Dorm Shenanigans (m/m)

"So this is it, dude, huh," laughed Jake in his surfer-speak dialect as he surveyed the bed of my dorm room. The bed had been adorned with Posey velcro wrist and ankle restraints that I managed to sneak out of the hospital where I work. Jake was a gorgeous physical specimen of a sterotypical skater dude; he was six foot tall, tan, lean with well defined musculature, slightly shaggy brown hair, and a gorgeous mocking smile. He was wearing a black t-shirt, black shorts, and DC high-top sneakers.

"Yup, this is it. Welcome to my lair!" I replied with a grin.

"So what do I do? I just lie down on the bed and you... tickle me for half an hour?"

"That was the agreement!"

"Man, this is weird, dude," Jake laughed awkwardly, "but for 200 bucks, why not!"

"That's the spirit," I laughed. "Well, you all ready?"

Jake looked hesitant for a second. "I don't have to take off my shorts, right?"

"Nope, just your shirt," I replied, smiling.

Jake grinned and peeled off his t-shirt in a flamboyant manner, revealing the beautiful musculatur of his biceps, chest, and abs. I tried my best not to gawk like a hungry wolf. He flopped down on the bed, and I began securing his wrists and ankles with the posey cuffs. Jake watched in curiousity as I secured each one. "What are those, man?" Jake asked, looking just a tad bit nervous. "oh, these just help make sure you stay put during the tickling!" I answered wryly. I stepped back, stood at the foot of the bed, and admired my handiwork; Jakes wrists were secured above his head, exposing his tender, lightly hairy armpits, and his feet strapped to the foot of the bed, close enough together for dual access.

"Alright Jake, try to escape as if the room was on fire!"

Jake grinned smugly, and began to casually tug at the cuffs, trying to pull his arms down, and then his legs. I watched in delight as Jake's bravado gradually evaporated as the intensity of his struggles against the cuffs increased. I secretly knew that Jake had no hope in hell of escaping the poseys; in the ER, I had helped to restrain 300 pound men high on PCP with these cuffs, so I knew they would be more than tough enough to restrain this cocky skater boi. Finally, Jake gave up and just laid there, exhausted, taking deep breaths, his torso lightly sweaty and his face pink.

"Allright, It's PLAYTIME!" I gloated, and fetched some things. I put an egg timer on the nightstand, and set it for 30 minutes. Then I reached into my Toy Box, and grabbed a high-quality ostrich feather-duster. Duster in hand, I got on the bed straddling jakes thighs, and began to brush the duster along Jake's chest and tummy. "Kitchy Kitchy KOOO!" I taunted. Jake grinned widely, and with the ghost of a chuckle, he began to sway his torso under the feathers. I watched with delight as those six pack abs squirmed to and fro in a desparate attempt to avoid the ticklish caress of the soft feathers. As I began to swirl the duster all over his upper body, including his chest, underarms, biceps, and neck, he resisted full-blown laughter admirably; however, he was grinning from ear to ear, he squirmed like a fish out of water, and his breathing became quick and erratic, occasionally producing a chuckle.

"Aw, fuck man, stop! Stop! That t-tickles! Shit! How the FU-HUK do I get outta these things! Ha-ha ha"

"oh you haven't seen nothin' yet!" I gloated with an evil grin.

PART 2

I put the feather duster aside on the nightstand and selected a medium-sized artist brush. Jake's green eyes widened; "What the hell are ya gonna do with that, dude?" he queried. "I think I see some lint in your belly button. I'm gonna brush it out!" I began to gently move the artist brush in slow circles around his navel. As soon as the soft sable bristles of the brush touched the taut, tan flesh of his stomach, his abdominal muscles contracted, and he pulled futilely on the restraints pinning his arms over his head. It was great fun watching his abdominal muscles writhe beneath the ministrations of the relentless brush. Jake's breathing became quicker and staccato.

"KITCHY KITCHY KOO, Jake, I bet your gonna laauugh!" I taunted, as the ultra soft bristles finally delved into his belly button. Poor Jake managed to mutter a "fuck you" before his erratic breaths finally evolved into helpless giggles.

"Hehehe hahaha, stop, STOOOP! hahaha! PLEA-HEE-HEESE!," Jake breathlessly pleaded. I gleefully ignored his protests as I continued to tickle his tummy and belly button with the soft brush for about five minutes, listening to Jake giggle and babble idiotically the entire time.

I put the brush aside and, still straddling Jake's thighs, began to lightly graze his sides with my fingertips. As soon as my fingertips touched his skin, Jake gasped and made a futile effort to twist his torso to the right as much as he could with his arms pinned over his head; of course, all this accomplished was to expose his left side to me, which I lightly tickled. This caused him to instinctively twist to the left to protect his left side, which, naturally, exposed his right. So I tickled his right side. His face pink with frustration, Jake quickly gave up on that silly maneuver, and lay flat on his back in complete abandon. My light tickling of his sides intensified, digging my fingers in deeper and gradually increasing speed. Jake finally erupted into laughter.

"a-ha ha ha HA HAW HAW HAW! FUUUUCK! STOP! STOOOOP! HAW HAW HAW!!!"

Jake pulled furiously against his restraints, and was trying to buck me off his waist; I responded by leaning in, putting more of my weight on to my knees, and pinching my legs tighter to Jake's thighs, securing my mount position. I continued tickling him in this manner for two full minutes, during which Jake's writhing and verbal output became louder and more vociferous. I decided to stop tickling for a moment to let him catch his breath. He turned his head to look at the timer. "Aw, fuck, it's only been TEN MINUTES?" Jake cried incredulously. "Yup, that means I got 20 more of PLAY TIME!"

I scooted up a bit further, and wiggled my fingers menacingly toward his armpits.

Without my fingers even making contact, Jake sat up what little he could, tugged furiously at his wrist restraints in a desperate and futile attempt to pull his arms down, and said, "Aw, FUCK NO, man, don't even think about it! Not my PITS!!"

"Aw, come on, Jake, it's not like a tough dude like you is TICKLISH!" I taunted.

I began to gently graze just the edges of his underarms with my index fingers, without actually entering the dark, lightly hairy crevasses of his pits.

"ahhhhhh F-FUCK! NOOOO!" Jake cried, shaking his head back and forth.

"Oh fuck YES!!" I replied, grazing the edges of his pits just a little bit faster.

"hahaha HAHAHHAAA OMYGOD STOP! STOP! STOOOP! aaaaaAARRRGGGHHHH HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

Finally, I allowed my index fingers to slide down into the crevasses of his dark hairy pits. They were warm and moist, and the perspiration provided an excellent lubricant. The tips of my index fingers slid effortlessly as I gently wiggled them in circular motions. Jake roared at the top of his lungs:

"AAARRRGGHHHHH HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW!!!! OH GOD! STO- HA- HAAAP!! FUUUUUCKK HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!! I'm gonna fuckin KILL YOU-HOO HOO AH HAHAHAHAAAA!!!!"

As I relentlessly tickled his armpits, Jake's verbal output consisted of much of the above, seasoned occasionally with a futile death threat. His face was red and sweaty, his shaggy hair matted, his biceps bulging against the restraints. After roughly five full minutes of continuous underarm tickling, I stopped to give him a break. He laid there, huffing.

"Please dude, no more. Seriously.... I can't take anymore. Just untie me dude!"

"Aw but Jake, we still have 15 minutes left, and I haven't even checked out your feet!"

"My FEET? Aw, come on dude, no!"

Ignoring his protests, I got up off his waist, and pulled up a comfy chair to the foot of the bed.

PART 3 COMING SOON

Any comments on the story so far? I need a little encouragement to finish the last chapter

Just finish it. It's a cool story.

Good stuff -- Keep going! All the way!