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4

The Teaching Assistant

by Jesse Fox

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It was my junior year at Haven University.
I was 21 years old and just coming into my sexuality as well as my looks, boosting my confidence higher than ever before. As an English major I attended upper level classes that freshmen and sophomores didn’t and my first class of junior year was advanced writing. Now my writing skills were up to par but this class was supposed to be intensive and really enhance my ability. I went in the first day, sat down and waited for the professor to get there but who entered the room wasn’t my instructor. He was a young guy, maybe 24, with calm black hair and a creamy complexion. His sky blue button down dress shirt fit his tight upper body perfectly, only to be covered by the navy sports coat. I sank a bit in my chair from the lack of control I had over my body as he set up his stuff on the desk at the front. After quickly straightening myself up, I got out my notebook and waited for class to begin.

The actual professor stepped in a few minutes later and stood at the front. “Good morning everybody, I hope your first day isn’t too rough yet. I am Dr. Morrison and this is my teaching assistant Mr. Grant” the younger man gave a small wave to the class combined with a killer smile. “Today will be a short class. Your only assignment until next week is to write a 10 page paper on a topic of your choice. See you guys next Tuesday” Dr. Morrison announced before leaving with Mr. Grant in tow.

If you know any college students or ever were one you are aware of the phenomenon called procrastination. I found myself struggling terribly late Sunday night and I knew there was simply no way I was going to have that paper finished and perfected by Tuesday, I didn’t even have a topic. So Monday I figured I would just explain my situation and hope for an extension. Around 2 p.m. I made time to stop by my professor’s office and I even wore my most studious looking outfit. To my surprise Dr. Morrison wasn’t in, go figure, but next to his office was that of Mr. Grant. A delightful idea popped into my head that maybe the TA would be more understanding since he was closer to my age and would have some sympathy for my situation.

I knocked on the door but nobody answered. I noticed it was slightly ajar so I pushed it open further until I saw Mr. Grant at his desk. His feet were propped up on the wooden desk, his navy blue sheer socks facing me as I walked in. Headphones in his ears prevented him from hearing me knock but when he saw me a few seconds later he quickly removed his feet and took out the music. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even hear you. How can I help you?” he said in a nervous voice, showing his lack of experience. I swear I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight of the gorgeous man showing off his equally gorgeous feet in such a sexy manor. My eyes got a very good look at his feet through the socks; medium arches, nice plump toes, and beautifully smooth soles. I had to gather myself to even answer Mr. Grant. “Oh, uh. I’m here about the paper due tomorrow”, “What’s up?” “It’s just I’m having a hard time finding a topic to concentrate on and to collect my thoughts” “Would you like some help?” “Well, maybe on finding my topic but I could really use an extended due date” “I don’t know how Dr. Morrison would feel about that….uhh” “Please, Mr. Grant I’m desperate” “Call me Eli….but I can’t authorize an assignment change without Dr. Morrison’s approval, sorry” “Ok, thanks for hearing me out” I said before walking out of his office.

I couldn’t help but notice his almost panicked state and how uncomfortable he seemed to be with me there. I walked back down the hallway a bit and shifted my direction at one point. My next move could have gotten me in deep shit but I needed to take a risk on this one. I walked back quietly toward his office and his door was barely cracked. My feet stood only inches from the entrance as I heard low moaning from inside. My bold nature took over as I busted through the door and startled Eli, enough for him to drop his phone. The screen caught my eyes and I was shocked to realize I knew the girl on his phone. She was a student in my class; she was naked. “Mr. Grant??” I said with a skew eyebrow and curious look on my face. “What the hell are you doing?!” he spat. “I could ask you the same thing” “It isn’t what it looks like, I swear!” he said with large eyes full of fear. “Looks like Vanessa Hewitt.”  He paused with nerves as he felt paralysis from the intensity of the situation. I could tell he’d been enjoying himself before I interrupted him earlier and I seemed to have broken up round two.

“You want to keep this quiet?” “Of course” he responded, not yet looking up from his lap. “Guess, I’ll be getting that extension” “……Fine” “But that’s not all” “I’m not doing anything else you little shit” “Calm down Mr. Grant, it’s not a big deal. Just come to my dorm room tonight around 8 p.m. It’s 305 in Gregory Hall” “What’s going to happen?” “You’ll just have to wait and see” I said before walking back out of the office. I heard his door slam in frustration as I rounded the corner of the hallway and I couldn’t help but crack a grin.

Like clockwork I heard a knock at my door at 8 that night. Thankfully I had a single room, meaning no roommate so I wouldn’t have to worry about anybody else. I was wearing jeans, a red flannel shirt and black socks when I answered the door. Eli Grant stood in front of me with an obvious attitude that only added to his appeal and my desire to tickle him crazy. “Come in” I said with a sly grin as he followed my invitation and waited for further instruction. “So what do you want? Me to do your homework or write some paper for you?” he said oh so ignorant to my plans for the evening. “Not quite” I answered. He had changed since earlier, now wearing a light pink dress shirt and grey slacks complete with black shoes. “Sit on the bed” “What?” “You heard me, just relax and sit down” Reluctantly, he obeyed and sat down at the edge of my mattress. “Now what?” he asked, his nerves getting the best of him.

I should explain that I was larger than Mr. Grant and easily had 50 lbs. on him so I figured I could overpower him. This came into play when I grabbed the set of padded cuffs from my dresser and pounced on the smarty pants. He fought me heavily for nearly 3 minutes before I got both of his wrists cuffed to the headboard. “What the fuck?!?!” he exclaimed as he tugged at the restraints for all he was worth. “This is part of the plan Eli” With that I grabbed two other pairs of padded cuffs and after wrestling with his legs I finally got them attached to the base board. He was now positioned like an upside down Y in his dress attire. Not wanting to attract extra attention to my room, I grabbed the ball gag I’d purchased for special occasions and loaded it across Mr. Grant’s protesting mouth.

“Now where to start?” I asked aloud as I crawled onto my bed and straddled his tight torso. His body was already bucking and squirming to defeat my restraints and escape the unknown coming events. I began by slowly easing my hands along his upper body until I reached the collar of his nice shirt and un buttoned it until I was able to open it to his wife beater. I moved slowly to amplify his apprehension and his fear of the unknown as I touched his body. “Tell me something Eli, are you ticklish at all?” The words hit him like a shock to the system as his eyes grew wide and his energetic attempts to break free increased tenfold. This intense reaction answered my question.

I used the tips of my fingers to trace up the sides of his tank top, causing him to twitch. When I ran over his ribs he would giggle a bit and pull at his cuffs harder, little did he know he was only helping me. I would tease him by skimming my fingers lightly along his entire upper body with no sense of a target and then dig into his ribs unannounced, forcing guffaws from behind the gag for the duration of my seemingly random attacks. The black puffs of hair looked particularly hot in the depths of his toned armpits, asking to be shown some attention. After treating him to several spontaneous rib tickles I repeated the same motion where I grazed up his sides but this time I dove into his underarms furiously, making Mr. Grant’s face to scrunch in agony and his body buck like a rabid animal. My dancing fingers lit up his hollows very efficiently as I made sure to focus on the meat of them as well as twirl his pit hair a bit to mess with him.

Once I found his pits and ribs to be hot spots I untucked his tank top and situated it behind his head. This unveiled an adorable bellybutton that caught my attention right off the bat. “Is your innie sensitive Mr. Grant” I taunted before placing a solitary finger in the navel and swirling it around. This swift motion got him gigging behind the gag like before and his eyes shut with a mixture of genuine reaction and embarrassment. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret” I teased once more, giving him a toothy grin. His abs were a work of perfection and felt even better than they looked. I realized this when I laid my hands on them and let my fingers divulge into the clearly visible muscles. He bucked in front of me as I sat between his legs and his head shook around in response to the undeniable sensations that demanded his full attention.

I leaned forward and gave him a feeling I’m sure he’d never experienced before. I used my vivacious tongue to flick around in the belly button at a fast pace. I could hear his laughter getting higher despite having a gag in as the fresh stimulation made him feel just as confused as he was defenseless. I figured I would just work my way down his desirable body, moving on to his thighs next. This required me to undo his pants and pull them to his knees. Their removal sparked a new fear of sexual encounter that really got him freaking out. “Calm down man, I’m not gonna mess with your package” I assured him, his body relaxing a bit in relief. “But I am gonna do this” I announced before gripping his upper thighs and squeezing them with my large hands. This sent him reeling as I executed the father/son-like move perfectly. His muscles contracted under my grasp and I delivered the tickle massage even harder, making his eyes bulge a bit from the intense feeling.

I kneaded my fingers into the meat of his upper legs with a great amount of pressure and rolled my knuckles around the tender flesh as well. This technique upped his reaction even more, throwing his now slightly sweaty head back into the mattress. I found this area to be particularly fun to tickle because of his heightened response to the fierce tickle attacks. My strong hands prodded into the deep thighs for about 10 minutes before moving on. I maneuvered down alongside his leg and moved his pants back up around this crotch so I could explore the rest of my captive’s body. One place people are always surprised to find out they’re ticklish is the underside of their knees and Eli was no exception. I had snatched a toothbrush after moving his pants and I used it to scrub lightly under his knees. The delicate but effective tickling got him writhing and he almost squeaked between laughs. “What tender knees you have Mr. Grant” I added, receiving a glare of hatred from the top of my bed.

My brush handled the under skin of one leg while my fingers scraped the other. I loved having both legs in dispose because he couldn’t concentrate on getting one away from me because the other would just feel the wrath instead. I even tried squeezing his calves which also forced great amounts of hearty laughter from the gagged TA. I would grab both of them and alternate between legs which seemed to drive him nuts as he arched his back. As I got closer to my favorite part of any tickle victim I realized I’d seen Eli before our first class. I was in the gym at school about a week earlier and I saw a very handsome guy with a well-defined body working out. I remember thinking how attractive he was and how I would kill to get my hands on him. I watched him do squat after squat, pull up after pull up, and sit up after sit up. The amount of focus I put on his routine threw my own off track that day. Little did I know then what would be coming to my way.

I chose to sit between his ankles while I removed his foot wear. His shiny black shoes slipped right off and the scent of leather and mild perspiration hit my nose. As his toes wiggled in the fresh air I relished in the luscious smell. He must’ve really liked sheer socks because a pair of black ones gripped his feet as I admired their immaculate shape. My fingers eased toward the pair of feet and I heard a muffled “no” from the top of the bed. I know he was gagged but I clearly heard him say no to me touching his feet. “I know a lot of guys are weird about their feet; being touched, tickled, or even having them looked at. Good thing you don’t have a choice” I explained in an evil way. I also remember a muffled “fuck you” before the laughter ensued once again from Mr. Grant. I used both hands to tickle the bound feet, both sets of fingers wiggling and scratching through the thin socks like a machine. They felt so velvety to me, only enhancing the experience.

I would rake up and down the length of his soles over and over, starting from the balls to the heels. This method proved to be highly effective in tickling Eli as his now very sweaty and mostly naked body bucked around on the mattress. His feet would wrinkle under my fingers during the tickling and I noticed this was a way he’d learned to lessen the sensations. “Not today pretty boy” I said, looking back up at him before grabbing a foot and just going to town on it with my nails. I took a pair of scissors from my desk and cut a hole in the toe of the sock I was focusing on. I proceeded to rip it until I had a mostly bare foot and it was supremely lickable. I used the toothbrush from earlier to run between his wiggling toes and I thought my neighbors would be reporting a noise complaint for sure. His reactions peaked when I ran the tiny bristled brush along the base of his toes in a horizontal direction rapidly. He bucked like a wild horse and his gag didn’t serve as a good barrier for the immense laughter Mr. Grant produced. I was actually pretty surprised at how ticklish he was but I guess him passing out around 9:30 was a testament to that.

With the teaching assistant out cold I took that opportunity to give into my temptations; un-cuffing his feet and putting a bare sole in my face. I lathered the pink flesh with my eager tongue and sucked each of his delicious toes like dessert. The layer of salty sweat added to the moment and I allowed my vivacious appendage to slither around and between every perfect digit on his beautiful foot. It gave me such satisfaction to have my way with this amazing guy and to know I’d be seeing him for the rest of the semester only made things more interesting.

I stole the remaining sock from his other foot and untied Eli from my bed. I put his shirt and pants back on along with his shoes and even fixed his hair. Luckily for me his car was right down stairs and I managed to avoid everyone on my hall that night believe it or not. He woke up the next morning around 7 a.m. after the alarm I’d set on his phone went off. “What the hell happened?” he asked himself before the memories from last night flooded his genius head. When he started his car to head home for a quick shower he saw a picture on his visor mirror. It was a photo of him tied to my bed with his pants around his knees, his shirt off, and only in his boxers. The back read; there are more where this came from. “Little shit!!” he shouted in his car after hitting his steering wheel with frustration.

The next day we had class and when I sat down the professor came over to my desk. “Mr. Grant explained to me that you were working with him on developing your paper and you needed some extra time. How’s next week sound as a due date?” “That’d be great, thanks professor” I replied in my most appreciative tone. A few seconds later Mr. Grant walked in with a frazzled look on his handsome face. His blue eyes locked with my brown ones right before class began and if looks could kill I would be dead.
I just shot him a wink and that seemed to deliver the message that not only did I have potential blackmail but I knew how to completely wreck him; I was in control.