johnnybiggs
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Warning: Like a Boeing 767 this baby might take a little runway to take off, but when you’re up in the air you’ll appreciate the first class accommodations. Lots of leg room. This is not a soft story. I believe it will present to some readers a perspective that will make them ask questions about their own motivations. There are graphic sexual scenarios and bondage torture centered around unceasing tickling. I have never been a fan of bd/sm in the context of overt physical brutality but the tickling in this story is torturous and brutal nonetheless. Please Allow me to stress that this entire story is strictly fiction and is merely an extension of fantasy and bondage scenarios that I find erotic. While written predominantly in the first person it is not me. THIS IS CATEGORICALLY NOT A MANIFESTO.
The development of a monster……….
I was a junior in college when my sexuality began to coalesce into a coherent process. Who I was fated to become lay dormant until the spring of my twenty first year. When I use the term coherent, I only mean it in the context that I understand it relative to the things I have done in my life.
Still, understanding the mechanics of my actions never lead to understanding the motivations. I knew the methods I would use to carry out my deeds just not the “WHY?!” Strange. IT STILL DOESN’T MATTER.
I doubt very much that anyone else would use the word coherent in relation to the things I have done and only a uniquely small percentage of the population could grasp the connection between my thoughts and deeds. I understand perfectly. To most, my approach to relationships with others borders on the extreme. I accept that. I ALSO DO NOT APOLOGIZE. TO ANYONE.
I enjoyed then and I enjoy now the merciless things I have done. It would surprise some to also know that a few women have asked me for a return session. Those women truly scare me.
Miraculously, no one has ever been physically harmed. More than a few have been changed tremendously from my time with them. You can even say scarred, (at least emotionally), and be perfectly accurate.
A few instances come to mind.
Liza………
During the late spring of my junior year in college I found myself domestically unattached. My long time girlfriend, (Darla), broke it off with me and I was pretty devastated. For the longest time only numbness supplanted the anger and heartbreak. The emotional devastation made for a lousy junior year and I think I was actually poisoned against a further relationship.
I even went and talked with a college counselor a few times. I held it together, passed my classes but avoided the coeds like the plague. Fall turned to winter and winter turned to spring and I had not even had a real conversation with a girl in months.
My roommates knew how bad I was and quite literally dragged me down to a small man made local lake. It even had a half acre fake beach with imported white sand. It sat at the mouth of a small valley and was fed by a tiny little creek that kept it full of water that was virtually never warm enough to swim in.
Sitting there, I was shocked to physically see and feel and taste and smell that winter had given way to a pretty nice spring. Until this day I had been in an unending cocoon that robbed me of even the simplest pleasures. A whole school year had evaporated and I had sleepwalked through it. Perhaps it was time. I kept putting going home to my small hometown and running into Darla as far back in my mind as possible. Still, with only a couple weeks of school left it was becoming more real. I made a real, almost supreme, effort to enjoy the day.
So there I was at this nice little lake, sitting in the soft green grass drinking a cold beer with my friends. I could almost enjoy it. We sat by the beach, (such as it was), and watched a group playing volleyball. The game was awful but I found myself attracted to an average looking girl with a nice build. I hadn’t noticed a girl in many months.
I was shocked when my friend Brandt commented on my staring, “I think you’re making her a little uncomfortable, Biggs.”
“What?” I was so distracted I hardly knew he was talking to me.
“I said you are staring dude. You’re making her self-conscious.” He chuckled a bit.
“She reminds me of Darla. Didn’t mean to stare.” I was a little surprised that I was so wrapped up in this girl.
“I can see the resemblance. No big deal.” He, more than anyone, knew I how broken up I was. With a shrug he played it off.
We finished our beers and headed for the car. We were almost there when the girl from the park kinda hurried over and shyly introduced herself. “Um…Can I ask you something? She called over my shoulder. She looked a little bit embarrassed.
“Sure.” I answered noncommittally.
“I noticed you looking at me. Have we ever met?” she was getting cold feet.
“Nope, I just think you’re kinda cute. Sorry if I embarrassed you.” I said.
“Well, you did stare a little bit much, but you seem like a nice guy.” I think she was swayed by my manners and harmless looking friends. Big mistake.
“Well, didn’t mean any harm. My friends call me Biggs.” I held out my hand.
She considered for a second before reaching out, “I’m Liza.” In that split second my mind made a million predatory calculations. All while I smiled my most benign smile.
I could feel how unimaginably soft her hands were. It hit me like a kick in the nuts. Not just her, but I needed to be with a girl.
I knew she was squeezing a little harder than normal. I could see the muscles and tendons in her forearms tensing. She wanted to impress. That was a good thing. I knew right then if I played my cards right that Liza would soon be eating a piece of pizza with me at Gianni’s. We would sit in a public booth and hope that nobody we knew would see us. We knew better.
“Nice name, it fits.” I smiled again.
“What’s that mean?” She thought I was being a smart ass.
“Nothing, I just meant its a cute name and I could see you being a Lisa.” I was stumbling a little and she kinda enjoyed that.
“Well, I could say the same about Biggs. It fits you.” I knew she was right. I would have guessed that my name might be something like that if I met myself. I’m pretty tall and not at all skinny. In fact, I should spend a little more time at the gym.
We made more small talk and lo and behold my self prediction of pizza at Gianni’s came true. The date was set for Wednesday and we agreed on jeans and t-shirts. General college attire. At least at state colleges I went to.
All week I was pretty busy so I did actually lose track a little bit. Maybe it was a bit of post breakup hangover but I wasn’t actually breathless with anticipation. Still, I remembered how wonderful our handshake felt and I would get a little jolt.
I guess I’m kind of aging myself here but this was in the years before many people had mobile phones so communication could be sporadic. I tried the number she gave me on Monday and no answer. I figured if nobody answered on Tuesday I’d just chalk it up as a missed opportunity. I called after dinner and I recognized her voice. I was glad she picked up.
“Hello.” She sounded as if she had no idea who could be calling.
“Liza?” I was just being polite.
“Oh, hi Biggs.” I could hear a little smile in her voice. I was mildly surprised.
“Um….are we still on for tomorrow?” I wasn’t sure.
“Yep. We just have to keep it early. I have a test on Thursday morning.”
“Should we reschedule for later?” This wasn’t my first rodeo.
“No, I’m pretty sure I know the stuff for the test. I just wanna be at my best. So, no late night.”
“Okay, great.” We made a little more small talk and I let her off the line.
We met at six at Gianni’s and she had on a cute pair of jeans and an immaculate tee and I could tell she spent a little time on her hair and makeup. Her short brown hair, (like Darla’s), was cute and I really began to reassess my initial thoughts. She really was best described as sneaky pretty. You might miss it at first look but the longer you looked the prettier she became. By the end of the meal I went from mildly interested to smitten. She seemed to be enjoying our time and she lingered longer than I thought she would after we ate. I had a couple beers and she drank a Coke and a bit of a refill. Her laugh was pretty sweet.
I made it a point not to give her an obvious once over when she walked in so I didn’t get a good look at her feet until later in the meal. I really did accidentally drop my napkin and when I bent to pick it up I saw she had on flip flops. What an unbelievable surprise. She had burgundy painted nails and her feet were perfect. Graceful high arches. Flawless skin. Long supple toes. Geez. I might have exploded if I could feel her soles. I was remembering how soft her hands were.
From the very first moment when I realized I was attracted to girls, I also realized I was hopelessly attracted to their feet. I liked everything about girls but it was their faces and feet that rocked my world.
Okay. TMI time here. I became uncomfortably hard almost immediately. I mean that almost instantly I was painfully erect. Sometimes I liked to freebalI, you know, a young man’s liberation from the tightly whities. Not only was my unfettered dick trying to work its way out through my 501’s but I could actually feel my pulse thundering in my ears. I was having trouble keeping up with the conversation and my throat was so dry I could barely swallow.
I didn’t want to have another beer so I did a very, perhaps overly, familiar thing. I just casually reached over and picked up her Coke and sipped through the straw. Instantly, I knew I had crossed a line. A much more significant line than I could have imagined. I could actually feel her pull back. Physically, she sat back, pulled away a little. Emotionally, she just cut the cable and left me drifting in space. There were two of us at the table but I was all alone. It was Darla all over again, just in miniature.
Things had been going so well too. From my little,(miniscule actually), faux pas, however, there was an abrupt backward progression. The date all but ended with her telling me she had to go study for the test. I felt pretty annoyed that things had slipped so quickly and I was irritated that she was making such a big deal out of nothing. It was just a sip of Coke. Fuck.
I smiled when she got up to leave and I got up as well. I knew I would walk her to her car but there was no chance for a goodnight kiss. We probably had just had our first and last date. Anyway, I did walk her out. We both enjoyed the comfortable spring breeze as we walked to the car but we didn’t say much. Its almost impossible to be so crestfallen but so unbelievably horny at the same time but that pretty much describes it.
“Well, thanks for a fun dinner Liza. We’ll have to do it again.” I could tell she just wanted to get in her car.
“Ok, I’ll be pretty busy with finals and all but call me and we’ll see if we can work it it. Thanks for dinner.” This time, she was the one holding out her hand. Dates that end in a handshake are a real shit sandwich. Still, I smiled and took her impossibly soft hand, which now came to embody all things feminine and heartbreaking. I said goodnight, gently closed her door and almost called her Darla for the umpteenth time. It occurred to me that right now she was just like Darla and possibly all women were this cruel.
It occurred to me, maddeningly, as she drove away, that as she slid into her car that her jean cuffs bunched over the top of her foot and accentuated the creamy white skin and her dark red toes. They were so sexy in that brief second that the memory remains burned in my mind over thirty years later.
I was so angry that this beautiful girl was going to shut me out, (just like Darla), that the only way I avoided a physical collapse was to grab the tailgate of the pickup truck parked in the spot next to the vacated spot that Dar…..I mean Liza….just vacated. In order to keep myself upright I made a contract with myself. With both hands clinging for dear life to the top rail of that tailgate I swore that I was not going to let this stand. No matter the cost or effort I would have my satisfaction. I felt the blood return to my lungs and legs and even my now long forgotten hard on. I was not going to be the guy holding the bag ever again. In fact, I would have the last laugh. The last laugh. THE LAST LAUGH…..I was inwardly boiling as I held onto this thought as I smiled, gathered myself and waved as she drove away.
To be continued
The development of a monster……….
I was a junior in college when my sexuality began to coalesce into a coherent process. Who I was fated to become lay dormant until the spring of my twenty first year. When I use the term coherent, I only mean it in the context that I understand it relative to the things I have done in my life.
Still, understanding the mechanics of my actions never lead to understanding the motivations. I knew the methods I would use to carry out my deeds just not the “WHY?!” Strange. IT STILL DOESN’T MATTER.
I doubt very much that anyone else would use the word coherent in relation to the things I have done and only a uniquely small percentage of the population could grasp the connection between my thoughts and deeds. I understand perfectly. To most, my approach to relationships with others borders on the extreme. I accept that. I ALSO DO NOT APOLOGIZE. TO ANYONE.
I enjoyed then and I enjoy now the merciless things I have done. It would surprise some to also know that a few women have asked me for a return session. Those women truly scare me.
Miraculously, no one has ever been physically harmed. More than a few have been changed tremendously from my time with them. You can even say scarred, (at least emotionally), and be perfectly accurate.
A few instances come to mind.
Liza………
During the late spring of my junior year in college I found myself domestically unattached. My long time girlfriend, (Darla), broke it off with me and I was pretty devastated. For the longest time only numbness supplanted the anger and heartbreak. The emotional devastation made for a lousy junior year and I think I was actually poisoned against a further relationship.
I even went and talked with a college counselor a few times. I held it together, passed my classes but avoided the coeds like the plague. Fall turned to winter and winter turned to spring and I had not even had a real conversation with a girl in months.
My roommates knew how bad I was and quite literally dragged me down to a small man made local lake. It even had a half acre fake beach with imported white sand. It sat at the mouth of a small valley and was fed by a tiny little creek that kept it full of water that was virtually never warm enough to swim in.
Sitting there, I was shocked to physically see and feel and taste and smell that winter had given way to a pretty nice spring. Until this day I had been in an unending cocoon that robbed me of even the simplest pleasures. A whole school year had evaporated and I had sleepwalked through it. Perhaps it was time. I kept putting going home to my small hometown and running into Darla as far back in my mind as possible. Still, with only a couple weeks of school left it was becoming more real. I made a real, almost supreme, effort to enjoy the day.
So there I was at this nice little lake, sitting in the soft green grass drinking a cold beer with my friends. I could almost enjoy it. We sat by the beach, (such as it was), and watched a group playing volleyball. The game was awful but I found myself attracted to an average looking girl with a nice build. I hadn’t noticed a girl in many months.
I was shocked when my friend Brandt commented on my staring, “I think you’re making her a little uncomfortable, Biggs.”
“What?” I was so distracted I hardly knew he was talking to me.
“I said you are staring dude. You’re making her self-conscious.” He chuckled a bit.
“She reminds me of Darla. Didn’t mean to stare.” I was a little surprised that I was so wrapped up in this girl.
“I can see the resemblance. No big deal.” He, more than anyone, knew I how broken up I was. With a shrug he played it off.
We finished our beers and headed for the car. We were almost there when the girl from the park kinda hurried over and shyly introduced herself. “Um…Can I ask you something? She called over my shoulder. She looked a little bit embarrassed.
“Sure.” I answered noncommittally.
“I noticed you looking at me. Have we ever met?” she was getting cold feet.
“Nope, I just think you’re kinda cute. Sorry if I embarrassed you.” I said.
“Well, you did stare a little bit much, but you seem like a nice guy.” I think she was swayed by my manners and harmless looking friends. Big mistake.
“Well, didn’t mean any harm. My friends call me Biggs.” I held out my hand.
She considered for a second before reaching out, “I’m Liza.” In that split second my mind made a million predatory calculations. All while I smiled my most benign smile.
I could feel how unimaginably soft her hands were. It hit me like a kick in the nuts. Not just her, but I needed to be with a girl.
I knew she was squeezing a little harder than normal. I could see the muscles and tendons in her forearms tensing. She wanted to impress. That was a good thing. I knew right then if I played my cards right that Liza would soon be eating a piece of pizza with me at Gianni’s. We would sit in a public booth and hope that nobody we knew would see us. We knew better.
“Nice name, it fits.” I smiled again.
“What’s that mean?” She thought I was being a smart ass.
“Nothing, I just meant its a cute name and I could see you being a Lisa.” I was stumbling a little and she kinda enjoyed that.
“Well, I could say the same about Biggs. It fits you.” I knew she was right. I would have guessed that my name might be something like that if I met myself. I’m pretty tall and not at all skinny. In fact, I should spend a little more time at the gym.
We made more small talk and lo and behold my self prediction of pizza at Gianni’s came true. The date was set for Wednesday and we agreed on jeans and t-shirts. General college attire. At least at state colleges I went to.
All week I was pretty busy so I did actually lose track a little bit. Maybe it was a bit of post breakup hangover but I wasn’t actually breathless with anticipation. Still, I remembered how wonderful our handshake felt and I would get a little jolt.
I guess I’m kind of aging myself here but this was in the years before many people had mobile phones so communication could be sporadic. I tried the number she gave me on Monday and no answer. I figured if nobody answered on Tuesday I’d just chalk it up as a missed opportunity. I called after dinner and I recognized her voice. I was glad she picked up.
“Hello.” She sounded as if she had no idea who could be calling.
“Liza?” I was just being polite.
“Oh, hi Biggs.” I could hear a little smile in her voice. I was mildly surprised.
“Um….are we still on for tomorrow?” I wasn’t sure.
“Yep. We just have to keep it early. I have a test on Thursday morning.”
“Should we reschedule for later?” This wasn’t my first rodeo.
“No, I’m pretty sure I know the stuff for the test. I just wanna be at my best. So, no late night.”
“Okay, great.” We made a little more small talk and I let her off the line.
We met at six at Gianni’s and she had on a cute pair of jeans and an immaculate tee and I could tell she spent a little time on her hair and makeup. Her short brown hair, (like Darla’s), was cute and I really began to reassess my initial thoughts. She really was best described as sneaky pretty. You might miss it at first look but the longer you looked the prettier she became. By the end of the meal I went from mildly interested to smitten. She seemed to be enjoying our time and she lingered longer than I thought she would after we ate. I had a couple beers and she drank a Coke and a bit of a refill. Her laugh was pretty sweet.
I made it a point not to give her an obvious once over when she walked in so I didn’t get a good look at her feet until later in the meal. I really did accidentally drop my napkin and when I bent to pick it up I saw she had on flip flops. What an unbelievable surprise. She had burgundy painted nails and her feet were perfect. Graceful high arches. Flawless skin. Long supple toes. Geez. I might have exploded if I could feel her soles. I was remembering how soft her hands were.
From the very first moment when I realized I was attracted to girls, I also realized I was hopelessly attracted to their feet. I liked everything about girls but it was their faces and feet that rocked my world.
Okay. TMI time here. I became uncomfortably hard almost immediately. I mean that almost instantly I was painfully erect. Sometimes I liked to freebalI, you know, a young man’s liberation from the tightly whities. Not only was my unfettered dick trying to work its way out through my 501’s but I could actually feel my pulse thundering in my ears. I was having trouble keeping up with the conversation and my throat was so dry I could barely swallow.
I didn’t want to have another beer so I did a very, perhaps overly, familiar thing. I just casually reached over and picked up her Coke and sipped through the straw. Instantly, I knew I had crossed a line. A much more significant line than I could have imagined. I could actually feel her pull back. Physically, she sat back, pulled away a little. Emotionally, she just cut the cable and left me drifting in space. There were two of us at the table but I was all alone. It was Darla all over again, just in miniature.
Things had been going so well too. From my little,(miniscule actually), faux pas, however, there was an abrupt backward progression. The date all but ended with her telling me she had to go study for the test. I felt pretty annoyed that things had slipped so quickly and I was irritated that she was making such a big deal out of nothing. It was just a sip of Coke. Fuck.
I smiled when she got up to leave and I got up as well. I knew I would walk her to her car but there was no chance for a goodnight kiss. We probably had just had our first and last date. Anyway, I did walk her out. We both enjoyed the comfortable spring breeze as we walked to the car but we didn’t say much. Its almost impossible to be so crestfallen but so unbelievably horny at the same time but that pretty much describes it.
“Well, thanks for a fun dinner Liza. We’ll have to do it again.” I could tell she just wanted to get in her car.
“Ok, I’ll be pretty busy with finals and all but call me and we’ll see if we can work it it. Thanks for dinner.” This time, she was the one holding out her hand. Dates that end in a handshake are a real shit sandwich. Still, I smiled and took her impossibly soft hand, which now came to embody all things feminine and heartbreaking. I said goodnight, gently closed her door and almost called her Darla for the umpteenth time. It occurred to me that right now she was just like Darla and possibly all women were this cruel.
It occurred to me, maddeningly, as she drove away, that as she slid into her car that her jean cuffs bunched over the top of her foot and accentuated the creamy white skin and her dark red toes. They were so sexy in that brief second that the memory remains burned in my mind over thirty years later.
I was so angry that this beautiful girl was going to shut me out, (just like Darla), that the only way I avoided a physical collapse was to grab the tailgate of the pickup truck parked in the spot next to the vacated spot that Dar…..I mean Liza….just vacated. In order to keep myself upright I made a contract with myself. With both hands clinging for dear life to the top rail of that tailgate I swore that I was not going to let this stand. No matter the cost or effort I would have my satisfaction. I felt the blood return to my lungs and legs and even my now long forgotten hard on. I was not going to be the guy holding the bag ever again. In fact, I would have the last laugh. The last laugh. THE LAST LAUGH…..I was inwardly boiling as I held onto this thought as I smiled, gathered myself and waved as she drove away.
To be continued
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