None of the more submissive stuff was never my thing. I simply enjoyed the pleasure I gave women through pampering and tickling their feet. But for me... it was an complete aphrodisiac. One day my wife (who at the time was my girlfriend of about a month) discovered an online profile of mine that had a photo of a girl being tickled on her feet while locked in stocks and asked me what it was about. I had already licked, sucked, and tickled her hot toes and soles some but not at the level I really. " Charlie practically flew out of his clothes. But the next message froze him. "Make it up to me." What the fuck does that mean??" Make it up to me. Make me forgive you."Charlie sat still on his couch, butt naked and holding his phone in one hand and a marker in the other. He felt an overwhelming urge to make Sam feel better, and finally chose to write, "Sorry, Sam," along his cock, with a cute little sad face following it. He sent a picture, and waited.Five minutes. Ten minutes. Seventeen. ’ Being alone with him unnerved me. ‘All right. Well, I’ll see you later.’ ‘Okay.’ I watched him leave and I busied myself with putting my things away. After all, I was working that night, and all I would want to do afterward was collapse into the bed. * * * * * ‘Damn,’ I muttered. It was getting very late, and I’d only managed to find homes for half of my stuff. I threw a sandwich together for my dinner and went into the other room to get my outfit. I ate quickly and took a fast shower. I. Christmas was approaching up on the surface and down here things always got busy. The large number of drunk drivers killing themselves and their fellow commuters meant we always had a higher than average monthly intake in the New Souls Department. The Thanksgiving holiday meant Christmas was less than a month away, and Lucifer always in a bad mood during December.About two weeks before Thanksgiving, Simon called me into his office. This wasn’t too unusual for in the past 50 years, I had become.