The stealthy invasion of Earth continues as the sinister influence of the insidious alien intruder spreads beyond the campus of Unknown University. Is there ANYONE capable of resisting the monster's seductive power? Certainly not the hapless protagonist of this tale of otherworldly hilarity and lust!
Tickle Toy of the Puppet Master
by
T.T. Gore
This time, I promised myself, would be the last time. Yeah, sure! I’d made that promise to myself several times before—but it never survived a look into sweet, slender Michael’s big brown eyes.
There was something weird about the whole thing! I knew it from the first. Oh, sure, I’d always been bi-curious in a vague kind of way. I told myself that it was no big deal, that most guys experienced such thoughts and feeling at one time or another. And until I met Michael thought of actually DOING anything kinky with another guy never really crossed my mind. If it’s all the same to you I’d rather not describe how I got involved with him. Suffice to say that soon after he moved into the apartment two doors down from mine we happened to meet in the fitness room one afternoon and…and…eventually I wasn’t curious about bi any more…
But I experienced such GUILT about the things we did together! I felt that it was wrong—I told myself that it was just a passing phase—and I insisted to myself that I just HAD to break things off with him. Easier said than done! Because once we were naked together, and Michael had his arms around my neck, and he was whispering lewd things into my ear, I found it hard to resist his blandishments!
That’s how it was that I permitted him to put me in bondage. We were all alone together in the bedroom of the old, secluded farmhouse that his parents owned—a favorite venue for our illicit trysts.
“It’ll be FUN!” he insisted when I expressed a doubt. “My big, strong stud, all tied up, begging me to make him cum! And I’ll tease you and tease you …before I please you and please you and please you…”
Put that way, it DID sound like fun! Besides, it was difficult to argue with Michael when we were naked, kneeling face to face at the foot of the bed, and my balls were in the palm of his hand. He have them a playful squeeze, which caused me to shiver.
“Well?” Michael inquired. “How about it, Tommykins?”
That was his pet name for me. Ah, how I hated it—and loved it—when he cooed at me in that manner while running his fingers through my dark chest hair! You’ll roll your eyes, but when he did that I felt kind of like Michael owned me…like I was his pet or something…
“All right…” I gulped.
Big mistake!
Michael had everything prepared. In minutes I was spreadeagled in the doorway of the bedroom, wrists and ankles lashed to four stout ringbolts that had been screwed into the doorframe. A rather delicious sensation of helplessness swept over me as I tested the bonds. Now don’t get the wrong idea! I wasn’t QUEER for Michael or anything! It was just…it was just…it was just that he made me feel…different. Kind of naughty…and vulnerable. And it was so HARD to say no to him when we were naked together!
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, big boy!” Michael snickered, running his eyes over my bare body. “Mmmm, and you ARE a big boy, this afternoon, aren’t you? Yes, I can see that you’re ready to be teased!”
It was only then that I noticed the small table against the wall by the doorway. On it had been placed a large bottle of baby oil, a big white feather and a wooden spoon.
“Omygod!” I whined as the realization dawned that I was in for another new experience! “This is SO fucking KINKY, Michael!”
“Ha, you don’t know the HALF of it, Tommykins!” He stepped close. There was something about his smile that gave me a warm, greasy feeling low in my belly.
“Mmmm,” he sighed, “The Prime Contact is generous! I DO like your body hair! It tickles me when we’re fooling around!”
“T-t-t-tickles you…?” I stammered. “And who’s the P-p-p-prime Contact…?”
“The Prime Contact is the entity who made our relationship possible, Tommykins. But enough about that! We were talking about tickling, weren’t we? I happen to be just a little bit ticklish, you know! And how about you, big boy?”
“You mean am I ticklish? Um, well…I…that is…” What was he getting at? “I guess I really don’t know…”
“You don’t?” Michael exclaimed. “Well, it looks to me as though we have a perfect opportunity to find out!”
And before I could reply, he darted his fingers into my exposed armpits!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I squealed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Does it?” Michael replied. “Does it tickle a little—or does it tickle a LOT—?”
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked—which gave him his answer! It DID tickle a lot! It tickled like MAD—!
“Well, well, WELL!” Michael snickered, digging his fingers into my pits with redoubled enthusiasm. “Isn’t THIS interesting! My big strong stud has a SENSITIVE side!”
“EEEEYAAAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I shrieked, jerking my torso to and fro in a futile attempt to dodge Michael’s excruciating assault. “OH GAAAAW-HAW-AAAAW-HAW-HAAAAD!!! YOU’RE KILL-HILL-HILLING MEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“KILLING you?” Michael shot back. “It’s only a little TICKLING, big boy! Don’t tell me you’re too much of a PUSSY to HANDLE it!”
Yes, it was only a little tickling—and it was driving me BUGFUCK! I now had cause to regret the alacrity with which I’d agreed to let him put me in bondage! But the idea of being helpless in his hands made me WICKED horny! Well, that’s what happens when you let your COCK do your thinking for you!
After several minutes of nonstop hilarity, he granted me a short respite. I hung there in my bonds, gasping and sweating. “Why…why…why are you doing this, Michael?” I moaned. “It’s driving me fucking NUTS!”
“Why am I doing this?” he sneered. “Because I enjoy making a handsome, horny stud like you wiggle and squeal like a fucking SISSY!”
“But I can’t STAND it!” The whiny tone of my voice made me cringe with chagrin. “Michael, I’m BEGGING you! I swear to GOD—I’ll do anything you WANT—only please please PLEASE don’t TICKLE me any more!”
“Poor BABY!” he snickered, running his fingers through my chest hair in that insinuating, proprietary way of his. “So masculine…so virile…yet so sensitive…”
“EEEEEEEEK!!!” I screeched as he tweaked a rigid nipple. It HURT! But it was the kind of pain that made me…made me…made me wish that he do it again…
“See?” Michael whispered. “This is the REAL you, Tommykins! The pussy boy who LIKES it when I’m mean to him!” He tweaked my other nipple, eliciting another girlish shriek. “And you like my tickles, too! Don’t deny it! I can tell from the way you sway your hips when I stroke those hairy ARMPITS of yours!”
His mocking words made me squirm with humiliation! Because Michael was right—of COURSE he was right! Even when he’d had me laughing my fucking ASS off, my cock was standing tall! In fact, the more he TICKLED me the stiffer it GOT—!
Michael saw that I understood and he patted my cheek. “Now there’s just one more thing,” he whispered.
“W-w-w-what?”
“Tell me that you LOVE me, Tommykins!” he commanded.
“WHAT—?!” I yelled.
“Tell me that you love me,” he repeated. I want to hear you SAY it!”
“But I CAN’T say that, Michael!” It’s…it’s not…”
“Not true?”
“No!”
“Well,” he sneered, “I think that it IS true! You’re just afraid to ADMIT it, that’s all!”
“I am NOT afraid to admit it!” I insisted. “I mean I don’t—I’m not—I’m not LIKE that!”
“Is that your final word?”
“Yes!”
“Then I have no choice,” Michael hissed, “but to TICKLE the truth out of you, Tommykins!”
And he suited the action to the words by digging his fingers into my ribs!
“OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO!!!” I bellowed. “IT ISN’T TRUUUUUU-HUU-HUU-HUU-HUUUUE!!! I’M NOT THAT WAAAAY-HAY-HAAAAY!!!”
“Tell me that you love me and maybe I’ll stop TICKLING you!”
“GAAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” I screamed.
“Say it!” Michael commanded, shooting his fingers into my pits.
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEHEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
SAY it!”
But I WOULDN’T say it and he couldn’t MAKE me! So the torture went on and on and ON! I writhed and sweated and leaked pre-cum and laughed like a stupid fucking LOONY bird as Michael dug his sharp-nailed fingers into my ribs and armpits! I shrieked when he tweaked my NIPPLES and squealed when he scratched my BELLY button and howled when he stroked my THIGHS! I was losing my fucking MIND—and I’d never felt SEXIER in my entire fucking LIFE—!
And the same was obviously true of Michael, who was in quite a manly way himself! From time to time his left hand strayed from its ticklish task to stroke his erect penis. Yes, it was all TOO obvious that my slender tormenter was greatly enjoying my hilarious travails!
Finally, after tickling me into an uncontrollable, unbearably protracted fit of laughter that left me gasping desperately for air, Michael mercifully relented. “You could use a break, Tommykins, couldn’t you?” he snickered. “Well, all right—but only a short one, I’m afraid!”
“Michael…” I wheezed after dragging some much-needed oxygen into my laboring lungs. “Please…no more… Can’t…take…any more…”
“Hmmm, yes, I suppose you could do with a pick-me-up. And I have just the thing!” He snatched up the wooden spoon and smacked it into the palm of his hand. “Slap and tickle, Tommykins—and we’ve tried tickling!”
“Omygod!” I whined. “What are you going to DO—?!”
By way of answer, Michael ducked between my legs. He was behind me now and I knew what was coming next! I opened my mouth to beg for mercy but—!
CRACK! The spoon made a sound like popcorn popping as it swatted my bare buttocks! “EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!” I screeched.
“Come on, Tommykins—say it!” Michael commanded.
“But I CAN’T—!” CRACK!
“EEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAA!!!”
“Say it, Tommykins!” CRACK!
“GAAAAAARRRRRRUGH!!!”
“Say you love me!” CRACK!
“AAAAAARRRRRRGH!!!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Michael chastised my fanny with stroke after stroke of the wooden spoon—but despite the pain and humiliation, I refused to tell him what he wanted to hear! Despite my weakness for his demanding embraces, to confess my love for him was simply UNTHINKABLE! What would it MEAN if I pronounced those fatal words?! My world would be turned on its HEAD—!
I was blubbering like an adolescent GIRL by the time that Michael finally took pity on me and laid the spoon aside. “You’re a stubborn one!” he exclaimed, once more running his fingers through my chest hair, which was now damp with sweat.
“Now I must admit that it’s fun to be mean to you,” he whispered. “But I can be nice, too!” he picked up the feather from the table and tickled my nostrils with it, a caress that brought tears to my eyes. “Ummm-hmmm, with THIS little toy I can be VERY nice to you, Tommykins!”
And he demonstrated what he meant by swirling that feather around the swollen head of my yearning member!
“UNNNNNNGH!!!” I grunted, twisting in my bonds as a jolt of sexy excitement shot down my cock, straight into my balls and belly! “GAAAARRRRUMPH!!!”
“It TICKLES, doesn’t it?” Michael whispered. He put his free hand on my heaving chest. “But it tickles in a way that you LIKE, isn’t that so? I think it’s time to devote some attention to your special places!”
So saying, Michael ducked between by wide-open legs to take position behind me. This made my skin crawl! I couldn’t SEE him and I didn’t know what he was going to DO—!
But I found out soon enough!
“HIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!!” I shrieked as the feather caressed my tense balls! The horrific sensation shot through my body like a bolt of lightning, causing the hairs on my arms and legs to spring to attention! It was maddening—unendurable—but I was helpless—HELPLESS!
For the next ten minutes I writhed in an ecstasy of sweet torment as Michael subjected the most delicate and sensitive portions of my masculine anatomy to a thorough feather-dusting. Cock—balls—asshole—all were treated to a prolonged kiss of the feather! I moaned with lust as the underside of my penis was tickled—I laughed hysterically as my balls were stroked—I squealed with humiliation as my tightly puckered orifice was probed!
I have no idea at ALL how long this torment lasted before he passed once more between my trembling legs. But suddenly there he was, gazing deep into my eyes with a dreamy expression.
“You DO like it, don’t you? Michael whispered, returning his attention to the head of my cock. “I can tell, Tommykins! You are SO excited—!”
“Oh GOD!” I cried, arching my back and thrusting against the hellish feather. “Oh SHIT—oh FUCK—oh fucking SHIT—oh fucking PLEASE you have to let me fucking CUM—!”
“And I will, Tommykins, I will!” Michael chuckled, drawing the feather back so as to deny me any possibility of release. “Just tell me that you LOVE me and I’ll make you cum like a fucking STALLION—!”
“But I can’t DO that!” I protested tearfully. “I just CAN’T—!”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t permit you to ejaculate!” Michael shot back, flourishing the feather in my face. “No, I’m afraid I’ll just have to keep TICKLING you, Tommykins!”
And he was as good as his word! I wiggled and danced and squirmed as the hellish feather swirled over my thighs, and my upright organ, and my belly, and my erect nipples. I laughed and wept and begged for release but Michael was implacable! God, I thought, he was going to drive me INSANE—!
But suddenly the torture stopped and I blinked the tears from my eyes and saw that he was smiling at me fondly and I sobbed with servile gratitude of his mercy!
“Good boy!” Michael chirruped. “You SAID what was required of you, Tommykins! The Prime Contact TOLD me that you would if I provided the proper motivation!”
“I s-s-s-said it…?” Had I really? There was no memory of the words in my mind. But as I hung there gasping with beads of sweat trickling down my arms, torso and legs, I realized that I felt…different. Something deep within me had…changed.
“Yes, you said it.” He smiled sardonically. “They all do, sooner or later—and in your case, I’m glad to say, it was later. Because I DO enjoy tormenting you Tommykins! But jut now…well…I did promise you your reward…”
My heart fluttered and a thrill shot through my balls as Michael reached for the bottle of baby oil…
Now don’t get me wrong! I’m not some FAG! But I realize now that I really DO love Michael! It MUST be true because I simply CANNOT say no to him! Was it the tickling? Did it change me in some way? How could that BE?! And why do I feel that what has happened to me is part of something bigger—MUCH bigger—than I can possibly imagine—?
Tickle Toy of the Puppet Master
by
T.T. Gore
This time, I promised myself, would be the last time. Yeah, sure! I’d made that promise to myself several times before—but it never survived a look into sweet, slender Michael’s big brown eyes.
There was something weird about the whole thing! I knew it from the first. Oh, sure, I’d always been bi-curious in a vague kind of way. I told myself that it was no big deal, that most guys experienced such thoughts and feeling at one time or another. And until I met Michael thought of actually DOING anything kinky with another guy never really crossed my mind. If it’s all the same to you I’d rather not describe how I got involved with him. Suffice to say that soon after he moved into the apartment two doors down from mine we happened to meet in the fitness room one afternoon and…and…eventually I wasn’t curious about bi any more…
But I experienced such GUILT about the things we did together! I felt that it was wrong—I told myself that it was just a passing phase—and I insisted to myself that I just HAD to break things off with him. Easier said than done! Because once we were naked together, and Michael had his arms around my neck, and he was whispering lewd things into my ear, I found it hard to resist his blandishments!
That’s how it was that I permitted him to put me in bondage. We were all alone together in the bedroom of the old, secluded farmhouse that his parents owned—a favorite venue for our illicit trysts.
“It’ll be FUN!” he insisted when I expressed a doubt. “My big, strong stud, all tied up, begging me to make him cum! And I’ll tease you and tease you …before I please you and please you and please you…”
Put that way, it DID sound like fun! Besides, it was difficult to argue with Michael when we were naked, kneeling face to face at the foot of the bed, and my balls were in the palm of his hand. He have them a playful squeeze, which caused me to shiver.
“Well?” Michael inquired. “How about it, Tommykins?”
That was his pet name for me. Ah, how I hated it—and loved it—when he cooed at me in that manner while running his fingers through my dark chest hair! You’ll roll your eyes, but when he did that I felt kind of like Michael owned me…like I was his pet or something…
“All right…” I gulped.
Big mistake!
Michael had everything prepared. In minutes I was spreadeagled in the doorway of the bedroom, wrists and ankles lashed to four stout ringbolts that had been screwed into the doorframe. A rather delicious sensation of helplessness swept over me as I tested the bonds. Now don’t get the wrong idea! I wasn’t QUEER for Michael or anything! It was just…it was just…it was just that he made me feel…different. Kind of naughty…and vulnerable. And it was so HARD to say no to him when we were naked together!
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, big boy!” Michael snickered, running his eyes over my bare body. “Mmmm, and you ARE a big boy, this afternoon, aren’t you? Yes, I can see that you’re ready to be teased!”
It was only then that I noticed the small table against the wall by the doorway. On it had been placed a large bottle of baby oil, a big white feather and a wooden spoon.
“Omygod!” I whined as the realization dawned that I was in for another new experience! “This is SO fucking KINKY, Michael!”
“Ha, you don’t know the HALF of it, Tommykins!” He stepped close. There was something about his smile that gave me a warm, greasy feeling low in my belly.
“Mmmm,” he sighed, “The Prime Contact is generous! I DO like your body hair! It tickles me when we’re fooling around!”
“T-t-t-tickles you…?” I stammered. “And who’s the P-p-p-prime Contact…?”
“The Prime Contact is the entity who made our relationship possible, Tommykins. But enough about that! We were talking about tickling, weren’t we? I happen to be just a little bit ticklish, you know! And how about you, big boy?”
“You mean am I ticklish? Um, well…I…that is…” What was he getting at? “I guess I really don’t know…”
“You don’t?” Michael exclaimed. “Well, it looks to me as though we have a perfect opportunity to find out!”
And before I could reply, he darted his fingers into my exposed armpits!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I squealed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Does it?” Michael replied. “Does it tickle a little—or does it tickle a LOT—?”
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked—which gave him his answer! It DID tickle a lot! It tickled like MAD—!
“Well, well, WELL!” Michael snickered, digging his fingers into my pits with redoubled enthusiasm. “Isn’t THIS interesting! My big strong stud has a SENSITIVE side!”
“EEEEYAAAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I shrieked, jerking my torso to and fro in a futile attempt to dodge Michael’s excruciating assault. “OH GAAAAW-HAW-AAAAW-HAW-HAAAAD!!! YOU’RE KILL-HILL-HILLING MEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“KILLING you?” Michael shot back. “It’s only a little TICKLING, big boy! Don’t tell me you’re too much of a PUSSY to HANDLE it!”
Yes, it was only a little tickling—and it was driving me BUGFUCK! I now had cause to regret the alacrity with which I’d agreed to let him put me in bondage! But the idea of being helpless in his hands made me WICKED horny! Well, that’s what happens when you let your COCK do your thinking for you!
After several minutes of nonstop hilarity, he granted me a short respite. I hung there in my bonds, gasping and sweating. “Why…why…why are you doing this, Michael?” I moaned. “It’s driving me fucking NUTS!”
“Why am I doing this?” he sneered. “Because I enjoy making a handsome, horny stud like you wiggle and squeal like a fucking SISSY!”
“But I can’t STAND it!” The whiny tone of my voice made me cringe with chagrin. “Michael, I’m BEGGING you! I swear to GOD—I’ll do anything you WANT—only please please PLEASE don’t TICKLE me any more!”
“Poor BABY!” he snickered, running his fingers through my chest hair in that insinuating, proprietary way of his. “So masculine…so virile…yet so sensitive…”
“EEEEEEEEK!!!” I screeched as he tweaked a rigid nipple. It HURT! But it was the kind of pain that made me…made me…made me wish that he do it again…
“See?” Michael whispered. “This is the REAL you, Tommykins! The pussy boy who LIKES it when I’m mean to him!” He tweaked my other nipple, eliciting another girlish shriek. “And you like my tickles, too! Don’t deny it! I can tell from the way you sway your hips when I stroke those hairy ARMPITS of yours!”
His mocking words made me squirm with humiliation! Because Michael was right—of COURSE he was right! Even when he’d had me laughing my fucking ASS off, my cock was standing tall! In fact, the more he TICKLED me the stiffer it GOT—!
Michael saw that I understood and he patted my cheek. “Now there’s just one more thing,” he whispered.
“W-w-w-what?”
“Tell me that you LOVE me, Tommykins!” he commanded.
“WHAT—?!” I yelled.
“Tell me that you love me,” he repeated. I want to hear you SAY it!”
“But I CAN’T say that, Michael!” It’s…it’s not…”
“Not true?”
“No!”
“Well,” he sneered, “I think that it IS true! You’re just afraid to ADMIT it, that’s all!”
“I am NOT afraid to admit it!” I insisted. “I mean I don’t—I’m not—I’m not LIKE that!”
“Is that your final word?”
“Yes!”
“Then I have no choice,” Michael hissed, “but to TICKLE the truth out of you, Tommykins!”
And he suited the action to the words by digging his fingers into my ribs!
“OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO!!!” I bellowed. “IT ISN’T TRUUUUUU-HUU-HUU-HUU-HUUUUE!!! I’M NOT THAT WAAAAY-HAY-HAAAAY!!!”
“Tell me that you love me and maybe I’ll stop TICKLING you!”
“GAAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” I screamed.
“Say it!” Michael commanded, shooting his fingers into my pits.
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEHEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
SAY it!”
But I WOULDN’T say it and he couldn’t MAKE me! So the torture went on and on and ON! I writhed and sweated and leaked pre-cum and laughed like a stupid fucking LOONY bird as Michael dug his sharp-nailed fingers into my ribs and armpits! I shrieked when he tweaked my NIPPLES and squealed when he scratched my BELLY button and howled when he stroked my THIGHS! I was losing my fucking MIND—and I’d never felt SEXIER in my entire fucking LIFE—!
And the same was obviously true of Michael, who was in quite a manly way himself! From time to time his left hand strayed from its ticklish task to stroke his erect penis. Yes, it was all TOO obvious that my slender tormenter was greatly enjoying my hilarious travails!
Finally, after tickling me into an uncontrollable, unbearably protracted fit of laughter that left me gasping desperately for air, Michael mercifully relented. “You could use a break, Tommykins, couldn’t you?” he snickered. “Well, all right—but only a short one, I’m afraid!”
“Michael…” I wheezed after dragging some much-needed oxygen into my laboring lungs. “Please…no more… Can’t…take…any more…”
“Hmmm, yes, I suppose you could do with a pick-me-up. And I have just the thing!” He snatched up the wooden spoon and smacked it into the palm of his hand. “Slap and tickle, Tommykins—and we’ve tried tickling!”
“Omygod!” I whined. “What are you going to DO—?!”
By way of answer, Michael ducked between my legs. He was behind me now and I knew what was coming next! I opened my mouth to beg for mercy but—!
CRACK! The spoon made a sound like popcorn popping as it swatted my bare buttocks! “EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!” I screeched.
“Come on, Tommykins—say it!” Michael commanded.
“But I CAN’T—!” CRACK!
“EEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAA!!!”
“Say it, Tommykins!” CRACK!
“GAAAAAARRRRRRUGH!!!”
“Say you love me!” CRACK!
“AAAAAARRRRRRGH!!!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Michael chastised my fanny with stroke after stroke of the wooden spoon—but despite the pain and humiliation, I refused to tell him what he wanted to hear! Despite my weakness for his demanding embraces, to confess my love for him was simply UNTHINKABLE! What would it MEAN if I pronounced those fatal words?! My world would be turned on its HEAD—!
I was blubbering like an adolescent GIRL by the time that Michael finally took pity on me and laid the spoon aside. “You’re a stubborn one!” he exclaimed, once more running his fingers through my chest hair, which was now damp with sweat.
“Now I must admit that it’s fun to be mean to you,” he whispered. “But I can be nice, too!” he picked up the feather from the table and tickled my nostrils with it, a caress that brought tears to my eyes. “Ummm-hmmm, with THIS little toy I can be VERY nice to you, Tommykins!”
And he demonstrated what he meant by swirling that feather around the swollen head of my yearning member!
“UNNNNNNGH!!!” I grunted, twisting in my bonds as a jolt of sexy excitement shot down my cock, straight into my balls and belly! “GAAAARRRRUMPH!!!”
“It TICKLES, doesn’t it?” Michael whispered. He put his free hand on my heaving chest. “But it tickles in a way that you LIKE, isn’t that so? I think it’s time to devote some attention to your special places!”
So saying, Michael ducked between by wide-open legs to take position behind me. This made my skin crawl! I couldn’t SEE him and I didn’t know what he was going to DO—!
But I found out soon enough!
“HIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!!” I shrieked as the feather caressed my tense balls! The horrific sensation shot through my body like a bolt of lightning, causing the hairs on my arms and legs to spring to attention! It was maddening—unendurable—but I was helpless—HELPLESS!
For the next ten minutes I writhed in an ecstasy of sweet torment as Michael subjected the most delicate and sensitive portions of my masculine anatomy to a thorough feather-dusting. Cock—balls—asshole—all were treated to a prolonged kiss of the feather! I moaned with lust as the underside of my penis was tickled—I laughed hysterically as my balls were stroked—I squealed with humiliation as my tightly puckered orifice was probed!
I have no idea at ALL how long this torment lasted before he passed once more between my trembling legs. But suddenly there he was, gazing deep into my eyes with a dreamy expression.
“You DO like it, don’t you? Michael whispered, returning his attention to the head of my cock. “I can tell, Tommykins! You are SO excited—!”
“Oh GOD!” I cried, arching my back and thrusting against the hellish feather. “Oh SHIT—oh FUCK—oh fucking SHIT—oh fucking PLEASE you have to let me fucking CUM—!”
“And I will, Tommykins, I will!” Michael chuckled, drawing the feather back so as to deny me any possibility of release. “Just tell me that you LOVE me and I’ll make you cum like a fucking STALLION—!”
“But I can’t DO that!” I protested tearfully. “I just CAN’T—!”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t permit you to ejaculate!” Michael shot back, flourishing the feather in my face. “No, I’m afraid I’ll just have to keep TICKLING you, Tommykins!”
And he was as good as his word! I wiggled and danced and squirmed as the hellish feather swirled over my thighs, and my upright organ, and my belly, and my erect nipples. I laughed and wept and begged for release but Michael was implacable! God, I thought, he was going to drive me INSANE—!
But suddenly the torture stopped and I blinked the tears from my eyes and saw that he was smiling at me fondly and I sobbed with servile gratitude of his mercy!
“Good boy!” Michael chirruped. “You SAID what was required of you, Tommykins! The Prime Contact TOLD me that you would if I provided the proper motivation!”
“I s-s-s-said it…?” Had I really? There was no memory of the words in my mind. But as I hung there gasping with beads of sweat trickling down my arms, torso and legs, I realized that I felt…different. Something deep within me had…changed.
“Yes, you said it.” He smiled sardonically. “They all do, sooner or later—and in your case, I’m glad to say, it was later. Because I DO enjoy tormenting you Tommykins! But jut now…well…I did promise you your reward…”
My heart fluttered and a thrill shot through my balls as Michael reached for the bottle of baby oil…
Now don’t get me wrong! I’m not some FAG! But I realize now that I really DO love Michael! It MUST be true because I simply CANNOT say no to him! Was it the tickling? Did it change me in some way? How could that BE?! And why do I feel that what has happened to me is part of something bigger—MUCH bigger—than I can possibly imagine—?
