PART ONE

It was a typical rainy Sunday afternoon and I was ensconced in my comfortable chair with my feet resting on the accompanying hassock, while my son Ryan was stretched out, barefoot as always, on the couch his attention on his phone and some new game or other.  Ryan is 23, 5’8”, 130 lbs., with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes, and size 8 feet.  His mother and I had divorced when he was 11 because she learned of my intense foot fetish and rather active life in the bdsm\kink scene.  And for the better part of a decade and out of anger towards her, I disappeared from his life.  Two years ago, my now remarried ex-wife was vacationing with her new husband on a cruise to the Bahamas when, in a drunken stupor she stupidly and drunkenly climbed atop an outer deck railing attempting to walk across it to show her balance and dexterity and promptly fell to her death in the ocean.   I attended the funeral and that’s how Ryan came back into my life and came to be living with me. And how began my secret agony of having his bare feet around me all the time, so near and so out of reach.  Or so I thought.

Over our time together, we were able to bridge and heal the distance that I had inflicted upon him and we grew close.  I frequently took him out for dinner and we generally hung out at the house a lot of the time.  We each maintained a bit of a private life, him with dating girls (although he did share with me his experiences and ask for guidance and advice); me, with my occasional forays into bdsm and kink especially as related to tickling, bondage and all things foot related.  For longer than Ryan was alive, I had always had an intense interest in tickling and had evolved into quite an accomplished tickler and ultimately a Dom, especially when my interests started to include bondage and edging with the tickling.  I had met quite a few younger ticklees who seemed to want and need an older tickler in order to be satisfied over the years through the app RETRO, which I had checked often even after Ryan moved into the house with me. It was these younger guys who got me interested in “pup play” with the pup hood and all that pup play entailed.  After one particularly intense session with a younger guy, I had purchased a neoprene pup hood for myself and had tried it on, but never really followed through with doing anything submissive, pup hood or no.  So there were occasional nights when I told him I had a work-related issue to take care of and I would spend the night away from home so I could meet up with someone in a hotel for a night of foot worship and tickling pleasure. 

As I mentioned, for all my years as a Dom, I had never really experienced any desire to be a sub, much preferring to have my feet worshipped while dominating and binding and tickling and milking my younger subs.  Shortly after moving in, Ryan started to remove his shoes and socks right after coming home.  Initially, I was a little paranoid figuring that perhaps my ex wife had told him something and he was just trying to test me to see if it was true.  Seeing his smaller feet, with their nicely shaped arches and toes, made me instantly distracted as well as desirous of seeing if they were ticklish.  One night as he threw himself onto the couch in a depressed state due to a date which had turned out badly, I sat down quickly and put his bare feet in my lap and began to gently massage them in order to soothe him.  He enjoyed the massage as we talked about what had happened with the girl and once he began to feel better I decided to tickle his feet which, as it turned out, were extremely ticklish.  After that time, I decided not to pursue anything again, for fear of alienating Ryan.  

And so my private torment continued daily as we spent time together; him barefoot as always and me stealing discrete glances and being tormented into a horny stupor.  During the warmer months he usually spent all night on the enclosed back porch drinking and watching movies and often falling also in the two cushioned Adirondack chairs with matching hassocks.  It was nice to be able to glance over at Ryan’s bare feet as he dozed and secretly want to touch them again as I did on that one occasion. 

One night after we had each had a bit of wine, I let slip just how much I liked it when he was barefoot around me.  I don’t remember how it came up or what the topics was we were discussing, but it came out and he seemed surprised if, now in hindsight, a bit amused.  I noticed that but wasn’t brave enough to pursue it or to ask him to confirm my observation.

Come to think of it, there were a few occasions where I had made similar comments reinforcing for him my preference that when at home, he should be barefoot.  And Ryan willingly obeyed, as my private torment continued.

I often enjoyed our time in the living room; me in my club chair with hassock and him sprawled out on the couch, his bare feet exposed for me to stare at discretely.  Often we would each be on our phones; him texting or playing a game and me on RETRO responding to or sending a message. 

On late Sunday afternoon as we each dozed in our places in the living room, I was startled awake when the RETRO app on my phone chimed. Someone had sent me a message.  I glanced over and saw Ryan casually looking at his phone.  As I logged onto the app and checked me message he glanced over and then casually placed the phone on his chest and lay back down on the pillow and closed his eyes.   I glanced at the message. It was someone I didn’t know with the name “da_king”.  His profile didn’t have much other info other than the words “ticklish smaller younger outgoing guy with insanely ticklish feet”.  And all his message said was “Really hot profile.  What would you do to my feet if I let you? How far would we want to go?  Hmu”

I had gotten flirtatious messages like this from younger guys and usually gave a general answer depending on how horny or tired or interested I was.  This message had only just caught my attention so I merely responded “Thanks for the kind words.  Love insanely ticklish feet.  Sir would do everything you could ever possibly want or desire and go so far as to turn you into a horny quivering mess. Hmu only if you’re serious.  Not into bullshit time wasters.”   I hit “Send” and exited the app.  As I put my phone down on the table, Ryan’s phone chimed.  He opened his eyes and glanced over at me as I closed my eyes and rested my head in the back of the chair.  He glanced at his phone and read whatever message he had gotten, then put the phone back on his chest and smiled as he closed his eyes and we both drifted back to sleep.

An hour later, I got up to use the bathroom and as I walked past Ryan on the couch, he was asleep on his back with his bare feet resting on a pillow at the opposite end.   I passed… and as I passed, I looked down at his magnificent plump toes and his meaty soles.  I wanted more than anything to get down on my knees and slowly kiss and lick and worship his feet.  Fearing I would get caught standing there staring at my sleeping son’s feet I beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom to relieve myself.  When I got back, Ryan was awake and sitting up on the couch, his bare feet tucked discretely underneath himself.  He was looking at his phone and chuckling quietly to himself in a very pleased way.

One Sunday, as we were both in our usual chairs in the living room, Ryan laying on the couch, his bare feet exposed to my discreet glances, he suddenly stood up and excused himself. He came back several later holding something in his left hand.  He walked around to the front of the couch and as he stopped, he slowly turned to me and tossed something over the me as he sat down, saying as he did so, “I found something [that] earlier when I was cleaning out some of the dresser drawers.”  I caught the object, and was only mildly surprised at what I held in my hand.  It was a black neoprene pup mask which I had purchased and occasionally used with some of my subs who wanted to explore pup play.  I glanced at it and then casually threw it back over to him, “Yeah….and?”   

Ryan leaned forward and caught it, frustrated that I hadn’t given any other explanation.

“Is it yours?” he asked, still holding the mask in his hand and studying it.

“Yeah,’ I answered casually, “do you even know what it is?”, intentionally trying to piss him off a little and get him to continue this conversation we were now having and which I knew one day would come.

“Yeah,” he replied, catching it, “It’s a pup play mask.”

“I’m surprised you’re familiar and even know what ‘pup play’ is.”  I chuckled.

He grinned and rolled his eye is mock exasperation, “Internet, boomer.” 

“Hey,” I objected, “knock that “boomer” shit off.”  We both laughed at the teasing.

Ryan lay back down on the pillow still holding the mask in his hands and studying it.  A brief silence followed as each of us were lost in our own thoughts.  I took the opportunity to test a theory I had been formulating.  I picked up my phone and casually logged into the RETRO app and found the message from “da_king” and wrote a one word message “test”, then hit SEND.  Instantly, Ryan’s phone chimed.  He glanced at his phone and then casually asked, “So you’ve worn this?”

I placed my phone on the table nearby and picked up my bottle of Gatorade and took a sip, “On occasion.”

He pondered my answer as he continued to turn the mask over and over in his hands.

He continued, “So, let me get this straight, you wear this and do what, like go around on all fours and like act like a dog and shit and like do dog stuff? Like lick toes and shit like Bessie, and lay at people’s feet?”   (Bessie was my French poodle who absolutely had a thing for guys’ feet and as Ryan found out shortly after moving in and starting to go around barefoot, really loved licking guys’ toes and would be quite insistent about getting her way; which when she did, would get comfortable and lick them for hours.  The only problem was most guys who visited had very ticklish feet and found a dog and a master both wanting to lick their ticklish toes just the other side of too fucking weird.)

I pretended to be caught off guard by the question and feigned pondering my response. “Hmm, I hadn’t realized Bess did that,” I lied.  We both knew I had lied but between this conversation and the RETRO messages we had sent, a bridge of communication and understanding was being built between us.

Ryan didn’t call me out on my lie and just let the comfortable silence continue between us as I pondered.  Then I took the plunge.  “Seems she has more in common with her master than I realized,” I said casually as I slowly rested my head on the headrest and closed my eyes, but not before I glanced over and saw Ryan’s head quickly turn to look at me in response.  Got him. He was definitely hooked now and was quickly trying to formulate his next move.  I smiled to myself and pretended to rest. 

It didn’t take long for him to launch the next volley in this verbal battle of wills.  After several moments of comfortable hospitable silence, he casually made the comment, “I know how it makes you happy when I walk around the house in my bare feet.”

“Mmmhmm,” I agreed, with my eyes closed. 

Then he went in for the kill.  I honestly was extremely impressed and aroused with his master stroke as he then casually continued, “Might make me happy, you wearing this and acting like a bigger older Bessie.”

END PART ONE