He didn’t look like some high schooler who had lied about his age to gain entrance into the army, but more like some MIDDLE-schooler! It took thrice-checked documents to prove that the boy was actually eighteen years old. He was a short, baby-faced, amber-haired kid whose penchant for S&M belied his angelic looks. He was a beautiful youth with a boyish chest, long legs, beautiful sea green eyes and a figure that most women would die for. But having beautiful hair, seductive sea green eyes, smoth chest and sleek thighs didn't mean he desired the attention he commanded.

In fact, what Herman Sturm (‘Sturm’ actually means ‘Storm’ in German) desired was to BE commanded. Commanded by a strong man ... or even strong MEN. Before joining the military, he'd had a hard time expressing what he wanted from the person he would give his heart and soul to. Submissives often have a great trouble telling their desired "masters" what they want. For some of them it has to do with the fact that they don't really know what they want. Or, perhaps, they know how they want to feel, but they aren't sure what it is that will make them feel that particular way.

Generally submissives do have at least some idea of what they want, but often they're too self-conscious to be able to tell someone directly. Then there are some who know what they want but feel as if it spoils things if they have to ask for it. They want the stimulus for the scene to come from the person they desire to submit to, you see. If they ask for something, then it's as if they're controlling the scene ... when what they want is for the control to come from their intended master.

Herman had heard rumors about certain military men. He actually enlisted in hopes of locating one of the men he'd heard rumors about. He also hoped to be trained as a particular kind of slave. A slave to be tickle-torture in bondage by a master who enjoyed probing and utilizing the severest forms of total body tickling and foot torment within other discipline or other S/M play ... someone to fully break him down and weaken him so that he could then obediently serve his master as he saw fit.

In the military Herman Sturm discovered that he had no trouble at all locating a man who would take control of him without a molecule of timidity or uncertainty. In the Deserts of the Middle Eastern nation of Khandaq ... on the American base that had been built there ... Sturm had two masters. The first, Jeff Romita, actually lost this beautiful slaveboy after he figuratively placed the young man's services on the betting table in a heated card game.

The game took place on the floor in the latrine. There were six players, no chips, just cash and personal items of value ... including Herman. Within an hour, the officer of the day came in and caught the players. He smugly said, "Oh, so you guys don't have enough to do around here, huh?"

And he immediately put all of the poker players on three days of KP.

KP was the most miserable duty in the Army, and this duty had been taken away from soldiers decades earlier ... but unfortunately the officer of the day was no clock watcher. When soldiers pulled KP on his watch they had to be in the mess hall at 4 a.m., and scrub floors and wash pots and pans until about 10 p.m.

Because of the uniqueness of the game and the three days of pulling KP, that game stood out to Private Virgil Johnston more than any other in his poker career. It was the only time he played poker in the Army. And another thing he'll always remember is that he beat the game for $40 and won the slaveboy named Herman Sturm. The boy looked like pure jailbaity inappropriateness, but everyone assured Johnston that the lad was indeed eighteen.

Eventually Virgil was satisfied that the slave was legal, and he had all kinds of plans for his beautiful prize …for he was a foot and tickle fetishist.

In his mind he saw himself (oddly enough) at Herman's feet and sadistically informing him that he planned to make him his tickle slave. Herman would beg him not to tickle him as he pulled off his combat boots and socks, thus revealing his feet. He'd then grab hold of Herman's right toes and pull them back. Next he'd start to tickle his right foot and he'd begin to laugh hysterically. He'd repeat the process on his left foot. He'd continue to cruelly tickle torture Herman till the lad actually passed out!

As it turns out, a slave was the best thing the young man did while in the military.

By all accounts Herman was a terrible soldier back then, garnering so many punishments that he was often forced to remain in the base camp when everyone else went home for the weekend. In a book review in the Falcon Rock Tribune, author Sgt. Ronald Von Braun sums up his sentiment about the Herman Sturm; "I hope other soldiers can learn Herman's WHOLE story ... not just that he was won in a poker game or lived as a barefooted slave to another solider. Herman was a wonderful person and he deserves to be better known. I want to tell his story."

"Herman, take your socks off and hand them to me." Said Virgil Johnston, the soldier who had won the amber-haired young man in the poker game.

Herman didn't think twice about it. Virgil was rumored to be a secret destroyer of slaveboys, and the amber-haired lad didn't want the faintest possibility that the brawny taskmaster would turn on him. He'd never seen Virgil like this before, and it scared him terribly. So Herman plopped down on the floor, pulled off his boots, stripped the socks off his feet and handed them to the harsh muscled man with the well-known foot/tickle fetish. "Good boy. I want you barefoot whenever you're around me."

"Yes, Master Virgil. I--."

"Call me 'Papa'."

"Yes, Papa ... whenever I'm around you I'll be your barefooted little boy."

The muscled man placed the boy's sweaty socks to his nose and inhaled deeply. The odor wasn't raunchy like a grown man's foot odor, but more adolescent-on-the-verge-of-manhood and exotically arousing. The sock smell only enhanced Virgil's admiration for his slave's slender feet and sweet-looking young toes and tender soles.

He ordered Herman, who was seated on the floor, to place both of his bare feet in his lap. When the amber-haired lad complied Virgil attacked his naked feet with the gusto of a madman, inhaling their combat boot-scented fragrance, licking their salty sweat, wedging his tongue between his toes to sample their taste, and sucking on each well-shaped digit.

"I'm glad you are pleased master, I mean Papa," Herman commented as he looked up at the muscled man for approval. He was still seated on the floor with his bare feet elevated and propped in Virgil Johnston' lap. "Thank you for cleaning my unworthy feet with your magnificent tongue."

"I love the sweaty taste of my slaveboy's toes ... yes I do!" Virgil stated, his voice reflecting complete and utter sincerity. When he was done with the lad's feet, he ordered Herman to strip completely naked. The young man complied obediently.

And so it began.

"HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!" the youth squealed in between laughs as his master immediately seized his naked body and began to tickle it all over with rapidly roving fingers. "Stop!!!! Stop Papa! PLEASE" he pleaded.

"Haha, such impudence from a slave! Assuming that I'll put a halt to MY pleasure to indulge YOUR comfort! But hey ... I'll stop if you promise you'll be my slave forever ... even when our tour of duty here is over!" He compromised.

"NO!!!" the lad laughed as he continued to tickle the naked, fair-skinned eighteen-year-old.

"Okay ... it's your choice, slave!" he said, "So, even if I was to do this..." Virgil told him as he reached for his ribs and began to tickle them double-time. Then he tickled his firm, bare breasts. He collapsed to the floor, the tickles actually sapping his strength.

"EEEEEEP!!!! PAPA!!! NOOOOO!!! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!"

He broke away from his master and stood up, but was so weakened from the tickling that he couldn't even begin to think about running. He was still laughing without his master even touching him! Virgil moved forward. All ten fingers wiggling menacingly. Every step he took towards his slave caused the amber-haired lad to laugh louder.

He had the cutest laugh. Clear as a bell and about as musical. He wanted to really see how ticklish he was! When he ventured within grabbing range he tried to protect his sides by pinning his arms by his sides, but that simply provoked his master into tickling his tummy! He laughed harder and began to walk backwards. Eventually he backed himself against one of the shelter's plywood walls, and now he was at Virgil Johnston's mercy! Which was either a fantastic or hellish place to be depending upon how much torture you could tale … and how pleasurable you found said torture.

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE NO PAPA!!!!! PLEASE!!!! NO MORE!!! NO HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE MORE!!!!" the youth screamed.

But by now it was more than a little clear that pleading for mercy wasn't going to stop Virgil. His master continued to tickle his tummy, ribs and sides and he laughed hysterically. He began to tickle Herman harder and he hunched over and fell to the ground again, cackling his cute amber-thatched head off. He sat on top of him and he wiggled under his tickling fingers. He tried to curl up in a ball, but Virgil simply wouldn't allow that.

"hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe no more...! " Herman gasped.

Finally, when his fair-skinned slave's sea green eyes began to roll in his head and he came close to passing out, Virgil stopped tickling Herman and he was allowed to get dressed and leave.

Well ...make the attempt at least.

His fully dressed slave was about to leave the plywood shelter when Virgil realized that, though he'd orally worshipped the boy’s beautiful feet, he hadn't spent much time tickling them. So he ordered Herman Sturm back to his side. Then he ordered him to lay on the floor of the shelter with the boy’s now booted feet in his lap while he sat in the makeshift room's only chair.

Virgil heard him sobbing when he started to unlace one combat boot. After the unlacing was done, he grabbed the heel of the boot and tugged it off his slender socked foot. He begged for mercy as he felt the other boot come off. His master pulled it and the socks off his feet and tossed them into the corner. Now he had a good look at his bare feet again. They were so cute. Herman's well-shaped little toes looked so adorable. And the way he scrunched those toes, Virgil knew he was about to put him through hell. He just couldn't wait any longer. He began to dance his fingers up the length of his right foot. And just as he thought, his beautiful amber-haired slaveboy went spastic!

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA PLEASE!!!! MASTER ... I MEAN, PAPA STOP!! PLEASE NO STOP!!! STOP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Ah, that sweet laughter. Virgil continued to stroke his smooth soft arch, then his fingers discovered the warm soft undersides of his cute toes. When he tickled those toes his back arched up off the ground. This felt so wonderful! He continued to tickle his foot and especially these sweet little toes for a while. He lost track of time. His eyes caught his other foot wiggling and he simply had to play with that one too. His soles were pinker than his golden-tanned tops and looked almost as if they were glowing with ticklishness.

He tickle-ravaged those soles and the poor eighteen-year-old slaveboy didn't have a chance. He laughed so hard Virgil thought he would faint at any moment. He lightly tickled the ball of Herman’s foot and the lad giggled like a maniac. Virgil absolutely loved the soft, warm feeling of the skin between his slave’s cute toes. He dug his fingers deep into the boy’s toe crevices and his fair-skinned slave flushed a rosy pink and just laughed and laughed and laughed. The Master adored the way the slave’s toes wiggled. He truly, madly and deeply loved this beautiful boy's equally beautiful toes!

He then put his big toe in his mouth and he nearly went through the shelter's plywood roof! Virgil sucked his big toe hard, and lapped away at his other toes. Herman's man-nips had visibly hardened and eventually his laughter subsided and his master thought he heard his moan a little. Ticklishness had given way into complete sexual arousal as his master continued to suck his toes while using his fingers to tickle his foot.

"....NOOOOO PAPA......HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IT TICKLES!!!! PLEASE STOP IT!!! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE I CAN'T TAKE IT! PLEASE!!!" He pleaded as he continued to tickle the laughing slaveboy on the shelter floor. Virgil then got down on that floor himself and proceeded to tickle his tummy, underarms, feet ... everything!

He didn't stop until Herman did faint.

"Sorry about this, boy." The brawny taskmaster said as he proceeded to cradle-carry the unconscious body of Herman Sturm into a nearby bungalow and tossed the senseless eighteen-year-old atop one of the many aligned beds. Yes Virgil could have simply ordered the youth to go into the bungalow after he revived, but he liked the feel of a limp, helpless body in his arms.

Nuzzling his nose down from Herman's cheek to the curve of his soft neck, he fluttered hard kisses across the senseless youth's jawbone and tenderly sucked at the sweet, pale flesh of his throat...

Then he suddenly withdrew as a flash of clarity struck him.

He was now kissing the unconscious Herman like there was no tomorrow and in a bungalow that ANYONE had access to! He really did like living dangerously. He arranged the unconscious boy on the bed more comfortably after removing his shirt. Then, after retrieving the necessary paraphernalia, began tenderly washing the lad's smooth chest with a wet cloth.

As the muscled man continued to rub the cloth against the slaveboy's smooth chest, he saw the unconscious lad's man-nips stiffen a bit. Virgil looked at the boy's beautiful face as he continued to sleep soundly. He then threw the cloth on the floor and brought his tongue to the knocked out eighteen-year-old's right nipple.

He was delighted at how stiff the nipple was and earnestly began sucking it inside his mouth. He continued to suckle the nip with his mouth as he caressed his growing member in his own pants. The amber-haired lad remained unconscious as his brawny master began to sweetly have his way with his body. After a few minutes, Virgil stood up and opened the fly of his camouflaged pants. As he freed his hard and pulsating dick, he smiled to himself.

He masturbated thinking of ways in which he could further abuse his slaveboy's body. He salivated with lust as his eyes studied Herman's naked form. The lad's skin was like pure smooth ivory and flawless. His baby-face more than handsome. So, innocent with his neatly shaped amber-colored brows, long eyelashes, perfect lips and beautiful point nose. The master couldn't control himself, he needed to press his lips against this knocked-out angel and taste his dear sweet lips.

As the muscled man's nose neared the slaveboy's partly opened mouth, he said to himself he'd never smelled anything so sweet before that didn’t have a pussy. Tentatively, he brushed his lips to Herman's. He quivered from excitement as he tasted the lad's honey-like lips. He pressed his mouth more and began to snake his tongue inside his slave's mouth. Soft moans began to escape from the boy that made the master pause.

He looked at boy's face and saw that his eyes were still shut. Thinking that the slave would wake up soon, he immediately put his plan into action. He began to tug down the amber-haired slaveboy's pants. Slowly, he pulled these camouflaged trousers down. A few inches away from the lad's waist, the master was happy to see that the slave wasn't wearing underwear and that pubes were cream-soaked.

Virgil went down to the bottom of the mattress and kissed the unconscious lad’s bare toes. Herman Sturm’s soles were smooth and tender ... his toes, adorable and shapely, never ceased to fascinate him. He also had nice heels and a well-defined high arches. He continued kissing his toes, drawing each one into his mouth and thoroughly bathing them with his tongue. Soft chuckling sounds came from Herman, telling the muscled man that the lad was waking up again. He kissed and massaged and tongue-tickled his way all over the slaveboy's feet.

"Nohohoho plehehehease don'thahaat Papa! Don't tickle meheeheheee!" Herman exclaimed, awakening and trying to twist his body away.

After a few minutes of sucking, licking, kissing and tickling, master and slave were both on the brink of cumming. But it was then that Virgil noticed that Privates Lamar Granger, Andrew Fuller and Herman's former owner, Jeffery Romita, had entered the bungalow. The grunts had been watching Virgil and Herman for who knows how long ... and now wanted in on the fun.

And they got in on it too!

Herman Sturm's beautiful face turned red when he saw the look in their eyes. The eighteen-year-old slaveboy clenched his toes in anticipation. Then, deciding that four brutes were a bit much, he leaped off the bunk with a slap of bare feet against the floor and made an attempt at fleeing.

All four soldiers tackled him to the bungalow floor and he was already laughing before impact. Soon he felt Virgil's nails scratching up and down his soles. Immediately he burst out into a fit of laughter as the master ran his fingers all along his bare soles. Then Andy, Lamar and Jeffery joined in to get their share. Andrew Fuller furiously tickled his ribs stroking and caressing the boy's tummy and cute outtie bellybutton. Andy actually blew raspberries on his tummy making the slaveboy arch his back and squeal with insane laughter. Herman attempted to fight but Jeff held his arms.

Lamar tossed Virgil a hairbrush (from Jeff's arsenal of tickle tools he always carried in case Herman ever fell back into his possession) while he himself began using a feather between the slaveboy's cute toes. His master delighted in running that brush-bristles around the smooth navel while the beautiful lad swung his amber head back and forth in unbelievably ticklish torment. He brushed fast, then slow, then fast, then slow and so on.
They were quadruple-teaming Herman and the eighteen-year-old was in a sorry state. All that could be heard was, "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASEEEEEEEEEEE, STOHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! HAHAHAH!!! NO!! STOAHAHAHAH, OOOOOOOOOO PLEASE STOP THIS!!! STOOOP! I CAN’T TAKE THIS! I CAN’T TAKE THIS! PLEASE STOP!!! STOOOOOOOOOOPPP!!!! STOOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..."

Virgil lay back, stretching along his side so his face was at his slave's bare feet. Gently attacking the boy’s soles with his fingernails. He also nibbled on Herman’s toes. Hysterical laughter flowed from the lad's wiggly body--even from the deep recesses of his soul! Andy continued to run his nails in the deep delicate arches and clearly enjoyed the sounds of unmitigated laughter he was hearing. But when Virgil's nibbling combined with Andy's fingers tickling the soft warm undersides of Herman's toes, they were rewarded with gut-wrenching, pure unadulterated, almost animalistic howls of insane laughter. They saw Herman's body squirm and writhe all over the place, but was absolutely helpless to avoid having his feet tickled because Jeffery was securely holding his wrists.

Virgil stopped nibbling the boy’s toes and worked on attacking Herman’s pads with his thumbnails. Andrew Fuller, of course, made sure he tickled each and every soft toe crevice, the balls of both feet, the delicate arches and even tickled the lad's heels. Herman must have thought he was in an afflictive hell. Indeed he was feeling the tickling fingers probe every inch of his sensitive feet, and just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Virgil resumed nibbling his toes! Jeffery Romita had an artful way of tickling with his mouth as well, but his current master was simply ... the master! Virgil’s teeth ravenously nipped around his young slave's toes, while Lamar and Andy's fingers tickled his soles.

"Stooooooooooooooooop.....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHA!!!!!! OH PLEASE HAVE MERCY!!! PLEASE HAHAHAHAHA STOP THIS PLEASE!!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Virgil did pause for a moment, facing Herman Sturm's sensitive soles when the lad began to lose consciousness. He watched the dazed eighteen-year-old and listened to his weak pleading, which seemed to make the lusty fire in his blood burn that much hotter. He used his thumbs to massage the young slaveboy's feet yet again ... and wasn't surprised when his sea green eyes rolled back in his head and the boy passed out.

Lamar, Jeffery and Andy departed soon after ... but the eighteen-year-old's master was still hot and insatiably horny.

Sighing, Virgil pulled the sleeping boy's trousers down all the way. His penis was beautiful--deep pink and gleaming wet. And it looked as if it were actually getting hard right before his eyes despite the fact that its owner was out cold! Herman’s pubes were wet with his secretions. Eventually the Master leaned over and smelled the young musk emanating from his slaveboy's unit, and then began to lick that unit—the penis, the ballsack and everywhere surrounding them. As he licked, the knocked-out boy's now erect began to involuntarily dribble more wet, gooey candy. The brawny taskmaster licked and sucked Herman Sturm's tool and then began to lick up all the ropes of cream it produced, making himself hotter and hotter all the while.

Eventually Virgil groaned loudly as he shot his own load all over the unconscious Herman--hot man cum splattering all over his insensible slaveboy's fair bare skin.

When the eighteen-year-old began to regain consciousness the muscled man traced the slave's wet penis with his fingers and continued to knead and nudge it playfully. Then he ran his hand down between Herman's legs and pushed softly between his butt cheeks. That's when the lad awoke.

And he awoke just in time for him and his master to move their action to the other side of the bungalow ... near medical supplies which included liquid ether.

Upon forcing his slaveboy to crawl across his lap Virgil worked a finger around and into the lad’s tight asshole and then ordered his to suck him off. After he shot a load down the amber-haired lad's throat, he clamped an ether-soaked cloth over Herman's unsuspecting face and waited. Almost immediately Herman's sea green eyes fluttered and then closed. He was out again. Then the muscled master ran his hand down between the boy’s creamy white legs. He looked up at his slaveboy's beautiful sleeping young face. No change. He was under too deeply to react.

When Herman finally did awaken, he was so enraged that Virgil had used a chemical to render his unconscious that he FORGOT that he was the muscled man's slave.

As punishment for forgetting, Virgil bent his slave's slender body over a gasoline barrel. Then he lubed up his rock-hard dick with spit and rammed it into Herman's anus in one brutal thrust. The muscled man even grabbed hold of the boy’s balls and massaged them while he fucked the lad’s ass ... or rather Herman fucked himself on Virgil's dick since he did all the moving--caressed his brawny GI master with the backs of his thighs and jutting his ass forward and back. All the while he groaned in both pleasure and pain.

Herman Sturm soon began to more outwardly cry out in pain/pleasure as Virgil repeatedly rammed into him, fast and furiously--his thighs pounding viciously against the slaveboy's bruised ass. Herman met each of his thrusts with howls of painful ecstasy, and as the muscled man emptied his load into his posterior, the amber-haired eighteen-year-old blew his load once again before collapsing in a dead faint over the barrel!

There would be many storms during the war in the desert nation of Khandaq, but none like the ones created by the lovemaking of Virgil Johnston and the slaveboy whose surname actually meant ‘storm’!