by Soul Tickler
My appointment was at 8.30am.
I was told to be there half an hour earlier to fill out the paperwork. I hardly slept through the night. Linda would drive me there before work. This was all her idea. I forced some coffee down and we left. I was still hoping for a last minute cancelation once there but their no refund policy wasn't any help. Linda would never agree. I kissed my wife goodbye and entered the building. I headed to a receptionist behind a desk and told him I was in for the Advanced Program (28 days/27 nights). He gave me some papers to fill, the usual forms and questionnaires, then I followed a man in white down to the basement. I had to hand over all of my personal belongings, the cell phone included, and remove all clothing, passing it over, neatly folded. I used to wrestle back in college. Nothing to be ashamed of. Soon I was stark naked.
I entered the doctor's office like that, walking barefoot, a bare-assed man following a male nurse. Dr Smith was in his mid-forties, with sparkly eyes and a bright smile. We shook hands as he offered me a sit. He checked his papers.
"So Ethan, what brings you here?"
"Linda, my wife, says I can't control my anger. She read about what you do and thought I should give this a try".
Dr Smith asked if I was ticklish. I told him my brother used to tickle me when I was little, but I had never been tickled since. He wrote that down. He said people tend to think of tickling as something that fades with age, but truth is it doesn't. It can be as effective for a grown up man as it is for a kid.
"We live in a society that drives people crazy always asking for more. The Male Tickle Center is about letting go, giving away control. All we ask here is your consent and some papers signed. We take care of the rest".
It didn't sound that bad.
The nurse led me over to a scale and weighed me. I was asked to stand on each foot, to show my tongue, to strech my arms. Dr Smith took advandage of my position at that point to tickle my pits and smiled satisfied when I doubled over laughing. He had me lie down on a paper covered examination table and checked my body some more. The nurse plugged an electric trimmer in and ran it around my genitals, leaving a small pile of public hair on the ground. He did that to my armpits too. I had dark hair on the legs and chest, not too much on my back and butt. Everything was shaved off. I lost every single hair below my neck.
"You'll be fed three meals a day. It's required to consume all food and drink provided. You'll be tickled at least three times a day, without a pre-determined time schedule. Your participation will continue till the end of the program, even by force if necessary".
I didn't like that last one. I was walked off to the showers through a big space with tables and chairs, all of which were bolted down and immovable. The place looked a lot like prison. Once under the warm water, I was told to harry up. I was given a blue hospital gown, no underwear, a pair of flip-flops, plus a towel, some toilet paper, toothbrush and tooth paste. The doors had numbers painted on. My cell was #4. The room was windowless but bright thanks to big lamps on the ceiling providing artificial light. There were two metal beds with straps around the frame plus a squat toilet and a hand basin.
My cellmate was a tall, skinny 20 year old kid. He seemed to be the colorless, featureless loner with zero social life. Possibly an only-child. Probably a faggot too.
"Hi, I'm Ethan" I introduced myself.
"I'm Benjamin. You can call me Benji, it's easier".
A noise boomed from hidden loudspeakers and the metal door started moving. The electronic lock buzzed. This place was arranged in a much more systematic way than I expected. Benji and I talked a bit about our lives outside. Benji had left his hometown and a working class home to make it to the big city. He lived on his own in a small apartment down town, with few friends and no relationship. He said the Center helped him deal with depression. I noticed him staring at my feet as we talked. He tried not to be obvious about it, but it was. He seemed transfixed by their movement slipping out of my flip-flops. I guess I have good looking feet, strong from playing sports with good tendons and veins.
I stretched my legs straight out in front of him and wiggled my long toes. "Like what you see?" I teased him. I was aware of the fetish.
Benji flushed red as hell. He found it hard to speak and just shook his head no but continued to stare. He suddenly blurted out that I had really great looking feet but I felt he instantly regretted the remark. I told him I was strictly a lady's man, but if he was into men, I was cool with it. He admited he was.
The door opened and Dr Smith entered the room along with two nurses pushing a trolley with various instruments, including feathers, electric tooth brushes, hair brushes and a bottle of baby oil. Benji was asked to remove his gown. They had him tied to his bed in an X position with arms and legs stretched wide to the top and the base of the frame. His torture lasted about 20 minutes. In the end he looked like he was about to cry. I promised myself I would prove tougher. They had me lie face up and tied me down. I instinctively tested the bonds to see if I could get free. Not a chance. Those leather restraints were designed to keep me down no matter what. Real strong ones. I started to sweat a little as I realized how helpless I was. There was no tickling yet but the threat was in the air.
Dr Smith started with the feather duster on my chest, which was the least effective of all and only made me giggle. His fingers then teased the soft place right before the pits started. Every atom in my body was telling me to pull my arms down, but I couldn't. It's just not natural to be unable to protect your pits. I pressed my lips tight together. When he finally struck both my freshly shaved pits at the same time, I fucking screamed. Hair muffles sensation. I hadn't felt my skin there like that since puberty. I had no choice as to whether I wanted to be silent or not.
"No! Please DON'T! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hee hee!" Those were the last words I could speak before I dissolved into laughter.
"Ah, that's the spot, isn't it, big boy?"
He picked up the pace just a little. I had no thoughts but what was happening to me that very moment. I screamed and thrashed the best I could, pleading for release.
"Doctor! OH! C'mon, please! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hee hee! PLEASE!!! Ha ha ha ha!!!"
Dr Smith ordered his men to my feet. The nurses worked my soles with their index fingers, drawing little circles around the high arches and up to the balls. I totally lost it. I was still squirming when it was over. The nurses untied us and left the room. I stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily, my face and my whole body covered in sweat. We were given a bowl each with what was supposed to be our lunch, an undefined mush actually. I gobbled it all down without much thought and left the cell. The large space was now filled with men in blue gowns watching tv. I took a cup of coffee and sat down at a table with two others.
Leo and Caleb were cellmates. Their cell was #3. In his late-twenties, Leo was the wrestler type, 5'9" tall, 200 pounds of muscle, his arms covered in tatoos, currently working as a security guard. Caleb was a 6'5" tall black man and father of a boy. Together they had been arrested for a violent incident at a night club. I noticed the ankle monitors strapped to their legs. The Center was their alternative to jail. They had signed for the Advanced Plus Program, which meant additional time could be added to their 28 days if the doctor decided so, extenting their stay here up to six months. Leo turned out to be very sensitive on his upper body while Caleb on his size 14 feet. That was a big surprise for both. I asked their impressions so far. Caleb complained he missed smoking and drinking. His biggest issue though was the lack of sex. Instead of sweet-talking girls and long-dicking them, he now had some quiet wanks during the night, shooting his load down the squat toilet. Leo agreed on that. Wet dreams and stained sheets was the case for all inmates.
In the afternoon I was tickled once more. Dr Smith tipped a generous portion of baby oil into the palm of his hand and spread it all over the soles of my feet. He had me thrashing like mad, squirming and bouncing my ass on the mattress. I noticed the doctor rubbing the crouch of his pants. His slippery hand moved to my dick and he started playing with it. Being a bit older, I had passed my phase where I was horny all the time, but he finally jerked me into an unwilling erection. Despite my best efforts, I was at full-mast and close to shooting my load. My balls tightened. The first wave of cum landed on my face. Everybody laughed at that. Dr Smith scooped the cum with his finger and licked the finger clean. He took my tool inside his mouth, my mushroom-shaped cockhead pressing against his throat as he licked my dick clean, his tongue velvety circling around.
"I think you liked it, sweetie, didn't you?" he whispered in my ear.
I croaked out a faint "It felt alright". Truth is my excitement left me wondering.
We had the same mush for dinner. Benji said it would be the same for breakfast too. Three bowls of this a day wasn't much at all. When the lights were off, I took advandage of the privacy provided to use the toilet. I could still tell the outline of things thanks to a red exit light above the door. I hadn't pissed all day and I'd have to do it in front of Benji sooner or later. The first drops were hard to go, but once in flow, it just gushed out. A deep sigh of relief escaped my mouth as I emptied my bladder, then I crashed out face down on the bed and quickly fell asleep. I was woken in the night by something wet and warm on my toes. I opened my eyes and saw Benji kneeling before my feet popping out of the blanket. The fag was sucking my big toe while jerking off. I pulled my leg away from his mouth and Benji just froze there. Then he started crying. Unsure what to do, I told him it's ok, we'd talk about it in the morning and he raced to his bed.
Next morning Benji tried to explain himself but I didn't let him finish. I told him if he wanted my feet so much, he could have them, no big deal. He kneeled before me in a cautious move and lifted my foot in his hands. He massaged the sole a bit but when he was about to take a sniff, I pulled back slightly. I was getting amused he was so into it. It didn't turn me on or anything, still having a man at your feet surely helps your self-estim.
"You really want it, huh?"
He nodded.
"Go on, then". But again I pulled it back. Heh-heh.
He whimpered as I teased him. I had him on the floor, lifted up one leg, snapped my fingers and he instantly rolled over. I rested my wide sole on his face and he slurped and nibbled it all over. The male sweat electrified his taste buds. He tried to reach for his obvious hard-on underneath his gown but I kicked his hand away.
"No jacking off, fag".
Benji obeyed but his dick had a mind of its own oozing quietly forming a wet stain on his gown.
This time Dr Smith came in carrying a hair dryer, which he held up for me to see. He used it to heat up my strapped down soles until they glowed, being at the peak of sensitivity. Two nurses lathered oil all over. When the tickling started, it rocked me as nothing else had. That was a whole other level. The brushes had extra stiff bristles. I shouted and cursed. I reached a truly remarkable level of desperation.
"NOOOOO!!! PLEASE STOP!!! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hee hee! I'm begging! NO!!! NO!!! FUCK YOU GUYS!!!"
The tickling stopped but I kept laughing for a few seconds. Then my face changed to utter concern and seriousness.
"Dr Smith, please don't do this".
"Ah, but we must. You must be cured".
The tickling started over again. I struggled with all my strength, but I was just tiring myself out. I had to endure whatever was planned for me. My clenched toes soon relaxed giving access in between. The feeling of panic subsided. I was in a state of total surrender now, drifting in and out of consciousness. No thoughts. No worries. No nothing. The doctor had talked to us about the liberating side of tickling. There is this moment when tickling goes from pure torture to something else, we just drop out too quickly to know. I passed out at some point. I slept and when I woke up I wasn't tied down. I scanned the room but Dr Smith was nowhere near. Benji was sitting on his bed, looking at me with sympathy. My relief was so great I let my head fall back to the pillow. "Fuuuck" I said out loud while talking to myself.
"You loved it, didn't you?" Benji asked.
"Huh? I don't know" I mumbled.
"You have great feet, man. Really masculine looking and big, but you're more sensitive than a three-year-old". I smiled at his comment.
Dr Smith called me later to his office for an one-on-one. He asked me if I had any problems so far and I told him it was all good. He said he wanted to know a bit more about my brother. How old was he when he tickle-attacked me? How old was I? What happened exactly? Had I ever tried to tickle him back? Was he any ticklish? Well, he was 10 and I was 7. He had me tickled mercilessly on my feet, ribs and armpits until I screamed so loud that mother came and broke it all up. Similar tickle attacks kept going on until Brad's adolescence. I never tried to tickle my big bro back cause I was afraid of him. He was much stronger and an asshole. The doctor kept asking me questions. I could tell he was getting off on my story. He said we should bring Brad to the Center. If only I could make him apply!
Dr Smith had one last question. Would I describe tickling as pleasurable in any way for me? I thought of it for a second.
"It surely makes me feel alive, both in good and bad ways" I said.
Exiting the doctor's office I saw a man standing naked in the corner facing the wall. It was a common thing for inmates to be punished like that. Lucas was a 54 years old father-of-two. He was the oldest among us. He had joined the Center to cope with anxiety and sleeping problems after his beloved wife had passed away. We had some small talk together before. He seemed like a nice guy. I approached him, wanting to know what happened.
"They say I showed disrespect to a nurse but that's not true. It's just that when they tickle my feet, I lose my mind. I'm not myself when I get tickled" he complained while still facing the wall. I knew that feeling firsthand.
"I have sons their age, yet look how they treat me, having me stand with my fat ass exposed".
"It's ok, pal" I tried to calm him down. "Keep doing what you're told. Don't worry about what others might think".
"I didn't mean to be disrespectful. My feet are too damn ticklish" he repeated once more.
That afternoon Lucas was sitting at a table all alone and still naked. I brought two cups of coffee and sat with him. He thanked me as he took his cup with one hand while covering his privates with the other. I told him he worried too much. Naked or not, who cares. There's no women around. Lucas said he once had a body like mine, then slapped his stomach. He said this beer belly now made his dick look tiny. He was fat indeed. I was no six-pack either, but solid nonetheless. Poor Lucas. I imagined this 54 years old man getting tickled. No doubt he was sweating like a pig at the hands of those nurses.
"Yet it's not my beer beely I'm most ashamed of. It's that despite all the things I go through at the Center, here at nights I get the most peaceful sleep since my wife was alive".
I knew what he was talking about. Tickling is pure torture while it lasts, totally frustrating, totally humiliating, all that begging and pleading, but makes you feel oh so quiet and peaceful inside when it's over.
Lucas left the next day. He was worried about his sleeping problems returning once out. He was worried he'd be back at the Center sooner or later. The newbie that replaced him in cell #1 was a man in his forties, losing his hair on top. Robert had applied for the Novice Program (7 days/6 nights) and had this "I'm not even ticklish" attitude. "Trust me, bro. The less ticklish you are, the better. Dr Smith knows all about how to make us squeal like girls" I warned him. Robert didn't like to be lectured. He was in for a major attitude adjustment after tasting Dr Smith's medicine. He ended up screaming his lungs out, cursing and swearing, losing his gown for 24 hours, plus corner time 'til dinner, his butt being exposed to the world. I gave him a playful slap on the ass and all inmates laughed at that.
On Friday Benji and I were told we would be tickled non-stop until one of us begged for mercy. I begged first and lost my gown for 24 hours. It wasn't that humiliating, since the same happened to half the inmates, but I could tell some men felt really bad about it, especially the bigger ones having lost to the smaller, as if ticklishness has anything to do with muscles.
"You lost to Benji?" Caleb asked me in disbelief. I was having my coffee and he sat at my table. He was naked too, his big veiny black piece of meat hanging down the chair.
"What about you and Leo?"
"I was doing fine until those brushes touched my feet. I had to plead for the tickling to stop" he said in dissapointment.
We had our coffee together while watching tv. Caleb said he couldn't cope with it no more, he wanted out. I advised him to be patient. He shouldn't do anything stupid that would extend his time here or send him behind bars. When it was time to go to our cells, Caleb refused to follow. He told the nurse he needed to fuck some pussy right now or else. The nurse tried to calm him down, but Caleb was out of his mind. The man took out a taser gun and ordered the rest of us to our cells. Leo stayed with his friend. Caleb tried to avoid being tased but ended up to the floor and Leo followed. They were both in trouble. I was already in my cell when I heard men running into the room, then some noise, then total silence.
Benji later commented on Caleb's package, his huge dick and low hanging, bull nuts. I said I hadn't noticed but of course I had, all men do check each other out. Benji had my feet on his lap and was giving me a nice foot rub. He is a good kid.
I woke up as bright light filled the room. Benji was already up. That kid barely slept, if any at all. Dr Smith asked me to follow him to Caleb and Leo's cell where both friends were strapped down to their beds, blindfolded, with headphones playing loud music. I was asked to choose whoever I wanted. If I could make my man plead within ten minutes, I'd skip the morning session. No doubt I needed that. I headed straight for the Caleb's 14s, used one hand to hold back the toes and stretch the soft arch, then scratched it with the tip of my finger in a slow investigation. What a massive foot! So much flesh to be tortured! Poor Caleb... I lathered his sole with oil and really dug at his feet. The intense sensation shot through him. No sound emerged though until seconds later. The laugh came forth in a burst, like a roar.
"OH MY GOD!!! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hee hee! NOT MY FEET!!! Ha ha ha ha!!! Hee hee! Stop it!"
I giggled as well as the doctor. There was an unexpected hunger in the way I danced all over those beefy soles. I admit being on the other side felt amazing. Leo was quietly squirming in his bonds, listening to music, clueless about what his friend was going through. Caleb started to cough and gasped for breath. I got close to his blindfolded face, took one headphone out and whispered in his ear.
"Still with us, buddy?"
"Ethan? Is that you?" he recognized my voice. "Please pal, help me out of this!"
I put the headphone back and took the brush in hand. Soon I had Caleb broken and begging. Sweat was glistening from his muscular body. His impressive dick was laying semi-hard on his stomach. Dr Smith said I did a great job. He asked me to bring Benji in, then I was free to go.
Caleb and Leo got tickled by each and every inmate that day and made to beg by most of them. I thought Caleb would be mad at me but he wasn't. He said he would do his best to obey without causing any more trouble and advised me to do the same. Maybe the therapy was working after all, making us better men.
Sunday morning was visiting hours. I was led to this room where my wife waited. Linda looked stunning. She asked me how I was. I missed her sweet little voice. I told my wife she was right about the Center as she's right about pretty much everything. I'd be a different husband once out. She was pleased to hear that. I kissed her goodbye when our time was up and I was led back to my cell where Benji was sitting all alone. No one had come for him. I felt sorry for the kid. I pulled him close and hugged him. He asked if we would keep in touch once out and I promised him we would.
That night I didn't feel like feeding Benji my feet, but he seemed so sad and I did. I had him to the floor and rested my big foot on his face which instantly got him excited. He was a pathetic foot freak. I stepped on his boner and he grunted like an animal. A wet stain appeared on his gown.
I patted Benji on the head.
He is a good kid.
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