Timmy
and the Janitor (A Tickle Story): Part 1
by Christopher
Trevor and (as Consultant) Timmy Backman
himself...
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“Good evening Mr. Backman, Sir,” Rick, the bald, muscular,
well-toned, thirty something year old African American janitor said
in surprise as he entered Timmy’s office that evening at 9:30PM,
wheeling his small supply cart of cleaning equipment and implements
with him. “You sure are here late tonight. Burning the midnight
oil as the saying goes Mr. Backman?”
With his navy blue suit jacket hung on the back of his office chair,
his tie pulled down more than a couple of notches and the first
two buttons of his white button down shirt undone Timmy Backman
looked up from the piles of paperwork strewn on his desk. The look
on his handsome boyish face told of a day of stress and nothing
but work issues.
“Oh, hi Rich, yes, I suppose you could call it that, burning
the midnight oil,” Timmy replied and looked at the small digital
clock on his desk. “But I sure am danged glad that it’s
not exactly midnight, at least not yet. My wife would wonder what
in all heck happened to me if I weren’t home at that point.”
As Rich closed Timmy’s office door behind him Timmy leaned
back in his desk chair, laced his hands behind his head, stretched
his back a bit and took a few deep breaths.
“Vice President Bradshaw has me on a deadline I suppose it
can be said, that’s why I’m still here,” Timmy
explained as Rich began his duties by emptying the wastebasket that
was on the side of Timmy’s big desk. “It’s nearly
month end and all the big accounts; both payable and purchase have
to be cleared for the new month.”
“But I thought you were a banking lawyer Mr. Backman, not
an accountant,” Rich said as he took a carpet sweeper from
his supply cart and began cleaning scraps of paper, stray staples
and other office debris off the plush rug of Timmy’s luxurious
office.
“You’re right on that Rich,” Timmy said, stretching
his long legs out under his desk and crossing his feet at the ankles.
“But Bradshaw wants to make sure that all the invoices and
all the purchases are on the up and up. The way the economy is nowadays
every dollar counts. And who better than a banking lawyer to make
sure that everything adds up the way it should?”
“That makes sense, or c-e-n-t-s, as in money cents,”
Rich said and the two men grinned at each other and laughed softly.
“I’ll only be another half hour or so, if I’m
in your way just let me know, I can always go to the vending machine
or the men’s room or something,” Timmy said.
“Not in my way at all Mr. Backman,” Rich said. “As
a matter of fact, if you want me to come back after you’re
gone I can do that. Everyone else is gone, so I can clean the other
offices…”
“No, no, its fine Rich, you’re not in my way at all,”
Timmy said, leaning forward in his desk chair and unlacing his fingers
from behind his head. “I can finish this up while you do what
you have to do.”
“Thank you Mr. Backman, I appreciate that,” Rich said
and as he put away his carpet sweeper he suddenly took note of the
most strange looking device that was set up in a far corner of Timmy’s
office. “Uh, Mr. Backman, Sir, not to be nosy or anything
such as that, but what is that thing over there and do you want
it dusted along with the other furniture in your office?”
Timmy looked up and when he saw what Rich was talking about his
heart skipped a beat or two and his big cock, although it was soft
and relaxed at the moment in his suit pants churned a bit, along
with his big sweaty balls that were nestled in his trademark kangaroo
pouch underpants.
“Oh that, that uh, that’s a party device that my sometimes
friend and business associate Valerie Levi had delivered here for
the time being,” Timmy explained, tugging a bit on his tie
as he spoke, his ever-present nervous tic coming into play at that
moment. “She uh, was going to have it delivered to another
associate of hers who had ordered it but they’re out of town,
and Ms. Levi didn’t have ample space in her warehouse at the
moment, so she asked if I would keep it here until her associate
returns. You see uh, Ms. Levi owns an import and export business,
and that there device is one of her, her uh, danged specialties.”
“So she had it delivered here, to your office?” Rich
asked.
“Yeah, I and my wife Stephanie, we uh, we already have one
in our house and I could not fit another one, even temporarily,
so being the good friend that I am I permitted Ms. Levi to store
it here in my office, temporarily.”
“Well, at the risk of being nosy again Mr. Backman, can I
ask what in all hell this thing is?” Rich asked, running a
big palmed hand, a rough and calloused hand actually, that had no
doubt seen more than its share of heavy-duty weight lifting exercises,
over the polished wood side of the round device.
“It’s uh, it’s called a “Spinning Chinaman”,
Timmy replied, standing up and still tugging nervously at his tie.
“It’s a party device called a “Spinning Chainman.”
“A spinning Chinaman?” Rich asked. “I never heard
of such a thing.”
Rich took in the sight of the huge round device, a large wheel actually
that was mounted within a strong wooden frame. On four corners of
the wheel were short leather shackles and in the center of it was
a longer leather strap dangling down.
“Well, it uh, it was created in the Orient a long time ago,”
Timmy said, stepping over to Rich on the other side of the device.
“Basically it’s used at parties and social gatherings
as a game of sorts.”
“A game, of sorts?” Rich asked, placing a hand on one
of the wooden spokes of the wheel and trying to give it a turn.
“There’s a metal pin in the center of the wheel,”
Timmy said, pointing. “You take the pin out and that frees
up the wheel so it can be spun, and in this case the wheel can be
spun either manually or electronically, seeing as this is an updated
version of the “Spinning Chinaman.”
Timmy stepped over to his desk and picked up a remote control device
as Rich took the long metal pin out of the center of the “Spinning
Chinaman.” Timmy came back over to the device with the remote
control, pointed it at the “Spinning Chinaman” and pressed
a button on it. The wheel started spinning in a slow motion. Timmy
pressed another button on the remote control and the wheel sped
up a bit.
“It has various speeds on it, depending on just how fast or
slow you want it to spin,” Timmy explained.
“You said it was a party device Mr. Backman,” Rich said,
watching in awe as the wheel spun in a clockwise direction. “How
is something like this used at parties?”
“Well, it’s essentially used as a game of questions
and answers,” Timmy explained further but Rich’s expression
turned even more befuddled looking. “Okay, let me get down
to the nitty gritty of this thing. I suppose you can say it’s
a “Trivial Pursuit” game with a twist, or more precisely
in this case, with a spin.’
“Okay…” Rich said and Timmy pushed a button on
the remote control device, turning the “Spinning Chinaman”
off, stopping it spinning.
As the wheel stopped spinning Timmy saw that Rich had placed the
long metal pin in his workpants pocket, no problem at the moment,
seeing as the curious guy would probably like to see that the device
spun in a counter clockwise direction as well.
“Basically the way it works at a party is this, a party guest
is somehow chosen to be strapped into the “Spinning Chinaman”,
Timmy began and Rich’s dark eyes opened nearly as wide as
saucers.
“How are they chosen? And can this thing really support the
weight of a person?” Rich asked.
“Well, usually the person to be strapped into the device is
chosen by a draw of cards, he or she who draws the lowest value
card becomes the spin recipient, or some other fair method,”
Timmy replied. “And yes, just look at the size of this thing.
It can hold a person even as big as me or you Rich. The straps at
the ankles, calves, wrists and the one that goes around the waist
are very secure.”
“Amazing, and once the person who is selected is strapped
into it what happens next?” Rich asked, reaching up and fingering
the leather wrist strap at the side of the device where he was standing.
“Well, then like I said it becomes like Trivial Pursuit, the
person strapped into the device is asked a question,” Timmy
went on. “The question can be based on whatever subject matter
has been agreed upon. If they answer the question correctly they
don’t get spun. However, if they answer the question incorrectly
they get spun, for as long and as fast or slow as the person asking
the questions decides.”
“Holy crap, what a great game,” the janitor said almost
breathlessly.
“Yeah, and uh, while they’re being spun, the person
spinning them and the party participants can also make the spinning
person’s life even more miserable by uh, tickling them,”
Timmy said, sounding woeful. “While they’re being tickled
it can cause them to become distracted and they perhaps won’t
be able to answer the question correctly, thus, they get spun and
tickled some more, so it becomes all the more harrowing for the
poor person shackled into the device, you see.”
“T-tickling them, did you say tickling them???” Rich
asked, sounding incredulous at that point.
“Yeah, tickling them,” Timmy said, beginning to sweat
at that point and trying to remember how he had been shanghaied
into this conversation, once again tugging at his tie. “And
if you really want to humiliate the person being tickled it’s
always fun to strip them down to their underwear. Of course it would
have to be THAT kind of party gathering with THAT kind of people
at the party, I think you get my drift.”
“Hell yeah, I was already on that part of it,” Rich
said gleefully, his pearly white teeth making his grin look all
the more villainous.
“I’m thinking that maybe I’ll have you put me
in touch with your associate Valerie Levi and see just how much
she wants for one of these babies. I can see myself really getting
into this game with some sexy broads. Fuck, tickling some sexy ladies
pussies would be beyond fun, wouldn’t you say Mr. Backman?”
“I, uh, I wouldn’t know,” Timmy replied, letting
go of his tie and Rich saw the look of anguish on the banker’s
handsome face.
“Did I say something wrong Mr. Backman?” Rich asked.
“No, no, it’s just that you see, well, of all the parties
I’ve been to where this danged “Spinning Chinaman”
device is concerned, well, I’ve always somehow wound up as
the poor slob who winds up strapped into it, and not only am I strapped
in and stripped and tickled, but my so called good buddies see fit
to blindfold me as well, dang, which makes it all the more intense,
and of course difficult to answer questions,” Timmy said.
“And believe it or not, even my wife has been present when
I’ve been strapped into this thing at parties. And instead
of supporting her husband she also joins in the fun of having me
stripped and tickled, jeez, that Stephanie is a handful let me tell
you Rich. So, anyway, uh, when you do play “Spinning Chinaman”
someday remember that you may not just be tickling women, but men
as well, or God forbid Rich, you yourself could wind up as the victim
in the “Chinaman.”
“Men, women, who cares, tickling is tickling,” Rich
said. “But I doubt I would wind up in this thing, seeing as
my luck always seems to be on my side.”
“Lucky you,” Timmy whispered.
“And I got to tell you Mr. Backman, you make it sound like
it would be so awful to wind up as the recipient of the “Spinning
Chinaman”, Rich said, giving Timmy’s tie a tug himself
this time. “And from the sound of things where your wife is
concerned, well, all I can say is that you are one lucky so and
so. I doubt that my wife would EVER go for a kinky sort of party
like what you described a few minutes ago.”
“Hmm, yeah, sure, you can’t imagine how very ticklish
I am,” Timmy said to himself and stepped to the leather wrist
restraint that was on his side of the device where he was standing.
“Anyway, as you can see there are very strong leather restraints
on all the corners of this device,” Timmy said, gripping the
restraint in his fist.
“Yeah, so I see, and they look like they’re real easy
to use when fastening a person into this thing,” Rich said,
stepping next to Timmy and gripping the restraint that Timmy was
holding onto as well.
“Yeah, they’re like miniature belts in a way, all you
have to do is slip it around a person’s wrist…”
Timmy said and then seeming to be in a trance as Rich was undoing
the restraint, stretching it out and then it was wound about Timmy’s
wrist, scant inches away from his rolled up shirt sleeve.
“You mean like this huh Mr. Backman?” Rich asked and
Timmy’s eyes opened wide when he saw that the leather restraint
was now curled tightly about his wrist.
“Yeah, uh, yeah, something like that uh, Rich,” Timmy
said and suddenly found himself sweating and felt his cock engorging
in his suit pants. “Just uh, just like that…I suppose…”
Seconds later Timmy found himself standing mounted in the “Spinning
Chinaman” with one of his wrists shackled tightly, his other
hand still at his side.
“Wow, that sure must make one hell of a party game Mr. Backman,”
Rich said, standing in front of Timmy as the banker/lawyer seemed
to be squirming, wondering HOW he had wound up as the demonstrator
for the janitor, and wondering HOW in all hell he had allowed the
infamous Valerie Levi to talk him into having the device delivered
to his office of all places, to be temporarily stored there at that.
“Yes, as I said, it does make a great party game,” Timmy
agreed, his head arched back a bit and his Adam’s apple bobbing
nervously in his throat. “But in my case it has made for a
lot of time spent strapped in here, tickled, stripped to my danged
socks of all things and even edged while in this thing, if you can
believe that,” Timmy said miserably.
“Stripped to your socks Mr. Backman?” Rich asked and
as Timmy reached up with his free hand to undo the restraint around
his shackled wrist the janitor gently, but swiftly took Timmy’s
free hand into his hands, holding it tightly and moving it away
from the banker/lawyer’s restrained hand, massaging Timmy’s
hand as he did so. “Damn, who in all hell would strip a guy
like you to his socks of all things? And edge him of all things?
Damn, that is a mean thing to do to a worked up sex crazed guy.”
“Well, obviously you’ve never met any of my buddies
who seem to wallow seeing me in such a fashion,” Timmy responded.
As Rich spoke he chuckled a bit and when Timmy looked down for a
moment he saw the tent in the janitor’s work pants…
All this talk of tickling, humiliation and edging had obviously
affected the guy, in a very potent way at that, as Timmy could tell
that Rich was VERY, very well endowed in the area of his manhood.
Then, Timmy heard himself suddenly pleading as Rich raised his other
hand toward the other leather restraint.
“Uh Rich, that uh, that’s enough of a demonstration
I would think here,” Timmy sputtered, his sexy Southern accent
suddenly sounding VERY paramount, as it always did when he was nervous
or as he was in this case, suddenly feeling very panicked. “There’s
uh, no need to go any further…would you agree?”
But it seemed as if the janitor had gone temporarily deaf, or he
was just plain ignoring what Timmy was saying at that moment, as
he slowly raised Timmy’s hand closer to the leather restraint.
“Uh Rich, oh my word, what all are you up to here Sir?”
Timmy bantered then, the soles of his shoed feet sliding a bit haphazardly
as he balanced himself in the “Spinning Chinaman”, pressing
his waist against the back of it at the same time.
As Timmy tried to pull his still free hand out of Rich’s grasp
Rich gripped Timmy’s wrist all the tighter in his mammoth-sized
hand, undoing the restraint at the same time with his other hand.
“Oh God no, Rich, please, not what I’m thinking here,
please man,” Timmy pleaded now in a high-pitched tone of voice.
In what seemed like a micro-second later Timmy found himself shackled
at the wrists and once more trapped in the device known as “The
Spinning Chinaman.”
Timmy pursed his lips together in misery, realizing he had been
had yet again and was again in the clutches of someone who wanted
to have some “Spinning Chinaman” fun with him…
As Timmy stood balanced and totally helpless in the device he watched
as his cock pounded in his suit pants as Rich slowly undid his tie,
sliding it out from the collar of his white dress shirt.
“What, what…” Timmy began as Rich held up his
red silk power tie.
“Coming up Mr. Backman, your power blindfold,” Rich
laughed evilly then.
To be continued
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