Guffaw

By Keith Steeclif

 

 

 

I awoke in a daze to the smell of new carpet and realized I was lying on the floor. I rolled onto my back and looked up. At first, I thought I must still be dreaming for I was laying on the floor at the end of three stocks and six white socked feet were sticking out from them. Realizing I was awake and suddenly panicked as to where I was and how I got there, I stood up.

Strapped down to three padded tables were three absolutely gorgeous men. None of them wore shirts. One was wearing boxer shorts, one in sweats, and one in blue jeans. They were all looking at me.

“What’s going on? Where are we?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” The man in the middle said. We all just woke up here a few minutes ago. Can you get us free?”

I tried to release the men. The stocks were locked, but I couldn’t discern how they were connected. They were strapped to the tables by multiple padded cords around their limbs that came from holes in the table surface. I couldn’t pull them free and the tables were enclosed, so I couldn’t get to the cords from underneath.

After trying in vain to release the men, I tried to find a way out of the room. There was a door, but it had no visible handles, locks, or hinges. Near the door was a keypad.

“What should I try?” I asked. But just then, a TV imbedded high in the wall came to life. On the screen was a puppet head.

“Hello, Keith,” an eerie voice said, “I want to play a game. The three men strapped before you are Lance, Kyle, and Derrick. Two of these men are here involuntary. The four of you share one thing in common. Discover what that is, and exploit it if you want to gain your freedom. The keypad will release the men and open the door, but be careful. If you enter an incorrect code, the door will seal shut and you’ll be trapped forever. In order to begin, you’ll have to do some soul searching.” The screen then went blank.

“What is this?” the first man, Lance asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered, “but whoever brought us here expects us to figure it out. He said we all have one thing in common. We have to figure out what that is. What do you guys do?”

“I’m a personal trainer,” Lance said.

The next man, Kyle said, “I work in PR.”

The third man, Derrick, hesitated and then said, “I work in the entertainment field.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Derrick paused again and then said, “I’m an escort.”

“You’re a hustler,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Derrick admitted.

“Well, I’m a writer,” I said, so I don’t see any connection there. “How’d you guys get here? I remember sitting at my computer surfing the web when I felt a sting in the back of my neck. The next thing I remember was waking up here on the floor.”

“I was at home too,” Lance said, “sound asleep.”

“I was meeting a new client,” Derrick said, “I went to his hotel room and he was in the bathroom. He told me to mix myself a drink. It must have been drugged.”

Kyle said, “I was at the gym. I remember showering and changing and getting in my car, and then that’s it.”

“Okay, wait,” I said. “Lance, you were sleeping. What were you wearing?”

“Just these boxers.”

“No socks?”

“No, why?”

“You’re all wearing socks now; white anklets all the same brand and they look new.”

“The voice on the screen said you’d have to do some soul searching to begin. Maybe he meant s-o-l-e searching,” Kyle said.

“Yeah,” Derrick said, “Take off our socks and see if there’s a clue.”

I moved to Derrick first. All three men were nothing short of spectacular with well muscled, tanned physiques and incredibly good looks. I pulled off Derrick’s socks to expose a pair of gorgeous bare feet.

“There’s a big number on your left sole,” I said, “The number 5.”

I pulled off Kyle’s socks. His feet were also perfect. “There’s a number on your right sole, a 3.”

Lance was the most amazing of the three with dark olive skin, jet black hair, and dark eyes. When I pulled off his socks, his feet were almost irresistible with tanned tops and lighter soles. His toes stood in a perfect descending row. He wiggled those toes slightly as I exposed his feet to the air, making his soles wrinkle in the most appealing way. “And a 9 on your right sole.”

“That must be the combination to the keypad,” Derrick said.

“But you heard what he said, if I put in a wrong number we’ll be locked in here for good. What order should I put them in?”

“Left to right,” Lance said, “Just the way you’d read them.”

I went to the keypad and held my breath as I entered 935. I heard a click. I went to the door but it wouldn’t open. I went to Derrick’s stocks but they were still locked. Then, on the far wall, I noticed a seam that had separated. It was a small door in the wall that I hadn’t noticed before.

Opening the door, there was a pail of soapy water, a round-headed scrub brush and a note. I took out the note and read it aloud, “Clean up the mess I made and you’ll get a clue to how to gain the information you need for your freedom.”

“What does that mean?” Kyle asked. “What mess?”

I looked around. Except for the three tables with stocks, the room was completely empty. The carpet was new and everything was spotless.

“Maybe he means the writing on our feet,” Derrick guessed, “Maybe you’re suppose to clean it off. There could be another message hidden underneath.”

“Or maybe he’s watching from a hidden camera,” Lance said, “and after you do what he wants he’ll give us another clue.”

I took the pail and scrub brush out of the cubby and moved to the end of the stocks. Kneeling in front of Lance’s bare soles, I dipped the brush in the water. I then started to scrub the number off of Lance’s right sole.

Lance immediately burst out in hysterical laughter. The number was written with some powdery substance that came right off, but I couldn’t resist scrubbing longer than necessary as Lance howled with laughter. His toes wiggled wildly and his whole body jerked about, but he was secured so tightly that his defenseless, bare sole was at my complete mercy. But I only kept it up for about a minute before I stopped.

“Sorry,” I said as I stood and moved over to Kyle.

“That’s okay,” Lance panted. “I’ve always been crazy ticklish.”

Kyle looked at me with wide eyes. “Go as fast as you can,” he said, “I’m really ticklish too.”

I knelt before Kyle’s bare soles, forgetting our predicament and relishing the task before me. As I started to scrub the number off his foot, Kyle too broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

After only a few seconds, he screamed, “Wait! Stop! I can’t stand it!”

I pulled the brush back. Kyle’s toes were wiggling like mad and his laughter continued even though the tickling had stopped. After several seconds, he asked, “Is it clean?”

“No,” I lied, “There’s a little more.”

Kyle took three deep breathes and then said, “Okay, hurry up.”

“I attacked his bare sole with the brush again, scrubbing for a few more seconds while he screamed with laughter.

Then I moved to Derrick. “I’m sorry in advance if you’re ticklish too.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he said. Derrick was also super ticklish, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight. I scrubbed his sole for over a minute before putting the brush down. He was red-faced and panting.

“Well, there’s nothing underneath,” I said and looked around, “and I don’t see anything new.”

We waited for a few seconds and then Kyle said, “I hate to even suggest this, but maybe that was the clue.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked.

“Maybe that’s what we all have in common, that we’re all really ticklish. Are you ticklish?” he asked, looking at me.

“No, not really,” I said.

“Wait a minute,” Derrick said, “You’re name is Keith? What’s your last name?”

“Steeclif.”

“Keith Steeclif, I know that name. You write stories about tickling guys and post them on the Internet.”

“How do you know that?” Lance asked.

“Someone’s been mailing me printouts of your stories for the past week. I wasn’t sure why, there was no return address or explanation. I thought maybe it was a potential customer trying to let me know what he was into.”

“Is this true?” Kyle asked, “Do you write about tickling guys?”

“Well, yeah, it’s true. That’s my thing. But I only write about it.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Derrick said. “The note said that you’d get a clue on how to gain the information you need for our freedom. Maybe he meant like through tickle torture.”

“But how is me tickling you guys going to get us the code to the keypad?”

“The voice said that only two of us are here involuntarily,” Kyle said. “Maybe if you’re into tickling guys one of us is into being tickled. If you can figure out who it is, maybe you can tickle the information out of him.”

“But that means that two of you are not into tickling. And the one that is won’t fess up to it because that’s part of the excitement. If he is into tickling, then I could end up tickling the other two of you pretty bad in order to figure out who is the one.”

Lance said, “Whoever likes to be tickled, if you just tell us I promise we will all tickle the crap out of you – as much as you want.” The other two men were silent.

“Okay,” I said, very excited but trying not to show it, “If that’s the way it is going to be, then let me apologize in advance to the two of you that are not going to like what I’m about to do.”

I moved toward Lance.

“No, please! Not me first. I swear, I really can’t stand being tickled, it can’t be me. Can you do one of the other guys first?”

“Okay,” I said and moved over to Kyle.

“No, not me. I don’t want to be first.”

“Well, I have to start somewhere,” I said and I stood at the head of his table and leaned over Kyle. Bringing my fingers down to his stomach, I started to roll my fingers slowly upward. Kyle burst out laughing almost immediately. He bucked his torso as much as he could, which was hardly anything at all.

“No, haa haa haa! Stop! Stop tickling! Haa haa haa!”

I brought my mouth right up to Kyle’s ear and said, “Oh, is poor Kyle ticklish? Kitchy, Kitchy, koo.” As my fingers moved up to his ribs, Kyle’s laughter increased.

“NO! Don’t! Stop!”

“Don’t stop, you say? Gladly. I just loved hyper-ticklish muscle boys like you, Kyle. I think I’ll tickle you for hours.”

When I hit his armpits, Kyle was screaming with laughter. I continued to verbally taunt him, speaking softly into his ear so the other two couldn’t hear. Kyle was laughing and quivering, but totally unable to prevent me from tickling every inch of his muscular frame. His abs flexed from the laughter, extenuating his washboard stomach. I tickled Kyle’s body for many minutes.

When I finally gave his a break, Kyle was completely breathless but all things considered in relatively good shape. Despite the fact that he was horrible ticklish, once the tickling ended he recovered quickly. I moved down to the end of the table.

“No, please,” Kyle begged, “Don’t tickle my feet. It’s not me, I swear.”

“To be honest with you, Kyle, I don’t care if it is you or not. You have adorable feet and I am going to tickle them. I’m just afraid that once I get started I won’t be able to stop.”

I knelt on the floor in front on his bare soles. I started with just an index finger down the center of each foot. But even this drove Kyle insane with laughter. As ticklish as his body was, his feet were much, much worse. He pleaded with me to stop until he was laughing so hard he couldn’t talk at all. But still I tickled his defenseless bare soles, making his toes wiggle like mad. I really was enraptured by his trembling feet as I tickled them without rest or mercy for several minutes.

As Kyle recovered during his second break, I told him how much I enjoyed tickling his feet.

“Now,” I said, “I really am just getting started. But if you tell me the code, I might consider stopping.”

“I don’t know it. It’s not me,” he mumbled. “Please, no more tickling.”

“I think he’s had enough,” Derrick said.

“Really? Because you’re next. Wouldn’t you rather I be sure it’s not him before I deliver the same torment to your ticklish flesh?” Derrick said nothing.

“Now, Kyle, one more chance before I attack those tender soles of yours again. What is the code?”

“I don’t know,” was all he could manage before I started lightly stroking his arches again. Kyle shouted “No!” before the laughter overcame him again. This time I remained standing, tickling his feet relentless and demanding that he tell me the code. After another several minutes of sole and toe tickling, I was satisfied that he was not the one and gave him the relief he so desired.

I then move to Derrick.

“I don’t suppose it will do any good to tell you it isn’t me.”

“No, it won’t,” I said simply as I moved to the head of his table and hovered my fingers over his ribs. “Kind of different not being the one in control, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Derrick said breathlessly as I dug into his ribs and he started laughing immediately. Derrick had a nice deep laugh. He didn’t become totally hysterical, like Kyle. He laughed steadily, wiggling and squirming, but unable to get away from my rolling fingers. As I moved down to his rock hard stomach and up to his deep armpits, his laughter would increase but still not to the point of complete hysterics.

Whispering in his ear, I said, “This must be radically different for you, being the one who is restrained. It must make you feel so vulnerable. I can tickle you as much as I want and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me. Does that make you nervous?”

Derrick was laughing hard, but managed to gasp, “Yeah.”

“A total loss of control, you are at my mercy. I bet it is kind of exciting too. Words can’t explain how much I love to tickle hot guys to the breaking point. I wonder how long you’ll last.”

Derrick laughed hard, but he didn’t go into the same ticklish spasms as Kyle. I was able to tickle Derrick for many minutes before I gave him his first break.

When I did, he recovered quickly, resuming normal breathing in just couple of minutes.

“You might be a challenge,” I said. “I’ll really have to work to get you going. Let’s move to your feet, they seemed to be much more ticklish.”

“They are,” Derrick said, “much more.”

“I wish I had a feather. Ever have your bare soles tickled with a feather?”

“No.”

“Oh, you’d love it. The light wispy strokes across your defenseless soles, between your tender toes. You’d be crazy in no time. But then again, there’s just nothing better for me than the feel of your warm skin as I slowly tickle you with my fingers.”

I knelt down before Derrick’s soles and started to tickle from his heels to his toes. As I moved slowly upward, his laughter became more and more desperate until he was in full hysterics.

“That’s better,” I said, “I like to get my men really laughing.”

Derrick’s toes were quite ticklish and his arches right along the outer edge were extremely sensitive. I exploited those areas for several minutes, keeping up the high-pitched laugher until Derrick’s voice started to crack. But I didn’t stop there. Unlike Kyle, who I gave a second rest, I stood up still tickling Derrick’s bare feet and demanding that he give me the code. He was laughing too hard to answer but when I asked him if he had the code he shook his head no. I continued tickling until I thought Derrick couldn’t take any more and then backed off.

Derrick was red-faced and glistening with a light coat of sweat. I felt bad to have taken him so far, but he seemed to have the endurance to tolerate it. He’d be awesome in a marathon tickle-tease session.

As Derrick slowly tried to recover, I moved to Lance. Getting down to his ear, I said, “I figured you were the one; deflecting me to the others so you’d be last.”

“No, it’s not me. One of them must have held out against you. Please, don’t tickle me.”

“To me honest, you’re my favorite. You are so adorable and your body is sooo hot. And your bare feet are to die for. I don’t care if you’re the one or not. I am going to tickle you to within an inch of your life.”

I used my index finger on Lance’s naval. He picked his head up to watch what I was doing. “No! No! Please, don’t tickle!” He started to laugh harder than the tickling warranted.

“My aren’t you the desperate one,” I whispered in his ear, “Since you’re last, I have to tickle you the worst. Otherwise, I’ll have to start all over on the other two. Not that I would object to that, but I don’t want to be here forever. I’d rather just take you home with me and tickle you all night long. Kitchy, kitchy, koo.” I started tracing his washboard abs.

“No! Oh God, please no, don’t do this.”

“Such a ticklish boy, Lance.” I moved up to his ribs and his laughter increased. He tried to plead more, but he was laughing too hard to say much. “Tickle, tickle, tickle. You’re so hot and ticklish, what a perfect man you are for a tickle fiend like me.”

I moved up to his armpits and thought Lance may actually break his bindimgs. But they held. “I love ticklish pits, don’t you? Just running my fingers lightly through your little tufts of hair. This must be maddening.”

Lance was hysterical. I continued tickling and taunting him for a few minutes. Then I said, “I’m having such a good time tickling your awesome body, but I’ve neglected your poor feetsies. I bet they/re itching for a good long tickling.”

“NO!” Lance managed to squeak between peals of hysterical laughter. I looked down toward his feet, but there was a bulge in my line of sight.

“Bingo,” I said, “I think we have a winner. Enjoying yourself, Lance?”

He was laughing too hard to respond. I moved done to his feet and didn’t give him a moment’s rest. I started slowing tickling his soles and Lance was so hysterical I wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. But the package in his boxer’s was telling a different story and I worked his bare feet over for several minutes, even licking his toes for good measure which made him absolutely insane.

Eventually, I was getting as tired as my three hapless victims. It was time for this to end. Climbing up on the table, I laid on top of Lance, my chest at his waist. My chest pressed to his boxers, I propped myself up on my elbows and started to tickle his ribs and armpits some more. As I did, I slowly and carefully drew my chest up and down.

It had the effect I wanted and despite Lance’s hysterical laughter, he managed a moan here and there. Slowly, carefully, I brought him close to the edge as I continued to tickle him without mercy. The other two men were still dazed and recovering and weren’t paying any attention to what I was doing.

As Lance got very close, I said, “Tell me the code or else I won’t finish this.”

That was the incentive Lance needed. “486!” he shouted, “It’s 486!”

I increased the speed of both my tickling and gyrations and in a matter of seconds Lance flex, tensed, and let out a long, laughing moan. I felt the reaction beneath my chest.

The moment he was done, I stood up and went back to his feet and started to tickle his bare soles vigorously.

“No!” he screamed, “No more, I can’t stand any more.”

“It’s far worse now, isn’t it, Lance,” I said. “Now that you are done, you are experiencing the true meaning of tickle torture.”

Lance was completely exhausted but I kept tickling until suddenly, Lance went completely silent. He’d passed out.

Checking that he was okay, I went to the keypad and entered the code. I heard a loud clicking noise and the door swung open. The men’s restraints also came loose.

Kyle immediately pulled himself out of his binds. The monitor came on and the eerie puppet head said, “Congratulations, gentlemen, you’ve managed to survive your ordeal and save your own lives. In the next room are your belongings and an envelope for each of you. Before you think about going to the police, I suggest you check the envelope carefully. It contains information that I am sure you would not like released to the public.”

“I’m getting the hell out of here,” Kyle said standing on wobbly legs and heading for the door.

I helped Derrick get free. “Sorry I had to do that to you,” I said. “I knew whoever it was that was here voluntarily would want some verbal taunting. I hope you can forgive me.”

Derrick stood, “You were right though, it was a little exciting. Given other circumstances, I think I might enjoy a much more mild level of tickling.” He handed me his card and said, “Just in case you need to get hold of me for something.”

“I also happen to give the world’s best foot massages. And my services are free.”

“What about him?” Derrick asked, nodding toward Lance.

Kyle came back into the room, fully dressed and holding an envelope. “There’s only three cars outside, mine and two Subarus.” “The red one’s mine,” Derrick said.

“The other must be mine,” I said.

“Looks like we’re in some kind of industrial area. You guys going to be able to get outta here?”

“I’ll take care of him,” I said, pointing at the still unconscious Lance.

“Kyle, I’m sorry about all this,” I offered.

“I know. It wasn’t your fault and you were the one that got us free. I’d go to the cops if I could,” he said, shaking the envelope, “but I don’t blame you. But believe me, I hope to never let you near my bare feet again.” Kyle then walked out.

Derrick went in the other room to fetch his clothes. When he did, I cleaned up Lance quick. He returned fully dressed and with Lance’s clothes and envelope.

I released Lance, but then pulled the rope free of the table and used it to tie his wrists and ankles.

“What are you doing?” Derrick asked.

“This one is coming home with me. I’m not quite done with him yet. Can you help me get him to my car?”

We loaded Lance into the back seat of my car. I stretched his legs straight out between the front seats. Derrick and I shook hands. I gave him my card and be both drove away.

As I drove, I lightly caressed and scratched Lance’s soles. They really were very nice and so warm and soft. After only a couple minutes, his feet started to twitch when I stroked them. Lance was starting to come to.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lance said, trying to process the situation.

“Seems you can’t take the tickling as well as you thought,” I said. “You passed out.”

“Where are we going? Untie me.”

“Not so fast, Tickle Toes,” I said, running my index finger up and down Lance’s right sole. He started to giggle. “You were a very bad boy, making me tickle Kyle and Derrick first. Beside, we have some unfinished business. You got what you wanted, but I didn’t get what I wanted.”

I tickled Lance’s foot a bit harder and gave him a knowing look.

“I’m taking you back to my place where we can be more comfortable.”

“Stop now and let me out!” he yelled.

“I don’t think so,” I said, shaking the envelope. “Seems you’ve really stretched yourself thin financially. You owe a lot of money to some rather unsavory people. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to know that your business has gone bust.

“But I came into a great deal of money lately, Lance. Maybe I can help you out.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, suddenly interested. I continued diddling his warm soles lightly and he couldn’t disguise the fact that he was enjoying it.

“I’ve always wanted to have an actually tickle toy at my complete disposal. Someone like that’s not easy to come by, particularly someone with a spectacular body and super ticklish feet. You fit the bill quite nicely. The position pays well. You interested?”

“What would I have to do?”

“Nothing really, just laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh. I’ll put you through your paces. I have a little makeshift tickle dungeon at home. We could really explore that ticklish bod of yours.”

Lance was quiet for some time as we drove and I stroked his bare soles.

“You’re good at that,” he remarked.

“You have no idea. I don’t know how successful you’ve been in the past with ticklers, but I promise you that I will take you to your absolute limits and beyond. Anyway, you don’t have to answer right away. For the time being, those ropes and this envelope should at least ensure your cooperation for the weekend. You can decide on Monday whether you want to stay or not.”

As we neared my house, Lance said, “I wonder who it was that set that whole thing up.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but I hope they got a good show.” I smiled to myself, looking forward to going back and retrieving the disks from all the video camera’s I’d had running in the room. And I wondered when I got Lance down into my basement playroom, if he’d notice that my stocks table looked oddly similar to those he’d seen before.

It really didn’t matter, because once I got Lance strapped in, his bare soles and ticklish torso completely at my disposal, I’ll time him, “Lance, I want to play a game.”