Revenge on the Tease mmm/m
Was Tim finally feed up with John? I guess he would say so. They had met during their Freshman year. John was very handsome, with a boyish face and a nice body that drew Tim’s attention immediately. In fact, John was the cute type that drew everyone’s attention once he entered a room. At first, Tim thought he was shy and reserved, but he soon learned that was merely an act. John was simply taking time to calculate who were the easy marks in the room that he could get free food or drinks from with just a little flirting.
Tim originally thought that their relationship would evolve into something more physical, but while they spent lots of time together and hit the bars many evening - always with Tim paying for everything - nothing more ever happened. Tim finally had to admit he was merely being played for one of John’s easy marks. While he thought at first to merely walk away, John was always there looking for a ride and free drinks and a meal and Tim always weakened as he looked into those dreamy eyes, always holding out hopes that were dashed time and time again. Finally, he decided on a little revenge. So this time, Tim recommended going out……
It was new bar that John had never been to. It was crowded, noisy, somewhat dark, and obviously, a gay bar. The booths that lined the walls were tall, heavy wooden ones that guaranteed privacy. John climbed into an open booth and scooted to the far side by the wall. As was usual, he stretched out his legs, putting his feet up on the seat across from him. Tim sat down in the booth across from John and they placed their usual beer order.
Tim could barely restrain himself. Everything was going per plan. The dinks were delivered and Tim smiled as John flirted with the waiter. When John picked up the beer and tilted his head back to drink, his attention was diverted and Tim gave two quick knocks on the wall behind him.
Hands reached out from the neighboring booth, grasped John’s ankles where they rested on the seat and pulled them into the next booth. In surprise, John dropped his beer and grabbed the edge of the table to keep himself from falling to the floor as a heavy wood panel dropped down over his ankles, trapping his feet in the neighboring booth.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“Oh, I forgot to warn you. This bar specializes in bondage booths. Putting your feet on the seat was a signal that you wanted to get locked up.”
“Well, I don’t! Make them let me go!”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. If you make too much noise, you will attract attention. Then you might be in some real trouble if everyone takes notice. They like having a captive here.”
“Well, I’m not into this,” John hissed in a lower voice. “ I want out. Make them …. Hey… What are they doing? Tim, someone is taking off my sneakers.”
On the other side of the booth, Paul, a friend Tim had convinced to help him in his revenge, had just pulled off John’s sneakers. He hadn’t been wearing any socks and he was staring at the softest pair of bare feet he had ever seen. They were a size twelve, smooth, with a small arch, and small curled toes that were twitching slightly in the cool air. He smiled as he brought one finger to the right foot and very slowly began to drag his finger from heel to toe.
“Tim, I want out of here. If you don’t get them to let me go, I’ll …. “ Suddenly, John’s eyes widened and his entire body went ridged. “NO! Um … T-Tim …. Um” John began to fidget slightly and strained to pull his legs free. “Tim. Someone is …. “ Tim watched as a slight quiver began at the side of John’s lips. “They’re tickling my feet.”
At the other side of the wall, Tim’s accomplice continued to slowly drag one finger from the heel of the right foot, over the arch, up to the ball of the quivering foot, pausing to just barely brushing teasingly near the underside of the toes, then move over to the left foot reverse the path from the toes down the heel.
Tim’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his luck. He thought John might be ticklish, but the panic showing in John’s eyes sent a wave of sadistic pleasure through Tim’s mind. John’s hands pushed hard against the table as he strove to pull his legs free, his head twisting from side to side as if he could toss the ticklish feeling from his body. “I’ll yell for help if you don’t do something.”
“As I said, I wouldn’t do that. There are lots of people in this bar that would just love to find someone like you in such a situation. They would be lined up to tickle you all night long. So I would avoid calling attention to yourself but try to be as quiet as possible.” Tim then got up and moved to the other booth where he took over slowly tickling John’s right foot while Paul focused his attention on the left foot.
With both of his feet being slowly tickled, John was beside himself in agony. He twisted and squirmed as much as he could, striving to free his poor, defenseless feet, but the wood panel held him like heavy stocks. He struggled to keep from laughing aloud and prayed his captors would tire soon.
When the waiter, Mark, returned to check on his customers, he was amazed to find a teary-eyed, red-faced, cute patron pleading for help.
“What’s going on?”
“Pl-please! You ... you’ve got to st-stop them. T-tell, T-Tim.” John stuttered, his body wracked with spasms as the tickling coursed up his legs from his poor feet. “I-I ca-can’t stand be-be-being tick-tickled. It – it will ma-make me cum. I can-can’t he-help myself. Pl-please get h-him to st-stop it.”
Mark’s eyes widened. Can it be true? Sat down in the booth next to John and placed his hand gently on John’s crotch. He was rock hard. John gasped and quickly pulled Mark’s hand away. “N-no- Don’t Pl-please. I ca-can’t con-control myself. “
Mark feigned his sympathy. “You poor boy. That’s terrible. I’ll get him to stop. In the meantime, if you feel around on the panel behind you, there should be a release lever to lift the panel and free your feet.”
In his ticklish torment, John failed to notice the gleam in Mark’s eyes as he disappeared from the booth. Twitching in ticklish agony, John reached both hands behind his back, desperately attempting to feel some type of lever that would grant his freedom. But to his horror, he felt hands grasp his and cold, steel handcuffs click around his wrists.
Mark returned to slide back into the booth next to John. Shaking his head both from his own stupidity as well as from the tickling, he accused Mark, “Yo-you did that! Pl-please, let – let me go.”
“Oh, you poor boy. Helplessly being tickled and unable to free yourself. It must be agony for you.” Mark placed his hand on John’s knee and slowly traced his fingers up John’s inner thigh. But unlike last time where John pulled his hands away, he was now unable to escape his touch. John moaned and twisted in electric pleasure and his body arched to escape Mark’s touch. Mark could see the outline of John’s hard cock, straining for release from his jeans. He traced one finger over the tight fabric, his eyes widening as John broken down in a fit of bubbly giggles and pleas.
“No-no … Don’t Don’t Pl-please. I don’t wa-want t-to .. I - I can’t …. No…”
This was just too good. Mark didn’t want this to end too quickly and could tell that it would only take a few passes over those tight jeans to make John cum in his pants. That would be too easy.
He leaned close to John and kissed him gently on the neck.
“Please ... No! Do-don’t!” John pleaded, tears running down his cheeks as the tickling of his feet was really driving him to insanity. His entire body was throbbing. Every stroke of those fingers on his bare feet lit his body afire. His was aware of his cock painfully straining in his jeans, seeking release. Two hands on each foot, stroking his arches and the balls of his feet. His toes twitched helplessly, desperate to avoid the ticklish assault his knew was coming, yet desiring it. They kept teasing close to his toes, brushing one here ... one there, just getting ready to begin an all-out tickling of his quivering toes. He knew if they tickled his toes it would be enough to send him over the edge and give him the release he wanted. But if he came, would they stop tickling him? He would be so much more ticklish once he came …. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. He wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He pictured everyone in the bar lining up to tickle his feet was he came over and over again until he lost his mind. They would have to stop. Wouldn’t they?
Was Tim finally feed up with John? I guess he would say so. They had met during their Freshman year. John was very handsome, with a boyish face and a nice body that drew Tim’s attention immediately. In fact, John was the cute type that drew everyone’s attention once he entered a room. At first, Tim thought he was shy and reserved, but he soon learned that was merely an act. John was simply taking time to calculate who were the easy marks in the room that he could get free food or drinks from with just a little flirting.
Tim originally thought that their relationship would evolve into something more physical, but while they spent lots of time together and hit the bars many evening - always with Tim paying for everything - nothing more ever happened. Tim finally had to admit he was merely being played for one of John’s easy marks. While he thought at first to merely walk away, John was always there looking for a ride and free drinks and a meal and Tim always weakened as he looked into those dreamy eyes, always holding out hopes that were dashed time and time again. Finally, he decided on a little revenge. So this time, Tim recommended going out……
It was new bar that John had never been to. It was crowded, noisy, somewhat dark, and obviously, a gay bar. The booths that lined the walls were tall, heavy wooden ones that guaranteed privacy. John climbed into an open booth and scooted to the far side by the wall. As was usual, he stretched out his legs, putting his feet up on the seat across from him. Tim sat down in the booth across from John and they placed their usual beer order.
Tim could barely restrain himself. Everything was going per plan. The dinks were delivered and Tim smiled as John flirted with the waiter. When John picked up the beer and tilted his head back to drink, his attention was diverted and Tim gave two quick knocks on the wall behind him.
Hands reached out from the neighboring booth, grasped John’s ankles where they rested on the seat and pulled them into the next booth. In surprise, John dropped his beer and grabbed the edge of the table to keep himself from falling to the floor as a heavy wood panel dropped down over his ankles, trapping his feet in the neighboring booth.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“Oh, I forgot to warn you. This bar specializes in bondage booths. Putting your feet on the seat was a signal that you wanted to get locked up.”
“Well, I don’t! Make them let me go!”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. If you make too much noise, you will attract attention. Then you might be in some real trouble if everyone takes notice. They like having a captive here.”
“Well, I’m not into this,” John hissed in a lower voice. “ I want out. Make them …. Hey… What are they doing? Tim, someone is taking off my sneakers.”
On the other side of the booth, Paul, a friend Tim had convinced to help him in his revenge, had just pulled off John’s sneakers. He hadn’t been wearing any socks and he was staring at the softest pair of bare feet he had ever seen. They were a size twelve, smooth, with a small arch, and small curled toes that were twitching slightly in the cool air. He smiled as he brought one finger to the right foot and very slowly began to drag his finger from heel to toe.
“Tim, I want out of here. If you don’t get them to let me go, I’ll …. “ Suddenly, John’s eyes widened and his entire body went ridged. “NO! Um … T-Tim …. Um” John began to fidget slightly and strained to pull his legs free. “Tim. Someone is …. “ Tim watched as a slight quiver began at the side of John’s lips. “They’re tickling my feet.”
At the other side of the wall, Tim’s accomplice continued to slowly drag one finger from the heel of the right foot, over the arch, up to the ball of the quivering foot, pausing to just barely brushing teasingly near the underside of the toes, then move over to the left foot reverse the path from the toes down the heel.
Tim’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his luck. He thought John might be ticklish, but the panic showing in John’s eyes sent a wave of sadistic pleasure through Tim’s mind. John’s hands pushed hard against the table as he strove to pull his legs free, his head twisting from side to side as if he could toss the ticklish feeling from his body. “I’ll yell for help if you don’t do something.”
“As I said, I wouldn’t do that. There are lots of people in this bar that would just love to find someone like you in such a situation. They would be lined up to tickle you all night long. So I would avoid calling attention to yourself but try to be as quiet as possible.” Tim then got up and moved to the other booth where he took over slowly tickling John’s right foot while Paul focused his attention on the left foot.
With both of his feet being slowly tickled, John was beside himself in agony. He twisted and squirmed as much as he could, striving to free his poor, defenseless feet, but the wood panel held him like heavy stocks. He struggled to keep from laughing aloud and prayed his captors would tire soon.
When the waiter, Mark, returned to check on his customers, he was amazed to find a teary-eyed, red-faced, cute patron pleading for help.
“What’s going on?”
“Pl-please! You ... you’ve got to st-stop them. T-tell, T-Tim.” John stuttered, his body wracked with spasms as the tickling coursed up his legs from his poor feet. “I-I ca-can’t stand be-be-being tick-tickled. It – it will ma-make me cum. I can-can’t he-help myself. Pl-please get h-him to st-stop it.”
Mark’s eyes widened. Can it be true? Sat down in the booth next to John and placed his hand gently on John’s crotch. He was rock hard. John gasped and quickly pulled Mark’s hand away. “N-no- Don’t Pl-please. I ca-can’t con-control myself. “
Mark feigned his sympathy. “You poor boy. That’s terrible. I’ll get him to stop. In the meantime, if you feel around on the panel behind you, there should be a release lever to lift the panel and free your feet.”
In his ticklish torment, John failed to notice the gleam in Mark’s eyes as he disappeared from the booth. Twitching in ticklish agony, John reached both hands behind his back, desperately attempting to feel some type of lever that would grant his freedom. But to his horror, he felt hands grasp his and cold, steel handcuffs click around his wrists.
Mark returned to slide back into the booth next to John. Shaking his head both from his own stupidity as well as from the tickling, he accused Mark, “Yo-you did that! Pl-please, let – let me go.”
“Oh, you poor boy. Helplessly being tickled and unable to free yourself. It must be agony for you.” Mark placed his hand on John’s knee and slowly traced his fingers up John’s inner thigh. But unlike last time where John pulled his hands away, he was now unable to escape his touch. John moaned and twisted in electric pleasure and his body arched to escape Mark’s touch. Mark could see the outline of John’s hard cock, straining for release from his jeans. He traced one finger over the tight fabric, his eyes widening as John broken down in a fit of bubbly giggles and pleas.
“No-no … Don’t Don’t Pl-please. I don’t wa-want t-to .. I - I can’t …. No…”
This was just too good. Mark didn’t want this to end too quickly and could tell that it would only take a few passes over those tight jeans to make John cum in his pants. That would be too easy.
He leaned close to John and kissed him gently on the neck.
“Please ... No! Do-don’t!” John pleaded, tears running down his cheeks as the tickling of his feet was really driving him to insanity. His entire body was throbbing. Every stroke of those fingers on his bare feet lit his body afire. His was aware of his cock painfully straining in his jeans, seeking release. Two hands on each foot, stroking his arches and the balls of his feet. His toes twitched helplessly, desperate to avoid the ticklish assault his knew was coming, yet desiring it. They kept teasing close to his toes, brushing one here ... one there, just getting ready to begin an all-out tickling of his quivering toes. He knew if they tickled his toes it would be enough to send him over the edge and give him the release he wanted. But if he came, would they stop tickling him? He would be so much more ticklish once he came …. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. He wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He pictured everyone in the bar lining up to tickle his feet was he came over and over again until he lost his mind. They would have to stop. Wouldn’t they?
