#malefootstories

[boytickler35]

Abed watches, engrossed as Kickpuncher punches another villain with the force of a kick, sending him off the catwalk and presumably to his doom on the factory conveyor belts below. The next of Punchkickers goons lines up and-

Troy’s ice cold foot presses up against his belly. He pushes it away.

Kickpuncher duels an enhanced baddy- the purpose is to show Kickpuncher can be challenged in combat, therefore building suspense that Kickpuncher might not make it through-

Abed jolts again as the cold foot once again finds his belly and he shoves it away again.

Kickpuncher exchanges a few brief words with Punchkicker. The dialogue is clunky but establishes Kickpuncher’s growing awareness of his own humanity despite denying it in the last movie. This will lead him down the path-

The cold foot is once again there and Abed glances over at Troy who shows no signs of being aware of what he is doing, totally engrossed in the movie as he is. Abed decides to get Troy’s attention this time, and runs a finger up the socked sole causing Troy to let out a squeal before shooting him a dirty look.

“Abed!”

“Troy.”

“What the hell?”

“You’ve been putting your cold foot on me over and over.”

“So you tickled me?”

He sounds incredulous and Abed replies plainly, “I did.”

“Well-”

Abed probably should have known something would come of provoking Troy but he doesn’t expect the other man to grab both of his feet and run his fingers over them.

Nor does he expect to throw his head back and start laughing at how much it tickles! He doesn’t think anyone has ever touched his feet before, he had no way of knowing he was this ticklish. He doesn’t let that stop him though, and is able to snag Troy’s feet and rip the socks off before tickling Troy’s now bare, and still cold, feet.

“Hey don’t take those socks- Fine!”

Abed feels his being pulled off but he has Troy’s feet in a headlock, and he’s always liked the sound of Troy’s laughter, so even though Troy is now tickling him, he’s enjoying giving as good as he is getting, even as his socks finally come off.

It continues for a bit longer before Troy finally yells, “Time.”

He turns to face Troy, who is panting like he is.

“If we are going to do this- we’re going to do it right.”

“I was unaware there was a right way to do this.” Abed isn’t really sure he knows what ‘this’ even is beyond a tickle fight Troy started by being unable to keep his feet to himself.

“No, there is. First we need rules, a point system, a way to determine the winner-”

This sounds involved. Abed checks the clock.

“I have until seven tomorrow morning.”

Troy nods and says, “We can make that work.”

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Troy looks over the list of rules, his feet now slightly sweaty from being pressed against the radiator for the past fifteen minutes.

“So, we agree that the first to get the other to call ‘uncle’ is the winner.”

“Even though it is very cliche and this is probably the first time it has ever been done outside of TV.”

“Right. We agree that the winner gets one request, within reason, from the loser.”

“Something to make sure this stays interesting.”

“Agreed. We agree prior to starting that we make sure our bodies are as ticklish as possible- I still hate this one.”

“Your feet were too cold. It shows poor circulation. Warmer parts of the body are more sensitive and will make this more interesting.”

It sort of bothers Troy about the robotic way Abed assess his feet and how ticklish they are or aren’t and then makes a move to correct them. “Yea but it seems to benefit you!”

“You still agreed to do it. And now it’s too late to go back.”

Troy also kind of hates that he agreed so easily, he might as well have been downright eager, but there isn’t anything he can do about that now. “Anything is fair game below the knees and above the waist unless agreed otherwise.”

“Keeps options open.” Abed comments neutrally and Troy gives a nod.

“And that’s it. Are we agreed on all the rules then?”

Abed nods and to sign the deal, they do their handshake. Troy puts the notebook back before saying, “I think my feet are warm enough. If you’re ready-”

He’s suddenly pinned on his back, Abed sitting on top of him, long, slender fingers poking and prodding away at his ribs which has him squealing and squirming from side to side in a frantic attempt to escape, but as he goes left to escape some fingers, there are others waiting for him to bump right into, and when he goes right to escape those, he runs right back into the original pair he was trying to get away from.

“ChEHehEAteR!”

“Not really. We didn’t agree to anything else in the rules.”

Troy is stuck for several minutes squirming back and forth before he finally manages to flip Abed off of him and now sits on him. He really needs a minute but he knows Abed won’t give him that minute so he digs his fingers into his buddy’s armpits earning deep laughter from Abed.

Troy likes it. Abed doesn’t laugh, and Troy thinks it’s a shame cause he could listen to it all day. He’s so engrossed in the laughter that he ends up getting thrown off by Abed pretty easily. They grapple for a bit, getting random pokes and prods in. It turns out that his belly is really bad but Abed’s armpits are equally problematic.

Troy eventually manages to get on top of Abed again and can’t stop himself from fluttering his fingers lightly around Abed’s neck which produces the most adorable set of giggles he thinks he’s ever heard.

“You should laugh more,” he blurts out before thinking about what he is saying. In his embarrassment after that, he pauses a mistake because Abed doesn’t hesitate to capitalize on this.

“You too,” his friend replies and once again, he is flipped under the taller man who shows a total lack of mercy, poking and prodding at Troy’s muscled belly, muscles which aren’t helping him at the moment.

“Your laughter is very boyish, like school boy boyish,” Abed comments absently as he works Troy over. Something about the comment is both embarrassing because he’s a man now, but also flattering because Abed meant it to be a compliment and he likes to store up Abed’s compliments for days when he’s feeling low.

Still, as the nimble fingers continue to drill into his tight belly, he knows he needs to get out of this before he totally loses his mind, which feels like it might happen any time.

It’s only when Abed pokes into his belly button that Troy manages, through sheer ticklish induced strength, to burst free. Bucking Abed off of him stuns the other man long enough for Troy to jump on him- in a very manly, totally straight way- to take his revenge.

It’s strange, he’s never tickled anyone before, but right now, it feels like he might as well have been doing it his whole life. He just knows what to do- and it’s kind of awesome. That’s how things are with Abed though, the right thing to do just sort of comes and it makes his friendship with Abed easily the most low pressure one he’s ever had.

At some point he ends up under Abed again who leans down to blow hard on his belly.

He’s torn at laughing because it tickles so much, and because it sounds like a really wet fart, but when Abed pauses for a moment to breathe, Troy can’t stop himself from asking, “What was that?”

Abed frowns and then says, “I have no idea, I saw a boyfriend do it to his girlfriend once at a party.”

“Oh, I thought maybe it was something your dad did to you.”

Abed shakes his head. “No. My dad never did anything like this.”

Troy frowns and then says, “Yea, mine neither. If he saw me now he’d be super disappointed.”

Abed hums and then says, “Well he can’t see you right now.”

A wave of relief washes over him but before he can figure out how to properly thank Abed for getting rid of any shame that thought carried, his friend continues.

“And do you know what?”

“No, what?”

“I think it’s time we get back into it.”

Troy’s brain only catches up with what that means too late as Abed digs into his sides again and he is once again howling and thrashing around but even though Abed looks tall and lanky, he’s surprisingly strong and hard to throw off. It doesn’t stop Troy from trying as he squirms more and more but it isn’t until Abed goes to shift that he seizes his chance and is able to buck him off.

What follows is a mad scramble where they both end up poking and prodding anywhere they can find trying to distract the other long enough to get the upper hand. He feels several sharp tickles on his sides, armpits, and Abed even brushes a hand against his thighs which almost causes Troy to space out long enough to get pinned. He didn’t know they were ticklish, but apparently, all that muscle doesn’t help much against tickling.

At one point, Abed pulls out of reach and asks, “You’re still good with this?”

Troy frowns. “Yea.”

“Okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool.”

“Why'd you ask?”

“Well you’ve been shouting ‘stop’ and ‘cut that out’ so figured I should ask.”

Troy blinks, wide eyed for a moment. He didn’t remember saying any of that.

“Anyway, if you’re good-”

Abed leaves the sentence hanging, and lunges at Troy, who falls for it like he always does. It doesn’t take long for the taller man to wind up on top of him and he’s once again pinned as Abed’s skillful fingers find a new point of interest, Troy’s nipples.

Apparently, they are stupid ticklish, and unfortunately, he now understands why Jeff likes nipple play and he really wants Abed to stop but the nails continue to swirl teasingly around his nipples so lightly, he can barely feel it and that’s the most infuriatingly ticklish part about it, because he can’t do anything but laugh!

Troy realizes he needs to do something or he is going to lose and Abed’s foot is just barely in arm’s reach. He makes his gamble and lunges at it.

As his grip closes around the ankle, he lets out a crow of triumph. Abed's feet seemed a lot more ticklish than his upper body when they were on the couch, maybe he can get his buddy to give up by tickling him here.

He digs in, surprised that he kind of likes it? Abed’s soles are smooth to the touch and not gross sweaty, but slick enough that his dull fingernails slide across them with no resistance and Abed again produces a wonderful laughter, this one honest to goodness uncontrolled and it’s more musical than anything Troy has ever heard before and he loves it.

Somehow it comes naturally to him too. Abed’s feet are massive, way bigger than his and super soft, he remembers Abed almost always wears socks or slippers in the apartment so he guesses that makes sense, and also tracks with how soft his feet are since he does the same.

He just knows though, where to poke, where to scratch, where he can do the most tickling without hurting Abed and it’s amazing. At one point, he gets bold enough to say, “Coochi-coo!”

Abed shouts something incoherent in reply but Troy doesn't pay any attention to it as he continues exploring. Abed’s toes are long and kind of pretty somehow. He doesn’t know what it is about them, but he’s sure they’ll be fun to tickle and doesn’t think twice about wiggling his fingers between the squirmy digits and flossing the space between with his fingers.Abed seems to melt and Troy likes not only being in charge, but being able to make Abed laugh.

Unfortunately, he makes the mistake of not paying enough attention to his own feet and suddenly lets out a shriek and is suddenly thrown off and before he knows it, his feet are in Abed’s arms in a headlock and all he can do is watch in exhilarated terror as Abed’s nails start tracing up and down while he’s helpless to do anything other than watch.

The sensation is indescribable. He’s never really been tickled before this and on his upper body it was like his body would move without him thinking to escape the tickling, not it’s the same except he is watching Abed’s every move but is too damn ticklish to fight back effectively and all he can do is watch his own feet get tickled madly.

Everything he did to Abed’s feet, Abed does back to him, but with his being much smaller, he knows it has to tickle him more. All his nerves must be bunched up more so his feet have to be more ticklish! And it really sucks right now because Abed is easily dominating his feet with just one hand, using the other to control them and Troy is too tired from all the rolling around earlier to make much an effort and Abed is sitting cross legged, his own feet well protected against anything Troy might even think of doing.

He holds out for a while though, as Abed investigates each of his toes, pads, between, and underneath. Pokes, scratches, flossing, he even puffs a few breaths of cool air on them and lets it slide effortlessly between them.

Abed doesn’t contain himself to just Troy’s toes though, he takes a full tour of the ticklish feet, with Abed like meticulousness no matter how silly this all is. He works the heels with nails, pokes at the silky arches, and half massages, half tickles the balls of the feet until Troy’s world becomes limited to tickling and nothing else.

“UnHAHCLE!” He bellows, unable to take it anymore and like clockwork, his feet are released and he’s able to roll away from Abed in the least dignified way possible, panting against the couch as he has to catch his breath.

“I win,” Abed announces calmly, and needlessly.

Troy feels his face heat up as he says, “Yea, I guess you do.”

Abed stands up and goes to find his socks, pulling them over his feet before observing, “We made a mess.”

Troy glances around and it’s sort of true, they pushed things out of the way to make room and there are now stray articles of clothes that he doesn’t even remember taking off or having taken off. He half expects Abed to start putting things back together, but all his friend does is reach up to the top bunk and take the TV down and plug it back in.

“Doommaster Defeats the Forces of Good marathon?”

Troy puffs out a breath and nods, pulling his shirt back on and remembering that he technically owes Abed something and hoping that somehow- incredibly, his meticulous friend has forgotten. Sitting back down, he props his feet up on the coffee table that never holds coffee, still bare because he can’t be bothered to find his socks and doesn’t trust them not to tickle a bit since his feet still feel tingly.

He can’t stop himself from looking at them, and sometimes at Abed’s socked feet. He kind of hates to admit it, but the whole rolling around on the floor thing was fun. He’s an only child, growing up was kind of lonely sometimes. He had friends, but none like Abed… and his parents didn’t really tickle him either- it was new and he didn’t totally hate it even though he kind of hated it at the same time.

They get about ten minutes in before Abed speaks up, but keeps his eyes fixed on the TV, breaking the silence between them as he asks, “Did you have fun?”

Troy starts and then bluffs, “Fun? With that- no way! How could you think I did?”

“You keep looking at our feet, and didn’t even notice that I continued Kickpuncher.”

Troy does a double take at the screen before realizing that this is in fact the same movie they were watching before and is about to end.

“I- didn’t hate it. But I didn’t like it either!”

Abed hums, still watching the TV.

“I’m serious!”

He isn’t sure what he is serious about- both probably but he sort of wants Abed to assume it’s about not liking it, but also sort of hopes Abed knows he means not hating it so he doesn’t have to say it.

They lapse into silence for a bit longer, his eyes still mostly studying his and Abed’s feet before Abed speaks up again and says, “Hey Troy?”

“Yea?”

“I know what I want- for winning.”

Troy holds his breath as Abed continues.

“I want to do this again sometime.”

He exhales slowly, relieved that somehow, Abed knew what he wanted but didn’t know what to say. And also thankful that he can comfortably slip into the role of macho man without Abed calling his bluff as he replies, “You’re on. I’m not losing round two!”

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At study group on Monday, they are chatting about their weekends when Annie asks, “So how did the movie marathon go?”

Abed looks at Troy who predictably looks shocked at being asked. The group watches them with varying levels of concern and confusion before Abed says, “We didn’t do it.”

Shirley frowns and starts reaching across the table to put her hand on Troy’s forehead as she asks, “Are you sick? Are you still sick?”

Troy bats the hand away and says, “We got busy with something else.”

Abed knows that wasn’t the right thing to say, and it was the wrong tone to say it in. Troy sounded guilty about it which was sure to get the nosier members curious and sure enough Pierce demands, “Got busy doing what? I didn’t think anything stopped your movie nonsense.”

Troy stalls so Abed says, “We had a tickle fight.”

Troy looks at him in horror but Abed doesn’t really care.

Britta is the first to recover as she says, “And you filmed it for money?”

Abed frowns and looks at Troy who looks equally confused while a chorus of ‘ews’ arise from the table.

Britta defends herself. “I’m just saying that they are somewhat conventionally attractive men and people would pay money for a video of them doing that kind of thing.”

Deciding to end whatever conversation is going on Abed says, “I don’t think a tickling based movie exists. Actually, statistically speaking, many movies will avoid the topic of tickling because the hands on nature of it may make some people uncomfortable.”

“So you just… did it for fun?” Annie asks, obviously confused.

Troy shrugs and replies, “Yea.”

“Gay.” Pierce mutters.

“Alright with this- fascinating distraction out of the way, can we please get to work on not failing Spanish?” Jeff cuts in which ends up ending the conversation and refocusing everyone on what they need to do.

[boytickler35]

Freddy grinds his teeth as Nevel smugly explains his current plot to shut them down and Freddy hates to admit it, but this time it’s air-tight. He actually owns the iCarly web page and there isn’t much any of them can do about it.

Carly and Sam stand with him facing Nevel. He can feel Sam fuming and he is worried she is going to commit a felony, which isn’t new. Carly just seems distressed and he feels sort of numb. They’ve been fighting Nevel off for years and now it all ends like this?

“I will give it back on one condition.”

“I’m not kissing you,” Carly says immediately and Freddy nods along because she shouldn’t have to.

“I don’t want a kiss from you, Carly Shay. You didn’t want one from me all the times I offered it to you and now you will rue the day!”

Carly looks a little startled and honestly, he is too. Nevel has been trying to kiss her for almost as long as he has been messing with them and now that he has the perfect can’t-be-refused opportunity, he turns it down? That is next level spite.

“So what do you want then?” His voice wavers a bit as he asks it and when Nevel’s eyes fall on him, he squirms a little.

The other boy crosses the small distance between them and brushes up against him as he announces, “I want you, Freddy Benson.”

His brain short circuits because gross, Nevel, and also why?

“Deal.”

Sam takes less than thirty seconds to decide as much, and his jaw drops. He looks at Carly, both in shock and for help but she shifts uncomfortably and asks, “For how long?”

“Carly!”

“Two hours. Less time than we spent together the first time we met.” Nevel’s voice is slick and persuasive, and it’s obviously working.

Carly looks at him helplessly and he feels sick to his stomach as she says, “It isn’t that long, Freddy. I had to deal with him on the shame date for longer.”

Nevel interjects and pushes, “Do I have a deal then?”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

All three people in the room reply with a resounding, ‘no’, in unison.

“Wait-” he says, but the girls are already out the door, which Nevel closes behind them and looks at Freddy who feels empty- there’s a feeling of betrayal that he isn’t sure he knows how to deal with, combined with a dread of being left with Nevel.

“You still lose. iCarly will continue.”

It’s the only thing he can think to say because honestly, he’s confused. Nevel had them, and he gave it up?

The other boy ignores the statement, or maybe starts explaining in a roundabout way.

“I am going to start my own show, iNevel.”

Freddy rolls his eyes. “And you need a tech person.”

“No.”

Freddy blinks. “No?”

“No.” Nevel clarifies. “I need a partner.”

With a delicate finger beckoning, Nevel begins leading him down into the basement.

Freddy hates basements. He hates the one at the apartment, he hates all the ones he has been locked in over the years, he has no reason to suspect he will like this one.

Downstairs is a simple studio, it has none of the bells and whistles that the iCarly studio has. A simple camera, and a stage against an odd brick wall. It’s odd because it’s just there… The wall is in the middle of the room, so it isn’t load bearing. It seems like it was just created for a backdrop. On the wall is a mount of some kind. It looks a bit like a trophy plaque. It’s made of wood, but has nothing on it except three holes arranged in a triangle.

Nevel motions for him to follow around to the back side where there is a seat set very far forward and the three holes.

“Sit.” Nevel commands and Freddy frowns but does. Nevel moves back to the other side of the wall and then the holes get bigger.

“Put your head and feet in.”

Freddy grumbles but he does, a moment later sitting uncomfortably with his head and feet sticking out. He doesn’t think he has ever seen his feet this up-close before. Nevel shifts something and Freddy realizes the plaque opened somehow and is now closed around him.

There is a camera now pointed at them, the light flashing to indicate it is recording.

“Welcome to the first iNevel broadcast where today we have Freddy Benson, the tech wiz of the iCarly channel. Like many of you, I too watch the weekly live streams, and I too have had my fair looks at the feet of the most famous tech nerd in Seattle and like many of you, I also fell in love.”

Freddy’s brain freezes up because what?

“And even though I have them all to myself, I thought it would be better to share them with all of you.”

He notices a monitor set up where he can see the comments section of the stream which is blowing up. They… really like his feet. He feels his toes curl at comments about licking them and worshiping them, but tickling comes up the most often and that makes him cringe.

“So today, we are going to tickle these feet all stream. You post in chat what you want to see, and Freddy will get to pick what happens to his pretty feet.

“This is so messed up,” Freddy groans as the comments continue to fly.

It doesn’t matter what he says though, because it changes nothing.

“Alright Freddy Benson, pick. My fingers on your handsome feet for three minutes, or this brush for one minute?”

Nevel holds up a plastic brush. It’s intimidating, but Freddy growls. Nevel may have him here but he doesn’t have to play along. He isn’t about to make this easy for the punk.

Unfortunately, Nevel seems to have anticipated that and when it becomes clear he isn’t going to get an answer, Nevel’s fingers lay into his feet with no warning. The fingernails aren’t sharp, not like Sam’s when she scratches him, but sharp enough to light up every nerve in his foot as they pass over it, driving Freddy wild.

It feels like it takes forever for the tickling to stop but as soon as it does, Freddy feels the brush make contact and like lightning, starts thrashing and squirming. He tries to kick but the stocks that hold him prevent any movement of his feet other than flicking his soles up and down at the ankles which he does in a desperate but ultimately futile attempt to protect his poor feet from their tickling.

When it stops, he’s gasping for breath as Nevel asks, “Do you want your soles tickled by my fingers for three minutes, or your toes for one?”

“Soles-” Freddy gasps out, not even really thinking about the fact that he is consenting to the tickling just knowing Nevel will go for his toes otherwise and that can’t happen.

He does regret the decision right away though as the nails return to their abuses of his soles. Nevel goes so far as to grab one sole in a headlock and press his thumb and index finger together before drilling into the perfect center of his sole. He can’t even throw his head back to laugh because of the headstock and the total lack of movement adds to the heightened tickling.

“Toes for thirty seconds or brushes for three.”

Freddy pales and Nevel smirks and says, “Tick-tock Freddy Benson. You know what happens if you don’t decide.”

The brush was terrible, but his toes- this is impossible!

“Umm- toes!”

He curses himself the second he says it because Nevel does nor spare his toes at all, going right at them with feverish delight and even though Freddy tries to clench his toes, it isn’t anywhere near enough to dull the sensation to something manageable.

“Tell us a story about your feet, or tell us how you take care of them to keep them so perfectly ticklish.”

Freddy blushes and then says, “I don’t really think I have any stories about them being tickled so I guess I apply lotion before I go to sleep and after I shower.”

Not by choice, another of his mom’s many weird idiosyncrasies. It isn’t just to his feet, it’s everywhere and it does mean he doesn’t have dry skin like other people have to deal with.

“Really? No guy has ever seen these feet and given them a good tickling? What a shame.”

Freddy thinks Nevel might be flirting with him but luckily he isn’t given much time to think about that because the next challenge is up almost right away. “Feather five minutes or brush for three?”

“Feather.”

There is no way a feather is that bad and as Nevel brings the fluffy part down on his sole, Freddy smirks, confident for the first time because he feels it, but it isn’t nearly as ticklish as any of the other things.

His victory is short lived because Nevel flips the feather upside down and goes at him with the point of it which Freddy decides is like a worse finger nail. It’s pointer, and more tickly, there’s only one of them which is a relief but not much of one.

Five minutes of that give Freddy plenty of time to see the error in his ways and it feels like much longer than five minutes. Nevel is also cooing softly to him but Freddy can barely hear over his own laughter which is a mixed blessing.

As soon as it finishes Nevel says, “People must have liked my feather work because it might be back for round two. Feather between your toes for three minutes, or brush under your toes for the same time?”

“Feather?”

At this point he isn’t sure there is a right choice but once the feather saws between his squirming toes, he can’t help but hope this was the right one because that would mean something could tickle worse than this, and Freddy isn’t ready to contemplate that possibility.

Nevel doesn’t even have to do anything fancy… not that Freddy is sure there is a fancy way to tickle someone but Nevel just saws the feather back and forth and that is more than enough to keep Freddy in hysterics with milliseconds of peace when Nevel moves the feather to torture a different pair of toes.

“Brush under your toes for one minute or on your soles for five.”

Freddy groans because he is almost tempted to let it happen to his toes but that would be madness so he reluctantly says, “Soles.”

“Desperate to protect those toes, huh? I can’t wait to get at them more.”

Nevel’s teasing is the least of his worries as the brush bristles assault his soles and Nevel makes sure to cover his whole foot this time, heels up to the balls of his feet. Only his toes escape and while Freddy is happy for that, the rest is pure torture. Especially since Nevel never keeps things predictable, he always targets a new area or changes the speed just enough that any mental prepping Freddy tries to do is totally pointless and the five minutes feel closer to five years.

“Give Nevel ownership to your feet and let him sign them, or five minutes with the brush.” Nevel smirks when he finishes reading and taunts, “I know what I want.”

Freddy grumbles and says, “Sign them.”

“That isn’t it, Freddy Benson. You have something else you need to say.”

He wrinkles his nose and says, “Nevel owns my feet? You are doing what you want with them anyway, so what does it maThEHR!”

“Careful or you’ll make me write it sloppy and then I’ll have to start again.”

Freddy tries his best to hold still but the cool, damp pen tickles- maybe not worse than the brush or the feathers, but different and still terrible. There’s a few moments where Nevel blows puffs of cool air on his sweaty feet that have him ready to jump out of his skin as well. He has no doubt that tomorrow morning when he has to wash the message off that he will feel a rush of shame, but that sounds like a humiliation for later.

“Get your toes kissed, or sucked?”

Because apparently there is still humiliation for today to deal with. He has no idea which he is supposed to pick so Freddy blushes and says, “Kissed I guess.”

It sounds less invasive but Nevel seems all too delighted to work his way down the line and leave a sloppy, wet kiss on each toe which has Freddy giggling and feeling conflicted about not totally hating or being disgusted by the feeling.

It occurs to Freddy how messed up this is, making him pick what form of tickling he has to suffer through. He has to choose, or Nevel will do both, but there is a humiliating level of having input into it at all. Instead of a passive position, he is forced to take an active part in it. He doesn’t want Nevel’s mouth anywhere near his feet, and yet here is choosing to have his toes kissed by his nemesis.

“Fuzz thread? Or lickled?”

Freddy blinks for a moment and then says, “Thread?”

He has no idea what the thread is, but he can only guess which two words are put together to create lickled and he is all too happy to avoid that.

The thread Nevel pulls out is exactly as advertised, pink and fuzzy and for a blissful moment, Freddy fails to understand its true purpose because it doesn’t look like it will be too bad on his soles. And then Nevel laces it between his toes and he realizes what a grace mistake he made, “No- Lickle- lickle!”

But too late the murderous thread slides between his big toe and it’s neighbor and he can hear Nevel taunting him but can’t really make it out because the fluff between his toes sawing back and forth is new levels of maddening.

If he had been curious about what Nevel said, which he isn’t, he ends up getting an answer anyway in the form of Nevel’s warm, wet tongue on his soles and that, combined with the thread, nearly causes him to pass out from sensory overload.

Nevel gives him a break after that and Freddy feels weirdly thankful to his tickler for it because he isn’t sure he could have gone back into another round of it right away. Of course, it doesn’t last nearly long enough and Nevel is quickly giving him the next choice.

“Lotion or oil?”

Freddy frowns and then says, “Lotion?”

He isn’t sure what the point is but judging from Nevel’s look of glee, there is one, or he’s just happy for any excuse to touch Freddy’s feet. He pumps a generous amount into his hand and then starts to massage it into Freddy’s soles, taking more time than Freddy thinks is necessary. Once finished, Nevel continues by asking, “Fingers for five or brush for three?”

Freddy sighs and says, “Brush.” At this point, he figures the shorter tickle challenges he takes, the more chances he has for non tickle ones to pop up and that might keep him sane through all of this.

It’s only after the brush makes contact that he realizes what the point of the lotion is and that he’s made a terrible mistake because if the brush was murder before, the frictionless surface of his now lotioned feet make it doubly so. He had assumed it couldn’t get any worse, but the way the brush just slides across his soles with no effort at all means that it tickles even more and even faster and Freddy is howling but still totally trapped and now more ticklish than ever.

It isn’t even the brush, every tool is far more menacing with the lotion all over his feet and the only minor consolation is Nevel won’t put his mouth on Freddy’s feet over the oil which isn’t much of a prize.

Eventually, he stops paying attention to the options and just picks the first one each time, too tired to try to figure out which will tickle less.

Freddy is nearly hysterical when the stream ends, tears sting the corners of his eyes and sweat has dripped into them, making them sting. He feels the pressure on his ankles and neck let up and he pulls himself out. He reaches for his socks, eager to get them on and get out of this whole, humiliating ordeal when Nevel grabs his hands and leads him over to a couch where he pulls Freddy’s still bare and very tingly feet onto his lap.

“No way- no more tickling.”

The horror of saying the word has worn off after having it done to him for an hour straight but Nevel’s hands grasp his soles and instead start massaging them, leading to a groan of pleasure from Freddy.

“I meant what I said. People will pay good money to see these feet tickled. The stream made several hundred, and I will of course be sending half of it your way.”

Freddy’s eyes widen, both at the amount made, and the fact that Nevel is just giving him a cut.

“I told you. I was looking for a partner, not a tech person.”

He flushes a darker red as Nevel continues.

“I have had a crush on these feet for a long time, and maybe on the boy who owns them.”

Deflecting, Freddy replies, “You would have a crush on yourself.”

It’s awkward to use all of that to escape the idea that Nevel might have a crush on him.

He feels two wet kisses placed on his big toes and turns an even darker shade of red. “On air I might, but I don’t think so off air, at least not until you let me.”

The world is truly a messed up place if Nevel Papperman would be sweet talking him, and Freddy might be falling for it.

“You have a crush on Carly,” he says, hoping to get Nevel to admit this is all bull.

“I did. But then I saw you. At first it was strictly a foot thing but then I realized that you have something she doesn’t have, loyalty. Imagine if you gave that to someone who appreciated it, instead of trading you to me for two hours without more than three minutes of thinking about it?”

“I don’t know that you’ll be loyal.”

“I will prove it. Over time at least. You’ll see.”

Freddy rolls his eyes here and says, “Or I’ll rue it?”

Nevel shrugs. “I can’t say. I have no plans on getting revenge on you if you don’t, but you already know how appreciated you are by your friends.”

Freddy doesn’t have a reply to that. Nevel massages his feet until the phantom tickles are finally gone, he talks a bit, not seeming to mind that Freddy gives no replies. Some of it is about Freddy and is cute feet, which is awkward. Some of it is about things he realized he admired about Freddy, which is more awkward because it’s compliments no one has ever given to him. Mostly it’s idle chatter about nothing in particular and it’s strange that Freddy is more at ease here, knowing he can just relax and Sam isn’t going to come attack him or Carly isn’t going to need his help in some scheme.

Nevel lets him out shortly after and the whole way home, he thinks it all over in his head.

iNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNeveliNevel

Freddy, sweaty but happy glances at the camera, his feet are currently being tickled, and he’s exhausted but they are over seven hours into the tickle live stream. Nevel’s set up a monitor so Freddy can watch the comments, something he’s come to love doing. It’s beyond anything he’s ever imagined, but honestly, he wishes it had happened sooner.

[boytickler35]

Foot Friends Part 1

Art by KingofFeathers

“Welcome Foot Friends and today I have a treat for you.” 

Ryan starts his recording with the camera facing himself as he addresses his viewers before panning the camera around the basement to Justin and Zach, locked in a pair of stocks, their sneakers hanging up behind them.

“That's right your eyes do not deceive you, it is Liberty High’s top heartthrobs and members of the state winning football team. you may be asking yourself how exactly I managed to get these two into my stocks. As it turns out Justin here comes pretty cheap but he's shy and talked his buddy into coming with him so today instead of the usual content we do, you are all in for a treat. For those of you hoping to hear all about these two and their feet, you are also in luck because we are going to start out with an interview, which is where we will start now. So, Justin, what made you decide to surrender your straight, jock boy feet to me? What could you possibly need the money for so badly?”

Ryan enjoys watching him squirm before he hears the reply, “I needed money for a date, couldn’t get it any other way.”

It sounds like a lie, something in Justin’s voice tells him the jock isn’t being truthful but Ryan doesn’t really care. A desperate straight boy makes for decent enough questions and Ryan still has to keep the conversation going for a bit longer. Anyway, he had always wanted to get to question Justin Foley about his feet.

“How do you think she’d feel knowing the money you’re spending on her was earned by having a gay guy tickle those big feet?”

“She isn’t going to find out so it doesn’t matter.”

Ryan can’t help a smirk as he thinks of Jess Davis’s reaction to any of this but decides to shift and ask his other guest a few questions.

“And how do you, Zach, feel about being here? What could Justin have possibly said to make you want to come along for this?”

“Oh.” Zach somehow looks surprised to be addressed as if he somehow thought Ryan wouldn’t talk to him. “Justin is a great friend and would have done the same for me.”

The overwhelming nervous energy coming from the Asian boy is almost entertaining as Ryan moves on to the last question. “What is the strongest experience you can recall with tickling?”

Neither of the jocks respond for a moment and he can see whatever passes for thinking from them before a smile creeps onto Justin’s face and Ryan is given an unnecessary reminder of the reason for his long time crush on the handsome boy. “I dunno if this is what you’re looking for but there’s a towel at Bryce’s that is like, really fluffy and whenever I use it, it drives me mad. Drying my feet off is impossible cause I’m giggling too much.”

It’s not at all what he expected but also one of the dumbest, and hottest, things he’s ever heard. The idea of Liberty’s star wide receiver unable to handle a towel is comedy.

“Well, I promise I am a lot worse than a towel so I hope you boys are ready to get destroyed.” 

His fingers make contact with the feet and he is pleasantly shocked. He had been afraid their feet would have been hard from football playing but both are soft, Zach’s silky smooth and Justin’s a little less so but plush under his fingers.

It turns out both are comically ticklish as well with the light strokes causing their feet to try flinching away from the tickling and soft giggles to fall from their mouth. Justin seems worse which surprises him. He expected both to be made of sterner stuff but Justin is supposed to be from a pretty rough neighborhood but his feet are shockingly soft and very receptive to Ryan’s probing. Zach’s are too, but he seems a little better at keeping it together.

He plays around for a bit teasing them lightly as he does, “My viewers love nothing more than seeing a pair of straight boy feet walk their way into my stocks, and today they get that but double!”

Between giggles, the pair manage a bit of protest but Ryan isn’t really listening, he’s too busy enjoying the power he has over them for the moment and he has already wasted enough time talking to them. Now, his fingers switch from scratching to a fluttering motion over both soles, driving both of them wild. He continues for a bit exploring their feet with his hands.

As it turns out, Justin is stupidly ticklish everywhere from heels to toes. It takes basically no effort to get him giggling and it isn’t much harder to turn those giggles into full laughter. Zach is a little harder at first. He giggles like Justin, his massive soles seem to be a treasure trove of nerves, but unlike Justin, he is harder to get laughing. Ryan can do it, he discovers, but it requires toys. 

Ryan is all too happy to bring those out anyway, he may not have told the pair he would be using tools on their feet… but he doesn’t really care. Straight boy feet, especially teasing straight boy feet like Justin’s, deserve every bit of tickling punishment Ryan can eek out.

Feathers are classics that don’t work on many guys, so he decides to start there. As it turns out, they are more effective on these two than they are on most people because it gets Justin giggling again, the cutest sound Ryan has heard in a long time. More fun, he gets to watch Zach, less affected by the feather, try to protect Justin's feet with his own, tilting his ankles to try to cover his buddy’s helplessly ticklish soles and honestly, if that isn’t love, Ryan isn’t sure what is.

It quickly comes back to bite Zach cause while Ryan is willing to indulge his tickle toys a bit, his feather ends up finding Zach’s toes, an otherwise untickled spot so far. It turns out Zach can’t handle that and Ryan decides to file that info away for a bit later and focus on wrecking them jointly for a bit longer.

He takes a deep breath and leans down to the center of Justin’s sole and blows a fat raspberry. The two things he notices are that one, Justin can’t handle it if the almost silent laughter is anything to go by, and two, his feet taste a bit sweet, a bit salty, and Ryan would love a worship session with them… but tickling is just too much fun. Zach’s feet don’t hold up any better against the raspberries either and Ryan spends a few minutes alternating between the sets of feet.

Ryan decides to move in for the kill on Zach. He was really thinking Justin would crack first but damn are Zach’s toes insanely ticklish. He brings the brush up and uses its delicate bristles on the equally delicate skin under Zach’s toes. It’s so satisfying to completely break the tall, handsome jock with so little effort and he can’t help cooing at the suffering teen.

As much as he would like to drag out the anticipation, he is also eager to fully break him and so brings the bristles up to the pads of Zach’s toes. He couldn’t have hoped for better results as Zach’s laughter jumps an octave with the tickling and Justin, previously lost in his own tickle torture takes notice by cracking an eye open. Ryan loves a captive audience, letting Justin stew in his own impending fate. But right now he has Zach to concentrate on as he moves the brush in a circular pattern over the large toe pad. He almost regrets keeping Zach’s feet so far apart so it’s difficult to tickle both at the same time but a glance up shows him that Zach is clutching Justin tightly as tears form in the corners of his eyes. It’s maybe the most beautiful thing Ryan has ever seen.

He presses for about two minutes, turning Zach more or less into putty in his stocks and then says, “Who’s my tickle bitch?”

Without hesitating, Zach laughs back, “MeHEheEhe!”

“It is you isn’t it? A silly little giggle bitch. Who has big ticklish jock boy feet?”

“MeHEhEHE!”

“Good, and who owns these feet?”

“YohOhoHoU!”

“Glad we can agree on that. Now Justin, let's get on to you.”

Watching those adorable, bubbly toes clench is true magic and he decides to pull out his last trick of the night, something he is certain will absolutely wreck his longest running man crush and his pretty feet.

Reaching under where the boys can see, he pulls out an electric toothbrush and holds it up. Justin’s face pales a bit under the redness. He flicks it on dramatically and goes for Justin’s toes knowing it won’t break him, just yet, but it does have him laughing madly. He keeps Zach busy too by teasing his toes, just with fingers, but fingers is all it takes on those soles.

However, all good things need to end and Justin is flagging from the constant tickling and Ryan doesn’t want to mar his victory by having an exhausted Justin capitulate, so now is the time. He moves the buzzing toothbrush  to the center of Justin’s arch and lets the sparks fly. The jock can’t handle it and that makes Ryan especially pleased and he doesn’t give Justin the out as fast as he gave it to Zach, preferring to savor the squeaks and squeals mingled with hysterical laughter for a bit.

Eventually though he says, “Who has big silly jock boy feet?”

Justin doesn’t reply and Ryan gets his dream interaction, a stubborn jock holding out and letting Ryan tickle his feet more. “Stubborn are we? It isn’t a secret, you know. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Justin doesn’t and Ryan goes so far as to remove his hand tickling Zach and move it to Justin’s other foot, causing the other boy’s laughter to rise another octave. Still, the handsome boy refuses to give in and Zach, after catching his breath, says, “Just do it.”

Justin hold out about a minute longer before finally laughing, “MehEHEHe!”

“Good boy,” Ryan purrs, “now tell me you love having these big, teasing feet punished.”

Another moment of hesitation but Ryan takes a deep breath and blows out another raspberry on the silky soles causing Justin to bumble out the phrase and Ryan drinks in the lovely sound of total defeat before pressing with the final question.

“And who owns these big, ticklish feet?”

“YoUHOhOu!”

Ryan purrs again at the reply and keeps tickling. Zach jumps in and says, “Hey, he said what you wanted.” Deciding to ignore the other athlete, Ryan focuses for another minute or two on the captive jock but eventually, the end has to come.

Ryan’s sad to release them from the stocks but takes pleasure in knowing this isn’t totally over yet. There is the post tickling interview and then the behind the scenes part. For a moment, he leaves them alone though, they shift, resting their massive feet on the top of the stocks and don’t make any moves, Justin is still fully leaning on Zach’s chest and Zach still has an arm around Justin’s abdomen, holding onto him. Both of them have their eyes closed, their faces still red. They’re cute, if only they were gay.

“What was the worst part?”

“Can I say all of it?” Justin responds without opening his eyes.

“I’m surprised, I wouldn’t have guessed your feet were so ticklish, surely all of that football training should have toughened them up.”

He watches the bubbly toes curl a bit at the insult and adds on, “You know Justin. In terms of my tickle list, your name is at the top. You’ve been a naughty little tease.”

That get’s Justin to crack an eye open as he peers at Ryan in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, I’ve been watching you during math, always popping your heels out of your sneakers, giving more than a few good looks at those well worn socks, I can see the pinkness of your heel through them! You must have known you’d attract my attention.”

Justin turns the most adorable shade of pink and rubs one foot against the other. Zach’s eyes are wide open now too and very alarmed looking.

Ryan smirks and says, “If you make them look any cuter I’ll lock them right back up and give them another tickling, you little tease.”

The shock in the pale blue eyes is amazing and Justin really might be Liberty’s cutest boy but he does have another guest and once again, Justin’s natural charisma is outshining Zach.

“What about you, bigfoot? Where are those stompers most sensitive?”

Zach blushes and examines his feet before saying, “I think my toes.”

“I’d say so, all I had to do was look at them and you started giggling.” Turning the camera back to himself, he addresses the watchers again, “And there you have it folks, Liberty’s greatest dreamboats reduced to a pair of ticklish teenage boys for your pleasure and mine. Hope you enjoyed it, and see you next time.” With that, he ends the stream and looks back at the pair who have finally shifted, Justin stands, Zach stretches.

“We’re almost done, but I believe I’m owed trophies.”

The pair look at him in a combination of surprise and confusion but Ryan goes over to a case in the middle of the room and pulls the cover off to reveal a trophy case with different sneakers and tickle tools in it.

A look of embarrassed horror comes over their faces as Ryan opens up a large section and says, “I believe those sneakers would look perfect next to each other, just like you two were.”

“Ryan-”

Justin tries to protest but Ryan cuts him off. “I won’t send you home barefoot, now put them in here.”

There is something incredibly satisfying about seeing two of the top jocks in the school walking barefoot over to the hooks to retrieve their sneakers and then returning to the trophy case before dropping them in.

“Boys, don’t be spoiled-sports, put them in nicely. Show my new trophies some respect.

There is a bit of grumbling as they rearrange them nicely. Ryan lets him keep their socks, if it had been their baby blue Liberty tube socks, you can bet he would be displaying them, but since they’re regular, he doesn’t mind letting them get away. He admires for a moment, plans to turn one of Justin’s sneakers on its side, maybe angle one of Zach’s sneakers out… decisions, decisions. 

“And I think the conquering weapon as well? What do you think Justin? Zach’s was obviously that brush under his toes but you had a lot of trouble with a few tools.”

Watching Justin rub one foot awkwardly on the floor as Ryan makes him relive the tickle horror he just went through is nothing short of delicious, especially to contemplate what destroyed his feet the most. 

“I think…” he hesitates and Ryan loves how much thought he is putting into this because he could just lie and deprive Ryan of his fun, but instead he is seriously thinking about it. The only thing that would make it better is if Ryan could hear those thoughts.

“The tooth brushes I think.”

“I agree, I didn’t think a jock could squeal like that.”

Ryan decides the pair are cute blushing, and honestly they should have been gay. “Well as much as I would like to keep you boys here longer, I’m sure you need to go shout about manliness and jockhood somewhere so I’ll let you go.” He reaches down into a box under the display and pulls out two sets of slides, brand new, and says, “But let's make sure you don’t go out barefoot. It would be a shame to damage the goods like that.”

His smirk returns as he sees the scarlet blush heat up both their faces when they get a look at the slides, plain black at first glance but on the strap is the logo of his page, the Foot Friends, a pair of Fs with feathers.

There is a hint of disgust on Justin’s face as he slides his feet into them which melts to bliss, the same expression on Zach’s face as he steps into them. Ryan smirks. “Comfy aren’t they?”

“Yea, never felt such a cushy sole,” Zach comments dreamily. 

Ryan’s smirk widens as he says, “Perfect for silly jock boy feet.”

Both blush at that and basically get out of the room as fast as they can. Ryan gazes at the trophy case, excited at the prospect of getting his hands on them again.

13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW13RW

As they get into the car, Justin buckles his seat belt and says, “Well?”

Zach squirms and replies, “It was- everything I hoped for, I think.”

“You think?”

“I- could have done without having my sneakers taken.” He looks down at the stupid slides he’s wearing and blushes because he hates it… but he also loves it, and all of the other humiliating extras Ryan tagged on. “But thanks. For coming.”

Justin shrugs as he leans back in the seat, eyes closed, and says, “I got you bro, you know that. Besides, I needed the money for rent, so it worked out for me anyway.”

Zach lets out a sigh of relief as he starts the engine. A long time fantasy of his has been crossed off the bucket list and that’s kind of a relief but…

“What would you say if I said I might want to do it again?”

Justin cracks an eye and replies, “I mean… Ryan is kind of a douche. If he said one more thing at the end, I might have punched him. But if you really want to and don’t want to go alone, you know I’ll come with you.”

“But you won’t be happy about it.” He’s a little disappointed at the response and hesitantly probes, “You didn’t enjoy it even a bit?”

Justin shrugs. “Those sneakers were small but now I only have one pair and they’re really worn out. Plus Ryan sucks.”

“Yea…”

Zach lets it drop as he pulls out but at a light it dawns on him. “You didn’t say you didn’t like getting tickled.”

Justin glances down at his feet and shrugs. “Laughing is nice. Feels like I haven’t had a reason to lately. But I didn’t like how Ryan kept looking at us… like we were meat. It was gross.”

“Hmm.” Zach lets it drop. He doesn’t want to annoy Justin, not after the other boy decided to subject himself to that humiliation with him just because Zach asked him to. But he does wonder if maybe there is a world where he can get tickled more… and maybe get Justin more involved too.

[boytickler35]

Jedi Fallen Order: Return of the Ticklish Padawan

As Greez pulls his head out of the duct that he’s working in, a strange sound reaches his ears. With a frown he grabs one of his heavier wrenches and moves silently through the ship. Cere is off on a supply run so he and Cal are alone on the Mantis right now, and the kid is supposed to be sleeping.

When he approaches the sleeping quarters though, the sound grows louder and more distinct, coming from Cal’s room. Part of him is tempted to march in and demand to know what the kid is doing cause he’s supposed to be sleeping as in resting. The other part of him though is confused cause the sound is laughter, more freely than he’s ever heard from Cal before. He stands outside for a moment before nudging the door open.

Inside, the red head is laying out on his bed while the little oil leaker pokes and nudges at the kid’s sides emphatically while Cal lays and giggles, occasionally punctuated by a laugh when the droid hits a sensitive spot. Tickling. All of this racket caused by some tickling. He really never would have guessed that Cal, always stoic and somber in true Jedi fashion, would be ticklish. Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember ever hearing the young man’s laugh. Greez decides he likes the sound; it’s sweet, and genuinely happy, and clearly Cal’s enjoying this.

He lingers at the door debating what to do. The kid really should be sleeping after his fight with one of those Inquisitors but-he’s happy.

Finally he clears his throat.

The boy turns a pretty shade of red to match his hair and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Guarded. He doesn’t blame the kid, being hunted for so many years would make anyone tense. It does sting a little, but he pushes that aside and continues the conversation.

“And this helps?”

He sort of gets a shrug, still standoffish and guarded and embarrassed.

“Well if it does, clearly your little buddy isn’t cutting it,” he advances on the bed menacingly, pulling the greasy, oil stained gloves off his hands, all four of them, and cracking his knuckles. He knows that if Cal really doesn’t want this, he’s more than able to stop it so he doesn’t feel bad.

His hands find the socked feet first, one sticking out from under the covers, the other not far from it. It’s easy when he gets close enough to pin both ankles and tickle with his other hands.

Cal yelps and laughs, more of the same happy sound mixed with a plea...or demand he can’t really tell, “GrHEhEhEhZE! SHthahAhAhAhAP!” The kid tugs his ankles back but not hard, not really even trying as far as he can tell.

“Nope, you made your bed, now lay in it.”

The socks are thick, good considering all the cold places he goes running off too, but wow. It’s impressive how ticklish he is with them still on. Greez scratches several nails against both feet and is pretty pleased with the reaction.

“KnOHahAocKIHehEHeheheITohAhoFF!”

He’s less pleased when the kid almost kicks him but hey, hazards of the job.

“Maybe I should move on up?”

Without waiting for an answer he grabs at the kid’s knees finding a new trove of nerves to exploit and continues bringing out the bubbling laughter and a lot of squirms as Cal rolls from side to side trying, maybe, to get away. With one hand he reaches up and pokes the kid’s belly, keeping the other three squeezing his legs. It takes a bit of leaning but he manages it and is rewarded by Cal trying to suck his tummy in as far as it’ll go and still not getting away.

By now the kid’s face is nearly as red as his hair but he’s smiling with glee not just from getting tickled but Greez stops anyway partly to give him a breather and partly cause the disappointed pout that spreads across his face is cute. It makes him look like the kid he is and not some solemn Jedi of the past.

“Done already?”

He almost laughs at the kid’s voice, trying to sound teasing and not disappointed but only partly succeeding, he doesn’t need the Force to know Cal is hoping for more. “I don’t have to be.”

“I mean-you can continue if you want.”

It’s sort of endearing how the kid won’t meet his eyes and he moves up again, now in prime position to attack both sides and both armpits and judging by the look on Cal’s face, he realizes as much.

It might be a little mean of him but he doesn’t give the kid an opportunity to back out and digs in. His fingers are pretty strong from years of working with picky, delicate machines and when he starts kneading the boy’s sides, the response is electric, thrashing and laughing wildly. Working Cal up is easy enough but he decides to wait until he’s got the kid good and squirming before getting into his armpits at the same time and that’s when he gets some real belly laughs.

“This what you were looking for kid?”

“GREhAheAHehAHss!”

“That’s my name.”

The best part about this is he can go as far as he wants, Cal is more than capable of stopping him if it gets too much.

He continues to drill the kid’s armpits and knead his sides, and occasionally when he feels like really getting him, he goes for the belly button. All told he works the kid over pretty hard.

“STAhAhAhAP!”

“Aww, what’s wrong I thought you liked this.”

He does though and gets a few more giggles that mingle with hiccups.

“Tired out yet?”

A surprisingly cocky smirk, “Not even close, old man.”

He huffs, feigning annoyance, “Bold words from a ticklish little pup. Let’s see how you handle it when I do this~”

In a smooth motion he strips both socks off. “Still feeling confident kid?”

“Maybe a little less?”

He lets out a chuckle and digs into the now bare feet and Cal’s laughter quickly overtakes his own. He wasn’t wrong when he thought the socks must be protecting some really ticklish feet because Cal lifts things with the Force several times involuntarily while getting tickled. It isn’t hard to see why either, despite the last ten or so years on the run, the feet are soft and sensitive.

Kid's lucky he’s a merciful man and doesn’t just focus on the toes because it’s obvious pretty quick those are his worst spots. The pad of each one is like a thermal detonator waiting to go off and he flicks at them here and there but not too often, only when he thinks Cal is getting used to the tickling. Other than them the rest of the kid’s feet are fair game, he scratches at Cal’s heels and the balls of his feet and pokes at the arches, earning a steady stream of laughter and squirming but never pulling away.

Cal isn’t even smart enough to keep his mouth shut and provokes him to new heights and he finds he really has no problem dishing out as much tickling as he can, moving up and down the kid’s body from his feet to his neck. In fact it isn’t until Cal yawns during his revisit to the terrible ticklish toe pads, one so powerful it overtakes his laughter and causes Greez to stop. He glances at the boy and Cal looks...probably tired enough to hibernate. Letting go of the kid’s feet he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and says awkwardly, “Sorry about that kid I guess I got carried away.”

He gets a hoarse chuckle, “You could say that.”

He hesitantly reaches out and smooths some of the silky reddish hair. He decides not to comment when Cal leans against his hand ever so slightly. “Well I’ll just see myself out, you’d better actually sleep now.”

The grin lingers, “I don’t think I'll have a problem with that thanks to you.”

He nods approvingly and goes to leave, but as he does Cal speaks again.

“Hey Greez?”

“Yeah?” He half turns to face the kid who’s now laying back, propped up on his elbows with an expression half thoughtful and half shy.

“You’re not as mean as you look.”

He reaches out and tweaks the kid’s big toe and replies, “You’re not as tough as you look kid, now I’m serious, go to bed or the metal monster and I will pin you down and make you.”

BD gives a pleased sound beep but hops over to Cal and snuggles up against his chest. Cal lays down fully and with a sigh Greez fixes the blanket over them. Gentle snores fill the room as he’s closing the door. He didn’t expect the kid to be so ticklish, much less get so much enjoyment out of it. It-well it’s kind of cute actually the way he let down his guards and looked like a blasted kid for a bit. He could get used to the Mantis being filled with that laughter too. It might be nice.

[boytickler35]

Danny Phantom Halloween Special

Danny wrinkles his nose at the ‘organic’ candy Sam hands out to trick or treaters. He told her to at least hand out candy corn because it has to be healthy, it has corn in the name! Instead, she went off on a tangent about how… whatever it is she’s handing out is better for kids. It seems pointless to remind her that Halloween is about being unhealthy.

A chill creeps up his back and a puff of gas escapes his mouth. He groans, helping Sam run the a stall at the school’s trick or treat function was not his dream Halloween but they were supposed to pick up Tucker and watch scary movies together after and that is going to be a lot of fun. Now some ghost is going to ruin that. He taps Sam on the shoulder so she can give him some cover. Once changed, he sets off in search of the ghost.

It doesn’t take him long to find a cowboy riding on a skeletal horse, holding a plastic pumpkin head in one hand.

Youngblood, scaring candy givers and takers alike as his horse leaves trails of blue fire.

Danny heaves an annoyed sigh as he settles down in front of the ghostly child. Youngblood glances at him and says, “All I wanted was to trick or treat but these guys are all scared of me! It’s so unfair. These party poopers always ruin everything!”

With a shriek of rage, Youngblood’s eyes glow and Danny shouts, “Wait. Wait!”

Youngblood, eyes still glowing, faces him expectantly.

“We can make a deal. You don’t freak out, and in exchange…” He starts to hesitate, not sure what the ghost wants that he can safely offer.

“In exchange, you play with me!”

There’s a gleam in Youngblood’s eye that promises problems, but at the risk of a town leveling temper tantrum, Danny agrees, with one condition.

“Without lasers!”

“Nope. No lasers at all.” Youngblood says in a sing-song voice.

They fly to Youngblood’s ship, ominously moored over the city. Once on board, Youngblood disappears and returns, brown leather jacket and robbers mask having replaced his old costume. He pushes clothes into Danny’s hands, a sheriff’s costume. This seems… okay. It goes on over his black jumpsuit easily enough.

And then Youngblood attacks him.

Attack might be too strong a word… one minute Danny is fixing a sheriff’s star to his new coat, the next he has a ghostly lasso wrapped around him too tightly to get off.

“Yer not welcome around these parts, Sheriff.”

“I think that’s my line.”

Youngblood glares at him and hisses, “Stay in character.”

“Umm I think that’s my line, bandit?”

Youngblood’s smirk returns as he says, “Nope. I think it’s mine, but since you came here. You’re going to give me the combination to the bank safe!”

Warming up to his role Danny replies, “Never. You’ll have to take it from me!”

“I plan to.” Youngblood’s smirk now has a hint of malice to it and Danny wonders how smart of an idea this was as the ghostly boy lands, the lasso moves, forcing Danny to sit down so they are more or less eye level. Youngblood advances and continues in character, “Say Sheriff, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish would you?”

Danny gulps but a glare from Youngblood has him reply, “If you think I’ll give up the combination cause of a little tickling, you’re mistaken.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say!” a way too excited Young blood shot back, instantly sending shivers down Danny’s spine.

What has he gotten himself into?

With little time to ponder his predicament, Danny finds himself knotted up in a position much more suited for cattle.

“Uh...I’m not sure I like where this is going...”

With Youngblood too caught up in his game to notice the response, the boy plunges his stubby fingers deep into the teen’s, defenseless sides.

“Gauaahhh,wahahahahit!!” Danny bellows, momentarily halting the ghost child’s assault.

“Don’t tell me you’re throwing in the towel already, law man?” Youngblood ridicules with a raised eyebrow.”

“In your dreams, convict. I'd never surrender to an outlaw!” Even Danny is surprised by the response wondering if his survival skills are somehow totally defective.

“Haha I knew you’d be one tough cookie to crack, Sheriff,” thrilled with his game the mischievous ghost boy quickly gets back to work, diving deep into his captive’s compromised torso.

“AAAAHHHHH, NOHOHOHO,” was all the ‘Sheriff’ could muster.

“Ahh no? Well that doesn't sound like no combination to me,” Youngblood mocked as he grabbed handfuls of Danny’s scrawny sides, kneading them as if he were doing laundry.

Danny thought to rattle off a random set of numbers in hopes of ending his ordeal, but he struggled to formulate anything other than laughter as Youngblood continued his relentless assault.

Just then, Youngblood’s chubby digits began to slip past Danny’s tender sides threatening to torment his flat, unsuspecting tummy, which had only managed to avoid most of the onslaught thanks to his positioning.

Sensing the attack, Danny begins to buck like a powerful rebellious steed. “NOHOHOHOHO, COME ONNN!”

Youngblood holds on tightly tickling every step of the way, “YEEEEEHAWWWW!” he exclaimed, adding further humiliation to the older boy’s endless suffering.

Struggling proves futile however, with Youngblood gaining the upper hand swiftly. The ghost boy uses his leverage to quickly hoist Danny into the proper position, working over his previously untouched, toned belly with a childish disregard for his captive’s sanity.

Danny is nothing more than an instrument in his captor’s grasp as each poke produces streams of different tickly melodies from his lips, but none sounding like the combination Youngblood claimed to be looking for.

“Aaaahaaahahalllrriighhtt!!” Danny pleads. “I surrender, I’ll give YOHOHOHOO the combination!” His face a bright red mess of sweat and tears he begins to prattle off numbers hoping they’ll be his salvation .

Expecting his intimidate release, Danny is taken aback when Youngblood first mimes himself putting in a combination before declaring it wrong then stating “Oohohoho, you sly dog you, I should’ve expected a wrong combination!”

Danny’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Now it’s time to play my favorite game, tic..tac...TOES!”

“Youngblood!”

His boots disappear off his feet, seemingly at the behest of his eternally young tormentor and several ghostly feathers float up, dripping ectoplasmic green ink.

They rise up to his feet and slowly, with agonizing tickling, draw a massive tic tac toe board over each of his feet.

“If I win three games, you tell me what I want. If you win, I’ll let you go, maybe.”

“That doesn’t seem fair!” Danny giggles out in the aftermath of the first taste of foot tickling. The ink on his soles feels funny and he doesn’t like it but he has more things to worry about.

“Doesn’t matter. I'll go first!” The ghostly quill draws a big circle on the center of his heel arch, causing him to giggle and try to kick but his legs are now bound tighter leaving him unable to do that.”

“Your turn!”

Just as Danny is about to say he can’t see the game, a ghostly image of it appears in front of him and he says glumly, “Bottom right.” He then braces himself as the tickling starts again.

He cackles madly as an ‘x’ is drawn on the side of his heel.

Youngblood and him place several more marks, each one tickling more than the last until the tiny ghost crows, “I win!”

As if to add insult to ticklery, a line is drawn across the winning shapes on Danny’s feet, causing more laughter from the teenage ghost.

“Next game! Careful, Sheriff, I’m going to beat you soon! It’s be a shame if our game ends too quickly.”

Youngblood's tone has Danny assuming that if the ghost is unsatisfied, he’ll pretend it’s a wrong combo again. Danny frowns trying to remember how Tucker always beats him when they play in class.

His musings are cut short when another circle is drawn on the center of Danny’s other arch. It doesn’t tickle any less than the last time, actually it might tickle a little more since he wasn’t ready for it, but now Danny is ready. He calls out the same move again but he has a plan in mind this time.

Youngblood places his next move and then Danny calls his next one, and puts Youngblood in a trap. He sees an annoyed look cross the boy’s face as his opponent realizes what happened.

“Well played, Sheriff.” The ghost child’s voice is anything but congratulatory. “Guess we’d better reset for the next rounds.”

Danny frowns about to ask what needs to be done when two brushes start floating in front of his feet.

“Wait-”

Any plea he might make is cut off by the scrubbing which leaves him in hysterics and pleading, “EhEhEHAStAHAHap!”

“Sorry, we have to continue our game somehow.”

He doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic as his face is split with a huge grin. Danny howls as the firm bristles scrub up and down his soles, leaving him laughing maniacally, especially when the bristles bully their way under his toes to clean the pads and undersides of the green ink.

Danny is panting and exhausted as the brushes disappear and are replaced instead by the feathers, redrawing the boards. He’s too tired at this point to do more than squirm a little and giggle.

As they start playing, he realizes Youngblood is cheating, the boy moving their circles and ‘x’s around to favor him.

“You’re cheHEating.” He jumps a little when a circle is drawn

“Am not.”

“AHAre ToHo!”

Youngblood smirks instead of getting angry and replies, “You must be going crazy from the tickling. I’m not cheating, but I did win again! That makes two for me. One more and you have to tell me the combo!”

Danny watches as the ghost takes the first move again and he plays the game out, but it’s pointless, Youngblood cheats but Danny isn’t trying anyway.

“Now then Sheriff, what's that combo?”

Danny rattles off a series of numbers and hopes Youngblood will take it. Once again the childish ghost mimes entering the combination and this time, Danny heaves a sigh of relief as Youngblood flings open the imaginary door and says, “There now. I knew you could be reasonable.”

The ropes fall away and Danny’s boots reappear on his feet.

“This was fun! You should come back and play again some time.”

Danny groans at just the thought but considering Youngblood seems in a good enough mood to not fire on the city, he’ll take it. Instead, the young ghost lets him leave and once off the ship, it disappears. Danny returns in time to help Sam finish packing up. They grab Tucker and meet at the Fenton house.

A half hour later, popcorn is made and TV is on, they’re stretched out lazily to watch when he starts giggling, his soles tingling suddenly. He tries scratching through his socks but from giggling, it grows into laughter while Sam and Tucker watch him confused.

“Danny what’s wrong?

“The movie’s bad but it isn’t that funny.”

Tingling turns to the feeling of dozens of tickling feathers passing over his soles, maddening and getting stronger by the moment and he realizes he never had the ectoplasm ink scrubbed off after the second round.

He rips his socks off, the glowing goo shine on his soles as he continues laughing.

“BrAHusHeS!” He yells out hoping one of his friends is able to find them for him.

Sam and Tucker jump up and run in opposite directions as he rubs his feet on the floor hoping for any relief but it doesn’t come, not until he can get the plasm off better which will undoubtably involve more tickling. Throwing his head back he laughs out,

“YoHOhuNgBlOhohOad!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Across town, the young ghost smirks at the angry laughter and says to his assistant, “You didn’t think it would work.”

The skeletal horse watches the direction the laughter is coming from as he replies, “I didn’t. I don’t think he’ll want to come back and play with you again after this.”

“Maybe not. But this was a great trick for Halloween!”

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle Part 5

Clay’s phone vibrates as he’s getting off his bike at school. He slips it out of his pocket on his way in, glances to see a text from Justin and opens it.

Ur so fucked

His face flushes as he’s caught between confusion and anger. He and Justin aren’t friends...not really...maybe a tiny bit. Justin invites himself over from time to time, sometimes to sleep for an afternoon on the couch in Clay’s room, other times to play video games. He’s also started tutoring the other boy and unlike Jeff to whom tickling is a reward, he’s taken to using it as a threat to Justin who will usually try to avoid it. Pinning down Justin’s feelings towards it are hard because he alternates between willingly offering his feet and trying his hardest to avoid the tickling. Whatever the case is, Clay makes the other teen take his sneakers off and hand over his phone at the start of tutoring to have a threat to refocus Justin and to take away the biggest distraction.

The text now, ominous and threatening, leaves him feeling like they’ve taken a step back and his hastily tapped out message demanding to know what’s going on is ignored.

He tries to find Justin before class but has no luck and almost texts Jeff to ask but decides not to; mostly because he runs out of time.

When he plops down into his seat for homeroom, he catches Zach’s eye from across the class and the Asian boy sports an interesting look, partly guilty, partly excited, and partly embarrassed. He has no idea what it means until Zach stretches his legs out and Clay’s breath stops in his mouth.

Two massive feet, clad only in Nike slides. Fuck. Zach’s toes spread out as if to tease him more. He spends the whole twenty minutes desperately trying not to watch. Zach doesn’t even do much! The taller boy just leaves his feet in plain view and occasionally flexes his toes but that’s it and worse, it doesn’t need to be anything else because Clay’s attention is fully on the beautiful feet in front of him and what he wants to do to them. Feathers between the toes, fingernails on the arches, a brush on the heels, all while drinking in the helpless laughter.

He can’t even go over and chew the other boy out because that would involve dealing with Monty and there is no way he can navigate a covert conversation with Zach with the aggressive boy there.

Twenty minutes stretches on for what feels like twice that time and when the bell rings and Zach disappears out the door before he can try catching the boy.

The first three periods pass normally but when the bell rings he finds himself more anxious because he shares fourth period with Justin and he has a slight feeling he knows what’s coming. He’s taken aback when Justin’s feet are fully clothed, granted in a nice pair of sneakers, but sneakered all the same. He reaches up to tap the other boy on the shoulder to say something but the teacher walks in and he can’t.

For the first ten or so minutes, he zones out as he listens to a monotone voice explain the ins and outs of photosynthesis. He almost falls asleep when movement catches his eye. In front of him, Justin pops a heel out of his sneaker...and then the other. He lets the sneakers dangle like that for a few seconds or so before his feet return to the ground.

Clay keeps watching; waiting for Justin to start up again but the other boy doesn’t.

Not until he almost resigns himself to total boredom. And then Justin pops a foot out of the sneaker completely. He’s wearing his baby blue tube socks and he uses the now socked foot to pop the other sneaker off and plants his toes on the floor but just his toes so that both soles are exposed looking right at Clay.

Fuck.

This isn’t fair! For the next fifteen minutes, Justin silently teases him. He flexes his toes, straining the socks, crosses them at the ankles, uses his toes to scratch the top of the other foot and rub his feet against each other. The worst comes right before the bell rings, as if the idiot hasn’t done enough to distract him, he watches as Justin casually leans down in his chair and scratches along his socked sole. Clay can see the little jump in his body as he accidentally tickles himself and wants nothing more than to reach down and grab a socked foot and remind him what real tickling is and remind him what a tease deserves. Justin pops his feet back into his sneakers right before the bell rings and gives Clay a wink as he slings his bag on before disappearing out the door and into the sea of people.

He sits down at the library table nervously. Zach and Justin were pains in the ass so he can only imagine what Jeff will do.

The jock slumps into the chair across from him, carelessly dropping his bag to the ground and Clay finds himself growling, “Whatever you have planned, don’t you dare.”

Jeff looks at him innocently with those big, brown eyes, “Planned?”

He huffs, not looking to play, “You know.”

A laugh, “I’m pretty sure I don’t and what’s why I’m here. You are the tutor, teach me!”

“No tricks?” He doesn’t really believe Jeff. This whole thing is something he’d come up with for fun.

“Tricks? You seem paranoid. What happened?”

Jeff sounds truly confused and he relaxes. Maybe he is overreacting. “Zach and Justin were being stupid. I thought you were in on it.”

“Being stupid how?”

He looks around quickly to make sure no one can hear and then lowers his voice just in case to whisper, “They were being teases.”

Jeff shakes his head. “Oh boy, what did they do?”

“Zach was only wearing slides and Justin kicked off his sneakers in class.”

“And they know your opinion on it?”

He snorts, “Justin knows, moron. I told him they deserve to be tickled and he still did this.”

“He’s not our brightest but maybe Zach didn’t know.”

“He made full eye contact.”

“Yea that sounds guilty. What are you going to do?”

“I tutor Justin Saturday I think, maybe I’ll let him know what I think of his stunt then, he isn’t allowed to wear sneakers in my house anyway. And Zach. I’ll figure something out. I haven’t had a shot at his feet since that first time in your basement.”

“Tools?”

“I’ve got some new brushes and a few other toys to use on them. They deserve it anyway.”

“I’m sure they’ll see it that way.”

He snorts, “By the time I’m done with them they will.”

With a grin Jeff’s whole demeanor changes as he says, “Sounds like fun, guess I should sign up!”

For about a second he’s shocked, and then looks under the table, two empty slides sit on the floor in front of Jeff’s chair. He follows the legs to the chair next to him where a beautiful pair of bare feet are propped up, one leg bent at the knee showing off a bare sole, across the cream colored sole is written, Happy Birthday! He wonders how badly it tickled to write that on and finds himself disappointed he missed it.

As if reading his mind Jeff fills in, “The sharpies was a bitch to use. I didn’t think you could tickle yourself but after all the pampering you’ve done on these puppies I don’t think it matters. Anyway, I had to go into the bathroom before I got here to do this and a damn near kicked the door putting it on!”

His mouth goes dry as he reaches for the foot, the talk of tickling making him desperately want some action himself. The attempt is thwarted when Jeff smirks and pulls his foot back.

“Sorry Clay, you get your presents later.”

His mouth goes dry as he tries to wrap his head around what just happened. Jeff continues talking.

“I know your birthday isn’t today. Sunday right? But today my parents are out tonight so you’re coming over like 5:30. And don’t be early. We need some time to get ready. The back door will be open so just come in when you get here but don’t you dare come down those stairs until 5:30 unless one of us texts you, I know you like being early.”

“Thank you.” His voice is harsh, rough. He feels a little guilty for being annoyed with the other two earlier.

“Don’t say thanks to me, Justin had the idea. I just told him when it was and then provided the place, well and a pair of feet. Poor Zachy isn’t too happy but Justin gave him the puppy dog eyes and he’s never been able to resist them.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just wait till you see everything. Man I can’t wait, this is going to be great! In the meantime though, I do have the trig test coming up and I am super going to fail if you don’t help me.”

He shakes his head and tries to clear it but is only able to pull himself back when Jeff slips his feet from the chair and puts the temptations away.

Later that night, he arrives at Jeff’s house. He’s fifteen minutes early, which isn’t too bad considering he’s been thinking about this non-stop since the library. Letting himself in, he takes a seat on the couch and tries not to literally die as he waits. The minutes seem to move excruciatingly slowly but he finally gets a text to come down.

At the bottom of the stairs, the room opens up and he’s able to see the trio sitting on the couch. Their backs are to him but Justin, who’s on one end, twists around and says, “We’d come wish you a happy birthday but that would be a little hard.”

“What are you-” He rounds the piece of furniture and answers his own question. The coffee table is pulled up to the couch. Six socked feet rest on it. The socks have interesting designs on them making them look like wrapping paper while the ankles are tied up with ribbon into three big bows.

“Happy Birthday!” Three voices chorus together and six sets of toes flex as if also wishing him the same.

He stands there, shocked, until Justin prompts, “Well c’mon. We know what teases get.”

Taking a breath, he shakes himself and says, “This might be the best present ever. Three naughty jock boys all in need of a good punishment! After all we do know what teases get; they get tickles!”

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle Part 6

Monty pauses in the locker room, he’s just finished a post practice shower but he can’t help stopping to look at his toes as he wiggles them. It’s stupid, and gay, but the past week, he’s thought more about his feet than ever, and more about tickling.

Fucking Justin.

This is his fault.

The few seconds Justin had tickled his feet were- nice?

Gay.

He can hear his father saying it in the back of his head. Well, it’s nicer than what his dad is saying and yet, it was? He doesn’t remember being tickled as a kid. If anyone did it, it would have been Abuelo who died when he was four. Sure, he knew it was something that happened. He even knew a lot about it. Justin was incurably ticklish, he knew that before tickling him senseless. He also knows Bryce is ticklish and that the topic is strictly off limits, and he only knows it from a few drunk girlfriends who tickled Bryce and then talked about it. Jeff is ticklish and has engaged in tickle fights in front of them with Leila.

There’s also some weird rumor going around about Clay Jensen and tickling and he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that is all about.

So yea, Monty knows about tickling. Probably knows more about how ticklish the guys are than most people know about their friends just cause he listens but he’s never thought of himself engaging in it or being ticklish. Justin was… gentle. It tickled and was annoying and if Justin ever said something, Monty would deny it and make good on his threat, but…

“If you think any harder, you’ll burn a hole in the floor.”

He looks up and Diego takes a seat next to him, freshly showered and dressed, probably waiting on him for a ride.

“Yea,” he replies, slipping his feet in a pair of slides and hauling his bag up. He can’t help noticing Diego’s feet dressed similarly and sneaking peeks at them.

Apparently he isn’t very subtle though cause when they get in the car and drive out of the lot Diego says, “So feet?”

His brain short circuits and he babbles for a moment before Diego says, “I kind of saw you checking mine out. It’s cool. Just surprised me.”

Collecting himself, he scoffs and says, “I’m not. And that’s gay.”

They stop at a red light and Diego, son a bitch that he is, actually puts his feet up on the dashboard and Monty tries not to look, but he can’t help it.

The idiot moves them when the light changes and prompts, “Nothing wrong with gay. So, when did you find out?”

Monty grunts but Diego is persistent if nothing else and at the next red light they are back up on the dash.

“Week ago. Bryce’s party.”

“Cool. So when we get back to my place, what do you want to do? Is this a worship thing? Or do you just want to look at them? You tell me.”

“Wha-”

Diego offers a smile, the same one that has girls swoon for him and says, “You didn’t think I’d make you figure this all out on your own did you?”

He did. Not necessarily because of Diego but cause he usually assumes he’ll have to figure anything out on his own. Still, Diego’s offer is… nice? Monty wouldn’t trust anyone else but Diego? Diego he can trust.

“Tickling?”

He’s mortified to actually say it. Hearing it spoken out loud instead of in his head is somehow utterly humiliating and immediately his jaw snaps shut, almost biting his tongue literally.

Diego’s feet rub together awkwardly and Monty can’t help but think how cute they are doing that, dark brown tops sliding past a lighter mocha colored bottoms - fuck-

“Shit. Well I guess I did volunteer. Just don’t be mad if I kick you.”

“I-” his voice cracks and he flushes again and then mutters.

“I didn’t catch that.” Diego says.

Monty almost snaps at him for making him repeat it but he didn’t say it very loud… for a good reason… he tries again.

“I want you to tickle me.”

“Oh…” There’s a moment of awkwardness before Diego recovers the situation and says with a cheeky smirk, “Well, I will be mad at you if you kick me.”

Monty chuckles, it’s nervous, but his heart is pounding. They arrive at Diego’s and go in. Shoes off at the door has always been a rule in the Torres house. It always did… something to Monty, but he never really understood the rush of butterflies. Now he guesses he has his answer. Fucking Justin.

They have the house to themselves for at least an hour before Diego’s mom gets back and Diego wastes no time bringing Monty to his bedroom in the back of the little house.

It’s familiar enough territory except that when they get in, Diego pushes him back on a bed and Monty can’t help quipping, “I hope you don’t treat the ladies like this when you bring them around.”

Diego, now at his feet, gives him another smirk and says, “Usually they get to tickle me, it’s nice to be on the giving end.”

Monty’s brain can’t exactly figure out what to do with that information, he can see Diego’s feet, beautiful-

An iron grip tightens around an ankle as Diego says, “Eyes over here, Romeo.”

Monty’s eyes slide up to his best friend’s face. Diego looks confident as he says, “I’m going to tickle the crap out of you, and I’m not going to stop unless you give me a safe word, better figure out what that is now.”

“I don’t need a safe word.” He fires back. It’s fucking tickling. It’s-

Dull nails scrap across his sole and he howls with immediate laughter. The feeling is indescribable. When Justin did it, it was light, easy, fun.

This is ruthless and Monty’s body moves on its own trying to escape the tickling. Diego keeps it up for a minute, but to Monty it feels like an eternity before he stops and says, “So want to reevaluate that comment?”

Monty grumbles and says, “Football.”

Diego gives a crooked grin and says, “Alright. So I’m going to start up again and I won’t stop till you say ‘football’.”

Monty nods, his toes curling in anticipation but Diego doesn’t give him much time cause the other teen puts his ankles in a head lock and lays into them.

Starting at the heels, the Dominican scrapes his dull nails at the skin, and fuck is it effective! Monty’s feet squirm all over in vain attempts to get out but there’s no escape to be had. Diego’s grip is too solid and the other boy says, “Is this what the tough guy wanted? Someone to take control of his big feet and tickle him like a little boy?”

And fuck, that is somehow the hottest thing Monty has ever heard.

After several more minutes, Diego pauses for a moment and says, “Is this okay?”

He nods, toes curled but says, “Can you uh, do the dirty talk again?”

Diego pauses for a moment, obviously surprised and then says, “Is there anything you want me to say?”

Monty feels his face heating up even more and replies, “I just- I dunno I-.” It’s hot but he isn’t exactly sure what it is hot.

Diego gives him a bemused look and Monty looks away and says, “Forget it. It was gay as fuck anyway.”

“Hey.” Diego scolds. His voice is firm, commanding which prompts Monty to look back at him, “That’s your dad talking. Ignore him. Do what you want. And if it’s a little gay, I don’t mind.”

Monty is stunned and Diego continues.

“So if you want your dirty talk, you’ll get it.”

The stunned silence continues but this time, it’s a warm feeling along with it. Monty- no one has ever given him the choice to do what he wants.

Diego doesn’t let him dwell on it too long though because before long, his ankles are back in the headlock and the tickling resumes. This time, Diego walks his fingers around Monty’s soles in random patterns. The ticking is little more than pokes here and there and Monty is mostly giggling. He’s confused until Diego says in a low, sultry voice, “You wanted to go pro? On these feet? These feet only serve the purpose of getting tickled while you laugh your pretty head off.”

Fuck. It’s goofy and over the top and said in the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

Diego is on a roll now with the dirty talk and says, “I think these big feet have always known they deserved this.”

Monty’s head is tossed back and tears have started to prick the corners of his eyes but Diego doesn’t stop. In fact, the other teen is ruthless, his dull nails destroy Monty and Monty… loves every second of it.

He lets Diego keep going as the other boy changes to different tactics, each one new and exciting but Monty is running out of breath and has to call out “football” between laughs.

Diego stops and lets him rest, after several moments, the other teen says, “So, is there anything else you want to do?”

Monty frowns trying to think when he again catches sight of Diego’s own handsome pair. “Think I can have a try at yours?”

Diego’s eyes widen and Monty pushes, “You are supposed to be helping me experiment.”

With a wry smile Diego replies, “You sure know how to get what you want. Switch with me.”

Monty ends up crouched on the floor with Diego’s feet within easy reach. Tentatively, he reaches forward and lays a hand on each ankle. His fingers trace along the tops, surprised by how warm and smooth they are. A glance up at Diego shows the other teen has a grin on his face, nervous for the first time, instead of cocky. Monty thinks he likes it and decides to really fuck with his friend.

“You told me Dominicans don’t play football. Maybe because their feet are too ticklish?”

There’s the obvious truth that Monty’s feet are super ticklish as well and it has nothing to do but the nervous laugh Diego gives makes him even cuter and Monty can’t resist digging into the meaty soles.

As much as he liked being tickled, he finds he enjoys doing it at least as much. Diego’s feet squirming under his fingers and there’s a power trip to it. He felt it with Justin, but it’s even stronger here and he can’t resist teasing, “Yep, ticklish Dominican feet definitely keep them from playing football.”

“FuAHahCKOAHahFF!”

The response has him laughing as he goes in deeper before pausing and asking, “Do you mind if I uhh amp it up?”

Diego pants, “Amp up the tickling? It can get worse?”

“Probably.”

Diego waves a hand motioning for Monty to go and bringing the brown foot up to his face, he laps at the arch. Diego squeals and Monty is satisfied with continuing. The warm skin under his fingers felt amazing, it’s even better under his tongue. After giving both feet a good tongue bath, he nibbles at the sides, provoking Diego to break free and Monty narrowly avoids a kick to the jaw.

Smirking, he says, “Your feet are stupid ticklish.”

Diego, seizing the freedom of his feet, pulls them back and says, “You might be stupid for tickling them.” There’s a levity to his voice so Monty takes no offense and smirks harder when Diego gripes, “I need another shower,” Reaching into his bag, he pulls out a towel and starts wiping his feet off and Monty can’t help but think the sight is hot as well. Diego’s feet glistening with his saliva, being toweled dry, Diego’s soft giggles indicating a level of phantom tickles remaining. Actually… he can’t help thinking Diego is pretty good looking.

He tries to drown that thought out by concentrating on the warm, carmel soles but that really doesn’t help.

“So, how was it?”

“Huh?”

“The experiment. How was it? Mission accomplished?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say yes, but just as he opens his mouth to say so, he clamps it shut. If he says yes, does he lose Diego’s feet? He’s not sure he’s ready to give them up. He’s only tickled them once- and if he says yes, will Diego ever tickle him again? He would hate for this to be a one and done thing.

“I dunno. I’ll probably want to- experiment with a few other things.”

Diego raises an eyebrow and gets down on the floor, closer to Monty than friends usually sit.

“You know this doesn’t have to be a one and done thing right? Even if you did accomplish everything, we could do this again sometime.”

Monty’s mouth is dry as he asks, “Promise?”

Diego nods and says cheekily, “I need payback after all, that was some bullshit.”

For a second, Monty thinks he feels something but the door opens and Mrs. Torres announces, “I’m home!”

They pull apart and Diego clears his throat, Monty looks away, accidentally at Diego’s feet, toes curled cutely.

“In here. Can Monty stay for dinner?”

“Monty’s here? Of course he can!”

Diego stands up and offers Monty a hand, hauling him to his feet a moment later and there’s a silent agreement that a lot more needs to be said… but it can wait.

[boytickler35]

Teen Wolf Tickle Monster

“We’ve been out here for forty minutes and seen nothing, let's go back while it’s still light out.”

“Just a few more minutes, I’m sure something is out here.”

“Which brings us back to the all important question of why are we out here looking for it!”

Scott looks at him with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes and replies, “It could be dangerous.”

“All the more reason to not go looking for it!”

“But someone could get hurt.”

“And right now we’re acting like horror movie characters who want to die.”

“See? Even Isaac is on my side.”

A snort, “I’m on any side that doesn’t involve looking for potential monsters.”

Scott pauses at the mouth of a cave and says, “I really just have a bad feeling. I’ll check out this cave and then we can head back.”

As the other boy squeezes past the rocks into the mouth Stiles replies, “This is like going into the proverbial graveyard Scott. Let’s leave before we find anything.”

Isaac chimes in helpfully, “I’ve been enjoying nothing trying to kill me for a few weeks.”

Not dissuaded, Scott disappears into the blackness and he calls after the other boy, “If you’re not out in five minutes we’re leaving.”

A moment of silence and he asks, “Do you feel anything?”

Isaac shrugs, “No but Scott is better at this than me anyway.”

He huffs and taps his foot impatiently, checking the time on his phone and grumbling about it being dark before they get back. Isaac helpfully replies he’ll hold his hand and keep him from getting lost.

A yell from in the cave gets his heart pounding and Isaac is already sliding into the cave.

“Scott?” They yell in unison. He squeezes in after Isaac.

It’s surprisingly not pitch black, dark sure, but not as much as it should be. A hand on his shoulder and he can make out the length of Isaac’s arm pointing towards a faint glow.

Wordlessly they continue on, afraid of what they’ll find.

It gets brighter and brighter and they can hear sounds from further in. It isn’t clear what until they’re closer and then it doesn’t make any sense.

Laughter.

He glances at Isaac in the semi light who shrugs and they keep going, the tunnel opens into a large cavern the light source from early revealed to be a glowing pool of water. The laughter persists, Scott’s he’d know it anywhere.

Next to him Isaac whispers a soft, “Damn.”

Damn is about right Scott is being held up by several long, thick tentacles coming from the pool of water. They don’t seem to be doing anything, just waving him around a toy. Laughter bubbles out of Scott not all the time but consistently.

“What is that?” Isaac sounds as confused as he feels.

“I have no idea.” And then he fishes out his phone, “But I might be able to find out.” He flicks it on and pulls up the semi translated Bestiary. “Keep it busy.”

Isaac looks over and replies dryly, “Scott seems to be doing that on his own.”

“GuEHAheysHeHELP!”

He looks up to see Scott looking at them and apparently clueing...whatever that thing is in on them being there. Great.

With a heavy sigh Isaac replies, “I’ll keep it busy.”

A long thick tentacle comes for them and Isaac swats it away moving out into the cavern.

He turns his attention back to the pages, skimming through them as fast as he can, Kenima, no; were-beast, no: ghoul, no-

“BHEHeCahahrEhafulItSthahapSYoHouRpOwers!”

“What?”

Huh, stops powers, that narrows this down a little.

“OooF!”

He looks back to see Isaac, not as a wolf...no fuzzy sideburns.

“It stops your powers Isaac.” He tries to keep the exasperation out of his voice as Isaac tries to dodge the tentacles swinging at him.

“Hurry up Stiles.” Isaac sounds a little winded but he doesn’t have time to look up.

“Give me details, what can it do.”

“How many tentacled monsters are in there?” Now the other boy sounds frustrated.

“There’re about ten. Give me details!” He risks a glance up but is relieved to find Isaac managing to stay one step ahead of the tentacles that keep reaching for him. No wonder he sounds tired, that probably sucks.

Isaac grumbles but Scott laughs something out but it takes him several moments to figure it out. When he does it explains a lot and also basically nothing.

Tickling.

Weird but that should narrow it down a little. How many things in here can tickle and stop powers, and has tentacles?

Turns out more than one which is frustrating.

“WahHAtchOuAHuT!”

Scott yells something Stiles’s brain takes a moment to unscramble into ‘watch out’ which is followed by a yelp and turns to see Isaac, flat on his ass, trying to scramble away from a tentacle.

“What the hell Scott? Why did it throw your shoe at me!?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and replies, “Probably cause it can. Get up, Isaac.”

Too late for that. One of the tentacles has already grabbed Isaac and hoisted him off the ground. Well shit. This just got harder.

“Hey leave my sneakers on, I need those! And that’s my favorite shirt!”

He looks up to see Isaac getting stripped by the monster, socks, sneakers and shirt are flung carelessly.

“Stiles what is this thing!”

Scott chimes in, apparently getting a break, his breathing is ragged but he isn’t laughing so it’s easier to understand, “It’s a tickle monster.”

“So a liquid that blocks shapeshifting and a tickle monster.” He muses as he searches through another few pages. “It can’t be that dangerous right? It’s just tickling.”

Apparently Isaac in no way wants to be tickled and is squirming a hell of a lot, grunting and trying to get free but with no success. He does interrupt his apparently pointless efforts to say, “I really don’t want to find out.”

He sounds panicked and Stile can’t help but snipe, “Is the big bad wolf afraid of a little tickling?”

“I don’t see you coming out.”

“My talents lie elsewhere, like reading.”

If Isaac was going to reply it’s cut off by a squeak and then giggles. Scott follows a moment later, he glances up to see dozens of slimmer tentacles, maybe the thickness of pencils, rising from the pool, glistening in the bioluminescent. He can’t say it isn’t entertaining to watch Scott and Isaac, both of who can pick up cars if they want, laughing like little boys. He’s glad it isn’t him, but part of him can’t help but feel a little vindication. He’s spent the better part of a year watching his best friend get to do amazing things and drag him along for all the terror, it’s nice to watch him helpless but probably safe.

He can see the tentacle dragging themselves along Scott’s upper body and poking into his belly button and under his arms, meanwhile the monster doesn’t seem to like Isaac much and is holding him upside down while a couple of the little tentacles floss between his toes. Both are completely helpless against it, laughing madly and trying to talk, probably telling him to hurry up.

He can’t watch forever though, and turns back to his phone skimming the passages. Before finally finding a promising one:

Monstrum Titillationem: Shape and size will vary ranging from humanoid to squid like, insectoid to gelatinous. Not dangerous but not pleasant, these creatures are rather peculiar, spending long amounts of time hibernating only to wake up hungry. All varieties seem to feed on laughter but it appears that most find supernatural beings satisfying. They will tickle to produce the laughter, but werekin, banshees, kanima, and all other varieties, do not produce satisfying laughter to them. The Monstrum Titillationem secretes a chemical substance that prevents supernatural beings from accessing their power, trapping them in their human forms. The ooze appears to have the effect of softening and moisturizing skin and removing calluses, leaving it more susceptible to the touch. According to our observations, it will secrete the ooze on both humans and non humans but in vastly different quantities, keeping up a continual amount of it on non humans but only administering once to humans.

We suspect the production of this ooze consumes as much energy as the laughter feeds it causing these meals to not be satisfying. It can prove lethal to these beings as it may continue to try feeding on them but not gain enough nutrients to sustain itself and cause the subject being tickled to perish for want of water. We have tried gaining access to this ooze but have found ourselves unable to as it does not secrete enough against humans for us to justify the risk of collecting it.

“STIHhIheLeS!”

He groans. Of course Scott would find something like this and drag him and Isaac along for the ride. He looks down at his track sneakers, wiggling his toes in them. Honestly, the stuff he does for Scott.

He tugs off both sneakers and then his socks, balling them up in the sneakers and sets his phone down, he pulls off his shirt too and sets it over the top, he isn’t searching through a cave for them later.

The ground is surprisingly soft underfoot, sandy and cool. He moves towards the pool of water, ignoring the other two boys yelling at him, or trying at least. The monster doesn’t lunge for him and he thinks that maybe it’s confused as to what he’s doing, which is fair cause honestly, same. He takes a seat on the sand, puts his feet out in front of him and yells,

“Come and get it!”

It doesn’t need more invitation, several tentacles surge from the pool of water and there’s no going back. They scoop him up right away and are surprisingly warm to the touch.

And wet. It must be the ooze the bestiary talked about. Thin tentacles come up to join the big ones, they start sliding across his body, covering it in the ooze and getting him to giggle. He hasn’t been tickled in a long time, not since before Mom died when she and Dad would gang up on him and hold him down and tickle him silly.

This isn’t like that at all, the tentacles tickle like mad, but the ooze… he can feel it warming his skin and he thinks he can feel his nerve endings coming to the surface in response! Several appendages start tickling in earnest once his whole upper body is covered in the stuff. Watching it done to Scott and Isaac was one thing, experiencing it is something else. The tentacles rove over his chest and belly, sides, sometimes even into his underarms.

It feels like an eternity of it, the tentacles are like fingers, able to target the nooks and crannies of his body with devastating effects and he finds himself tearing up from the overload. He thinks it’s getting worse too. His sides were never ticklish, not when he was little, and not as he got older but now they are. He can’t tell if it’s his imagination or not.

It seems like the tentacles take time to tickle every rib, make as many passes over his belly and sometimes poke into his belly button, and some of the thicker one even manage to squeeze his sides a few times. With his arms wrapped together over his head, he can’t even try to protect himself even though his body is struggling to try.

And then there’s a shift. He’s been so distracted by what was happening above his waist, he didn’t realize his feet have been standing on one very thick tentacle, with the ooze coating his soles and getting between his toes and slowly warming them the same as the rest of his body suffered through tickling.

Apparently this monster is now ready to start in with them and he’s been dreading this moment since he stripped off his socks and sneakers. He knows his feet are ticklish, they always were when he was a kid but even now as a teen, he’s accidently tickled himself before, walking barefoot on grass or on a carpet at Scott’s house.

There’s a squelching noise as the tentacles shift underfoot and he realizes with a mixture of repulsion and fear that his feet are warm, wet, and soon to be very tickled.

The good thing is that the anticipation doesn’t last long, the bad thing is it’s because the tickling starts. The tentacles drag across his soles but the worst is when they floss between his toes, pushing into the crevices between them no matter how he tries to keep them out.

He laughs like a mad man. Scott and Isaac are too.

He thinks the monster is learning too, it makes more passes between his toes and into his belly button where he’s most ticklish. It’s a frightening thought, that the longer this goes on, the more efficient a tickler the monster becomes. That isn’t a comforting thought but it’s one of the few that penetrates his head.

It feels like forever but then, all of a sudden, the tickling stops, and slowly he’s lowered to the ground, deposited on the sand, panting, his feet tingling, his whole body actually still tingling. For a few moments, he’s content to lie on the sand, facing the cavern’s ceiling.

Tickling sucks. That was miserable and he’s never, as long as he lives, getting tickled again. If Scott manages to find one of these again, he’d better hope he gets lucky because no way

Stiles is bailing him out again.

“Scott. I hate you.”

Maybe the most intelligent thing Isaac has ever said. “I second that.”

He props himself up on his elbows to look around. Isaac is still flat on his back, Scott is up like him. Both of their feet are pointed in his direction and both are glistening in the light, as is Scott’s upper body.

“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.” Scott tries to defend himself but Isaac shuts him down right away.

“Really? Then you can come back here and play with it again. Alone.”

Stiles pulls himself into a sitting position and pulls a foot up to examine his sole. A sickening thought occurring to him.

Scott is still trying in vain to deflect the blame. “I’m not saying I’d come back. Just that wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

“It didn’t have to be anything. Next time you get a feeling, ignore it.”

He reaches out and pokes his sole, shivering a little as he does. Reaching out, he gives it a more through rub down no matter how much it sucks. Tickling isn’t exactly the right word, but it isn’t as far from it as he wants. He shivers again from the sensation. If these were any hands other than his own, he’d be laughing and that thought doesn’t make him happy. The foot is also smooth and soft, any dead or rough skin is gone, leaving them softer than before.

He looks at his hands, his palms had been growing calluses from his lacrosse stick but those aren’t nearly as hard as before and his hands didn’t even get a lot of the ooze on it. He stands up in time for Isaac to comment.

“Stiles agrees with me.”

He looks up in time to see Isaac look at him expectantly.

“Probably. Scottie, let me see your hands.”

He grabs the hands and checks them. Same deal.

“This ooze might have a permanent effect. It definitely has a long term one.”

It’s almost funny to watch the other two grab their own feet and look at them. It would be, if he hadn't just done it himself. Returning to pull his clothes back on he announces,

“Scott? Next time you have a feeling, Ignore it.”

His friend is blushed under his tan but nods, finally agreeing this is his fault.

They leave the cave and head home. He explains on the way what the bestiary said about the monster and then he and Isaac spend most of the time reminding Scott this is all his fault. It’s actually kind of funny and for once he feels a bond with Isaac, dealing with Scott together with someone will do that, he guesses.

Later that night, he wonders if he can convince Isaac to hold Scott down and tickle him a bit to see if the ooze really is permanent. If he phrases it as for science he probably can and it might be fun. He looks down at his feet and rubs them absently against the thin rug and shivers a little, quickly pulling them back. He rests one leg on his knee to examine his sole again. He didn’t exactly hate the tickling all things considering, it was intense, but being able to open up and laugh for no reason was pretty nice after all the running for his life.

He supposes maybe he could let Isaac or Scott test on him… maybe if he’s feeling generous. It could be fun.

[boytickler35]

Jedi Fallen Order: Ticklish Padawan

  Cal groans as he leans against the huge tree trunk. He puts the electro-binoculars up to his face and looks down at the imperial outpost below. Nothing’s happened for hours and despite constantly reminding himself that a Jedi is patient, he’s beginning to get restless and maybe a little bored. One of Saw Gerrera’s people suggested checking out this place, intel apparently said they had a lot of recent wookie warrior captives and it may give a lead to Tarfful’s whereabouts. 

He’s starting to doubt that intel now because so far this outpost seems to exist only to harvest the apparently extremely explosive sap. At the very least that’s the only thing he’s seen them do and it’s mind numbing. Playing with something so explosive should at least be more interesting than it is.

Apparently BD agrees because for the past few hours the little droid has paced the branch. For a while he was challenging some alarmingly large beetles. That at least was kind of funny to watch but then the droid moved on to stepping on as many leaves as it could find, apparently the crunch was satisfying. It was less amusing but only because the droid looked at him after each one with a certain smugness that was vaguely annoying.

He’s been half meditating and half day dreaming for a while now, checking once in a while but he’s been distracted. He’s pulled too by something nudges against the bottom of his foot. He flinches and pulls it away but when the same thing happens to the other, he looks down and sees BD1 nudging his foot and a grin, not related to the tickling breaks out on it.

    "Cut it out Buddy."

    The little droid buzzes, beeps, and whirls at him, concerned at his reaction apparently and he chuckles. "No problems, I'm working as intended, I promise."

    More beeps and he laughs again. "It’s some weird thing we fleshy guys have. It's called being ticklish."

    Another series of beeps and he replies, "No, it's just something silly we do."

    More noises and he says, "It's sort of like...think of it like when you got into Greez's repair kit and got shocked by one of his electro welders. Remember you told me it got your circuits feeling fuzzy? It's like that, we feel all fuzzy on that place."

    BD1's reply leads him to think a moment before saying, "I mean...our feet, sides, underarms, it depends on the person."

    An excited trill from the droid presents him with a choice, he’s bored, extremely, but is he this bored? Maybe, he could very well have grown out of it. "I don't know buddy...it's been a long time, I'm not really suRE! Hey cut it ouHouT."

Apparently not willing to take a wishy-washy answer the droid helped himself, bumping his body up against the Jedi's socked foot, with or without permission.

    Cal pulls his leg back but that just leads to the little droid targeting the other and nuzzling up against it in a surprisingly tickly way.

    "BDhEhEhEHe! STAhAp!" The little droid manages to keep up his persistent attack and the young Jedi finds himself surprised by the tenacity of his partner.

    It isn't until he grabs the droid with both hands and lifts him up that he manages to stop the droid who warbles at him in confusion.

    "Laughter doesn't mean I'm enjoying it." His voice is very dry, like Master Taro's before coffee.

    A few curious beeps from the droid and Cal sighs, “Is it really that fascinating to you?” He can’t understand it but then again, droids are often interested in weird things.

    Another series of warbles and beeps and Cal replies teasingly, “I dunno BD, I might be pretty ticklish, I don’t know if I want you playing around.”

    Apparently not understanding the teasing BD makes a sad trilling sound and hangs its head and Cal sighs, “Relax buddy, I was kidding. Here.” Setting the little droid down and then pulling off his socks. He hesitates for a moment and it occurs to him that he’s seventeen and probably should feel a little more embarrassed about this.

    He balls the socks up and shoves them in his boot. The whole time the little droid watches him in curious silence. When he extends his legs, face as red as his hair he mumbles. "Go on and have your fun."

    The droid looks at his feet and then back at him and then lets out an excited warble and hops over to them, Cal thinks he hears the droid purring, and then nuzzles up against them.

He's not sure when he became so sensitive, if it's a by-product of reconnecting with the Force or if he's always been this bad, and that's so much more embarrassing to think about lie that, but whatever the cause, the smooth, metallic body, cool against his warm feet, is extremely effective.

So much so that he nearly kicks the droid and sends him off the tree...which would be bad, very bad since without BD1 he can't find what Master Cordova is trying to lead him too.

Usually he'd say he'd miss the droid but right ow BD1 seems intent on making him not feel that.

Now he's just worried about damaging the little machine but rather than stop, the droid manages to step it up, finding a way to tickle even more by sticking out his hacky spinny droid part which he uses to poke at Cal's feet, getting more laughter.

    To add insult to injury the droid beeps a few times and when his tickled brain pieces the droid speech together he blushes deeper and laughs out, "TWhehArP!IhEHECAhaheNStheheHEillCrhAhAshYohohU!"

    It's an empty threat but one he makes anyway and the smugness of the droids next chatter makes him not not feel bad for it but he's too busy laughing and also making sure he doesn't move too far from the center of the branch he's perched on.

Apparently though, besides having a surprisingly sassy program built up somewhere, BD is also pretty creative because Cal suddenly feels a very tickly shock shoot though his foot and a glance through his tears confirms the little pest is actually shocking his foot with what he can only assume is a very low voltage and it serves to not only tickle him itself, but also senstizes his feet which they really don't need.

    Of course that just pleases the little droid all the more and he continues his assault. Cal bites his lips but the shocks leave his feet feeling tingly which means that the pokes and prods mess with him even more.

    It's then that the little droid gets a new, and for Cal, terrible idea and bends it's little head to use the antennas sticking off the top of his head. Alone they don't tickle as much but both of them trace over his soles at the same time messes with him.

Worse, BD takes the creativity to a new level and mixes nuzzling with bumping his head, either inadvertently or purposely mixing up the sensations between the antennas dragging across his soles and poking them.

    He very nearly kicks the droid off the branch again and one of the thin antennas accidentally slips between two of his toes. He has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep the laughter in. Once again the little droid proves he's much too clever for his own good, or more importantly Cal's, because after that, the droid abandons using his antennas and switches back to his original tool of Cal's voluntary humiliation.

However rather than just random pokes, the droid seems to have learned and goes right for his toes, or in this case between them and Cal nearly faints from how much is tickles and how much he can't laugh. It borders on agonizing and he ends up pulling his feet back, carefully sheltering them from the adamant little machine which he scoops up, earning him some disappointed trilling.

    "Shh BD, you're going to give us away if you keep up."

    A cheeky trill comes back to him. Cal rolls his eyes and nudges him. "Yea, yea, I'm going to give us away."

    Another warble, more questioning this time and Cal's face flushes dark red. "Haven't you learned enough?"

    The reply makes him even redder. "Fine, we'll, we'll see about it when we get back."

The whistle is definitely smug as he sets the droid down to pull on his socks and boots. He reaches over to give his partner a nudge and replies, "You're lucky your cute ya know that?"

Another smug reply has him rolling his eyes. "Sure, sure. Just hope at the next workbench I don't decide to get some payback."

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle part 4

 

    When Clay answers the door after school there were a lot of things that wouldn’t have surprised him to see, someone delivering paperwork for his mom, a package, even Tony or Jeff dropping by for a visit. Of all of the possibilities, a very high Justin was not one he considered and the other boy pushes past him into the house and flops down on his couch.

    “What the fuck are you doing here?”

    “I need you to tickle the shit out of me.” He sounds tired, exhausted even.

    That doesn’t make him any more sympathetic, “What!”

    “You heard me. I need to laugh till I like, pass out.”

    Tempting but fuck this guy for coming in and thinking he can just demand whatever he wants. “Why the hell should I?”

    Justin toes of his sneakers right there and his socks are almost more hole than material. “Listen Jensen, I know you hate me and you know how ticklish I am, you totally like wrecked me last time, so think of it as revenge or whatever you need to just make me laugh.”

    He does hate Justin and that had been a lot of fun...plus those socks were doing a fantastic job of reminding him that Justin has pretty nice feet, the rosy color to them, surprisingly soft, and very, very ticklish.

    Right now they also stink...or maybe Justin in general stinks.

    “I’m not doing anything until you take a bath or something, you reek.”

    He can’t deny that he's a little pleased by Justin turning a little red, serves him right.

    It isn’t hard to corral him into the bathroom and hand him a towel. He leaves and sits for a minute lost in thought until he hears the water turn on and that spurs him to action. If Justin is literally asking for it, he needs to deliver! It doesn’t take him too long to get some things together, usually the only tool he needs are his hands...maybe his tongue too. Today though he’s pulling all the stops, Justin is going to get exactly what he wants.

    By the time the bathroom door opens a few minutes later, Clay has everything he needs all safely tucked under his bed and out of sight, surprise is the name of the game. 

    He calls out to Justin to come in and when he does Clay takes stock of him. He’s changed, the socks he’s wearing now don’t have holes in them, or maybe just not as many, while he’s still wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt but definitely new ones. He’s happy to find he can’t smell him either. 

    He directs Justin to lay on the bed and sets about strapping him in. Tony helped him get enough velcro and rope for straps which he’s excited to try out and sets Justin up in a Y with his arms to the corners and feet together to the center of the footboard. He’s never understood why people tie in an X, he wants the feet right next to each other so he can demolish both at the same time!

    He plans to do the same today but he has a few other tricks first and one of them is letting Justin stew in the bondage for a while. He’s surprised the other boy agreed to it so readily but he doesn’t stop to wonder about it and instead waits until the other boy speak.

    “Are you like, going to do anything? Or just keep looking at me like a piece of meat or something?”

    With that Clay chuckles and moves on to his first surprise by sitting across his waist and looking him in the eye. “How ticklish are you Justin?”

    He watches cheeks redden a bit as he gets his reply, “You already know.”

    Clay reaches back and pats a socked foot. He does it tenderly but he can’t tell if it’s to tease Justin or because he doesn’t want to damage the goods but either way he feels it flinch under his hand. “I know how ticklish these are, I want to know how ticklish the rest of you is.”

    Justin opens his mouth, then closes it, and then smirks, offering, “Why don’t you find out.”

    “Are you challenging me, little boy?”

    The smirk remains and Justin doesn’t reply other than that. He’ll take it as a yes then, good he likes a challenge.

    He reaches down and touches Justin’s belly with a lone finger, lightly and traces circles on it. The smirk starts quivering slightly at the corners of Justin’s mouth. Pleased, he steps it up, adding his other hand’s index finger two make for two. He watches as Justin’s resolve slips and wonders if it can even be called ‘resolve’ since Justin asked for this. He slowly adds another finger and then another until all ten are lazily moving around on the skin.

    “Does it tickle?”

    Justin shakes his head but obviously it does and they both know it.

    “So you won’t mind if I step it up a bit?”

    “NohOpe.”

    Clay smirks and stops for a moment, just long enough for Justin to be confused and when he opens his mouth to comment, Clay returns all ten tickling much harder and faster across the belly and moving onto the sides and farther up the chest. Justin bursts out laughing, not the deep, intense ones from when he got gang tickled in Jeff’s basement but laughter all the same. Clay keeps it up, enjoying the flat, muscular surface beneath his fingers and feeling the muscles contract all the way in as Justin sucks his belly in away from the tickling. He lets it work long enough to focus on the sides, counting Justin’s ribs out loud and then returns to the stomach, and then to the chest, and back to the sides. 

    He keeps it up for three minutes but he doesn’t want to exhaust the moron too quickly so he gives him a break after that. They don’t speak, Justin because he’s too busy sucking air in and Clay because there isn’t much to say.

    Once he’s sufficiently recovered, Clay attacks his armpits without any warning, teasing the rarely touched skin and despite the shirt as protection, Justin goes wild beneath him, bucking and laughing like a mad man.

    “Koochi-koo Justin. Does that tickle?”

    “FUhAHAHkYOhoU!”

    He can’t help but add in a bit of teasing, and from the response he feels justified in doing so.

    “That’s mean, you asked me to do this!”

    “AhAhAhASS!”

    “Well if that’s how you feel.”

    He steps it up, or rather down, moving from the hollows to the taut skin between the armpit’s hollow and Justin’s sides which somehow seems to drive him even more wild. 

    Clay pushes it a little farther before letting Justin take a few mouthfuls of water. The other boy manages to catch his breath and after the water seems totally refreshed but Clay gives him a little longer if only to tease him a little more.

    “So how am I doing? I mean your so ticklish I could blow and you’d giggle.”

    Justin rolls his eyes. “Yea, yea whatever Clay. Obviously you aren’t as great as you think cause I’m still conscience.”

    Clay raises an eyebrow and says, “Is that a challenge?”

    A smirk comes across Justin’s face as he says, “Well if I’m really that ticklish it isn’t.”

    “I’m going to make you eat those words.”

    “Yeah sure, do your worHEhAsT!” 

    Clay cuts him off by going after his sides this time, squeezing them light and fast from the top of his waist to the bottom of his ribs. It apparently proves devastating because it isn't long before Justin is squirming and giggling but it seems his old stubborn streak is back cause he refuses to laugh. No matter how hard Clay tries, and he tries pretty damn hard, he can't get a laugh out of Justin which sort of annoys him given that the other boy came to him. 

    Still, the challenge is sort of exciting so he amps it up again working on his belly again. By now the shirt has ridden up and exposed his smooth belly and belly button. That gives Clay an idea and he takes a deep breath and leans down, blowing a loud, wet raspberry. That gets closer to a laugh and Clay repeats again and then a third time.

    Unfortunately each gets less and less effective each time and when he pauses he's greeted by a smirking Justin again. 

    "You're breathing heavier than I am."

    "Shut up." He can't help but feel a little frustrated at the other boy for being so smug about this and at himself for not being able to get a laugh out of him despite him coming here and asking to be tickled silly.

    "You know you can just tickle my feet already." 

    Justin's abrupt comment jerks him from his thoughts and he looks the other boy in the face.

    "You're serious?"

    "Duh, it's what you want to do right?"

    "Are you high?" He can't fathom why else Justin would literally ask for this.

    "Also duh. I said I want to laugh till I pass out or like, get close. You obviously can't manage just using my upper body so you might as well move on to the main event or whatever."

    Clay bites back that he could totally manage to crack Justin without resorting to picking an easier target, or targets in this case but...well he does admit it'll be more fun to get his hands on Justin's feet. The internal debate doesn't last too long as he gets off Justin's waist and pulls his computer chair up to the foot of the bed.

    "So you're really asking me to tickle your feet?"

    Justin gives a little shrug and wiggles his toes instead of giving a verbal reply and Clay rolls his eyes. Well if the invitation is there, he might as well take it. Reaching out he runs his fingers along the tops of the socked feet, and then down the soles. They twitch a bit but Clay isn't really trying to tickle and the socks are sort of thick and shelter the feet from most of his touch. In fact, Clay's surprised that he can feel it at all through them but it only makes him more sure he can do what both of them want. The thought excites him as he reviews the pair of toys he managed to snag in preparation for this.

    "Umm I don't like that look in your eyes."

    "Too bad, you shouldn't have teased me!"

    He doesn't let Justin prepare himself and instead digs into the soles in front of him with fingernails, raking up and down and drinking in the laughter bubbling out of the other teen. It's gratifying he thinks but he can't help but add insult to injury and comments, "Guess you should have been a little smarter about taunting huh? And not dangled these ticklish thing in front of me when you obviously can't handle it."

    "AhAHAhASS!" 

    "Has anyone ever told you you get mouthy when you're being tickled?" He smirks as he switches from random scratching to more concentrated pokes at the center of Justin's arches which he knows are pretty sensitive. "You're lucky I don't mind, someone less kind than me might take offense to being called an ass."

    "FuHAhACKyohOhU!"

    "You just keep getting ruder and ruder. Someone ought to teach you some manner." He continues, getting between the toes a little but mostly saving them for the surprise he has in his bag. He also more generally rubs them and lets Justin relax a little before tickling madly for a few seconds, then rubbing, then more tickling.

    Naturally Justin doesn't appreciate it and the cursing gets louder.

    “You’re getting ruder. Maybe I should do something to help you be a little nicer.”

    He strips the socks off and is about to make another comment when his nose is assaulted by the smell of citrus and coconut oil, thick and heavy. He glances at Justin’s feet and finds them glossy, then looks over the feet at the teen whose cheeks are pinker than usual and he won’t meet Clay’s eyes.

    “Did you use my mom’s lotion?” 

    “Umm no?”

    “Dude how much did you use?”

    Justin doesn’t even bother to reply and Clay takes an experimental poke at them. Justin tries to tug his foot away on reflex but can’t and a look of vague horror comes over his face as his situation fully dawns on him.

    Clay can’t help but smirk at the mild panic. “Guess you should have thought this one out a little more huh?”

    “Go easy on me?”

    “Nope!” He practically sings the word. “You made a dumb decision and now you’re going to pay for it.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and lets his fingers roam the soft expanses. Justin’s feet are every bit as nice as he remembers them and now, fully clean. The lotion keeps them slick so his dull nails glide across them. “Guess you really wanted this though, and to think I had a bottle of baby oil I don’t even need now!”

    Justin howls with laughter and alternates between begging him to stop and threatening him if he continues. Clay of course keeps it up until he decides Justin needs a break and gets the first of his toys while he waits. While he lets Justin breath he teasingly tweaks his big toes and asks, “Seriously how do you walk on these things much less play a sport on them?”

    “Shut the fuck up Jensen, I can’t help it.”

    He laughs and then reaches under the bed and feels around until he finds what he wants. Pulling himself back up he smirks and Justin who’s watching him with big eyes.

    “What did you grab?”

    Clay holds up a bag of pipe cleaners. He read somewhere that they were a fun tickle toy and he planned to use them of Jeff originally but that was before he got such a willing volunteer.

    Color drains from his face as he asks, “What’re you planning to do with those?”

    Clay thinks the grin that comes to his face is probably pretty manic but he can’t help it as he slips the first pipe cleaner between Justin’s big toe and it’s neighbor. The reaction is immediate, his toes clench together and laughter bubbles out. He manages to floss between them despite the clenching and says, “If you want to keep it there that bad you can just ask.”

    “FuAAHAhaCK!”

    “Guess I should continue right? Since you’re enjoying it so much I mean.” 

    “NoHOhAhohAH!”

    “Well if you insist.” He grabs another and uses it on the other foot. “Must be murder, I can’t imagine feeling a couple hundred fuzzy fibers between my toes!”

    “CUhAHhAiTOuHoHHAt!”

    “OOhhh here’s an idea, I think from now on your basketball games should be played barefoot, with the floor covered in feathers! Imagine all you big tough jock boys playing that game. I’d even pay for a ticket!”

    “AhAHAsS!”

    He weaves the pipe cleans between the toes and then pulls them out, flosses between them, and generally makes Justin howl with laughter but eventually he pulls them out and offers Justi more water. After the boy swallows nearly half the bottle Clay pulls out the other toy, a sharpie and shows it to Justin. He curls his toes in reply.

    “Come on Clay don’t do that.”

    He upcaps it and brings it to rest against the ball of one of his feet. “Don’t worry I’ll scrub it off later, for a fee.”

    With that he starts doodling, first drawing a feather and then moving to the other foot to writes ticklish jock boy feet

    Justin howls the whole time and Clay can’t help but enjoy it. He continues, drawing a basketball...sort of and a net to go with it, then scribbles tenderfoot for Justin to read later, knowing that he’ll blush furiously when he does.

    He’s so engrossed in his work though he becomes aware that Justin isn’t even laughing anymore. He glances up and panics for a moment, wondering if he somehow killed the other boy but realizes Justin just out, a soft snore confirms that. With a snort he unties him and tosses a blanket over him haphazardly. 

    Two hours later he’s elbow deep in honors algebra when Justin finally wakes up. Well actually the moron might have been awake already because he’s alerted to Justin’s wakefulness by a sudden question startling him out of his focus.

    “What’s a tease?”

    With an annoyed sigh he spins his chair around to see Justin sitting up in bed, blanket pooled around his waist. He looks pretty alert too which is why Clay thinks he’s been up for at least a few minutes but he wasn’t aware Justin could stay quiet for so long.

    “Someone who teases.” It’s a stupid question so it deserves a stupid answer.

    “How was I teasing you?”

    “Huh?”

    “Before you went after my feet you told me I shouldn’t have teased you.”

    Clay blushes but tries to act like he isn’t. Justin’s voice is surprisingly totally innocent and curious, no hint of malice or mocking.

    “It’s what you were doing before.”

    Big puppy eyes meet his and he heaves a sigh.

    “You were doing stuff to draw attention to your feet, teasing me with them.”

    “And I deserved to be tickled for it?”

    “Yea, if you’re going to tease you deserve to be tickled.”

    “Why?”

    He opens his mouth and then closes it again and then opens it again and then says finally, “Because it means you want it to happen.”

    “So if I do this,” He slides his feet out from under the covers and hangs them off the foot of the bed, wiggling them tauntingly in front of him, “I deserve to be tickled for it?”

    “Yes.” He half expects the idiot to keep teasing him and earn himself another tickling but he adopts a thoughtful expression and pulls them back under the blanket.

    Justin stays a while longer sort of spacing out and Clay returns to his homework. Eventually he kicks the other boy out because his parents should be home soon but he can’t say he totally dislikes the other boy as much as he wants to. Justin...might be okay and that’s a sobering thought.

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle Part 3

    Justin hops up from his seat in glee, Zach and Jeff look on dumbstruck, and he wonders if he made the right play. Justin rips his other sock off and tickles his foot as he does it too. The dull nails on his newly bared flesh is murder and he almost kicks the bastard in the face...saying it was an accident would only be a partial lie, as he wonders about the wisdom of his decision.

    “Oh, man Jensen you’re fucking done! Seriously how are you so ticklish!”

    “Your feet are the same.”

    He gives Zach a dirty look and sticks his tongue out but Clay can feel the confidence rolling off him and he springs what he hopes is his trap.

    “Wait, Justin.”

    The other boy smirks at him, “Too bad Clay, you lost and now you’re going to pay!”

    He needs this worded right to convince Justin but he thinks he has it as he says, “Give me one more chance.”

    “Nope.” Justin chuckles as he says it and doesn't sound as mean as before, more excited, like a kid on Christmas or something.

    “I can make it worthwhile.”

    All three perk up and Justin frowns, “How?”

    He takes a deep breath and launches into the first part of his plan, “ I reset the timer and we go one last round with all the same rules but we go double or nothing, winner takes all and loser loses all. The winner keeps his prize but the loser takes Jeff’s place and gets gang tickled, for ten minutes instead of five.”

    Justin laughs, “What are you like, looking to make it worse on yourself?”

    Aware all of them are watching to see what he’ll do next, Clay replies,“Are you saying no to a chance for more revenge? Sounds like your scared. Is that it, the great Justin Foley scared of getting his little boy feet tickled?”

    Justin turns bright red and huffs, “You’re going down again Jensen and then your fucking done!”

    That was easy enough. They get back into position and Clay starts the timer feeling butterflies and knowing now he has to win. He goes about ten seconds like he has before, concentrating only on the soft feet under his hands but once that’s up he starts in with what he hopes is his key to winning...either that or he’s screwed and never going to live it down!

    “This must be torture for you Foley. Sitting there, taking all this tickling and knowing despite how tough you are, you’re going to lose and get a huge tickling.”

    “FuHAHAuCKYohOhoHOU!”

    “I guess it just means you’re not nearly as tough as you think you are, as everyone else thinks you are. All that basketball hasn’t toughened up your feet up at all, they’re even still in socks and getting demolished!”

    “IHEhEHAhEhEhAHeKIhEHAhAhahaHAllYoHoHOHO!”

    “Must be embarrassing knowing that no matter how much shit you talk, all someone would have to do is get your sneaker off and you’d be totally helpless. I bet they could get you to beg for just about anything!”

    “AhAhAHAAHASSHoHOHoHAhoLL!”

    “Is that the purpose for the big ass sneakers? Keeping these tender tootsies well protected so no one can tickle you into agreeing to something embarrassing?”

    “JEHEhEHEASeHEN!”

    “Well I’m sure whatever you would agree too isn’t as embarrassing as this, stuck there getting wrecked by me, knowing you’re going to lose, cause you will, I promise you that, and knowing it’s totally your fault for having such boyish feet.”

    Justin’s reply is too incomprehensible to even make out and his feet are squirming everywhere and not escaping at all.

    “After all, these feet are only getting more sensitive as I keep tickling them aren’t they? You can’t hold out much longer either can you?”

    He’d better not cause Clay checks his timer and he’d down to a minute left so he launches a full blitz on the toes scratching under them and between them and even on the tops of them. 

    “We could play this little piggy at this point and you’d be begging me to stop! I didn’t know a set of toes could be so ticklish! Just imagine what’ll happen to them when they’re bare after you lose this and totally at my mercy while you’re also getting tickled by these two? I mean what-”

    “CuHAhAHAhTIhEhEHEHiTOhoHOuT!” 

    Clay does immediately and smirks at the other boy as he stops the timer. The room is silent for a second until Clay speaks, “And the big, tough Justin Foley loses after all. Alright you two, get back here.”

    Jeff seems all too eager as his feet rejoin Justin’s on the table while his hand ruffles the boy’s hair, “Don’t feel too bad, Clay’s gotten pretty good at this.”

    Zach reluctantly joined them and he gets a chance to look at two pairs of bare feet. Jeff’s are as beautiful as always, the tan tops contrast with the pinkish bottoms, long toes that his fingers, nose, and tongue, fit between perfectly and Clay’s long since memorized every wrinkle on them and knows exactly which ones line up with his most ticklish parts.

    Zach’s are different. Color wise his tops are also tan, a different shade from Jeff’s but still tan. The bottoms though are cream colored and if he didn’t hate Zach so much, he might even admit they were kind of charming, handsome even. The toes are long too but the feet are much wider and longer too.

    He leaves Justin’s socks on and looks at the boy pointedly who is frowning at his own feet with a strange expression. Half of it is surprise like he can’t figure out how he lost but the other half almost seems like he’s mentally accusing them of betraying him. In either case Clay is just happy the asshole is about to get what he deserves.

    He has them put their feet out again, starts the timer, puts all six feet in a headlock and digs into them hard. It astounds him how strange it feels under his fingers, the difference between the soft, smooth skin of the bare feet to fuzzy cotton covering Justin’s feet is somehow thrilling. He learns which feet are Zach’s as opposed to Jeff’s without looking based on feeling of the sole. Both are soft and smooth but Jeff’s are muscular under the skin, he can feel the power of them while Zach’s have a doughy consistency to them, a lot more give when he pushes the skin in and it’s almost springy with how it bounces back.

    The trio howl with laughter as they squirm, none of them really trying to get away which is good because the occasional tugs towards them nearly break his grip a few times. It’s almost cute how they bump against each other during the tickling. Justin is sandwiched between the taller boys and with all of them squirming as they are it leads to them leaning sometimes in different directions, sometimes all in the same and sometimes with both Jeff and Zach leaning over, or on top of, Justin.

    He doesn’t tease them but he doesn't need to. Intermittent with the gales of laughter are pleas from Jeff and Zach for him to stop. Justin doesn’t say anything, but he laughs a lot.

    Clay is almost disappointed when the timer goes off but it’s not like this is all over.

    The trio on the couch slide down panting in exhaustion for a while. He lets them rest because Jeff needs the break too but his patience only lasts until Jeff sits up ready to go. 

    “Alright Justin, time to face the music, lay on the floor.” He thinks maybe he sounds a bit too eager but so what? He won and deserves to claim his prize.

    “The floor?” 

    “Well we can’t all tickle him if he’s sitting like this? I’m claiming his feet so you two have to divide his upper body up between you.”

    Zach rubs the back of his neck as he rises to stand and says, “That’s alright I don’t need to get in on this.”

    “Yes you do, Justin lost and the penalty was a three way gang tickling.” Clay isn’t sure why he’s so insistent except that the thought of seeing his one time bully and general asshole suffer sound like it’ll be great, “Unless you want to join him?”

    Maybe it’s mean to pit the two against each other but if it really bothers Zach he can join Justin and he and Jeff can tickle two at once. 

    Zach looks down at his big feet and wiggles his toes the looks over at Justin, then back at his feet and then opens his mouth when Justin cuts him off.

    “I lost fair and square Zach, just do what Jensen wants and lets get this over with.”

    As he says it Justin stands but it’s slow and Clay can’t tell if it’s because he’s tired or because he’s dreading what comes next, he hopes it’s the second option but suspects it’s a bit of both. In any case he moves to the other side of the table they’re feet had been on and lays down on the carpeted floor, hands above his head and legs stretched out.

    Clay moves to his feet and thinks he should deny his satisfaction in stripping off the now slightly damp cotton socks from Justin but something about this is just too perfect. Justin looks embarrassed and he enjoys that too. 

“Aww is the star of the Liberty Tigers embarrassed about his feetsies? I would be if mine were this ticklish!”

They were but he could deny that, besides having his socks taken off earlier he hadn’t been tickled so he could deny it and would if he had too.

“Fuck off Jensen.”

He ignores the comment, it lacks and bite anyway, and instead slowly pulls the other sock off and finds that despite what he expected, Justin’s feet aren’t gross. He thought he’d have overgrown toenails but they’re short and neat, he thought they’d stink but not really and despite the slight dampness of the socks, the feet themselves aren’t super sweaty. They’re also small, probably only size nines making them smaller than everyone else’s in the room by about two sizes. They’re also really soft and have a pleasant rosy color to them that Clay likes. All in all, he can’t wait to go to town on them.

Unfortunately he has to wait, since Zach and Jeff take a while to decide what they’re tickling and get into position but finally Jeff claims his armpits and Zach gets ready to tickle his ribs and belly. 

    “And we start in three, two, one, go!” The countdown wasn’t necessary but it felt good to watch Justin squirm with each number,  his toes splay open and then clench and his whole body has a nervous energy about it.

    It pales in comparison to when the tickling actually starts because Justin freaks out. He’s pretty sure there are curses in the laughter but he’s much too busy enjoying the bare skin. Even through socks, he knew they were hopelessly soft but now that he has them off he thinks he finally might have found a pair of feet nicer than Jeff’s. Maybe that was giving too much credit to them but they’re at least as nice, so smooth and soft and they have the ‘just bared’ look that’s driving him mad, it’s almost like he can tell how sensitive they are just from how they feel under his hands. 

    The toes are even better, they aren’t long like Jeff’s and Zach’s they’re sort of bubbly instead and very, very sensitive. Naturally he concentrates on them, getting his fingers under and between them and finds the webbing produced a particular squeal, though it takes him a few tests to confirm it’s this and not something Zach or Jeff is doing.

    Speaking of them, Jeff is showing no mercy to the armpits, his fingers are digging into them and alternating between hard tickling in the hallows and a softer tickling in the skin just below them. Clay thinks he tries to ease up a few times by going for Justin’s neck instead but he doesn't call the other boy on it because he doesn’t really care what they do as long as he gets his tickling. Zach is barely tickling him at all, sort of just touching his stomach and ribs and occasionally his sides but that’s enough on top of what he and Jeff are doing and to make Justin’s whole body flop about. Zach even ends up sitting on his legs to keep him still.

    Now only able to see Zach’s back, he refocuses back on the helplessly ticklish feet and continues going to town, playing with the sides and tops too and enjoying that they’re even a little ticklish. He doesn’t do much with them, just traces his fingers long them and feels the feet squirm and thrash but Justin’s being pinned down by two other boys and not going anywhere no matter what he tries. He uses this tickling partly as a fake out, lulling Justin into a false sense of security, partly to satisfy his own curiosity as to how ticklish these parts of his feet are, and mostly to marvel at how powerful the feet are. And how much it isn’t helping them.

    Of course once he gets down to only three minutes he goes back hard, silently vowing to devote a minute each of his remaining time to soles, arches, and toes. Of these three, the soles seem the least ticklish even though that isn’t saying much, and he digs into them vigorously, raking dull nails scratching the balls and heels and carefully avoiding the arches. He can’t pretend the almost violent thrashing of the feet isn’t enjoyable and he has no doubt that if it weren’t for the other teen sitting on his knees, Justin’s legs would be moving too.

Two minutes left and he shifts to the arches he’s been carefully avoiding and starts tickling them at random for a few moments and then getting more systematic. He starts from the lowest part of the arches and moves towards the highest, finding the ticklishness increasing as he does so. When he reaches the highest points, he tickles back the other way. He continues this back and forth and then suddenly changes it up again, going from bottom to top and then keeps it random to really drive Justin mad for the last few seconds.

One minute left and he moves on to the toes, intending to make the most of the precious seconds. He holds the toes back on one foot, tickling the skin underneath and then does the same to the other and wishes he could just have them back without having to use a hand to do it. He gets between the toes too, enjoying the odd sensation of the webbing between someone else’s toes. No matter how many times he gets to touch Jeff’s it’s still very weird feeling. The skin is so delicate and thin and yet, at least on Justin, might be his most ticklish spot! While he scratches at the skin, Justin's laughter reaches fever pitch on the other side of Zach’s body and he wonders if the other two are stepping their game up at the end too.

    The timer sounds and he can’t help but feel disappointed. He can’t stand Justin but damn does he have some ticklish feet and he can admit they’re really nice...just not out loud. Zach gets off of Justin and both he and Jeff stand up but Justin remains laid out on the floor, panting.

    “Fuck.” It’s all he says but it’s all he really needs to because it pretty much is about the only thing you can say after getting gang tickled by three guys because you lost a game.

    It’s more than a little awkward after that though and it doesn’t take long for them all to leave. 

    On his way home, he reflects that even now doesn’t know how he feels about the whole thing. On one hand Zach and Justin are assholes and jerks and barely count as human but on the other hand...three pairs of feet are greater than one and damn that was fun. He knows he isn’t mad at Jeff for probably orchestrating the whole thing and if given the chance he absolutely would tickle those two again but he still doesn’t like them. Maybe he doesn't have to though, maybe he can enjoy the experience of getting even with two of the school’s most popular boys.

[boytickler35]

13 Reasons to Tickle part 2

They’re on the way down to Jeff’s basement when he springs the surprise. “So I’ve got two other friends down there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but after last time I needed something to distract you from my feet! They’re totally psyched to get tickled too so it won’t be a problem.”

Clay doesn’t have time to reply until after he’s off the staircase and looking at the couch. Sneakers already off, socked feet propped up on the table in front of the couch, and smiles that, like his are slowly falling away, are Zach Dempsey and Justin Foley.

“What the fuck is Jensen doing here.”

Which mixes with Clay’s “What the hell Jeff, why these two?”

Zach says nothing but his toes curl in their socks in response to the obvious tension in the room.

“Fuck this I’m leaving!”

“Fuck you I am too!” 

Justin moves to stand up and Clay almost turns around to leave when Jeff clears his throat and moves between them. He addresses the pair on the couch first, specifically Justin, but Clay’s more than a little indignant with what he first hears.

    “Listen I know I didn’t mention it was Clay who would be tickling you but does it matter that much? When I told you that I had a friend who was going to tickle me your eyes lit up like it was Christmas and you asked to come along, you didn’t care then who it was. So you’re going to sit down and play nice with Clay cause he’s my friend just like you are.”

    The way Justin blushes gives Clay a superior feeling until Jeff turns to him. “And Clay, come over here.” He motions for Clay to come closer and once he does Jeff tosses an arm over his shoulder and points at the four feet sitting up on the table. “I know I didn’t tell you these two were coming but they’re also my friends and I want all three of you to play nice. And if you do, just think of getting your hands on four of the most ticklish feet in Liberty, or so I’m told, plus mine.”

    He grumbles a bit but Jeff joins them on the couch, sitting between them and adding his feet to the ones already on display. That changes his mind, he’s still not happy about it but the more he looks at those six feet, flexing, squirming, and wiggling, on the table, the more he can’t wait to get his hands on them. Since the first, admittedly somewhat awkward but totally wonderful time that Jeff let him explore his fetish and he and Jeff learned the other boy enjoyed getting his feet tickled, the pair had made it a bit of a regular thing. In the beginning it was just a hangout thing but Clay ended up finding out he could bribe his friend to study harder and do better on tests and projects by tickling him for good grades. The arrangement suited both of them because Jeff moved into firmly B- territory in several classes to both their delight and Clay more regularly got his hands on Jeff’s feet.

    Of course he also got a lot better at tickling, learning just how to tease and manipulate the huge feet to get the most out of them. After a lot of videos on tickling he learned how to tickle beyond just scratching the soles and even thought about using a few tools but then he wouldn’t be touching the feet himself and that made him decide against it. Maybe it was selfish but he could make Jeff howl and beg without a brush or feather. He had long since mapped out the most sensitive spots on his friend’s feet. Of course the silly jock had accused him of not, so he peeled a pair of socks off, an argyle pattern since Jeff had learned he could provoke Clay into giving him a worse tickling when he wore colorful, fun socks, and demonstrated his intimate knowledge of the feet to their owner. That had been about a week ago and he might have worn Jeff out a little too much because the older boy had apparently devised this plot, or used circumstances to his advantage, in order to get people here to divert his attention. 

    He also did a lot of research and soon had Jeff sleeping in socks with lotion soaked in them. The older boy thought it was silly at first but after giving it two weeks he saw the light and did it gleefully from then on. It worked out perfectly too because the other thing Jeff decided he loved was what he called tickle talk. Mostly it consisted of Clay teasing him about his feet and how ticklish they were. It came naturally to some extent, even now it seemed so strange for the jock’s feet to be so helplessly ticklish and Jeff loved hearing stuff like that because he claimed it made him more ticklish. Clay didn’t get it but then he didn’t get the tickling thing and Jeff didn’t get his foot fetish beyond the tickling so they were on pretty even terms...and the ‘tickle talk’ was a lot of fun in a way so he was down for it.

    All of the research and experimenting had come pretty easy though after he realized something very basic, he loved tickling! He isn’t totally sure what he likes about it, the feet obviously, and getting his hands on them, and Jeff also for sure but he’s come to suspect he loves the tickle talk too, or rather the fact that what he says in it is true. He loves the power he has over Jeff’s feet because it didn’t take much for him to get Jeff howling and he has to admit that he thoroughly enjoys being able to wiggle his fingers a bit, even in school when the boy has sneakers on, and getting him to jump a little. It’s his only form of payback against his friend’s relentless teasing about...well everything, related to ticking or not!

    Now he’s going to try it all out on these two assholes...and Jeff but most of it he’d already done to Jeff. He gives them one last dirty look though for good measure which Justin returns and Zach looks away from. He takes a seat and looks out at the feet in front of him, it’s like a buffet of sizes and socks. Justin’s are the smallest and are clad in basic black socks. They don’t stink either which surprises him, Justin is known to be dirty in more than one way. 

    Next are Jeff’s, the ones he’s most familiar with, his toys. He’s wearing a pair of graphic socks, sandy yellow with little fish on them and Jeff knows he loves those socks and has never failed to totally wreak him when he’s worn them. It makes him a little suspicious because he’s saying these two assholes are here because he needs a little break from Clay’s full attention but then wears something he knows will focus attention stage feet!

    Finally is Zach, the biggest pair of feet and clad in pale blue tube socks that go halfway up his calves. The toes are still clenched and he can’t help a barb to start it off, “C’mon Dempsey, so afraid I’ll wreck your feet you’re already holding onto your socks?”

    “Shut up Jensen what are you going to do anyway!” 

    He rolls his eyes at Justin’s outburst but he’s glad the moron asks because he’s about to show them. He moves to Justin’s feet and without any finesse or letting the idiot say anything, grabs them in a headlock and rakes his nails up and down the cotton covered soles. It’s a good thing he’s gotten better at not being kicked in the face while tickling because Justin thrashes worse than Jeff and howls twice as loud! Clay gives him a solid three minutes without a break and then lets him catch his breath.

    The whole time the moron’s mouth is running a mile a minute. “Ohshit! AHHAhHAJenHehEHseHOhOhehoNFuHAHahAHCkYouHOhoHOho!IHIhAHHe’MGoHOhaHOhAHiNGToHOhAHehAKihehEHillYouhoFUHhAHAHA!SThAHAHP!PlHEheHAhASE!”

    Clay reluctantly let up after he heard the pleading...well he waited for a few more pleas and looked up at the panting, red faced jock. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that, did the great Justin Foley just threaten to kill me for tickling him? And here I thought he was tough enough to take it.”

    He gets a wicked glare but interestingly, the feet remain in grabbing distance. “Fuck you Jensen.” It lacks the force it did last time which is good, he literally just had to beg for someone to stop tickling him, serves him right for being an ass.

    He decides not to respond and moves onto Jeff whose colorfully clad feet have been wiggling in anticipation the whole time and waiting to get totally wreck; tickled until his friend is a laughing mess on the couch but first he needs to play their game. Briefly he wonders if maybe he should be embarrassed that the two assholes on either side are seeing this but it’s not like they can tell anyone without admitting they were there to get tickled too.

    He reaches out and rests his hands on the ankles and looks Jeff straight in the face. “You know what happens now don’t you?” 

    “I don’t know, what?” Jeff gives a coy smile and stretches his toes all the way, making his soles taut and all the more ticklish.

    He runs his fingers along the tops of the strong feet enjoying the feeling of the nylon socks and more so the feet beneath. “I think you know exactly what happens, after all these socks aren’t a coincidence are they?”

    “What are you talking about? I just pulled out whichever socks were on the top and put them on.” There’s the usual mix of excitement, confidence, and trepidation in his voice that Clay’s come to associate with a Jeff who knows he’s about to get tickled. The feet continue their little teasing dance, flexing and stretching and generally being enticing to look at.

    “You mean you didn’t know wearing these would get you totally destroyed?” For a moment he has a brief flash of panic because Jeff...is not all that bright and might actually not know if Clay’s never told him. The other boy’s tanned face smiles just a little wider though and Clay knows Jeff’s playing the game and his fingers move along the sides now and he feels a little jerk and hears Jeff’s breath hitch slightly. The sides of his feet aren't super ticklish but right now Jeff is psyching himself out with anticipation which works in Clay’s favor.

    “Nope.” His face colors red a little like it does when he blatantly lies. 

    “That just makes them all the more deserving of this, boy’s who carelessly tease their feet deserve punishment, especially when they’re ticklish.” He finally moves his fingers down to the soles and feels the feet tense under his hands. “But that’s what you want right, you want me to tickle these monsters?”

    Jeff nods.

    “And you want to hear how I think it’s unbelievable that big, tough Jeff is actually a helpless little boy when his get his sneakers off?”

    “Yes.”

He drags a finger up the socked foot and feels it squirm but Jeff doesn’t pull away. He traces patterns across the feet, playing connect the dots with the little fish and making sure he connects all the really ticklish spots. Justin and Zach are both looking on in confusion and maybe a bit of disgust but neither say anything, probably in an effort to save their own feet. He’ll get to them later.

“It’s hard to believe the Liberty Tigers’ star hitter and first basemen can’t handle a little tickling.”

He continues to scratch the feet lightly, moving on to the heel and enjoying the warmth of the feet under his fingers and the suppleness of the skin as he presses down on it and feels spring back up.

“I mean look at these monster, the muscles, veins, I can see them through your socks! And to think, they’re softer than a little boy’s!”

On to the toes and he weaves his fingers through the fabric to tease the long appendages beneath while Jeff giggles madly but holds back outright laughter as Clay continues.

“And you enjoy this too. You love being belittled like this don’t you? Like being called the ticklish little boy you really are don’t you?”

“Yeheheas!” He decides Jeff’s had enough and moves on to the last pair of feet but not before one last comment.

“Good, because when I come back, you’re going to get the punishment your feet deserve for being so sensitive.” The wild smile on the boy’s face lets him know the other boy is excited for it.

Meanwhile, Zach’s toes are still clenched in their cotton protectors as Clay shifts to sit in front of them. They’re so big that it’s almost impossible to see the other boy’s face over them but Clay’s okay with that.

“Go easy on me?”

He snorts and replies by drilling into the feet. Like Justin, he howls but unlike Justin who kicked, his feet flapped about in a really funny way. It doesn’t help them much thought since Clay’s fingers follow wherever they do, scratching at the soles, poking the underside of his toes, and tracing patterns on his heels.

    Also like Justin he’s dumb enough to try talking but only to beg. “HoHOhOHAHoHAStAHHApClHAhahaHAYPlEhEHAHASE!” 

    He keeps going for a bit but at some point it just seems mean to keep tickling the moron so he pauses and feels a little vindicated that the other boy sucking in breath like a drowned man.

    He shifts back to look at all three of them and can’t help but feel annoyed it’s so hard to tickle all of them at once. The way their sitting he can’t reach from Justin to Zach in a way that would be effective for tickling.

Before he can bring it up, Jeff suddenly says, “Let’s play a game. Clay’s going to tickle all of us at once; first one to tell him to stop loses a sock. We keep playing till only one person has ‘em.”

Zach blushes a furious shade of red but Justin cuts in hotly, “We just keep playing till someone wins? What if Jensen can’t get us to beg?”

“With how ticklish you are Foley, that won’t be a problem.” He adds a smile onto it knowing it’ll infuriate the other boy, he pokes the foot too for good measure and gets a wiggle. He’s right but to his surprise Zach speaks before Justin can continue arguing, “What do we win?”

    All eyes look to Jeff since he started this and after a moment of thinking he says, “We set a timer for three minutes, Clay has that long to get one of us to tell him to stop and the person that does, loses a sock. If Clay can’t, he loses a sock at the end of the round. At the end the winner gets bragging rights and gets to tickle the losers for five minutes but then the person who comes in last gets gang tickled by the other three for five minutes. Sound fair?”

    Clay frowned, he signed up to do the tickling not the other way around, not with those two.

    Jusitn sounds positively gleeful as he replies, “Lookit, Jensen’s scared! He’d better be, he’s going to lose for sure!”

    His face heats up and he replies, “Keep dreaming Foley, you’re going down!”

    Zach chuckles, a little nervous but not entirely so, “I guess we’re all agreed.”

    Jeff has the pair shift so their feet are sitting on top of his and Clay can’t deny that the six feet all mixed together with their different sizes, shapes and colored socks is very appealing. It gives him more of an incentive to launch a massive tickling blitz on the vulnerable body parts after starting the timer which results in the howling laughter from all three as he scapes his nails across the ticklish canvasses. 

    “Cootchie Coo.”

    He says it to be annoying but mostly he’s focused on his timer, two minutes down so he heads up to the toes. That’s all it takes.

    “StAhAHAhAP!”

    Zach and Justin look at Jeff who blushes a little and gives a wry sort of smile as he holds his foot up to let Clay strip off the patterned sock. He rolls his eyes but does and takes a moment to admire the pretty foot, no matter how many times he sees them bare, Jeff’s feet are always a thing of beauty.

    He resets the timer and they start again and gets to work. With one bare foot, Jeff has to work twice as hard to keep from calling out but Clay realizes something...Zach is using the other feet as shields for his own and that inspires him to target them just a little extra and that’s apparently all it takes

“CuHAhAHaATiHEhehehHEIToUHoHOT!”

Clay lets go of the feet and it’s not even two minutes in. He gives Zach a look and the tall boy blushes but leans down and strips one of the long socks off.

They reset and go and to his surprise, and despite trying to get Justin to cave, it’s Jeff who calls out first.

His friend looks rather pleased with himself despite all three of them giving him a look.

Justin is the only one to speak, “You do know this means you lose right? Like you shouldn’t look happy?”

Jeff sort of shrugs and tries not to look so gleeful as he shifts out of the way so Clay can focus on the other two.

He restarts and Zach must have been fighting not to be the first out because he can’t seem to hold it together very long...in his defense he is half barefoot so that probably doesn’t help him but Clay doesn’t really care about being fair to him.

Now it’s just him and Justin and the other boy is grinning at him infuriatingly. “Ready to lose Jensen? Man I can’t wait to make you howl!”

Clay gives him a dirty look but resets the timer and lets it go. He digs in hard to the two flapping feet and Justin barks laughter more intensely now that he’s bearing the sole brunt of the tickling onslaught.

Still...he won’t beg. Clay works hard, really hard, tickles the soles, scratches the heels, teases the toes...the whole time watching his seconds slowly tick away. 

And then it goes off. He’s stunned as Justin looks at him cockily.

“A preview of what’s coming Jensen.”

Clay reaches down to take his sock off when Justin motions for him to stop. The asshole actually comes and takes it off himself, giving a slight tickle to the foot as he does earning him a giggle and a dirty look. 

“Man I can’t wait to destroy you. I may only get five minutes but I’m make you cry!”

    Clay continues his dirty look...but if he loses he’s in trouble and having one bare foot reminds him of that all the more. Looking down at his naked foot...he’s a little worried. He wears sneakers almost all the time...sometimes even on his own bed in his own room just because he’s so ticklish!

    Still Justin seems cocky and he can work with that..and if not he’ll die from tickling.

    “Fuck off Foley and put your feet back out and get ready to lose!” Not his greatest come back but he doesn’t need it to be.

    Even as the feet, still clad in their black socks, extend, Justin’s talking shit. “You look scared Jensen, realizing you can’t handle what you dish out?”

    Another glare and he starts the timer and digs into the soft feet again. Justin howls and he concentrates almost exclusively on the toes where Justin’s most ticklish, his fingers slide between the bubble digits and touch the cotton covered webbing between them which sets Justin off, plays with the soft undersides and occasionally attacks the doughy soles to fuck with him when he seems to be too used to the toes tickling. 

    The timer goes off though before Justin begs and for a moment the only sound in the room is the still ringing timer as the tickling stops and the shock sets in.

[boytickler35]

Gossip Girl Dating Advice

Eric taps on the door nervously and enters at the invitation. Chuck is looking at something on his computer but closes it when Eric enters.

“I need your help.” Eric blurts it out before he can chicken out but Chuck doesn’t seem annoyed and sets the laptop aside as he waves a hand for Eric to continue.

“I- want to know how to flirt.”

Chuck arches an eyebrow as he asks, “How to flirt or how to get a date?”

“Aren't they the same thing?”

“They can be, but they aren’t at base.”

He hesitates and then says, “Get a date.”

Chuck nods and asks, “With who?”

He feels his face heat up as he replies, “Does it matter?”

“Yes. It does.”

“Roger Holland.”

Chuck adopts a thoughtful look and then says, “The junior?”

He nods, not looking at Chuck anymore.

“Why?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again and then frowns but before he can say anything, Chuck says, “I won’t help until I know why.”

“He’s just-nice to me. He helped me pick up my books one day when I dropped them and lets me sit with him at lunch sometimes and actually talks to me.” He suddenly feels very self conscious saying it all out loud because those things are hardly the basis for a relationship.

To his surprise though, Chuck looks at him thoughtfully and then replies, “Give me a day or two and I’ll get back to you.” And with that, Chuck kicks him out to do whatever it is Chuck does.

XOXOGGXOXOXOXOGGXOXOXOXOGGXOXOXOXOGGXOXO

Eric jumps a little when someone knocks on his door but says, “Come in.”

Chuck steps in and closes the door behind him. Eric gestures to the bed and Chuck sits, already talking beforehand. “It seems our Roger is an interesting character. Before we start, I will get you your date, but remember he’s older than you. If he tries to do anything you don’t like, don’t let him. And don’t worry about any backlash. I will handle any.”

He blushes, almost protesting he doesn’t need a protector but deciding he doesn’t mind it if it’s Chuck, so he nods. Chuck seems satisfied with that and then things get weird fast. Chuck reaches for his ankle and grabs it, moving it onto his lap.

“Chuck?”

Chuck’s hand grabs the heel of his shoe and pops it off his foot. Chuck checks the tag and comments, “You have little feet.”

“I could have told you that?” He’s confused and also feeling just a little embarrassed.

Those feelings only get stronger when Chuck says, “It needed to come off anyway.” His brother then proceeds to strip his sock off. A finger flicks down his sole and he yelps, trying to pull away but Chuck has an impressive grip and is fast too, in short order, Eric’s other foot joins the first, bare, on his brother’s lap, fingers fluttering over the soles, leaving him rolling around on the bed laughing and begging Chuck to stop.

When the other boy finally does, he gets off the bed and moves to the closet, throwing it open and going right to the floor where Eric keeps his shoes and calls from it, “Get your socks out.”

He slides off his bed and reaches into his drawers anyway to pull out his socks as instructed, asking as he does, “I don’t suppose you plan on explaining?”

Chuck re-emerges from the closet shaking his head and moves over to the bed to look at the socks where he shakes his head again and announces, “We’re going shopping. I’ll get a driver. You get ready.”

Resigning himself to being in the dark, he does as he’s told and meets Chuck downstairs.

One massive shopping trip later, they are sitting on Chuck’s bed and he finally gets an explanation.

“Roger isn’t as prim and proper as you thought. He has a kink that seems to determine everything in his dating life: feet.”

“Feet?”

Chuck nods and continues. “In particular tickling them but he seems to like them overall. Lucky for us, you have a pair that will please and we only had to get some enhancements.”

His brain short circuits a little because feet and tickling? Tickling? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. The shopping trip suddenly makes sense though. Chuck’s idea of enhancements were ten new pairs of shoes, ranging from sneakers, informal shoes, dress shoes, and a pair of slides. In addition, two dozen new pairs of socks. His favorite, although they made him feel silly to wear, were a pair that when his feet were together made a smile across his soles. Chuck said they looked cute but he also said they were exactly what he needed, not that he had any idea what that meant. He also has about seven other pairs of socks with designs like that as well as actual silk dress socks to wear with his uniform to school.

At the beginning of the shopping trip, he tried to rein in Chuck but gave up when he realized it was a losing battle and let the older boy bring him to about five different footwear places until Chuck was satisfied and then they did socks which managed to take even longer. Then Chuck dragged him to get a pedicure which he giggled through most of.

While he was getting the pedicure, Chuck left and reappeared in time to pick him up, a large bag of something hanging from his wrist.

Eric is now figuring out what was in the bag and he isn’t very happy. Chuck takes out several bottles of stuff and Eric can read the labels, several different lotions, extra strength moisturizer, a pumice stone. His toes, bare again, curl as Chuck takes the pumice stone to his feet. He fights not to laugh even though Chuck is being gentle as he scrubs it against Eric’s heels and the balls of his foot.

“Roger apparently enjoys talking, you should know. Teases boys as he tickles them senseless.”

“Teases them?”

Chuck smirks and Eric wonders if maybe he should find someone else to crush on just from the smile alone.

“I believe something like this, ‘cootchie coo, who has a pampered widdle pair of feet for me’ or ‘keep telling me to stop, it makes me tickle more’ and other such nonsense.”

As Chuck says the phrases, Eric's giggles grow louder. Partly because Chuck’s baby voice is funny but mostly because as embarrassing as the words are, the first one at least is pretty true.

“Is this necessary? I think my feet were ticklish enough before.”

Chuck sets the pumice stone down and reaches for the bottles, breaking the seals on them as he replies, “Roger isn’t impressed by good or great, or maybe in this case, sensitive, or ticklish. He’s looking for a hopeless giggle boy so that’s what you are going to be. Now, there’s more to this plan.”

He can’t help commenting, “Of course there is.”

Chuck punishes him right away with a single finger between his toes causing him to yelp.

“I wasn’t done talking yet Eric, try to contain your commentary until I tell you how you are going to get your dream date.” Chuck then explains a plan that sounds much more convoluted than Eric thinks it needs to be. At the same time, the older boy pumps a generous amount from one of the bottles onto his hand, which he then rubs together and clasps one of Eric’s feet between his hands, working the stuff in heavily. “Now then, where was I? Right. Roger needs to be teased, he has to have the thrill of the game before his catch. You’ll be doing this in two ways, the first is with our new purchases. Wearing things on your feet that will get his attention, make him interested, keep him coming back.”

“Okay, and the second?”

Chuck smirks again, “You’re going to step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Eric doesn’t think he likes the sound of that.

“He takes very good care of his own feet, a point of pride for him it seems. Once a month, he visits the same parlor we were at today to have a mani-pedi.”

“How do you know that?” He isn't entirely sure he wants to know, but he feels he has to at least ask.

“I have sources. Now, next Saturday you are going to that parlor at noon to have a pedicure.

He’ll see you giggling your head off in the chair and be on the lookout for you after that. He can not see your feet, not just yet.”

“Umm, why?”

Chuck tuts and he feels like he’s missed a great point.

“Because it will ruin the surprise for him, Eric. You are the prize to be won but you have to make him work for it otherwise the thrill is lessened. He’ll know the most important piece of information, but he’ll be left to fantasize about what his quarry looks like.”

Chuck’s voice has a distinctly raspy quality to it that wasn’t there before prompting Eric to clarify, “Umm. Are we still talking about my feet?”

With a coy smile Chuck replies, “We are, but that doesn’t mean I’m thinking about them. Now, socks are a tool. You need to use them. You eat lunch together?”

“Sometimes.” Chuck has moved on to his other foot

“Good. Play footsies with him and-”

“What?”

Chuck sighs, “Footsies, Eric. Like rub his feet under the table, be bold, but not too bold, not at first at least. It will drive him mad. And show off your socks. Subtly of course.”

“Isn’t showing off the opposite of being subtle?”

“It seems tomorrow we are going to have to go out again. You need practice before we do this. Or at least a model of what to do.”

“Right. I guess I don’t get any say in this?”

“None. If I’m helping you, we are doing it right. And speaking of-”

“Are you ticklish?”

The question pops into his mind as he watches Chuck’s brown toes curl against the satin sheets.

“Do you want to find out?” Chuck extends the same foot out and Eric frowns before reaching a finger out to poke it.

The toes splay but Chuck says, “Like you mean it, Eric.”

With a little more purpose, he drags a finger the length of the sole earning a soft giggle from his brother. Enjoying the sound, and the feeling of getting the upper hand of Chuck, he goes back with more purpose this time, scratching up and down the sole with ten fingers. Chuck lets go of his feet as he dissolves into deep laughter but makes no move to pull his foot away and even extends the other, letting Eric tickle both.

After a moment of internal hesitation he says, “Who’s got big ticklish feet?”

“EhEhEriC!” Chuck's laughter filled demand, implicit in the way he says Eric's name, fuels the younger boy more.

“I think Chucky does!”

“SthaAhap!”

He probably should but for once, he decides to press his luck as he adds on, “Guess you shouldn’t have handed them over, huh? Big ticklish feet deserve to be tickled.”

It’s a weird thing for him to say and he finds himself blushing as soon as the words leave his mouth. Chuck is apparently done indulging him too. As quickly as the feet were given, the older teen pulls them back and Eric doesn’t have time to register he’s in trouble before he’s on his belly, Chuck’s legs wrapped around his legs, knees bent, feet upturned and totally helpless, and the boy’s voice saying, “Eric, Eric, Eric. If my big ticklish feet deserve to be tickled, what do you think that means for yours?”

“Can we talk about this?”

“Aren’t we here to make them as ticklish as possible for you to land a date?”

“Wasn’t my idea.”

“But we should test it out, shouldn’t we?”

“If I say no, can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

He feels Chuck pinch one of his pinky toes lightly and he resists the urge to giggle as the older boy wiggles it lightly as he says and a high, teasing voice, “This little piggy said ‘don’t tickle me’.”

“Chuck!” No way is this happening. He isn’t four!

Moving down the line, Chuck grabs the next one. “And this little piggy said ‘tickle me’.”

“No it didn't.”

“And this little piggy said, ‘please don’t tickle me’.”

“And this little piggy said, ‘please tickle me’.”

Chuck proceeds to go down the line, the tickly feeling growing stronger with each one, until he gets to the last one when he says, “And this little piggy said, ‘please tickle me, big brother Chucky’.” Chuck’s voice returns to normal as he finishes. “And who am I to deny!”

Ten fingers skitter across his upturned soles and boyish laughter explodes out of him as he rocks from side to side trying to escape but not getting very far.

“You know what the best thing about having widdle boy feet is Eric?”

“STAHahAHAHAp!”

“It’s that they know they deserve being tickled!”

“NONohOhoO!”

“No? Were they not just on my lap getting lotioned up just for this? They’re so slick that my fingers glide right across them.”

“ChuAHAhoCK!”

“I wish I had some tools but I guess Roger will get to enjoy that all on his own.”

“ToHohOHol!” What did he get himself into?

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t think so, but Chuck somehow makes the tickling worse, getting between his toes, then under them and he doesn’t have enough air to protest anymore.

It seems to go on for an eternity but it’s probably not nearly that long.

Chuck announces the ending by saying, “I think I’ll keep all of the products in my room. You’ll need to see me every night before you go to bed for this.”

“That sounds like a threat.” He yawns out, exhausted after the tickling.

Chuck gives him a smile, not quite his usual smirk as he says, “Maybe, or maybe not. Maybe if you’re a good boy you’ll even get a chance to tickle me again.”

“Really?”

“Really. After all, if you practice on me, you should be able to deal with Roger. Turning the tables is always fun. Now, let’s finish up.”

Chuck returns to rubbing in the last of the lotion but Eric feels himself nodding off. Luckily, the older boy doesn’t take advantage of it to continue tickling him. The massage is nice, tickly but not unbreakable as the lotion is worked into his feet. His eyes pop open when he feels something being put on his feet and realizes Chuck is sliding on the most ridiculous pair of fuzzy, pale blue socks he’s ever seen.

As if anticipating the question, Chuck explains, “There would be no point in this if all the stuff I just rubbed in, rubbed off on your sheets while you slept.”

“I have to sleep with socks on?”

“I tried to pick a pair as cute as you.” Chuck replies with a smirk and if he were more awake, Eric thinks he might be embarrassed but he’s too tired.

Chuck rubs his hands on a towel before pulling Eric into a seated position and says, “Come on. Let's get you to bed.” Chuck crouches down, back to Eric and the young boy feels his brain stall until Chuck says, “Wrap your arms around my neck and legs around my waist.”

Eric does and lets Chuck piggyback him across the hall into his room. As he’s being set down in bed he mumbles, “You’re nicer than people say you are.”

He feels a hand brush his hair gently and hears Chuck’s rumbling voice reply, “Not to everyone. Good night, Eric.”

The covers are pulled up and he hears Chuck changing the temperature in the room on his way out before passing out.

[boytickler35]

Shoe Store

    “Can I help ya?”

        The sudden voice startles Jake out of his thoughts. He turns around away from the wall of shoe boxes and faces an elderly man in a store uniform. The tall, dark haired college student hadn’t been expecting to run into anyone.

        “Oh, no I’m fine…thank you.” Jake flushes a light pink. He had been hoping to get in buy a new pair of sneakers and get out without running into anyone. It was why he went to the largest shoe store in the city, three floors of floor to ceiling shoes, sneakers, boots, slides and flip-flops and any other kind of footwear there was. Now he has the feeling that this won’t be a quick stop.

        “Nonsense, unless my eyes deceive me you are wearing a size 12 ½, quite a large pair of feet young man but given your height it makes sense,they are very difficult to shoe properly though. If you’ll follow me I’ll get you taken care of.” Without waiting for a reply he turns and starts down the aisle and Jake follows reluctantly, it doesn’t seem worth the effort to argue with this man.

        The man stops in front of a display of sneakers and bids Jake to seat himself on the cushioned bench. While the college student sits down the man seats himself on the floor by his feet and reaches under the bench to pull out an old shoe size measure.

        “My name’s Neil, by the way. Can ya take your sneakers off? I’ve been here almost 30 years and I can safely say that lads like you with big ol’ feet are always the hardest to place but don’t you worry …ah…ah what didja say your name was again?”

        “Jake.” His reply comes out awkwardly as he slides off his old sneakers.

        “Cute socks, Jake.” Neil smiles and says looking at the maroon and dark gray checkered socks. The flush grows darker as Jake’s now socked feet meet the floor. Suddenly Neil is manhandling one of his feet lifting it up to nearly his face and pokes at the center of his sole.

        A giggle slips out of Jake’s mouth as he tries to pull away only to find the man’s grip is too strong. Seemingly unaware of Jake’s reaction or discomfort the old man comments, “Just like I thought, 12 ½ with a flat sole, ya are going to be difficult to shoe my boy but don’t worry. I think I can do it just fine.”

        “Really I’m okay…”

        “Don’t worry at all Jake it’s what I’m here fur, now let’s see.” Neil’s fingers trace around the sides of his sole leaving Jake in another giggle fit. “Hmm, oh by the way Jake, I’ve never had an unhappy customer but ma methods may seem a little odd. I’m sorry but it’s how it’s gunna to be.”

        Without waiting for a reply he begins running his fingers over the socked sole in his hand. Jake bursts into immediate giggles “Hmm, oh I see. Yes, that’s what ya need.”

        Neil stands up abruptly and walks away, leaving Jake, still feeling phantom tickles on his feet and giggling slightly. He rubs them against the floor to try to get rid of the feeling and it is receding by the time Neil reappears with a box which he passes to Jake. The tall boy accepts it and hopes Neil will leave but to his dismay, Neil takes a seat on the floor again and motions for one of the sneakers.

“I can do it.” But even as he says this, Neil is reaching past him and taking a sneaker himself. They’re vans, black and white and like the pair he’s replacing; to be honest, exactly what he’s looking for. They’re some of the only things that feel comfortable and fit right. The man is sliding it onto his foot. He follows it up and by putting the other on and once he’s done Jake is forced to admit they feel great.

    “Go on and stand up fur me and walk around the aisle just to make sure.”

    Jake already planned on doing that so but he still feels the blush creep up and hurries around the corner, out of Neil’s view. They fit and feel good and when he sits back down he’s already decided he’s going to buy them. He says as much to Neil.

    “Good, good, now what’d I say, never had a disappointed customer! Now I have to tell ya that we’re having a special, buy a pair of sneakers and get a pair of Nike slides half price.”

    “Oh, thanks but I’m not-”

    “Come now, yer a student ya need to save money where ya can!” As he’s saying this he’s strippings the sneakers off. He also takes Jake’s socks off, leaving him barefoot, with said bare feet in a strange stranger’s hand. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable and exposed in his life. “There, now let’s see.”

Neil is moving so that he’s now standing, Jake’s legs extended and his ankles trapped between Neil’s legs. He suddenly realizes what the man intends to do but it’s too late, the fingers, one each, already drag up and down his bare soles. They start at his heels, move up along the outer sides of his feet, to the base of his toes and around them, and then back down the instep. Jake just about loses his mind at the intense sensation. The dull nail seems to map out the most ticklish spots too because they return there. The worst part though, somehow, isn’t even the tickling it’s Neil talking.

“I’m sorry laddie, slides are harder to fit and bare feet work best for doin that, don’t worry though I guarantee satisfaction! Good thing too cause it’s about to get worse.”

“WHAhAt?” Jake only just has time to get the question out before all five fingers attack  each sole. There doesn’t seem to be much pattern to it this time, just a mad, almost frantic, scribbling of nails across feet. When Neil’s fingers find his toes he thinks he might lose his mind.

“Oh sure, people think open shoes are easier to fit because it ‘matters less’ but a poor fitting pair of sneakers or shoes will never be bought while a person may not know they’ve got the wrong pair of slides or flip-flops until they’ve already spent the money for them!”

The fingers deftly get under his toes and Jake thinks he’ll pass out from it just as the man stops. “Well ma boy I’ve got just the pair for ya, don’t go anywhere till I get back!”

Jake can barely think about moving since he still feels the fingers on his feet, his laughter only subsides to giggles  giggling a few minutes later when Neil returns. He doesn’t make any pretenses this time and instead sits down and puts the slides on himself and sends Jake around the shelves again. The young man is too dazed to either protest with the command or about not really wanting the slides.

He’s finally able to put on his socks and sneakers and then follows Neil to the cash register. The man cheerfully whistles while he rings up the price but after Jake pays Neil reaches across the counter and grabs his arm.

“Sonny, ya look like you could use a new shirt and jacket, I’ve got a brother who owns a place, just a minute.” His other hand is under the counter and when it emerges, there’s a flier in his hand with a shop name and address. “Now when ya go just ask fur Billy and tell him Neil sent ya, he’ll set you up with anything you want.”

Jake’s too drained to protest so he thanks Neil and slides the flier into the top box. On his way out a display of hiking boots catches his eye. He does need waterproof footwear, rain always leaves the campus too wet for sneakers. He’s also been meaning to get a new sweatshirt, his current one is starting to fray at the cuffs, and eventually he’ll need to replace his other sneakers too. He may be seeing more of Neil and this Billy than he thought.

[boytickler35]

Dan's Ticklish Worship Part 2

    Paul hides a smile as the blush creeps up on Dan’s face. He’s enjoying this maybe more than he should but seeing his friend get flustered is always adorable.

    “Do you-do you have to tie me down?” He looks anywhere but at his friend and Paul fights not to show he smirk he knows he’s sporting. Dan and he have been getting together as often as they can for fun with Dan’s feet since that first late night in the common room a few months ago and now the semester is almost over and it’s... unreal. Sure he knew it would end but at the same time he never expected it to actually happen.

    A whole year gone, he talked about it with Dan a month ago when it was still possible to pretend it wasn’t going to happen. They agreed on the shock of it and Dan also admitted his summer would be pretty laughless without Paul who read between the lines about both the lack of tickling and missing his best friend. They couldn’t do anything about the passage of time but they could make the most of it, in the form of secret tickle meetings and spending as much time with their new friends as they could before it ended.

    They had been making good on both commits too and Paul finally decided that as much as he enjoyed the feeling of Dan’s feet under is hands, he would take the tickling to a new level and as this was their last night before going home for the summer, it was now or never. They were once again the only ones in the common room but now it’s because everyone else had already moved home instead of being asleep in their own rooms. He’s just proposed part one of Dan’s Unlimited Tickle Experience but knows his friend will take some convincing, fortunately, he has a foolproof plan for that.

    “Well, we don’t *need* to but don’t count it out just yet, comeon relax.” He takes a seat on the floor next to Dan’s feet. They’ve been planning this for almost a week now and for the past hour, Dan’s feet have been soaking in warm water. Paul decided to step his game up and spent a few hours one night researching how to increase sensitivity and this is one of the suggestions he came across, along with applying baby oil to the feet but that didn’t sound like it would taste good; as it is he’s going to miss the salty taste that’s being cleaned away but it’s a loss he can live with if everything else works out like he thinks it will. He takes Dan’s feet out and drys them off with a towel and then gently kisses each toe. He can tell by the way Dan curls them that there’s an effect for sure.

    He massages slowly, hands working the feet with firmness but not so much it would hurt and as he predicted, Dan is basically putty in his hands. He looks at his friend’s dark eyes and sees his willpower melting. Paul knows that the way to get Dan to do almost anything he wants is to play with his feet, maybe tickle him a bit, and it’s only a matter of time; he’s sure this time won’t be any different.

    Dan groans softly with pleasure and punctuates them with giggles. It amazes him just how ticklish Dan’s feet are and with the preparations they’ve made he’s surprised the laughter is contained so well. Paul continues though, squeezing the arches and working his way down to the heels.

    After about five minutes of massaging, Paul changes tactics. He cracks Dan’s toes, something he knows Dan loves and then asks, “Ready to move on?” A nod from Dan is all the permission he needs.

    He begins the slow teasing worship what drives Dan mad. He brings the feet up to his face and inhales deeply, the warm water they’d been bathing in not too long ago ruined it slightly but the faintly salty smell lingers, Paul pushes his nose between the toes to try to get a stronger sample of the scent he’s come to identify as Dan. Both feet try to dodge the invading nose and a glance up reveals Dan’s eyes closed and head leaned back but a smile perpetually on his face and a few snickers and giggles making themselves known. He slips his tongue between two toes and that of course leads to a more violent reaction from the tender tootsies. Unperturbed, Paul continues with nose and tongue to re-explore his treasure, in spite of Dan’s subconscious efforts to escape the tickling effects.

    Sensing weakness Paul decides it’s time to play his trump card, “I know we’re both enjoying this Dan but your feet are just too sensitive! I’m barely doing anything and you can’t keep them still at all.”

    Dan’s eyes open and he meets Paul’s eyes, face turning a darker red from its usual pink color, “Sorry Paul, I just can’t help it. I’m enjoying it all but every time I relax my legs pull back. It isn’t a big problem right?”

    “Well not exactly, it’ll make everything more difficult, about half the time I could be having my way with your feet I now have to spend catching them and the real tickling hasn’t even started. If my face is too much the surprises I brought will be useless, your feet won’t still for them.”

    Dan thinks about the problem for a moment and then says, “I can try harder to hold them still.”

    Paul pulls a fake offended face. “Just how unimpressive do you think my surprise is?”

    Dan looks back a little sheepish and replies, “I guess we can try the tying up thing.”

    Paul thinks he does a pretty good job keeping the smugness from his face as he pulls out the ropes, and has Dan stretch out on the couch, and slide his ankles into the space between the armrest and the seat cushion. A bit of fancy rope work later and Dan’s feet are totally helpless against Paul. He makes sure his friend can see though, he has a feeling watching the tools as they come out will make the experience more intense.

    Dan let’s him do it and stays silent until Paul is once more seated. Being a bit of a sadist, Paul lets him squirm in anticipation while he pulls out the box he stored under the couch and returns to a slow tickle, barely dragging his fingers long the feet. He’s impressed by how long Dan lasts too, almost three minutes.

    “Pahahahaul.”

    It comes out as a bit of a whine with some desperation mixed it. He wiggles his toes too, knowing that’s a sure fire way to inspire real tickling. Paul decides to give him what he wants and reaches into his box for the first of three tools. He found a lot of others the could use but he needs something to surprise Dan with when they return from summer so he limits himself to only three.

    The first to find its way into his hand is a paint brush which he pulls out, and shows his friend. He’s already reaching back into the box for the other part of this tool.

    “I guess you have paint to go with it? Oh you do.” He sounds surprised when Paul shows him the assorted colors he’s also brought with him. He also gets out a pallet and begins to squeeze paint on it, wets the brush in the tub of water and dips it into the paint. He then starts to explain to Dan.

    “Of course I brought paint where would he fun be without it? I got green which is your favorite color, red, which is mine and then blue and purple cause they were on sale. I’m going to assign each color a sensitivity level, with green being the most sensitive, down to purple which will be the least and paint your feet with the right color. Ready?”

    “Wait how do yohoHOhohou-” Paul’s already brought the purple dipped brush down on the top of his left foot drag it in long strokes from near the ankle to out by the toes. It’s a little awkward since he has to reach around the flapping pair of feet to get to this part but it’s part of the fun and the stream of giggles is well worth it. He doesn’t spend a lot of time on the tops, only enough to make sure he gets a good coating of purple on the skin. He cleans the paint off the brush and then goes for the blue while Dan flexes his toes several times, trying to get used to the feeling.

    “How do you plan to get it off?” Dan was probably trying to ask that earlier when Paul’s tickling cut him off.

    Of course he has a plan but teasing Dan is more fun so instead of telling him he replies, “Oh I figured we’d leave it there for a while, I’m sure it’ll come off after a couple showers, if not you’ll have the most color feet as well as the prettiest.”

    Dan’s face turns a deeper red and he looks away. It seemed like no matter how many times he complimented his friend’s feet, his default expression is bashful. It also gives Paul time to bring the brush up to the feet. Only one part of Dan’s feet would get this color and those are his heels. He brushes the color on in slow circular patterns relishing in the giggling laughs from Dan. Covering them in the blue isn’t hard work and he’s wiping down his brush again soon enough.

    Dan doesn’t say much, during tickle session he usually doesn’t so this isn’t surprising behavior and it doesn’t bother Paul in the slightest. He’s gotten the red out and is ready to paint the second most ticklish areas of his ticklish canvases, namely the balls of his feet where the toes meet the rest of the foot. He knows he probably should have done this sooner so that it had time to dry before the last color goes on but that ruined the flow of the tickling and he decided not to.

    This time it’s outright laughter from Dan and if his feet weren’t being held in place by the ropes, Paul is certain he wouldn’t be able to keep the tickling up. Dan doesn’t even try to say anything while this coat of paint goes on and Paul is certain to get a thick layer on to ensure maximum tickling now and when he removes it. As he paints he makes sure the bristles spread out far cross the sensitive skin to maximize his ticklish catch.

    He let Dan have a longer breather before starting the final paint job, he needs it and it also lets the paint dry a little. After Dan catches his breath Paul starts talking.

    “Well how is it so far, living up the title of ‘Ultimate Tickle Experience’? After all the prep work I hope it is.”

    Dan nods a bit surprised but also clearly happy, “I didn’t know I could be this ticklish! Do you think all of your research is paying off?”

    “Well obviously some of it, the tops of your feet have always been ticklish but tickling you there rarely even gets a giggle out of you except this time it did. It’s hard to tell how much of it is the tools and how much is the prep work though.”

    Dan nods, “I’ve been wondering that too, ready to continue?”

    “I think that’s my line but yeah if you think you can handle it I’d hate to tickle you so much you passed out on me.”

    “I can handle it, hurry up and get on with it.” Dan’s blush returns as he says this but he looks eager regardless.

    Paul chuckles at the impatience and gets the green on the brush. This is reserved for the most sensitive spots, namely toes and instep. He’s glad he got Dan to agree to being tied down cause otherwise getting kicked would be a real possibility. It only happened once but Paul doesn’t want to take any chances.

    He brings it down on the instep first; its a bigger area but easier to paint so more logical of a starting place. The moment the brush makes contact though he knows he’s in for a wild time. Dan’s whole body goes rigid and once the brush starts moving Paul isn’t even able to hear his thoughts over Dan’s laughing.

    “HAHAHAhAHOHoAHAOAHE!”

    Laughter explodes out of his mouth and Paul takes his sweet time, painting in the area one one foot, then the other and then doing another coat on each before going to his favorite part, and what promises to be the most difficult, Dan’s toes. He loves the toes, they’re cute, something he tells Dan often and they squirm and move in the most entrancing ways. He gets under the toes first, wreaking havoc with the brush and then gets between them, leaving Dan’s feet a beautiful masterpiece of color. Not a bit of the usual soft pink color shows through the artificial ones. Needless to say Dan needs a few moments.

    Once he recovers he reiterates his earlier question, “Not that my feet look like a Jackson Pollock canvas how are you going to get the paint off?”

    Taking mercy on his friend he produces the implement he intends to use, a soft bristled scrub brush. He lets the shock register on Dan’s face and leaves to change the paint water for a clean bowl which he places below the bound feet and adds some soap to it.

    “This Danny-boy is part two.” He annonces and soaks in the shock, Dan mush have though removing the paint wouldn’t be part of the experience but he’s in for a treat and one Paul doesn’t think he’ll forget any time soon! He watchs Dan stiffen and sets about his work before his friend has a chance to figure out what’s about to happen to him.

    He drags the brush from heel to ball and then back down. The paint won’t take long to get off but Paul won’t let that stop him from making full use of the brush as a tool of tickling destruction. Several more times up and down and when Dan seems to have gotten comfortable with the rhythm, he changes to back and forth and around to clean the tops of his feet. Of course this all to the background of Dan’s hysterical laughter, sweet music to his ears.

    He cleans the other foot to and then let’s Dan catch his breath. He doesn’t let him comment on his mostly paint-free feet though before using the brush again, paying careful attention to brushing the insteps and teasing, “You know the secret to beautiful hair is hundred brush strokes, maybe it makes feet nicer too. 1...2...3...4...5”

    “YOHOHOUSUHAHAHAHCK!”

    Wow, he didn’t think Dan could talk through all the tickling; he only counts up to five before changing feet and repeating. He then goes back to the original target and goes to ten. He doesn’t count out loud though instead he replies to the accusation, “Danny, I’m surprised at you. Here I am trying to help your image and this is the thanks I get.”

    He’s pretty sure whatever Dan tries to reply with isn’t rated PG but it’s lost in the laughter. That doesn’t stop him from getting to twenty on each foot. After that he retires the brush. Dan’s flush-faced and panting for air. Despite the earlier protests, Paul knows he’s loving it, the way he doesn’t protest too hard and more telling the way he tries his hardest to keep his toes splayed to maximise the tickling, are enough to tell him as much. He waits again for Dan to initiate the conversation.

    “How do you plan to clean my toes?” Dan wiggles them as if to prove his point; it is a valid one. Paul avoided the toes with his brush, oh he had no doubt it would be a sensation for the ages, but he had other plans for them. Since this was the case, they’re still painted, minus a few spots here and there where the earlier struggle left drops of water that already started to wash it off.

    “Dan, I’m glad you asked because here is the latest and greatest in tooth care,” he pulled out an electric toothbrush, brand new and holds it up for Dan, “and it’s about to be the latest and greatest in tickling you!”

    While the red from the tickling had begun to fade, it’s now replaced by a deep flush, as Paul expected. He clicks it on and lets Dan hear the buzzing sound of the device at work and then switches it off. “Think you can handle it?”

    Dan wiggles his paint covered toes and replies, “Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”

    “Nope, let’s start!” He flicks the toothbrush back on and brings it to rest on the pad of Dan’s big toe. He knows he’s made the right decision for the finale by the way Dan’s feet squirm and fight to stay still and the laughter bubbling out of him. He brings the brush along each toe pad and soaks in the laughter. The paint comes off easy and he does the same to the other foot and then looks Dan straight in the face, spreads two toes apart from each other and slides the brush head between, removing the last traces from paint from them. The octave of Dan’s laughter rises and he strains against the ropes. Paul repeats until Dan’s feet are finally paint free.

    “Well?” He wants Dan’s opinion, personally he thinks it’s a success, but if Dan didn’t enjoy it, well then it was a waste, well mostly he still enjoyed it.

    Paul didn’t need to be worried though, “That was amazing. The tools make a huge difference, I didn’t know I could laugh so hard! I think the toothbrush was the most tickly, is that a word? Anyway you know what I mean.” He pauses here to yawn and Paul feels a little guilty for tiring him out so much. He starts untying Dan while his friend continues.

    “The paint was interesting, it was kind of cool, it drying was interesting too and the brush was fantastic, I bet those bristles could have cleaned between my toes easy.”

    It never ceases to amaze Paul that Dan becomes so loquacious only after his feet are played with and tickled. The rest of the time he’s quiet and out of the way but Paul loves these times when he’s so animated.

    “So it was a success?”

    “Completely.” He yawns again and when he sees Paul smirks replies sheepishly, “I guess it wore me out a bit.”

    “A bit? Comeon, it’s time to go to sleep,” Paul laughs as he watches Dan fight to stay awake.

    His friend’s smile shrinks a little and he protests, “No we can’t go to sleep! This is our last night together, go and grab your deck of cards or I can get my laptop and we can watch a movie-” He yawns again then blushes, “Well maybe we can sleep, but later.”

    “Yeah we aren’t done yet, after I finish we can talk about the rest of the night.” Paul knows by the time he’s done Dan will be sound asleep but he’s okay with that, he tired Dan out a lot with this round of ticking.

    He reaches for his supplies and pulls out a bottle of lotion. He pumps some into his hand, rubs it together with his other and then begins to slowly massage it into Dan’s foot. After their third or fourth worship session, Paul bought a bottle it and convinced Dan to let him apply it. After much debate Dan agreed to apply it every night before going to sleep and wear socks to bed...it had been a fight to get him to do it but they had seen results pretty quickly. The condition Dan agreed to do it on was that on nights they met up for foot fun, Paul would apply it himself. It was a pretty easy condition to agree to once Dan proposed it.

    He starts at the heel, rubbing in a circular motion along the skin and works his way up. Dan giggles a little but Paul, after a lot of trial and error, has gotten it to a point where he’s able to tickle Dan as little as possible while doing this. When he gets to the toes, he makes sure to get between them. He repeats the same process on the other foot and then pulls out a clean pair of socks, unrolls them and slides them on in a way that disturbs as little of the lotion as possible.

    When he looks up Dan is sound asleep, a look of content bliss displayed on his face. Paul leaves the room with the toy box and stows it in his room, grabs some stuff and returns to the common room. He tosses a blanket over Dan and then settles down on the other couch to sleep. In the semi-dark of the room he thinks about how his summer will be with his friends from high school and without his friends from college. He doesn’t really know what the summer, or the semester after will bring, but he decides that he can invite Dan to his house for a week in the summer if they get the time. He falls asleep wondering how he could tickle Dan without his parents hearing and how he would top tonight’s experience.

[boytickler35]

Dorm Tickle Horror Finale

The monster burst through the dorm room door to find Mike sitting on the bed dangling his legs and staring at his feet, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but go ahead and tickle me.” Mike was still dressed the same as he had been at the start, tight shirt, shorts and a pair of black ankle socks. The monster smiled obviously happy with Mike’s statement, “What’s with the change of heart, I didn’t think you wanted to be tickled.” “I don’t really want to, but you want to tickle me so I guess I might as well try to like it. Maybe it won’t be that bad.” Mike tried to look optimistic while the monster smiled and approached the willing teen. Mike slid over to give the monster room to sit on the bed, “So how does this work exactly?” The monster chuckled and sat down next to the teen, “Well, I’m going to tickle you of course. I can go slowly for you if you want.”

            Mike blushed and nodded, “I’d appreciate that.” The monster laughed, “Don’t worry boy I won’t hurt you, and who knows by the time this over, you may like being tickled. Now let’s see… well you’re not wearing any shoes on your feet which is nice, but I’ll save those for later… what about sides? Those should make a decent place to start… or maybe your stomach…no too generic I need something special for you… Okay, I’ve got it. Stretch your legs out.” Mike looked nervous but he did so anyway. The monster slowly began to tickle the backs of Mike’s knees and his thighs. The boy responded with a smile and some squirms shifting nervously, and in response to the tickling, as the monster’s fingers caress his legs. The monster chucked and pushed the boy’s legs off his lap. “You’re Mike, right? Where do you think you’re ticklish?”

            Mike felt his face heat up at the question but stammered out a response anyway, “My feet, underarms, stomach, pretty much everywhere.” The monster smiled encouragingly trying to get the student to relax. “Sounds like you’re pretty certain about that, I’m just going to poke around your upper body and test your reaction, see what I’m up against.”  True to his word, the monster reached out and poked Mike’s sides and ribs eliciting a stream of giggles. “hehehehehehehehehehahahahehahehahehahehaeha” “Well you certainly are pretty ticklish, let’s try here.” The monster ran a finger over the boy’s stomach earning a yelp. The monster smiled and Mike’s blush darkened. “We seem to have found a sweet spot, Mike.” The boy nodded but still looked uncomfortable.

            The monster frowned slightly at the student’s reaction. “Mike, you need to relax and enjoy yourself.” The monster’s voice was serious but not threatening and Mike found himself trying to heed the advice. He took a deep breath and nodded, “Alright, I’ll try.” The monster smiled encouragingly and replied, “That’s all I ask. Now let’s have some real fun, take you shirt off and we can step this up.” Mike stood up from the bed and did as the monster had asked, stripping off his shirt and then turned to face the monster who seemed delighted at the boy’s compliance. He reached out and lightly ticked the bare skin of the boy’s stomach and was rewarded with a squeal and a genuine grin from Mike. The monster now used a few more of his hands, tickling along Mike’s sides, ribs and stomach. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”  The monster was shocked at not only the volume of laughter but also at how soft the skin was. His fingers glided across the flesh without any resistance and Mike’s laughter continued to get louder.

            The monster paused to give Mike a break and let the boy catch his breath, “So how is it?” In between his pants Mike managed to say, “Intense.” Did you enjoy it?” Mike flushed again and nodded. “Alright,” the monster began smiling, “let’s try something new; put your arms behind your head and try to hold them there.” The monster reached out and light began tickling Mike’s armpits. The boy managed to keep his arms behind his head despite his laughter, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”  The monster’s fingers swirled around in the student’s armpits.

            The sensation tickled so much. That was the first thing on Mike’s mind but as the tickling continued, he found himself enjoying it. He was able to just laugh. It had been a long time since he was able to let go and laugh without reservation. He found himself enjoying the fingers sending ticklish shocks through his body. He was almost sorry when he felt the fingers leave his skin.

            The monster observed the grinning boy below him. Mike’s face was lit up with a pure, childish glee. “So what do you say now Mike?” The boy smiled at his shyly and replied, “I think I’m ready for you to really step it up.” The monster chucked at the newfound enthusiasm and resolved to ask after its source later, but for now he would oblige his prize. “What do you have in mind?” To his delight the boy swung his feet onto the monster’s lap and wiggled his socked toes in a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The monster looked him in the eye, “Are you sure about this?” Mike nodded bravely.

            The monster needed no more encouragement, his fingers eagerly descended on the offered feet. He skillfully scratched the socked soles and gently tickled the side of Mike’s feet. His efforts were rewarded by gales of laughter emanating from the student, “HAHEHAHAHEHEHAHEHAHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” The monster was enjoying himself; Mike’s feet were soft, even through the socks, and they reacted wonderfully to the tickling, squirming around on his lap but not actually pulling away. The monster wanted to rip the socks off and get at the beauties underneath, but he had promised to go slow and so he did. The boy’s laughter was musical to him and he continued to tickle the students feet until in between the stream of laughter he heard, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASTHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAOPHAHAAHHA.” The monster stopped immediately and Mike’s feet stayed on the monster’s lap spasming with the tingling sensation for a few moments and then he pulled them back.

            The monster was disappointed for a moment thinking his play time was over, but once again Mike surprised him. The college student stripped off his socks and placed his now bare feet back on the monster’s lap. The monster stared right at the boy, “Are you sure about this Mike?” Mike’s face was still red and the monster was not sure if it was from embarrassment or just from the tickling over the past twenty minutes. The boy nodded determinedly, “I want to try it without my socks on.” To the monster it was Christmas came early, the boy’s feet were perfect, soft and smooth, slightly damp from being in socks and the tickling they had previously received.  

            The monster gladly went about filling the request. The now bared soles continued to offer little in the way of resistance so the monster’s expert fingers glided along them. He slowly ticked the soles and heel with quick flicks of his finger up and down. All he heard from Mike was a steady stream of laugher, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHEHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAH!” It was almost defining but it was wonderful to the monster and, he suspected, to Mike. The student seemed to be enjoying it, which was what the monster had always wanted. The continued with his tickling, playing with the skin underneath and the toes and with the pads of toes themselves, eliciting a higher pitched laughter from Mike as he found more sensitive areas on the teen’s feet.

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!”

_________________

            It had been several hours since the monster had started tickling Mike. They had had fun with the tickling and Mike had revealed to the monster, during one of the many breaks, that he felt like a kid again and he wasn’t able to just laugh these days. The tickling gave hima reason to let go and be happy without needing a reason. Although they had both enjoyed themselves the fun had ended a while ago. Mike had gone to his dorm room and found Senghoon. His friend had been overjoyed to see him but both where so tired from their tickling that they had gone to bed immediately, resolving to figure out everything in the morning. When they woke up, it was like nothing had happened, at all. The building they were in was the right one, the doors led out to the campus, and the people were all where they were supposed to be, including Joe and Austin. The other boys had remembered the events of the previous night, but only through a tickle induced haze. They decided to keep it between themselves and continue on with their lives, which they did. Or they did until final’s season was over and they found themselves in much the same state they had found themselves in a few months ago. The group was relaxing until they heard a pounding on the door. Senhoon answered it and the monster stepped in to the dorm. Mike smiled, “Welcome back,” around him the others were pulling off socks and shirts, “we’re ready to start when you are.” The monster smiled with glee and said, “Then let’s relieve some stress.”