with his fingers all over Jamie’s soles. He didn’t spare the boy’s tiptoes, scratching him under the toes and between them, where the skin was most delicate. Jamie tried as he might to be free, but instead he was only screaming with laughter louder and louder. When Josh suddenly stopped, he was panting heavily.

‘My God … my God,’ he managed to mutter. ‘Please, don’t do it … no more … no more …’

‘And what about the punishment?’ Josh sounded surprised. ‘I haven’t started yet.’

‘What?!’ Jamie cried, panic reflecting in his eyes, as Josh approached the wardrobe and took a long box from it. Then he started to take out different stuff from it. There was a hairbrush, toothbrush and lots of different kinds of feathers.

‘Nooooo,’ Jamie was almost crying. ‘I beg you.’

‘Please do,’ Josh nodded. ‘I love to hear such a big man with sweaty feet begging as a little child.’

It was sure there will be no mercy whatsoever. Josh looked at Jamie’s feet as though they were his most precious treasures. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing them again. He licked and worshiped his feet, covering them with kisses, each toe that he tortured so much with tickling, was now caressed. Oh, if that could only last!

But it couldn’t. After a while Josh smiled again and he started counting out, looking at the feathers. He chose a long, white one.

‘Now, let’s see if the nerves of your feet work as they should. Now, that’s very important in this job, especially when you young, handsome men are alone with me.’

Jamie thought he didn’t have any more power to laugh. But was he mistaken! Just when the feather touched his heels, he giggled. Starting from there, Josh was going up through his wrinkling sole. The feather danced on them making Jamie beg and pant again.

‘So fragile!’ Josh laughed. ‘You’ll be my favourite ticklee!’

‘Oh-ahahahahahaha!’ It was making Jamie mad.

The worst were the toes. When the feather touched the areas in between them, going in and out, Jamie clenched them, but Josh forcibly made them spread to continue the torture. At one point he started to suck on the toes of one of the feet, tickling them with his teeth and tongue. The toes were tired and sweaty, but Josh didn’t want to stop yet. He took the toothbrush, electric one, and just turned it on.

It was pure horror. Even before Jamie touched wrinkled, reddish and sweaty soles, Jamie burst into laughter. But when it actually happened, he was tortured beyond his mind. He felt as though his feet were imprisoned in a tickling hell. His toes stretched in a way he never expected they could, he was trying to be free so badly that he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

‘I b-b-beeeeeg!’ he pleaded to no answer. Josh was only laughing.

And suddenly the door opened. The master came in, and he wasn’t very pleased.

‘Josh, what are you…’ He looked at Jamie on the bed. At first, he was shocked. Jamie hoped it meant that he’d be freed now. But then Jamie’s tickle-tortured feet got his attention. There was an immediate bump in the master’s pants. He looked at his son, and said:

‘What are you doing here without me? Do you mind if I join?’