JT IN COMPANY (m/m)

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I thought it was a bout time to catch up with JT again.
This little tale is the follow-up to "JT In Exile" (https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f= ... ile#p45308)
An innocent one for the foot-fetishists.

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JT IN COMPANY

Following the Limewood raid on their Bronze Award expedition JT couldn’t help noticing that Karl, who withdrew at late notice, was being shunned by the rest of the youngsters. This seemed to be because the rest of the team blamed him for the treatment that JT had received in his place.

JT was sorry about this as he had enjoyed his unexpected involvement in a TUG again; something he thought he had left behind when he and his dad had moved to England. He might not have played a major part in the situation but that was because the Limewood lads didn’t really know him, didn’t have anything against him and really wanted to punish Karl and the rest of the crew.

I don’t know with how much of an open mind JT went to reconcile himself with Karl; but I think there must have been something behind it. Nevertheless, he told himself that he ought to meet Karl and explain that there were no hard feelings and, indeed, that he was grateful for the introduction to the group and to the tie-up situations between the two Warbands.

What does one say in such situations? Perhaps, “Tie me, torture me, make me feel wretched.” could backfire. After the initial pleasantries and following a warm handshake and embrace it didn’t take too many Cokes for the boys to head for the garage.

Let’s face it: all that was left to be decided was who was to be the evening’s prisoner and how to decide?

Karl suggested wrestling. He had the weight advantage.

JT accepted, Karl was flabby but JT was fitter and he knew how to throw a bout.

The boys stripped down to their trousers which, being summer, were just long shorts. The rules were agreed: no striking one another, no interfering with one another’s “bits” and best of two falls or lifts out of the ring was the winner.

JT should have probably been suspicious by now. There was already a three metre circle marked out on the floor of the garage. Oh yes!

With a sweeping away of the feet Karl floored JT. JT didn’t see the move coming and was pinned: both hips and one shoulder. I’m not sure to this day that JT understood that that is a perfectly legitimate traditional English rule but he accepted the pin.

Etiquette dictates that one doesn’t just roll over and submit. So the next round involved JT lifting Karl by the back of his trousers, spinning him round and dumping him outside the ring. Karl regretted not insisting on stripping down beyond trousers.

One point to score: JT didn’t want to win but neither did he want his new potential friend to believe he was a complete push-over. That could come later if they got on.

The garage floor was not the best surface for wrestling. There was considerable abrasion during the next round, but the boys enjoyed the bodily contact and the smell of one another. To be honest JT could have prolonged the bout for some time so, I suspect, could Karl. The longest of the three rounds resulted in a submission as the result of an arm-lock on JT. Let’s face it: JT really did NOT want to win!

“Who’s the master?” demanded Karl as he wrenched on JT’s arm.

“You are, Master”

JT had arrived.

Karl released his vanquished opponent and both boys lay side by side on the concrete floor recovering and breathing deeply.

After about a minute, JT climbed to his knees, touched his nose to the floor and said, “Well done, Master, what are your requirements?”

Karl had very little time to gather his thoughts before having to respond to the request. But, while he thought, JT maintained his submissive posture. It didn’t take long for Karl to find one of his several rolls of gaffer tape. While he collected it, he told JT to remove his trousers because “prisoners are not entitled to trousers”, and then to bow over again. JT did so with alacrity but was still somewhat grateful that his posture went some way to disguising his enthusiasm. The Master then commanded his prisoner to cross his hands behind his back. He couldn’t see the contented smirk on JT’s grounded face.

“Tsssskk”, the sound of gaffer tape being unrolled met JT’s ears. Karl went behind him and wound the tape tightly first vertically and then horizontally round his crossed wrists. JT’s wrists were already firmly fixed even before a few more “square lashing” layers of tape were added. His wrists were now more-or-less immobilised.

“Right, it’s time for you to show your master how obedient you are,” announced Karl as he walked over to an old sofa that had been dumped in the garage and that nobody had got around to taking to the dump. “Come here. No, don’t stand up. On your knees, slave.”

JT stopped trying to struggle to his feet and crawled over to his master’s “throne” and bowed his face to Karl’s feet. By now even Karl was getting the right idea!

“Kiss my feet, Slave.” JT did so several times. “Lick my feet, Slave.” JT did so copiously from toes to instep. He hoped that, by now, Karl was getting the right idea. He certainly was. “Slave, stop.” JT lifted his face and his torso and looked up into Karl’s face. At this stage Karl had the decency to wipe the bottoms of his feet on JT’s discarded shorts before lifting his feet, resting them on one arm of the sofa and ordering his slave to move round to the side and lick the soles of his feet. JT was just getting into his stride when Karl decided he couldn’t stand the tickling any more and swung his feet round to the floor again.

JT was ordered to move back round to the front of the sofa from where Karl helped him on board, face down with his feet in his master’s lap. A few turns of gaffer tape soon fastened JTs ankles together and Karl gripped his legs tightly under his left arm. The tickling started in earnest. Karl started gently and worked gradually up to rubbing the soles of the helpless boy’s feet very robustly with his knuckles. JT writhed and jerked in a very pleasing manner but he was getting a bit noisy and Karl didn’t want to gag him – yet!

Karl released JT’s legs and sat him up next to him on the sofa. He wanted to get to know his new acquaintance better before subjecting him to further torment. Both boys sat together talking for about half an hour with Karl’s left arm around JT’s shoulders and his right hand fondling his chest, his chin and his belly quite tenderly. Both boys noticed the physical reaction displayed by the other and neither made any attempt to withdraw.

“Right, that’s enough Mr. Nice Guy, time for more punishment,” declared Karl disentangling himself from his new friend and tonight’s plaything with a vicious nipple cripple. Perhaps he should have gagged JT before doing that? “But, before we start, we can’t have Max disturbed when he comes home, can we? If he knows something’s going on in here, he’ll only poke his nose in. Now, where did I put that tape?”

Karl reached for the much depleted roll of gaffer tape and decided that there would still be plenty for the job he had in mind. “Open up and bend over, Slave.” JT lowered his chest and opened his mouth. Karl attached the tape just under JT’s right ear and pulled it tightly into his open mouth and round his head four times. This made for a very uncomfortable experience, but not a completely silencing gag.

“I’ve just had a rather tiring evening; I could do with putting my feet up. Slave, you are now a foot-stool.” So saying Karl laid JT’s cargo shorts and polo shirt on the floor so that he could kneel on them and then positioned his slave with his feet against the sofa. “Sit on your heels and bend over.”

JT was now bent in three facing away from his master who positioned his feet comfortably (for Karl) on his back. Karl found that, if he slouched forwards, he could hook his toes under the unfortunate American’s nose which he did from time to time in between holding a “conversation”. Well, it was more like an interrogation, really. Karl would ask a question and JT would shake or nod his head. JT didn’t get a turn to ask questions.

After about half an hour Karl said that his appalling little brother and his mother would be home soon and that they’d better call it a night. Giving JT a hefty slap on his baggy little white boxers he suggested, “If we’re going to wrestle again, let’s dress properly next time and do it in Speedos.”

I’m not sure whether, “Chh”, either meant “Ouch” or “Yes”.

Karl sat on JT’s lower back and painstakingly removed all the gaffer tape from his wrists. “OK, you can finish off for yourself now”.

As both boys finished getting dressed and JT made vain attempts to remove the traces of gaffer tape glue, they heard Mrs. K’s car pull up.

“Hi, Mum, this is JT, he’s new round here. He’s got to go now. Can he come round for tea on Friday?”

JT HAD arrived!

THE END

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Bumping this because it got lost in the older stuff. Sorry, Team!
In the words of my Guru: if you have the power, abuse it!
If the Team think this is unreasonable, one of you can remove this post.

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Is this new? I don't recall reading it before. Glad to be reading it now.

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It was on the other version of the site.
Glad you've caught up with it.

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Here's the next story in the sequence: https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=8175