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The most ticklish bounty hunter in the Wild West (m/m)

aggressiveangel

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Feb 27, 2006
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The year is 1881. My name's Clinton Barrow but my friends just call me Clint. I'm 25 years old but I have a tough time convincing people I'm a day over 18. I'm six feet tall and even though I'm skinny I'm stronger than I look. I feel like my clean cut boyish face keeps people from treating me like an adult or taking me seriously. I tried growing a beard but it was a disgrace to beards everywhere so I thought it better I just keep on shaving for now. So I'm on my way to show people I'm a man a different way. All though many of the women I've had the pleasure of getting to know privately have found out what a man I am by the size of the snake in my trousers but I can't very well go around showing everyone who doubts my manhood my pecker so I'll show them by following in my daddy's footsteps and becoming a feared and respected bounty hunter just like he was. Traveling alone with my horse Poker which I named on account that I won him in a game of Texas Hold Em' and my revolver I'm traveling west through the heart of America in search of Roy Holt, a mean son of a bitch wanted dead or alive with a one thousand dollar reward on his head for some bank robberies and murders he committed back East. Taking the lessons my daddy taught me before he was killed 4 years ago I'm going to find Roy and end his miserable life and bring his corpse back to Missouri so people know I'm not little Clint anymore. I'm a man. My own man. First I gotta catch Roy. I've been tracking him for 4 weeks now and I'm hot on his trail. I've chased him across three states and now I'm right on his heels here in Colorado. Luckily this September weather has been kind to me on my journey and I've been able to keep moving. Now I find myself in a sea of trees as night falls and I've stopped in a nice clearing to set up camp and head out when day breaks. There's plenty of tall grass for Poker to eat and as I lay near the roaring fire the trees seem to bend back to give me a view of all the shining bright stars in the night sky but all I'm looking at is this wanted poster with Roy Holt's face on it. A man in his late 30's and a mustache I wish I could steal from his face and put on mine but the thousand dollar reward will have to suffice. I put the poster down as I make myself comfortable on the grass patch, fully clothed and with my boots on because you're not ready for anything unless you have your boots on. Daddy told me that. I keep my revolver close, take one last look at Poker standing by, and pull the blanket up to my chin as I shut my eyes.

"One thousand dollars, Poker. Once I get it I'll buy you all the hay you can eat. You'll see."

I fall into a deep sleep. Now my daddy taught me many things about bounty hunting. Reading boot prints, finding trails, covering tracks, shooting my revolver but one thing he couldn't teach me was how not to be such a heavy sleeper. I've slept through cattle stampedes and shoot outs. More than a few times mama had to throw a bucket of water on me to get me to wake up to go to school and it was something I haven't out grown to this day.

As I woke up the next morning face down in the grass, on my stomach, I could feel the warm sun on my back along with the cool Colorado breeze on my toes and that's when my eyes shoot open to see my boots and socks off sitting near my face and when I tried to move I realized I couldn't because my hands were tied behind my back and tethered to my bound ankles keeping my feet pointing up at the sky trussed up like a hog. Filled with panic I turn my head the other way to see Roy Holt sitting right there by himself staring at his own wanted poster. He holds up the drawing for me to see. "You really think that looks like me? He asks. "What the hell are you doing to me?!" I yell as I struggle with all my might but Roy tied these ropes tighter than a banker's purse strings and I can hardly move let alone break free so Roy just sits there and watches me struggle for a moment as I realize there's no way I'm getting out of this hogtie. "Let me go right now, Holt and let's deal with this like men!" Roy just laughs and scratches his scruffy face as he smiles at my predicament. Standing about 5'8 even through his clothes you can see he's a strong fella. "Boy you're lucky you just tied up like a pig and not bleeding out like one. I walked up here ready to kill you in your sleep until I saw that it was just a damn kid chasing me through the country." Looks like my boyish face actually saved me this time but this isn't how I'm looking to be treated. "I have two sons, can't be much younger than you and I just didn't have the heart to slice your throat so I did you a favor by just tying you up like this."

Roy stands up and walks over to his all black horse which is grazing right next to Poker and he takes a canteen out of his saddle and drinks up the water as I evaluate my position. He holds up the canteen toward me, "want some?" Water sounds good right now but I don't bother answering him so he pulls out a frying pan from a bag on his horse and pours some water into it and lays it down in front of my face so I can lap it up like a mangy dog but I just spit in it. "Suit yourself but you're gonna get awful thirsty." He warns. "You do what you gotta do, Holt. Just put my boots back on my feet so I can die like a man." I shout at him. Roy calmly takes off his hat to reveal his black messy hair and he takes his revolver out of his holster and I feel fear creep through out my body and I try to stay calm as I tense up. Roy lays his gun down on the grass. "I'm not going to kill you. And you can't die like a man because you're just a boy." That enrages me. "I'm older than I look so don't be a yellow bellied coward and just kill me already." Once again Roy laughs as he takes a seat beside me. "You have a lot of grit, kid. But unfortunately that can only get you so far in the Wild West." He grabs my bound ankles and examines the bottoms of my feet which I try to pull away but there's nothing doing. "Don't touch me!" I yell. "Boy your feet look more delicate than my wife's. I can see you've been letting your horse do most of the walking. When you're really a man your feet won't be so pretty." I have no idea what he's saying but it's just angering me even more but that melts away when he runs his fingers down my foot and I react like someone branded me. "What the hell you doing, Holt?" I ask as Roy continues running his fingertips from my toes down to my heel and I feel myself getting flustered as I start laughing nonsensical like I had a fever. "Hahahahahahahaha Please stop that! Hahahahahahahaha!" But as I start wiggling like a worm at the end of a fishing hook it only serves to encourage Roy and really start lightly scratching my feet with his fingernails and I lose any sort of dignity I might've had as I laugh harder than I've laughed in my life. "Men shouldn't be this ticklish, boy. Look at you go." I twist and shake and do any other movement this hogtie allows me to but none of it is able to give me any escape from Roy's prodding fingers and I feel like I'm losing my breath from laughing so damn much. Roy finally stops and my body goes limp as I lay there on my belly trying to recover.

"I've only seen women and children be that ticklish so maybe you're not quite the man you think you are, boy." Roy mocks me as I catch my breath. "Go to hell, Roy! This isn't the way you-- hahahahahahahahaha!" Roy commences to trace his rough fingertips over the edges of my toes and down my sole and all I can do is laugh and keep wiggling my feet up and down trying to cover one with the other which is useless because Roy just tickles which ever foot I leave exposed and it's maddening to say the least. "This is the most fun I've had in a long time. Life as an outlaw doesn't give you to many laughs but I'll have a good time watching you laugh it up, boy." I want to curse him out with every obscenity I know but I can barely breathe at this point let alone talk. "Hahahahahahahahahahahaha stop! Hahahahahaha! Please! Hahahahahaha!" is all I can get out.

I remember my older sister tickling me when I was a little boy here and there for less than a minute but I've never felt anything like this.

Roy doesn't give me a moment to rest as I keep trying to protect one foot with the other unsuccessfully but it seems like Roy even grows tired of me trying to stop him from tickling me because he stops and walks back over to his horse. I do my best to catch some air and try to rip myself free again but I'm still bound as tight as a drum. "You can let me go now. I'll stop chasing you." I lie but Roy pays me no mind as he comes back toward me holding a thin piece of rope. "Let's see if this keeps those pretty little feet from moving so much." Roy says as he grabs hold of my feet and starts wrapping the little piece of rope around my big toes and when he finishes the knot my feet are stuck side by side now unable to cover one with the other no matter how much I wiggle them around. Roy makes himself comfortable sitting down next to me, I struggle to look back at him to see his shit eating grin and having regained my breath I get brave again, "Roy Holt you twisted son of a whore I'm going to get out of here and as soon as I put my boot back on I'm going to shove it so far up your rear you'll wish you never did this to me! Now let me go this instant!" Roy calmly reaches out and grabs one of my socks and crawls near my face. "Open your mouth" he demands. I don't dare do it. That's when he uses his free hand to tickle my ribs and I burst out laughing and he shoves my moist sock into my mouth and holds it in while I shake my head trying to spit it out but he just calmly removes the bandana from around his neck and uses it to tie around my mouth to hold my sock in there and knots it behind my head. "Mmmmmmphhmmhhmmppphh" I hear myself mumble as Roy goes back down to my feet. "That's much better." I disagree. My tongue felt strange enveloped in my fabric filled mouth and I could taste my own sweat my sock had absorbed over the past couple days. I was just grateful I couldn't smell it from inside my mouth but now I was completely incapacitated at the hands of this mad man days away from the nearest town and I'm the most helpless I've ever been in my life.

In my hogtied position I turn my head back to see Roy rip a handful of tall dry yellow grass. He gets close to my feet and I try to struggle again but it's useless as he uses the pointy ends of the grass to trace down my feet and the horrible ticking affect it has on me is indescribable. I yell into my gag as he commences to go up and down with them like he was painting a fence. "Mmmppphhhhaaaaahahahahammpphaahahaha!!!!" I garble out while trying to wiggle my feet from the frustratingly affective yellow grass that I feel at my toes down to my heel and up again. While I laugh uncontrollably and quietly thanks to the sock in my mouth I pull on the ropes with all of my might but nothing comes of it and I can't even slow Roy down as he has his way with me. "Look at you go, boy." Roy teases as he moves to the tops of my feet and does the same he was doing to the bottoms of my feet and gets the same results of me wriggling my body on the grass like a wounded snake. I can feel myself growing weaker and weaker from laughing continuously and if I could talk I'd say anything to get him to stop running that grass around my feet. "Mmmmphhhahahahammmphh" that was a promise to service him in anyway he wanted that luckily came out like a bunch of nonsense or who knows what he'd end up having me do. Even as I laugh and squirm underneath his fingers I still look back to him and see how much he's enjoying this. So much that he doesn't see the dozen or so Apache Indians standing a dozen feet behind him watching intently as he makes me laugh like a school girl. I can't even point them out as he uses the grass to go in between my toes and drive me mad as the Indians starts to move in closer without Roy realizing it.

(To be continued)
 
Great ... looking forward to the next part. Maybe they are forced to tickle each other ... Clint at a disadvantage, perhaps helped some by the Indians .. or maybe bound together while tickled, become "embarrassed" by arousal in their struggles. I look forward to your path in the continuation. Keep up the great work
 
WOW! You continue to dazzle with your original, potent fiction! Your imagination is truly impressive and your skill with words is unmatched. I loved the situation you described, and I really the dialog and the action. You really get the teasing and humiliation factors of teasing, and you weave those elements into your stories beautifully. I LOVED the way Clint was treated like a ticklish little kid instead of the tough bounty hunter he pretended to be. Roy is a great character and I am on pins and needles wondering if he will subdue the Indians and have a feast or get tied up next to Clint for his own torture. Thanks for writing and sharing.
 
Thank you all very much. I have an idea where I want the story to go but I'll definitely consider all your suggestions.
 
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