By Reptyle
Name’s Zayne. I had known my tickle-buddy Jimmy for a few months now. I never thought I’d find someone into tickling in Pittsburgh, but he emailed me through the message boards and before long, we had a semi-regular thing going on. He loves roleplaying, coming up with some scenario involving authority and/or interrogation and tickling me until I broke. When he first explained it, I thought it was all a bit excessive, but once I started getting into it, I found it to be pretty hot.
So we were chatting one night, making plans to hook up, when Jimmy suggested a threesome with another regular of his, a guy named Mat. Jimmy didn’t have any pictures of him, but described him as a 35-year-old stud whose feet are insanely ticklish. I was up for whatever, so we set a date. When the day came, I drove out to Jimmy’s house in the suburb of North Versailles. He lives far enough from Pittsburgh proper that he has his own driveway, and an unfamiliar SUV was parked beside his car. Mat is already here apparently.
“Zayne!” Jimmy greeted when he answered the door.
“What’s up?” I said. We pecked on the lips and he let me inside.
“So this is Mat,” Jimmy said and motioned over to…
“Mr. V?!” I said, shocked to see my 11th grade English teacher Matthew Vilkas sitting on Jimmy’s loveseat. I didn’t even know he was gay, since he never discussed his personal life in class, and his stern demeanor made it hard to picture him even enjoying sex, much less any kind of kink. He was always easy on the eyes though; his buzzcut black hair had some traces of gray, and he had a nice stubble beard. He stood up and stoically nodded my way.
“Zayne…Fairbanks, was it? Fancy meeting you here,” he said as we shook hands. “Just call me Mat by the way. You haven’t been in my class in 10 years.”
Jimmy chuckled. “Well this is new. Never thought I’d reunite a teacher and student through tickle play.”
Mat shrugged and replied, “When you’re a teacher it’s only a matter of time before you run into a now-adult student in a very adult context. At least my kids are teenagers when I get them and not like 8 or something. That’d be a little too weird. So how’ve you been?”
“Well…” I gave a brief rundown of my post-high school life: Associate’s degree in culinary, work as a cook at a nursing home, active in the local gay and kink communities. Jimmy asked if we were comfortable fooling around, but Mat and I both agreed that we could do worse. With that said, Jimmy had the perfect roleplay scenario for us…
*******
Duqesne University. Summer semester. It seemed like an average day when I was summoned to University President James Logan’s office after my evening class. I was hoping it wasn’t about what I thought it was. When I got there, my English professor Matthew Vilkas was there too and glanced up at me. His face was always hard to read, but I could tell he was worried. Did Dr. Logan really find out about us?
“He’s here,” Mat said, “Now what’s this about?”
“Mr. Fairbanks have a seat please,” Dr. Logan said. “As both of you know, Duquesne is a Catholic university and we hold our students and faculty to the highest ethical standards. It has come to my attention that the two of you have been having…shall we say, extracurricular activities that aren’t appropriate for this college. And by that I mean a sexual affair.”
“What?!” Mat replied, “That’s ridiculous! Where the hell did you hear something like that!”
“Language! And don’t play me for a fool. The late night visits Mr. Fairbanks made to the English department last semester?”
I replied, “I went there for help on an assignment!”
“After finals week was over?”
Mat shook his head. “Dr. Logan there is zero proof that Zayne and I did anything inappropriate.”
“Are you willing to bet the farm on that if I forward this to the Ethics Board? Mat you’d lose your job, and Zayne you could be expelled. Maybe the community college can teach you how to be a smarter whore.”
“Don’t talk to him that way!” Mat said with a growl in his voice.
Dr. Logan snorted. “Defending your boyfriend’s honor?”
I stepped in. “Dr. Logan, when you said you could forward this to the Ethics Board, that means you haven’t already. So what are you getting at exactly?”
“You’re thinking. Smart boy,” Dr. Logan said as he got up to close his window blinds. “If you two are willing to work with me, I might be willing to make this whole nasty episode disappear. It’s what we in the Catholic tradition do best.”
“Look,” Mat said, “If you have an issue with me as a professor, that’s between you and me. Leave Zayne out of this.”
“Oh no, this involves both of you. Our students need to be held accountable too, Professor.” Dr. Logan said as he pulled out a duffle bag. Mat and I exchanged confused glances. Dr. Logan continued, “I want you two to take off your shoes and kneel on the floor.” We reluctantly complied, taking our shoes off and getting on our knees. What did he have planned? “Socks too, gentlemen,” he ordered. He could have said that in the first place, I thought, but I could tell he was enjoying this. Mat sighed as he peeled off his argyle socks. His feet were tan, lean, and a little hairy. I took off my athletic ankle socks. Once our feet were bare enough for his liking, we resumed kneeling. Dr. Logan took four strands of rope out of his bag and proceeded to tie Mat’s hands behind his back and his ankles together.
“Is all this really necessary?” Mat asked as he was bound.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Dr. Logan replied. Once he finished, he tied me the same way. I stayed quiet at this part, not quite knowing what to say or what would happen next.
“So what now?” Mat asked, agitated.
“Well, Matthew, since you have so much to say tonight, I’ll begin with you.” Dr. Logan said. He grabbed the rope binding Mat’s ankles and lightly danced his fingertips on the bottom of his foot. Mat shuddered and grunted at the sensation, which gave way to giggling.
“Th-that tickles,” he said.
“Good,” Dr. Logan replied. He sat on Mat’s legs and raked his nails up and down both soles. Mat shrieked with laughter; the normally-stern professor was going crazy as his bare feet were tickled. He flopped like a fish trying to get away, but Dr. Logan’s weight pinned him down. On one hand I was turned on watching Mat–who never so much as smiled at me even after sex–laughing against his will and being dominated by someone older and more powerful. But on the other hand, I dreaded the fact that I’d be next, since I knew my feet were ticklish as hell.
“I CAN’T BREATHE!” Mat screamed through his cackling.
“Oh really,” Dr. Logan said. He stopped the heavy tickling and just lightly dragged his fingertips up and down Mat’s soles; Mat was on the floor writhing from the touch, his beet-red face a clenched grin.
“Heh-heh-heh please sir, I can’t take that for long…” he said.
Without stopping, Dr. Logan replied, “Matthew, as a professor I expect you to set an example for our students, such as showing Mr. Fairbanks here how to take punishment, since he’s next…” Dr. Logan resumed the heavy tickling, and Mat’s shrieks filled the room once again.
“NO MORE! NO MORE!” he pleaded.
“Then tell me,” Dr. Logan said without stopping or slowing the tickling, raising his voice just enough to be heard through Mat’s laughter, “Did you or did you not have homosexual relations with Zayne Fairbanks?”
“YES!”
“What did you say?”
“YES!!!”
Dr. Logan went back to light tickling, this time tracing his fingers across the wrinkles in Mat’s soles. “How did it start?”
“…T-towards the end of the semester…I saw him on Grindr…He didn’t know it was me because…my profile picture doesn’t show my face…He messaged me first and things just went from there…”
“I see,” Dr. Logan said. He finally stopped tickling Mat and got up off his legs.
“Is that true, Zayne?”
“Yes,” I answered, looking away. “Does this mean you won’t tickle me?”
“Oh I didn’t say that,” Dr. Logan said as he positioned himself on the backs of my legs. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh, I repeated in my head over and over, but once he started tickling my feet, I held out for maybe five seconds. His nails felt like electricity on my soles, sending horrible tickling sensations through my body. I was used to quick playful pokes and squeezes, but not prolonged tickle torture where I was helpless to stop it. Minutes passed; I have no idea how many, but I was hysterical and begging him to stop. But like with Mat, Dr. Logan didn’t let up until I was breathless and wheezing. And also like with Mat, he didn’t actually *stop* the foot-tickling, just lightened it to feathery strokes that I learned were maddening in their own way.
“Mr. Fairbanks,” Dr. Logan said, “Did you seduce Professor Vilkas in order to raise a failing grade in his class?”
“…N-n-no sir…I already ha-had an A average…” It actually made sense why he didn’t fully stop tickling us while asking his questions; I couldn’t think straight enough to form a lie if I wanted to.
“That much is good then. So during your fornications, who topped who?”
“…H-he topped me…”
“Did you decide you wanted to be on the bottom or did he make that choice?”
“…H-he did.”
“Every time?”
“Y-y-yeah…”
“That’s a shame….” Dr. Logan said, then resumed heavy tickling.
I screamed and swore through my laughter, “JESUS CHRIST!…PLEASE STOP!!”
“Why should I? What if I wanted to fuck you right now, boy? Would you let me do that if it meant I’d stop tickling you?”
“YES!! YES!!” I cried. Anything to make it stop!
“Maybe I don’t want to fuck you; maybe I’d rather keep doing this…” he said as he continued to tickle my soles. I begged him desperately, until he finally stopped. He turned to face me, and felt up my throbbing dick. “You seem to be enjoying this though.”
Mat chimed in, “Alright sir, you’ve had your fun at our expense, now let us go.”
“Let you go? I think punishment should be a learning experience. You, Matthew can learn a lesson in humility and you, Zayne, can learn how to take charge.”
“What do mean?” I asked.
“I’ll show you,” he said as he untied my bonds and helped me to my feet. “If you really want to torture someone with tickling, lube up the bottoms of their feet with some lotion and take a plastic hairbrush to them.” He handed me a lotion bottle. “Give it a try,” he said and looked towards Mat, still tied up on the floor.
“Okay…” I said and smiled.
“Wait, what?!” Mat said. He wasn’t so keen on the idea himself. “Come on, that’s enough. Let me go!” He planted his feet into the floor in protest; Dr. Logan straightened his legs out and laid his own legs across Mat’s ankles to immobilize his feet. I squeezed a small amount of lotion into my palm.
“You’ll need way more than that; just slather it on thick,” Dr. Logan said. As I started doing so, Mat curled his toes and growled; even this seemed to tickle. “There’s a brush in the duffel bag behind you, side pocket,” Dr. Logan directed. I looked into the bag as Mat’s protests continued, and found the brush. It was all black with round plastic ends and padding underneath the bristles. I looked up and met Mat’s gaze.
“Oh fuck…” he said and hung his head back in defeat. I went back to his feet and his protests began anew as Dr. Logan pinned back his big toes and nodded. “No no no no-AHAHAHAHAHA!!!…” As I ran the brush up and down Mat’s soles, he went from earsplitting cackling to laughing so hard he went silent, his mouth frozen open as hot tears streamed down his eyes. The closest he could come to begging was a breathy, whispery “Stahhhhhhhhhhhh…”
Dr. Logan smiled evilly and said, “I think he wants you to stop. What do you think, Zayne?”
“I can keep going,” I replied. I tickled Mat’s feet with the brush for a solid 10 minutes until my arm started getting tired; I tapered down the tickling to slow, light strokes, then gave Mat’s soles a little smack with the flat end of the brush. “I think I’m good now,” I said as Mat slumped into the carpet, exhausted and utterly humiliated.
Dr. Logan agreed. “I think Professor Vilkas here has learned his lesson.”
*******
“Holy fuck that was intense…” Mat said as Jimmy untied him.
“And you held out without using the safe word,” Jimmy said.
I stretched my arms since I really was tired from that, and said, “That was nice. I don’t get to be the tickler that often.”
“You’re good at it,” Mat said.
The rest of our night was spent in a more…base manner. Once our sexual appetites were sated, Mat and I exchanged contact info, promising to keep in touch. After I got back to my apartment and started getting ready for bed, my phone’s text alert went off. It was Mat. “Had a great time tonight. Lemme know if you wanna get together sometime, just us.” Well then. Could this be the start of something new?