(Published in Issue 1 of Tickle Master Magazine 1996)
As I approached my house I saw movement at an upstairs window. I ran up to my front door, gun in hand and let myself quietly in. I heard sounds just above. He was obviously looking through my gear. Inside my carrier bag was a new leather blindfold with straps that go under the chin and over the top of the head as well as round the back. Now’s the time to try it out, I thought.
I sprinted silently upstairs and as I reached the top I could see him kneeling down with his back to me going through my chest-of-drawers. I approached slowly and touched the back of his neck with the muzzle of my gun.
“Jesus!”, he cried as I made him stand up.
“Stay just where you are and do exactly as you’re told and you won’t get hurt.”
“Okay”, was all he said.
“Right. Close your eyes”, I commanded.
“Okay”, he said again. And with that I put the blindfold on him, securing the straps with a padlock.
“Take off your shoes, then put your arms over your head and hold your elbows.” As I instructed him he slipped off his size 11 trainers and stood placing his arms as I ordered.
I could now see him properly for the first time. He was over six feet tall and very muscular. Because it was so warm this time of year he was only wearing a vest and blue jeans. He had white socks on his feet.
“What are you going to do to me?”, he asked.
“Tickle you”, I replied.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I walked around him taking in every detail. Then, standing behind him I trailed my finger down his arms to his armpits. He gasped and quivered slightly.
“Stand still”, I ordered. My fingers carried their journey down his sides and around to his belly where I began to tickle him harder. He began to squirm and laugh. I pulled his vest back and slid my fingers underneath it, stroking and tickling, feeling the nerves of his belly twitch under my touch.
“Oh stop, please stop”, he cried, but I could tell by feeling the bulge in his jeans that he was enjoying every minute.
“Take your vest off”, I demanded. He did so, and instinctively returned his arms to their overhead position. I walked around to face him, observing for the first time his smooth, brown torso. I reached out began gently caressing and tickling his armpits. I could see him biting his lip, desperately trying not to laugh.
Then I took him by one arm and led him to the large double bed that was in the room. It had a strong, pine frame with ropes attached to the top and bottom ends of the bed. I sat him down on the bed, picked up his right leg and rested his foot on a foot stool. I began to stroke the top of his foot and ran my finger along the tips of his toes. Then I touched the sole of his foot and he instantly cried out and moved his leg away.
“Not my feel please!”, he begged. But that only encouraged me more. I put his foot back on the stool then sat astride his leg facing the top of his foot. I then began to tickle it properly and he went crazy throwing himself back on the bed screaming with laughter and desperately trying to move his foot away. I stopped the tickling and slowly began to peel off the sock and then the one from his left foot too. I stood back looking at his bare feet considering the possibilities. He just sat on the bed waiting.
I made him lie on his back on the bed then stretched his arms high above his head and tied his wrists firmly to the frame. This done, I grasped him by the ankles and pulled him down the bed so he was fully stretched out. I then straddled his body looking down at him, scarcely able to believe that my ultimate fantasy was coming true. I reached down and began to tightly stroke his torso very slowly. He groaned and smiled, obviously enjoying the sensations. I began moving my fingers faster and applying more pressure and very quickly he was laughing hysterically. I concentrated my actions first on his armpits then sliding down his ribs and over to his belly before moving back up again to his armpits. He was writhing and bucking wildly, kicking out with his legs. I stopped tickling and began to undo the buttons on his jeans I quickly pulled them and his shorts off, to reveal a massive erection. I tied his ankles to the bed, surprised that he didn’t make any effort to resist. I had him. Naked, helpless, and to do with as I wished. His tickling agony had only just begun.
I reached under the bed and retrieved two large seagull feathers and began trailing them over the tops of his toes. He tried to move his feet but they were securely tied. I then used the feathers, both ends, to tickle the soles of his bare feel. I kept up this action for ten minutes and he was lost in his own hysteria, laughing and screaming, begging for mercy. His fully erect cock was throbbing away and I felt certain that it was going to explode any second.
I put the feathers down and used my fingertips to tickle his feet. The skin on his soles felt soft and smooth as I slowly and gently explored every inch. As I ran my fingers up and down he was still giggling and protesting slightly, but he found these sensations much more bearable.
I began to stroke up his legs, touching the inside of his thighs and he immediately started struggling so I fingered in this area for a while, driving him crazy. I then moved up to the soft sensitive skin directly below his balls. He drew in quick breaths and shuddered at my touch. I got off the bed and fetched a vibrator from a drawer. I switched it on and moved it up and down the length of his cock while tickling under his balls with a feather. He moaned and groaned and tried to squirm away from this newest torture.
“Oh god..please stop. I can’t take any more of this.” I found that this action causes very strong sexual sensations, but not enough to produce orgasm. I grinned to myself.
“I have a proposition for you. You can either submit to 45 minutes more of this, or 45 minutes of foot tickling. If during that time you manage to take it like a man and not indicate in any way that you want me to stop, then you’ll earn a 15 minute rest period.”
“No, please, I can’t take any more of this”, he mumbled.
“It’s make-up-your-mind time.”
“Okay, my feet”, he shouted. “Tickle my feet!”
I was more than willing to oblige. I knelt on the floor at the end of the bed and continuously tickled his feet for 45 minutes using my fingers, feathers, brushes and other assorted devices. He laughed, screamed, writhed, and bucked wildly but never once did be cry out for me to stop.
As promised I gave him a rest and a drink. Even during this time he remained fully erect.
“You’re obviously enjoying yourself”, I said.
“So are you, I’ve no doubt”, he said grinning at me.
“Oh, being cheeky now, are we?”, I said running my fingers down his arms circling his armpits. He knew any minute now I was going in for the kill.
“You bastard!”, he said.
That did it. I immediately started tickling him everywhere: armpits, chest, sides, belly, legs, and feet. Not one inch of his exposed body was left untouched. I got all the usual responses and continued this for nearly half an hour. I then slowed to a gentle, teasing caress up and down his cock.
“Oh Jesus”, he breathed, trying to thrust his pelvis in an effort to make me jerk him faster. I got off the bed and got a vibrating, rubber cock-ring. I attached it to the head of his cock, switched it on ‘slow’ and stood back and watched. He was lying very still, soaking up the sensations that were rocketing within him. I picked up a feather and ran the tip up and down the shaft of his cock. I proceeded to tickle him below his balls and then moved down his thighs towards his feet. He was groaning a squirming around now.
“Make it go faster!”, he begged, but I wasn’t ready. I wanted to prolong this just a little longer. I pulled the feather between his toes and trailed the tip up and down his soles. He began giggling and I put the feather down, turned up the speed on the cock-ring and began to stroke his entire body with my fingers. With uncontrolled giggles and groans he threw his head back into the pillow and ejected huge amounts of cum. I thought he would never stop.
Once spent, I untied him and told him to get some sleep and to come downstairs when he was ready. About two hours later he walked into the living room.
“Hello, I’m Stuart”, he said.
I introduced myself and then put the kettle on. We chatted for a while and then he said, “Right, well I’d better be off.”
I showed him to the door. Just before he walked out he turned to me and said “Can I come back next week?”
“No problem”, I said.