How Ticklish Is Tony - Part 3

How Ticklish is Tony? Part 3: How Ticklish is Sammy?

By: BigBlueFeather
(Part 1 By: Lyle Blake: tklfrat.com/story.php?story=00…)


It was a little over a year later when I heard a frantic knocking at my front door in the middle of the morning. As I turned the knob, it was pushed inward, forcing me to take a few steps back. A young dark haired teen slipped in quickly and, just as swiftly, turned and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned his back against it and closed his eyes, panting as I stared at him after this most unorthodox, but not at all unwelcome, intrusion.

"Sammy," I greeted him with a nod, eyes wandering up and down his body, taking in the thin, tight teal tank top made of cotton, black silk shorts and large bare feet of the younger brother of one of my most memorable victims. "What brings you here in such a state?"

Sammy, looking exactly the same as he did a year ago, except for a few inches added to his hair and his height, merely shook his mop of dark hair and padded towards my living room. He plopped himself down in my armchair and closed his bare arms around his torso, still trying to catch his breath.

I fetched him a glass of water and handed it to him. The slender hands grabbed the glass from my fingers, and brought it to his lips, downing its entire contents in one go. He nodded his thanks, handing it back and I returned it to the kitchen. Upon reentering my living room, I saw that the young Sammy had calmed down, so I sat on the ottoman in front of my chair and its new inhabitant, and looked into the youthful face. "So?"

He looked into my eyes for an instant before averting his gaze. "I knew it would probably not last for ever..." He shifted in his seat as I nodded knowingly.

"Tony started tickling you again, did he Sammy?" The boy nodded, shifting again. "What happened exactly?"

"Well... It was going fine, he was coming to my room every night, I was tickling him, showing him what it was like to be tickled all the time. Eventually it was just once in a while, when he was being an ass, I'd remind him of the tape and stuff, and force him to take some punishment. It kept him off me for a while. Our parents didn't do anything about it, if they knew, but as soon as they left on their vacation yesterday..." He trailed off, shifting again.

I sat patiently, not pushing for the information; I was sure he'd divulge what happened given time. Watching his face, I notice how his eyes travel down to his own bare feet. Mine follow, seeing the thin toes curl and uncurl, feet sliding across the floor as if to rub something off of them. Seems they had grown too since I last saw Sammy. How perfect. Shit he's talking again. I look up quickly.

"He came into my room... And...And the prick tackled me and... and his fingers were everywhere! It went on for like hours, I couldn't breathe but he wouldn't stop. Eventually I think he must have, I woke up this morning and pretty much just left, came here for the tape. I need it man, I told him what'd happen if he did it again, and he did it anyway!"

I nodded and got up, walking to my bedroom with Sam following close behind, feet slapping the hardwood floors of my hallway. Once inside, I stood by the dresser and leaned back on it, arms crossed. I smiled at the confused look on the younger teen's face. "Sammy, I understand your situation and I feel for you. I really do, but from where I'm standing... Well I hold all the cards and I was always taught not to let them go. Not without something in return."

I smirk as the boy's eyes cloud with confusion and a hint of worry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Well Sam, I think its obvious, what with how you found your brother when last we met, what I enjoy doing to guys who wander into my oh so humble abode. So I want you to... be my guest for the day, shall we say?" I watch as the boy backs away slowly, probably due to the evil grin I can't help stop from bursting onto my face.

"N-no way man. I-I'm just here for the tape I made. Its mine, give it and I'll be on my way." Bare heels hit my eggshell coloured wall as he runs out of room to place between us.

I shake my head, "Ah yes but you asked me to hold on to it for you, and you did not stipulate under which conditions I was to return it to you. Therefore I made up a set, Sammy, and you will fulfill them."

"No I won't!" He replies petulantly. I shrug and start leaving the bedroom, the lad following.

"Fine. Leave and go back home, to your brother. He must have been stewing in his anger at you for every moment of this past year. How long did you say your parents were gone for? Week or two? Month maybe, I forget. Maybe Tone will be generous, not tickle you till after dinner most days, keep it to the evenings... Except weekends, like today and tomorrow... Hmh. Well, are you going?"

I'm holding the door open for Sammy as he stares uncertainly out into the street. As I watch him, I see he can't even stand still, shifting his weight, sliding his bare soles across the floor and grabbing the table to his left to steady himself.

"...No." He turns around and marches back into my bedroom. I smile and shut the door, locking it and following the dark haired teen.

Have you ever walked into your bedroom and had to stop short in the doorway? I did upon reentering mine that day.

The first thing my eyes caught were a pair of bare feet, pink and slightly dirty from the walk over. Must have been size 11 or 12, long high arches, toes slender like his fingers... Bare legs followed, light mattering of black hair over the soft skin leading into a pair of black shiny shorts. A slight band of pink skin peers out from between black waistband and teal tank top and my eyes follow the contours of the tight shirt as they lead into hairless armpits. Arms raised and gripping the headboard, I stare into a pair of defiant blue-green eyes for a full minute before walking to the bedside.

"Sammy we are going to have a day full of laughter, you and I. Would you like to hear the conditions of the tape's release, or just run headlong into whatever I have planned?" I sit on the bed by his waist as he lowers his arms and glares lightly.

"Tell me."

"Well to receive the tape you have to be in this house once the sun sets this evening, without having left it  – if you do leave, you may return any day you wish to try again, but for every failed day, an hour is added after sunset, and you must show up at the same time as you did today, or earlier. I will throw you out if at any time you do not follow my exact instructions if I give you an order. Is that understood Sammy?" Black mop flies as the boy nods, body shuddering slightly at the thought of extended time.

"Today we will essentially play a series of games, and your performance in them will affect the conditions of the final one." I reach into my bedside table and pull out a timer, and clip it to the top of the headboard. I point out a big green button and a small red one. "The red is to start it. The green is to pause the secondary counter, but only so long as it is held down. It'll run for twenty minutes and beep once its done. You don't want a high secondary time. Got it Sam?"

He looks at it, arms still over his chest, and nods. I nod back and press the red button. It beeps and I watch as Sam's head tilts back to look at it curiously. I sit staring, wondering how long before he – He yells out and reaches up, grabbing the device and pressing down the green button.

"No fair!" He shouts, eyes back onto me. I shrug and grin boyishly as him as my fingers descend upon his teal-clad torso, poking the ribs and stomach of the boy on my bed.

"NEEEHEEE!" He pulls his arms down and rolls away, covering his middle – the device beeps letting him know the green timer is back on. His giggles subside as he reaches for it again over his head. He doesn't even get the chance to press it as my nimble fingers find his exposed bare armpit and he squeals, curling up to protect it.

"EEEHEEHEE! HEEHEESTAAP!" He grabs the timer with his other hand, as my fingers find a place to play in the resulting exposed armpit.

"AAHH NOOHOHO FAIRR! EEHEHEEEHEEEEE!" His giggles and squeals continue as he somehow holds onto the button above his head. It lasts for what must have been a full minute before Sam bucks and lowers both arms again, hugging himself tight.

This time I don't let up, fingers poking anywhere they can worm their way past his arms – sides, ribs, belly. Sam is wriggling on the bed, twisting all over and not once trying for the timer again.

I slow and eventually stop, letting him breathe. He reaches and grabs the button again, I lunge with my fingers extended but don't even make contact before he squeaks and pulls away, another beep proving how powerful his fright. I laugh as he grabs it again. "I didn't even touch you that time."

Sam opens his mouth for what was sure to be the wittiest retort a tickled teen could muster, but sadly for him it will go on unheard for the moment as I grabbed his silk covered hips and squeezed.  

"EAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAAHAAANONONOHHAHAHAA!" He bucked like a horse on the bed and twisted and turned as I squeezed over and over. Eventually he twisted and pulled so hard he fell off the bed, landing in a giggling mess as he pulled my comforter off with him. He scrambled back up and made a grab for the timer, pressing it down as he landed on his stomach.

Not to let an opportunity go to waste, I moved to sit on the back of Sam's thighs and slid my fingers up and down the backs of his bare legs.

"EEHEESTHAHAPPITTT! HEHEHEEHEHEE!" Sammy kicked his legs, twisting them as I poke the backs of his knees. I soon grab both of his ankles, holding his knees bent as my legs wrap around his shins, forcing his own legs to remain bent back at the knee.

"W-what're y- NO! PLEASE NOT THEHEHEHEREEEHEHAHAHAHHAHHAHASATAHAHAPP ITHIHIHIHHHIII AHHAHAHAHAHA! AHAH AHAHAHAHAAA!" Sam thrashes under me as I wiggled my fingertips oh-so-lightly over his bare soles. His fists pounded the bed, the timer being completely forsaken in any attempt to stop my tickling of his feet, but I continued this light teasing tickle until the definitive 'BeeWoo' of the timer finishing its twenty minute run.

I stand and allow the poor tired boy some respite as I retrieve my timer. "I think I'm impressed Sam. 14 minutes, 12 seconds – you managed to hold onto this for nearly six minutes as I tickled you. But you'll wish you had held on longer I bet." I pat his leg as he sits up.

"W-why? What does it mean?" He asks, checking the time himself as if to see if I was lying and the time was less.

I just smile at him and order him to follow me down to the kitchen, where I fix us a nice light, yet filling lunch.

"What do you say we watch a movie Sammy?" I ask him once I've cleaned up after us.

"Sure..." He replies, completely suspicious, and with every reason to be. I lead him to my collection of movies, where I tell him to pick a one he hasn't seen before. To my amazement he picks Star Wars: A New Hope.

"Really? You've never seen this?" He shakes his head, claiming to not have gotten around to it. I shrug and pop it in. As he moves to sit on my recliner, I shake my head. "Not so fast, boyo. Arms behind your back."

"What really? C-come on..." He protests, but complies with my orders, not resisting as I tie his hands behind his back with a length of soft leather.

I turn the chair around 180 degrees and recline it fully, locking it into place as I lie Sammy onto it on his stomach, head positioned perfectly to watch the screen. I take some rope and tie his shoulders to the chair, keeping his chest and head facing that direction, then I proceed to tie his bare ankles to either side of the footrest, toes pointed down and fully exposed and helpless.

I sit on the ottoman facing my entertainment as I turn on Sammy's. The movie goes through all that FBI warning garbage as I explain this round of hysterical fun. "This is how our next game will work – You will watch Star Wars and enjoy it. Every once in a while, this will happen." I abruptly pause my explanation as I scratch up both arches of the feet bound to my recliner. Sam shrieks at the unexpected tickling of his feet.

"Might be longer, might only be that short. After, I will ask you what happened in the scene you just saw as I tickled you. I will be keeping track of how many incorrect answers I receive and for every one... Well that's part of the surprise at the end of the day, but you don't want too many, Sammy boy. Understand?" I punctuate myself by another foot tickle, this time a slow deliberate scratch down the arches to the heels.

"Yes yEEEEEHHEHEEEHEESS YES I GEHEHHEHEHET IIHIHIHIIIT!" Sam wiggles his head, bound hands and hips, but his shoulders and ankles are completely immobile and remain where I placed them.

"Hope so, for your sake Sam. Enjoy the movie!" I flick it on, and as the opening crawl finishes, I start spiderwalking two fingertips up and down the soles in front of me.

"EEHEHEhehAHAHAHAHAASTAHHAAPP NOHHOHOTHINGS HAAHHAAHAPPENED YEHEHEHEETT!! HAHAHAHAHSTAAHAAPPP!!! AHHAAHAHAAHAHAHAAH!" His toes curl and clench, then uncurl and splay, trying desperately to alleviate the tickling sensations traveling through the nerves in his soles.

I continue teasing his bare feet, tied tight to my chair until the scene changes to the interior of the Rebel ship. "So what happened?"

"Nuh-nothin! T-there was a.. a big ship and... and it like ate the little one!" Sam replied, out of breath.

"Eh good enough." I sat back and stared at the bound boy, keeping an ear to the movie, being very glad he picked one I know by heart. Too bad he didn't, especially since I really couldn't help myself and started on his feet again as soon as the droids left the ship.

"EAAHHAHAHAHAHAA AHHAAHAHAHAOHOHMYGAHAHAAD HOOHOHOHOWW CAN I WAHAHHHAHAATCH IHIHIF YOU KEHEHEEEEEEEP KEEP KEEEHEHEHEEP DOING THAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAA!?"

The chair shook and creaked ominously at some points throughout the movie, but it held the teen perfectly in place to both watch the movie and be tickled. I asked him about I think 20 scenes, and he did rather well, only missing eight correct answers.

Sam curled onto the chair as I untied him and told him his score. "S-so I passed..."

I chuckled. "Yeah kid you did. But you forget; its not about a final grade, but the number of incorrect replies. And eight it was."

"What's that mean?" He asked me, and I shook a finger at him. He sighed and followed as I led the way back to my bedroom.

I grab a game box out from the back of my closet and tossed it to Sam. "Twister?"

"Tickle Twister!" I flash a grin at the tired boy as he groans. Honestly what else did he expect? I opened it and took all the components out. Two spinny boards, an hourglass timer with sand in it, a toothbrush, hairbrush, paint brush, few feathers and glove with pointed, dull metal claws on the ends of each finger.

Sam's eyes widened as each was removed from the box, he moved to sit cross legged on the bed with his feet under him, trying to hide them it seemed.

"Spin each board, one will decide the spot, the other picks my tool. Flip the timer and we'll have some fun." Sammy gulps and stares at the sand in the timer.  "Course you can forfeit a round if you choose, and no tickling for the duration of the timer, but you will be penalized later on in the day. Now spin away Sammy!"

He stares nervously at the two boards, arrows limp on the surfaces of the custom made game. He turns to look at the dresser where I stood earlier in the day, assuming that's where I had kept the recording. Sam closed his eyes and gulped, and spun both at once.

I watched as each slowed, and finally landed - one on a spot and the other, a tool. I looked up at Sam and grinned, he sighed and lay back on the bed, arms behind his head. I picked up the paint brush and sat on his left. My right hand grabbed the bottom of his teal tank top and slid it up his stomach, and without warning I started circling the bristles of the paintbrush around his belly button. I flipped the timer on the bedside table as an afterthought.

"EHEEHheheehheeheheeheeeheeeheeeheeeeheeeeheeeee! Theheeeheeheecklesssseeheeeheee! EheEEEEeeeheeeeedohoohohohn't Heheheee!" Sam wiggled lightly as I circled his navel with the brush, either tired or resigned to his fate at the moment. That changed as I dipped the small bristles into his button; he bucked a bit and twisted to his right. I had to place a hand on his hip to keep him steady.

"NOHHHEEEHEHEHEEHEEHEHHEEHEEEHEEHEHEENAHAHAAA CMOHOHOHNN AHAHAHEEHEEEHEHEEHEE! EHEEE EHEEE EEHEEEEEEEHEHEEHEE!" Sam started giggling hysterically when I spun the brush in place, deep within his navel. He bucked and wiggled for a few seconds before I stopped and let him roll away, curling up and covering his stomach with the shirt again.

I just waited for him to sit back up, which he did in a few moments, and handed him the boards again. He pouted adorably, but spun the first one by itself. "N-nooo come on!" The poor ticklish teen whined as the arrow pointed definitively at an image of a pair of bare feet. I merely smiled and shrugged, holding up the other board. Sam flicked it halfheartedly, watching as it lands on the picture of a mouth. He looks up at me questioningly. "What...?"

I grin evilly. I had been desperately trying to control myself all day, but now it was time to really enjoy the pair of feet that had walked into my home those short hours ago.

I reached forward and grabbed his bare ankles, pulling them towards me as Sam fell onto his back once more. I pull his feet together and run the tip of my nose across the expanse of bare ticklish flesh, closing my eyes and inhaling before I open my mouth and lick.

"OHOHOOHMYHHAHHAAGAAAADDDAHAHAHHAHAAWHATAHAHAAAARRE YOOOHOHOHOHUU DOIINGHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHSTAHAAP!" Sammy bucked and wiggled as I held his ankles tightly, running my tongue up his soles over and over. He shrieked and giggled and laughed and cried until the sand ran out.

I lowered his feet, but did not let them go as he composed himself. He stared up at me, I had no idea what was going through his mind as he reached over and spun the boards again.

I pushed his feet to the side, a very difficult thing to do I assure you, and reached for the gloves. He gulped as I donned them, tips clinking as I wiggle them before turning the timer.

Sam had already raised his arms, so I merely had to lean over and drag the dulled, pointy tips of the metal fingers through the hairless armpits he exposed for me.

"EEHEHEEHEHEHAAHAAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAOHOHOHOHOMYGAHAHAHADDDD!! HEHEEHEHEEHAHAAHHAHAHAHAA THEHEHEHEYRE COOHOHOHOLD!! NOOHOHOOHOO!" Surprisingly though he managed to hold still, having laced his fingers behind his head. He rocked side to side, but that was all.

"EHEEHEHEHEHEEEHEEEEE!! EHEHHEEHEEEEHAHAAHAAHAAACOHHOOHOME OHOHONNN! OHOHO HOOHOO hooo hoo... oh ho... Thank God..." All too soon the sand stopped falling and I stopped tickling. But soon enough the arrows spun and each time, the dark haired boy took his tickling, knowing that tape was within his grasp... Until the arrows pointed to feet and claws.

"No! No no no!" He exclaimed as I went to put them back on.

"Do you forfeit this time?" I ask him, half hoping so, even if it means the claws won't rake ticklish laughter from the poor soft-soled teenager.

"Yes, ok? I can't take that - those, there? No. No." I nod and take them off, flipping the timer and letting it run out. After this, I feel it time for the final act of our tickle day; the sun will be setting before I know it. Not soon enough for poor Sam though.

I hastily throw all the Tickle Twister toys back in the box, leaving it on the bedside table. "Alright, those were the three games I had planned out for you, Sam."

"So I can get the tape and go!?" He bursts out, excitedly.

"Haha nope. Not sunset is it, Sammy?" He glances out the window, still a good two hours of sun left in the mid-summer day. He pouts adorably, but follows as I lead him back downstairs, to the door to the basement.

"Time for the final game." I tie his hands behind his back again, much to his chagrin, and open the basement door. I force him down first, closing the door behind me.

"I thought we were done with the games..." Sam says as he stands on the cold floor of my basement, looking around, balanced oddly on his bare soles so as to have them touch the floor as little as possible.

"Your games, yes. This one is all mine." I grin and take him to a large, sheet covered... Thing, in my basement, and sit him in a nice sturdy little chair behind it. I grab the sheet and pull it off.

"No fucking WAY!" Sam exclaims in shock and fear.

I nod and open the top of my self-made stocks set, loud clunk sounding through the lowest room in my house. I stand next to it, and stare expectantly at Sammy as he sits in the chair, curling and uncurling his toes.

"W-what if I say no?" He asks in this tiny voice.

"Well like I explained at the beginning of our day, you have every right to get up and leave. But you'll be leaving without the tape, and I'll have enough time to add probably a fourth game for next time. Or maybe an extra full hour in these..." I pat the wooden frame lovingly, awaiting the decision to come.

Whichever he picked, I win. He'd be back soon enough if he left now. Surely Tony would make sure of that. And if he agreed... Well duh!

Sammy sat there for what must have been five whole minutes, eyes moving from stocks, to door, to me, to his own bare feet, and back before he made his decision.

He took a deep breath as he lifted his bare legs and placed his ankles into the padded lower half of my stocks, shutting his eyes as I shut the top behind them and locking it with a padlock. I removed the key and placed it on a long string, tying it in a loop and sliding it over the mop of black hair of my latest victim. "Keep that safe for me, hmm?"

He looks down at it, before glaring up at me. I just wink at him and move around the basement, gathering things and putting it onto the table next to the stocks. Every time I came near those bare soles locked at waist height, the toes curl and he kinda flinched. Once I finished, I grabbed a chair and sat in front of the stocks.

"You ready?" I asked.

"W-wait. H-how long are you g-gna... Y-you know..." He wiggles his big soft feet.

I chuckle, "Well I had planned on a nice short half hour session..." Sam gasped and tried to pull his feet out, but I built my stocks to last; they didn't even creak as they stood there unmoving, trapping a pair of soft size 12 boy soles.

"Buuuut... Well you had a time of fourteen minutes and something seconds on that timer didn't you? Well that has to be added to the time, and since I forget how many seconds it was, lets just make it a nice even fifteen minutes shall we?" I smirk as he shakes his head. "But then there was the movie, and the eight scenes you couldn't properly identify. Tsk tsk, another two minutes for those shall we say? Each."

Sam's eyes widen more and more as I speak.

"And of course, Tickle Twister. You forfeit your time on the last spin. Each forfeit adds another nine minutes to your total time in these stocks. So that leads out to..." I lift up a large-faced digital clock timer, with 1:00:00 flashing.

"P-please. Y-you know how t-ticklish my feet are. I-I-I'll die!" I chuckle as I set it down.

"You'd be the first to follow through on that, Sammy. Oh I almost forgot!" I hold up a ball of twine, unwinding some and tying one end to an eye hook screwed into the top of the stocks. Then I slide it between his biggest and second left toes and then back around the big one, returning to tie it tightly to the hook. I do the same for the other toe.

"NO! C'mon! This isn't fair! I can't... Ngh! Can't wiggle them at all!" And it was true, his feet were nearly completely immobile, only his smaller four toes could wiggle just a bit on either foot now that I had tied his big toes back.

I licked my lips as I stared at the expanse of soft, ticklish flesh, locked and bared for my amusement. I pushed the timer on the clock and pressed my fingertips to his arches.

"NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOMYGHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHADDDHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAAHAHA AHAHAHAHAANAAHAHAHASTAHHAAAPPIIHIHIHIITT AHAHAAHAH EHEHEHEEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHA A AHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAHPLEHEEHEEHEASE!" He was bouncing and wiggling in the chair, head tilted back, braced against the top of the back of it as he laughed hysterically. My fingers slid up and down his soles, savoring the soft sensitive skin of the pulled back feet.  

"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAA! AHA AHA AHA AHAAAAAAAHHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAA! HAHA AHAHAHAHAH STAHPP HAHAHAHAAHAHASTAAAAAPGAHAHAHAAA!" Sam didn't stop until I did, but only so long as to grab a long blue feather from the table. I leaned back and swished it across the immobile soles.

"EEHEEEHEHEEEEEEEWHAAHATIHIHSTHAHAAAT NEHEEEHEEHEHEHEHEEHEHEEEEHEGEEHT IT AWAHAHAHAAAYY HEEHEHEHEHEEHEHSHAHAAHTAP! EEHEE EEHEEE EEEHEEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEEE!" Apparently he had never felt the light, itchy soft tickle of a feather before. Suffice it to say he didn't care much for it. Especially as I sawed it between his toes. Good thing I reinforced the arms and back of that chair, is all I gotta say on that.

"AAAAAHAHAAHAHAAAHAAAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAH AHAHA AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"

I stopped, and put that single feather down next to its matching brother, to be used later. Instead I pushed the chair back, knelt down in front of the stocks and started nibbling on Sammy's right heel.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEEE! STAP STAP STAP STAAAAEEEEPHEHHEEHEHEEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEEHEHEEHEE! HEEHEEEEEE! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAOH GOHOHD ITS COOOOOOLDHAAHAHAHHAHAAAHAH AAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAA!!!" Poor Sam, not noticing the ice I had grabbed from the freezer I kept down here and placed it into a cup on the table. I popped one cube into my mouth as I grabbed the feather before, and now my tongue was rather chilly, lapping all over his soles, paying special attention to the toes.

"HAHAHAHAOAAAOHOHNOHOHAOHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHASHTHAAOAAPP CHAHAHAHAAAHHNT TAHAHAHAKE IT!! EEEEHEEHEEHEHEHEEEEHEHEHEE!"  Every time my mouth warmed up, I slipped another ice cube between my lips and ran my fingers across his toes as it melted. Every time my tongue touched his feet after, he jumped so high, screaming, like a jolt straight to his nervous system.

"AEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEEEHEHEEEEHEEHEEEEEHEEHEEEEE!"

All too soon I ran out of ice, and I looked at the time. I swore as I noticed only nine minutes left on it. I got up and went to the freezer, fishing something out and returning quickly. "My, time does fly when you're having fun, eh Sammy?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," The boy kept repeating in a hoarse whisper, thinking it was over. Poor thing, he didn't even raise his head to see what was coming.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Sam screamed, shrilly and loudly before delving into silent laughter. I shivered – not from the shriek from the teen I was torturing, but from the cold of the metal gloves I had placed in the freezer, each identical to the Tickle Twister ones - except this time they're actually ice cold, not just metal-in-room-temperature cold.

Sam sat there, unmoving, eyes clenched tightly shut and mouth wide open. He was caught in silent, tortured laughter as I moved the claws all over his bound soles. Circling the heels, zig zagging up the arches, drawing lines across the balls and under the toes and sliding between them, and up them, and around and back down to do it all again.

For nine minutes, my basement was quieter than a church, frozen clawed fingers extracting peels of silent laughter from the feet of the boy in my basement. Once the timer buzzed, indicating the prescribed hour had finished, it took everything I had to stop. For years I regretted stopping, too...

But as an honorable man, I peeled the gloves off, tossing them aside as I sat there, looking at Sammy properly for the first time in an hour. His head was tilted all the way back, black mop soaked with sweat. His face was beet red and his mouth was still pulled back into a smile. His tank top stuck to him even more than before, sopping wet, as were his shorts. His soles, still tied into my stocks were red as well, beautifully tickled pink.

I untied his toes, he giggled as the string was slid between his toes. I gave him a drink from some water from the freezer I had taken out; he needed it. The key was removed from his neck and the stocks unlocked.

Sammy had moved barely an inch before this, to get his tired mouth to the straw to drink, but as soon as the stocks lifted off his ankles, he tore them out of there, so fast it was like he thought them to be a croc's mouth about to snap back shut.

I half carried the boy upstairs, sitting him back in the chair he had first collapsed into upon arriving all those hours ago. After a good ten minutes had passed, he finally spoke.

"T-the tape?" I looked outside and sure enough, it was dark out. I nodded, and rose to get the tape, but faltered.

"Its late, and you know Tony's probably waiting for you." Sam's eyes snapped to me, pure fear in their blue-green depths. "Calm down, I won't send you back there tonight. I have a guest bed you can stay in tonight and you can go home in the morning." He still looked fearful, shifting noticeably in the chair every few moments, but in the end he nodded.

Sam showered, put on a pair of new shorts I had bought and never worn, and crashed. I don't think he appreciated the joke I made about being regretful that I hadn't finished the set of stocks that fit on the end of the bed yet... Good humour is just lost on some people!

After the big breakfast I made, to make up for not having had time to make either of us dinner last night, I saw Sam out. I handed him a blank DVD case.

"What's this?" He asked opening it. "Oh!"

Inside was the tape he had forced his brother to make, a year previously. Also, there was a copy of Star Wars IV. "The tape, as promised, and something I think will bring back fond, hilarious memories." I grin as he rubbed his feet across my floor one last time, something he does when he's nervous.

"Heh... Yeah. Thanks... A lot. See ya." With that, Sammy padded down my driveway and down the street. I watched him go - black mop of hair, crinkly teal tank top, stupid magenta shorts I picked up once on a dare and big sensitive bare feet. I stopped to wonder why he chose to wear my shorts home instead of his own, but shrugged and went to the basement for cleanup...

A week later I spied Tony of all people, as I was taking a stroll. He was with a group of what I could only assume to be his wrestling buddies, for they were all dressed in that oh so delicious outfit I had removed the older dark haired brother from, far too long ago. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I grinned as I saw one of the boys reach out, finger extended towards Tony. I turned away as I heard a familiar shriek, then the pounding of countless pairs of boy feet, Tony's obviously in the lead.

I chuckled to myself and was about to pushed the envelope into the mail box before I stopped, and decided to check it again before licking it shut once and for all.  

I sighed. I forgot something. Again. Lying on my desk back at home was the other half on the contents that was supposed to be in this envelope.

I picked up the printed out screen cap from the video I had finished editing – it was a blown up image of a boy, his soles trapped in a pair of stocks, a figure in front tickling the living daylights out of them. The face was difficult to see at that angle, and I also blurred it out to ensure the poor dark haired boy couldn't be identified, as well as my own face – no sense in letting go with anything more than need be shown.

And on the back, scribbled words: "How he got the tape back. I think he's worse than you! Want the proof?"

I shrug, and lick it shut. He didn't need a copy of his own tape I made to know it was from me. I shoved it into the mailbox and walked off in the direction the boys went. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll see them again...