By Brian
It was homecoming week at the University, and the fraternity boys were up to their usual pranks, things like toilet papering selected targets, wild drinking binges followed by panty raids, and other good clean fun. Traditions were traditions, after all, and one of these traditions was for the fraternities to steal each other mascots and desecrate them in some fashion, such as painting them different colors, placing the logo of an opposition fraternity, etc. Such had been the case with the Alpha Gamma Sigma house, having their prized moosehead, which sported a baseball cap with the Universitys name, and the Greek letters that spelled out their organization. They were worried sick about what humiliations the poor thing was suffering, as if it were a real human being. Usually the fraternity which was responsible for this type of prank against Alpha was Delta Chi Rho, and it wasnt as if the boys at Alpha hadnt done their share of thievery of the Deltas mascot during homecoming down through the years. Still, there was a certain air of youthful seriousness to all of this, and Alpha wanted back what was theirs, and were to do their best to achieve their goal.
Now, at close to midnight in the evening of the second night of the heist, most of the members were gathered in the living room of their house, because of a meeting that had been called by the house leadership. It was dark, and the only light was the fireplace and a few candles, and most of the guys were half-dressed from having being roused from their sleep. There was something secret afoot, and nobody wanted the outside world to know what was transpiring inside their inner sanctum. Two of the Alpha brothers, John and Paul, had captured a member of the Delta house, a guy named Sam. It seems that they had been out for a late night jog, with nobody in sight, when another figure appeared from the opposite direction. They thought they recognized him as a member of the Delta house, and all of a sudden John had a plan. They hid in the bushes, hoping they werent seen, and when the guy passed by, they jumped him. Now, John and Paul were football players, and pretty good at that, and the guy they had was not as big as the 64″ linebackers. He was more like 6, and on the slim side, more like a swimmer. John and Paul had no problem restraining their prey, and to keep him from being heard, they used a bandanna as a gag. They easily carried him the short distance back to the house to present their plan to the other members. Thats where things stood, the captive sitting on a chair in the middle of the living room, with his hands tied behind the chair, and everyone looking at him, still gagged, and mumbling through the gag something unintelligible.
By the candlelight they could see that the guy was someone named Sam, and he was indeed a member of the Delta house. The few guys who knew him thought him as a decent guy, usually not loud or obnoxious, and a few had noticed because he was really quite attractive, with that dark hair and dark blue eyes, but that was something that wasnt spoken of out loud. He was on the thin side, and not much of a jock. He was easy for our two football players to take down. Paul was explaining that maybe they could make Sam tell them where the moosehead had gone, and specifically who was responsible for it. Everyone thought that maybe Sam was scared enough that they didnt have to do anything to him, so they removed his gag, and asked him.
Sam went nuts, and started screaming that Delta didnt take the mascot, and they had better let him go, or there would trouble because Alpha was guilty of kidnapping. He was gagged right back up. John and Paul whispered something to each other, and John suggested that they could make Sam talk, if they would just let them take him up to their room. They wouldnt hurt him, but they knew a way to make him talk. This talk made Sam extremely nervous, and he was trying desperately to free himself. It was decided that the two could take Sam away, and everyone went back to bed, while John and Paul carried the struggling Sam up to their room.
Sam had just been out for a late night walk on this warm, fall evening, and so he was just wearing a tank top, jeans, and his well worn tennis shoes. He couldnt fight the two strong young men who were carrying him, so he quit trying, and they made it up stairs, and put him on one of their beds in their shared room. They went to work, and stretched Sams arms up to tie them securely to the head of the bed, and tying his feet together at the ankles, they secured them to the foot of the bed. John looked at Paul, and then lifted Sams shirt up so it went over his head and exposed his chest and nipples. John removed the gag from Sam, and he immediately asked them what they were going to do to him.
“Nothing,” said John, “as long as you tell us what Alpha did with our mascot.”
“I told you, I dont know anything,” pleaded Sam. “We didnt steal it. Please let me go, and I wont say anything to anybody.”
“But, we believe that your guys stole it, and we believe that you know where it is.”
With that, John stroked Sam lightly across his left side. Same jumped, and let out a short gasp. Paul, on the right side, did the same thing. Sam started, and gasped again, this time with a short giggle. Then, together, the two big guys started stroking up and down Sams exposed sides, from the waist to the armpits, and back again, over and over again. Sam tried to control himself, but within seconds of the stroking, he was laughing uncontrollably, going alternately rigid and relaxed, the whole time laughing so hard he couldnt even talk if he wanted to. What seemed like hours to Sam was only a few minutes, and John and Paul stopped. Again Sam was asked where the mascot was, and again he said he didnt know. So, a few more minutes of side stroking, and then the two assaulted Sams armpits in earnest, and they were sensitive. With two pair of hands in each armpit, Sam was convulsive with laughter. He tried to lower his arms to cut off this sensitive area, but he was held tight, and the more he struggled, the more intense became the torture. Ten minutes he endured this, beginning to sweat, and at times not being able to emit any sounds he was so hysterical, only to return to sustained giggling. He felt as if the nerves along his sides and armpits were exploding.
“I think we need to intensify this,” said John.
“What if hes telling the truth?”
“What if he can take it, and hes willing to tough it out, because he thinks were going to get bored and just let him go.” John was having so much fun, that it really didnt matter if Sam talked. He hoped that he didnt and he could justify doing this pretty little guy like this for hours.
“Well, I guess youre right. We havent really started, yet,” said Paul.
Sam hear all of this, and after a couple of minutes he recovered enough to realize that he might be here for awhile, having to suffer this excruciating torture. He really knew where they could find the mascot, but he couldnt spill the beans on his own fraternity brothers. There is a code of loyalty, and being tickled into talking wasnt something he wanted to tell his brothers about. He had been able to keep this part of him hidden, because he knew if someone could get him down and tickle him, they could get anything they wanted out of him. As he was thinking what to do, whether to talk and end this, or whether to see if he could take what they had, he felt an overwhelming desire to throw his head back and laugh like an idiot. It took him a few minutes, but he realized that John and Paul had moved to his tits, and were gently swirling their fingers around his nipples, which were rigid and loving the attention, and this was causing him to laugh like hed never laughed before. The fingers swirled around, and across his sensitive tits, and he just kept laughing, harder and harder, louder and louder, until he thought he would pass out from the wild sensations. It stopped after a few minutes, and the question was asked one more time, and one more time he lied and said he didnt know anything about the damned moosehead. Then, he was giggling like a little boy at the top of his lungs, as his tormentors continued the titwork, licking their fingers every now and then to lighten the friction. Sam was having trouble breathing, he laughed so hard, and his body was starting to get a little sore from going rigid against the ropes. It stopped.
“Where is our mascot?” asked John. Sam noticed that he was at the foot of the bed. “You cant take any more of this. You might as well tell us, and well let you go.”
“I dont know. Really, I dont know, so if you just let me go, I wont say anything.” Sam was begging now, he could hear it in his own voice. But, he couldnt let his Delta brothers down. Loyalty was all-important, and while he didnt feel his life was in danger, he didnt know how much more of this relentless tickling he could handle.
“I wonder if his feet are ticklish,” said Paul. “Maybe if we take off his shoes and socks, and tickled his bare feet, hed tell us the real truth.” And, with that, the two jocks proceeded to bare their captors soles. Sam was struggling even at the suggestion that someone would tickle his feet. As usual, when boys wrestle around, sometimes theres one who likes to tickle, and so Sam had found out that his feet were quite ticklish. The ropes held him tight, and his shoes and socks disappeared from his feet.
“Very nice feet,” said Paul. “Soft and sensitive, this should be fun.” He knew by the way Sam was struggling, and now trying to cur his toes away from what was to come that this was going to be fun. He was right.
They started slowly, stroking the length of those helpless soles, and swirling around the toes, only to return to the heel. John and Paul had adept fingers, and Sam was hysterical, and straining against the ropes, causing them to dig in to his flesh. His toes were flailing, helplessly, as the fingers stroked his feet, now going over the tips of his toes, and down the top, which was also quite ticklish. Sam was giggling without break, beginning to sweat, and certainly had no chance to tell anyone anything, let alone the location of the mascot. He was laughing uncontrollably, so hard that his voice was growing hoarse. He thought nothing could be worse, until he felt strong hands grab his toes, of both feet, and stretch them back. He couldnt fight, and all of a sudden he felt something brushing against the undersides of his toes, which caused him to laugh as if he were in a different dimension. Each of the torturers had a soft brush, like a paint brush, and were working Sams sensitive toes, and they were spreading his toes, and working that brush between them, and swirling it about. Sam tried to clench with his toes, but he didnt have the strength, and besides, as he flexed his toe muscles to grab the brushes, they were simply pulled out, causing him to accelerate his peels of laughter. They tortured his toes without stop, for about fifteen minutes, using their brushes with great skill. Sam had reached the point where he couldnt fight them any more, as he lay there, helpless, just laughing without stopping, sweating profusely. Then, it stopped. It had taken about an hour, but Sam knew he would talk.
After he told John and Paul where the mascot had been ditched, which was in some old abandoned building somewhere in town, the two left him, tied in the bed. Sam didnt even have the strength to cry out for someone to untie him. He just passed out. It only seemed like an instant, but after he had been asleep for about two hours, he was awakened by John and Paul as they were untying him. He was sore, but strangely elated by it all, as well.
“You can get dressed and go, now. We recovered the mascot, and its a good thing nothing happened to it. Your guys just hid it,” said John.
Sam didnt say anything. He got dressed, and walked out the front door, noticing that the moosehead had been restored to its rightful place of honor. Back at his house, because it was now around 3:30 am, no one was awake, and so he just went to bed. At around ten the next morning, he was roused by his roommate, and told there was a house meeting. Sam and his roommate went downstairs together. Everyone was in the main room, and they were quite upset. Seems that Alpha had gotten their mascot back, and it was done with the help of one of their members. They were sure they knew who did it, and that person had to be punished. The house president, Jim, who had been doing all of the talking, was now looking right at Sam.
“Seems it was you Sam,” said Jim. “And,” he said, as he held up a paintbrush, “its a good thing youre already barefoot.”
Before Sam could do anything, he felt strong hands on his shoulder, and heard the front door lock.