*Not my story, all credit goes to Featherscape - https://www.deviantart.com/featherscape/art/A-Boy-and-his-Tickle-Monster-Commission-732005256
Disclaimer: All characters are 18+ years of age and entirely fictional. Story features bondage and tickling and no explicit sexual content
“Is your phone charged?” Georgia asked, hastily searching through her purse. The woman’s fingers scanned the bag for her daily necessities. The preparations for her scheduled routine had her running behind. She frantically searched for her keys through her bag. Her son, Riley, stood before her, arms crossed as he backed away toward the stairs.
“Yes, mom,” Riley said, groaning at how cautious his mother could still be after eighteen years.
“You have cash on you in case you have to take the toll anywhere?” Georgia asked. She inched toward the front door. The woman retrieved a stylish blazer from a coat rack and threw it over her shoulders. Only recently turned thirty nine, Georgia’s well maintained features and healthy body made her appear much younger still for someone with a son preparing for college. People tended to notice her son shared a similar anti-aging gene. Riley’s eyes darted, his voice rushed with urgency.
“Somewhere, I’m sure,” Riley said. The tall, slender boy anxiously looked up the stairs to his room. He brushed aside his golden bangs, tossing his hair as his eyes shifted between his mother and the top of the stairs. A clean Hollister shirt clung to his body, healthy with toned muscle. His breathing became hurried the longer his mother took to leave. Riley scratched the back of his head to get a good look at his bedroom door at the top of the stairs, making sure it was fully closed.
“Okay, honey,” Georgia said without looking up from her bag. “Ah, found them.” The woman pulled out a keychain, where several keys of varying functions dangled next to a shamrock charm. “I swear, if I was any closer, it would have bit me.” Riley chuckled at his mother’s regular misuse of common phrases.
“Alright, then,” Riley said in a pushing tone.
“I’ll only be gone for a couple hours while I run a few errands,” Georgia said. “Is there anything you need while I’m out?” Riley smiled at how catering his mother had been recently after he had been accepted into his first choice school. While he always imagined it being a different situation, the realization that she was trying to baby her boy for as long as she still could was almost heartbreaking. Still, his plans remained waiting for her departure.
“Nope, nothing,” Riley said. “Drive safe.” Riley rubbed his mother’s back in a subtle gesture that was lost on neither of them.
“Okay, well, text me if you think of something,” Georgia said. She pulled her son in for a hug. “I love you.”
“Love you too, mom,” Riley said. He patted his mother on the back, a move they both recognized was his code for requesting privacy. Georgia gave her son a quaint smile before turning to the front door. Riley held it open for her as she passed through. The boy quickly shut the door, locking it behind him, and darted up the stairs. Riley slipped into his room and closed the door behind him. He sighed. Riley let his head fall back against the door. He slipped his fingers into his hair, rubbing his scalp. He looked into his room. Much had been packed up for college while the rest was a collection of knick knacks from childhood he planned to leave behind when he moved. A plastic Millenium Falcon dangled from his ceiling by clear twine. A chest of toys and stuffed animals sat against the far wall, unopened for years. Academic accolades hung from the walls in frames, rewards he had once been so happy to achieve, yet had long since lost their valor. Riley walked up to the edge of his bed. “Alright, you can come out.”
“Yay, Riley!” A tall, lanky figure popped out from under Riley’s bed. The creature wore two large, animated eyes that found complete excitement in everything they fell upon. Feathery soft red and blue fur covered its entire body. Its arms and legs were frail and noodly, yet served to hold up its equally light build with ease. It wore a long smile with a forked tongue. The monster’s hands and feet were large, and bore lengthy fingers and toes. Its voice was playful and innocent, nearly infantile in dialect. It radiated a harmless nature for a boyhood monster. Riley stood unfazed, staring back at the creature.
“Hey, Funny,” Riley said. “Thanks for sticking behind when I told you to.” Riley sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Riley’s mommy gone now, so it okay, right?” Funny asked. The monster scurried over to the door to listen with one perked, feline ear.
“Yeah, she’s gone,” Riley said. “Everyone is. They all should be out for the next couple of hours.” Riley reached over to his laptop and laid it across his legs. He pulled up a quick WikiHow and began studying a page he had left up on makeshift self-bondage.
“Yay!” Funny cheered. “Funny no like being in closet or under bed so much.”
“You know the drill, Funny,” Riley said, not looking up from his computer screen. “It’s the same as it’s always been.”
Funny had appeared to Riley the first time when the boy was five. He identified himself as the boy’s personal ‘tickle monster’. Riley came to accept the monster as a friend, a friend that would visit him in the night, tickle him off to sleep, and would only come out when no one else was around. Riley would tell his friends and family about the monster he named ‘Funny’, after all the tickles that would come to him night after night, but no one believed the creature was anything more than imaginary. As Riley grew older, he and Funny remained friends in the secrecy of his bedroom, but the boy had matured into more plausible explanations for the creature beyond that of a simple figment. Funny would continue to tickle Riley throughout the years as was an enjoyable, shared activity for them both.
Funny plopped down on the floor, a forlorn expression washed across his cartoony face. “No one see Funny,” Funny said, reciting the house rules as he had time and time again. “Funny no leave room. Funny no talk to no one but Riley. Or else Funny have to go back home.” The last section brought a slumped brow to both of his large, marble eyes.
“It’s just to keep you safe,” Riley said dryly. Funny tapped his long, clawed nails against the shallow carpet. The monster sighed. He looked around the room, once filled with fun toys and games, but had long since lost its own childlike spirit. Funny scurried quickly on his fur covered hands and feet to Riley’s old toy chest. The monster opened the chest and pulled out two Hot Wheels. He began rolling them across the carpet, making the car sounds that Riley would as a little boy when playing with them. Riley looked back at the monster from his bed and sighed. The noises were distracting, but he had too much of a heart to tell the bored creature to stop.
Funny looked up from the floor to Riley sitting across the edge of his bed. The boy’s eyes seemed plastered to the page of his computer screen. Riley’s young face, bearing that of someone much younger than he, basked in the glow. Riley was often assumed to be a freshman or sophomore in highschool, one discussed to be more generally and conventionally attractive than most, rather than someone who was on his way to graduating that year. “Got it,” Riley said to himself. Riley set his computer to the side. The young boy reached into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and took out several long strands of sturdy rope. Funny tilted his head.
“What’s Riley doing?” Funny asked. Riley took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor. Riley laid across the length of his bed. He started tying each of his socked ankles to the bottom two corner legs.
“You how we used to play ‘tie up’ games?” Riley asked. Funny shot up, his ears pointing toward the ceiling.
“Yeah!” Funny said, a large grin having come across his face.
“I’ve been looking up the best ways to tie myself up,” Riley said. “I think I’m onto something new.” Funny jumped up to his feet.
“Yay, tie Riley!” Funny said. “Then, maybe, tickle Riley?” Riley laughed.
“Maybe after,” Riley said. “Right now, I want to make sure I have this just right.”
“Can Funny help?” Funny asked. Riley paused.
“I think I want to see how much I can get done on my own this time, but I might need your help at the end,” Riley said.
“Yay!” Funny cheered. “Funny watch Riley.” Riley finished tying his ankles to the bottom two corners of his bed with relative ease. He had practiced and developed over the years a stable knot for such a purpose, a combination of Figure Eight and Two Half Hitches. The ties he used to secure his ankles were taut and would not come loose with slack or movement. Riley tugged on his ankles to make sure they were attached firmly.
“Good,” Riley aid to himself. “Of course I’m going to need your help getting out a little later. I’m going to try to do my wrists now.” Funny seemed distracted. The monster inched up by the end of Riley’s bed. He giggled behind his furry hands, a child with devious intentions. “What?”
“Riley’s feet are all trapped,” Funny said, wiggling his furry fingers in the air.
“Not now, Funny,” Riley said. The boy smirked at the prospect, but directed his focus back toward the experiment. Riley laid back with two more strands of rope. For his wrists, he had been studying a knot to be tied by the same wrist it loops around, a deconstruction of freeing oneself from emergency situations. Riley positioned one strand of rope through one top corner leg, laying the slack across the bed to be used for the more difficult feat. He tied one wrist with experienced ease to the other corner using one free hand. With both ankles and one wrist tied down firmly, Riley turned his attention to the harder challenge.
“Riley need help?” Funny asked, watching the boy’s moves carefully.
“Not yet,” Riley said. “I’m going to try something.” Riley carefully laid his wrist across the rope’s slack. With slow movements as to not knock the rope off of the bed, Riley grabbed onto the rope with the single hand and began tying the knot around his wrist. Riley inched the slack through slowly, pulling the knot tighter and tighter, and subsequently pulling his wrist closer to the corner of the bed. His arm stretched out. With as tight of a pull as the boy can manage with one hand, he secured the knot to a taut close. Both arms splay out, both tied to their respective corners of the bed. Riley pulled at the ties just to make sure. “Funny, can you make these knots tighter for me, please?”
“Sure can!” Funny says. The monsters, grinning widely as he often did, scampered to the head of the bed. Having his own experience in tying up Riley, Funny knew exactly what strands to pull. Funny tightened the knots at each of Riley’s wrists, then finished by doing so at each of his ankles.
“Great, thanks,” Riley said. Funny giggled to himself. “What now?”
“Heehee, Funny can’t help himself,” Funny said. Funny danced and clawed his fingers across one of Riley’s socked soles. Riley pulled at his binds harder as his body reacted to the sudden tickles.
“Funnnneheheheheheeeyyy!” Riley shouted. The boy giggled and twisted against his bed. His arms and legs pulled at the ropes keeping him effectively tied. Riley had always been notably ticklish all over his body, a childish trait that never faded with age. Funny knew well about Riley’s ticklishness. He knew all of Riley’s most ticklish spots and the best ways in which to keep the boy laughing.
“Heehee, ticklish Riley, ticklish Riley…” Funny chanted as he laughed along with the boy. Funny’s furry fingers danced up and down Riley’s warm, socked soles. Riley laughed along with ticklish glee. As ticklish as the boy had always been, he never seemed to develop the same aversion to it as most other kids he knew. He welcomed Funny’s nightly visits and regularly invited himself to be tickled by trusted friends and family. As he matured, his interests in being tickled never changed, but his expression of which became more subverted and desocialized, keeping it only between himself and his pet tickle monster.
“Hahahahaahahahahahaha!! Fuuunnnnnenenehehehehehhahahahahayyyy!” Riley laughed along as Funny tickled faster and faster. The monster achieved great joy in tickling his human boy best friend, inasmuch as he knew Riley also cherished the exchange. His fur tipped claws dragged up and down the lengths of the boy’s soles, flicking off at the base of his toes. Riley squealed ticklish delight as he threw his head side to side.
Through his giggling fit, Riley and Funny heard a knocking at his bedroom door. Funny pulled back, his ears standing up at attention. Riley breathed heavily through a slacked jaw, staring over at the door with wide eyes. “Honey, is everything alright?” Georgia asked from the other side.
“Crap, she was supposed to be gone,” Riley grumbled under his breath. The boy turned to Funny, who stood frozen at the corner of Riley’s bed. “Quick. Untie me.” The boy spoke with a quiet urgency behind clenched teeth. Funny reached down to start untying the knots Riley had made for himself.
“Can I come in?” Georgia asked. Sweat dropped down Riley’s face in streams.
“Just a second!” Riley said aloud. Funny fumbled with the single knot he worked on.
“Funny can’t, Funny can’t,” Funny repeated.
“Yes, Funny can, now get me out of here,” Riley said, his chest pounding. He turned his attention back to the door. The knob began to turn. Riley flung his head back to his tickle monster. “Under the bed. Now.” Funny vanished beneath Riley’s bed with confident fluidity as he has so many times before. Riley’s door opened. “Mom, please go away!”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Georgia asked. The woman walked in. She looked down to her son, his cheeks glistened with sweat and glowing bright rose.
“Mom, seriously!” Riley said. A hot wash of embarrassment glossed over the boy. A billowing smile came over Georgia’s face as she started to giggle.
“Oh my, what have you done here?” Georgia asked. She chuckled as she walked up to her son, completely bound and helpless. She laughed at his squirming and struggling against his own bondage.
“It’s… it’s nothing, just…” Riley stammered and swallowed. Georgia looked over to the boy’s laptop screen.
“‘How to tie yourself down spreadeagle’,” Georgia read from the page. She looked back over to her son. “Aww, sweetie, you did all this yourself?” Riley swallowed and nodded.
“Yep, all by myself,” Riley said, his eyes darting to the side of the bed where Funnyhad vanished beneath. Georgia giggled as she took a seat against the edge of the bed.
“You know, when you were just a little boy, you were always finding yourself in positions of being either tied down or held down, one way or another,” Georgia said. The woman reached up and laid her hand across Riley’s bare, slender tummy. She tapped the tips of her long nails against his skin, making Riley gasp and jerk. “I always thought it was so funny how easily you seemed to end up like that.” Georgia lightly dragged a few of her nails across Riley’s belly. Riley watched his mother’s hand traverse his bare skin.
“Whhahaht ahare you doing?” Riley asked nervously through a flutter of giggles. The boy started to squirm and twitch side to side.
“Just what you always liked what I’d do when I found you all helpless like this,” Georgia said. Her voice had become relaxed and airy, each word spilling out of her mouth with a tender sweetness. Her nails traced around Riley’s tummy, sensitive to the slightest of touches. “You remember, don’t you? You remember what Mommy used to do?” Riley remembered well, but struggled to answer clearly. His mother’s nails stroked resonating tickles through his belly, keeping the boy trapped in a fit of giggles.
“Hahhahahaheeheeheheheehahahah! Mmmmaaahahahahahahmmm!” Riley laughed. His cheeks started to turn red. His arms and legs pulled at the ropes in which he bound them. Georgia leaned back over the bed, positioning herself comfortable as she danced her nails across her son’s ticklish belly faster and faster.
“Say it,” Georgia said. “What would Mommy do everytime she found her baby boy all helpless and vulnerable like this?” Riley’s head swung back and forth. The bed creaked with each responsive tug at the ropes attached to the legs. Georgia added her second hand to Riley’s ticklish playtime. She pinched at his side while the other draw ‘figure eights’ over his bare, ticklish tummy. Riley squirmed against his bed. The ropes offered him just enough slack to tilt slightly and slide side to side, but remained firmly intact. Riley’s laughter doubled in furocity and volume. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. It had been years since his mother tickled him in such a way as she described, and a flood of enlightening nostalgia hit him as jovial as the rush of tickles pouring through his young body.
“Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Tickle meeeehehehehehahahahahahahahah!!!” Riley shrieked. Georgia smiled a caring, yet devious, grin.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Georgia remarked. The woman dipped one long nail into Riley’s navel while the other hand ventured to pinching his ribs. Riley’s screamed with jubilous laughter. His back arched. His bed rocked with his arms and legs pulling against the corners. The young, teenage boy writhed against the bed as his mother spidered her fingers across his sensitive torso. The woman smiled matronly down to her son, the young man who still laughed with the energy of her ticklish baby boy. “Coochi coochi coo… Who’s Mommy’s ticklish little boy?”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! Mmmmahahahahahahahahammmm!!” Riley yelled out into the room. Georgia’s nails traversed Riley’s ticklish body by memory, knowing all the right places to tickle the boy to get him to laugh the loudest. She continued to scrape the inner wall of his navel with one, devilish nail. Her other hand picked at Riley’s ribs like a ticklish musical instrument. Riley jerked from side to side as far as he himself had allowed. His mother’s taunting and ticklish phrases ate away at his composure. Images and memories of all the times he had been so helplessly tickled by his mother or his monster flashed in his mind like sweet dreams. Riley felt that same elation returning inside him. “Hhahahahahahahahahahhahahaaa!! Meeeeehehehhahahahahahahahaha!!! Meeeeeehehehehahahahahahah!!! I aaaaahahahahahammmm!!!”
“That’s right,” Georgia said in a patronizing tone. She laughed and positioned herself up by the boy’s head. Her fingers found the bare, stretched hollow of his armpits. Her nails skittered across the areas, leaving Riley bucking and throwing his head back and forth. The woman got up right by her son’s ear and whispered. “You’ll always be Mommy’s little boy, and Mommy sure does love tickling her baby boy. Tickle, tickle, tickle…”
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHhahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Oooohhmygoddhahhahahahahahahahahahaha!!!” Riley screamed with laughter. His mother’s nails, long and sturdy, scribbled against the plush dips of his armpits. His entire body seemed to surge with gushing tickles. His arms pulled at the binds. Riley’s toes curled. His chest heaved as tears ran down his face. Riley’s hips thrashed against the bed. His sheets became bundled into wrinkled piles on both sides of his body. Georgia continued to tease Riley’s ear with taunting phrases.
“You’ve always been such a ticklish little boy,” Georgia said into Riley’s ear. “Mommy loves to her little boy laugh and squirm over and over again. You like it too, don’t you, baby boy?” Georgia’s words slithered from her mouth like a devious snake. Her nails scraped and flicked against the boy’s sensitive, slickened pits with quicker ease and a playful sadism. Riley’s face darkened still with deep blush. His stomach bounded with fleet of laughter pouring out of his mouth. The young teen found himself just as vulnerable as he had always made himself to be tickled as a child, but it seemed as if his mother was making up for lost time with even wilder tickles. Riley gleamed with the attention and reflection on his childhood, an attention that would be torturous if not for his own deep seeded desires to be defenceless and tickled.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OOOHHMYGODDHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I DOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I DOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!” Riley wailed with red faced laughter. His mother’s merciless tactics appealed greatly to his amusement. Her teasing close to his ear made him feel all the younger and more helpless to her whims. His back arched. Tears rolled down his young face. His mother giggled gleefully as she watched her son delve deeper and deeper into ticklish hysteria.
“I know you do, sweetie,” Georgia said. “Aren’t you glad that I came back? Wouldn’t you know it that I still managed to forget my phone, and yet, you had left something much more fun for me to do up here.” Georgia dug into Riley’s pits. Her nails skittered about the ticklish skin like eager bugs. Sweat began to gloss Riley’s body as he panted for breath. “Tickle, tickle, tickle… Oh, I’m going to tickle my baby boy all day long…” Georgia continued to tickle Riley’s pits. The boy lurched and bounced against the bed He swung his head back and forth, one of the few bodily movements he could make with any confidence.
After several grueling minutes, Georgia pulled back. She looked down to her son, a smile resting comfortably across both of their faces. Georgia brushed his golden locks out of his sweaty face. His chest rose and fell in a decreasing rhythm. He looked back at her, his cheeks burning. Georgia laid her fingers up to his lips. “Do my baby boy want Mommy to stop?” Riley paused in his silence. He thought for a moment before smirking back at her, his face darkening still. Riley subtly shook his head. “What do you say?”
“N… no,” Riley said.
“That’s not what you say,” Georgia said, grinning as she walked down to the end of the bed. “I asked you a question. What do you say?” Riley watched his mother stop at the foot of his bed, where his feet remained firmly secured and completely vulnerable.
“No… mom,” Riley said, still clutching to his matured vernacular.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Georgia said, looking down at her son’s feet. “You know better than that.” Riley sighed.
“No… Mommy,” Riley said with a shudder and a blush. Georgia’s smile brought one to her son’s face as well.
“That’s more like it,” Georgia said. The woman reached down and pinched the toe of one of Riley’s socks. Riley watched with wide eyes, his heart racing a marathon, as his mother slipped the sock from his foot. The slow removal was always one of the Riley’s favorite moments as a little boy, a true moment of excitement and terror. Georgia slid the sock off of Riley’s foot and tossed it to the floor. Riley wiggled his toes. His teeth and fingers clenched in preparation for what was to come. He watched his mother’s fingers carefully as she began removing the other sock.
“What do we have here?” Riley’s mother proceeded to taunt. “Two bare feet, all tied up and helpless.” Georgia laid her hands over the tops of Riley’s feet. He cringed and jerked at the sudden touch. Georgia smirked up at Riley, studying her teenage son’s reactions with a steady eye. “And if I remember, little baby boy Riley was also ticklish on his little baby boy feet…” His mother’s teasing brought warm waves of embarrassment to Riley’s face, but he could not deny their effectiveness in making him all the more responsive. “You want Mommy to tickle you, don’t you?” Riley looked away. He fought back a smirk and nodded.
“Yes… Mommy,” Riley said quietly. Georgia ran a stroke of a single nail up Riley’s left sole. The boy gasped and sank into a wave of giggles.
“I think you should ask for it,” Georgia said. She looked back at her son, his face near plum in color.
“Please tic…me… Mom...” Riley said, his voice trailing. Georgia ran another finger up his bare right sole. Riley jumped.
“What was that?” Georgia asked. “Mommy needs her baby boy to speak up.” Another swipe of her nail against his foot gave Riley the volume she commanded.
“Please, Mommy… tickle me…” Riley said more clearly. Georgia smirked.
“That’s my baby boy,” the woman said. She placed all of her nails at the base of Riley’s heels, kneeling onto the floor in front of them. Riley’s breath halted as he felt his mother’s most trusted tickle tools land down against his warm, soft feet. His soles were blushing pink, warm and slick with a slight residue. Georgia started slow, delicately brushing her son’s pearly heels with all ten fingers. Riley squealed into a steady stream of giggles.
“Eeeeeeekkkkhahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Mmmmahaahahahahahahahammmmm!” Riley laughed into the room, his ticklish plight only reaching those within its walls. His legs pulled back on the binds. The ropes tightened around his ankles. His feet flopped back and forth, but Georgia knew well how to keep up with them.
“Coochi, coochi, coo…” Georgia teased. Her fingers moved up the length of his soles. With five fingers to a foot, Georgia toyed with each of Riley’s slick, slender arches. Her nails caressed the creamy trails with complete relish in the boy’s manic laughter. With the softest of scribbles against his soles, Riley bounced against the bed. He screamed with the laughter filling his lungs. Jovial tears of ticklish ecstasy dripped from the corners of his eyes. “And who tickles little boy Riley the best?”
“AAAAAAHHHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!! HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MMMMAAHAHAHAHAAAAMMYYY!!!” Riley found the slip back into a younger version of himself a relaxing, natural escape, even in ticklish agony. In an instant, he was ten again and his mother had found him trapped under the bed, with his bare feet exposed and vulnerable to her ticklish will. His toes curl and bend. Faster and faster, Georgia skittered her fingers across his plush, pink soles. Riley thrashed back and forth against the bed. Her rocked and lurched as he screamed ticklish laughter.
“That’s right, Mommy does,” Georgia said. The woman giggled gleefully at watching her baby boy toss and turn beneath her tickling fingers. Her nails scribbled up both of his bare feet, trapped and all hers with which to play. She felt the familiar warmth against her palms, the winkles which always formed when she could curl his toes, and the way her nails slid ever so effortlessly against the soles that never lost their youthful plush. Her fingers scribbled up to the bases of his toes. Riley shrieked, the legs of the bed croaked beneath him as he pulled and pulled against his own ropes.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MMMMMAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAMMMYYYY!!!” The boy bellowed out into the bedroom. Ticklish jolts raced up from both of his feet through his body. He pulled and twisted and screamed with elated laughter. Riley shouted several pleas of mercy, despite the overwhelming rush of excitement that had come over him. His mother offered him none. She knew the boy’s limitations, and just adjusted with age. The pent up refrain from such a childish pastime urged Georgia to tickle the boy longer and harder than she ever had before, a change Riley greatly welcomed.
“Did you miss Mommy tickling you?” Georgia asked her son, still in condescending baby-talk. “Is that why you let Mommy find you this way?” While his mother’s discovery had not been his plan, Riley found the experiment to be more of a success than he could have imagined. The knots held up well against his natural reactions as his mother tickled him senseless. “Well, thank you for the gift. I’m just sorry I didn’t get you anything… I guess I’ll just have to give my baby boy all the tickles he wants.” Riley’s body objected with wild shakes of his head while the rest of him beamed at the idea. Georgia’s nails had slipped into the boy’s toes. Riley’s laughter hit a new high, a new shrieking octave.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PPPLLLEHEHEHEHEHEEAAASSSEEEE!!! MMMMAHAHAHAHAHAHAHMMMMMMYYY PLLLEHEHHAHAHASSSEEE!!!” Riley pleaded. His body begged for mercy while his mind pleaded for none. Georgia snickered, comforting her stance as she played with the boy’s toes.
“Such adorable little piggies,” Georgia teased. She scribbled her nails at the base of his toes, slipping them up the wiggling stems. She flicked her tools up from beneath the bubbly pads. Riley’s laughter was more screaming than anything else, but the rush enveloped him. He threw his head back. His cheeks burned like fresh cinders. His chest pounded. “Did these little piggies miss being played with by Mommy? Huh?” Riley slumped into the tone his mother set for him, finding joy in defeat.
“AAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! YYYEEHEHEHEHEEESSSSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Riley wheezed mad laughter. His toes wiggled around his mother’s nails, but her skills and experience with the boy kept him in a constant ticklish hysteria. Georgia skittered her nails across the plump, pink pads as they squirmed. She wedged her fingers in between each of Riley’s tender toes. The boy’s mother scratched away at the pale spaces, leaving Riley gasping and clutching for air.
“Tickle, tickle, little piggies…” Georgia taunted. Sweat draped over Riley’s body. His bare chest and feet glistened in the overhead light of his bedroom. He swallowed deep breaths, groaning breaths, as his mother continued to indulge him, enforcing the helplessness the boy had made for himself. She tickled his ears with a steady stream of teasing phrases, reducing him back to the days of boyhood. She thrived in sharing the moment to relive old times with her son, just as she knew he basked in the thrill. His smile never faltered. His laugh was never desperate. His pleas were never genuine. Georgia relished in the magical moment to tickle her son just as she always had.
Georgia looked up at the clock on Riley’s wall. She pulled away from his feet and left him gasping in his bondage. Riley swallowed the momentary break in deep gulps. His eyes were tired, yet sparkled with favor. He laughed residual laughs as he looked back to his mother staring down at him. Georgia peered down lovingly to her son. She stroked his sweaty hair out of his burning, young face.
“This was a lot of fun,” Georgia said, somewhat losing her demeaning tone. “Did you have fun too?” Riley nodded with exhaustion, a shivering smile resting across his face.
“Y… yeah…” Riley said on an exhale. “Thank… you…”
“No, thank you,” Georgia said. The woman turned and left the room. She promptly came back with a roll of duct tape. The woman picked up one of Riley’s socks. “Open wide.” Riley hesitated, though the tickling had beaten him into a distinct submission. He opened his mouth wide. Georgia stuffed the sock into his mouth and closed his lips with several strands of duct tape. She smiled down to the boy. “Now, Mommy still has to go and run some errands. You made her very late, so you’re going to stay right here while I’m out. Should only be about two or three hours. And when I get back, we’ll have more fun.” Riley’s eyes go wide. Georgia plants a soft kiss against the boy’s forehead before turning toward the door. Riley struggled against his binds to no avail. He moaned and wailed into his socked gag. Georgia opened his bedroom door and turned back to him with a sly smirk. “Be a good boy for Mommy while I’m gone, okay?” She smiled and laughed at the boy’s expression as she started out the room. Georgia closed the door behind her, leaving Riley effectively bound to his bed.
The boy was convinced his mother was just bluffing, that it was all in the act. His expectations shattered around him as he heard the woman opening and closing the front. He heard the soft crunch of tires against the driveway just outside his window, proving to him that his mother was seriously leaving him tied. Riley groaned, staring up at the ceiling. A voice sparked a hope in him that he may have some freedom, at least until his mother would return.
“Heehee, ticklish Riley, ticklish Riley…” Funny giggled. The monster slipped out from under Riley’s bed. He laughed his childish laugh as he recalled the ruthless, yet playful, tickling Riley’s mother had given him by the ferocity of his laughter. “Riley very ticklish! Funny like ticklish Riley!” Riley watched Funny bound to his feet, excitedly dancing around the room. Funny looked around. “Riley’s mommy no here. Funny come out and play!”
The monster turned to see Riley tied and splayed out across his bed. Funny smiled down to Riley as he approached the teen. “Riley like being tickled.” Funny’s eyes fell on the boy’s vulnerable disposition, as well as his bared feet and upper body. Funny giggled to himself. “Funny like tickling Riley.” Funny came up next to Riley’s chest. Riley looked back, shaking his head while he groaned and moaned into his gag. His chest continued to rise and fall from the previous tickle assault by his mother. His cheeks still shined red like stop lights. Funny smiled and laughed to himself. “Riley want Funny to tickle him.” Riley yelled contradictions into the gag his mother left him in, but made nothing more than indistinguishable muffles.
Funny cheered. The monster drove ten wiggling, furry fingers down into Riley’s belly. Riley lurched in his binds, screaming muffled laughter. The fur across Funny’s body always served to tickle alone, as was its purpose coating an actual tickle monster, but added ten expert tickling fingers driving into his stomach was almost too much for the teen to handle all at once. Riley threw his head back and forth, side to side, unable to tell his tickle monster to stop. Funny laughed along with Riley, thrusting him into a ticklish tempest almost all at once.
“Heehee, Funny know Riley likes tickles,” Funny said, scribbling his long, fuzzy fingers across Riley’s tightened tummy. The monster laughed aloud with his own innocent glee, oblivious to Riley’s teary cries. “Funny like tickling Riley! Riley so much fun to tickle all over! Funny tickle Riley until Riley’s mommy come back!” Funny’s fingers dashed quick tickles all over Riley’s tummy. The boy screamed and screamed into his gag, knowing Funny would not stop until he was forced to. Riley tried to scream at the creature, but all that sounded was his own muffled laughter.
“Yay, tickle Riley, tickle Riley,” Funny cheered, deaf to the teen’s strained pleas. “All day tickles!”
Disclaimer: All characters are 18+ years of age and entirely fictional. Story features bondage and tickling and no explicit sexual content
“Is your phone charged?” Georgia asked, hastily searching through her purse. The woman’s fingers scanned the bag for her daily necessities. The preparations for her scheduled routine had her running behind. She frantically searched for her keys through her bag. Her son, Riley, stood before her, arms crossed as he backed away toward the stairs.
“Yes, mom,” Riley said, groaning at how cautious his mother could still be after eighteen years.
“You have cash on you in case you have to take the toll anywhere?” Georgia asked. She inched toward the front door. The woman retrieved a stylish blazer from a coat rack and threw it over her shoulders. Only recently turned thirty nine, Georgia’s well maintained features and healthy body made her appear much younger still for someone with a son preparing for college. People tended to notice her son shared a similar anti-aging gene. Riley’s eyes darted, his voice rushed with urgency.
“Somewhere, I’m sure,” Riley said. The tall, slender boy anxiously looked up the stairs to his room. He brushed aside his golden bangs, tossing his hair as his eyes shifted between his mother and the top of the stairs. A clean Hollister shirt clung to his body, healthy with toned muscle. His breathing became hurried the longer his mother took to leave. Riley scratched the back of his head to get a good look at his bedroom door at the top of the stairs, making sure it was fully closed.
“Okay, honey,” Georgia said without looking up from her bag. “Ah, found them.” The woman pulled out a keychain, where several keys of varying functions dangled next to a shamrock charm. “I swear, if I was any closer, it would have bit me.” Riley chuckled at his mother’s regular misuse of common phrases.
“Alright, then,” Riley said in a pushing tone.
“I’ll only be gone for a couple hours while I run a few errands,” Georgia said. “Is there anything you need while I’m out?” Riley smiled at how catering his mother had been recently after he had been accepted into his first choice school. While he always imagined it being a different situation, the realization that she was trying to baby her boy for as long as she still could was almost heartbreaking. Still, his plans remained waiting for her departure.
“Nope, nothing,” Riley said. “Drive safe.” Riley rubbed his mother’s back in a subtle gesture that was lost on neither of them.
“Okay, well, text me if you think of something,” Georgia said. She pulled her son in for a hug. “I love you.”
“Love you too, mom,” Riley said. He patted his mother on the back, a move they both recognized was his code for requesting privacy. Georgia gave her son a quaint smile before turning to the front door. Riley held it open for her as she passed through. The boy quickly shut the door, locking it behind him, and darted up the stairs. Riley slipped into his room and closed the door behind him. He sighed. Riley let his head fall back against the door. He slipped his fingers into his hair, rubbing his scalp. He looked into his room. Much had been packed up for college while the rest was a collection of knick knacks from childhood he planned to leave behind when he moved. A plastic Millenium Falcon dangled from his ceiling by clear twine. A chest of toys and stuffed animals sat against the far wall, unopened for years. Academic accolades hung from the walls in frames, rewards he had once been so happy to achieve, yet had long since lost their valor. Riley walked up to the edge of his bed. “Alright, you can come out.”
“Yay, Riley!” A tall, lanky figure popped out from under Riley’s bed. The creature wore two large, animated eyes that found complete excitement in everything they fell upon. Feathery soft red and blue fur covered its entire body. Its arms and legs were frail and noodly, yet served to hold up its equally light build with ease. It wore a long smile with a forked tongue. The monster’s hands and feet were large, and bore lengthy fingers and toes. Its voice was playful and innocent, nearly infantile in dialect. It radiated a harmless nature for a boyhood monster. Riley stood unfazed, staring back at the creature.
“Hey, Funny,” Riley said. “Thanks for sticking behind when I told you to.” Riley sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Riley’s mommy gone now, so it okay, right?” Funny asked. The monster scurried over to the door to listen with one perked, feline ear.
“Yeah, she’s gone,” Riley said. “Everyone is. They all should be out for the next couple of hours.” Riley reached over to his laptop and laid it across his legs. He pulled up a quick WikiHow and began studying a page he had left up on makeshift self-bondage.
“Yay!” Funny cheered. “Funny no like being in closet or under bed so much.”
“You know the drill, Funny,” Riley said, not looking up from his computer screen. “It’s the same as it’s always been.”
Funny had appeared to Riley the first time when the boy was five. He identified himself as the boy’s personal ‘tickle monster’. Riley came to accept the monster as a friend, a friend that would visit him in the night, tickle him off to sleep, and would only come out when no one else was around. Riley would tell his friends and family about the monster he named ‘Funny’, after all the tickles that would come to him night after night, but no one believed the creature was anything more than imaginary. As Riley grew older, he and Funny remained friends in the secrecy of his bedroom, but the boy had matured into more plausible explanations for the creature beyond that of a simple figment. Funny would continue to tickle Riley throughout the years as was an enjoyable, shared activity for them both.
Funny plopped down on the floor, a forlorn expression washed across his cartoony face. “No one see Funny,” Funny said, reciting the house rules as he had time and time again. “Funny no leave room. Funny no talk to no one but Riley. Or else Funny have to go back home.” The last section brought a slumped brow to both of his large, marble eyes.
“It’s just to keep you safe,” Riley said dryly. Funny tapped his long, clawed nails against the shallow carpet. The monster sighed. He looked around the room, once filled with fun toys and games, but had long since lost its own childlike spirit. Funny scurried quickly on his fur covered hands and feet to Riley’s old toy chest. The monster opened the chest and pulled out two Hot Wheels. He began rolling them across the carpet, making the car sounds that Riley would as a little boy when playing with them. Riley looked back at the monster from his bed and sighed. The noises were distracting, but he had too much of a heart to tell the bored creature to stop.
Funny looked up from the floor to Riley sitting across the edge of his bed. The boy’s eyes seemed plastered to the page of his computer screen. Riley’s young face, bearing that of someone much younger than he, basked in the glow. Riley was often assumed to be a freshman or sophomore in highschool, one discussed to be more generally and conventionally attractive than most, rather than someone who was on his way to graduating that year. “Got it,” Riley said to himself. Riley set his computer to the side. The young boy reached into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and took out several long strands of sturdy rope. Funny tilted his head.
“What’s Riley doing?” Funny asked. Riley took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor. Riley laid across the length of his bed. He started tying each of his socked ankles to the bottom two corner legs.
“You how we used to play ‘tie up’ games?” Riley asked. Funny shot up, his ears pointing toward the ceiling.
“Yeah!” Funny said, a large grin having come across his face.
“I’ve been looking up the best ways to tie myself up,” Riley said. “I think I’m onto something new.” Funny jumped up to his feet.
“Yay, tie Riley!” Funny said. “Then, maybe, tickle Riley?” Riley laughed.
“Maybe after,” Riley said. “Right now, I want to make sure I have this just right.”
“Can Funny help?” Funny asked. Riley paused.
“I think I want to see how much I can get done on my own this time, but I might need your help at the end,” Riley said.
“Yay!” Funny cheered. “Funny watch Riley.” Riley finished tying his ankles to the bottom two corners of his bed with relative ease. He had practiced and developed over the years a stable knot for such a purpose, a combination of Figure Eight and Two Half Hitches. The ties he used to secure his ankles were taut and would not come loose with slack or movement. Riley tugged on his ankles to make sure they were attached firmly.
“Good,” Riley aid to himself. “Of course I’m going to need your help getting out a little later. I’m going to try to do my wrists now.” Funny seemed distracted. The monster inched up by the end of Riley’s bed. He giggled behind his furry hands, a child with devious intentions. “What?”
“Riley’s feet are all trapped,” Funny said, wiggling his furry fingers in the air.
“Not now, Funny,” Riley said. The boy smirked at the prospect, but directed his focus back toward the experiment. Riley laid back with two more strands of rope. For his wrists, he had been studying a knot to be tied by the same wrist it loops around, a deconstruction of freeing oneself from emergency situations. Riley positioned one strand of rope through one top corner leg, laying the slack across the bed to be used for the more difficult feat. He tied one wrist with experienced ease to the other corner using one free hand. With both ankles and one wrist tied down firmly, Riley turned his attention to the harder challenge.
“Riley need help?” Funny asked, watching the boy’s moves carefully.
“Not yet,” Riley said. “I’m going to try something.” Riley carefully laid his wrist across the rope’s slack. With slow movements as to not knock the rope off of the bed, Riley grabbed onto the rope with the single hand and began tying the knot around his wrist. Riley inched the slack through slowly, pulling the knot tighter and tighter, and subsequently pulling his wrist closer to the corner of the bed. His arm stretched out. With as tight of a pull as the boy can manage with one hand, he secured the knot to a taut close. Both arms splay out, both tied to their respective corners of the bed. Riley pulled at the ties just to make sure. “Funny, can you make these knots tighter for me, please?”
“Sure can!” Funny says. The monsters, grinning widely as he often did, scampered to the head of the bed. Having his own experience in tying up Riley, Funny knew exactly what strands to pull. Funny tightened the knots at each of Riley’s wrists, then finished by doing so at each of his ankles.
“Great, thanks,” Riley said. Funny giggled to himself. “What now?”
“Heehee, Funny can’t help himself,” Funny said. Funny danced and clawed his fingers across one of Riley’s socked soles. Riley pulled at his binds harder as his body reacted to the sudden tickles.
“Funnnneheheheheheeeyyy!” Riley shouted. The boy giggled and twisted against his bed. His arms and legs pulled at the ropes keeping him effectively tied. Riley had always been notably ticklish all over his body, a childish trait that never faded with age. Funny knew well about Riley’s ticklishness. He knew all of Riley’s most ticklish spots and the best ways in which to keep the boy laughing.
“Heehee, ticklish Riley, ticklish Riley…” Funny chanted as he laughed along with the boy. Funny’s furry fingers danced up and down Riley’s warm, socked soles. Riley laughed along with ticklish glee. As ticklish as the boy had always been, he never seemed to develop the same aversion to it as most other kids he knew. He welcomed Funny’s nightly visits and regularly invited himself to be tickled by trusted friends and family. As he matured, his interests in being tickled never changed, but his expression of which became more subverted and desocialized, keeping it only between himself and his pet tickle monster.
“Hahahahaahahahahahaha!! Fuuunnnnnenenehehehehehhahahahahayyyy!” Riley laughed along as Funny tickled faster and faster. The monster achieved great joy in tickling his human boy best friend, inasmuch as he knew Riley also cherished the exchange. His fur tipped claws dragged up and down the lengths of the boy’s soles, flicking off at the base of his toes. Riley squealed ticklish delight as he threw his head side to side.
Through his giggling fit, Riley and Funny heard a knocking at his bedroom door. Funny pulled back, his ears standing up at attention. Riley breathed heavily through a slacked jaw, staring over at the door with wide eyes. “Honey, is everything alright?” Georgia asked from the other side.
“Crap, she was supposed to be gone,” Riley grumbled under his breath. The boy turned to Funny, who stood frozen at the corner of Riley’s bed. “Quick. Untie me.” The boy spoke with a quiet urgency behind clenched teeth. Funny reached down to start untying the knots Riley had made for himself.
“Can I come in?” Georgia asked. Sweat dropped down Riley’s face in streams.
“Just a second!” Riley said aloud. Funny fumbled with the single knot he worked on.
“Funny can’t, Funny can’t,” Funny repeated.
“Yes, Funny can, now get me out of here,” Riley said, his chest pounding. He turned his attention back to the door. The knob began to turn. Riley flung his head back to his tickle monster. “Under the bed. Now.” Funny vanished beneath Riley’s bed with confident fluidity as he has so many times before. Riley’s door opened. “Mom, please go away!”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Georgia asked. The woman walked in. She looked down to her son, his cheeks glistened with sweat and glowing bright rose.
“Mom, seriously!” Riley said. A hot wash of embarrassment glossed over the boy. A billowing smile came over Georgia’s face as she started to giggle.
“Oh my, what have you done here?” Georgia asked. She chuckled as she walked up to her son, completely bound and helpless. She laughed at his squirming and struggling against his own bondage.
“It’s… it’s nothing, just…” Riley stammered and swallowed. Georgia looked over to the boy’s laptop screen.
“‘How to tie yourself down spreadeagle’,” Georgia read from the page. She looked back over to her son. “Aww, sweetie, you did all this yourself?” Riley swallowed and nodded.
“Yep, all by myself,” Riley said, his eyes darting to the side of the bed where Funnyhad vanished beneath. Georgia giggled as she took a seat against the edge of the bed.
“You know, when you were just a little boy, you were always finding yourself in positions of being either tied down or held down, one way or another,” Georgia said. The woman reached up and laid her hand across Riley’s bare, slender tummy. She tapped the tips of her long nails against his skin, making Riley gasp and jerk. “I always thought it was so funny how easily you seemed to end up like that.” Georgia lightly dragged a few of her nails across Riley’s belly. Riley watched his mother’s hand traverse his bare skin.
“Whhahaht ahare you doing?” Riley asked nervously through a flutter of giggles. The boy started to squirm and twitch side to side.
“Just what you always liked what I’d do when I found you all helpless like this,” Georgia said. Her voice had become relaxed and airy, each word spilling out of her mouth with a tender sweetness. Her nails traced around Riley’s tummy, sensitive to the slightest of touches. “You remember, don’t you? You remember what Mommy used to do?” Riley remembered well, but struggled to answer clearly. His mother’s nails stroked resonating tickles through his belly, keeping the boy trapped in a fit of giggles.
“Hahhahahaheeheeheheheehahahah! Mmmmaaahahahahahahmmm!” Riley laughed. His cheeks started to turn red. His arms and legs pulled at the ropes in which he bound them. Georgia leaned back over the bed, positioning herself comfortable as she danced her nails across her son’s ticklish belly faster and faster.
“Say it,” Georgia said. “What would Mommy do everytime she found her baby boy all helpless and vulnerable like this?” Riley’s head swung back and forth. The bed creaked with each responsive tug at the ropes attached to the legs. Georgia added her second hand to Riley’s ticklish playtime. She pinched at his side while the other draw ‘figure eights’ over his bare, ticklish tummy. Riley squirmed against his bed. The ropes offered him just enough slack to tilt slightly and slide side to side, but remained firmly intact. Riley’s laughter doubled in furocity and volume. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. It had been years since his mother tickled him in such a way as she described, and a flood of enlightening nostalgia hit him as jovial as the rush of tickles pouring through his young body.
“Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Tickle meeeehehehehehahahahahahahahah!!!” Riley shrieked. Georgia smiled a caring, yet devious, grin.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Georgia remarked. The woman dipped one long nail into Riley’s navel while the other hand ventured to pinching his ribs. Riley’s screamed with jubilous laughter. His back arched. His bed rocked with his arms and legs pulling against the corners. The young, teenage boy writhed against the bed as his mother spidered her fingers across his sensitive torso. The woman smiled matronly down to her son, the young man who still laughed with the energy of her ticklish baby boy. “Coochi coochi coo… Who’s Mommy’s ticklish little boy?”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! Mmmmahahahahahahahahammmm!!” Riley yelled out into the room. Georgia’s nails traversed Riley’s ticklish body by memory, knowing all the right places to tickle the boy to get him to laugh the loudest. She continued to scrape the inner wall of his navel with one, devilish nail. Her other hand picked at Riley’s ribs like a ticklish musical instrument. Riley jerked from side to side as far as he himself had allowed. His mother’s taunting and ticklish phrases ate away at his composure. Images and memories of all the times he had been so helplessly tickled by his mother or his monster flashed in his mind like sweet dreams. Riley felt that same elation returning inside him. “Hhahahahahahahahahahhahahaaa!! Meeeeehehehhahahahahahahahaha!!! Meeeeeehehehehahahahahahah!!! I aaaaahahahahahammmm!!!”
“That’s right,” Georgia said in a patronizing tone. She laughed and positioned herself up by the boy’s head. Her fingers found the bare, stretched hollow of his armpits. Her nails skittered across the areas, leaving Riley bucking and throwing his head back and forth. The woman got up right by her son’s ear and whispered. “You’ll always be Mommy’s little boy, and Mommy sure does love tickling her baby boy. Tickle, tickle, tickle…”
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHhahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Oooohhmygoddhahhahahahahahahahahahaha!!!” Riley screamed with laughter. His mother’s nails, long and sturdy, scribbled against the plush dips of his armpits. His entire body seemed to surge with gushing tickles. His arms pulled at the binds. Riley’s toes curled. His chest heaved as tears ran down his face. Riley’s hips thrashed against the bed. His sheets became bundled into wrinkled piles on both sides of his body. Georgia continued to tease Riley’s ear with taunting phrases.
“You’ve always been such a ticklish little boy,” Georgia said into Riley’s ear. “Mommy loves to her little boy laugh and squirm over and over again. You like it too, don’t you, baby boy?” Georgia’s words slithered from her mouth like a devious snake. Her nails scraped and flicked against the boy’s sensitive, slickened pits with quicker ease and a playful sadism. Riley’s face darkened still with deep blush. His stomach bounded with fleet of laughter pouring out of his mouth. The young teen found himself just as vulnerable as he had always made himself to be tickled as a child, but it seemed as if his mother was making up for lost time with even wilder tickles. Riley gleamed with the attention and reflection on his childhood, an attention that would be torturous if not for his own deep seeded desires to be defenceless and tickled.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OOOHHMYGODDHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I DOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I DOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!” Riley wailed with red faced laughter. His mother’s merciless tactics appealed greatly to his amusement. Her teasing close to his ear made him feel all the younger and more helpless to her whims. His back arched. Tears rolled down his young face. His mother giggled gleefully as she watched her son delve deeper and deeper into ticklish hysteria.
“I know you do, sweetie,” Georgia said. “Aren’t you glad that I came back? Wouldn’t you know it that I still managed to forget my phone, and yet, you had left something much more fun for me to do up here.” Georgia dug into Riley’s pits. Her nails skittered about the ticklish skin like eager bugs. Sweat began to gloss Riley’s body as he panted for breath. “Tickle, tickle, tickle… Oh, I’m going to tickle my baby boy all day long…” Georgia continued to tickle Riley’s pits. The boy lurched and bounced against the bed He swung his head back and forth, one of the few bodily movements he could make with any confidence.
After several grueling minutes, Georgia pulled back. She looked down to her son, a smile resting comfortably across both of their faces. Georgia brushed his golden locks out of his sweaty face. His chest rose and fell in a decreasing rhythm. He looked back at her, his cheeks burning. Georgia laid her fingers up to his lips. “Do my baby boy want Mommy to stop?” Riley paused in his silence. He thought for a moment before smirking back at her, his face darkening still. Riley subtly shook his head. “What do you say?”
“N… no,” Riley said.
“That’s not what you say,” Georgia said, grinning as she walked down to the end of the bed. “I asked you a question. What do you say?” Riley watched his mother stop at the foot of his bed, where his feet remained firmly secured and completely vulnerable.
“No… mom,” Riley said, still clutching to his matured vernacular.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Georgia said, looking down at her son’s feet. “You know better than that.” Riley sighed.
“No… Mommy,” Riley said with a shudder and a blush. Georgia’s smile brought one to her son’s face as well.
“That’s more like it,” Georgia said. The woman reached down and pinched the toe of one of Riley’s socks. Riley watched with wide eyes, his heart racing a marathon, as his mother slipped the sock from his foot. The slow removal was always one of the Riley’s favorite moments as a little boy, a true moment of excitement and terror. Georgia slid the sock off of Riley’s foot and tossed it to the floor. Riley wiggled his toes. His teeth and fingers clenched in preparation for what was to come. He watched his mother’s fingers carefully as she began removing the other sock.
“What do we have here?” Riley’s mother proceeded to taunt. “Two bare feet, all tied up and helpless.” Georgia laid her hands over the tops of Riley’s feet. He cringed and jerked at the sudden touch. Georgia smirked up at Riley, studying her teenage son’s reactions with a steady eye. “And if I remember, little baby boy Riley was also ticklish on his little baby boy feet…” His mother’s teasing brought warm waves of embarrassment to Riley’s face, but he could not deny their effectiveness in making him all the more responsive. “You want Mommy to tickle you, don’t you?” Riley looked away. He fought back a smirk and nodded.
“Yes… Mommy,” Riley said quietly. Georgia ran a stroke of a single nail up Riley’s left sole. The boy gasped and sank into a wave of giggles.
“I think you should ask for it,” Georgia said. She looked back at her son, his face near plum in color.
“Please tic…me… Mom...” Riley said, his voice trailing. Georgia ran another finger up his bare right sole. Riley jumped.
“What was that?” Georgia asked. “Mommy needs her baby boy to speak up.” Another swipe of her nail against his foot gave Riley the volume she commanded.
“Please, Mommy… tickle me…” Riley said more clearly. Georgia smirked.
“That’s my baby boy,” the woman said. She placed all of her nails at the base of Riley’s heels, kneeling onto the floor in front of them. Riley’s breath halted as he felt his mother’s most trusted tickle tools land down against his warm, soft feet. His soles were blushing pink, warm and slick with a slight residue. Georgia started slow, delicately brushing her son’s pearly heels with all ten fingers. Riley squealed into a steady stream of giggles.
“Eeeeeeekkkkhahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Mmmmahaahahahahahahahammmmm!” Riley laughed into the room, his ticklish plight only reaching those within its walls. His legs pulled back on the binds. The ropes tightened around his ankles. His feet flopped back and forth, but Georgia knew well how to keep up with them.
“Coochi, coochi, coo…” Georgia teased. Her fingers moved up the length of his soles. With five fingers to a foot, Georgia toyed with each of Riley’s slick, slender arches. Her nails caressed the creamy trails with complete relish in the boy’s manic laughter. With the softest of scribbles against his soles, Riley bounced against the bed. He screamed with the laughter filling his lungs. Jovial tears of ticklish ecstasy dripped from the corners of his eyes. “And who tickles little boy Riley the best?”
“AAAAAAHHHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!! HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MMMMAAHAHAHAHAAAAMMYYY!!!” Riley found the slip back into a younger version of himself a relaxing, natural escape, even in ticklish agony. In an instant, he was ten again and his mother had found him trapped under the bed, with his bare feet exposed and vulnerable to her ticklish will. His toes curl and bend. Faster and faster, Georgia skittered her fingers across his plush, pink soles. Riley thrashed back and forth against the bed. Her rocked and lurched as he screamed ticklish laughter.
“That’s right, Mommy does,” Georgia said. The woman giggled gleefully at watching her baby boy toss and turn beneath her tickling fingers. Her nails scribbled up both of his bare feet, trapped and all hers with which to play. She felt the familiar warmth against her palms, the winkles which always formed when she could curl his toes, and the way her nails slid ever so effortlessly against the soles that never lost their youthful plush. Her fingers scribbled up to the bases of his toes. Riley shrieked, the legs of the bed croaked beneath him as he pulled and pulled against his own ropes.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MMMMMAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAMMMYYYY!!!” The boy bellowed out into the bedroom. Ticklish jolts raced up from both of his feet through his body. He pulled and twisted and screamed with elated laughter. Riley shouted several pleas of mercy, despite the overwhelming rush of excitement that had come over him. His mother offered him none. She knew the boy’s limitations, and just adjusted with age. The pent up refrain from such a childish pastime urged Georgia to tickle the boy longer and harder than she ever had before, a change Riley greatly welcomed.
“Did you miss Mommy tickling you?” Georgia asked her son, still in condescending baby-talk. “Is that why you let Mommy find you this way?” While his mother’s discovery had not been his plan, Riley found the experiment to be more of a success than he could have imagined. The knots held up well against his natural reactions as his mother tickled him senseless. “Well, thank you for the gift. I’m just sorry I didn’t get you anything… I guess I’ll just have to give my baby boy all the tickles he wants.” Riley’s body objected with wild shakes of his head while the rest of him beamed at the idea. Georgia’s nails had slipped into the boy’s toes. Riley’s laughter hit a new high, a new shrieking octave.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PPPLLLEHEHEHEHEHEEAAASSSEEEE!!! MMMMAHAHAHAHAHAHAHMMMMMMYYY PLLLEHEHHAHAHASSSEEE!!!” Riley pleaded. His body begged for mercy while his mind pleaded for none. Georgia snickered, comforting her stance as she played with the boy’s toes.
“Such adorable little piggies,” Georgia teased. She scribbled her nails at the base of his toes, slipping them up the wiggling stems. She flicked her tools up from beneath the bubbly pads. Riley’s laughter was more screaming than anything else, but the rush enveloped him. He threw his head back. His cheeks burned like fresh cinders. His chest pounded. “Did these little piggies miss being played with by Mommy? Huh?” Riley slumped into the tone his mother set for him, finding joy in defeat.
“AAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! YYYEEHEHEHEHEEESSSSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Riley wheezed mad laughter. His toes wiggled around his mother’s nails, but her skills and experience with the boy kept him in a constant ticklish hysteria. Georgia skittered her nails across the plump, pink pads as they squirmed. She wedged her fingers in between each of Riley’s tender toes. The boy’s mother scratched away at the pale spaces, leaving Riley gasping and clutching for air.
“Tickle, tickle, little piggies…” Georgia taunted. Sweat draped over Riley’s body. His bare chest and feet glistened in the overhead light of his bedroom. He swallowed deep breaths, groaning breaths, as his mother continued to indulge him, enforcing the helplessness the boy had made for himself. She tickled his ears with a steady stream of teasing phrases, reducing him back to the days of boyhood. She thrived in sharing the moment to relive old times with her son, just as she knew he basked in the thrill. His smile never faltered. His laugh was never desperate. His pleas were never genuine. Georgia relished in the magical moment to tickle her son just as she always had.
Georgia looked up at the clock on Riley’s wall. She pulled away from his feet and left him gasping in his bondage. Riley swallowed the momentary break in deep gulps. His eyes were tired, yet sparkled with favor. He laughed residual laughs as he looked back to his mother staring down at him. Georgia peered down lovingly to her son. She stroked his sweaty hair out of his burning, young face.
“This was a lot of fun,” Georgia said, somewhat losing her demeaning tone. “Did you have fun too?” Riley nodded with exhaustion, a shivering smile resting across his face.
“Y… yeah…” Riley said on an exhale. “Thank… you…”
“No, thank you,” Georgia said. The woman turned and left the room. She promptly came back with a roll of duct tape. The woman picked up one of Riley’s socks. “Open wide.” Riley hesitated, though the tickling had beaten him into a distinct submission. He opened his mouth wide. Georgia stuffed the sock into his mouth and closed his lips with several strands of duct tape. She smiled down to the boy. “Now, Mommy still has to go and run some errands. You made her very late, so you’re going to stay right here while I’m out. Should only be about two or three hours. And when I get back, we’ll have more fun.” Riley’s eyes go wide. Georgia plants a soft kiss against the boy’s forehead before turning toward the door. Riley struggled against his binds to no avail. He moaned and wailed into his socked gag. Georgia opened his bedroom door and turned back to him with a sly smirk. “Be a good boy for Mommy while I’m gone, okay?” She smiled and laughed at the boy’s expression as she started out the room. Georgia closed the door behind her, leaving Riley effectively bound to his bed.
The boy was convinced his mother was just bluffing, that it was all in the act. His expectations shattered around him as he heard the woman opening and closing the front. He heard the soft crunch of tires against the driveway just outside his window, proving to him that his mother was seriously leaving him tied. Riley groaned, staring up at the ceiling. A voice sparked a hope in him that he may have some freedom, at least until his mother would return.
“Heehee, ticklish Riley, ticklish Riley…” Funny giggled. The monster slipped out from under Riley’s bed. He laughed his childish laugh as he recalled the ruthless, yet playful, tickling Riley’s mother had given him by the ferocity of his laughter. “Riley very ticklish! Funny like ticklish Riley!” Riley watched Funny bound to his feet, excitedly dancing around the room. Funny looked around. “Riley’s mommy no here. Funny come out and play!”
The monster turned to see Riley tied and splayed out across his bed. Funny smiled down to Riley as he approached the teen. “Riley like being tickled.” Funny’s eyes fell on the boy’s vulnerable disposition, as well as his bared feet and upper body. Funny giggled to himself. “Funny like tickling Riley.” Funny came up next to Riley’s chest. Riley looked back, shaking his head while he groaned and moaned into his gag. His chest continued to rise and fall from the previous tickle assault by his mother. His cheeks still shined red like stop lights. Funny smiled and laughed to himself. “Riley want Funny to tickle him.” Riley yelled contradictions into the gag his mother left him in, but made nothing more than indistinguishable muffles.
Funny cheered. The monster drove ten wiggling, furry fingers down into Riley’s belly. Riley lurched in his binds, screaming muffled laughter. The fur across Funny’s body always served to tickle alone, as was its purpose coating an actual tickle monster, but added ten expert tickling fingers driving into his stomach was almost too much for the teen to handle all at once. Riley threw his head back and forth, side to side, unable to tell his tickle monster to stop. Funny laughed along with Riley, thrusting him into a ticklish tempest almost all at once.
“Heehee, Funny know Riley likes tickles,” Funny said, scribbling his long, fuzzy fingers across Riley’s tightened tummy. The monster laughed aloud with his own innocent glee, oblivious to Riley’s teary cries. “Funny like tickling Riley! Riley so much fun to tickle all over! Funny tickle Riley until Riley’s mommy come back!” Funny’s fingers dashed quick tickles all over Riley’s tummy. The boy screamed and screamed into his gag, knowing Funny would not stop until he was forced to. Riley tried to scream at the creature, but all that sounded was his own muffled laughter.
“Yay, tickle Riley, tickle Riley,” Funny cheered, deaf to the teen’s strained pleas. “All day tickles!”
