by SckFtTklFtsh
It was the final straw for Dave, Trent and Chris as they stood staring down at the sleeping figure curled up in a corner of the warehouse they worked at six days a week.
Ever since Joe, the boss’s son had started working there eight months ago, he had completely taken advantage of his position, showing no respect to his father, co-workers or anyone in the main packing factory where they worked. He showed up late, refused to do jobs he considered beneath him and continuously mouthed off to anyone that dared challenge him.
The archetypal spoilt brat, his prided himself on acquiring anything he knew others wanted, including girls. Knowing that Trent had long wanted to date Tania, the company secretary, Joe took great pleasure in taking her out a couple of times, sleeping with her and dumping her, delighting in regaling Trent with stories of their exploits before telling him she had been nothing more than “a bit of fun” to him and he was never really interested in her. Trent had sworn revenge ever since and now, here was Joe, practically unconscious, sleeping off the excesses of yet another late night while his colleagues had worked their asses off to meet a deadline.
“I swore I’d have my day with this fucker,” Trent said to Dave and Chris. “Look what we’ve gone through today to get this order out and this bastard has done nothing. I’m fucking sick of it.”
“You’re not the only one,” Chris replied. “Matt is too. On or no son, he’s sick of him too and only tolerates his bullshit because if he doesn’t he gets grief from his Missus at night when Golden Boy here gets in and tells tales about how Matt has been picking on him because he’s his son. I feel for the guy ‘cos she believes everything this little shit says.”
“What’s going on? Why you all standing round?” a voice called from behind them. They turned round to see Matt walking towards them. Moving aside, they pointed down at Joe. “We haven’t seem him at all today, we thought he was off-site,” Chris said.
“What? You mean he hasn’t done anything all day?” Matt fumed.
“No, nothing,” Trent said. “Look Matt, I know he’s your son but this is getting out of hand, we’ve…”
“Stop what you’re going to say,” Matt said, holding up his hand. “I’m not making any excuses for him. I know what he is and I’m sick of him too. If it was up to me I’d have got rid of him ages ago but you know how it is-Carol won’t have a word said against him and if I say anything at home all hell breaks loose and I cant be bothered with it. I can’t hurt him but I’m gonna teach the bastard a lesson-embarrass him. You guys gonna help me?”
“Yeah, sure,” all three chorused.
“Right, get that big pallet over here and lift him on to it. Gently-don’t wake him yet,” he smirked.
Following orders, the three men lifted Joe onto the pallet, him slightly stirring, grunting and going back to sleep.
As Matt returned, brandishing cable ties and rolls of pallet wrap, he filled the guys in on what he was going to do.
“The one thing he hates more than anything…” Matt said, grinning conspiratorially. “Get his gear off and spread-eagle him to the pallet. There’s cable ties there for his wrists and ankles-secure him to the corners with those then pallet wrap him-put rags round his arms and legs before you use the ties so they don’t cut into him. You need to leave access to his armpits, ribs, sides and thighs aswell.”
“Ok boss,” they agreed, looking at him questionably. “What we gonna…”
“You’ll see!” Matt laughed. Ever since his son had been a small child he’d displayed a weakness which Matt had used to discredit him successfully throughout the years.
Beginning to stir, Joe awoke to find himself secured to a wooden pallet, his bright blue eyes opening to survey the scene, trying to decipher where he was and what was going on. Dressed only in his white tank, Adidas track pants and work boots, he couldn’t understand how he had been restrained.
“What the f…?” he mumbled, attempting to move his arms and legs, mystified at why he couldn’t move. “What the fuck’s going on?” He looked up at the four men smirking down at him. “Let me up, you fucking freaks!”
“Nice sleep was it Joe?” Matt asked him. “You know I’ve been sick of your lazy-ass ways for a while and it doesn’t matter how many times I tell you, you don’t give a fuck. I’m sick of it son, and these guys have all had enough of carrying you too. You’re getting taught a lesson today.”
“Let me the fuck up!” Joe shouted, trying to free himself of the restraints. “I don’t know what the fuck you mean!”
“Yes, you do,” Matt said. Laziness, lateness for me, making your mouth go at these guys, stealing Trent’s girl…”
“Did I fuck?!” Joe shouted. “He shoulda done something about it if he wanted her”
“I told you I was gonna ask her,” Trent countered. “You steamed right in before I could get to her.”
“Fucking loser,” Joe said. “Lucky you’ve got your right hand, eh?”
“You fucking little…” Trent fumed, darting toward the restrained figure taunting him.
“Trent!” Matt yelled. “We’ve got him, don’t worry!”
“We?” Joe asked. “I’m your fucking son!”
“When it suits you, you are,” Matt said. “You’re acting like a fucking child so I’m gonna discipline you like I did when you were an awkward kid,” he added, tauntingly wiggling his fingers at Joe.
“Fuck off!” Joe shouted, his eyes widening in terror. “You dare!”
Leaning over his son, Matt put his hands through the pallet wrap and tickled his son’s ribs, eliciting a sound somewhere between a laugh and a shriek. “Ahahaha, don’t!!” he giggled, trying to throw his restricted body from side to side to escape the tickle torture, with no avail. “Ahahahahahaha, stop!!” he pleaded.
“Aw, look! Someone’s ticklish!” Trent taunted, as he and his colleagues laughed at the insufferable torture Joe was experiencing at the hands of his father. Reaching for his phone, he set it to video. “We’ve got to capture this!” He held up the device, filming Joe’s 6”3 inch frame squirming helplessly against the restrictive plastic, ties and tickling, zooming in as Joe threw back his head, eyes closed, mouth open wide. “PLEASE!!” he screamed, his blond curls dampening with sweat.
“We’ve only just started,” Matt told him, inviting his friends to join in. “Come on lads, get involved!”
Relishing the opportunity of revenge, Chris and Dave moved in to tickle Joe while Trent continued filming. Joe’s ticklish torment intensified as three pairs of hands invaded his ribs, neck and neck, driving him to hysterics. “Pleeeeahahahahahahahahaha!!! No! No! No!” he screamed, turning his head from side to side in a bid to cease the torture. “I can’t!” Hahahahaha!” PLEASE!”
“Oh yes!” Trent laughed. “I’ve got to get in on this.” He placed his phone on the shelf and moved towards the tickling trio and their helpless victim.
“Trent, what the little shit did to you was fucking disgusting,” Matt said. “Going after your girl like that, so you get the best bit.” He winked and smiled at him.
“Guys, come on, that’s enough,” Joe panted. “I won’t take the piss anymore, please!” “Shut the fuck up you,” Chris said, delving both hands into Joe’s sweaty left armpit. “It’s enough when we say enough,” he taunted over Joe’s desperate gasps and giggles. “Aaaaaahahahahahaha!” I can’t breathe! Chris mate, please!!!!” “Don’t fucking ‘mate’ me!” Chris mocked, moving down to Joe’s ribs and tanned stomach, now rock hard from tensing his abs in tickle-induced laughter. “You’re gonna learn!” “I can’t fucking laugh anymore!!” Joe moaned, thrashing wildly. “Please lads!”
“OK, give him a break,” Matt interjected as Joe gasped in air. “Fuck me, that was horrible,” Joe said, spent, dripping with sweat. “You lot nearly killed me!”
“You’re not such a big shot now, are you?!” Matt asked, looking down at his son. “The sooner you learn that you’re nothing here, except the hired help, and these lads, who’ve worked here for years aren’t answerable to you, the better. In fact, you’re gonna help them and do whatever you’re told, got that?”
“Just let me fucking up,” Joe fumed, red-faced from exertion and embarrassment. “Wait ‘til I tell mom what you’ve let these bastards do to me…”
“Oh RIGHT!” Matt laughed. “You hear that guys?! Listen son, you’re in no fucking position to be issuing threats. Trent, come on…” Gesturing towards Joe’s feet, Matt moved towards the bottom of the pallet. “This fucker’s never gonna learn…”
Lifting his head and looking down, Joe’s expression was sheer terror as he realised how his ordeal was going to continue.
“No, dad, please!” he begged. “I was joking, i-i-if you stop now I won’t say anything!”
His pleas fell on deaf ears as Matt and Trent each took one of Joe’s feet and began unlacing his sand-coloured, dusty work boots. “Dad, please!” Joe shouted. “Please!”
With the laces undone, Matt pulled off Joe’s left boot, grimacing at the smell that instantly permeated the air. “Fuck’s sake, kid!! When did you last change your fucking socks?!”
“I can’t find my other pair of work socks so I’ve had to keep wearing these,” Joe replied sheepishly. “Come on man, not my feet.”
“Other PAIR?! You only have two pairs?” Matt asked, incredulous. “You work six days a week, for God’s sake. How you only got two pairs of work socks?! You can spend $100 on a t-shirt but you can’t buy work socks?!”
“Jesus Christ, you’re not wrong!” Trent said. Dude, your fucking feet stink!! And I got the “best bit” Matt?!!” “Oh, you’ll see!” Matt smiled, throwing a dust mask at him. “Here, use that if you want!!”
Putting on the mask to cover his nose and mouth, Trent laughed. “I know you’re joking but I’m wearing it!! The stink of those fuckers certainly qualifies as toxic fumes!”
With Joe’s feet exposed, the anticipation of them taking advantage of his most ticklish areas was almost as bad as the ordeal itself. He lay there awaiting the inevitable torture…
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! “AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!” Head back, mouth wide, his guttural laugh escaped the instant their fingers made contact with Joe’s ultra-sensitive soles. “NOOOOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! “STOP!!! STOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!! PLEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!!!!”
Even through his sweat-drenched wool work socks, Joe’s agony was instantly evident as Matt and Trent delighted in tormenting their victim. Grasping Joe’s foot, Matt delved into every inch of Joe’s Size 12 foot, paying extra attention to his instep and digging into the base of his toes as his body bucked against the restraining plastic, flexing his foot in a desperate bid for mercy.
“DAD!! DAD!! DAD NO!!!” he screamed, his laugh alternating from deep belly laugh to high pitched giggle. “I’m gonna piss myself!!! Please stop it!!!!”
Meanwhile, as Trent took care of his right foot, Joe had been struggling so hard, flexing his foot, wriggling his toes, his sock had worked itself half of his foot. Soaked with his sweat, the sock was pulled off to expose Joe’s long, thin, bare feet, leaving him vulnerable to yet more torture, his laughter punctuated with convulsive gasps. “I CAN’T!!!! AHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! FUCK NOOOOOOO!!!!!”
His most ticklish spot revealed itself to be under his toes, as Trent’s fingers glided up and down Joe’s sweaty sole, circling his heels, across his instep before delving into the base of his toes, the long thing digits grasping themselves around Trent’s tickling finger like in a desperate bid for respite.
“NO! NO! NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!!” Joe screamed, as the warm, tell-tale sign of him losing control of his bladder made itself known with a circular wet patch on his grey sweatpants. “You bastards, I fucking told you!! Joe yelled. “You stupid bunch of pricks!””
“Alright, alright, he’s had enough!!” Matt called. “Now son. I was gonna pick this pallet up on the forklift trunk and parade you through the factory to show everyone just what a little pussy you really are, but I’m gonna let you off this time. I’m gonna get my gym clothes out my office for you to put on and let you off, but your behaviour changes here and now. The guys have got this whole thing on video and photos so you take one tickly foot out of line again and the footage will be everywhere, ok? Untie him, guys, he’s been warned.”
Trent, Chris and Dave cut open the pallet wrap and cable ties, releasing Joe from his torture. Getting up he picked up his boots and socks and skulked away from them, hiding the piss stain on his pants. “You bastards,” he raged. “You’re not fucking funny!”
“Oh, really?!” Trent grinned. “For not finding it funny you were certainly laughing quite a bit!!”
“Fuck off!!” Joe snapped.
“Here, get changed,” Matt returned, throwing clean clothes at him. “Get these on and get away home and sleep it off. We’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early, ready to work!” He winked at his team and grinned. “I know to how to discipline my staff. You all remember that, OK?!”
