Hello, all. Here's another story in my ongoing M/M series. Hope you enjoy!
THOSE WEDDING BELL BLUES
***
Have you ever felt totally helpless? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be completely at the mercy of someone who has the power to make you do whatever he wants? No? Count yourself lucky. I speak from experience when I say that it can be an excruciating experience. Here’s how it happened.
My first mistake was to ask Amanda Andrews to marry me. She wasn’t all that pretty, nor was she all that good in bed, but her father was worth a billion dollars or so, which made up for a lot. Hey, if you must get married, find yourself a rich girl. So I reasoned with myself.
My second mistake was to cheat on Amanda. We’d been engaged for a month or so when I met the voluptuous Michelle. Never mind her last name. The point is that she was everything that Amanda was not: pretty, sexy, horny and poor. I asked myself: What was the harm in a little fling? What my fiancée didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, after all.
My third mistake was to get caught in a compromising position with Michelle. Not by Amanda—that would have been bad, but what actually happened was worse. I was busted by her younger brother, a snotty twerp named Byron. And if you think that spelled the end of my engagement, well, you’re dead wrong. Byron was more than willing to keep my secret. For a price.
When he laid out his terms and conditions, my first impulse was to tell him to fuck off. I wasn’t too surprised to learn that Byron was a bit of a swish. Oh, he wasn’t a full-blown fag. He merely lived by the principle, as he put it, that variety is the spice of life. And he’d developed a bit of a crush on me. So if I would only gratify his desires, why, Byron would be happy to overlook my unfaithfulness to his sister. He wasn’t talking about anything TOO extreme—mutual masturbation, slap and tickle, perhaps a bit of bondage.
I suppose you think that I ought to have rejected this outrageous proposal. But I knew well enough that if Amanda learned of my dalliance with another woman, the engagement would be off. Call me greedy, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give up all the lovely money that Amanda would bring to our marriage. What was I supposed to do instead? Get a JOB? No, if I had to get naked with her fucking brother to keep him from ratting me out, so be it.
That was my fourth mistake.
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I screamed as Byron’s sharp-nailed fingers dug into my defenseless armpits. “AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
The old brass bed creaked as my arms and legs strained mightily against the bonds that secured my wrists and ankles to the corner posts. My bare behind bounced on the mattress; my belly convulsed with the effort of forcing out scream after gut-busting scream of ungodly, agonized laughter. My naked body was covered with goose bumps and oily sweat. When we arrived at his family’s secluded lakefront cottage, when the bedroom door closed behind me, I’d never expected anything like THIS—!
The thing was I’d had no idea that I was so incredibly fucking TICKLISH! So when Byron proposed tying me up and tickling me, I figured I was getting off easy. In the days prior to this, our first clandestine meeting, I’d been consumed with dread anticipation of the perverted, kinky demands that Byron might make. But TICKLING, for Christ’s sake! No problem!
“BWAAAAAAAAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed now, having discovered to my horror that tickling WAS a problem for me—a HUGE problem! Naked and spreadeagled, with Byron kneeling between my wide-open thighs, I was absolutely fucking HELPLESS! He could do whatever he fucking WANTED—and what he wanted to was tickle the living SHIT out of me!
“What’s WRONG, sweetie?” he inquired. “Don’t you LIKE it when I tickle your PITS?”
“HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE!!!” I screeched in response, writhing to and fro in a desperate, doomed attempt to evade his dancing fingers. “EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“I guess you didn’t realize just you TICKLISH you really are!” Byron snickered. “Isn’t it HUMILIATING, cutie buns? You don’t mind if I call you cutie buns, do you? I like to give my special friends a little NICKNAME—and that’s a perfect one for YOU!”
“OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I bellowed. Byron’s fingers were digging into my ribs now, and I couldn’t fucking STAND it! My nerves were buzzing like an overloaded electrical circuit. Repeated muscle spasms made my legs tremble violently. And a hot, greasy sensation was building low in my belly. It felt as if my guts were being slowly stirred with a wooden spoon over a low flame.
Byron was right. It WAS humiliating—especially in view of the fact that I was being tickled pink by none other than my slender, silk-skinned, future brother-in-law. Did I mention that Byron, too was bare-assed naked? Well, he was, and furthermore he was displaying unmistakable evidence of the pleasure he was taking in my hilarious plight. Even in the throes of laughter, I could hardly avoid noticing that his cock was standing at attention, stiff and quivering. From time to time he spared a hand to stroke himself. And when he noticed that I had noticed his state of arousal, he gave me a nasty smile.
“Ready for a little break?” he whispered. “I don’t want to wear you out too soon, cutie buns. The night is young and I have PLANS for us.”
I was busy gasping for air when he said that; even so, his words made me shiver. Christ, was this really WORTH it? What was this little bastard going to DO to me? I looked into his eyes, and quailed at what I saw.
“Now, why would a good-looking stud like you pay court to my mousey little sister, hmmmm?” He ran his fingers through my chest hair, still smiling nastily. “That was the question I asked myself. And the answer was pretty obvious.”
I thought I best to keep my mouth shut.
“So I got to thinking,” he went on. “It occurred to me that a guy who’s willing to do it with Amanda in return for a big payday might also be willing to do it with ME. And as it happens, cutie buns, you’re just my type. A handsome, muscular stud with a fatal weakness—greed.” He was still playing with my chest hair. Because of your greediness, cutie buns, I was pretty sure that I’d be able to lure you into a compromising position. And I was hoping that you’d turn out to be ticklish. For some reason, guys like you often are. And I was right. Which puts you in a bit of a spot, doesn’t it? Oh, I know I said that we wouldn’t do anything TOO kinky. But maybe I can get you to change your MIND!”
Whereupon Byron’s hands darted down to dance on my belly!
“HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked. Oh GOD, was there NO part of my body that wasn’t unbearably fucking TICKLISH—?!
“That’s right, cutie buns,” Byron gloated. “LAUGH for me! Laugh your handsome HEAD off for me! Come on cutie buns—laugh a little LOUDER for me!”
“OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I howled, doing my very best to obey his command. Once again the old brass bed creaked as I struggled in my bonds. My naked body was seized with an uncontrollable trembling. A fresh eruption of goose bumps roughened my skin, causing the hairs on my arms and legs to stiffen like little wires.
Byron observed all this with avid eyes that left little to the imagination. It was plain what he intended to do. This horrific tickling would go on and on and fucking ON until I broke down in fucking HYSTERICS and promised to do ANYTHING he wanted! And it was becoming alarmingly clear that Byron had a very GOOD imagination—!
So I squirmed and wiggled and sweated and raised the ROOF with scream after earsplitting scream of insane fucking LAUGHTER as Byron worked me over. His hands darted up to stroke my armpits again, then down to my ribs, then down again to tickle my drum-tight belly. And try as I might to avoid thinking about it, I was beginning to wish that his clever hands would go just a LITTLE bit lower. . .
“OH NO!!!” I cried. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” The little bastard was beginning to turn me ON! I was getting HORNY! I couldn’t HELP it! And oh SHIT fucking Byron could SEE what was HAPPENING!
“Mmmm, now will you look that THAT!” Byron exclaimed. “You’re getting all EXCITED, aren’t you? I think you LIKE it when I tickle you, cutie buns! I think it makes you get all HOT and BOTHERED!”
“PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEESE!!!” I shrieked. ‘YOU CAN’T!!! I WON’T!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!!! GAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
“Oh, but I CAN, cutie buns,” Byron whispered. “And you WILL!”
His hands slipped down to stroke my trembling thighs, then crept lower still to tickle the backs of my knees. And though I strained and struggled to keep it from happening, my asshole tightened, my balls tensed, and my cock stiffened. Now we were BOTH in a manly way! And I couldn’t HELP it—I wanted him to TICKLE my tumid TOOL—!
“Welcome to the family, cutie buns,” Byron whispered. He was tickling my thighs again. The sensation made my toes curl. “Of course you realize that you’re going to have to earn your KEEP!”
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I screeched, arching my back and wiggling my hips in a manner calculated to draw Byron’s attention to my state of arousal. But he merely smiled grimly and went right on with his ticklish assault. “AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” he explained a few minutes later as his hands moved up to my ribs again. Mercifully, however, he suspended the tickling. “Now pay attention, cutie buns,” he went on. “You can marry poor Amanda. After the wedding, you can even keep seeing that BIMBO on the side if you want. But that’s only for so long as you’re my friend—my SPECIAL friend,” he elaborated, once more running his fingers through my chest hair. “And I have to confess, I’ll be MEAN to you, cutie buns. Oh, yes. VERY mean. But you’ll ADORE it. I promise. And in return you’ll be NICE to me. . .”
Byron then proceeded to demonstrate what be meant when he promised to be mean to me.
“I know you want to CUM.” He whispered. “Deny it all you want, but I can always tell. Right now, you want me to STROKE your big hard cock, and TEASE it, and TICKLE it, until you squirt all OVER yourself. Isn’t that true, cutie buns? Isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer—not in words. But when Byron began caressing my rigid rod with the tips of his fingers, I arched my back again and shivered all over. That was answer enough.
“That’s right, cutie buns. Only a guy can REALLY give you what you want. The forbidden fruit. The fulfillment of all those late-night masturbation fantasies.” His fingertips kept stroking the length of my twitching shaft. “But here’s the thing. I’m NOT going to give it to you!”
And for perhaps thirty seconds, fucking Byron STROKED me—hard and fast! An absolutely GLORIOUS sensation gripped my balls! I lifted my BUTT from the mattress and wiggled my HIPS! And I KNEW—I was SURE—that nothing could prevent me from cumming my fucking BRAINS out—!
But then he fucking STOPPED!
“Uh-uh, cutie buns,” he chortled. “You wouldn’t want to make a MESS, would you?”
And then he started to TICKLE my fucking ARMPITS again!
“YAAAAHAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I shrieked, squirming like a worm on a hotplate. “AAAAH-HAA!! AAAAH-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
“Maybe THIS will sweep away all those nasty, naughty thoughts!” Byron whispered. “Oh the other hand, it might actually make you MORE horny!”
His sharp-nailed fingers probed and stroked the delicate flesh of my hollows, sending thrill after excruciating thrill of unbearably ticklish torment shooting through my writhing body. I jerked my torso to and fro in a futile attempt to escape his dancing digits. My arms and legs quivered. And my treacherous fucking COCK got even harder! Never in my LIFE had I had an erection this fierce. It was INSANE! I was going CRAZY! And oh, how I fucking ADORED it—!
I have no idea how many times Byron pulled this erotic bait and switch on me before he took mercy on me and granted me the blessed release I so desperately craved. Let’s just say that I did a LOT of begging, pleading, gasping, grunting, sweating, writhing, wiggling and laughing—and finally a lot of messy squirting. It all turned out as he’d promised, though. First he was very, VERY mean to me—and then I was EXTREMELY nice to him. As for the wedding, it went off as planned.
I can’t say that I was looking forward to my wedding night. Not only was Amanda plain, she was chaste. Not once during our courtship and engagement had I managed to get to second base with her. And of course, I had by then feasted on the sweet, forbidden fruits of a rather perverted all-male intimacy. The dirty little games I played in secret with Byron would, I told myself, more than compensate for the shortcomings of my sex life with boring little Amanda. Thus was I prepared to do my duty.
So it was somewhat of a surprise when Amanda opened the closet door and took out several lengths of rope.
“What are those for?” I asked.
“They’re for you,” she replied. “I’m going to tie you down to the bed. Would you like that?”
I stared at my new wife. With her light brown hair disordered and her slender, well-toned body covered by nothing but a thin silk robe, she didn’t look half bad.
“Tie me up?” I smiled. “Sure baby, if that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t believe my luck! Not only would I be Byron’s docile sex poodle, but Amanda’s as well! I’d have to make sure that she learned about the tickling thing, and about the orgasm denial thing. And about all the other dirty, disgusting but delightful games that Byron and I played together. It would be SO much fun to play those same games with Amanda—!
Hurriedly, I began to undress. In a moment I was stark naked, shivering slightly under the inspection of my new, surprisingly sexy wife.
“Okay,” she said. “On the bed. Face up.”
As I scurried to obey, Amanda urged me forward with a stinging slap to my bare behind. “Move it, cutie buns,” she giggled.
I stopped short and spun around. “Wha-wha-what did you call me?” I stammered.
Amanda smiled.
Have you ever felt totally helpless? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be completely at the mercy of someone who has the power to make you do whatever he wants? No? Count yourself lucky. I speak from experience when I say that it can be an EXTREMELY excruciating experience. And rather a delightful one.
THOSE WEDDING BELL BLUES
***
Have you ever felt totally helpless? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be completely at the mercy of someone who has the power to make you do whatever he wants? No? Count yourself lucky. I speak from experience when I say that it can be an excruciating experience. Here’s how it happened.
My first mistake was to ask Amanda Andrews to marry me. She wasn’t all that pretty, nor was she all that good in bed, but her father was worth a billion dollars or so, which made up for a lot. Hey, if you must get married, find yourself a rich girl. So I reasoned with myself.
My second mistake was to cheat on Amanda. We’d been engaged for a month or so when I met the voluptuous Michelle. Never mind her last name. The point is that she was everything that Amanda was not: pretty, sexy, horny and poor. I asked myself: What was the harm in a little fling? What my fiancée didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, after all.
My third mistake was to get caught in a compromising position with Michelle. Not by Amanda—that would have been bad, but what actually happened was worse. I was busted by her younger brother, a snotty twerp named Byron. And if you think that spelled the end of my engagement, well, you’re dead wrong. Byron was more than willing to keep my secret. For a price.
When he laid out his terms and conditions, my first impulse was to tell him to fuck off. I wasn’t too surprised to learn that Byron was a bit of a swish. Oh, he wasn’t a full-blown fag. He merely lived by the principle, as he put it, that variety is the spice of life. And he’d developed a bit of a crush on me. So if I would only gratify his desires, why, Byron would be happy to overlook my unfaithfulness to his sister. He wasn’t talking about anything TOO extreme—mutual masturbation, slap and tickle, perhaps a bit of bondage.
I suppose you think that I ought to have rejected this outrageous proposal. But I knew well enough that if Amanda learned of my dalliance with another woman, the engagement would be off. Call me greedy, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give up all the lovely money that Amanda would bring to our marriage. What was I supposed to do instead? Get a JOB? No, if I had to get naked with her fucking brother to keep him from ratting me out, so be it.
That was my fourth mistake.
***
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I screamed as Byron’s sharp-nailed fingers dug into my defenseless armpits. “AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
The old brass bed creaked as my arms and legs strained mightily against the bonds that secured my wrists and ankles to the corner posts. My bare behind bounced on the mattress; my belly convulsed with the effort of forcing out scream after gut-busting scream of ungodly, agonized laughter. My naked body was covered with goose bumps and oily sweat. When we arrived at his family’s secluded lakefront cottage, when the bedroom door closed behind me, I’d never expected anything like THIS—!
The thing was I’d had no idea that I was so incredibly fucking TICKLISH! So when Byron proposed tying me up and tickling me, I figured I was getting off easy. In the days prior to this, our first clandestine meeting, I’d been consumed with dread anticipation of the perverted, kinky demands that Byron might make. But TICKLING, for Christ’s sake! No problem!
“BWAAAAAAAAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed now, having discovered to my horror that tickling WAS a problem for me—a HUGE problem! Naked and spreadeagled, with Byron kneeling between my wide-open thighs, I was absolutely fucking HELPLESS! He could do whatever he fucking WANTED—and what he wanted to was tickle the living SHIT out of me!
“What’s WRONG, sweetie?” he inquired. “Don’t you LIKE it when I tickle your PITS?”
“HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE!!!” I screeched in response, writhing to and fro in a desperate, doomed attempt to evade his dancing fingers. “EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“I guess you didn’t realize just you TICKLISH you really are!” Byron snickered. “Isn’t it HUMILIATING, cutie buns? You don’t mind if I call you cutie buns, do you? I like to give my special friends a little NICKNAME—and that’s a perfect one for YOU!”
“OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I bellowed. Byron’s fingers were digging into my ribs now, and I couldn’t fucking STAND it! My nerves were buzzing like an overloaded electrical circuit. Repeated muscle spasms made my legs tremble violently. And a hot, greasy sensation was building low in my belly. It felt as if my guts were being slowly stirred with a wooden spoon over a low flame.
Byron was right. It WAS humiliating—especially in view of the fact that I was being tickled pink by none other than my slender, silk-skinned, future brother-in-law. Did I mention that Byron, too was bare-assed naked? Well, he was, and furthermore he was displaying unmistakable evidence of the pleasure he was taking in my hilarious plight. Even in the throes of laughter, I could hardly avoid noticing that his cock was standing at attention, stiff and quivering. From time to time he spared a hand to stroke himself. And when he noticed that I had noticed his state of arousal, he gave me a nasty smile.
“Ready for a little break?” he whispered. “I don’t want to wear you out too soon, cutie buns. The night is young and I have PLANS for us.”
I was busy gasping for air when he said that; even so, his words made me shiver. Christ, was this really WORTH it? What was this little bastard going to DO to me? I looked into his eyes, and quailed at what I saw.
“Now, why would a good-looking stud like you pay court to my mousey little sister, hmmmm?” He ran his fingers through my chest hair, still smiling nastily. “That was the question I asked myself. And the answer was pretty obvious.”
I thought I best to keep my mouth shut.
“So I got to thinking,” he went on. “It occurred to me that a guy who’s willing to do it with Amanda in return for a big payday might also be willing to do it with ME. And as it happens, cutie buns, you’re just my type. A handsome, muscular stud with a fatal weakness—greed.” He was still playing with my chest hair. Because of your greediness, cutie buns, I was pretty sure that I’d be able to lure you into a compromising position. And I was hoping that you’d turn out to be ticklish. For some reason, guys like you often are. And I was right. Which puts you in a bit of a spot, doesn’t it? Oh, I know I said that we wouldn’t do anything TOO kinky. But maybe I can get you to change your MIND!”
Whereupon Byron’s hands darted down to dance on my belly!
“HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked. Oh GOD, was there NO part of my body that wasn’t unbearably fucking TICKLISH—?!
“That’s right, cutie buns,” Byron gloated. “LAUGH for me! Laugh your handsome HEAD off for me! Come on cutie buns—laugh a little LOUDER for me!”
“OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I howled, doing my very best to obey his command. Once again the old brass bed creaked as I struggled in my bonds. My naked body was seized with an uncontrollable trembling. A fresh eruption of goose bumps roughened my skin, causing the hairs on my arms and legs to stiffen like little wires.
Byron observed all this with avid eyes that left little to the imagination. It was plain what he intended to do. This horrific tickling would go on and on and fucking ON until I broke down in fucking HYSTERICS and promised to do ANYTHING he wanted! And it was becoming alarmingly clear that Byron had a very GOOD imagination—!
So I squirmed and wiggled and sweated and raised the ROOF with scream after earsplitting scream of insane fucking LAUGHTER as Byron worked me over. His hands darted up to stroke my armpits again, then down to my ribs, then down again to tickle my drum-tight belly. And try as I might to avoid thinking about it, I was beginning to wish that his clever hands would go just a LITTLE bit lower. . .
“OH NO!!!” I cried. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” The little bastard was beginning to turn me ON! I was getting HORNY! I couldn’t HELP it! And oh SHIT fucking Byron could SEE what was HAPPENING!
“Mmmm, now will you look that THAT!” Byron exclaimed. “You’re getting all EXCITED, aren’t you? I think you LIKE it when I tickle you, cutie buns! I think it makes you get all HOT and BOTHERED!”
“PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEESE!!!” I shrieked. ‘YOU CAN’T!!! I WON’T!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!!! GAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
“Oh, but I CAN, cutie buns,” Byron whispered. “And you WILL!”
His hands slipped down to stroke my trembling thighs, then crept lower still to tickle the backs of my knees. And though I strained and struggled to keep it from happening, my asshole tightened, my balls tensed, and my cock stiffened. Now we were BOTH in a manly way! And I couldn’t HELP it—I wanted him to TICKLE my tumid TOOL—!
“Welcome to the family, cutie buns,” Byron whispered. He was tickling my thighs again. The sensation made my toes curl. “Of course you realize that you’re going to have to earn your KEEP!”
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I screeched, arching my back and wiggling my hips in a manner calculated to draw Byron’s attention to my state of arousal. But he merely smiled grimly and went right on with his ticklish assault. “AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” he explained a few minutes later as his hands moved up to my ribs again. Mercifully, however, he suspended the tickling. “Now pay attention, cutie buns,” he went on. “You can marry poor Amanda. After the wedding, you can even keep seeing that BIMBO on the side if you want. But that’s only for so long as you’re my friend—my SPECIAL friend,” he elaborated, once more running his fingers through my chest hair. “And I have to confess, I’ll be MEAN to you, cutie buns. Oh, yes. VERY mean. But you’ll ADORE it. I promise. And in return you’ll be NICE to me. . .”
Byron then proceeded to demonstrate what be meant when he promised to be mean to me.
“I know you want to CUM.” He whispered. “Deny it all you want, but I can always tell. Right now, you want me to STROKE your big hard cock, and TEASE it, and TICKLE it, until you squirt all OVER yourself. Isn’t that true, cutie buns? Isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer—not in words. But when Byron began caressing my rigid rod with the tips of his fingers, I arched my back again and shivered all over. That was answer enough.
“That’s right, cutie buns. Only a guy can REALLY give you what you want. The forbidden fruit. The fulfillment of all those late-night masturbation fantasies.” His fingertips kept stroking the length of my twitching shaft. “But here’s the thing. I’m NOT going to give it to you!”
And for perhaps thirty seconds, fucking Byron STROKED me—hard and fast! An absolutely GLORIOUS sensation gripped my balls! I lifted my BUTT from the mattress and wiggled my HIPS! And I KNEW—I was SURE—that nothing could prevent me from cumming my fucking BRAINS out—!
But then he fucking STOPPED!
“Uh-uh, cutie buns,” he chortled. “You wouldn’t want to make a MESS, would you?”
And then he started to TICKLE my fucking ARMPITS again!
“YAAAAHAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I shrieked, squirming like a worm on a hotplate. “AAAAH-HAA!! AAAAH-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
“Maybe THIS will sweep away all those nasty, naughty thoughts!” Byron whispered. “Oh the other hand, it might actually make you MORE horny!”
His sharp-nailed fingers probed and stroked the delicate flesh of my hollows, sending thrill after excruciating thrill of unbearably ticklish torment shooting through my writhing body. I jerked my torso to and fro in a futile attempt to escape his dancing digits. My arms and legs quivered. And my treacherous fucking COCK got even harder! Never in my LIFE had I had an erection this fierce. It was INSANE! I was going CRAZY! And oh, how I fucking ADORED it—!
I have no idea how many times Byron pulled this erotic bait and switch on me before he took mercy on me and granted me the blessed release I so desperately craved. Let’s just say that I did a LOT of begging, pleading, gasping, grunting, sweating, writhing, wiggling and laughing—and finally a lot of messy squirting. It all turned out as he’d promised, though. First he was very, VERY mean to me—and then I was EXTREMELY nice to him. As for the wedding, it went off as planned.
***
I can’t say that I was looking forward to my wedding night. Not only was Amanda plain, she was chaste. Not once during our courtship and engagement had I managed to get to second base with her. And of course, I had by then feasted on the sweet, forbidden fruits of a rather perverted all-male intimacy. The dirty little games I played in secret with Byron would, I told myself, more than compensate for the shortcomings of my sex life with boring little Amanda. Thus was I prepared to do my duty.
So it was somewhat of a surprise when Amanda opened the closet door and took out several lengths of rope.
“What are those for?” I asked.
“They’re for you,” she replied. “I’m going to tie you down to the bed. Would you like that?”
I stared at my new wife. With her light brown hair disordered and her slender, well-toned body covered by nothing but a thin silk robe, she didn’t look half bad.
“Tie me up?” I smiled. “Sure baby, if that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t believe my luck! Not only would I be Byron’s docile sex poodle, but Amanda’s as well! I’d have to make sure that she learned about the tickling thing, and about the orgasm denial thing. And about all the other dirty, disgusting but delightful games that Byron and I played together. It would be SO much fun to play those same games with Amanda—!
Hurriedly, I began to undress. In a moment I was stark naked, shivering slightly under the inspection of my new, surprisingly sexy wife.
“Okay,” she said. “On the bed. Face up.”
As I scurried to obey, Amanda urged me forward with a stinging slap to my bare behind. “Move it, cutie buns,” she giggled.
I stopped short and spun around. “Wha-wha-what did you call me?” I stammered.
Amanda smiled.
Have you ever felt totally helpless? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be completely at the mercy of someone who has the power to make you do whatever he wants? No? Count yourself lucky. I speak from experience when I say that it can be an EXTREMELY excruciating experience. And rather a delightful one.
