Teen Boy Feet Novels & Stories

About an hour after, a croaky voice broke the silence. “Are you still afraid, Allyssa?”, asked the boy sitting very close to her. He’s about a year or two older than the girl and the others. His physique was somewhat odd. Everything about him was yellowish, from his lush hair to his skin, his eyes, and even his teeth. Aside from that, he’s a gorgeous lad with an already muscular body at an early age. “I’m okay now, Takif! I’m not scared anymore!”, Allyssa answered gleefully.

Then, he lifted his own foot and began to hop along behind her, mimicking her exact movements. Hearing the thumping behind her, Eleanor turned around. Seeing the little boy perfectly mirroring her awkward limp, her face fell. "Theo." "What is it?" Theo looked up at her with his innocent face. Eleanor pursed her lips slightly, the corners of her mouth turning down in displeasure. Smart Theo noticed she was unhappy. He scratched his head again. "Auntie, are you upset?" "I am." "I'm hopping like this because my ankle is injured. But your foot is perfectly fine. Copying my movements like that... well, other people might see it as rude. They might think you're mocking someone who is hurt."

I paid off every debt, cut off every way to reach me, and spent the last of my money on a train ticket heading to the south. I was living life rough and just barely scraping by. However, as my legs never got proper treatment, the damage to them became permanent. The pain would drive me insane almost every day. But, as enough time passed, I became numb to it…

The boy holding the sac grunts as he does his best to keep the sac steady. And then she fucking cried! I throw a combo of punches at the bag and the boy falls over. He’s a newbie. Only fourteen years old and still too scrawny to hold up for a longer period of time. The pride in his eyes as I asked him, and not his friends, to assist me pleased me a great deal. The young men often look up to me, admiring me for who I am and what I do. I don’t mind. I will happily help them become a goon working under me.

The fool screams and wiggles to get away and fight back. I bring my foot away in pretense I'm implanting it back to the floor, only to aim a straight kick to his torso. I hit super hard with a malignant force that doesn't just break his ribs, but uplift him and missile him across to slam into a wall with a cry. "Phew," I stand back and clap my hands. "That should be the last of- the girls!" I find the four teens huddled in a corner by the front steps of the old building and scoot closer to them. They react frightfully, three of them seeming to be putting an anxious guard around their fourth who's weeping the most and clutching her body as she shivers.

Three of these humans were teenagers – two boys and a girl. The boys were charming, blessed with features that would turn the heads of any who saw them. Both of the boys were tall, but one was taller than the other. The shorter one had beautiful curly black hair and a well sculpted face. His eyes were gentle yet filled with strength, and his build was relatively good. The taller one was also a beautiful boy. His long blonde hair fell to his shoulders and his well-trimmed beard made him look a tad bit more mature. Although the sky was still a bit dark since the sun wasn’t fully up, one could see the beautiful sky if he/she looked into the boy’s eyes. They were blue and beautiful like turquois

he added a little worried. I raised my eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "Most of the sizes here starts at 8," he answered. "R-Really?" I winced a bit. "How about kids size?" "Kids here don't wear slippers or any kind of footwear unless they turn 12 where their feet turn size 8."

A single tear rolls down his face but still, he says nothing. I smash the mallet down hard onto the top of his foot, leaving only 3 toes untouched. As the mallet makes contact, a sickening crunch can be heard as the bones in his foot pop through his flesh. I hit the same spot again and again, turning his foot into a pile of mush, save the last 3 untouched toes. "We needed the girl!" He squeals out as sweat breaks out on his forehead and protrudes from his arm pits creating a river down his sides.

Every conversation seemed to be a mirror of the one outside. I walked toward the back exit, the air in the room feeling too thin to breathe. On my way out, I passed a group of teenagers sitting on the equipment crates. They were the ones who usually ran messages for Theo, the ones who looked up to him like he was a god. They stopped talking when I got close. One of them, a boy no older than fourteen, spat on the floor near my boot.