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      “We’re going to play a little game,” Catherine went on, tossing the ring idly in her
palm.  She lifted a foot, showing him her sole and wriggling her toes.  Randall never
thought he’d ever grow tired of that sight, and he wasn’t tired of it now; even so, he
would have given a great deal to be a long way away from it.
      “This is for the ultimate prize, Randall baby.  The home cup.  My tootsie
here—you’ve met, yes?  Splendid.  Anyway, Tootsie is going to have some fun with your poor
little cock.  It’ll be more than fun, though…something on the order of a test of your
moral fortitude.  You see, she’s going to do her level best to turn you on and make your
ridiculous, pasty-white arse cum like a motherfucker.  If she fails, fine.  You’ll have
succeeded in proving that you’re capable of thinking of something besides spilling your
stuff.  That you have—just perhaps—learned something from your ordeal.  In that case,
you’ll have earned a reprieve.
      “But if Tootsie makes you cum…oh dear.”  Catherine held up a needle, twisting it
between thumb and forefinger with a meaningful smirk.  “Then you’ll be a very sorry little
boy indeed, with a pair of ventilated balls.  Shall we begin?  Say hello to Tootsie.”
      When Catherine made her proposal, Randall had actually felt himself relaxing a bit.
 Surely there was nothing to fear here; he had never felt less like cumming in his life,
even if Catherine’s beautiful feet had a starring role in the drama.  
      But as she caught his cock between her silky toes and began manipulating it, as
deftly and subtly as she would with her hands, he became suddenly nervous.  
      Because Catherine’s toes felt very good on his cock, uninhibited as it now was by
the pinch of the steel ring.  Randall grew hard almost instantly and stayed hard.  His
balls felt enveloped by a warm glow of pleasure as “Tootsie” continued her work, reminding
him of how marvelous it would be to unburden themselves.
      “No,” he whimpered.  “No, please don’t…no…”
      “Yes,” Catherine gloated.  “Yes, very much so.  Don’t you want to cum, darling?  My
poor, deprived Randall.  I’ll let you squirt oodles of hot cum all over Tootsie.  I’ll
squish it up between my toes, wriggle them so you can see it dripping from them.  Think
how good it would feel…and all you have to do is let go…give up.  Come on, poor baby.  You
know you want to!”
      Tootsie’s sister had now been brought into play as well; once again Randall’s
cockhead found itself pinched between one set of toes while another stroked up and down
the underside of his shaft.  As Tootsie’s sister moved up and down, her warm, smooth heel
came to rest again and again on his sac—not heavily or painfully, but with a gentle,
insinuating rhythm that Randall found irresistible.  
      He wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, he knew.  The spirit was
willing, but the flesh was weak, far too weak….