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Two Great Bastinado Stories


Are they true? - Some true? or entirely fiction?

(Jump To 2nd Story)

The Camping Trip

It was the last Friday of the last week of term. Yes, at last I was going to get some time to myself. No more essays, no more assignments and no more study. I opened my locker to make certain that I had left nothing of any importance inside – and there it was, a large brown envelope. Inside the envelope was a photograph, a photograph that would destroy my relationship with my partner if it were made public. The note attached to the photograph read as follows:

We hope you like the photograph. Lets get right down to the reason behind the photograph. All term you have been a real wanker and the time has come for you to learn about your true status in life. Now this is what we have in mind for you. Tomorrow you will join us for a camping trip to the lakes. During the week you will service all of our needs, you will undertake all the manual labour and provide us with sexual satisfaction in whatever way we ask. You will willingly submit yourself to punishment whenever we feel you should be punished. Simple really. If you agree to this offer wait at the corner of the college courtyard at 8.30am tomorrow. If you are not there the picture will be sent to your partner, posted on the college bulletin board and printed in the next college magazine. If you decide to go camping with us and if you are well behaved then you will be given all copies of the picture together with the negs. See you in the morning. Oh – you will need nothing. Wait at the corner wearing a simple t-shirt, your jeans and your bare feet.

What could I do? That picture had to be destroyed, it was that simple. I had to go along with them and join them on their little camping trip. My family knew that I would be going away for the week but camping and slavery was not what I had in mind. I had no choice.

The morning came very quickly. I dressed just as I had been told, a t-shirt and jeans was all I was told to wear. I was told to be in bare feet. How was I supposed to achieve this? I expected that they would react badly is I turned up with a pair of shoes, even carrying a pair would not be good. I finally decided to wear an old pair of trainers, walk to the corner and then discard them in a nearby bin. I set out full of fear for what lay ahead of me.

I arrived at the corner, there was no-one there. It was 8.15am and I was 15 minutes early. I sat down on the wall checked that there was no-one watching me and removed my shoes and my socks. I walked in bare feet to the bin in the college courtyard and threw away my old trainers and sports socks. I walked back to the wall and sat down and waited for my blackmailers to arrive. It felt as if someone had erected a signpost pointing to my bare feet pointing them out for every passing car driver. I felt vulnerable, alone and frightened.

It was exactly 8.38am when a black transit van stopped at the corner. The back doors opened and out stepped one of my best friends. “Steve, why are you doing this, please tell me it’s a joke”, I said hoping for the smile and laughs to relieve my worry. “Sorry John but it’s real enough, now get in”. I climbed into the back of the van, the doors closed and a light was turned on. In the van were Steve and Andy, two of my closest friends. There was a third person driving the van but I did not know him. Steve said “Lets see if he has been able to follow simple orders. Take off your T-shirt and your jeans” I obeyed stripping myself naked all but my boxer shorts. “Now what do you call those?” said Steve pointing to my boxers. “Who told you to wear anything else but your shirt and your jeans?” I did not think that they would expect me to only wear the clothing they mentioned, I had clearly misunderstood their instructions (a nice trap for me to fall into). Take them off! I obeyed and was fastened into handcuffs and shackles, I was naked.


I sat down in the corner of the van guarded closely by Steve as we travelled towards the lakes and the week long camping trip of a lifetime.

The van finally stopped. The back doors opened and I could see that we were parked at a motorway service station. “We need refreshment, put on your trousers and your shirt”. I obeyed without question and was looking forward to a cool drink. I was given money and a request list and told to go and buy the drinks. I left the van and walked across the vast car park towards the service centre and shops. Cries of “Where are your shoes” and “Get a job and buy some shoes” came across the car park from people who had noticed my bare feet. I entered the shopping area and headed for the drink stall. I gave my order and paid without anyone making any further comments about my feet. I was not allowed to buy for myself. Back at the van I was stripped again and put back into chains. The journey continued.

The van finally stopped and I was pushed naked out into the cold air. We were somewhere totally remote surrounded by high trees. My handcuffs were removed and I was given the job of erecting the tent. It took ages to finish the tent and I was really tired. I stood to attention while the tent was inspected, it passed.

“Now you need to be punished for wearing those boxers. Lie down” I lay down on the floor. A long broomstick was taken from the van. My ankles were tied together and tied securely to the rod. “You will learn to obey our every word”. Steve and Andy took one end of the broomstick each and lifted it off the ground. The soles of my feet were held at waist height. The third guy cut a long piece of smooth tree branch from one of the tree’s and began to whip the soles of my bare feet. I screamed in pain and my body jerked frantically trying to pull my feet away from the branch. Steve and Andy held my soles in position while their friend took great delight in lashing the branch across my helpless naked soles. We had to be a long way from civilisation because my screams filled the air. I could not believe that my two closest friends would do this to me. My soles felt as if someone had set them alight as the branch lashed across them again and again. After what had to be maybe 20 strokes, the beating stopped. I was openly crying. I could not handle the pain that was throbbing through the soles of my feet. “Any comments – slave?” I took control of my tears and begged for him not to do it again. “You learn nothing” he said and once again began to explode pain across the soles of my feet. It became very hard for my two friends to hold my feet still I was frantically trying to pull them away from the tree branch. The branch was carefully aimed to land squarely across the balls of my feet, my insteps and my heels. The whole of my sole was proficiently whipped without mercy. Once again the whipping stopped. The guy with the branch (who I later found out was called Leon) slowly ran his finger up the soles of my left foot. I reacted by moving my beaten foot away from his finger. “So, you still have feeling in your feet my friend” The beating continued, the branch lashing across my soles and Leon laughing and jerking off in time to the rhythm of every lash.



Steve said “Stop that’s enough for tonight, please Leon stop now”. Leon stopped and my feet were untied. My soles were on fire. I had never experienced pain like it before. Leon stood in front of me as I lay on the floor in tears. “Get to your knees” I obeyed and knelt in front of him trying hard to control my emotions. I could feel the blood throbbing through my soles. I cannot use any words to explain the pain I was experiencing. Oh fuck it hurt and it hurt bad. Leon said “Take down my jeans and suck my cock you worthless little cunt” .I knew that if I did not obey my feet would more than likely be tied back on the broomstick and beaten all over again. I had to obey. I took down Leon’s trousers and boxers and spent the next 30 minutes maybe giving service to Leon’s cock. This was new to me, I am a straight guy with no experience of this but I had no option but to do exactly what I was told. After giving the same service to Steve and Andy’s cocks I was tied very securely in a spread-eagle position on the ground. My captures made sure that I could not escape And turned in for the night.

DAY TWO

On the second day it was decided that Andy and Leon would go hiking. I was left tied on the ground being watched over by Steve. They said that they would be back in a few hours and then they would have some more fun with the little cock sucker. After they had cleared the horizon, Steve sat down by my side and started talking. “Josh, I am sorry we have to do this. I mean I don’t really want to do this to you. Are you Ok, do you think you can walk?” He began to examine my whipped soles. As soon as he touched them the pain seared through and I cried out in pain. “Oh God I’m sorry, does it hurt?” What a fucking stupid thing to say to a guy you have kidnapped under blackmail, stripped, whipped and abused. “YES IT FUCKING HURTS, Why Steve, why have you done this? What have I done to you, Are you going to kill me?” Steve was clearly very upset. “Josh, I promise that you will get home in one piece, I am so sorry. He untied me and found my trousers. My shirt had already been lost. I put on my trousers while lying on the ground and tried to stand. Oh the pain was almost unbearable. I put my arm around Steve’s shoulders and we began to walk down the hillside towards the road. Steve said that we about 5 miles from the nearest road and then about 11 miles to the nearest village. How the shit was I going to make it that far walking with beaten bare feet and having to walk barefoot? We were aware that our two friends would start looking for us. The further I walked the easier it became to walk. My soles hurt like hell but the swelling had gone down and I was walking reasonably well. We had travelled a good 2 or maybe 3 miles when the bullet zipped past us and blew a hole in a nearby tree trunk. “STOP”. It was our two friends they had caught up with us and they were armed with real firearms. “So you can walk on those bare feet of yours can you cock sucker?” he told me to drop down to my knees and to place my hands on my head. I obeyed. He turned his attention to Steve. “So think you can walk out on us eh!. Strip yourself down to the waist and take off your shoes and socks”. Steve stripped off his clothing down to his waist and then said “Leon, please not in bare feet, please don’t make me go barefoot PLEASE don’t. Leon smiled and looked at Andy. I knew that Steve hated to be barefoot ever since someone had made fun of his wide feet in primary school (kids just being kids). Leon gestured towards me and Andy sat me down by a large tree and tied my hands behind the trunk. My ankles were tied together and my feet tied to a large root, my soles in full view out in front of me. Andy lit a candle. “Steve, Andy will start to burn the soles of Josh’s feet until you are standing in front of me in your bare feet. Do you understand me? We will burn the skin off Josh’s feet unless you TAKE OFF THOSE FUCKING SHOES AND SOCKS”. Andy moved the candle very close to my toes, my heart starting beating very fast “PLEASE Steve I know it’s hard for you but PLEASE take your shoes and socks off, PLEASE don’t let them burn my feet” I said. Steve plucked up courage and hesitantly removed his shoes and socks. I was untied and we were both marched back to the campsite.

Upon arrival at the site we were stripped naked and sat down with our backs against large tree’s Our hands were handcuffed behind the trunks and we could not move.



“So, we now have an escapee and a traitor to deal with. Why did you help him Steve?”

Steve explained that he did not expect me to be treated so harshly and he was afraid of what was to come. Leon told Steve that he should be afraid and he began to make ready for our punishment. A strong rope was thrown over a large overhanging branch directly above Steve. His ankles were bound together and his bare feet hauled up into the air. Leon took the smooth tree branch that he used to whip my feet and he began to repeat the foot beating across Steve’s soles. Steve howled with pain but was helpless to resist. His beating was far more severe than my own and I was very afraid that my own soles were to be given a second dose. After he had suffered and screamed his way through 50 strokes, the whipping stopped. We were gagged and left tied to the tree’s for the duration of the day and night. Nothing more was said to us and all we could do was sit tied to our tree’s to await the next round of pain and misery that was to befall us.



DAY THREE

The day began with Andy kneeling down in front of me and Leon in front of Steve. Our gags were removed and our bonds checked and tightened. They presented their cocks and we took them into our mouths and gave service to the best of our ability. When they had been satisfied they sat down around the camping stove and made a large breakfast. They ate all the breakfast without allowing us to eat any of it. I spoke out and said “Please, we are hungry and thirsty. Could we please eat and drink something sir, please”. Leon stood over us “You need food and drink?” He went away with the promise of feeding us very soon. Andy examined the soles of our whipped feet. The pain in our soles was still very real. My own soles bore some heavy bruises from the whipping and Steve’s were even worse. “You will be taking some more whipping on your soles before the week is out, sorry but that’s the way it is” Leon returned with a tray. On the tray was a large plate and two glasses of liquid. “Time for the prisoners to eat”, he said and sat down in front of me.

To my horror the plate was full of Leon’s SHIT and the glasses were both full of urine. “This week you are only worthy of eating our shit, so lets get started” He took a spoon and filled it with his warm shit. He placed the spoon by my lips “EAT”, he said. I knew that if I did not obey and eat the shit I would really suffer. The fear of eating shit against the fear of another foot whipping. I did not think my soles could take any more punishment today so I wanted desperately to avoid inciting Leon or Andy to use that branch on my soles. “Please, don’t make us do this”, I said. Leon smiled. “EAT, you little dick, EAT NOW!” I had no choice. I opened my mouth and took the first spoonful of shit. The gritty texture, the smell and the taste were fucking awful. I allowed the shit to slide down my throat. I nearly puked but before I could do anything a second spoonful was put to my lips. “Eat, you little bastard, eat my shit”. I have no idea how I managed to do this; even the thought of what I did makes me want to throw up. I knew that Leon was a psycho and who knows what he would have done if I had not eaten; it was too big a risk to take. Between every few mouthfuls Leon would offer me his piss to drink and again I had to drink. When I had finished my ‘breakfast’ Leon moved over to Steve who was also forced to enjoy Leon’s waste products. After checking our bonds once more Andy and Leon retreated back into their large tent and left their two prisoners to wait and anticipate the days pain and punishments. I had to know why I was being put through all this, so I asked Steve. “Josh, I’m so sorry man. All this is because you beat us at just about every subject we were studying. Jealousy nothing else just stupid jealousy .We found Leon from an ad on the Internet. He specialises in punishment and torture. Man you gotta be ready because there could be lots more to come. We paid this guy a small fortune. He got a hold of the photographs and documents about you and he planned the whole thing. When I was holding your feet in the air and seeing you in such pain when they were beaten – man I just knew that I had to stop. I really thought we could get away. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” I told Steve that I thought Leon would kill us all, including Andy. After all this was over, how was he going to get away with it? Steve explained. “Leon has flown into the country to do this for us. We don’t know who he is or where he lives. At the end of the week. He will dump us all here and drive to the airport for his flight. By the time we get anywhere, he will be gone out of the country and back home We should have thought this through better man. I am so sorry.”

It was a few hours later when our two captures emerged from their tent. Leon stood over Steve and said, “So you felt sorry for the victim and wanted to help him. A change of mind perhaps or was watching his feet being beaten too much for you to handle? I am going to give you a chance to prevent him from suffering this morning, in way of maybe paying him back for the foot whipping he suffered.” Leon took some gear of the van including a large heavy wooden trestle and an electric generator. He set up the trestle in front of Steve and told him to raise his feet and rest them on top. Steve obeyed. Leon then attached a strange looking device to Steve’s mouth. It was a long thin microphone held secure in his mouth with strong tape. Steve could not open his mouth at all and every sound he made registered on the scale of a monitor that Leon had connected to the microphone. Steve was told that his breathing would only register quite low on the monitor scale but if he made a sound above a certain level the monitor would register the sound made and the result would be fun to watch. Leon moved over to me holding a thin metal probe, lots of cable and some of that strong tape. My heart started beating faster – what the hell was he going to do. “This may be a little unpleasant” he said. He bent down and took me cock in his hand. The metal probe was pushed a long way into my piss slit and the cables attached to it. Everything was held in place with the tape. Leon moved back to his equipment and connected the cables to an electric generator. He then explained.

“This machine is capable of applying electric shock to Josh’s dick. Let me show you” The electricity surged and shot through my cock, I jumped and yelled out from the experience. “That was only a very small shock but don’t worry this machine is capable of applying power that would burn his dick to a crisp. Not that you want me to do that am I right? Steve nodded. “So you will be pleased to hear that YOU are going to control this machine and the number of shocks it gives Josh and how powerful they are going to be. Every time you make a sound the microphone will send a signal down to the machine. The machine will apply an electric shock to his dick according to the volume and length of the sound you make. Simple really. I am going to torture your feet and the screams you make will torture Josh. Great fun don’t you think? If you scream too much Josh will suffer terrible burns to the inside of his dick. Let me tell you what you are going to suffer this morning. I will start by once again giving your soles a thrashing with my trusty old tree branch. Then I will apply a good number of cigarette burns to the soles of your feet and then maybe a few more lashes across your soles with the branch – just to see if the burns make the whipping more painful. Then to finish off I am going to push some needles down your toenails. Shall we test the equipment after all no point you suffering all this if he isn’t getting his dick burnt.”

Andy tied Steve’s feet in place ready for the whipping.



The equipment was given one last check and Leon stood by Steve’s feet with branch in hand. The first stroke of the branch landed squarely across Steve’s bare soles and he screamed in pain. The equipment worked to perfection and my body surged with the pain of the electric power shooting through my dick and balls. The second shot did the same landing across the insteps and causing a second scream of pain to electrify my genitals. I was shouting pleas for Steve to try and control his pain. The third shot landed across the balls of both of Steve’s already very bruised soles and a third cry of pain sent the power surging through my cock. “Having problems controlling your screaming Steve? That’s good it means that Josh will be having a real good time over there” To be honest the electricity was strong and painful but I doubted that it would any real damage and certainly not burn in any way it was too low power to do that. Steve took 15 strokes of the tree branch across his feet and did not manage once to control his screaming. I felt every one of those strokes. “Time to increase the electricity supply. So far we have only been warming that cock, time to give it more to worry about” Leon turned up the power and Andy emerged from the tent with a wooden tray full of lit cigarettes. They were going to burn Steve’s feet and he was going to scream his way through every burn. “Now Steve listen carefully, you don’t seem too good at controlling your screaming. Each time I burn your feet the cigarette will be slowly put out on your soles. The pain will last a while and the power will flow for the whole length of your scream. So please scream long and hard and lets roast that dick.” Leon took the first cigarette and pressed it deep into the flesh of Steve’s left instep. My cock shook with the pain and I knew that if this continued then maybe I would suffer minor burns – it hurt like hell. Six cigarette stubs later and the pain in my dick was unbearable, I screamed out for mercy and I screamed at Steve to “Try to control your fucking screaming man – my dicks on fire”. It was not a good thing to say, not good at all. “Oh so you think its easy to control the pain eh!, lets change the way we work”, said Leon. Steve was untied and staked out spread-eagle on the ground. The microphone was secured in my own mouth and my feet raised and tied to the trestle. I have put a delay on the microphone the electricity will flow 3 seconds after the screaming has stopped. So now I am going to torture your feet and lets see if you can scream your dick into charcoal” Fucking hell, if I could not control the pain my dick would fry. I was in control of my own dick torture. I had to control my screaming, just had to. The first lash of the branch crashed across my soles and yes I screamed out followed three seconds later by the shock up my dick. The branch lashed again and again across my soles and after the first four lashes I had found a way to prevent my screaming. Leon was furious. He removed all the electricity machinery and started working on my soles with real relish and a further 20 blows rained down across my poor feet. Twelve cigarettes were stubbed out into my feet and a needle pushed down each of my toenails. I was in so much pain that my begging and pleadings got really humiliating. Finally he stopped and I joined Steve staked out on the ground. Leon took some time to calm down and when he did he came and sat down between his two staked out victims. “Well, what can I say? You two guys have given me great pleasure. Your feet have been a joy to beat. I love beating the soles of a helpless guys feet and you two guys have been great. It is a shame that Josh was not a willing participator but that’s the way it is. Steve, you should have known better than to walk out on your friends like that. The question is where do we go from here? How do you guys get out of this? Do I just leave you here and drive away to the airport and fly away. Or are you going to want to get your own back on Andy? He paid for you to suffer like this. Are you going to let him get away with it? Now if you guys can give me £2000.00 in cash I will give Andy’s feet the same treatment I gave yours. What do you say. Steve and I talked it through for some time. There was not going to be a way that we could ever be friends with Andy again unless he had suffered the way he had made us suffer. After long talks we agreed to pay Leon to work over Andy’s soles.

We were untied and given our clothing back. Andy held out his hand in friendship hoping that we would repair our broken friendship. We took his hand and held him down on the ground while Leon stripped him, bound him and hauled his bare feet up into the air. Leon handed each one of us a nice smooth branch and we started to pay Andy back for all we had gone through. To this day I have a video recording of Andy having his soles thrashed unmercifully. We are now all friends again. Leon has gone for good and we regularly discuss the punishments that our soles endured all over a list of pass marks and football scores.

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The Spy

"ahhh...another spy captured and being delivered into my capable
hands", Steele reflected, "i just hope he's not as easy to break as
the one's i've been getting lately". Steele was a man who loved his
job. that job being extracting useful information from unwilling
captured spies. he was boss here, allowed to conduct his
interrogations according to his whims. he had a method much different
then most of his peers' crude means of information retrieval. Steele
believed (and rightly so) that one of the most sensitive areas of a
man's body is his feet (more specifically, the soles of the feet). he
focused his attentions here, while most in his line of work took a
more general approach to torture.
Steele shuffled the papers on his desk, pulling up the file of
today's victim. Chad Wright was his name. a good-looking young man: a
lean, athletic body, ruggedly handsome features, dark hair, 28yrs
old. confidential disks were found on his person and Steele's job was
simply to discover the password needed to retrieve the top-secret
documents contained on them. Steele sighed aloud as he gazed again at
the handsome face on the 8x10 glossy in front of him, "a wet-dream
walking", he thought, then smiled, "or should i say a wet-dream
running..." he moved over to the window to look out at the complex's
track outside. in the distance he could make out Chad Wright being
forced to run lap after lap around the track by his guards. this had
been an order of Steele's (just a part of the initial preparation of
his victims). there were three phases that Steele put his victims
through during the day to prepare their feet for the interrogation
session that would take place in the evening. Steele's hand trailed
down to the crotch of his pants where he pressed firmly against his
hard cock beneath the fabric as he watched Chad run in the heat. he'd
been forced to run for almost an hour now, wearing sneakers that
Steele had specially made with heavy lead weight encased inside the
rubber of the soles. Steele knew the boy must be suffering now, in
fact, from what he could see through the window of his air-
conditioned office it looked as if he were close to collapsing, his
body shining with sweat out on the field. Steele picked up his
cellular phone and rang one of the guards running Chad...
"okay. he's run enough, bring him to the box now..."
Steele watched through the window as the guards stopped Chad and led
him to a plexiglass enclosure in the sand nearer to his window. at
the door to this enclosure one guard held chad at gunpoint while the
other stripped him of his shoes, sweats, and underwear. Steele was
awestruck by the youth's body. it was perfection and literally
dripping with sweat from his forced exertions. he stood naked except
for thick white sweatsocks in front of the thick plexiglass door. the
guard cuffed his hands behind his back and, finally, lifted each of
his legs to remove his socks before pushing Chad into the enclosure
and locked the door. it wasn't long before Chad realized what the
idea here was. the sand was hot!! Steele couldn't help laughing as he
watched the expression on Chad's face change. Steele knew that sand
was well over a hundred degrees this time of day, Chad's feet were
bare, and there was no place for him to go! he was naked so there was
no relief to be had from sitting (not only would he burn his tight
little ass, but it would be even more humiliating than hopping from
foot to foot, which was what he was doing now. it was always the
same...the first few minutes the spy would try to act as if nothing
was bothering him, then he would begin shifting from foot to foot to
try and relieve the discomfort, then he'd start hopping and soon,
when the sting of the hot sand became unbearable against the tender
skin of his bare soles...ah yes, there he goes...he'd start dancing
frantically around the small plexiglass enclosure driven insane by
the searing pain. the guards, as well as Steele, got a big kick out
of this and would turn on a mini-stereo they had and play music
loudly in synch with the poor dancing spy. Steele cracked his window
a bit...some upbeat ragtime tune, "good choice", Steele mused and
watched Chad do his painful dance for almost another hour before
giving the guards another call...
"prepare for phase 3"
the guards immediately went to work, digging a deep rectangular hole
in the sand, leaving Chad to dance in agony alone. when the hole was
finished one guard removed the almost grateful Chad Wright while the
other ushered him, at gunpoint, over to the hole. without removing
the handcuffs, they forced him into the hole lying on his stomach.
his legs were bent at the knees and the hole was filled with tightly
packed wet sand that almost immediately dried hard. when they were
done, the only parts of Chad's body left exposed were his head and
his feet, soles facing the sky. there was no way for him to escape
his predicament, especially since his hands were cuffed beneath the
hard sand. with the sand packed level all the way up his neck and to
his ankles, it appeared that a pair of upturned feet and a head about
four feet away sprouted up from the ground separately. Steele smiled
sadistically to himself as the guards coated his soles with cooking
oil then left him to roast his soles in the sun. now it would be only
a few more hours till the sun went down and he'd have the unfortunate
Chad Wright escorted to his chambers by the guards, soles severely
sunburnt, for the main event!! Steele sat back in his comfortable
over-stuffed leather chair swiveled toward the window. the sun was
beginning to do it's job. Chad's feet were writhing in the heat, but
the guards had spread his legs far enough apart so that one foot
could provide no shade for the other. the pit he suffered in was
close enough to his window so that Steele could see that the tortured
soles of Chad's feet were already turning pink. Steele gave his rigid
cock another squeeze as he imagined how unbearably ticklish and
sensitive to his tortures the boy's feet were going to be by evening.
Steele let Chad's feet burn in the sun all afternoon. the guards came
to his office once about three hours after he'd had them bury Chad
Wright in the sand to tell him that the spy had finally started to
beg them for release. he'd played the stoic for awhile, "the poor
man's feet must really be burning up!", Steele smiled. the guards
asked him if they should try to get the password from him then.
Steele shook his head, "No", and instructed them to leave the boy in
the sun till dusk and ignore his pleas. at seven thirty they were to
give him a mild, short-term tranquilizer injection and deliver him to
Steele's chambers. when they left, he moved to the window to see how
poor Chad was doing. it was four in the afternoon, but the sun was
still high in the sky, blazing. Chad's feet squirmed helplessly
around in an effort to face the soles away from the sun, but it was
useless. the soles themselves were a deep pink now, the oil
magnifying the rays for a more intense sunburn. even walking was
going to be a problem for the spy. tears of pain streamed down his
face, still buried to the neck in the sand, thankfully turned away
from the sun. Steele chuckled to himself as he watched the boy
suffer, then he picked up his cellular again. the guard answered on
the first ring:
"i think our boy needs a basting"
moments later one of the guards appeared with the cooking oil and a
wide paintbrush. Chad saw him coming and began shaking his head from
side to side. Steele cracked his window again to listen...,
"no,no,no,no,please,nooooo...", Chad pleaded his tear-stained face
following the guard who ignored him and walked over to where Chad's
feet protruded from the ground. he dipped the paintbrush in the oil
and slathered a fresh coat across the boy's soles. his toes curled
and his tenderized feet recoiled from the touch of the stiff
bristles, his face screwed up in agony. "ah yes", Steele sighed as he
noted the young man's reaction to the touch of the brush, "this one
was MADE for my brand of torture". and then he dozed off in his
chair, cupping his balls in his hands...
...he was awakened by a knock at the door. he glanced at the clock.
7:45. "time to play", he whispered to himself, grinning, "come in!".
the door was opened and the guards shuffled in supporting the weight
of the unconscious spy between them, naked as he'd been since he'd
been forced into the plexiglass enclosure. "how long until he comes
to...?" the guards informed Steele that the prisoner should be waking
up in about a half hour. "alright then guys, i can take it from here.
you can go", Steele was dying to finally be alone with his current
project. the guards turned to leave, "Wait!", Steele stopped them,
"you're both off duty. go home. relax. but i want you both to take
off your socks and leave them here before you go. the men had learned
not to question his orders and immediately sat to remove their boots
and peel the wet, white socks from their big feet. they put their
boots back on and left to rest at the end of a long day.
Steele surveyed the form of Chad Wright draped across the couch where
the guards had dumped him. this was the first good look he'd gotten
of the youth. a strong, sinewy body dripping sweat. ruggedly handsome
unshaven face with a strong jaw. washboard abs and beautiful feet!
Steele couldn't wait to get to work. he hefted the sleeping spy
across the room and up onto a waist high curious-looking table pushed
against the wall there. Steele held him upright sitting length-wise
atop the table, back flat against the cement wall. He pulled the
boy's arms up to shoulder height, stretched them out to the sides
buckled leather straps embedded in the wall tightly around his
wrists, at his elbows, and right next to his shoulder joints. there
was a strap that went around his neck and one more that buckled
around his waist. now Chad's upper-body was solidly anchored to the
wall. next Steele straightened the young man's legs out in front of
him and set the sleeping boy's ankles into the two openings in the
heavy oak stocks bolted to the opposite end of the table and locked
them. more leather straps attached to the table were buckled tight
around his knees and upper thighs. Steele then moved back down to
where the spy's feet were held captive between the wooden planks of
the stocks. the boy definitely had beautiful feet! they were large,
masculine, wide-soled feet. the balls of his feet looked plump and
sensitive, the toes were adorable and well-kept, the heels were broad
and sturdy and the only area that seemed to have slightly rough skin.
and boy, Steele noted, were those poor tootsies burned!!! his poor
soles were a dark pink, almost red, and Steele knew that the
slightest touch would register as pain as soon as the boy was awake.
in a few days he knew the bottoms of the captive man's feet would be
peeling, but right now they were the most gorgeous things he'd ever
seen! he snapped a quick picture of the stud's trapped soles with his
poloroid and added it to the collection of his victims' feet he kept
in a desk drawer.
Steele glanced at the clock. fifteen minutes until Chad woke up. he
quickly moved to put the finishing touches on the prisoner's bondage.
each toe was spread far apart and tied tightly to one of ten separate
eyehooks screwed into the wood over the ankle holes. this forced his
feet into a hyper-flexed position, would keep his feet completely
still during the torture, and afforded access to those incredibly
sensitive spots between his toes. finally he retrieved the sweaty
socks that the guards had left balled up on the couch. smelling each
pair, he chose the most rank, tied the toes of the socks together and
then around Chad's head so that the sweaty knot at the toes was
pushed up right against his nose. he balled up one from the other
pair, shoved it into Chad's mouth and anchored it there with the
other. Steele went to his desk to retrieve a candle and a box of
matches. he turned down the lights in the room and moved himself a
chair right up to where the boy's feet were held trapped at the end
of the table.
"wakey, wakey...", Steele whispered as he lit the tapered candle and
held the flame to the boy's feet, letting it lick at the boy's tender
soles. in the dark room, the little flame illuminated the spy's soles
with it's flickering light. Steele continued to move the flame slowly
around the bottoms of the man's trapped feet, watching his face for
the first reaction. first, when the heat became intense enough, the
muscles in the soles of Chad's bound feet began to tense and strain,
but could effect no actual movement and then his eyes suddenly
snapped open. even though the candle flame just barely touched the
surface of his soles and Steele kept it in constant motion, the heat
paired with the bad sunburn caused poor Chad to scream a muffled
scream into the sock gag. then the smell of the filthy sweatsock tied
under his nose and the salty taste of the sock in his mouth hit him
and his face screwed up in disgust. he tried pulling his feet away
from the tormenting little fire to no avail. then he glanced from
side to side and Steele saw his eyes widen with fear as he realized
that he was securely bound and completely unable to move his
crucified upper body, legs, and, of course, his feet (even his toes
were helplessly bound)! he began moaning loudly into the sock as
Steele continued to explore his sunburned soles with the evil flame.
caressing the tender flesh with the cruel flame, he'd occasionally
hold the little fire motionless against an area, the arch, between
his big and first toes, and watch the fear build as that pinpoint of
pain became more and more intense, the muscles of his legs flexing
uselessly in an attempt to escape the flame, and then he'd move the
candle on... this went on for almost an hour, with Chad writhing as
much as his restraints would allow (almost none), screaming,
breathing hard, sweating in pain. then Steele became bored with the
game, blew the candle out, and untied each of Chad's toes. the spy
sighed with relief, thinking his ordeal was over, at least for the
day.
Steele untied only his toes, though. then he went over to his desk
and returned with a box of rubberbands, the big, wide, heavy-duty
variety. pulling out ten from the box, he proceeded to place five
around each of Chad Wright's bound feet, slipping them over his toes
and moving them down. one bisecting his foot just below the toes, one
just below the balls, two across the insteps and one just above each
heel. then his toes were tied back into place. Chad watched all this
in silence, his face falling as he realized that the day's torture
was STILL not over, and wondered what fresh hell he was in store for.
when he was done, Steele pulled the rubberband at the ball of his
right foot (the pinkest area of his burned soles) out as far as it
would stretch (almost a foot) and held it poised there, looking
directly into his captive's eyes. it suddenly dawned on him what was
going to happen now and Chad began shaking his head violently from
side to side shouting indecipherable pleas into the stinking gag.
Steele stretched the rubberband just a little further and watched
Chad stare in terror at his helpless, waiting feet. "is there a
password you'd like to share with me, Chad Wright?", Steele asked
with a growing grin.
the spy slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, "No".
"that's what i was hoping you'd say...", and Steele let the
rubberband fly. it made a loud slapping sound when it made contact
with his sunburned sole and Chad cried out in agony from the stinging
pain. Steele laughed out loud at his misery and pulled back the band
just under the toes of his right foot and let it go. Chad screamed
again. Steele had no idea how this felt since he'd never sunburned
his own soles and repeatedly stung them with rubberbands, but judging
from the reactions he'd gotten from every prisoner he'd tried it on,
he gathered it was excruciating. he pondered how ruthlessly sadistic
he was as he began rapidly and incessantly stinging the boy's feet at
random spots. he basked in the youth's agony, tears rolling down his
cheeks now, loud sobs wracked his throat as Steele continued the
torture thinking how glad he was that he wasn't in Chad Wright's
shoes (or out of them, as the case may be). this phase of the
interrogation lasted almost another hour before Steele decided to
move on.
Steele used scissors to cut away the rubberbands and produced two
small metal devices. he held them in front of Chad who hadn't the
slightest idea what they were, but knew he'd found out soon and
probably wish they'd never been made. "password?", Steele made a
half-hearted attempt to get the information he needed even though he
hoped it be a while longer before the boy broke. Chad shook his head
and Steele moved back down to his trapped feet. he placed one of the
metal devices on each helpless big toe and turned a screw embedded in
each device. the small apparatuses worked like tiny vices, squeezing
his toes between two small metal plates. Steele watched Chad's face
as he slowly turned the screws tighter and tighter causing the spy to
cry into his gag as this new pain gradually increased. when Steele
felt satisfied that the pain in the boy's toes must be more than
unbearable, he left the screws as they were and pulled out a thin
strip of black rubber tubing. before Chad knew what was happening,
Steele had begun to use the strip of rubber to whip the soles of his
immobile feet. he didn't hit hard enough to break bones or cause
swelling (he had no desire to mar the beauty of these big, manly
feet), but even a tap across those tenderized soles would have
registered as pain. Steele prided himself on his talent for
extracting information without the use of no-holds-barred barbaric
force. none of his victims had ever left his chambers permanently
damaged in any way, but with memories of tortures so cruel they'd
have nightmares for weeks nonetheless. now with each lash of rubber
against flesh he repeated the question in earnest ,"password?". and
still the boy held out even though each stroke produced a loud yelp
and brought fresh tears to his eyes. finally Steele's arm began to
tire and he decided to move to the final stage of torture. the
prisoner's feet were now sensitive enough for his most diabolical of
torments. not one of his victims had ever held out through this next
ordeal, and everything he'd done so far to poor Chad's feet was
merely in preparation for what was coming next.
he walked over to his desk again, this time to retrieve a box of
assorted feathers he kept there...
when the whipping of his soles finally stopped Chad closed his eyes,
his head drooping, his hair drenched with sweat, and took deep,
ragged breaths in an attempt to regain his composure. as soon as the
echoing pain of that last sting of rubber against his soles died
away, the dull ache of the small screw-vices attached to his toes
came back into focus and he became aware once again of the stench of
the guard's sock tied under his nose. eyes still defiantly shut, he
moaned into the salty gag and prayed that they were done with him for
the day. he heard Steele walk back up to the table and pull up the
chair to sit down. he opened his eyes to see his tormenter smiling at
him from the other end of the table in front of his trapped feet.
"are you ready to give me that password, Chad?"
the young spy took a deep breath and even though he was audibly
whimpering he shook his head slowly from side to side, fearing for
the raw soles of his feet. Steele opened the lid of the black box
he'd gotten from his desk and pulled out a handful of various types
of feathers. fanning them out like a poker hand in front of Chad he
asked, "which one would you like to start with?".
the simple sight of the feathers sent a shock through the man's
entire body, every muscle tensed in an involuntary effort to free
himself from his bondage. alas, all his determination could do was to
cause a faint creaking in the wood of the heavy oak stocks. he
pleaded incoherently into the dirty sock and shook his head violently
from side to side. Steele grinned sadistically, he knew that Chad
must have been really ticklish to begin with, judging from his
reaction. he knew the boy was going to be horrified at how much more
ticklish his feet were going to be after all the abuse they'd
suffered today: made tender by a long sweaty run, then more tender
dancing on hot sand, even more tender after the forced sunburn, and
then super-tenderized by the rubberband stings and the whipping. even
the guys he'd tortured who weren't initially ticklish and scoffed
when he pulled out the feathers found it impossible to withstand once
they found out how ticklish their feet had become after the ordeal.
this was going to be fun!!
"i think we'll start with the softest and work up to the stiffest
feather...unless you have something to tell me?", he got up and moved
up to where the spy's torso was strapped to the wall and untied the
sock gag, leaving the other pair tied over his nose, "anything to
say?".
it took a second for Chad to find his voice, and when he did speak
his deep, sexy voice trembled. Steele knew he was close to breaking.
"p-p-please. please. you gotta understand. i-i-i can't. i just can't
betray my country. no-no-no matter what you do.(a nervous pause
here). so please, please stop this, please..."
without a word, just a cold smile. Steele slowly walked back down to
the end of the table where the poor man's feet protruded through the
wooden planks of the stocks. he chose the most delicate feather from
the box, a soft, short, white one. "oh god. oh god. oh god oh god.
ohgodohgodohgod...", he heard Chad chanting to himself in
anticipation of the torture even before the feather made contact!
Steele was enjoying himself immensely, his cock becoming even more
rigid in his pants. he placed the very tip of the feather against the
stretched ball of his left foot, right at the spot where his toes
connected and slowly began dragging it back and forth horizontally.
"aaaaaaahhahaha god god godgoooooooood ga ah ga ga jeeeeze shit shit
ah ahahaaaaaahaaaaaheeee god god ha ha haaaaarghahaa haaaargh geee
heeeeee....", Chad Wright's face was a twisted mask of ticklish agony
as he immediately broke down into helpless laughter.
Steele quickly replaced the white feather with a longer, stiffer,
brown one without missing a beat and began sliding it's tip up and
down his left sole vertically. his toes strained to instinctively
curl but were held stretched, and splayed by the eyehooks. the
muscles in his feet were rigid and his foot was visibly vibrating in
torment as i traced about it's instep with the feather, more
aggressively applied now.
"plea-PLEA-PUH-Leeeeeeeeze god stop. stop. stop. sthaaaaaaaaaaap! hee
heeeehahahaaaargh!! ha ha haaaa!! hahahaaa! i-i-i can't t-t-take hee
ha ha thissssssss ss sssahahaaaaa...", Chad was wild-eyed now,
whipping his head from side to side, slinging beads of sweat from his
wet hair that occasionally hit Steele's face. he'd lick the salty
drops from his lips and continue to ceaselessly, and without mercy,
tickle his trapped soles.
Steele could tell he was very, very close to breaking now and traded
the brown feather for the stiffest one, a long spotted feather with
wiry separated tendrils. Steele placed it between the big and first
bound toes of his right foot, held it with both hands by the end and
tip and rapidly began sliding it back and forth with sadistic relish.
Chad's body tensed even more, the muscles beneath his wet suffering
flesh seemed so tight they'd snap and a loud, long, hopeless, deep-
throated screaming laugh poured from his lips and echoed loudly in
the room and then he said the word...
"SILVER TONGUE! SILVER TONGUE! ah ah hahahaaaa S-I-L-V-E-R T-O-N-G-U-
E, SILVER TONGUE!!! that's the fuckin' password d-d-damnit ta
tahahaaaa! stop! stop!! STOP!!!"
Steele knew the poor boy wasn't lying, but he couldn't bring himself
to stop just yet. he picked up a second feather and tickled both feet
simultaneously and watched the spy's body trembling in pure ticklish
agony. he suddenly noticed the boy's cock had become urgently erect
despite the torture. Steele was delighted and stopped the foot
tickling to move up to Chad's secured lap where his penis stood at
attention. he began stroking just the head with the tip of the
feather and it grew even larger.
"oh. oh. ohhhhhhh....mmmmm", Chad sighed almost with pleasure. Steele
discarded the feather and made a tight fist around the shaft and
began slowly, but firmly stoking it up and down. "oh. ooooh god.
god...."
"you wanna cum don't you?", Steele asked and, humiliated, Chad nodded
his head, "yes...yes...".
Steele stroked faster and faster, the boy's abs tensed to cum, and
just as he was about to shoot Steele released his penis denying him
his reward. his neglected cock pulsed in mid-air, aching, with no
hope of orgasm. "noooooooo....", Chad was actually weeping at the
sudden ceasing of the badly needed stimulation. Steele chuckled
sadistically and moved back down to the boy's sunburned, tortured
feet and unzipped his pants. he pulled out his hard cock and inserted
it between the big and first toes of his right foot. he began sliding
it in back and forth between the toes. the hot sunburned flesh felt
delicious against his cock and each time his pubic hair brushed
against the bottom of the foot Chad yelped in pain. within moments he
came explosively all over the spy's toes as he enviously watched,
making the poor boy even hornier.
Steele went back to his desk and called a guard to come and retrieve
the prisoner. he instructed him to tie the boy down to the cot in his
cell. Steele had decided not even to allow the boy to bring himself
of in the night, simply after of pure meanness.
after the boy was gone, Steele put his head down on his desk and
replayed the torture session from beginning to end in his mind. he
fell asleep with a wicked smile on his face and a hand cupped around
his balls. in the middle of the night he was awakened by a loud
explosion and then inexplicably knocked unconscious...
...when Steele awoke again, his eyes were met with a blinding light.
he squinted painfully and tried to get up. he couldn't move! as his
eyes became used to the light, he realized he was outside and buried
to the neck in the sand. directly in front of his face were the soles
of three pairs of feet, crossed at the ankles. so close he could
smell them, combat boots and socks lying nearby. looking up Steele
recognized the faces of his last three victims smiling down at him.
Chad moved one of his feet closer and pulled his lip down with a
sunburned big toe, "let's see how YOU do, tuff-guy!"
Steele craned his neck around to see his feet upturned and sticking
out of the ground about four feet behind him. he noticed that the
soles glistened with cooking oil in the sun and he was suddenly aware
of the heat building on the bottoms of his feet. he felt himself
starting to cry and couldn't stop thinking about those rubberbands...

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