Two Weeks Prior
by QuantumLuv

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Every sexual desire in James' life sat there before him.

His devilish little fetishes were going to be satisfied in ways that he never thought possible, and the orgasms that he was going to experience were going to be infinite in number. Heaven was staring at him, and heaven could fit in the palm of his hand.

You see, James was staring at the WaveClick. It was a small microchip that was being developed by TR-Corp, and advance electronics firm with several military contracts. How did James get to be so lucky as to be standing here at the TR-Corp offices? Simple: he was an intern. James was in the middle of pursuing his Computer Science degree at the local community college, and figured that an internship would be just the thing to put him over the top when evaluation time came. He had been interning (unpaid, natch) at TR-Corp for over a year now, and -- aside from being a mere coffee & donut gopher for some of the scientists -- had actually endeared himself to several of the senior members of the TR-Corp development team. When he began exhibiting knowledge of electronics well beyond that of the usual collegiate individual, one TR-Corp staffer forced James to sign a Confidentiality waiver before showing him some of the "Top Secret" things that TR-Corp was working on. WaveClick was one of those things, and it was genius.

Essentially, WaveClick was a small microchip that -- when placed at the base of the skull -- would modify the brainwaves of an enemy. Literally modify their brainwaves. The chip would come pre-programmed, so that when they were attached to base of an enemy soldiers skull, said soldier could possibly become an instant pacifist, or become suicidal, or homicidal against his own people, or get turned on by near-death experiences, or whatever the chip programmer wanted. By altering brainwaves -- and not direct thoughts -- one could change someone else's “attitude”, but not their every movement a la movie hypnotism. WaveClick was essentially a personality modifier, and James, quite frankly, loved the idea of it.

Scientists had already shown him how it works and how it could be programmed, taking time out of the day to show James the complex neural networks that were involved in making a device like that even remotely possible. James ate up every word, line of code, and demonstration that was every conveyed to him about WaveClick, and he was at a point where he could very well program a WaveClick for himself ...

... and now, one was left on a desk. Accidentally. Well, of course it was accidentally -- each WaveClick prototype was worth about $2 million at this point, and they were always locked up in a super high-security area. Yet here James was -- cleaning up after hours at TR-Corp (he was granted a small security clearance to do such a thing), and a scientist had misplaced a $2M WaveClick. James looked around the tidy, too-white walls. No one. It was 9PM, and there was no one around. Having already dusted the security room several times over, James already knew where the cameras were pointing on every floor, and how to sneak his way out of the building undetected ... and then preceded to do so. As far as James was concerned, a scientist was going to lose his job for negligence, the military contractors were going to go apeshit over a lost prototype, the building would go under lockdown, and the community college would soon let him know that his internship would be "indefinitely suspended" until this security issue was resolved. It was almost as if fate had decided to walk right up to the brash young James and simply give him the power of God.

So, late at night, in his one-bedroom apartment, James thought about what the hell to do with a WaveClick now that he had one. Make his teacher give him a good grade? Too easy (and silly, especially for something worth $2M!). Make the president legalize weed? As if he could even get that close! Then, it struck him ...

... although James had somewhat of a dominant personality in life, he was somewhat submissive sexually. He didn't like the idea of being dominated as much as he did being used -- and this had lead to him fetishizing some ... well, some not very common things. Ultimately, when it came to be dominated, he liked the idea of being dominated by a guy more than a girl, and, most interestingly of all, he kind of liked being humiliated by a guy. This (to make a long story short) lead to James having a bit of a foot fetish. He liked the idea of literally (and figuratively) being under a guy, being told to lick a guy's bare sole. To suck the spaces between a guy's toes. To, in essence, being a foot-bitch. Yet that alone wasn't enough for James. He also liked being tickled as well - and though there were more than enough sites to rile up his tickle fantasies, James still hadn't fully explored this particular obsession. He had known -- just from the videos he had pursued, that he liked a strong, muscled guy being tied up and literally broken down with the very concept of tickling. Of having wiggling fingers in one's armpits being the ultimate downfall of the indefatigable male ego. A guy getting turned on and jacked off by the mere act of tickling ... it was ... pretty hot. James, more than anything, would like that done to him.

Yet James' fantasies didn't stop there. There were several guys in his class that he frequently thought about torturing himself. The most frequent one was a friend (well, somewhat of an ex-friend) named Ash. Ash wound up screwing James over on a money deal not too long ago, and it somewhat cooled the best-buddy bond they had shared through the first year and a half of community college. Ash had a bit of a beard, a bit of a Scottish heritage (hence the weekly drink-a-thons), and a perchance for blue jeans and a worn Yankees cap he has. He was blond, a bit hairy, and was the single most frequent jackoff fantasy that James had. The most recent fantasy that teased and delighted James was the idea of Ash being in blue jeans but barefoot and bare-chested, a blindfold placed securely over his eyes, and having that young boy's body being tied up in a reverse-Y pattern: his legs spread far apart and his wrists bound tightly together, but those arms being stretched out over his head to the max. With Ash still trying to keep both feet planted, he'd be in a state of perpetual tension, to which James would sneak up behind his bare-chested, confused, and frightened friend, and those fingernails of him would start lightly teasing that armpit hair ... and, well, the rest just got James too hard to even think about.

Oh sure, James would give up just about anything to tickle Ash or -- conversely -- be dominated by him, but there were others in his class he wanted to do the same to. There was the muscular Jason, the nebbish country-bumpkin Lee, the burlier Gene -- really, just the idea of being dominated by close friends of his was enough for James to explode on the inside. Yet it was Ash who had hurt him the most ... and it was Ash who would therefore have to pay.

Using a makeshift program that James had been working on for months, James began programming the WaveClick specifically for Ash. He was going to give Ash a few fun personality traits. First off would be a male foot fetish -- just like James' own. Ash gave it a two-week delay: it'd start simple enough, but by the end, the “only” way that Ash would be able to ejaculate would be if the soles of his feet were licked ... by a guy. Secondly, James was going to give Ash a bit more of a dominant personality ... and to wrap it all off, he'd give Ash a male tickle fetish with a repeater loop: for every time he tickled a guy, his obsession with the tickling would grow more. James didn't even set a limit to it: he just wanted to see how far Ash's fetish would go. Heh, this was going to be “fun” ...

The next day, James was sitting in his Biology class -- one that just so happened to be attended by Ash, Gene, Lee, and Jason -- his ultimate tickle fantasies. To put his theory to the test, James decided to wear his leather flip-flops in his blue jeans today -- his all-time, unabashed favorite look. He was in class a bit early, and a bit nervous -- he did, after all, have a $2 million microchip in his hands that he couldn't lose. Students began filing in, and Ash -- donning that same NY cap as he did every day -- strolled on in, sat down at his desk, and pulled some homework out of his backpack. James made a bold move and decided to sit right next to Ash. They were still “kind of” friends, so it wasn't an out there move -- just an unexpected one. Ash looked up, a bit surprised.

"Oh, hey James."
"Whaddup, Asher Roth?"
"Stop calling me that!"
"But it's fun -- you being white and untalented at rapping and all."
Ash smirked a bit.
"Well, James & the Giant Peach,"
"-- hey! --"
"I'm a bit screwed, to be honest. Drank a bit last night, had the assignment half-finished, and forgot the lesson plan by breakfast. So, yeah, just a bit screwed as per usual."
"Well, it happens, don't it? Chin up, ol' pal ..."
As James said this last statement; he slapped the back of Ash's neck. A bit hard, but not too much.
"Hey! What's that for?" asked Ash.
“? You sober yet?"
"I am now, geez ..."
With this, Ash began rubbing his impact zone ... but his fingers did not happen upon the newly-implanted WaveClick at the base of his skull -- it was small enough to not even feel. James smiled.

The students had assembled, and the teacher was now knee-deep in a discussion about the endoplasmic reticulum -- riveting, I know. Even though James was copying down notes -- pretty much on autopilot at this point -- all James could think about was what kind of effect this WaveClick was having on his mind. He decided to put this notion to a test. Sneakily, he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, and got the camera loaded up. Noting that Ash was intently copying down notes, James made a move: he "accidentally" brushed his pen onto the ground. He brushed in Ash's direction, specifically making it out his reach. He whispered to Ash: "Hey, dude, I dropped my pen. Can you grab it for me?" "Oh sure" was the response.

Ash bent down under the desk to grab the pen ... oblivious to the iPhone camcorder function that James was training on him. Five seconds later, Ash handed him back his pen, and the lesson continued as normal.

Once James got back into the "flow" of note taking, he kind of forgot about his person-dominated scheme, and got focused on homework and assignments. Later that night, in his apartment, James was pouring over his notebook -- while unshod, naturally -- when he totally remembered the iPhone video from earlier. He loaded it up -- and, well, the camera angles weren't great. But then ... just in the corner of the screen, he could see Ash's face look ... at James' own feet. Just briefly, fleetingly, but there was no mistaking what direction those eyes were pointing ... and, to top it off, Ash actually moistened his lips! Holy crap! It was working already! James was already getting pretty excited about that, and not too long after, jerked off a big one before slipping into a deep slumber ...

ONE WEEK PRIOR

As the week had progressed, James was setting these "little traps" to catch Ash in. They worked each and every time; one video even revealing what could quite possibly be the sight of Ash hiding an erection. One day, after finishing riveting (cough) discussion on RNA, James began mingling with friends after class. He chatted briefly with Jason (his friend of Italian heritage who just happened to be wearing running shoes and no-show socks today -- damn), before he felt a small nest of fingers digging into his soft sides. James naturally recoiled, his body arching to try and avoid the monstrous shock that just forced him to emit a surprised laugh. He turned around and saw Ash -- still wearing that damn cap -- just staring at him.

"Hey, what the hell was that for?"
"Heh, just checking ..." said Ash, somewhat cryptically, before walking away.
James couldn't help but be insanely turned on by that brief little interaction. Could the WaveClick really be working that well? Could Ash suddenly be craving ... some tickle torture on James' thin, tickle-prone body? As the week bore on, James' fantasies increased -- as did Ash's tickle attacks. Every time, Ash attacked with more relish than before, continually one-upping himself in terms of how much tickle could be distributed to James in a classroom setting without drawing too many glares. James was soon turned on while walking “to” class, because the thought of being at Ash's fingers just teased and excited him so. Yet, the thing is, James honestly didn't know how this was going to end up -- he really didn't know what the WaveClick was actively doing to Ash, which excited him and -- quite frankly -- terrified him a bit. In truth, it was kind of nice having a bit of physical interaction with the guy he once called his best friend, but the fact that said interaction involved tickling ... well, that was just like having his birthday and Christmas rolled into one.

Then next Tuesday rolled around, and soon it was ...

DAY 1

James' bio class was at 1PM, and he usually got up around 10PM in order to eat breakfast and get ready for a trip to the community college and then TR-Corp straight after (although, due to certain lockdowns, it was just his class today). He was surprised, however, to get a knock on his apartment door. Groggy, he looked at his phone and realized it was 9:08AM. Who the hell could be wanting something at this hour? Was it a special delivery from the postman? Did the postman even arrive this early? James -- dressed in a white t-shirt and some pajama pants, groggily made it to the door. The knocking continued. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" he shouted. He opened the door only to see ...

... Ash. Standing there. Looking quite chipper given the hour even. James was a bit taken back, and surprised even.

"Um .... Hey there, Ash."
"Hiya."
"Um ... what's up?"
"May I come in?"
"Yeah, sure. I guess."

James opened up the door and let Ash in -- wearing a leather jacket, what appeared to be a vintage rock T-shirt underneath, some dark blue jeans, and his usual shin-high white socks and some solid black sneakers (and that damn Yankees hat, of course). Ash invited himself in, and James closed the door behind him. Ash took the unusual step of turning around and locking James' door behind him. James, still groggy and very confused, wasn't quite sure what to say.

"So, um ... what's going on, Ash? Is everything OK?"

Ash, calmly, removed his leather jacket and hung it up on the hook next to James' door. He did the same with his hat. It's at this moment that James noticed that Ash had a small travel bag with him, which was placed gently on the ground. That lightly bearded boy then stood up, turned to Ash, and smiled a devious grin. He took a small step towards James, and then another -- still silent. James instinctively backed up one ... and then the hands reached out. James turned to run but it was too late -- Ash had grabbed him in a bear hug and soon brought James to the ground. All Ash whispered was one very simple sentence: "Ticklish much?"

James screamed a bit -- but he was on the ground and Ash was on top of him, weighing his body down. Ash's fingers then crawled and danced over James ticklish ribcage, and the laughter ensued. Those little fingers were digging into all of James' worst spots, and James was so confused, all he could do was laugh. Little cackles teased and edged out of him, Ash's body weighing down on and squeezing the deep-seated laughs out of James like rolling through a tube of toothpaste. Ash's favorite thing was to take his index fingers and jab them right into James' armpits and wiggle them around. Just the index fingers -- like two devious little tickle sticks shoved right into James' ground zero. Of course, James' armpits were hairy, and each small rotation of those fingers just moved and twirled those little hairs around in there, giving Ash those all-important Bonus Tickles that were great in driving someone insane. James, awake for only four minutes now, was in Tickle Hell.

Although James tried fighting off Ash's hands, there was something different about his friend this day: he was “intent” on tickling his buddy. He wasn't stopping, and he wasn't taking no for an answer. Any time James tried to hold up a hand to block him, Ash grabbed it and slammed James' wrist down the ground, putting James in an awkward position that -- no matter what -- at least opened up “some” new tickle spot on him. It wasn't long before James had flipped over, lying face up and barefoot while Ash pressed his body weight down. Those meaty Ash hands had now began exploring his thighs, and suddenly those squeezes to those hamstrings sent James' voice up an octave. "Puh-pulease!!" was about all James could get out. He couldn't even get out the "Stop!" that would invariably follow. Ash, for whatever reason, was suddenly this world-class tickle freak, and he knew how to diversify, to keep his victim on nervous edge the entire time. If James had any other thought aside from "HOLY FUCK THIS TICKLES LIKE HELL!!!!” it would be that Ash was very, very impressive with his skills.

Those hands on the thighs were feeling James tickle flesh through his pajama pants, and it wasn't long before they made their way to James crotch ... and James' hard on. In truth, James hadn't even noticed how hard he was until Ash grabbed his cock through the pants fabric like a joystick. The tickling stopped momentarily. James, still in aftershocks of laughter, looked up at Ash, who got another devious smile. Then the words that followed: "Hmmmm ... wonder what we have here?" James immediately went red with embarrassment, and before he could even react, Ash pulled a freaking pair of handcuffs right out of his back jeans pocket ... and handcuffed James' hands behind his back. James was stunned, and next thing he knew, his ankles were handcuffed together! Holy shit -- this entire thing was premeditated to the T! James looked at the small bag that lay there next to his apartment door ... and shuddered to think what else was in there.

Yet James didn't have time for this! As he regained his composure, James was beginning to wrap his head around what had just happened. 30 minutes ago, his friend had burst into his apartment, tickled him into horny submission, and now had him bound very tightly. This ... wasn't right. James wanted to protest, but it was at this moment that he realized just how out of breath he was ... he couldn't even form a sentence. Ash, meanwhile, had picked up the handcuff chain between his two ankles, and began dragging James across his own apartment and to his own couch. Ash left James at the coffee table in front of the couch. James simply lay there, overwhelmed. He did see, however, from his carpet-level perspective, Ash toe his sneakers off. He caught a glimpse of the soles of Ash's white socks -- and they were kind of dirty. Like, Ash had worn them for two straight days kind of dirty. Ash walked over to James' kitchen area and found a bag of pretzels and beer from the fridge. He walked over to the couch, turned on James' TV, and propped his feet up so his feet were just barely hanging over the coffee table. James was still on the floor. An early-morning baseball game was on TV (the Dodgers), and Ash sat there, very content with himself.

After a few minutes of baseball commentary jetted by James' ear, he soon kneeled up -- kneeling being the only real position he could make with his hands cuffed behind his back and his feet chained -- and was kneeling facing ... Ash's socked feet. He had to tone things down a bit, because this was too much.

"Hey Ash ..."
"You got a foot fetish, don't ya?" Ash didn't even look at James as he said it.
James had a look of shock creep across his face. He was stunned, blown away by the sheer bluntness of that statement. If there was ever a doubt in James' mind, Ash was now a full-on dom.
"I ... well, yes I kinda ..."
"My feet turn you on, don't they?"
"I..."
Ash's socked right foot reached out and stroked James' raging erection through his pajama pants. James succumbed to a moment of weakness:
"Fuckin' hell your feet turn me on sir."
The statement tumbled right out of him. Ash turned briefly to James and showed off that trademark shit-eating grin of his.
"Sniff them ... but don't get your head in the way of the screen."
Ash looked back at the TV, and James ... was still stunned. There was no bullshitting around with Ash now, and he would have to realize that ...
"I said sniff them, bitch!"
James went into horny slave autopilot. His nose-dove into those socks, landing right at the base of the toes, and inhaled.

Christ, that was amazing. The sweet scent of male foot sweat, flaring up and dancing around his nostrils, each full-bodied inhalation through the nose filling up James' frame with a horniness he had never known before. Had he looked, James would see the precum becoming so prominent that it had actually made a visible stain on the outside of his pajama pants (which were already housing a pair of cotton boxers). For a few minutes, James' brain shut off and his libido took over, each intake of Ash-funk getting him closer and closer to orgasm. His hips began subconsciously thrusting with each and every breath. James may have very well gotten off from the smell alone had Ash not barked another order from his pretzel-filled mouth:

"Take my socks off with your teeth. Slowly. I want to see you enjoy it."

James, again, didn't hesitate. It took a bit for the teeth to really grip the rim of Ash's socks, but once he did, it took a few attempts to slowly drag that rim down his shins, past the heel, over the sole, across the ball, and ... revealing the toes. Ash's right foot was now bare, and his toes instinctively flexed a bit as the felt the nice warm air of James' apartment surround them. Without thinking, James placed his nose right at the base of James toes again, and inhaled. FUCK that could've been a cumshot right there. Not getting away from his task too much, James did the same for Ash' left foot, and then sat back, ogling the sight before him: his lust object Ash, eating some pretzels, drinking a beer, in blue jeans, with bare feet sticking out of them right on his very own coffee table. James ultimate fantasy had come true ... well, it hadn't fully come true until his newly minted master said the following: "Now, lick my feet."

Those words danced in his head. "Lick my feet", coming right from Ash's lips. Those three words had echoed in countless masturbatory fantasies for James, and to hear them actually form in front of him ... there was no ending to the feeling of elation he felt. Without hesitation, James dug in. His tongue was like an artisans paintbrush, and Ash's soles were the canvas of which to paint his masterpiece. His tongue darted between Ash's hairy toes, licked from heel-to-toe in one motion like a giant paint stroke on a house, and James even lightly chewed the hairs on the tops of Ash's perfect size-10s with relish. James got lost in the motions. After a bit, he began flicking his tongue on the tips of Ash's toes, and then looked up. Ash had unzipped his jeans, pulled his hard cock out, and was jerking with his eyes closed. The more that James licked, the more furious that Ash jerked it -- and before long, Ash's hips arched, James mouth tried to fit as many Ash-toes as it could into it, and Ash let out a streaming cum shot that almost hit the rim of that damn baseball cap. Both 20-somethings sat there, in the elation of it all. Ash was melted to the couch, blissful. He then snuck out one more order to his foot slave:

"Get yourself off before I change my mind."

As if James needed convincing.

The tongue lashed out to his master’s soles and began to lick. When he couldn't take it anymore, James asked for a bit of an assist, and Ash's right foot gripped the top of his pajama pants between his big and first toe, and helped pull those pesky pants -- and the boxers -- down. Then, James lived out his fantasy: Ash's soles still slick from their saliva coating, James rubbed his sensitive tip against his friend’s soles. Within five seconds he came on them with a fury that he had never known. James, exhausted (and his jaw hurting a bit), then fell back on the floor. He looked up, and could see a faint bit of his own semen on the edge of the table. For some reason, James thought it funny, and then promptly passed out.

When James awoke, his body wouldn't move. James was in his bedroom, and he was tied spread eagle to his small metal-framed bed set. And he was tied spread-eagle tight. He looked at the straps on his ankles and wrists -- these were professional-grade bondage straps. In walked Ash, silent and grinning as usual ... with a blindfold in his hand. James, weak, stuttered a "no" out of his mouth, but his still-in-jeans friend quietly walked over and covered up James' eyes. All he could do was feel his helpless body now ... and feel the reactions it was about to experience. Then ...

... nothing happened. For ten minutes. James' muscles were tense with anticipation, knowing very well that a tickle could be coming RIGHT NOW ... but nothing. Then, out of nowhere, Ash jumped on the bed, kneeling right in the space where James' forcibly-spread legs were, Ash's knees barely an inch away from James' balls. Instinctively, James tried to squirm, but he was tied fucking tight. His muscles barely moved. Ash then began speaking ...

"So, James ... tell me about some of your deepest sexual fantasies."
"Wait, what?"
"Tell me whose feet you want to lick and tickle."
"How the fuck do you know all of this, Ash?"
"I know the signs, my friend. I got a bit of a foot fetish myself, and I can tell when someone is looking at my feet. They are sexy, aren't they? Say, 'I get hard when you're barefoot, Master Ash.'"
"Listen, I..."

Before James could do anything, Ash's hands -- like military-trained tickled spiders, attacked James' ribcage like they were on a tickle kamikaze mission. Whooping in surprise, James fought and reeled and but couldn't do anything: not having any sort of motion made the tickling “that much more intense”, and James was pleading in mere seconds.

"Please stop!!!"
"Then say it!"
"I get hard when you're barefoot, Master Ash!"
"Say it again!"
"I GET HARD WHEN YOU'RE BAREFOOT, MASTER ASH!"

Ash was satisfied, but not completely. Ash's fingers began twirling around James' armpits and nipples slowly as Ash gradually extracted all of the sexual fantasies James had ever had. He talked about how he went to see a movie with Lee once and tried to take a picture of his flips-and-jeans feet with his camera phone, and nearly got caught, and how hot that espionage was. He talked about the time he was staying over at Jason's, waited until he was passed out drunk, and sucked on his friends toes until he came, Jason unconscious and oblivious to the entire thing. He spilled the beans on how he kept fantasizing about Gene's clodhoppers ever since he saw them bare for the first time over at a poker night. It was all frightfully embarrassing, but Ash was eating every detail up. Then ... James came clean ...

... about WaveClick.

Ash stopped. James babbled on about what it did and how this was all great but very intense and if Ash wanted to stop all of this, he could just dig in and remove the small chip on the base of his skull. James said all of this in a way that was almost pleading. Ash sat there and mulled it over ...

"But James ... I like tickling you."
"Well ... well of course you do! You're programmed to think that!"
"But, you don't understand, buddy -- I “really” like tickling you."
"Don't you want to stop that?"
"Tickle tickle ..."
"No, Ash, please! Pleashshahahaaha!"

James was then treated to a 5-hour non-stop no-holds-barred tickle session. Again, he passed out the second it was over.

DAY TWO

James was about to cum, and he just barely woke up.

It took a second for James to realize, but he had been wrapped in a cocoon made out of his own bed sheets, and those bed sheets where taped around his mummified body pretty damn tightly. What James was surprised about was that his phone had been wedged right into the space between his balls and up against his prostate. The alarm was going off. Apparently, Ash had set James' phone to vibrate. And the alarm was going off. Vibrating right against his manly pleasure arena. BUZZ then stop. BUZZ then stop. The alarm ... wasn't stopping. For obvious reasons, James couldn't hit the snooze. He was wrapped up very tightly in his own cum-stained bed sheets, his head sticking out of one end and his bared size 11 feet sticking out the other. As far as James could tell, it was around 6AM. Ash was sleeping on the couch. James couldn't say anything as his voice had gone hoarse. Ash wouldn't wake up for another three hours.

When Ash -- just in boxers now -- did wake up, he picked up his phone and called James' phone -- it buzzed again, but when the call was over, the alarm had stopped. Holy shit, though James, how the fuck did Ash know to do that? Again, the premeditation to this thing was amazing. James went into the kitchen and got out a bowl. He draped his dirty socks at the bottom of it and then poured some cereal over them, filling the bowl. Ash walked over and placed the bowl right at James face. Ash then said, "I'm taking a shower. Whatever you don't eat when you get back is thrown out."

Ash began using James' place like his own. Ash ate through the cereal -- he desperately needed whatever nutrients could be sucked out of those Captain Crunch doodads -- but as he got further down the bowl, the more that Ash-foot smell permeated. Ash had thought this through, and the more that James ate, the hornier he got. In a few minutes time, he was using his tongue to scoop up stray little cereal bits, just as his tongue graced the soles of Ash's socks. What a fucking genius move: start out the slave hungry and have him be rock-hard horny (and distracted) by the end of the meal. As terrified as James was, he couldn't help but be blown away by the evil genius of Ash's plans.

The rest of the day was pretty simple: still cocooned, Ash brought out James laptop and set it right in front of his face. Ash got to tickle and lick James' feet A LOT, and before long, James had given up every single personal password that he had. After Ash got into James e-mail account and began sending out elaborately-worded e-mails to James' school, parents, and other associates (offering his feet and a lickable incentive for James' silence as Ash wrote), Ash then had James showing him where, exactly, on his computer, James' foot and tickle videos/pics where. Ash put all of the pictures on a slideshow, and then, with James feet in his greedy hands, lightly tickled the slaveboys soles as he asked James for a detailed description on “why” he downloaded each and every pic and what about it made him horny. It was, again, humiliating as all fuck, and it took six hours. By the time Ash was done, James passed out yet again, and slept through the night and for most of the next day.

DAY FOUR

When James awoke this time, he was blindfolded. Yet he was strung up differently. He was standing, but his arms were pulled WAY over his head and tightly together. His legs were far apart and ... oh no! That position! That position that James always wanted to see Ash in -- he was now in it! And very naked. And very ticklish. The very fact that James was in this position gave him a very nervous kind of hard on, but that faded when he realized ... he wasn't being touched.

An hour passed. Then two. Then three.

Then, his hearing now the only real sense he had going for him being immobile and blindfolded like this ... he heard footsteps near his apartment door. Several footsteps. And some talking. Some excited-sounding talking. The keys went into James' apartment door lock ... and then it opened.

"AND HERE HE IS!" shouted Ash.

"Awesome!"
"Cool!'
"He doesn't even fucking know what's going to happen to him!"

Those voices ... they ... no.

Yes, they were the voices of Lee, Jason, and Gene. Jesus Christ -- Ash was bringing them over to show off his handiwork. Wouldn't they be disgusted though? A little scared maybe?

"What the fuck are they doing here, Ash?!"

The next 12 words out of Ash's mouth forever altered James life:

"It's amazing how hard it is to steal a couple of WaveClicks ..."

Immediately, James struggled as hard as he could, calling on his last remaining strength to perhaps pull the ropes holding his arms up down from the ceiling (or whatever contraption they were hanging from), trying to uproot his spread legs from the ground ... but no. It was pointless. Nebbish little Lee, strong ol' Jason, and burly Gene were surrounding their naked, ticklish prey. Then the fingers descended ... oh the fingers.

A few collective cumshots later (and a quick supper), James -- now too weak to ever show any kind of resistance -- was again tied spread eagle on his bed, but not blindfolded. James was still trying to figure out A> how Ash broke into TR-Corp, B> steal three more WaveClicks, and C> somehow find a way to program each one of them to the exact same settings his was on. The guys had set up four chairs around the bed, and were propping their bare soles right up on the mattress itself -- perfectly in James' line of vision. They were eating sandwiches on paper plates, talking about sports teams and hinting at some of the things they were going to do with their tickle toy. Then, the thin and eager Lee tossed out an idea:

"Hey Ashy: didn't you say that James had different fantasies for each of us?"
"Yup."
"Well here's an idea -- let's round robin him. One guy straddles him and tickles his pits while interrogating him about every little detail of that fantasy, two guys lick James' soles, and the other guy uses the video camera to film these things!"
"WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GUYS GET A VIDEO CAMERA FROM?" yelled James, but his screams fell on deaf ears.
"But," started Gene, "when do we stop tickling him? When he's done telling the humiliating fantasy?"
"No, smirked Lee, sporting an evil grin that he was obviously flashing for the first time, "we tickle him until he cums!"

All the guys had an amazing "a-ha" moment at that idea, and James almost burst into tears ... at least until Lee's bony fingers dug into his ribs and the roller coaster began.

Eight hours later, James had his fifth orgasm in a row (the guys discovered that licking James' body produced some really fun reactions) -- and it was a total dry-shot. It was simultaneously the most wonderful and horrible thing he had ever felt in his life.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

The only reason that any of the five tickle freaks left the apartment these days was to get food, and they did it quite begrudged: four of them were getting more and more addicted to tickling James, as if there obsession wasn't already deep-rooted enough. Just like Ash, the other three could only cum when their soles were licked, and James' jaw was getting more and more exhausted every day. Money wasn't a problem anymore: TickleJames.com had become an overnight sensation, known for being the single most merciless tickle site to ever hit the web. The guys' favorite part was when the $100-a-month VIP subscribers suggested devious new ideas. A huge hit was the day when the guys took a field trip out the beach. They dug a huge hole in the sand, put James in it, and buried him packed tight so that only his head was sticking out. The guys put up a beach umbrella, put towels all around James head, put their beach chairs facing inwards in a circle around him, and pawed his head with their feet for hours, filming him desperately sucking everyone's toes as they downed more and more beers and got drunker and hornier.

After only eight months, TickleJames.com had proved so popular that the guys were able to buy many wonderful things. New tickle brushes, new bondage sets, and -- one fateful day, a black market WaveCilck 2.0 -- the kind that “permanently” altered brain waves. James voice had long since gone, so he couldn't scream his objections as the guys gathered around their table -- James, as always, tied underneath and servicing feet -- and discussed what they wanted in a "perfect slave". James mind was warped now, and he could barely here those conversations -- yet he was none the less terrified the day the held him down on the floor, and proceeded to attach a WaveClick to the base of James' skull. He tried to scream, but then the WaveClick was snapped into place ...

And then the real fun began.