Ticklishboy30
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2010
- Messages
- 237
- Points
- 18
Jason's cabin in Rainbow Falls County...
When he turned off the main road and the narrow driveway's dirt and gravel crunched under the Ninja's front tire, memories began flooding Jason's thoughts. It had been three years since he'd laid eyes on the familiar surroundings. The green-haired driver managed to fight the urge to close his eyes as the inviting and comforting scent of pine was slowly inhaled and savored.
Remembrances of the freedom and happiness he felt back when he worked as a forest ranger for Thomas Growling Bear, who was head of Rainbow Falls Forest Rangers, a position he thought the Shaman probably still held, and of being trained by Phoenix before the redhead left for the city, brought a sincere smile to his face. Jason loved and respected his boss for many reasons. One reason was that the man was a great and patient teacher who paid attention to the rangers' strengths and weaknesses, and placed them in areas of the job where they felt comfortable and were most knowledgeable. Thomas understood and respected that he was not big on firearms, so he only had to use one at the firing range when the guidelines required a certain number of hours to continue being a ranger. Because he excelled at wilderness survival, was almost a horticulture expert, and could recite pertinent and sometimes lifesaving information about the various species of plant life, Growling Bear used him as a guide for nature hikes and had him patrol the areas with the heaviest amount of camper traffic. Another reason he loved the older man was that he became a much-needed and desired father figure to him, and Dusty and Spirit were like his brothers.
The motorcycle came to a stop outside of a rustic, two-bedroom, open-concept cabin with its front porch, in need of a little bit of TLC to bring it back to vitality. The rider shut down the engine and dismounted. He pulled some tools out of his backpack, removed the bike's front tire, just in case any possible trespassers might be tempted to go for an unauthorized spin, and carried the wheel with him into the cabin.
After a strong sneeze that made him double over, Jason muttered, "Okay! First item on the list, dusting." Never being one who liked wearing clothes unless absolutely necessary, the green-haired boy at heart, indulged the nudist in him, and shed all the fabric from his body, except for his socks, which he'd discard after getting the cabin cleaned up.
While going about his chores, the day he met Charles played vividly in his head. He stopped dusting, sat on the aging futon, facing the brick fireplace, closed his eyes, and drifted into the past.
Flashback
It was a warm, late summer day. Jason, Phoenix, and Thomas Growling Bear were in the ranger station's lobby, about to be interviewed by Charles Peterson, who at the time was a young, eager, and visibly nervous journalist, working on his debut article about the county's forest rangers for the "Rainbow Falls Dispatch."
"Umm... Th... Thank you for meeting with me, M... Mr Windsong. Your reputation as a very gifted and powerful Shaman is beyond reproach, and is so widely praised, it makes me think of the wonderful good you could do if you held a public office. I've heard a lot of wonderful things bout you from pretty much everyone I've spoken to. If you've got any enemies or people who don't love and respect you, I didn't encounter them or hear of their opinions."
The statement brought a very pink blush to the inexperienced reporter's cheeks, which Thomas, Jason, and Phoenix found adorable and endearing.
"Thank you for the kind words, young man. You speak with and convey genuine sincerity. I'm honored and humbled by not only your words but also their respectful delivery. Please, let me fix you some herbal tea specifically mixed for a calming effect," Thomas offered.
The Shaman spoke in a soft, fatherly tone of voice, which he and his two rangers noticed had an immediate positive effect on the emerald-eyed male.
"Thank you, Mr. Windsong."
"Please, no mister, I'm just Thomas or Growling Bear, and I prefer you use whichever name makes you most comfortable, my Son."
Behind the thin-rimmed glasses, Charles' eyes widened and sparkled as a shocked expression showed on his face.
Unable to help himself, Phoenix chuckled and muttered, "Don't ever play poker, cutie pie. You'd never be able to bluff on a hand."
The three rangers chuckled while the reporter blushed and tried to disappear.
After a moment, the green-eyed male composed himself enough to hesitantly ask, "Son."
"Let me explain, my adopted father's use of the title. The Creator is the father of all life on this planet. As a Shaman and the possessor of much knowledge, Growling Bear calls almost every young person he meets Son. However, that being said, there are times when the sentiment behind the words holds a deeper, more personal, and parental meaning when my Daddy feels a connection with the younger person he's talking with. Because of the connection we share, I can feel that a type of parental connection is being forged between you and Thomas."
Thomas and Jason snickered as the head of the forest rangers narrowed his eyes, looked at his red-haired adopted boy, and asked, "Daddy?"
"Careful, old man, I know where ya sleep," Phoenix playfully threatened.
The eldest of the quartet got up to go into his office and fix the tea for Charles. With a boyish grin, his hand moved quicker than the three pairs of younger eyes could see, and slapped the back of his red-haired boy's head.
"Aarrgh," Phoenix grunted as he leaned forward and rubbed the back of his head.
Thomas chuckled and asked, "Something wrong, Son?"
Phoenix glared at the Shaman and growled.
Jason's and Charles were leaning against each other, laughing like hyenas at the playful antics.
When the hysterical laughter died down, Jason and Phoenix each gently grasped one of the blonde's hands, and the trio jumped slightly because of the electric shock they felt when their fingers touched.
Charles hesitantly asked, "Umm, is it okay if I confide in you two?"
"Of course, sexy," Jason said.
The brunette instantly blushed because he'd used sexy without knowing or meaning to.
"I'm not a mind reader, but I can easily see the matching bulges in our pants, and we all felt the shock when we touched, and there's nothing we're rubbing against that would cause static electricity," Phoenix observed.
Charles stuttered, "I... I..." He paused and took a breath before continuing, "I'm gay." He pointed to Jason, saying, "And unless you, calling me sexy was a fluke," after another breath, he pointed to Phoenix, "and you mentioning the shared spark, and our bulges, was just an observation, I guess that means my gaydar's working perfectly and you're both gay,
Without hesitation or the need for approval, the redhead and brunette, in unison, responded with a firm, "We are."
Charles displayed what would soon become his famous blush. He took another deep breath, then admitted, "I'm attracted to both of you, but..." He stopped to gaze into Jason's eyes and went further. "It's Jason, right?" He waited till the other man nodded and finished his statement. "Jason, I'm feeling a stronger pull to you. Would it be okay with the two of you if we could have fun and get to know each other better? That's if neither of you is in a committed relationship. I'll never break up a happy couple."
"I think that is an awesome proposal," Jason stated with excitement and a sparkle in his brown eyes.
"I'm game, if you guys are," Phoenix said before licking his lips. "Aww, shucks!! There's something I'm dyin' to do, and I hope you guys don't haul off and smack the shit outta me."
Before anyone else could speak, the redhead moved so that he and Jason were on either side of their blonde boy. He placed his hand on the back of Charles' head, pulled him closer, and as both of them closed their eyes, their lips connected for a soft and loving kiss.
Thomas sat at his desk, watching the boys through the open door of his office with a bright smile. He smiled in approval of the young men exploring and revealing their true selves to each other, then, after a slight nod of his head, the door magically and silently closed.
Jason's eyes glazed over seeing the two guys liplocked, he felt his dick plump even more, and noticed the other two cocks were hardening more as well.
The slightly more muscular guy out of the trio ended the kiss, then leaned across the reporter and shared one with Jason that was a twin to the first he gave.
This made the blonde horny as hell, and he lovingly kissed Jason's cheek, then Phoenix's cheek, before lightly stroking their backs. A grin formed, and he giggled when the other guys squirmed and released their boyish giggles. He smirked, then tickled the brunette's right hip and his other companion's left hip.
"You boys aren't ticklish, are you?"
Jason and Phoenix writhed and jumped in the chairs while hysterically laughing and squealing, trying to dislodge their playful tickle assailant's fingers from their sensitive spots.
"Oh, it's on, blondie," the giggling men said.
Charles yelped as the strong guys pulled him over and down, placed him across their laps, and an arm belonging to each of them kept him from escaping.
Phoenix reasoned, "Seein' as how you learned about and put our ticklishness to use, it seems only fair that we discover any ticklishness of yours."
Charles squirmed and bucked, trying to get free, and when the five fingers from each of his captors tickled him, his laughter bounced around the station's lobby. His legs writhed and thrashed, and his head flew back and forth, then jerked side to side. "No... Not my stomach, pits, and sides at the same time," he hollered between the boisterous laughs.
Jason and Phoenix loved the reaction they got from the tickle attack and shared a kiss over their helpless, hysterically laughing victim.
"Aww, he's so cute with the string of drool coming from the side of his mouth," Jason teased.
"Coochie, Coochie, Chuckster," Phoenix said, giggling.
"Nooooo... The coochie taunt makes it tickle more," Charles exclaimed while still helplessly laughing.
After a total of five minutes, the tickling duo released their mate, and they helped him into the public bathroom so he could clean up and continue the interview when Thomas returned with the tea.
While in the bathroom, the redhead was going crazy because of his aching cock's need to release its seed, and after looking at the other guys as they continuously fidgeted with and repositioned themselves, he knew the brown and blonde-haired duo were in the same fix. He also figured a little sexual release might help Charles let go of the tension and relax his nerves.
"Guys, I suggest we take a few minutes to really get ourselves together."
Jason and Charles glanced at one another, then at Phoenix. Their eyes never left the ginger as he pulled his boots off, pulled his pants and underwear down, and off of his muscular legs, and stood with his hardened cock proudly displayed. Neither one had an objection to or tried to stop it when Jason's boots, pants, and underwear were removed, and then Charles' shoes and clothes were tossed on the pile in the corner by the door. Now, there were three healthy, horny specimens of manhood, standing in their socks, with their lengthy, steel rod-like penises pointing to the wall and not the floor.
Phoenix lightly blushed and said, "Charles, in the spirit of full disclosure, Jason and I have played around together, but we've never felt the need or desire to be in a committed relationship." He paused, glanced at the brunette, who was smiling and nodding. Out of nervousness, his right hand lightly rubbed the back of his head as he sheepishly asked, "So, are y'all okay with me gettin' you both off?"
"Only if we can return the favor," Charles said, with Jason nodding in agreement.
The slimmer pair out of the trio leaned against the wall, they gasped, released soft, airy, boyish giggles, and squirmed when their ballsacks were licked by the warm tongue. When the talented redhead began gently sucking each of the four balls one after another into his mouth and running his tongue around them, Jason and Charles rose up on their sock-clad toes, squealing and writhing as they leaned into each other's bodies, and in pure ecstasy, whimpered like newborn pups. Precum leaked from both cockheads and fell on Phoenix's face. Two sets of green eyes and one set of brown irises glazed over once the shaft sucking began. Breathy moans, grunts, and the scent of sweat mixed with hormones filled the bathroom. While he was giving them a blowjob, the standing men's hands worked together, jerking the third cock.
"Fuck! No wonder you want to go into the porn business, Nix. You're a fuckin' master at this," Jason stated through a long moan.
"I'll totally support your career and buy your movies," Charles lustily vowed.
Phoenix took a second and said, "Kiss while I finish you guys, you're both about to bust."
Not wanting to spoil the mood, Jason and Charles obeyed. It wasn't long before they swallowed each other's grunt, when they orgasmed, and their cum was devoured by the hungry man licking their dicks. They pulled Phoenix to his feet and returned the gifted blow job. The licking and sucking duo didn't have to wait long because seconds after their mouths and tongues touched the male's manhood, it exploded, and the warm, creamy seed was shared between them. While recovering, a passionate, three-way kiss and cuddles were shared. That's how Jason and Phoenix learned what an affectionate cuddle monster their adorable blonde boy was, and how much he craved them.
End Of Flashback
Jason's eyes opened, and he gasped when he felt a wet stickiness at his crotch. 'Damn! That memory's still one of the hottest and best experiences of my younger life. I love you, Charles, Phoenix. Too bad Luke wasn't in our lives back then, I love him just as much. Maybe a little later, I'll stop by the ranger station and see if Papa Growling Bear's there. I miss him and my brothers,' he thought.
*****
The Ranger Station in Rainbow Falls...
Thomas was at his computer, checking on the latest weather forecast and radar images, when his biological sons burst into the office. He looked up at the excited pair and chuckled before saying,
"Something to report, boys?"
"He's back, Great Father," Dusty Windsong almost hollered.
The elder of the two siblings was bouncing on the balls and heels of his feet, which resulted in his dad's amused expression.
"Son, the bathroom's vacant if you have to pee so bad that you're doing the peepee dance."
The twenty-year-old Blackfoot male glared and scowled at his laughing brother and father, but was so happy, he couldn't hold back the smile and giggles.
"I take it you've discovered your honorary brother, Jason, has returned home?'
The boys gasped, although they didn't know why the statement shocked them, because the Creator shared information with Growling Bear through received visions, the Shaman knew about certain things before the events happened.
Nineteen-year-old Spirit Windsong was the next to speak.
"We believe it's him, Dad. Although we weren't entirely sure because his appearance is different. The man we observed at the cabin had..."
"Green skin and hair, and carries the scent of your other honorary brother, Charles, and another being you haven't met as of yet, who's half-fairy?"
Thomas smirked, and because of the expression on Spirit's face, his giggles blended with his eldest son's giggling.
"You take all the fun out of giving you news, Dad," Spirit childishly whined and then pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yes, my children, it was Jason you saw, and unless I am mistaken, we will see him before the sun sets."
The Windsong men shared a loving hug and cheek kisses. When they separated, a brilliant white and blue light surrounded the boys, and they stood with their legs and arms spread apart. Dusty transformed into a majestic Bald Eagle, and Spirit transformed into a shimmering pure white wolf with glowing ice blue eyes. Thomas opened a window facing the forest as the eagle released an almost ear-piercing cry, and the wolf raised its head to let loose an earth-shaking howl. The magical pair left through the window and disappeared into the sky and trees.
Growling Bear shook his head, twisted and wiggled his index fingers in his ears, and muttered, "I've told them a thousand times not to be so loud with their animal sounds indoors. I swear, I'll be deaf before I reach my two-hundredth birthday, in a hundred years."
*****
Worker Inc. in Joy City
The meeting came to a close, and everyone wore smiles. They complimented the new CEO and shook his hand as they left the boardroom. All except for fifty-year-old Gordon Hart, who stayed behind until he and Luke were the only ones present.
The salt-and-pepper-haired man was among the first to invest in Worker Inc. He approached the new CEO, looking at him with narrowed eyes, and despite being shorter and less muscular than the younger brunette, he attempted to force his views on the other man. In a forceful, gruff voice, he almost bellowed, "Luke, I've got major concerns with you wanting to remain a journalist while holding the company's CEO position."
Luke's eyes darkened, he could feel the heat rising in his body, and somehow managed to keep his rage in check, at least for the moment.
"What exactly are your concerns, Gordon?"
A bright redness colored the spluttering male's face. He repeatedly jabbed his index finger into the shirt-clad chest and fumed, "I have never been spoken to with such disrespect. Be warned, I'm not above putting your punk ass in your place. Young man, you may be the CEO, but you'll refer to me with the respect and honor I'm due by calling me Mr. Hart."
Had the man possessed an iota of common sense, equal in weight to a grain of salt, he would have noticed the rising dark mood and felt the increasingly frosty chills in the room, and changed his tone of voice and rhetoric. However, the warning signs and flashing red lights signaling danger were lost on the blustering fool.
"You're lucky I didn't call you a criminal and all-around disgustingly poor excuse for a person, you pious windbag. I have indisputable evidence of your fraudulent schemes, the bribes you've pulled off, the funds you've embezzled from this company, and money and votes you blackmailed from other investors. I'm warning you, everything in this room is recorded and stored on multiple hard drives. If you try fucking with me, you'll find yourself on the wrong side of a jail cell and embroiled in an expensive lawsuit. As of right now, I'm willing to accept your resignation as an investor and let you leave MY company's building with your dignity intact."
The man's rage-filled brown eyes widened, and Luke chuckled because he could swear there was steam coming from his antagonist's ears.
"You little fuckin' bastard. You don't have the clout or the ability to force me to resign, and don't get me started on what proof you have, or the lack thereof, to back your claims."
Luke was about to respond, but an unseen fist plowed into his gut, with such force that he grunted, doubled over, and stumbled backwards into a chair.
Not wanting to let the fallen man get to his feet, Gordon rushed his intended victim.
Thinking fast, the CEO's legs lashed out, and the soles of his shoes rammed into the advancing guy's stomach.
The blow brought tears to the older man's eyes and winded him. He doubled over, clutched his stomach, and fell to his knees, squirming and groaning in pain.
"You just made a very costly and big mistake, jackass," Luke menacingly growled.
The door flew open, and two security guards walked into the room. One of them was Jeff Booker. The forty-five-year-old, six-foot-three, brown-eyed, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound African-American was a linebacker for his high school and college football teams and had kept his muscular tone through the years. The other guard was Wilson Moore. The six-foot-tall, one-hundred-and-eighty-five-pound redhead had gray eyes and a thick mustache.
"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Drewford," Jeff said.
"The elevator took forever, Wilson added while he roughly pulled Gordon to his feet and kept an unbreakable iron grip on the struggling, squirming man's arm.
"Wilson and Jeff, you've got nothing to apologize for. The two of you were amazing in your response time."
"Drewford! If you don't tell them to let me go right now, I'll have you and your neanderthal goons arrested and sued."
Luke got in the posturing man's face. His eyes darkened and almost glowed. He sneered when the previous assailant quaked in fear of the hardened expression, and surprisingly lost control of his bladder, which caused the guards to giggle.
"Please, take this offensive person down to the chairs, and let him experience part of what he invested in, then call the police and have him arrested." He smiled devilishly and slightly wiggled his fingers in a gesture of goodbye while saying. "Enjoy the next hour of your ticklish situation, fucker. I'm sure you'll be laughing in no time, which I'll enjoy watching." His eyes sparkled with mischief, he giggled like a little boy, jumped up and down, lightly clapping his hands, and said, "Maybe I'll bring popcorn."
Gordon Hart was truly a despicable soul, and constantly searched for ways to get over on people he considered suckers and would do anything in his power to control those he saw as beneficial to his cause.
He was eight years old when he started using his parents' fetishes and weaknesses against them. Like himself, his dad was insanely ticklish, the patriarch had a fetish for being spanked while wearing a diaper, and wore pantyhose under his jeans and socks while working construction. His mother gambled, was having an affair with her husband's boss, pilfered funds from the church where she worked as a secretary, and where the family attended, and had a fetish for being fucked in a public setting while singing "Don't Rain On My Parade." Every time his parents punished him for misbehaving, his father would wake up, tied to his bed, shrieking and howling with laughter as sonic toothbrushes taped to various parts of his body, tickling the man's most ticklish spots, until he gave in and rescended the punishment, which usually happened after he pissed himself. His mother would receive a voice mail that said if she didn't agree to end the punishment, then the people she owed money to would be given videos of her fetish, his father would receive a tape of her affair, and the church would receive copies of pages from the ledger she used to keep track of her stolen loot.
His schemes and sense of self-entitlement worsened in his teen years. One principal thought he could stand up to Gordon, who at the time was sixteen. However, he soon learned otherwise. Two nights after declining to give in to the teen's order of giving him straight A's, which he hadn't earned, three hulking, masked thugs broke into his house. They quickly subdued the school leader, tied him to his bed, stripped him, covered him in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and strawberry jelly, then recorded him being spanked, tickled until he lost all sanity, having a pie smashed in his face, and fucked with a cuccumber as he was forced to repeatedly sing "We Will, We Will, Rock You," using his falceto voice. When the ordeal ended, one of the thugs told him that if he chose to deny Gordon Hart's request, the night's recording would be placed on the school's website and YouTube. Of course, the humiliated professional agreed to the teenager's terms.
The multi-purpose restraint chair and the computer to control it were still set up in the former secret lab. There were a few instances when John Worker didn't agree with one proposal or another, Gordon would strap the hunk into the char and tickle him into an agreement which would be beneficial to both of them. However, once the former owner and CEO was released, he'd get overpowered, then placed in the chair for some torturous revenge, and John was far more sadistic than he ever thought of being.
The struggling never stopped, but the guards easily kept their prisoner from getting away as they stripped the repulsive individual of his clothing.
"No... You Goddamned fuckers are not putting me in... Noooo," Gordon wildly yelled in desperation.
The guards laughed at the man's helplessness, at the same time, they inwardly cringed at the thought of being at anyone's mercy in that chair because both of them were indescribably ticklish. After getting the naked captive strapped in, Wilson set the timer for one hour, and Jeff turned the dial to level three.
The invention turned on, and the chamber glowed with a light blue color. A thick slab of metal with two holes cut into it rose up from the chair's footrest, the top flipped open, a pair of animatronic hands extended from the chair's base, they gripped Gordon's ankles, placing them in the padded bottom half of the holes, and the top electronically closed and locked. The squirming man squeaked and giggled like crazy when small loops of metallic flex rope, attached above the leg holes around, were slipped over his wiggling toes, the ropes retracted, and his phalanges were pulled taut. Mechanical hands came to life, coming from all around the chair, and hovered over the shaking captive. Four hands faced his soles, two of them held rectangular brushes with soft bristles, and the other pair held feathers. The six hands surrounding his upper body weren't holding anything, and they didn't need to because the wiggling fingers were enough to spread fear and dread throughout Gordon's nervous system.
Sweat glistened on the fifty-year-old man's forehead. Despite his rising anxiety, his prick was fully erect, leaking precum, and at its full length of five inches as he exclaimed, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
*****
Ignatious' building in Joy City...
The creepy rake-handle-like man's dark, beady eyes sparkled as Ignatious pressed a button and spoke into the microphone.
"Come, my pet androids, we have guests to make uncomfortable."
A door, cut into the wall of the main room, slid upward, and two androids, who looked like the man who invented them, approached the fallen officers. The AI creations flipped a switch, and two thick, heavy metal chains descended from the ceiling. Each of the chains had a rectangular, padded metal beam that was wide enough for a person's back, padded beams, equaling an extended arm span and long enough for a pair of legs were attached to the bottom and top sides of the slab, and attached to each of the more slender beams were padded metal wrist and ankle restraints. They quickly locked the restraints around the two pairs of wrists and ankles, then, with the flip of another switch, the men rose off the floor, and the chain was stopped when the captives reached the android's waist.
"Now, for the fun to begin," Ignatious said before releasing an evil cackle and rubbing his hands together.
When he turned off the main road and the narrow driveway's dirt and gravel crunched under the Ninja's front tire, memories began flooding Jason's thoughts. It had been three years since he'd laid eyes on the familiar surroundings. The green-haired driver managed to fight the urge to close his eyes as the inviting and comforting scent of pine was slowly inhaled and savored.
Remembrances of the freedom and happiness he felt back when he worked as a forest ranger for Thomas Growling Bear, who was head of Rainbow Falls Forest Rangers, a position he thought the Shaman probably still held, and of being trained by Phoenix before the redhead left for the city, brought a sincere smile to his face. Jason loved and respected his boss for many reasons. One reason was that the man was a great and patient teacher who paid attention to the rangers' strengths and weaknesses, and placed them in areas of the job where they felt comfortable and were most knowledgeable. Thomas understood and respected that he was not big on firearms, so he only had to use one at the firing range when the guidelines required a certain number of hours to continue being a ranger. Because he excelled at wilderness survival, was almost a horticulture expert, and could recite pertinent and sometimes lifesaving information about the various species of plant life, Growling Bear used him as a guide for nature hikes and had him patrol the areas with the heaviest amount of camper traffic. Another reason he loved the older man was that he became a much-needed and desired father figure to him, and Dusty and Spirit were like his brothers.
The motorcycle came to a stop outside of a rustic, two-bedroom, open-concept cabin with its front porch, in need of a little bit of TLC to bring it back to vitality. The rider shut down the engine and dismounted. He pulled some tools out of his backpack, removed the bike's front tire, just in case any possible trespassers might be tempted to go for an unauthorized spin, and carried the wheel with him into the cabin.
After a strong sneeze that made him double over, Jason muttered, "Okay! First item on the list, dusting." Never being one who liked wearing clothes unless absolutely necessary, the green-haired boy at heart, indulged the nudist in him, and shed all the fabric from his body, except for his socks, which he'd discard after getting the cabin cleaned up.
While going about his chores, the day he met Charles played vividly in his head. He stopped dusting, sat on the aging futon, facing the brick fireplace, closed his eyes, and drifted into the past.
Flashback
It was a warm, late summer day. Jason, Phoenix, and Thomas Growling Bear were in the ranger station's lobby, about to be interviewed by Charles Peterson, who at the time was a young, eager, and visibly nervous journalist, working on his debut article about the county's forest rangers for the "Rainbow Falls Dispatch."
"Umm... Th... Thank you for meeting with me, M... Mr Windsong. Your reputation as a very gifted and powerful Shaman is beyond reproach, and is so widely praised, it makes me think of the wonderful good you could do if you held a public office. I've heard a lot of wonderful things bout you from pretty much everyone I've spoken to. If you've got any enemies or people who don't love and respect you, I didn't encounter them or hear of their opinions."
The statement brought a very pink blush to the inexperienced reporter's cheeks, which Thomas, Jason, and Phoenix found adorable and endearing.
"Thank you for the kind words, young man. You speak with and convey genuine sincerity. I'm honored and humbled by not only your words but also their respectful delivery. Please, let me fix you some herbal tea specifically mixed for a calming effect," Thomas offered.
The Shaman spoke in a soft, fatherly tone of voice, which he and his two rangers noticed had an immediate positive effect on the emerald-eyed male.
"Thank you, Mr. Windsong."
"Please, no mister, I'm just Thomas or Growling Bear, and I prefer you use whichever name makes you most comfortable, my Son."
Behind the thin-rimmed glasses, Charles' eyes widened and sparkled as a shocked expression showed on his face.
Unable to help himself, Phoenix chuckled and muttered, "Don't ever play poker, cutie pie. You'd never be able to bluff on a hand."
The three rangers chuckled while the reporter blushed and tried to disappear.
After a moment, the green-eyed male composed himself enough to hesitantly ask, "Son."
"Let me explain, my adopted father's use of the title. The Creator is the father of all life on this planet. As a Shaman and the possessor of much knowledge, Growling Bear calls almost every young person he meets Son. However, that being said, there are times when the sentiment behind the words holds a deeper, more personal, and parental meaning when my Daddy feels a connection with the younger person he's talking with. Because of the connection we share, I can feel that a type of parental connection is being forged between you and Thomas."
Thomas and Jason snickered as the head of the forest rangers narrowed his eyes, looked at his red-haired adopted boy, and asked, "Daddy?"
"Careful, old man, I know where ya sleep," Phoenix playfully threatened.
The eldest of the quartet got up to go into his office and fix the tea for Charles. With a boyish grin, his hand moved quicker than the three pairs of younger eyes could see, and slapped the back of his red-haired boy's head.
"Aarrgh," Phoenix grunted as he leaned forward and rubbed the back of his head.
Thomas chuckled and asked, "Something wrong, Son?"
Phoenix glared at the Shaman and growled.
Jason's and Charles were leaning against each other, laughing like hyenas at the playful antics.
When the hysterical laughter died down, Jason and Phoenix each gently grasped one of the blonde's hands, and the trio jumped slightly because of the electric shock they felt when their fingers touched.
Charles hesitantly asked, "Umm, is it okay if I confide in you two?"
"Of course, sexy," Jason said.
The brunette instantly blushed because he'd used sexy without knowing or meaning to.
"I'm not a mind reader, but I can easily see the matching bulges in our pants, and we all felt the shock when we touched, and there's nothing we're rubbing against that would cause static electricity," Phoenix observed.
Charles stuttered, "I... I..." He paused and took a breath before continuing, "I'm gay." He pointed to Jason, saying, "And unless you, calling me sexy was a fluke," after another breath, he pointed to Phoenix, "and you mentioning the shared spark, and our bulges, was just an observation, I guess that means my gaydar's working perfectly and you're both gay,
Without hesitation or the need for approval, the redhead and brunette, in unison, responded with a firm, "We are."
Charles displayed what would soon become his famous blush. He took another deep breath, then admitted, "I'm attracted to both of you, but..." He stopped to gaze into Jason's eyes and went further. "It's Jason, right?" He waited till the other man nodded and finished his statement. "Jason, I'm feeling a stronger pull to you. Would it be okay with the two of you if we could have fun and get to know each other better? That's if neither of you is in a committed relationship. I'll never break up a happy couple."
"I think that is an awesome proposal," Jason stated with excitement and a sparkle in his brown eyes.
"I'm game, if you guys are," Phoenix said before licking his lips. "Aww, shucks!! There's something I'm dyin' to do, and I hope you guys don't haul off and smack the shit outta me."
Before anyone else could speak, the redhead moved so that he and Jason were on either side of their blonde boy. He placed his hand on the back of Charles' head, pulled him closer, and as both of them closed their eyes, their lips connected for a soft and loving kiss.
Thomas sat at his desk, watching the boys through the open door of his office with a bright smile. He smiled in approval of the young men exploring and revealing their true selves to each other, then, after a slight nod of his head, the door magically and silently closed.
Jason's eyes glazed over seeing the two guys liplocked, he felt his dick plump even more, and noticed the other two cocks were hardening more as well.
The slightly more muscular guy out of the trio ended the kiss, then leaned across the reporter and shared one with Jason that was a twin to the first he gave.
This made the blonde horny as hell, and he lovingly kissed Jason's cheek, then Phoenix's cheek, before lightly stroking their backs. A grin formed, and he giggled when the other guys squirmed and released their boyish giggles. He smirked, then tickled the brunette's right hip and his other companion's left hip.
"You boys aren't ticklish, are you?"
Jason and Phoenix writhed and jumped in the chairs while hysterically laughing and squealing, trying to dislodge their playful tickle assailant's fingers from their sensitive spots.
"Oh, it's on, blondie," the giggling men said.
Charles yelped as the strong guys pulled him over and down, placed him across their laps, and an arm belonging to each of them kept him from escaping.
Phoenix reasoned, "Seein' as how you learned about and put our ticklishness to use, it seems only fair that we discover any ticklishness of yours."
Charles squirmed and bucked, trying to get free, and when the five fingers from each of his captors tickled him, his laughter bounced around the station's lobby. His legs writhed and thrashed, and his head flew back and forth, then jerked side to side. "No... Not my stomach, pits, and sides at the same time," he hollered between the boisterous laughs.
Jason and Phoenix loved the reaction they got from the tickle attack and shared a kiss over their helpless, hysterically laughing victim.
"Aww, he's so cute with the string of drool coming from the side of his mouth," Jason teased.
"Coochie, Coochie, Chuckster," Phoenix said, giggling.
"Nooooo... The coochie taunt makes it tickle more," Charles exclaimed while still helplessly laughing.
After a total of five minutes, the tickling duo released their mate, and they helped him into the public bathroom so he could clean up and continue the interview when Thomas returned with the tea.
While in the bathroom, the redhead was going crazy because of his aching cock's need to release its seed, and after looking at the other guys as they continuously fidgeted with and repositioned themselves, he knew the brown and blonde-haired duo were in the same fix. He also figured a little sexual release might help Charles let go of the tension and relax his nerves.
"Guys, I suggest we take a few minutes to really get ourselves together."
Jason and Charles glanced at one another, then at Phoenix. Their eyes never left the ginger as he pulled his boots off, pulled his pants and underwear down, and off of his muscular legs, and stood with his hardened cock proudly displayed. Neither one had an objection to or tried to stop it when Jason's boots, pants, and underwear were removed, and then Charles' shoes and clothes were tossed on the pile in the corner by the door. Now, there were three healthy, horny specimens of manhood, standing in their socks, with their lengthy, steel rod-like penises pointing to the wall and not the floor.
Phoenix lightly blushed and said, "Charles, in the spirit of full disclosure, Jason and I have played around together, but we've never felt the need or desire to be in a committed relationship." He paused, glanced at the brunette, who was smiling and nodding. Out of nervousness, his right hand lightly rubbed the back of his head as he sheepishly asked, "So, are y'all okay with me gettin' you both off?"
"Only if we can return the favor," Charles said, with Jason nodding in agreement.
The slimmer pair out of the trio leaned against the wall, they gasped, released soft, airy, boyish giggles, and squirmed when their ballsacks were licked by the warm tongue. When the talented redhead began gently sucking each of the four balls one after another into his mouth and running his tongue around them, Jason and Charles rose up on their sock-clad toes, squealing and writhing as they leaned into each other's bodies, and in pure ecstasy, whimpered like newborn pups. Precum leaked from both cockheads and fell on Phoenix's face. Two sets of green eyes and one set of brown irises glazed over once the shaft sucking began. Breathy moans, grunts, and the scent of sweat mixed with hormones filled the bathroom. While he was giving them a blowjob, the standing men's hands worked together, jerking the third cock.
"Fuck! No wonder you want to go into the porn business, Nix. You're a fuckin' master at this," Jason stated through a long moan.
"I'll totally support your career and buy your movies," Charles lustily vowed.
Phoenix took a second and said, "Kiss while I finish you guys, you're both about to bust."
Not wanting to spoil the mood, Jason and Charles obeyed. It wasn't long before they swallowed each other's grunt, when they orgasmed, and their cum was devoured by the hungry man licking their dicks. They pulled Phoenix to his feet and returned the gifted blow job. The licking and sucking duo didn't have to wait long because seconds after their mouths and tongues touched the male's manhood, it exploded, and the warm, creamy seed was shared between them. While recovering, a passionate, three-way kiss and cuddles were shared. That's how Jason and Phoenix learned what an affectionate cuddle monster their adorable blonde boy was, and how much he craved them.
End Of Flashback
Jason's eyes opened, and he gasped when he felt a wet stickiness at his crotch. 'Damn! That memory's still one of the hottest and best experiences of my younger life. I love you, Charles, Phoenix. Too bad Luke wasn't in our lives back then, I love him just as much. Maybe a little later, I'll stop by the ranger station and see if Papa Growling Bear's there. I miss him and my brothers,' he thought.
*****
The Ranger Station in Rainbow Falls...
Thomas was at his computer, checking on the latest weather forecast and radar images, when his biological sons burst into the office. He looked up at the excited pair and chuckled before saying,
"Something to report, boys?"
"He's back, Great Father," Dusty Windsong almost hollered.
The elder of the two siblings was bouncing on the balls and heels of his feet, which resulted in his dad's amused expression.
"Son, the bathroom's vacant if you have to pee so bad that you're doing the peepee dance."
The twenty-year-old Blackfoot male glared and scowled at his laughing brother and father, but was so happy, he couldn't hold back the smile and giggles.
"I take it you've discovered your honorary brother, Jason, has returned home?'
The boys gasped, although they didn't know why the statement shocked them, because the Creator shared information with Growling Bear through received visions, the Shaman knew about certain things before the events happened.
Nineteen-year-old Spirit Windsong was the next to speak.
"We believe it's him, Dad. Although we weren't entirely sure because his appearance is different. The man we observed at the cabin had..."
"Green skin and hair, and carries the scent of your other honorary brother, Charles, and another being you haven't met as of yet, who's half-fairy?"
Thomas smirked, and because of the expression on Spirit's face, his giggles blended with his eldest son's giggling.
"You take all the fun out of giving you news, Dad," Spirit childishly whined and then pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yes, my children, it was Jason you saw, and unless I am mistaken, we will see him before the sun sets."
The Windsong men shared a loving hug and cheek kisses. When they separated, a brilliant white and blue light surrounded the boys, and they stood with their legs and arms spread apart. Dusty transformed into a majestic Bald Eagle, and Spirit transformed into a shimmering pure white wolf with glowing ice blue eyes. Thomas opened a window facing the forest as the eagle released an almost ear-piercing cry, and the wolf raised its head to let loose an earth-shaking howl. The magical pair left through the window and disappeared into the sky and trees.
Growling Bear shook his head, twisted and wiggled his index fingers in his ears, and muttered, "I've told them a thousand times not to be so loud with their animal sounds indoors. I swear, I'll be deaf before I reach my two-hundredth birthday, in a hundred years."
*****
Worker Inc. in Joy City
The meeting came to a close, and everyone wore smiles. They complimented the new CEO and shook his hand as they left the boardroom. All except for fifty-year-old Gordon Hart, who stayed behind until he and Luke were the only ones present.
The salt-and-pepper-haired man was among the first to invest in Worker Inc. He approached the new CEO, looking at him with narrowed eyes, and despite being shorter and less muscular than the younger brunette, he attempted to force his views on the other man. In a forceful, gruff voice, he almost bellowed, "Luke, I've got major concerns with you wanting to remain a journalist while holding the company's CEO position."
Luke's eyes darkened, he could feel the heat rising in his body, and somehow managed to keep his rage in check, at least for the moment.
"What exactly are your concerns, Gordon?"
A bright redness colored the spluttering male's face. He repeatedly jabbed his index finger into the shirt-clad chest and fumed, "I have never been spoken to with such disrespect. Be warned, I'm not above putting your punk ass in your place. Young man, you may be the CEO, but you'll refer to me with the respect and honor I'm due by calling me Mr. Hart."
Had the man possessed an iota of common sense, equal in weight to a grain of salt, he would have noticed the rising dark mood and felt the increasingly frosty chills in the room, and changed his tone of voice and rhetoric. However, the warning signs and flashing red lights signaling danger were lost on the blustering fool.
"You're lucky I didn't call you a criminal and all-around disgustingly poor excuse for a person, you pious windbag. I have indisputable evidence of your fraudulent schemes, the bribes you've pulled off, the funds you've embezzled from this company, and money and votes you blackmailed from other investors. I'm warning you, everything in this room is recorded and stored on multiple hard drives. If you try fucking with me, you'll find yourself on the wrong side of a jail cell and embroiled in an expensive lawsuit. As of right now, I'm willing to accept your resignation as an investor and let you leave MY company's building with your dignity intact."
The man's rage-filled brown eyes widened, and Luke chuckled because he could swear there was steam coming from his antagonist's ears.
"You little fuckin' bastard. You don't have the clout or the ability to force me to resign, and don't get me started on what proof you have, or the lack thereof, to back your claims."
Luke was about to respond, but an unseen fist plowed into his gut, with such force that he grunted, doubled over, and stumbled backwards into a chair.
Not wanting to let the fallen man get to his feet, Gordon rushed his intended victim.
Thinking fast, the CEO's legs lashed out, and the soles of his shoes rammed into the advancing guy's stomach.
The blow brought tears to the older man's eyes and winded him. He doubled over, clutched his stomach, and fell to his knees, squirming and groaning in pain.
"You just made a very costly and big mistake, jackass," Luke menacingly growled.
The door flew open, and two security guards walked into the room. One of them was Jeff Booker. The forty-five-year-old, six-foot-three, brown-eyed, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound African-American was a linebacker for his high school and college football teams and had kept his muscular tone through the years. The other guard was Wilson Moore. The six-foot-tall, one-hundred-and-eighty-five-pound redhead had gray eyes and a thick mustache.
"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Drewford," Jeff said.
"The elevator took forever, Wilson added while he roughly pulled Gordon to his feet and kept an unbreakable iron grip on the struggling, squirming man's arm.
"Wilson and Jeff, you've got nothing to apologize for. The two of you were amazing in your response time."
"Drewford! If you don't tell them to let me go right now, I'll have you and your neanderthal goons arrested and sued."
Luke got in the posturing man's face. His eyes darkened and almost glowed. He sneered when the previous assailant quaked in fear of the hardened expression, and surprisingly lost control of his bladder, which caused the guards to giggle.
"Please, take this offensive person down to the chairs, and let him experience part of what he invested in, then call the police and have him arrested." He smiled devilishly and slightly wiggled his fingers in a gesture of goodbye while saying. "Enjoy the next hour of your ticklish situation, fucker. I'm sure you'll be laughing in no time, which I'll enjoy watching." His eyes sparkled with mischief, he giggled like a little boy, jumped up and down, lightly clapping his hands, and said, "Maybe I'll bring popcorn."
Gordon Hart was truly a despicable soul, and constantly searched for ways to get over on people he considered suckers and would do anything in his power to control those he saw as beneficial to his cause.
He was eight years old when he started using his parents' fetishes and weaknesses against them. Like himself, his dad was insanely ticklish, the patriarch had a fetish for being spanked while wearing a diaper, and wore pantyhose under his jeans and socks while working construction. His mother gambled, was having an affair with her husband's boss, pilfered funds from the church where she worked as a secretary, and where the family attended, and had a fetish for being fucked in a public setting while singing "Don't Rain On My Parade." Every time his parents punished him for misbehaving, his father would wake up, tied to his bed, shrieking and howling with laughter as sonic toothbrushes taped to various parts of his body, tickling the man's most ticklish spots, until he gave in and rescended the punishment, which usually happened after he pissed himself. His mother would receive a voice mail that said if she didn't agree to end the punishment, then the people she owed money to would be given videos of her fetish, his father would receive a tape of her affair, and the church would receive copies of pages from the ledger she used to keep track of her stolen loot.
His schemes and sense of self-entitlement worsened in his teen years. One principal thought he could stand up to Gordon, who at the time was sixteen. However, he soon learned otherwise. Two nights after declining to give in to the teen's order of giving him straight A's, which he hadn't earned, three hulking, masked thugs broke into his house. They quickly subdued the school leader, tied him to his bed, stripped him, covered him in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and strawberry jelly, then recorded him being spanked, tickled until he lost all sanity, having a pie smashed in his face, and fucked with a cuccumber as he was forced to repeatedly sing "We Will, We Will, Rock You," using his falceto voice. When the ordeal ended, one of the thugs told him that if he chose to deny Gordon Hart's request, the night's recording would be placed on the school's website and YouTube. Of course, the humiliated professional agreed to the teenager's terms.
The multi-purpose restraint chair and the computer to control it were still set up in the former secret lab. There were a few instances when John Worker didn't agree with one proposal or another, Gordon would strap the hunk into the char and tickle him into an agreement which would be beneficial to both of them. However, once the former owner and CEO was released, he'd get overpowered, then placed in the chair for some torturous revenge, and John was far more sadistic than he ever thought of being.
The struggling never stopped, but the guards easily kept their prisoner from getting away as they stripped the repulsive individual of his clothing.
"No... You Goddamned fuckers are not putting me in... Noooo," Gordon wildly yelled in desperation.
The guards laughed at the man's helplessness, at the same time, they inwardly cringed at the thought of being at anyone's mercy in that chair because both of them were indescribably ticklish. After getting the naked captive strapped in, Wilson set the timer for one hour, and Jeff turned the dial to level three.
The invention turned on, and the chamber glowed with a light blue color. A thick slab of metal with two holes cut into it rose up from the chair's footrest, the top flipped open, a pair of animatronic hands extended from the chair's base, they gripped Gordon's ankles, placing them in the padded bottom half of the holes, and the top electronically closed and locked. The squirming man squeaked and giggled like crazy when small loops of metallic flex rope, attached above the leg holes around, were slipped over his wiggling toes, the ropes retracted, and his phalanges were pulled taut. Mechanical hands came to life, coming from all around the chair, and hovered over the shaking captive. Four hands faced his soles, two of them held rectangular brushes with soft bristles, and the other pair held feathers. The six hands surrounding his upper body weren't holding anything, and they didn't need to because the wiggling fingers were enough to spread fear and dread throughout Gordon's nervous system.
Sweat glistened on the fifty-year-old man's forehead. Despite his rising anxiety, his prick was fully erect, leaking precum, and at its full length of five inches as he exclaimed, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
*****
Ignatious' building in Joy City...
The creepy rake-handle-like man's dark, beady eyes sparkled as Ignatious pressed a button and spoke into the microphone.
"Come, my pet androids, we have guests to make uncomfortable."
A door, cut into the wall of the main room, slid upward, and two androids, who looked like the man who invented them, approached the fallen officers. The AI creations flipped a switch, and two thick, heavy metal chains descended from the ceiling. Each of the chains had a rectangular, padded metal beam that was wide enough for a person's back, padded beams, equaling an extended arm span and long enough for a pair of legs were attached to the bottom and top sides of the slab, and attached to each of the more slender beams were padded metal wrist and ankle restraints. They quickly locked the restraints around the two pairs of wrists and ankles, then, with the flip of another switch, the men rose off the floor, and the chain was stopped when the captives reached the android's waist.
"Now, for the fun to begin," Ignatious said before releasing an evil cackle and rubbing his hands together.
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