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The Hopelessly Ticklish Student - Chapter 5

by Ticklish Tickler

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After dinner, we both headed inside to shower. I was first to finish and return to the family room, where I spread out on the long end of the L-shaped couch, cold beer in hand and wearing just my boxers. I turned on the college game where our two teams happened to be playing, archrivals in college sports. Jason eventually made his way to family room, also wearing just his boxer briefs and a cold beer in hand. 

 

“Aw, shit!  Forgot this game was tonight.  The game where we’re going to slaughter your candy ass players!” he taunted, accentuating his comment by touching his ice-cold beer to my barefoot laying exposed on the couch.  Caught off guard, I cried out in surprise, laughed and yanked my foot away. I was surprised but delighted that he reached down and grabbed my other ankle, plopped his muscular body down on the couch where my feet had laid, gently placing my ankle in his lap. I cautiously dropped my other leg down, resting both ankles precariously in his control  in his lap.

 

I had such a rush of mixed emotions. I was thrilled he was now basically sitting under me with our bodies touching. And apprehensive of what he had planned for my unbearably ticklish feet, now resting in his lap and pretty much in his control. And meanwhile, incredibly turned on knowing that it was highly likely we would be engaged in a tickle wrestling match of some sort within minutes.

 

“Dude, make yourself comfortable!” I blurted out sarcastically, intentionally antagonizing him in hopes of starting something.

 

“I did!” he fired back in an equally sarcastically tone, that familiar devilish smile on his face.

 

“I’m cool with my feet being in your lap if you’re going to massage them,” I quipped, a teasing smile on my face

 

“Yeah? Like this?” he asked teasingly, starting to knead my feet with his muscular hands. I was surprised he was massaging my soles and not tickling them.

 

“Yeah, man, that feels really good,” I answered laying back against the pillow, tucking my hands behind my head and enjoying having my feet massaged.

 

“Or maybe you’d prefer a lighter touch, like this?” he teased, dragging his fingernail up my barefoot slowly, and then dragging it back down.

 

I bit my lip trying not to burst out laughing from the unbearable tickling sensations. “Nah, man, definitely the first thing you did felt better,” I managed to blurt out, desperately trying to endure his slow tickle attack.

 

He laughed a deep, masculine laugh. “Yeah? I don’t know, I personally prefer this, and I can see your body tense up and that means you’re getting a workout, which is good for you.” He kept his fingertip stroking up and down my sole, my foot flexing and wriggling uncontrollably, as I held back the laughter as long as I could before losing it, a deep, helpless peal of laughter emerging from my chest. “Ah yes, and laughter like that is also very good for you,” he taunted.

 

I couldn’t take any more and tried to pull my leg away to free my feet from his control but he was prepared and had a strong grip around my ankles with his free, muscular arm. He stepped up the attack knowing I was in trouble at this point. I really lost it and started desperately trying to yank my legs from his control but he wasn’t having it, his unbearable tickling attack alternating between both of my soles continuing unabated.

 

I was laughing and crying out for him to stop, wanting it to stop but unable to free my legs and stop his attack. Becoming more desperate to stop his attack, I thrashed around and yanked on my legs, trying to break free, eventually causing my upper body to roll off the couch, my head and shoulders falling to the floor. He roared with laughter at my predicament. Still he didn’t let up or let go, but I had the advantage of gravity and it only took a few more desperate yanks of my legs to free myself from his grip and tickle attack.

 

It took me a minute to regain my composure, pick myself up, trying to lose the obvious hard on tenting my boxers. “Jesus, Jason!” I finally blurted out. “It’s like nothing will stop you, not even me falling on my ass!” We both laughed, as I picked myself up and sat back down, but this time with my legs outstretched on the other L section of the couch and out of his reach. We continued watching the game, chatting and giving each other shit about the other’s team.

 

“Want another one?” he asked, standing up to get another beer for himself. I nodded, and he headed to the kitchen. When he returned, he brought me my beer, set his down on table nearest my feet, grabbed my ankles and lifted my legs to make room for his body under my legs again. I looked at him with a look of protest and he just laughed, that same mischievous smile on his face I’d come to know and dread.

 

It didn’t take long for his fingers to begin dancing up and down my sensitive soles, and another tickling wrestling match ensued. Only at one point, he surprised me by jumping up and pouncing on my upper body. Before I knew what happened, he’d managed to get into position on top of me, his ripped body straddling my waist.

 

I was trying to fight him off but between his surprise move and the leverage he had coming from above, he managed to grab my wrists and use his powerful arms to pull my wrists up over my head. I was feeling a bit desperate and vulnerable being pinned and helpless like this, yet my dick was getting rock hard from the feeling of him on top of me and the hot visual of this muscular, hairy-chested dude stretched out just a foot above me. 

 

I tried pulling my arms down but Jason is so freaking strong and was  in control so he had me pinned good. Not surprisingly, he kept one hand and his weight in place pinning my wrists down while pulling his other hand down to my side, where he started kneading my exposed rib cage, squeezing and stroking until he sent me into hysterics.

 

“Your torso is definitely your weak spot, dude!” he said with pleasure as he proceeded to tickle torture my vulnerable, helpless side from my abs up to my pit. I squirmed and roared with laughter, trying to break free but having little luck in moving the solid, 200-pound Adonis pinning me to the couch.

 

We wrestled and I tried to wriggle from his body straddling mine but somehow only managed to eventually roll over on my stomach. He maintained his grip and pressure on my wrists, keeping my arms pulled taut above my head and leaving my side and pit helpless and vulnerable to tickle attack. As he wrapped his free hand around my side and begin pressing his fingers into my skin as he made a trek from my waist to my pit,

 

I suddenly realized that being tickled from behind like this was actually much worse than being tickled from the front. It must be because it places his fingertips in the most ticklish spots, allowing him to press into my rib cage and dance through my super sensitive pits.  I was roaring with laughter, begging him to stop and squirming as much as his body allowed. Jason is relentless in his tickle attacks, and I think because he had such an upper hand in his dominant position over me he just kept going.  I laughed and begged him to stop but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

 

His tickling soon became unbearable, and I was losing my breath, so I began thrashing about wildly trying to free myself. I eventually managed to knock him off balance with my desperate thrashing about, and before he could catch himself, he fell back and came crashing down on his back, glancing off the coffee table and falling with a thud on the carpeted floor below. I jumped up to make sure he wasn’t hurt, and after a moment to catch his breath we both burst out in laughter as I grabbed his hand and helped him up to the couch.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” I asked. The sound his body made hitting the floor sounding pretty bad. He just burst out laughing, and I joined him with laughter of relief that he’d not gotten hurt. 

 

“You just managed to knock the wind out of me, Hunter,” he said with a wink. I sat on the couch beside him as we both worked to regain our breath.

 

“Jason, seriously, I think one of us is going to get really hurt if we keep going like this. You’re going to have to tie me down or something if you insist on tickling me so intensely like that!” I blurted out before thinking. He looked at me but didn’t say anything. I tried to break the awkward silence in the room with a nervous laugh, hoping to make light of it in case it took things in a weird direction for him.

 

“You serious?” he asked, a devilish smile on his face. My face must have communicated I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “About me tying you up?” he clarified.  I smiled as my heart raced at where the conversation was going.

 

“Well, that depends,” I said teasingly. “You have anything to actually tie me up with?”

 

“Ah yeah,” he said with a laugh. “As a matter of fact, I do. It’s upstairs in my room.”

 

“Dude, you packed bondage equipment to come here?” I asked with a laugh.

 

“Not initially,” he answered with a smile. “But when I discovered that you were still as ticklish as you were in high school, I swung by my house to pick up some supplies.  Just in case the situation presented itself.” I couldn’t believe my ears! My head was spinning at trying to process where this conversation was going.  And my dick was hard as a rock.

 

“Well, shit then,” I said nervously. “Let’s fucking do this!” My heart pounded as we headed upstairs. I was finally going to experience a real bondage and tickling scene, something I’d fantasized about for years but had little chance to experience. And now it was going to happen with what is probably the hottest dude I’ve ever known being the one to take me down.

 

After reviewing the options, we decided my parent’s solid, four-poster, king-sized bed would be the most suitable, and he began pulling out Velcro wrist restraints and formidably thick rope. I decided I’d better take care of business before we began, trotting off to the bathroom.  I was nervous as hell pondering what was about to happen, and excited at the same time. Jason had proven to be a serious contender when it comes to tickle torture and I wasn’t sure how much I could take once he got me tied down and helpless to stop him. But I was dying to find out!

 

I grabbed a couple of water bottles from the kitchen and returned to the bedroom, where Jason had completed affixing the restraints to the four posts. My heart was pounding as I laid on the bed on my back and he began to secure my wrists in the straps.

 

“I have a confession,” I said, trying to fill the silence while he worked. “I’ve fantasized about you tying me up like this.  For years!”

 

“Yeah? That’s cool!” he said with a chuckle. “Guess I must’ve made an impression on you in my one semester of student teaching.”

 

“Fuck, yeah, man! I used to get wood just watching you walk around the classroom,” I blurted out.” I had such a crush on you!”

 

“Wow, I’m honored!” he responded, closing the strap on my left wrist and moving to the other side of the bed. “So I have a confession for you. That day when I came in and those guys were tickling you, I actually hid around the corner and watched them tickle torture you. And truth be told, I was rubbing my own hard on watching you get it!” We both laughed.

 

“Jesus, as much as you’ve been tickling me the last two days, Jason, I suspected you had actually joined them tickling me that day!”

 

“Oh, trust me, if there had been a way I could’ve, I would’ve, Hunter buddy!” Again, we both laughed at the craziness of it. “Truth is, I’ve gotten off on tickle torture for as long as I can remember.  Used to pin my younger brother down and tickle the shit out of him, and as I got older, I just found other victims or my torment. And frankly, had I known you’d grown up to be such hot stud, I’m sure I’d been fantasizing about getting you in this very position as well” He closed the Velcro strap around my wrist as he finished his statement and punctuated his comment with a quick tickle of my exposed pit, causing me to yelp and cry out in surprise.

 

“So you think I’m a hot stud?” I asked teasingly. He smiled, his handsome face lighting up.

 

“Uh, ya!” he said with a laugh. “I mean you were pretty cute and had a decent body back in high school when I was coaching you, but me being a teacher and you being underage I didn’t give it much thought. But you’ve grown up nicely, dude!” he said with a laugh. “That boyish face morphed into a handsome man with a sexy smile and close-cropped beard. And this lean, muscular body with a sexy light coating of hair on your chest and across these washboard abs, well….let’s just say you are definitely not a boy but quite manly!” he said, ending with a purring sound and dancing his fingertips across my abs.

 

My dick was standing at attention by this point, between the confessions of this hot tickle torture fetishist, his playfulness and tickling and him trussing my arms outstretched and leaving my hopelessly ticklish torso vulnerable to his torment.  “Bondage and tickle torture is something I’ve fantasized about most of my life but never got to experience,” I admitted in response to his confession, as he moved to the foot of the bed to take care of my ankles. “Another thing I’ve seen in videos on the Internet is a guy being edged.  Do you ever do that to one of your victims?”

 

“Oh ya!” he said with a laugh. “You think you’d want to try that?”

 

“Um, yes, please!” I said with a laugh.

 

“Sure, man. Of course, that means you’ll have to lose those,” he said, nodding at my boxers. “You cool with me taking ‘em off of you?”

 

“Hmm…yeah,” I said nervously, realizing I was putting myself in a vulnerable position with my former teacher. He reached up, grabbed my boxers at the waist, allowing his fingernails to scrape against my abs. That made me laugh from the unexpected tickle, and he just smiled and pulled my boxers down and off my legs.  My dick sprung free, sticking straight up in the air.

 

“You sure look like you’re up for some cock teasing!” he said with a laugh, giving my balls a quick tickle, which made me gasp in surprise. Grabbing my ankles, he yanked on my legs, pulling my body down the bed and stretched my arms to the max to make sure I was completely spread-eagle and helpless. He pulled my left ankle out and to the corner of the bed to secure it in the restraint. He then pulled my right ankle out to the corner and gave it a good tug to make sure I was fully stretched out and helplessly unable to move an inch, before fastening it in the restraint. “Alright, Hunt. Give those legs a good yank. I want to make sure you’re tied tight and not going anywhere.”

 

I yanked on my legs but they barely moved, thanks to the expert bondage he’d rigged up.  I pulled on my arms and they were immovable too, my super ticklish armpits extremely vulnerable and unprotected.  I gulped nervously, realizing I was completely helpless and vulnerable, at this stud’s mercy.  Or lack thereof.  My heart was pounding.

 

“C’mon, dude, you can yank harder than that!” he teased as he began dancing his fingertips up and down my helpless soles. I cried out with laughter and instinctively began yanking wildly at the restraints holding my body in a helpless prone position.  No matter how hard I yanked on my legs and arms, I could barely move. “C’mon, Hunter, you’re stronger than that!” he taunted.

 

“No I’m not!” I cried out while laughing hysterically. His unexpected and relentless tickle torment of my soles was unbearable, causing me to thrash as much as the taut ropes allowed. “Hhahahahaaaa! C’mon, Jace!  I can’t take any more!” I cried out in protest.

 

“Dude, you should’ve thought of that before you allowed me to tie you up like this! I’m just getting started!” he said with a sarcastic and deep belly laugh, his fingers dancing nonstop up and down my soles.  He kept up the tickling attack for another 30 seconds before stopping to allow me to catch my breath. “Damn, this is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel, Hunger!” Once again, he laughed a deep, satisfying laugh at my predicament.

 

I wasn’t angry, though. I was so freakin’ turned on by how much he was enjoying making me suffer, my dick at full attention and starting to ooze precum. As unbearable as his attack was, it was one of the hottest things I’d ever experienced, especially laying there looking up at Jason’s muscular, hairy torso and the mischievous smile on his face. I also couldn’t help but notice, thanks to his form-fitting boxer briefs, Jason had some major wood going himself.

 

He moved over to his gym bag and began pulling some additional tickling implements out, laying them on the nightstand. His collection included a selection of brushes, oil and feathers along with a metal wartenburg wheel. “Jesus, I hope he doesn’t use that on me!  I don’t know if I could take it,” I thought to myself. He picked up a familiar-looking white, stiff-barbed feather and turned toward me. “Is that the feather you used to tickle my feet all last night?” I teased, knowing full-well the answer.

 

“Yeah, man,” he said, a devilish smile on his face. “Guess that means you weren’t sleeping as soundly as you pretended to?” He touched the tip of the feather against my skin at my waist and began to slowly drag it up my exposed side.

 

“Well, initially yes, but your tickling woke me up!” I said defensively. “Fortunately, the feather’s touch is light enough that I can take the tickling without losing it and laughing out loud.”

 

“Kind of like this?” he said, as the feather slid through the hair lining my exposed armpit inflicting an annoying tickling sensation but not to a point of being unbearable. I was squirming and occasionally giggling lightly as he traced the feather up and around my torso but was able to maintain my composure otherwise. Although the light, sensual touches were also turning me on like crazy, and once again my dick was standing straight up. “It’s also the same feather YOU used to tickle MY feet!” he blurted out.

 

“Ah, man, you mean you were awake, too? I thought for sure you managed to remain asleep while I tickled your feet.”

 

“Nah, man, I’m pretty ticklish myself. Not nearly as ticklish as you, though,” he said with a laugh, the feather scraping through the soft hair covering my flat abs. “This is also the feather I used to tickle your cock this morning,” he added, a devilish smile on his face as he drug the feather through my pubic hair and began stroking it up my fully erect dick. “Were you also pretending to sleep when I was doing this to you this morning?”

 

“Maybe,” I said teasingly. He crossed over the sensitive tip of my dick with the feather, which made me giggle, and was now dragging it down the ticklish underneath side of my cock. He stroked it up and down, making me squirm. “Jesus” I said breathlessly, “That tickles like a mother but also turns me on big time! It was hard pretending to sleep this morning because it tickled so badly, but I didn’t want it to stop either.” We both laughed.

 

“Yeah, although I do remember that when I moved the feather down to your poor balls, you really lost it!” he said tauntingly as he moved feather down to my exposed and helpless balls. The sensations were unbearable. I was quickly discovering, much to my chagrin, my balls are perhaps the most ticklish spot on my body! He circled each ball slowly with the tip of the feather, tickling non-stop. Unlike this morning when I wasn’t tied up, I couldn’t pull them out of his reach now and just had to endure his torment.

 

“No!  Ahahahahahahahhahha!” I cried out, squirming as much as the restraints allowed but not enough to free my balls from his tickle assault. He had such an evil look on his face, delighting in how bad this was tormenting me. He grabbed a second feather from the nightstand and now had two feathers going simultaneously one on each ball, tickling my poor balls unmercifully for a full minute. I thrashed, yanked, laughed, yelled and eventually began to beg him to stop.  I’d never had anyone tickle my balls before and was shocked at how unbearably ticklish they are.

 

He finally stopped tickling my balls, moving both feathers to my rigid shaft. He had one feather against the underneath side my dick and one on the topside at the base and began simultaneously stroking them both up and down my helpless cock. It tickled but not as bad as my balls, so I was able to catch my breath and calm down. It was a freaky weird feeling to be feather jacked like this, but it was really, really turning me on, precum oozing from my slit.

 

“Oh my God…Fuck!” I cried out as I squirmed madly. “That really tickles!” I said giggling, “But I feel like I’m going to shoot if you keep doing that!”

 

He just laughed and kept the rhythmic stroking up and down my shaft. “Well, Dude, you did say you wanted me to edge you!” he said with a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying being fully in control and tormenting me like this. “I hate to break it to you but I’ve not found a guy yet who could shoot from feather-jacking alone.  I know it feels like you’re gonna’ but there’s just not enough pressure to actually send you over the edge.  Which means I can pretty much do this for an hour and keep you right on the edge without making you shoot!” 

 

He let out a loud, satisfied laugh as I continued squirming and thrusting my dick into the feathers dying to shoot.  But damn it, he was right.  It was true misery keeping me so turned on and close to shooting. “Fuck man!” I finally blurted out, growing frustrated. “Get me off!”  He just laughed, a deep masculine laughter bellowing from his massive chest.

 

“Oh, Hunter,” he said in a mocking tone. “Surely you don’t think I’m gonna’ let you shoot this early.” He dipped one feather back down to my balls and started tickling them again while stroking the other feather up and down my shaft. He had me squirming and laughing again in just a few seconds of ball torment. “Besides, man,” he finally continued. “I’ve just barely begun to explore your ticklish body.”

 

He dragged the feathers back up my torso, across my abs and up to my nips, using a feather on each of my nipples. The slow, methodical teasing of both of them was starting to drive me nuts, as I giggled and squirmed, instinctively yanking at the restraints holding my wrists securely above my head.

 

After a few minutes, he put the feathers on the nightstand and proceeded to climb up on the bed, straddling my waist with his legs, lowering his ass into position just above my crotch area. His body was pressing against me, holding me down on the bed, but he wasn’t putting enough weight on me for it to hurt.

 

The view was intoxicating, this muscular stud right in front of me, his body holding me firmly in place and giving me even less squirm ability, silky black hair cascading across his massive chest and down over his washboard abs flowing like waiter. There was that devilish smile again, my queue he was about to launch a tickling attack.

 

He’s so damned handsome that I was mesmerized even though I knew an unbearable tickle attack was imminent. I started shaking my head back and forth, in a futile attempt to convince him not to go for it.  He just smiled, dropped his hands to my abs and began lightly dancing his fingertips across my stomach. It tickled but his touches were light, so it wasn’t unbearable, just enough to make me giggle and squirm.

 

But soon he pressed his fingertips firmly into my skin, right below my abs in that spot where the hips and abs connect. I was surprised to discover how badly it tickled when he applied pressure there and I burst out with laughter along a yelp of surprise. He massaged that region for 30 seconds while I roared with laughter, yanked on the ropes and tried to squirm free, frustrated to discover he had me pinned so tightly that I couldn’t avoid any of his tickling attack.

 

After what felt like an eternity, he began moving his fingers up my sides, pressing firmly to knead every inch of my skin from my hips up to my ribs.  When his fingers reached my ribcage, he began firmly massaging between each rib bone. The tickling was excruciating, and I cried out, deep laughter pouring out of me as I yanked wildly on the restraints. I was so turned on and I could feel my dick bump and rub up against his ass as I squirmed.

 

He tortured my ribs for what had to be several minutes before sliding his fingertips toward my pits. I knew when he made contact in my ultra-ticklish pits it was going to prove unbearable. “Jason, no!” I cried out futilely. He just smiled and kept his trek up my sides with his dancing and massaging fingertips. As soon as they made contact in my wide, exposed pits I lost it even more, crying out and laughing uncontrollably.

 

His pit torment was absolutely unbearable. He’d fully extended his muscular torso in order to reach my pits while continuing to pin my hips to the bed, giving me a close-up view of his muscular, hairy chest and abs. His pits were also fully exposed as he aggressively tickled my pits and triceps. It was weirdly hot to see him this close up and see his pits exposed like that. I kept thinking how badly I wanted to reach up and tickle his pits, but the damned restraints holding my wrists above my head made it nothing more than a fantasy.

 

It was also clear he was getting turned on from his torture of me, and that pushed him to keep up his non-stop pit tickle torture for what seemed an eternity. Eventually, it got to be more than I could handle, and I began to beg for mercy. I had to have a break!  But he just flashed that evil smile and kept up his torture, no doubt satisfied he’d brought me to the point of begging. His tickle attack was so unbearable that I was reaching a point where I wasn’t sure I could actually take anymore. My begging became more desperate and frantic.

 

“Uncle! Uncle! Unnnnncle!” I cried out. “Jason, pleeeeeeze!” Still, he just smiled with satisfaction and continued tickling me for another minute or two before he finally gave me a break and climbed off my sweat soaked body.

 

I was gasping desperately for air, trying to regain my composure. I found myself a little pissed. I never had anybody push me so close to my limits like that. In fact, I was trying to figure out if maybe he pushed me past my limit. Not that it mattered, since I couldn’t really do anything about it anyway. And just realizing how vulnerable and helpless I was right now, I found my dick getting hard again!

 

I think he realized he had pushed me pretty far and grabbed the water bottle to allow me to hydrate. He lifted it to my lips so that I could take a few big swigs of water. “You doing okay, man?” he asked softly. It was the first moment of humanity he had showed me for a while. I shook my head yes, still trying to calm myself down and catch my breath. “Good, “he said, that devilish smile on his face. “Because I’m just getting started!”

 

“Jesus, Jason!” I finally managed to blurt out. “That was just wrong, man.”

 

“Dude, seriously?” he answered with a chuckle. “Didn’t think you were that much a wimp.” I was about to get pissed but then noticed the mischievous smile on his face. He was taunting me. I couldn’t back down at this point.

 

“Yeah?” I said. “Trust me, man, I can take whatever you dish out. You just have to make sure I can breathe, man. I’m not superhuman!” I added with a laugh.

 

He laughed and moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing a bottle of baby oil from the nightstand on his way. He poured some of the baby oil in his hand and began slathering it across my barefoot. After he had spread it across my sole, he used his fingertips to massage it in. The tickling was unbearable, even worse than when he tickled my feet before. I could feel his nails grazing effortlessly across my super sensitive skin lubricated by the oil. I knew the next few minutes we’re going to be really unbearable!

 

He repeated the oiling on my other sole, using his fingernails to spread it evenly while I giggled and squirmed. There was that wickedly devilish smile on his face as he prepared his attack. I shook my head back and forth, flashing him as pitiful of a look as I could muster, hoping he would take it easy but knowing full well he wouldn’t. I glanced down to see my dick standing at full attention once again, revealing how I really felt about his tickle torture.

 

He used both hands at once, his dancing fingertips making contact with my lubricated, helpless bare feet. Tickling sensations overwhelmed my body. I roared with laughter as he settled in for a five-minute, non-stop torment of my poor soles. No amount of begging or pleading dissuaded him from continuing his tickle attack on my sensitive feet. I couldn’t help noticing the bulging of his briefs, his dick hard and pressing against the fabric, a wet spot showing from his precum.

 

He gave me a a chance to breathe, returning to the bedside table where he picked up the water bottle and gave me another drink. He then picked up some additional tools from the table and returned to the foot of the bed. I knew what was coming next would even be worse than the tickling of his fingers.

 

First up was a stiff-bristled brush, it’s sharp tentacles making contact with my sensitive soles, gilding effortlessly up and down my lubricated skin. “Ahhh, shiiiieeeeeet!” I cried out in desperation, as the unbearable tickling sensations overwhelmed my senses. It took less than a minute of his aggressive brush attack to make me beg and plead for mercy. Although I knew he would show me none.

 

He finally gave me a break after about five minutes of torture to have another drink of water. Returning to the foot of the bed, he picked up another device, flipped a switch and I could hear a whirring noise. I barely caught sight of the electric toothbrush before it’s pulsating bristles made contact with my sole.

 

I was shocked at how badly those bristles—spinning at 3,000 RPM—tickled. It felt like electricity applied directly to my tender soles. I cried out with laughter, which quickly devolved into pleading. The devilish smile on his face told me he had no intention of stopping. In fact, he picked up a second electric toothbrush and begin to use it on my other bare foot.  The sensation of two spinning toothbrushes was pure torture. I cried out, laughed, screamed, bagged, and yet nothing stopped him from his torment.

 

I think the worst sensations were when he would use the spinning toothbrush bristles along the top ridge underneath my toes and then slide the bristles between my toes. I always knew I was ticklish between my toes, but this took it to a whole ‘nother level of unbearable torture. I eventually lost track of time.

 

At some point, he decided to slowly slide the brushes up my legs. That was not nearly so bad, and it gave me time to catch my breath. That was until he slid the brushes underneath the backs of my legs right behind the knee. I burst out with laughter and tried to press my legs onto the bed to block his moves. He simply continued the bristles moving up my thighs, which also proved to be quite ticklish, and then continued the trek toward my crotch. I began to panic realizing that he would no doubt use those instruments of torture on my unbearably sensitive balls and cock.

 

“No, Jason!” I cried out futilely.  “Not my baa..ahahahhahahahaaaa!” He didn’t even let me finish the word before he touched the spinning bristles against my uber sensitive sac. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as desperate as I did at this point. Feathers on my balls are enough to make me beg. Brushes spinning at high speed is another story. I was literally screaming at the top of my lungs.

 

I think he knew better than to spend too long using the brushes on my balls. Instead, he slid them up my dick. One on the sensitive underneath side, one on the top side. Once again, the tickling sensations were nothing short of unbearable. I laughed, yelled, begged, and squirm as hard as I could. And then it stopped. As I worked to catch my breath, I saw him move to grab the oil and returned to my crotch. He took a handful of oil and began stroking my dick getting it hard and oozing pre-cum.

 

I was relieved, hoping he was finally going to give me that happy ending he promised. That was until I felt him grasp my shaft with one hand, turn on the electric toothbrush with his other hand and began applying the torturous spinning bristles to the head of my cock!

 

“No mother fucker!” I cried out, yanking wildly on the ropes tying me down. “Ayeaahaaaaaaa!” was all I could manage, the bristles tormenting my sensitive cockhead. He moved the brushes all around it, occasionally along the underneath side of the ridge. It didn’t hurt, thanks to the lubrication of the oil, it just tickled like hell!   It was the most intense combination of unbearable tickling sensations mixed with highly charged erotic teasing of my swollen cock head I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh, scream, cry or all the above. I felt like I was close to shooting but there wasn’t the right kind of pressure to make that happen.

 

He probably kept it on for a minute or two, although it felt like an eternity of hell and heaven together. When he finally stopped, my voice was hoarse and I was dripping with sweat, trying desperately to catch my breath. After a moment, I heard him squeeze out more of the oil into his palm, and he began stroking my dick again. This time he continued stroking and stroking, getting me closer to a point of no return. He will occasionally touch the spinning toothbrush bristles against my balls, causing me to thrash, laugh and cry out.

 

It was the craziest mix erotic easy and tickle torment I’ve ever experienced. The more he stroked, though, the closer I approached a point of no return.  I could feel my jism welling up inside of me ready to explode, especially with each stroke of his hand over my sensitized cockhead.

 

“I’m gonna’ shoot!” I cried out, both as a warning that if he didn’t stop, I would lose it, and as a cry of excitement as I wanted more and more to explode with satisfaction.

 

“Oh yeah?” he said rather sarcastically, continuing to stroke my dick and across my cockhead with each stroke upward.

 

“Yeah…” I uttered between frantic breaths, in part trying to hold back and yet realizing I wouldn’t be able to for much longer. I found myself thrusting my pelvis into his hand to hasten release.

 

“Ah, then I’d better stop,” he responded with a slightly evil laugh, withdrawing his hand from my dick, grabbing a hand towel from the nightstand and wiping his hands down.

 

“What…no….wait!” I cried out, continuing to thrust my pelvis into the air in futile desperation. “C’mon, Jace!” I pleaded. “That’s not fair!  You gotta’ get me off.”

 

“Uh, who said this set up had anything to do with being fair?” he quipped. “You seem to forget that you are tied up and at my mercy. And I’m not ready for the fun to end.”

 

“Noooo, you mother fucker!” I cried out in frustration as I could feel my dick starting to retreat in surrender. He grabbed the bottle of water, bringing it to my lips. I gulped down the water voraciously, my throat dried out from screaming.

 

“I…I don’t know if I can take much more,” I finally managed to udder. I felt defeated. But given this was my first time allowing a dude into inflicting tickle torture to tie me up, he’d really pushed my limits.  And possibly beyond.

 

“You sure?” he said teasingly, a mischievous smile on his face. “These exposed pits look like they could maybe take a little more to me,” he added as he began dancing his fingers in my armpit.

 

“No!” I cried out as I dissolved into laughter, bracing myself for another assault on my sensitive torso.  He eventually moved back to my feet and tickled them unmercifully while I thrashed, laughed and pleaded for mercy. I think he probably tickled me for another thirty unbearable minutes.

 

He worked his way back up to my torso while I looked at him pleadingly. Hee only tickled my pits for about a minute and more teasingly than intensely. He squeezed more oil into his palm, sat by my torso facing me and began to apply the oil to my half-mast dick. It was standing at attention after just a few strokes, and he proceeded to stroke up and down my shaft making me rock hard and oozing precum.

 

“You know,” he said softly as he expertly worked my dick, bringing me closer to shooting. Tickling you reminds me of my times tickling my little brother.”

 

“Yeah?” I asked. “How so?”

 

“Well, he was really, really ticklish like you. And he had great reactions like you, although admittedly your voice is much deeper, more masculine than his since you’re also half a decade older than he was when I would tickle him. I find that kind of hot, actually.”

 

“Jesus, to be honest, I didn’t think I sounded all that manly as I screamed like a girl and begged for mercy!” We both laughed. “Did you get him off too?”

 

“Nah, man, nothing like that,” he answered. “It was harmless brother stuff.  But as I got older, in college, I started to mix this into the scenes. Just another way to control a dude.” The more he rubbed, especially with his hand sliding over my swollen head, the closer I was coming to shooting.

 

“You’ve hooked up with some really hot, ticklish studs over the year?” I asked, our conversation becoming more erotic, pushing me closer to shooting.

 

“A few,” he answered matter of factly.  “Although if I’m being honest, you may be the hottest dude I’ve ever had the pleasure of tying and tickle torturing,” he said with a laugh.

 

“Wow, I’m flattered!” I said with a laugh.  My breathing was becoming more labored as I could feel myself nearing climax and was also a bit turned on that he was turned on by me. No guy had ever told me I was hot before. “I will say that you are hands down THE hottest guy I’ve let tickle me!  But then again, you’re really the first guy who’s tied me up and seriously tickled me,” I said with a laugh.

 

“Hmmm…that doesn’t sound like a compliment,” he said with a laugh, speeding up his stroking in mock retaliation.

 

“No, no it is!” I said quickly. “Seriously, dude, I don’t think I’ve seen a hotter guy even in a porn magazine than you.”  He smiled, clearly flattered. “And I gotta’ warn you,  I’m close to shooting.”  After I let that slip, I worried I shouldn’t have told him in case he decides to stop and tickle me again.  But he just smiled and kept up the stroking, bring me closer and closer.” “Shit, I’m getting REALLY close!” I eked out between heavy breaths.

 

“Yeah, you want me to take you all the way?” he asked teasingly. I shook my head frantically. “You sure?”  Again, I shook my head and steeled myself as I felt my seed welling up in my dick and about to release. “I should probably warn you, though, that most guys are even more ticklish after they shoot. And I’m not going to untie you immediately, nor does your shooting mean the tickling is over. You sure you want to shoot?”

 

That evil side coming out of him at that moment was all it took to make me lose control, my jism roaring out of my cock and shooting a few feet into the air.  He continued his slow, rhythmic stroking of my dick, coaxing every last drop of cum out of me. My head was spinning, the mix of intense emotions and sensations overwhelming me. But then I realized after a moment that there was nothing more coming out of me, but he wasn’t stopping his stroking. If fact, every time he slid his oil- and cum-soaked fingertips over the head of my cock, the sensation was quickly becoming unbearable.

 

“Okay, dude, I’m out!” I cried out, making sure he realized I had nothing more to give.

 

“Oh, I know,” he said with a laugh. “You ever have your cockhead played with after you shoot?”  I shook my head no. “Oh, yeah, then, this is going to get a little unbearable I’m afraid. Especially if I polish your apple right about now.” He had the most evil, devilish smile on his face. I’d not experienced it but had read somewhere that polishing a dude’s apple, especially after he’s cum, is a form or unbearable torture.

 

“Jason, I don’t think I can take it!” I protested..

 

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out!” he said with a laugh, as he squeezed another glob of oil into his right palm, grabbed my still mostly-stiff-shaft with this left and began rubbing his palm all over and around my cockhead, which I now realized was far more sensitive than before I came. 

 

“Nooooo!” I cried out, the unbearable mix of tickling and erotic teasing and pain mixing. He had me begging for mercy, promising anything if he would just stop tormenting me within a minute of his unbearable torture of my dickhead. I’d never felt anything as intense and really was frantic, afraid I’d die.  “Pleeeeeease don’t!” I cried out, my voice raising quickly as he slowly, methodically polished my sensitive cockhead.

 

I begged and thrashed and pleaded and screamed and he just had that devilishly evil smile on his face and kept his palm gliding around my head. I was getting more and more frantic afraid I would….well, honestly, I had no idea what I would do since I was helpless to make him stop and had never experienced torture as intense as this.

 

Finally, he stopped, and I struggled to catch my breath. When I’d finally calmed down enough to speak, all I could manage to eke out was, “Fuuuuck!” It took another minute of repeating that and working to calm myself before I could say more. “That was fucking evil, dude!” I finally managed to get out, actually feeling a little pissed that he’d pushed me so far beyond my limits of tolerance.

 

“Yeah, man, I know it’s bad,” he said in a soft voice. “But hey, you said were curious so I had to at least let you experience it once.”

 

“Shit, for a minute, maybe!” I fired back. “Buc that was like a fucking eternity man!” He started laughing at my getting so wound up and I found myself laughing after a moment realizing I was being a bit of a baby.  After all, I knew what I was getting myself into.

 

“So I think we should figure out if you’re more ticklish after you shoot!” he announced unexpectedly, moving to my torso and extending his wiggling fingers toward my exposed rib cage.

 

“Noooo!” I cried out until I burst into laughter as he started kneading both rib cages and working his way up to my pits. I really lost it when he started dancing his fingers in my exposed, deep hollow pits. It was more ticklish, which I could hardly believe since my pits were already unbearably ticklish.  He proceeded to tickle my torso, work his way down to my poor feet and tormented my soles for several minutes while I once again thrashed and begged for mercy. I couldn’t believe the rumor was true, that you’re more ticklish after you cum.

 

“Alright, Dude,” he finally said. “I think you’ve earned a break.” He started unfastening my ankle restraints.

 

“A break?!” I asked, incredulous if he thought I could take any more. “And by break, I hope you mean at least a day!” I said with a laugh.  He laughed with me.

 

“We’ll see.” The devilish smile on his face was both turning me on and scaring me. It took me a few minutes after he’d untied me to get my muscles working again. He laid on the bed beside me, his fingers stroking through my chest hair and across my abs, occasionally hitting a ticklish spot and making me gasp.  He wasn’t really trying to tickle me intensely, but it was more teasing and erotic.

 

My mind was still racing though, a little incredulous at what transpired over the last two hours. Part of me was a little pissed because he’d pushed me clearly past my limits.  I continually repeated “Holy shit!” and similar exclamations as I caught my breath, worked my muscles and was ready to stand up. I finally got up and headed to the bathroom, both to take a piss and shower.  I’d sweated pretty heavily during the session plus had the stickiness of my jism on me.

 

I found myself shaking my head, in part thinking perhaps all of these years I’d fantasized over a scene like this, I was kidding myself.  That was just too unbearable and intense. But somehow, the more I thought about it and recalled some of the more unbearable moments of the session, the harder my dick grew. 

 

Soon I found myself using the shower soap to stroke my dick.  “Damn, that was fucking hot!” I finally found myself thinking, this hot, masculine, muscular, hairy-chested dude working me over like I’d never experienced. I finished up, threw a towel around my waist and returned to the bedroom, where I found Jason sound asleep, his arms tucked behind his head.

 

Now emboldened by our session, I grabbed the feather and began stroking it up his exposed side, up to his pit and through the hair lining his deep hollow.  I continued stroking it up and down his side, determined to wake him. He squirmed and murmured in his sleep. Then I noticed the bulge in his boxer briefs growing. I realized he was probably pretending to sleep just to frustrate me. 

 

So I dropped the feather went in for the kill, attacking both of his rib cages with my fingertips. He immediately came to life and started curling up his body to try to get away from me, laughing hard. I kept up the attack and chasing him around the bed as he squirmed and laughed at our playful session.

 

He finally turned around, grabbed me as I was kneeling on the bed and leaning over to tickle him, and launched a tickling attack on my ribs.  Soon we were having a tickling wrestling match, which I quickly realized I was losing.

 

“Okay, truce!” I finally called out and managed to squirm free.  We both had major bulges in our underwear with wet spots. “So, Dude, do I get to tie you up now and get revenge?”  He just smiled at me.

 

“Uh, no, bud,” he said matter of factly. “But I’m happy to go for a second round on you.”

 

“Shit, man, I think I’m out of gas tonight to take any more,” I said, realizing how exhausted I was. “Let’s hit the hay, and I’ll endure another session tomorrow.”  He smiled his handsome, devilish smile. I couldn’t wait to see what was in store for me tomorrow. I smiled, thinking this would be the most unbearably fun summer of my life.