By Keith Steeclif
I knocked on the RA’s door. He was a hot jock named Brett who played on both the wrestling and baseball teams. He answered the door wearing a tank top, shorts and white anklet socks.
“Come on in and have a seat,” he said with a smile. As an RA he got a single room suite. We went from the suite room to the bedroom and I sat on the edge of his bed and he sat in the desk chair.
“What’s up, Brett?” I asked, knowing I was there for a reason.
“It about your roommate, Lance.”
Lance was on the gymnastic team; great looks and fantastic body.
“What about him?”
“Well, it might be nothing, but he’s made a complaint. He says you tickle him a lot.”
“Tickling, are you kidding?”
“I have to take every complaint seriously. He says you’re tickling his feet a lot. Do you think this is true?”
“Well, of course I tickle his feet in the morning to wake him up. Lance sleeps like a rock and if it wasn’t for me, he’d miss all his morning classes. And yeah, I admit I’ll tickle him other times too, but I don’t think its excessive or anything. He’s just so darn ticklish. Its too much fun. And I’m a really good tickler too. You want to see?”
Before Brett could respond, I dived to the floor and grabbed his ankles. Peeling his anklet socks off easily, I started scrubbing his bare soles with my fingernails. Brett burst out laughing.
“Hey, haa haa haa! What are you doing? Hee hee hee! Stop that!”
“Oh look, another super ticklish jock,” I said. “You guys parading around in your hot bodies, just begging to get tickled. You got ticklish feetsies, Brett?”
“Stop! Please! Stop it! HEE HEE HEE! HAA HAA HAA!”
There was a jump rope on the floor and I managed to pull Brett to the floor and hogtie him while still tickling his feet. Then I tickled his feet real good, making him hysterical with laughter.
“If you think you’re going to stop me from tickling Lance, or anyone else for that matter, you’ve got another thing coming, tickle boy. And for even wasting my time calling me down here, I’m going to show you what a true foot tickling is like.”
I tickled Brett’s soles vigorous and he roared with laughter. His feet were as ticklish as Lance’s. I went after his ribs and armpits too and this guy was hyper-ticklish all over. He was howling with laughter and begging me to stop.
I gave Brett the tickling of his life, only stopping when I thought he was near complete exhaustion. As he panting and gulped air, I asked, “Now, you don’t think that’s excessive, do you?” Brett was too breathless to reply.
I waited for Brett to recover and then I started slowly diddling on his bare soles. Brett started to squirm and giggle.
“Now,” I said, “what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Nothing,” Brett said, “everything is cool.”
“Even with Lance? I thought he said I was tickling him too much.” I ran my fingers along the base of Brett’s wiggling toes.
“Ha ha! I’ll talk to him, I swear. Clear everything up.”
“Oh, but Lance was a bad boy tattling on me, and he needs to be punished. And you’re going to help me.”
I picked up his phone and laid on the floor beside him. “I’m going to call our room and you are going to ask Lance to come down and see you. And you better make it sound legit, because whether I tickle Lance for the rest of the night or you makes no difference to me. You got that?”
“Yes, anything you say.”
“Good. Then when Lance comes down and knocks on the door, you’re going to yell to him to come in. I’ll take care of him then. I know just how to get that guy under my control. And this other jump rope will help too. Then, we’ll take it from there.”
I dial our number and put the phone up to Brett’s ear. He did a good job of sounding casual as he asked Lance to come down to see him. I stood behind the door. Lance knocked and Brett yelled, “Come in.”
Lance opened the suite door and when he didn’t see Brett, entered the room and headed toward the bedroom.
Lance was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and white anklet socks. I came up behind him and managed to shoot my hands up underneath his shirt and find his bare ribs. Surprised, Lance burst out laughing and tried to wrest himself free. Although Lance was a competitive gymnast packed with muscles, I was taller and slightly stronger and it didn’t take long for the tickling to have an impact. I brought Lance to the ground in a giggling heap.
Grabbing Lance’s arms, I managed to get them up over his head and sit on them. I then pulled up his shirt and started tickling his washboard abs, defined rib cage, and deep, hairless armpits. Lance’s entire body was one big ticklish nerve and he was screaming with laughter. I tickled and tickled until he was exhausted. Meanwhile Brett, still hogtied, could do nothing but watch from his room.
Once Lance was completed spent, I picked him up and dragged him to the bed, dropping him face down. I quickly tied his wrists to the top portion of the bed frame. Then I took a couple neck ties I’d taken from Brett’s closet and tied Lanced ankles to the bottom of the bed frame.
Lance was still panting when I sat on the floor between him and Brett.
“Lance,” I said, “you’ve been a very naughty boy. Brett here didn’t understand all the fun we’ve been having so I had to give him a demonstration.” I tickled Brett’s raised soles slightly, making him squirm and laugh. “Poor Brett’s as ticklish as you.”
“You can’t do this,” Lance said, “Two of us know about you now. We’ll get you kicked off campus.”
“Who says either one of you will get a chance to tell anyone. You ever hear the expression tickled to death? Well, maybe I’ll just conduct a little experiment and see if such a thing is true. After all, I am here to learn, aren’t I?”
“Please,” Brett said, “we won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just let us go.”
“Yeah, I was just kidding,” Lance said, “you can tickle me if you want, just not so much, okay?”
“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me how much I can tickle you? How about Brett, you didn’t say he couldn’t tickle you.”
I knelt up and positioned myself behind Brett so his legs and the tops of his feet were against my torso. Then I started tickling his soles hard. Brett was hysterical with laughter.
“Bet you prefer seeing someone else get tickled, don’t you Lance?” I asked, “Better Brett than you, right?”
Lance didn’t respond. I tickled Brett until he was sufficiently weakened, and then I untied him. Picking him up, I laid him face down on top of Lance and then I tied his ankles next to Lance’s.
“Now, Brett, this is real simple. I’m going to tickle Lance’s feet. When I do, I want you to tickle his armpits too. If you don’t, or if you aren’t doing a good job of tickling him, I’m going to tickle your feet too.”
I sat on the floor at the end of the bed facing the four bare soles. I started tickling Lance’s feet. As Lance burst out laughing, Brett didn’t tickle him, so I started tickling his bare soles too.
“Tickle Lance’s pits,” I ordered.
Laughing, Brett propped himself up on his elbows on either side of Lance and he reached up and under and started tickling Lance’s armpits. I’d tied Lance’s arms so that his armpits were completely vulnerable. His laughter kicked up to a fevered pitch.
Every day for the past semester, I’d been tickling Lance on a daily basis, usually several times a day. It was true that I tickled his feet every morning to wake him up for class. That’s how the whole thing started. The night before his first test, Lance begged me to do whatever it took to get him up the next morning. I took that as an opportunity and I pulled back the covers while he was sleeping and I tickled his feet until he started to wake up. That’s when I discovered how ticklish he was. When he asked for more time to sleep, I grabbed his ankles and gave him a good tickling until he was wide awake.
He actually thanked me later for getting him up, even if it was by tickling, and soon I was tickling him awake every morning. And then it escalated from there.
Now, I was giving Lance the tickling to end all ticklings. I knew all the most sensitive spots on his bare feet and I was exploiting them to their greatest potential. Meanwhile, Brett was working over his armpits real good. Whenever he slacked off, I’d give his bare soles a once over and he’d pick up his tickling anew.
Lance must have endured forty minutes of this until I decided he’d been punished enough. I stopped tickling his feet and gave Brett permission to stop tickling as well. Brett laid on Lance’s back and the two men panted.
“Now, Lance, I think you’ve learned your lesson. You’re not going to complain about me tickling you again, are you?.”
“No. No way.”
“And I can tickle you whenever and however I want?”
“Yes, whatever you want, I swear.”
“And Brett,” I said, starting to stroke his soles lightly and making him squirm and giggle. “I trust this little incident will stay between us.”
“Yes, I swear.”
“After all, I’m sure all your wrestler friends would love to know just how ticklish you really are. I’ve heard about how you guys abuse each other in the locker room.”
“Please, don’t tell anyone how ticklish I am and I promise I won’t tell.”
“Good,” I said, giving both men’s feet a little final tickle and then a quick lick across each sole. I then untied the men.
I helped Brett get off Lance and had to move him over to the chair to sit.
Lance jumped right out of the bed with a big grin on his face.
“How was that?” I asked.
“Awesome, thanks so much. That was the best yet.”
Lance looked at Brett, “Sorry to get you pulled into this, Dude, but I really wanted a good tickle punishment scene. And he really wanted to tickle you. So it really worked out for everyone, don’t you think?”
“You mean you planned this?” Brett said to Lance.
“Well, he planned it, but I asked for it. I love getting tickled, Dude. It’s my thing. The two of us met online and decided to come to the same school and be roommates. He’s been tickling the crap out of me all semester, but I just wanted something a little different, new, and exciting.”
“Remember,” I said, “when the weather gets nicer we’re going to the beach and I get to bury you in the sand.”
“Absolutely. You should come too, Brett. He could bury both of us and tickle our bare feet all day. It’ll be a blast.”
“You’re both crazy,” Brett said.
“Maybe,” Lance said, “but don’t forget your promise. You better keep this to yourself or we tell the whole wrestling team about Tickle Boy Brett.”
“And besides,” I added, “once you’ve had a chance to think about what just happened, you might find it wasn’t so bad after all. If you ever want a good tickling again, or just the most awesome foot massage of your life, give me a call. I’d love a chance to get my hands on your feet again.”
Lance and I left the RA’s room laughing. We didn’t see him for a few days. Then one night I had Lance rolled up in a comforter on his stomach on the floor and was going to town on his upturned soles with a nice stiff feather when there was a knock on the door.
It was Brett. I invited him in and offered him a feather to help me tickle Lance’s feet. He declined, but he sat on the couch and didn’t say anything. So I went back to tickling Lance’s feet with the feather and let him watch.
After a couple minutes, Brett asked Lance, “Does that feather really tickle your feet?”
“Like crazy, and I love it. You should try it.”
I held up the feather for Brett. “I could show you, if you like. I don’t have to tie you up or anything. And I promise to stop if you just say the word.”
“Well, maybe just a little,” Brett said slipping off his right sneaker. He wasn’t wearing socks.
I took his right ankle in the crux of my arm and, with my back to him, started drawing the feather up and down his bare sole. After first Brett’s foot just twitched and his toes wiggled. Then I heard a giggle and a laugh, and then his foot started wiggling like mad and he started to laugh in earnest.
After a couple minutes, Brett was laughing hard and he said, “Okay, stop!”
“Sure,” I replied, “Just say the word.”
“What’s the word?” he asked between bouts of laughter.
“Well, you should have asked me that before we started,” I said.
Brett never did find out the word, but it turned out he didn’t need it. Because in the long run, neither he nor Lance could ever get enough tickling. And that suited me just fine.