Continued from "Messaging His Stepson's Feet" (1st part)
In between his grunts, gasps and shrieks of laughter, Chris managed to blurt, “That’s a total load of horse shit if I ever heard one!! HAWWWWWW!!!! You tricked me you son of bitch!! You only wanted to get me down here so you could tickle torture my damned feet!! HAAAAAAAA!!!”
“Tickle torture your sweet lotioned feet, Chrissy boy,” Jim said, stopped using his fingertips to tickle torture the bottoms of his stepson’s feet…
…reached into his front jeans’ pockets with one hand each, and brought out two small, flathead screwdrivers…
…typical construction worker tools…
…but in this case, those two screwdrivers were to be used as instruments of tickle torture on the restrained, college destined, ticklish, VERY ticklish young man…
When Chris saw the two screwdrivers and how his stepfather was about to press the flat-headed bottoms of them against the bottoms of his lotioned, and now, even sweat soaked feet, the young man cried out, “OH NO!!! NO!!! Jim, you wouldn’t!!!”
“Oh but I would Chrissy boy, I would,” Jim jeered and taunted the lad…
…and began cruelly trailing the bottoms of the flat-headed screwdrivers up and down the bottoms, over the arches and balls and heels of his stepson’s moist feet…
“YAHHHHHHH!!!!” was the sound Chris made this time…
…before he was off and metaphorically running on another uncontrollable laughing tirade…
“HAWWWWWWW!!! J-Jim, stop, please man, STOP!!!! HAAAAAAAA!!!” Chris roared, his entire body beginning to break out in sheening sweat at that point. “OH GOD!!!! HAWWWWWW!!!!”
Next, Jim used the flat-headed tips of the screwdrivers to playfully/sadistically move them round and round on the bottoms of Chris’ feet in figure eights…
Chris turned his head, looked toward the door to his stepfather’s workroom turned massage room, laughed crazily for a good few moments…and then, managed to scream out… “MOM!!!! HAWWWWWWWW!!! MOM!!!!!”
“AWW, calling your mommy for help, Chrissy boy?” Jim meanly teased his stepson…as he continued using the tips of his screwdrivers to make figure eights on the bottoms of Chris’ feet, causing the young man to scream his laughter at that point. “Let me refresh your memory. This room is soundproof! Your mommy can’t hear a thing…but I sure can, and the sounds you’re making are music to my ears, Chrissy boy…”
Jim proceeded to slide the shafts of the screwdrivers through the spaces between Chris’ toes…
…and in response the young man screamed his laughter even louder…
“WOW, maybe when you get to college you should take an opera training class, Chrissy boy,” Jim meanly teased his stepson. “You really can hit those high notes, that’s for sure. But your opera instructor would have to tickle your feeties to get you hitting those high notes, I’m sure.”
“SO fucking funny you are, HAWWWWWW!!!!” Chris reeled.
…and then, as Jim slid the screwdriver through the spaces between the toes of Chris’ left foot…
…he slid the flathead of the other screwdriver up and down the bottom of the helplessly laughing young man’s right foot.
“OOOOOOOEEEEEEEEE, HAWWWWWWWW!!!!” Chris cackled crazily…
A short while later, Jim had stopped tickling his stepson’s feet…
…and had resumed massaging them…
…while those feet of Chris’ remained tied in their dangling position the construction had put them in…
…AND while the young man’s STILL erect cock throbbed and churned under his kilt…
As Jim did his work massaging his stepson’s feet, he murmured, “HMM, your feeties are all sweaty and moist, Chrissy boy…”
“Gee, I wonder why,” the young man responded sarcastically.
“So what’ll be next, oil or ointment?” Jim asked Chris as he squeezed, kneaded and thoroughly massaged his feet. And yes, I AM going to tickle torture your feet again…
…and this time you’ll be blindfolded for the tickle festivities, Chrissy boy…”
“Blindfolded???” Chris exclaimed angrily. “Why are you going to blindfold me when you tickle torture my poor feet again?”
As he ranted, Chris realized that his erect cock was beyond churning and pre cumming at that point…
“Not being able to see me tickle torturing those sweet feeties of yours will make the tickle sensations hundreds of times more intense, Chrissy boy,” Jim said as he went to work yanking and tugging on the young man’s toes… “Now then, answer my question, what will it be next, ointment or oil on these oh so delectable feeties of yours…Chrissy boy?”
Stifling a gulp, Chris whispered, “Ointment…”
As Jim went on tugging and yanking his stepson’s toes, he grinned leeringly at his tickle captive, and jovially said, “Ointment it shall be…ointment it shall indeed be…”
A short while later, Jim had tied a green silk cloth over his stepson’s eyes, plunging the hapless young man into total darkness…
…much to Chris’ further despair over this entire twisted turn of events…
The young man heard his stepfather moving around the workroom turned massage room…and then…
…he felt the construction worker’s strong huge hands slathering thick feeling ointment all over his dangling tied up and trapped feet…
…or, as Jim called them, his feeties…
As his stepfather rubbed the ointment all over Chris’ feet, squeezing, massaging and kneading them at the same time, the young man asked, “J-Jim, why, why are you doing this to me?”
“As I told you, Chrissy boy, I want your feeties to be strong and resilient for all the walking you’re going to be doing in tomorrow’s Saint Patrick’s Day parade…” Jim said, sounding reasonable as hell.
“That’s not what I meant, I meant, why are you tickle torturing my feet as well as massaging them?” Chris pressed on.
Jim snickered, pecked the young man on one of his big toes, and said, in a lecherous sounding tone of voice, “Call it an added bonus, Chrissy boy. You see, although at the moment you can’t see, HEE, HEE, HEE, ever since I married your mother I’ve been after these feeties of yours. All the times you’ve walked around the house barefoot, or in your sandals, or in your flip-flops, let’s just say it was mesmerizing to me. You really have no idea just how sweetly shaped and delectable looking your feeties are, do you?”
Sneering angrily behind his blindfold, Chris clenched his teeth and railed, “And you have no idea just how VERY ticklish my feet are. Like I told you, I’m more ticklish than most average dudes…”
As Jim continued massaging his stepson’s feet, he snidely asked, “And how pray tell did you find out that horrendous fact, Chrissy boy?”
Chris licked his lips, felt his stepfather begin tugging and yanking his toes again, snapping them this time as well, which did feel great to the young man, but at the same time he knew that the yanking and tugging of his toes meant that soon, VERY SOON, the construction worker would be tickle torturing his feet again… and replied, “Let’s just say I was at a party and a few of my buddies had set up a game, a tickle game, a wager of sorts…and I went for it…”
“And let me guess,” Jim asked. “You lost the wager…”
“Ye-“Chris began to say, but then, once again, the young man was off on another uncontrollable tirade of laughing…
…as his stepfather had once more begun tickling the bottoms of his now ointment slathered feet, with his speedily moving fingertips…
“OH HAWWWWWWWWW!!!! OH NO!!! No, not again Jim, PLEASE man, not again, HAWWWW!!!!” Chris shrieked at the again sudden onslaught of tickle torture. “You bastard, man!!!”
But it seemed to the helpless college bound young man that his pleadings for his stepfather to stop tickling his feet…only egged him on all the more…
“HAWWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWW, J-JIM, I’ll tell my mother what you did to me down here!” Chris railed. “You told her you were going to massage my feet…I’m sure you didn’t tell her you were going to tie me the fuck up and tickle torture my feet as well, HAWWWWWWW!!! OH MY GOD, oh my god, my feet…my poor ticklish feet…JIMMMMMMM!!!!”
“No, of course I didn’t tell your dear mommy that I was going to tickle torture your sweet feeties, Chrissy boy,” Jim said. “And neither will you when we go back upstairs for dinner when I’m done with you here…”
“Oh we’ll see about that you bastard, HAWWWWWW, HAWWWWW, HAWWWWW!!!” Chris shrieked. “Just what in all hell makes you think I won’t tell my mother what kind of man she married???”
As Jim tickled and tickled his stepson’s ointment smeared sweaty feet, he said, “Because after we’re done here, you’ll be begging me to bring you down here, tie you up, blindfold you, and tickle these feeties of yours…these BEAUTIFUL feeties of yours…”
“L-like hell, HAWWWWWW, HAWWWWWW, HAWWWWW, oh my God Jim, PLLLLEEEEASE!!!!” Chris cried out, tears of laughter soaking his blindfold at that point.
“Piano playing time, Chrissy boy,” Jim stated and began plinking his fingertips, like a piano layer over the bottoms, balls, heels and arches of his stepson’s feet.
“AYYYYYYYYYY, OH GOD…HAWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWW, HAWWWWW, piano playing indeed you tickle monster!” the young man reeled.
“Bet you didn’t know that a construction worker dude like me studied piano playing back in the day, eh Chrissy boy?” Jim asked as he strummed his piano playing fingers up and down and up and down and side to side and side to side all over the bottoms of his stepson’s, at that point, hyper-ticklish feet.
“I really couldn’t give a rat’s ass, HAWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWW, HAWWWWWW!!!!” was Chris’ response.
After fifteen to twenty minutes of continuous mock piano playing on his stepson’s feet, Jim again picked up his flathead screwdriver…
…and when Chris felt it being trailed a second time over and over the bottoms of his feet he loudly railed, “NOOOOOO, NOOOOOO, even blindfolded I know that that’s that damned screwdriver again, Jim, HAWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWW!!!!!”
“Smart young man you are, Chrissy boy, you’ll do well in college,” Jim laughed.
Once more Jim used his flathead screwdriver to draw figure eights over and over the bottoms of Chris’ feet, tickling the tar out of him…and getting him laughing louder and louder…and LOUDER…
“And just think Chrissy boy,” Jim teased his laughing stepson. “We still didn’t even get to my oil yet.”
“OOOOOOOOOOOOO, HAWWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWWW, OOOOIIILLLLLLL” Chris laughed crazily… “OOOOOOOIIIIILLLLL indeeeeed!!!! Gonna OIL my poor feeties!!!”
…and as he then scraped his flathead screwdriver over Chris’ thin-skinned heels, the construction worker saw that his stepson’s erection under the young man’s kilt was beyond rage hard at that point…
To himself, Jim mused, “Oh yes sexy lad, as time goes on, you’ll be begging me for this treatment…”
Jim picked up a second flathead screwdriver and began working both his stepson’s ticklish feet at the same time, drawing more figure eights at the same time on the bottoms of both feet, trailing the tips of the screwdrivers over the young man’s thin skinned heels…over his arches…and between his toes too…
“HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWWWW, I’m gonna die a tickle death here, JIMMMMMM!!!!” Chris screamed in between his uncontrollable bouts of laughter.
“I truly doubt that, Chrissy boy, I truly doubt that…” Jim laughed along with his stepson…
…then, a short while later, although, to poor ticklish Chris, it seemed an eternity…
Jim had again stopped tickling his stepson’s feet…
He took the blindfold off Chris, and then, standing next to the young man on the massage table, he held a half gallon-sized bottle of cold mineral water to his stepson’s lips…
“Th-thank you, thank you Jim, I-I needed this,” Chris whimpered as he sipped the cold water down. “Least you could do after you tricked me into this heinous situation…tickling the tar out of my poor feet…my damned feeties as you call them…”
To quiet the young man down Jim pressed the top of the bottle against his stepson’s lips, curled his other big hand around the back of Chris’ neck, and as he drank, the construction worker said, “Drink up, Chrissy boy, and stop making it sound like what I’m doing to you is oh so terrible…tomorrow when you march in the Saint Patrick’s Day parade playing your bagpipes, you’ll be the only kilted dude whose feet won’t be aching…”
In response Chris simply chugged down more cold water…
…and as he did he realized his erect cock under his kilt was raging even harder…
…and he didn’t want to admit to it, but he needed to cum…the young college bound student NEEDED to shoot a load…he was hornier than ever before in all his young life…
…and as his stepfather forced him to chug down more of the water the realization hit him…
When Jim finally stopped Chris from gulping down the water, he took the bottle from the young man’s lips, let go of his neck…and asked, “How are you feeling now, Chrissy boy?”
“WHAT, what in all fucks was that water laced with, Jim???” Chris asked. “What did you trick me into scoffing down? I’m hornier than a cat in heat on a hot summer night…DAMN!”
“Let’s just say the water was laced with some very powerful sexual enhancers,” Jim replied, stepping over to a wastebasket and tossing the empty bottle into it. “Nothing harmful…but just enough of the enhancers to REALLY put you on the edge…for the next massage and then tickle session…”
“OH GOD, GOD, why did I agree to come down here with you???” Chris asked no one in particular.
As Jim stepped to one of the shelves and picked up a clear vial of what definitely looked to Chris like oil of some sort, the construction worker said, “You agreed to come down here with me because you’re a very respectful, obedient, AND…ticklish young man…HA!!!!”
Chris then watched helplessly as his stepfather slathered the oil from the clear vial all over his huge construction worker-sized hands…
…and began once more massaging, kneading and squeezing the young man’s bound up, trapped, and dangling bare feet…
…and as he did so, Chris responded by moaning in ecstasy…
“OOOOOOOOOO…OHHHHHH…Jim…that-that feels awesome…” Chris panted and his erect cock twitched back and forth under his kilt…a most unusual sight for both the young man and his stepfather.
As Jim squeezed the centers of both of Chris’ feet, a look of ecstasy on his own face, the college bound young man saw that his stepfather seemed to be in a trance of some sort, as he murmured, “Beautiful feet, beautiful goddamned feet…more beautiful than your mother’s feet…” and as he did his work he kissed the bottoms of his stepson’s feet a few times each…
“OH God Jim, please man, massaging and tickling my damned feet is one thing, but please don’t be kissing them too…” Chris pleaded…as his cock pounded hard like a thing alive under his kilt.
In response Jim moved his huge hands upwards and massaged the balls of Chris’ feet, the sounds of the oil slathered all over the young man’s feet making squishing noises…
“OOOOOOOOO…feels good Jim, feels good…” Chris swooned. “Wish you would just massage my feet this time and not tickle them again…”
“HEH, sorry Chrissy boy, can’t honor that request” Jim teased his stepson as he began twisting and yanking and snapping the young man’s toes once more.
“UHHHHHHHH…can’t believe how that makes my cock rage when you work my toes that way,” Chris moaned.
“Well with my enhancers in the water you drank it only stands to reason that your cock should be beyond rage hard by now…” Jim mused as he worked the young man’s toes, reveling it seemed in his work. “Fucking beautiful feet you got, Chrissy boy…”
As Jim slowly glided his hands downward to Chris’ heels, massaging, kneading and squeezing as he went, Chris murmured, “Yeah, your fucking enhancers…”
…and Jim could see from the look on his stepson’s handsome face that the young man would more than likely want more of those enhancers…in time…
…but for the present moment, massaging and tickling the tar out of Chrissy boy’s feet was the construction worker’s deed to concentrate on…
Approximately ten minutes later, Jim’s workroom turned massage room was once more filled with the sound of his stepson’s CRAZY laughter…
…as he once more used his rough fingertips to tickle and tickle Chris’ now oil-slicked feet…
“HHHAAAWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!! HAWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! JIM PLEASE, my feet, my poor feet!!!! MY POOR TICKLISH FEET!!!” the young man cackled and screamed once more…behind the green blindfold that Jim had retied over his eyes before he had gotten to the chore of tickling him once again.
“You mean your beautiful feet, Chrissy boy…” Jim said and moved his fingertips faster and faster over and over and up and down and up and down the bottoms of his stepson’s feet.
“HHHHHAAAAWWWWWW, HAAAAAAWWWWW, I-I’m laughing louder now than…HAWWWWW…than the first two times you tickle tortured my damned FEET…HAWWWWWW…HAWWWWWWW…why is that???? WHY???”
“My enhancers not only made your cock more sensitive and erect…it also made your feeties more tickle sensitive, Chrissy boy…” Jim explained and then went to work on his stepson’s feet with his flathead screwdrivers.
“HAWWWWWWWWW, HAWWWWWWWW!!!! Jim…that…HAWWWWWWW…all of this…was a rotten trick to play on me man!!! HAWWWWWWW HAWWWWWWW!!!!”
“No Chrissy boy, a great trick…a great trick…” Jim said breathlessly as he again made figure eights on the bottoms of his stepson’s feet with the tips of his screwdrivers.
“HAAAAAWWWWWWW, PLEEEEASE, PLEEEEEASE stop tickling my feet, Jim…HAWWWWWW, please stop!!!” Chris pleaded his blindfold now tear-soaked and matted to his sweaty face.
When Jim was again sliding the shaft of his screwdriver between Chris’ oil-slicked toes the young man laughed, cackled and screamed his laughter louder yet…
FINALLY…
…after what seemed beyond an eternity, and to the college bound young man’s relief, Jim stopped tickling his feet…
As Jim took the blindfold off his stepson, Chris whispered, “Thank you, thank you man…oh God, I thought you would never stop…never stop…tickling me…I thought you would never stop tickling me…”
Smiling devilishly, Jim balled up the silk green blindfold, stuffed it in a pocket and said to his stepson, “We’re not quite done just yet, Chrissy boy…you need to get your reward for enduring what I just put you through down here…and what I am sure you will be looking for me to put you through again and again in the future…”
“Yeah right…” Chris said sarcastically…
…as Jim brazenly lifted up his kilt and folded it back, revealing the young man’s furiously hard, pre-cumming erection, along with his testicles…as they dangled copiously between his dangling thighs…
“WH-what are you up to now, Jim???” Chris asked pleadingly…
…as his stepfather reached under him…with a goose-feather…
…and began swirling it over the college bound young man’s ball-sac…tickling his ball-sac…
“OH NO, NO!!!! HAWWWWWWWW!!!! JIM, no, don’t tickle my balls too man!!!” Chris reeled then, laughing his handsome head off once more…
“The way I see it,” Jim said, looking intently at the young man’s rage hard cock, as it leaked and leaked his pre cum. “It should take just a short tickling time to your sweaty balls to have you spewing and…”
But before the construction worker could finish his sentence, Chris reeled, in a throaty sound of voice, “AWWWWW FUCK, I’m cumming Jim, I’m fucking cumming…NOW!!!!”
As his stepfather went on feather tickling his testicles, Chris watched through blurred vision at that point, as Jim leaned down and slurped his spurting cock into his mouth…
“HUHHHHHHHHH!!!!! OH FUCKS!!!! OH MY FUCKING FUCKS!!!” the young man panted, grunted and railed…
…as goosebumps broke out all over him…
…and his stepfather continued feather tickling his testicles…as they gave up and gave up his loads…and the construction worker gulped down every SWEET drop…
“MMMMMMMM!!!!” Jim hummed on Chris’ cock in his mouth…
…causing the young man to cum some more…
“AWWWWWWWW fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!” Chris seethed wildly…
…and then…
FINALLY…oh blessed finally…
The construction worker stopped feather tickling the college bound young man’s testicles, Chris’ cock was spent…and Jim let it slip from his mouth, swirling his lips over it as he did so, sending chills through his stepson…
“Oh you bastard, why, WHY did you scoff down my ball juice???” Chris reeled, as he watched his stepfather licking his lips, a look of ecstasy on his face.
“Well now Chrissy boy, couldn’t have you mussing up your parade uniform with you sexy mess now could I?” Jim asked, sounding snide as hell. “And I have to say my enhancers in the water I gave you to drink truly made that ball juice of yours, as you called it, taste GREAT…”
Chris grimaced, and said, “Just release me from this this bench, Jim. I’m sure by now my mom has dinner ready and waiting for us…and you’re done massaging AND TICKLING my feet…one would hope…”
Jim smiled evilly from ear to ear, stepped to the young man’s tethered arms and undid the C-rings holding him to the bench…
A short while later, dressed once more in his Saint Patrick’s Day parade uniform, Chris was seated at the dinner table with his mother and stepfather, eating dinner…
“So how did it go?” Doreen asked her son. “Did Jim do a good job massaging your feet?”
Before replying, Chris looked across at his stepfather, as the man took a sip of his beer. The young man smiled, looked at his mother, said, “Yeah, you might say he did a great job massaging my feet…and then some…but I think I’ll need a second round of having my feet massaged tonight…I want to REALLY make sure my feet are in good condition for the parade tomorrow…”
With that, Chris looked back at Jim, and asked, “Think that can be arranged…Jim?”
Jim swallowed a forkful of food, looked at Chris, and said, “Sure thing, Chrissy boy, sure thing. We can definitely do another round of massaging those feet of yours tonight. I have plenty of my oils, lotions and ointments left over after all…
The End???
