This is a work of fiction and does not include any characters based on real people. It does contain some scenes involving male-male sexual activity with minors: if you are likely to be offended by this, or if it is not legal for you to read it, please read no further.
I do not know what time of the night it was, nor how long I slept. It was not a crash that awakened me. In fact it was a soft tread on the stairs. Mine is a largish house, four miles from it's nearest neighbour,and far too large for a lonely widower. My only son was killed in a motor cycle accident six years ago; Joan, my wife, succumbed to breast cancer two years later. I took early retirement from the police force shortly afterwards. I sleep only lightly these days, and generally with my old service revolver under the pillow. Not that I have any ammunition for the gun, but I wouldn't tell that to any intruder. Talking of which....
Silently I slid out from beneath the sheets, donned dressing gown and slippers and tiptoed onto the landing, the revolver in my hand. I was sure that it was safe to do this as there were six rooms on the first floor. My room was in the middle. I reasoned that a burglar, unless he knew what he was looking for, would be sure to start with one of the end ones. I was right. At the far end of the landing a flashlight beam could be seen moving about. I have never understood why burglars use flashlights: switching on the room light attracts far less attention. Silently I tiptoed to the open door and stood still in the doorway. It is possible to become invisible if you stand still enough. If an intruder isn't looking for you, because he is sure you are somwhere else, he usually won't see you until you move or do something else to attract his attention - all policemen learn this trick. The beam flicked around the room again, momentarily blinding me as it swept over me. I knew better than to react until it had passed, then I stepped forward, relieved him of the flashlight and, pressing the gun to his chin quietly remarked, "Don't move a muscle!" He froze. Turning the flashlight on him,I stepped back again to the doorway. This meant that the elbow of my flashlight arm could operate the light switch. Trembling in my spare bedroom stood a very frightened youth of about thirteen. His florid features were crowned by an unruly mop of mousy coloured hair. His green eyes were wide and unwaveringly fixed on the pistol. I stepped sideways from the doorway, an obvious precaution against being surprised from behind if he had an accomplice. His eyes registered the movement but nothing else, so I surmised that he was alone. "Take a step backwards", I ordered. He did so. "Sit!" He sat on the edge of the bed. "On your hands". He complied. "Now," I said quietly, "you can start telling me what you are doing in somebody else's house in the dead of the night. How did you get in for a start?" "Top windae downstairs," he began in tones which sounded as if they had been learned in the Gorbals, "you shutted it but you didnae latch it". It was true. Policemen are the world's worst at securing their homes, just as doctors make the worst patients, but to get his wiry frame through that aperture must have been no mean trick. "OK, so what were you after then Jock" "It's no Jock it's Kevin", he replied irritably, "And do you need tae keep that thing pointing at me?" "It'll not hurt you if you do as you're told," I replied quietly and menacingly, "but I'll tell you this. If I have to pull the trigger, it won't be pointed at your head or your heart. It will be pointed straight at your bollocks, and at this range I couldn't miss. After that I take off your knee-caps, and then we start shooting off fingers and toes. I don't like little boys who break into other people's homes. I especially don't like little boys who break into mine. Now tell me, have you got form" He said nothing, but the expression on his face told me everything. "Oh deary, deary me! You'll be going down for a big one this time then, Kevin. Throw away the key job. You'll have seen the inside of a detention centre before then, and you know what they do to good looking little boys like you." Tears had begun to spring, but I wasn't going to give way. Besides I could probably teach the young rogue a lesson without calling the police. Taking the law into my own hands would be much more fun. "OK, Kevin. Here's what you're going to do. My snub nosed friend here," I waved the revolver, "is pointed straight at your bollocks. If he barks he will take off your genitals swiftly and painfully. To keep your wedding tackle intact you just need to do exactly as I tell you. Now slip your shoes off, and kick them backwards under the bed." Kevin obviously thought he was streetwise enough to see where this was going, but I wasn't having that. "- and you can take that grin off your face or they'll be calling you ' the grinning eunuch' . Now take your socks off as well". He did so - no trace of a smile now. His feet were clean, beautifully formed, the tops looking suitably bony. I took in the not-too-long toes, his big toes not quite outreaching his first toes. He looked slightly flattish of foot, but the effect was pleasing. Before he could see me sizing up his feet I moved on - quietly. "OK, Kevin. Now you can very slowly take off the rest. If you start to feel bashful just remember that the nearest other human being is four miles away, and I won't hesitate to make it very painful for you. I watched as he stripped for me. I admired his perfect little bum, his four inch cock hanging in front of low hanging balls. His ribs showed at the front below prominent tits. Legs and arms looked lean but muscular. The effect was of a smallish but attractive teenage boy. "OK, lie down put your arms out at the side." This was the difficult bit. Without losing my aim I had to obtain two pair of police handcuffs from the drawer, then snap them onto his wrists - fastening the other halves to the bed frame. It was a double bed so that would stretch his arms right out. Having accomplished that successfully I could put the gun away - it wasn't loaded anyhow. A couple of lengths of cloth covered clothes line served to lash his ankles to the foot of the bed frame. There was no mattress on the bed, only an old candlewick bedspread. "Right then Kevin, this is how it works. You can wriggle, shout, laugh, cry as much as you want. By the time we've finished you won't feel like breaking into other people's homes. It might take us a while, several hours tonight, and probably the next few days too, but we've plenty of time. Before you try to tell me we haven't - we have as much time as I want us to have. Now shall we begin?" I sat astride the boy and began probing in his armpits with my fingers. The effect was instantaneous. "No! man, no!" he managed to squeak between high pitched nervous giggling. "Only the beginning,Kevin", I assured him. The work on his armpits lasted several minutes, after which I moved down to his prominent ribs. Whilst my fingers worked at his sides I set my tongue to work across his chest - paying special attention to his tits. In seconds they had begun to harden. I could feel the first stirrings of his erection beneath my own chest. This could be even better than I had expected. His breathing had become laboured by now, though less than ten minutes had passed. "Aww, please man!", he spluttered. I slipped my hands between his legs, fingers working on the insides of his thighs, and down lower. Now for my favourite bit. I slid downwards, running my rapidly working fingers down the insides of his thighs, knees and calves as I went. By the time I reached his ankles he knew where I was going. "Oh, no man! Not ma feet. I cannae stand being tickled on ma feet. I go mad when I'm tickled on ma feet!" I grinned. "I should like to see that, Kevin" So saying my fingers started to work on what passed for arches on his lovely soft soles. He had not exaggerated. He virtually explode with what must have been laughter, but was so violent that it was difficult to tell. I started to lick around his left sole, moving my fingers to the region of his toes. The rest of his body thrashed about wildly, but I held his left foot firm as I began to suck on his toes. I was surprised by the softness of his toes, and his soles. The faint odour of boy's feet, coupled with the distinctive salty taste, was fantastic. I brushed the arch of his foot with my finger nails - causing yet more thrashing about. I kept up the work on this foot for a good quarter of an hour before moving on to the other foot. What with his feet, his chest, his ribs, his legs, his armpits and his balls, he took a good three hours of punishment. He was exhausted and his face was beetroot coloured. Then I moved in for the kill. His erection had never faltered since I first noticed it. Now I began to wank him steadilly. It was a question of judging the right moment to stop. After I brought him to the brink for the third time he was pleading. I went for one more time. Then I moved in and sucked him off, swallowing every drop of his boy juice. Kevin had taken his punishment. Next morning I went to the spare room. I had threatened to keep it up for days, but he looked to have learned his lesson. He lay naked and shivering, spreadeagled on my spare bed. I toyed with his feet for a few minutes before sucking on his toes once more. I moved up and tickled under his armpits for a moment more. "OK, Kevin. I'm going to let you go. Do you think you've learned your lesson?" "He was still shivering. "Aye mister, I have - but would it be OK if I came back for a wee bit more now and again?"