Ticklishboy30
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2010
- Messages
- 237
- Points
- 18
The Park In Joy City...
Kid Bondage parked his Harley next to Charles' Genesis. He locked the bike and placed both hands on the butts of his guns to double-check they were tucked safely in their holsters. He pulled the lasso from the side saddle bag, attached it to the hook sewn to the outside of the right side holster, and started walking towards the pavilion for his interview with the sexiest and his personal favorite reporter.
When the hero got closer to his destination, he saw Rodger Sykes, the blonde journalist's go-to cameraman, and Charles talking as Sykes recorded footage of random joggers, kids playing frisbee, or tossing a football or baseball, and couples who were sitting on blankets or in the grass enjoying their time in the sunshine, and suddenly a fun and mischievous idea popped into his head, which made him giggle and jump up and down joyfully.
"Yeah, I think the viewers are gonna love seeing all the activity going on here before focusing on the interview," Charles said, in agreement with his colleague's suggestion of using the recorded footage. Without warning, a shimmering green lasso ensnared him.
Rodger had to act fast and turned the camera so he could catch what happened next.
With a girlishly high-pitched yelping squeal, the reporter was yanked backwards, falling on his butt. Before he could create a thought or execute an action, his body was lifted off the cement slab under his feet. Suspended and helpless, he swayed back and forth, like a sexy, cute piñata.
The twenty-three-year-old lone brunette was so thankful that the camera was on a tripod because he was on the table's bench reclined against the tabletop, wheezing from the uncontrollable boisterous laughter because of the wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression on his friend's face.
"Cut! Cut!" Charles cried out.
"Are you crazy, Charlie? The station and our viewers are gonna love this. It's a wealth of cuteness," Rodger said, once his laughter died down.
"Aww, c'mon, stud. Where's your sense of humor?"
Rodger turned the camera and caught the grinning redheaded hero, nonchalantly leaving the shadows that concealed his presence.
Kid waved at the camera. "Howdy, Rodger, and y'all at home," he said.
"Kid, if you don't get me down."
The playful hero giggled, slapped his friend's plump asscheeks, which made the captive blush and let loose an adorable squeal.
"I'm sooo gonna get you back, Country boy."
"Hey, y'all wanna see somethin' fun?"
Charles gasped cause he knew what mischief-filled thoughts were going through his buddy's mind.
"No... No... They don't wanna see any..."
The next sound was uninhibited boyish laughter coming from the trapped man's mouth, because his sock-clad soles were being tickled. His eyes squeezed shut, and he uselessly tried to kick his legs free from the arm wrapped around his ankles.
"C'mon, Kid, don't tickle my toes," the reporter squealed while giggling like a little boy. "Crap! I'll never live this down."
"Coochie, coochie, Chuckster," Kid teased while giggling.
"This is getting lost on the cutting room floor."
"Sorry, Charlie, it's totally gonna be included in the interview. Leitha just texted me, saying if this gets cut, we'll both become eunuchs," Rodger said, laughing.
Kid stopped tickling and released his friend.
"Just how did she already know about this?"
The brunette devilishly grinned and said, "I may have recorded that scene with my phone, and it just might have been sent to the boss lady, possibly Luke, and allegedly a few others, but I'll never reveal the recipients."
"You're both soooo dead," Charles stated while he and his two friends laughed and hugged. "Alright, you goofs, let's get this underway."
Once the hero and reporter were in place for the best lighting, Rodger gave a thumbs-up gesture and pointed at them.
"Well, I'm here with the amazing Kid Bondage, who, as our viewing audience has just witnessed, is one of the most playful heroes protecting Joy City. Thanks for joining us today, Kid."
There was a pause as the pair shared a brotherly hug and kissed each other on the cheek.
"I'm happy to be here, Charles, but let's get real for a moment. Our relationship goes way beyond just knowing each other professionally. I think it's safe to say that we're also close friends and probably honorary brothers."
"You're so right, we're close friends and honorary brothers."
"Which is why I'm secure in the knowledge that there's no hard feelings for the playful way this interview started."
Charles smirked and narrowed his eyes.
"Of course, Country Kid, there's no hard feelings, but don't think you've escaped retaliation."
Kid's eyes widened as he gasped and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
"I sometimes forget that you can be an evil little blonde boy."
As the interview progressed, Charles got a fun and nasty idea.
"By now, everyone's learned of your successes, but what I think our viewers would love hearing about is Kid Bondage's very first outing, which I happen to know didn't go exactly as you planned."
Rodger and Charles giggled at the shocked, wide-eyed expression on the seasoned hero's face.
"Oh, you are soooo evil, Mr. Peterson."
"Well, I do remember mentioning retaliation, Red."
"I'm soooo getting you back for having to reveal my first major blunder."
Kid closed his eyes, deeply inhaled, and slowly exhaled before he started his tale. "This happened about five years ago. It was before I moved to Joy City, and at the time, I only had my magic lasso and martial arts training..."
Flashback
The sun shone brightly in the sky as Phoenix, dressed as his newly created hero persona, Kid Bondage, rode his motorcycle along the highway between Joy City and Rainbow Falls. For the past hour, he'd been patrolling the road, looking for the bikers he'd heard about who were terrorizing and robbing motorists as they drove through their self-proclaimed territory. After a couple of hours going back and forth between the city and county, he found them.
There was a mix of four bulked-up, bare-chested, fearsome Caucasian, Latino, and Hispanic men, whose height varied from six feet to six feet four inches, all their bodies were solid walls of bulging muscles., two of the guys were skinheads, one had a tall black mohawk with red tips, the last one had a long, dirty blonde braided ponytail that reached midway down his back, and all of them had skulls and crossbones painted on their faces.
The men resembled sharks on a frenzy. They circled a dark red Chevrolet Silverado, intent on causing as much destruction as possible by hitting, shooting, and rocking the pickup. One biker was armed with two chains, one had a bat in each hand, another shot bullets through the windows and windshields, and the guy with the mohawk cut into the truck's bed with a saw designed to slice through metal. The quaking male driver was crouched down in his seat, trying to be invisible as he helplessly watched the violence continue. They wore black jeans, black motorcycle boots, bandanas, and leather wrist cuffs.
Kid fought his hesitance and gulped as he pulled off the road. For a moment, he thought maybe this wasn't such a great idea because all of those guys outweighed him by probably close to one hundred pounds, and their arms were bigger than his legs. He tried to call the state police, but unfortunately, the area was a dead zone for cell phones, which made it the perfect spot to ambush someone. The would-be hero swallowed his fear, stashed his bike in the overgrown bushes and brush, and hoped it wouldn't be noticed.
Thinking there were only the four of them, as if four to one wasn't bad enough, he grabbed his lasso, crept through the trees lining the deserted road, intending on using the element of surprise to his advantage and lessen their numbers.
However, a fifth man was present, shrouded in the shadows of the forest. This guy led the gang, and at six feet six inches, two hundred ninety pounds of nothing but rock-like muscle, he was a massive, hulking man, with shaved black hair, and easily the biggest and most muscular of the group of outlaws. He enjoyed and approved of the display of aggression as he watched the carnage unfold.
When he saw the lone, cowboy hat wearing, red-haired biker, clad in his open black leather vest, black jeans, and black motorcycle boots creeping closer to the scene, his almost black, menacing, beady eyes narrowed, and released a low, gravelly, gut rumbling growl, but decided to hold off on alerting his guys to the new arrival's presence, because he wanted to see what threat, if any this man was to his gang and their criminal endeavors.
The rookie hero was definitely facing a heroic deed that was going to be like pushing a boulder up the side of a mountain because not only did he not have a lot of experience using the lasso, but he had no backup. His effort could have started out great, but alas, fate didn't have that in store for the young good guy.
The redhead climbed one of the trees, stood on a branch, and hollered, "Hey, that's not a nice thing to do to someone else's property."
The bikers stopped, stepped away from the truck, turned in the direction of the speaker, and looked up.
The good thing that came from the distraction was the driver quickly sat up, started the engine, then mashed the gas pedal to the truck's floor, and with squealing tires, and a cloud of smoke from the exhaust pipe, sped away, hoping he'd find a police station close by so that the man who just saved him could be helped before getting hurt or worse, killed.
The leader's fists clenched and unclenched, and his teeth ground together as rage began to rise in him because their target escaped.
Looping one end of the lasso around a higher branch, the young leather-clad man yelled, "Yee-Haw," as he swung into the air like Tarzan on a vine. Unfortunately, the boot's laces came untied during the swing, so the footwear was flung from the feet they protected, soared in between the heads of two bikers, and landed somewhere in a patch of thick bushes. Fortunately, each of his soles plowed into the guts of two men, causing them to double over and fall on their asses.
"Well, that's something I'm never revealing to anyone unless it's tortured out of me," the budding hero uttered under his breath while swinging back and forth.
Another unfortunate occurrence was that the lasso came loose, and he landed on his butt in a patch of prickly bushes.
"OUCH!!! Fuckin' hell."
The young man jumped up and down, yelping like a puppy, while trying to pull tiny needles from his ass.
"Man, this ain't goin' the way I planned."
"Aww, did the little boy get hurt trying to do his own stunts?"
"I ain't no little boy, you Incredible Hulk wannabe." Kid growled and threw a punch that landed in the taunter's gut. "Oww! What the fuck are your abs made of, freakin' steel?" he hollered in pain because it felt like he'd just hit concrete.
Meanwhile, the other guy just grunted, staggered a little, and ended up looking even meaner and nastier than before. He grabbed the younger assailant's arm, throwing the smaller man's body over his shoulder and into the air.
"Fuck! Fuck! Yeow! This must be what a ragdoll feels like. I'm not a fan," Kid squealed girlishly as he became airborne. "Oof!" He grunted and landed flat on his back and groaned. "That's gonna be a nasty bruise. Bruise hell, I may never walk again by the time this is all over with. When the man bent over him, he threw a right cross that landed squarely in the middle guy's jawbone. "Holy Fuck! Your jaw's as hard as rock. What the hell did your mama feed ya?" he exclaimed while gingerly rubbing his throbbing hand.
"Thanks for the massage, boy."
"Grrr, ya know, it'd be a particularly nice gesture on your part, and just plain 'ole good southern manners if you'd at least act like I've done some damage to ya, apeman," Kid said as he got to his feet. "Y'all are totally killin' the badass image I'm tryin' to get spread around these here parts." He glared at the bearded man facing him. "Aww shit, I know that this ain't a gentlemanly thing to do, but ain't none of y'all gentlemen," he declared.
He placed his hands on the biker's broad shoulders and used all the strength in his leg to knee him in his crotch.
The hulk's eyes bulged, he doubled over, fell to the ground, and threw up before writhing and groaning in absolute agony.
"Sorry for doin' that, but I couldn't get ya down any other way, and I'm the one who's outnumbered."
Seeing the other three surrounding him, the redhead nervously laughed.
"Aww shit! This ain't gonna be easy."
One of the remaining trio lunged at the smaller ginger. He jumped into the air and did a roundhouse kick. Thankfully, when his sock-clad sole connected with the man's jaw, there was enough force to knock his assailant to the ground, temporarily stunning him. Kid ducked a punch from the guy with the mohawk and retaliated with a head butt that had both parties stumbling and seeing stars.
The gunman raised his arms and shot the two Glock Nines. Luckily, his aim was way off, and the bullets flew over the do-gooder's head. His legs were swept out from under him, and the sock-clad foot stomped on his family jewels, making him scream like he'd never screamed before, before passing out from the overwhelming pain.
The redhead jumped on the back of the guy with the mohawk. The pair struggled and grunted, with one trying to dislodge his passenger and the other trying not to get thrown.
"Yee-Haw! Ride 'em Kid Bondage," Kid shouted like he was in a rodeo.
"Get off 'a' me, ya freakin' cowboy. Shit! Ouch! Don't be pullin' my hair, you're fighting like a bitch."
"Hey, when you're at a disadvantage, ya gotta resort to anything, sexy."
Just as the tan-skinned Latino biker raised his muscular arms and bent them backward, intent on dislodging the boy, he suddenly felt an incredibly ticklish sensation coming from his open pit hollows. "Shit! Fuckin' hell, ya damn freak. Ticklin'? Really?" he hollered. Instantly, the bull-like male fell face down to the ground, shrieking and hysterically laughing. When the tickle assault targeted his ribs and sides, his vocal reaction got louder and more boisterous as he screeched, "Fuckin' stop the damn tickling." The biker writhed, thrashed, and bucked madly as his boot-clad feet kicked and jeans-clad legs slid along the paved road.
"Wow! I never guessed any of y'all would be ticklish," Kid said with a teasing tone of voice. "Damn, son, you're better than riding a buckin' bronco. Yee-haw!."
The leader was not pleased with his gang's performance and decided to intervene. Since the younger male hadn't discovered he was there, the biker used that to his advantage. Not making a sound, he crept up behind the tickle attacker.
*****
The Forest Ranger Station...
Thomas sat in his office doing paperwork. Suddenly, his eyes glowed, and he went into a trance. When he came out of it, his brown irises flashed and darkened. "They shall not kill my son," he growled. The Shaman slipped his arms through the leather loops sewn into the lining of his bearskin cape and flipped up the bearhead cowl to cover his head.
The Silverado skidded to a stop in front of the ranger's building, and the vehicle was still rocking when he jumped out and ran inside. He stopped at the desk behind which were standing two young men, who looked like brothers in their late teens, and hysterically hollered. "Help! I need help, somebody."
The Windsong boys sprang into action. Dusty grabbed a cold bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to the new arrival as his brother gently led the distraught man to the sitting area.
"Obviously, you've just suffered something traumatic," Spirit softly stated with his hand resting lightly on the older brunette's quaking shoulder.
Dusty asked, "Can you please take a few slow sips of water, then take a moment to compose yourself before telling us how we might help you?"
Before anyone could speak, the office door flew open, causing the boys and the man to jump and yelp.
"Forgive my abruptness. The Creator sent me a vision of Phoenix, in trouble. I must go to him." Thomas paused, then gazed into the eyes of the stranger, and said, "Fear not, sir. The red-haired boy who came to your aid is my adopted son and is cherished by us and the Creator. Boys, your brother will suffer some great pain, but will survive and learn from this experience. Take care of this traveller, my sons. I love you both."
One of the three males was shocked and speechless. The younger pair shook their heads and giggled as their father growled and literally disappeared before their eyes.
"Wh... What... The H...Hell?"
"We will explain some of what you just witnessed, sir. By the way, I'm Spirit Windsong." He pointed to his brother, saying, "This is my brother, Dusty, and the man who just blew your mind was our father. Shaman, Thomas Growling Bear Windsong."
"I... I've heard of him and your family, but never paid much attention to much, other than the good things you people do for the county and community."
With a knowing half-grin, Dusty asked, "Sir, would you care for something a bit stronger than water while we chat?"
"I wouldn't mind a shot of bourbon, if you've got it."
Spirit nodded, then got up and went into the office. While pouring the shot, he telepathically told his father that they offered some alcohol to the man to calm his nerves while they talked. He giggled when his dad said they made a good choice, and that he knew how much was in the bottle, just in case they decided to sneak a shot between them.
*****
The Deserted Stretch Of Road...
"Ya ready to give up, big guy? I'm not afraid to pull your boots off and go for them big 'old dawgs 'a' yours."
Kid's air was suddenly cut off by something constricting around his neck, and he was yanked backward, then forced into an upright sitting position, and pinned against a fleshy, solid wall.
"You've just come to the end of your heroics, little boy," the leader growled.
Shivers traveled up and down the trapped ginger's spine, and his eyes reflected the fear overtaking him. Desperately, his fingernails scratched at, and his hands gripped and tried to pull the light-tan muscular arm down that was threatening to squeeze his head off. His skin was turning blue, the lack of oxygen made Kid's head swim, and his lungs burned as they tried to suck as much of the life-sustaining element as possible. Wheezing and weak coughs came from the helpless man as his strength was quickly leaving him.
"I already feel the life leaving you, boy. However, after you had your fun with my guys, I'm in a generous mood and gonna let you live so they can have some fun with you, while I keep you helpless."
Kid wasn't sure which was scarier, the thought of losing his life, or the reprieve he'd been given. With no warning, the hold on his neck was released. A flood of air flowed into his lungs, causing him to lurch forward, gasping and coughing so hard that he gagged and coughed up a little vomit.
He yelped when the former captor lifted him off the ground by the collar of his leather vest, his legs futilely kicked in the air as he was carried one-handed over to a road sign, and hung on it by the back of his vest, like a wall decoration.
"Mister, this ain't helpin' my self-esteem."
The leader chuckled and said, "Maybe you'll think twice before gettin' involved in something without any backup... That's if you live to see tomorrow." He laughed maniacally when he saw the younger male's Adam's apple move up and down when he gulped.
His arms were pulled behind the sign where his wrists were tied together, and his ankles were tied to the wooden post. "This has got to be the most humiliatin' thing I've experienced today and possibly ever," he softly muttered.
"Alright, boys, have at 'em, the leader said to the two bikers who weren't still writhing in pain.
"Ya mentioned something about ticklin' my feet, Kiddo," Mohawk guy said, sneering. "Let's see if your tootsies are ticklish."
"Dang it, Bud... Don't call 'em tootsies."
The teasingly taunting nickname caused the helpless redhead to squirm and blush. That was nothing compared to the embarrassment he felt when his socks were slipped off his feet.
"Aww crap. C'mon, it ain't cool to take a guy's socks."
The soft, pale soles wrinkled and unwrinkled when the ginger's plump toes flexed and curled. Seconds after the man's wiggling fingertips made contact with the fleshy sole, peels of high-pitched squeals and giggles echoed through the trees.
"Please... Not my bare feet... I'm soooo ticklish."
The biker chuckled, his eyes darkened, and his six-inch cock threatened to break through the zipper of his jeans as his fingertips lightly stroked back and forth along his captive's soles.
"Coochie, coochie."
"Damn it... Not the fuckin' coochies... It always makes the ticklin' worse."
"That's an adorable giggle ya got there, little boy."
The switch from fingertips to fingernails had the hero howling and screaming with unbridled laughter. Sweat dripped from his pores and bangs, stinging his eyes until he squeezed them shut, his body bucked against the unforgiving restraints, his head flew back and forth, and side to side. Tears streaked down his face and mixed with the drool and snot coating his blushing cheeks. Suddenly, the tickling stopped. "Thank you!" he said. Kid still giggled from the residual ticklish and tingling sensations on his soles and toes as he panted and tried to recover.
The hollows of his pits burned like nothing he had experienced before because of the bottom edge of the vest's armholes digging into the sensitive, pale, hairless flesh. However, that was nothing compared to the searing pain he felt when the other biker attached a set of metal clamps connected by a good-sized chain to his pink, erect nipples. Even though his eyes bulged, and he screamed like a banshee, his dick was achingly hard, and precum pooled in his black and gold tiger-striped bikini briefs. The relentless pummeling blows his abs and stomach received from the mohawk sporting muscle man made him gag and vomit. Surprisingly, through all this abuse, his cock never shrank, and it visibly pulsed against the jeans as the semen got closer to the slit.
"Fuck! You're just a little freak, aren't ya pussy boy?"
The leader cut the rope restraining their toy's wrists and ankles, then lowered the trembling, bruised body to the ground. He sneered and punched the young man's face, causing a dark red mark to form on the cheek, and the lips to split and bleed.
Kid's eyes were almost swollen shut, his head turned to the side, and with every body-spasming cough, he groaned in agony.
"We need to shut this brat up," the leader said.
Kid's discarded pair of socks was balled up, stuffed into his mouth, and secured by a roll of silver duct tape being wound around his head, despite his feeble attempts to not let it happen. He was rolled onto his stomach, and to his shock and horror, the jeans and underwear were ripped from his body. In a last act of desperation, he fought with everything he had left, but was easily overpowered. Tears streamed down his face as he felt the leader's large cockhead press against his ass, and he silently prayed for someone or something to intervene and rescue him.
By now, the two fallen bikers had recovered; they stood with the other gang members and waited for their turn with the defeated redhead. Suddenly, the four henchmen were flung into the air by an unseen force. Each one slammed into a strong, established, and aged oak tree. They were instantly knocked out, their backs were scraped and bloodied as they slid down the bark, and landed in unmoving heaps of broken skin and broken bones.
"You did not heed my warning when you and your gang entered my territory. Now you shall face the consequences of your decisions, and for trying to rape my son," Thomas barked.
The leader lept to his feet, spun around, and glared at the slightly shorter, dark-haired man. "Back off, Savage, or I'll put you in the same position as your weakling son."
From somewhere inside, Kid found the strength to make a move to help his savior. He rolled onto his back and fought through every ounce of burning pain as he lifted and bent his legs. Then, with a roar, born of pain, anger, and sheer will, he kicked the biker in the back, sending him to his knees. After the draining physical exertion, he panted and groaned with his head on the ground as he tried to stay conscious.
"This is for the people you've harmed."
The Shaman pulled his arm back and backhanded the fallen leader so hard that he toppled backwards, landing on his back. He turned and used his powers to put his honorary son into a deep, rejuvenating sleep so that he wouldn't be traumatized by what was about to occur.
The former outlaw was writhing in pain from the burning in his cheek.
"This is for trying to rape my boy."
Thomas growled and transformed into his bear form.
The leader's jeans were suddenly wet at the crotch, and he lost control of his bowels as he half slid and half crab walked backwards away from the vicious animal stalking him. "Please! Have mercy... Whatever you are... I will never do anything," was the last thing he ever said.
End Flashback
"I never actually saw it happen, but was told about the bear that attacked the biker, but decided to spare me. Apparently, my adopted father, the Shaman, was able to get me to safety before the bear came after us."
Having heard this before, Charles had to do some acting and fake the look of shock, but Rodger's mystified expression was for real because he'd never heard about Kid's maiden act of heroism.
"I... I don't know what to say, Kid. Except, thank you for trusting me and our viewers with your harrowing act. Also, in my opinion, I don't see any failure in your tale. You saved an innocent person, held your own against four armed, muscle-bound bikers, and their even more muscular leader. The lessons you took from it have served you well and made you the hero you are today."
"Th... Thank you, Charles. You're one of my closest friends, and I truly appreciate your words and the sincerity behind them.
Tears of genuine love and admiration for one another filled the two friends' eyes and streaked their cheeks as they shared an emotional and loving hug. Behind the camera, Rodger was drying tears he'd shed, also.
"Thanks for sitting down with us."
"Always happy to visit with one of my two fave reporters," Kid grinned, he looked into the camera, and said, "Luke, if you're watchin', you know you're my other fave reporter."
"That's a wrap for me, back to you in the studio."
"And... cut," Rodger said. "Guys, that was the best interview I think I've ever been involved with. Thank you for this. I can't wait to tell my brother, Ryan, about it."
"How is Ryan?"
The guys asking the question in unison made the cameraman giggle.
"He's fine, haven't heard from him since he went on lunch." Rodger hugged the blonde and red-haired guys and said, "I'll get to work on this so it'll be ready for tomorrow's broadcast. Thanks again for letting me be a part of this."
"See you later, Rodg," Charles said with his famous smile.
Kid offered, "Have a nice rest of the day."
Once they were alone, Charles tackled his friend, straddled the redhead's waist, and with his superstrength, easily pinned him to the concrete slab, with his wrists over his head. He used his magic to create multiple hands and feathers, tickling the helpless hero.
"You're sooo gonna regret this, Smiley." Kid shrieked with wild, boyish laughter while unsuccessfully trying to break free.
"I'll let you up in a few minutes, Red. Then you can change so we can go eat. I've got a proposal for my sexy redheaded cowboy."
Charles' eyes sparkled as he leaned down, slowly licked and suckled his friend's perky nipples, then rubbed his dick against the hard manhood beneath him, and gently nibbled and kissed the other pair of soft lips.
Kid's eyes glazed over and rolled back in his head as he softly groaned and wrapped his arms around the sexy blonde. "We'd better stop or we won't get to lunch, Chuckster."
"Who says we're not already having lunch?"
The guys giggled as they separated and composed themselves before heading up the path to their vehicles.
Kid Bondage parked his Harley next to Charles' Genesis. He locked the bike and placed both hands on the butts of his guns to double-check they were tucked safely in their holsters. He pulled the lasso from the side saddle bag, attached it to the hook sewn to the outside of the right side holster, and started walking towards the pavilion for his interview with the sexiest and his personal favorite reporter.
When the hero got closer to his destination, he saw Rodger Sykes, the blonde journalist's go-to cameraman, and Charles talking as Sykes recorded footage of random joggers, kids playing frisbee, or tossing a football or baseball, and couples who were sitting on blankets or in the grass enjoying their time in the sunshine, and suddenly a fun and mischievous idea popped into his head, which made him giggle and jump up and down joyfully.
"Yeah, I think the viewers are gonna love seeing all the activity going on here before focusing on the interview," Charles said, in agreement with his colleague's suggestion of using the recorded footage. Without warning, a shimmering green lasso ensnared him.
Rodger had to act fast and turned the camera so he could catch what happened next.
With a girlishly high-pitched yelping squeal, the reporter was yanked backwards, falling on his butt. Before he could create a thought or execute an action, his body was lifted off the cement slab under his feet. Suspended and helpless, he swayed back and forth, like a sexy, cute piñata.
The twenty-three-year-old lone brunette was so thankful that the camera was on a tripod because he was on the table's bench reclined against the tabletop, wheezing from the uncontrollable boisterous laughter because of the wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression on his friend's face.
"Cut! Cut!" Charles cried out.
"Are you crazy, Charlie? The station and our viewers are gonna love this. It's a wealth of cuteness," Rodger said, once his laughter died down.
"Aww, c'mon, stud. Where's your sense of humor?"
Rodger turned the camera and caught the grinning redheaded hero, nonchalantly leaving the shadows that concealed his presence.
Kid waved at the camera. "Howdy, Rodger, and y'all at home," he said.
"Kid, if you don't get me down."
The playful hero giggled, slapped his friend's plump asscheeks, which made the captive blush and let loose an adorable squeal.
"I'm sooo gonna get you back, Country boy."
"Hey, y'all wanna see somethin' fun?"
Charles gasped cause he knew what mischief-filled thoughts were going through his buddy's mind.
"No... No... They don't wanna see any..."
The next sound was uninhibited boyish laughter coming from the trapped man's mouth, because his sock-clad soles were being tickled. His eyes squeezed shut, and he uselessly tried to kick his legs free from the arm wrapped around his ankles.
"C'mon, Kid, don't tickle my toes," the reporter squealed while giggling like a little boy. "Crap! I'll never live this down."
"Coochie, coochie, Chuckster," Kid teased while giggling.
"This is getting lost on the cutting room floor."
"Sorry, Charlie, it's totally gonna be included in the interview. Leitha just texted me, saying if this gets cut, we'll both become eunuchs," Rodger said, laughing.
Kid stopped tickling and released his friend.
"Just how did she already know about this?"
The brunette devilishly grinned and said, "I may have recorded that scene with my phone, and it just might have been sent to the boss lady, possibly Luke, and allegedly a few others, but I'll never reveal the recipients."
"You're both soooo dead," Charles stated while he and his two friends laughed and hugged. "Alright, you goofs, let's get this underway."
Once the hero and reporter were in place for the best lighting, Rodger gave a thumbs-up gesture and pointed at them.
"Well, I'm here with the amazing Kid Bondage, who, as our viewing audience has just witnessed, is one of the most playful heroes protecting Joy City. Thanks for joining us today, Kid."
There was a pause as the pair shared a brotherly hug and kissed each other on the cheek.
"I'm happy to be here, Charles, but let's get real for a moment. Our relationship goes way beyond just knowing each other professionally. I think it's safe to say that we're also close friends and probably honorary brothers."
"You're so right, we're close friends and honorary brothers."
"Which is why I'm secure in the knowledge that there's no hard feelings for the playful way this interview started."
Charles smirked and narrowed his eyes.
"Of course, Country Kid, there's no hard feelings, but don't think you've escaped retaliation."
Kid's eyes widened as he gasped and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
"I sometimes forget that you can be an evil little blonde boy."
As the interview progressed, Charles got a fun and nasty idea.
"By now, everyone's learned of your successes, but what I think our viewers would love hearing about is Kid Bondage's very first outing, which I happen to know didn't go exactly as you planned."
Rodger and Charles giggled at the shocked, wide-eyed expression on the seasoned hero's face.
"Oh, you are soooo evil, Mr. Peterson."
"Well, I do remember mentioning retaliation, Red."
"I'm soooo getting you back for having to reveal my first major blunder."
Kid closed his eyes, deeply inhaled, and slowly exhaled before he started his tale. "This happened about five years ago. It was before I moved to Joy City, and at the time, I only had my magic lasso and martial arts training..."
Flashback
The sun shone brightly in the sky as Phoenix, dressed as his newly created hero persona, Kid Bondage, rode his motorcycle along the highway between Joy City and Rainbow Falls. For the past hour, he'd been patrolling the road, looking for the bikers he'd heard about who were terrorizing and robbing motorists as they drove through their self-proclaimed territory. After a couple of hours going back and forth between the city and county, he found them.
There was a mix of four bulked-up, bare-chested, fearsome Caucasian, Latino, and Hispanic men, whose height varied from six feet to six feet four inches, all their bodies were solid walls of bulging muscles., two of the guys were skinheads, one had a tall black mohawk with red tips, the last one had a long, dirty blonde braided ponytail that reached midway down his back, and all of them had skulls and crossbones painted on their faces.
The men resembled sharks on a frenzy. They circled a dark red Chevrolet Silverado, intent on causing as much destruction as possible by hitting, shooting, and rocking the pickup. One biker was armed with two chains, one had a bat in each hand, another shot bullets through the windows and windshields, and the guy with the mohawk cut into the truck's bed with a saw designed to slice through metal. The quaking male driver was crouched down in his seat, trying to be invisible as he helplessly watched the violence continue. They wore black jeans, black motorcycle boots, bandanas, and leather wrist cuffs.
Kid fought his hesitance and gulped as he pulled off the road. For a moment, he thought maybe this wasn't such a great idea because all of those guys outweighed him by probably close to one hundred pounds, and their arms were bigger than his legs. He tried to call the state police, but unfortunately, the area was a dead zone for cell phones, which made it the perfect spot to ambush someone. The would-be hero swallowed his fear, stashed his bike in the overgrown bushes and brush, and hoped it wouldn't be noticed.
Thinking there were only the four of them, as if four to one wasn't bad enough, he grabbed his lasso, crept through the trees lining the deserted road, intending on using the element of surprise to his advantage and lessen their numbers.
However, a fifth man was present, shrouded in the shadows of the forest. This guy led the gang, and at six feet six inches, two hundred ninety pounds of nothing but rock-like muscle, he was a massive, hulking man, with shaved black hair, and easily the biggest and most muscular of the group of outlaws. He enjoyed and approved of the display of aggression as he watched the carnage unfold.
When he saw the lone, cowboy hat wearing, red-haired biker, clad in his open black leather vest, black jeans, and black motorcycle boots creeping closer to the scene, his almost black, menacing, beady eyes narrowed, and released a low, gravelly, gut rumbling growl, but decided to hold off on alerting his guys to the new arrival's presence, because he wanted to see what threat, if any this man was to his gang and their criminal endeavors.
The rookie hero was definitely facing a heroic deed that was going to be like pushing a boulder up the side of a mountain because not only did he not have a lot of experience using the lasso, but he had no backup. His effort could have started out great, but alas, fate didn't have that in store for the young good guy.
The redhead climbed one of the trees, stood on a branch, and hollered, "Hey, that's not a nice thing to do to someone else's property."
The bikers stopped, stepped away from the truck, turned in the direction of the speaker, and looked up.
The good thing that came from the distraction was the driver quickly sat up, started the engine, then mashed the gas pedal to the truck's floor, and with squealing tires, and a cloud of smoke from the exhaust pipe, sped away, hoping he'd find a police station close by so that the man who just saved him could be helped before getting hurt or worse, killed.
The leader's fists clenched and unclenched, and his teeth ground together as rage began to rise in him because their target escaped.
Looping one end of the lasso around a higher branch, the young leather-clad man yelled, "Yee-Haw," as he swung into the air like Tarzan on a vine. Unfortunately, the boot's laces came untied during the swing, so the footwear was flung from the feet they protected, soared in between the heads of two bikers, and landed somewhere in a patch of thick bushes. Fortunately, each of his soles plowed into the guts of two men, causing them to double over and fall on their asses.
"Well, that's something I'm never revealing to anyone unless it's tortured out of me," the budding hero uttered under his breath while swinging back and forth.
Another unfortunate occurrence was that the lasso came loose, and he landed on his butt in a patch of prickly bushes.
"OUCH!!! Fuckin' hell."
The young man jumped up and down, yelping like a puppy, while trying to pull tiny needles from his ass.
"Man, this ain't goin' the way I planned."
"Aww, did the little boy get hurt trying to do his own stunts?"
"I ain't no little boy, you Incredible Hulk wannabe." Kid growled and threw a punch that landed in the taunter's gut. "Oww! What the fuck are your abs made of, freakin' steel?" he hollered in pain because it felt like he'd just hit concrete.
Meanwhile, the other guy just grunted, staggered a little, and ended up looking even meaner and nastier than before. He grabbed the younger assailant's arm, throwing the smaller man's body over his shoulder and into the air.
"Fuck! Fuck! Yeow! This must be what a ragdoll feels like. I'm not a fan," Kid squealed girlishly as he became airborne. "Oof!" He grunted and landed flat on his back and groaned. "That's gonna be a nasty bruise. Bruise hell, I may never walk again by the time this is all over with. When the man bent over him, he threw a right cross that landed squarely in the middle guy's jawbone. "Holy Fuck! Your jaw's as hard as rock. What the hell did your mama feed ya?" he exclaimed while gingerly rubbing his throbbing hand.
"Thanks for the massage, boy."
"Grrr, ya know, it'd be a particularly nice gesture on your part, and just plain 'ole good southern manners if you'd at least act like I've done some damage to ya, apeman," Kid said as he got to his feet. "Y'all are totally killin' the badass image I'm tryin' to get spread around these here parts." He glared at the bearded man facing him. "Aww shit, I know that this ain't a gentlemanly thing to do, but ain't none of y'all gentlemen," he declared.
He placed his hands on the biker's broad shoulders and used all the strength in his leg to knee him in his crotch.
The hulk's eyes bulged, he doubled over, fell to the ground, and threw up before writhing and groaning in absolute agony.
"Sorry for doin' that, but I couldn't get ya down any other way, and I'm the one who's outnumbered."
Seeing the other three surrounding him, the redhead nervously laughed.
"Aww shit! This ain't gonna be easy."
One of the remaining trio lunged at the smaller ginger. He jumped into the air and did a roundhouse kick. Thankfully, when his sock-clad sole connected with the man's jaw, there was enough force to knock his assailant to the ground, temporarily stunning him. Kid ducked a punch from the guy with the mohawk and retaliated with a head butt that had both parties stumbling and seeing stars.
The gunman raised his arms and shot the two Glock Nines. Luckily, his aim was way off, and the bullets flew over the do-gooder's head. His legs were swept out from under him, and the sock-clad foot stomped on his family jewels, making him scream like he'd never screamed before, before passing out from the overwhelming pain.
The redhead jumped on the back of the guy with the mohawk. The pair struggled and grunted, with one trying to dislodge his passenger and the other trying not to get thrown.
"Yee-Haw! Ride 'em Kid Bondage," Kid shouted like he was in a rodeo.
"Get off 'a' me, ya freakin' cowboy. Shit! Ouch! Don't be pullin' my hair, you're fighting like a bitch."
"Hey, when you're at a disadvantage, ya gotta resort to anything, sexy."
Just as the tan-skinned Latino biker raised his muscular arms and bent them backward, intent on dislodging the boy, he suddenly felt an incredibly ticklish sensation coming from his open pit hollows. "Shit! Fuckin' hell, ya damn freak. Ticklin'? Really?" he hollered. Instantly, the bull-like male fell face down to the ground, shrieking and hysterically laughing. When the tickle assault targeted his ribs and sides, his vocal reaction got louder and more boisterous as he screeched, "Fuckin' stop the damn tickling." The biker writhed, thrashed, and bucked madly as his boot-clad feet kicked and jeans-clad legs slid along the paved road.
"Wow! I never guessed any of y'all would be ticklish," Kid said with a teasing tone of voice. "Damn, son, you're better than riding a buckin' bronco. Yee-haw!."
The leader was not pleased with his gang's performance and decided to intervene. Since the younger male hadn't discovered he was there, the biker used that to his advantage. Not making a sound, he crept up behind the tickle attacker.
*****
The Forest Ranger Station...
Thomas sat in his office doing paperwork. Suddenly, his eyes glowed, and he went into a trance. When he came out of it, his brown irises flashed and darkened. "They shall not kill my son," he growled. The Shaman slipped his arms through the leather loops sewn into the lining of his bearskin cape and flipped up the bearhead cowl to cover his head.
The Silverado skidded to a stop in front of the ranger's building, and the vehicle was still rocking when he jumped out and ran inside. He stopped at the desk behind which were standing two young men, who looked like brothers in their late teens, and hysterically hollered. "Help! I need help, somebody."
The Windsong boys sprang into action. Dusty grabbed a cold bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to the new arrival as his brother gently led the distraught man to the sitting area.
"Obviously, you've just suffered something traumatic," Spirit softly stated with his hand resting lightly on the older brunette's quaking shoulder.
Dusty asked, "Can you please take a few slow sips of water, then take a moment to compose yourself before telling us how we might help you?"
Before anyone could speak, the office door flew open, causing the boys and the man to jump and yelp.
"Forgive my abruptness. The Creator sent me a vision of Phoenix, in trouble. I must go to him." Thomas paused, then gazed into the eyes of the stranger, and said, "Fear not, sir. The red-haired boy who came to your aid is my adopted son and is cherished by us and the Creator. Boys, your brother will suffer some great pain, but will survive and learn from this experience. Take care of this traveller, my sons. I love you both."
One of the three males was shocked and speechless. The younger pair shook their heads and giggled as their father growled and literally disappeared before their eyes.
"Wh... What... The H...Hell?"
"We will explain some of what you just witnessed, sir. By the way, I'm Spirit Windsong." He pointed to his brother, saying, "This is my brother, Dusty, and the man who just blew your mind was our father. Shaman, Thomas Growling Bear Windsong."
"I... I've heard of him and your family, but never paid much attention to much, other than the good things you people do for the county and community."
With a knowing half-grin, Dusty asked, "Sir, would you care for something a bit stronger than water while we chat?"
"I wouldn't mind a shot of bourbon, if you've got it."
Spirit nodded, then got up and went into the office. While pouring the shot, he telepathically told his father that they offered some alcohol to the man to calm his nerves while they talked. He giggled when his dad said they made a good choice, and that he knew how much was in the bottle, just in case they decided to sneak a shot between them.
*****
The Deserted Stretch Of Road...
"Ya ready to give up, big guy? I'm not afraid to pull your boots off and go for them big 'old dawgs 'a' yours."
Kid's air was suddenly cut off by something constricting around his neck, and he was yanked backward, then forced into an upright sitting position, and pinned against a fleshy, solid wall.
"You've just come to the end of your heroics, little boy," the leader growled.
Shivers traveled up and down the trapped ginger's spine, and his eyes reflected the fear overtaking him. Desperately, his fingernails scratched at, and his hands gripped and tried to pull the light-tan muscular arm down that was threatening to squeeze his head off. His skin was turning blue, the lack of oxygen made Kid's head swim, and his lungs burned as they tried to suck as much of the life-sustaining element as possible. Wheezing and weak coughs came from the helpless man as his strength was quickly leaving him.
"I already feel the life leaving you, boy. However, after you had your fun with my guys, I'm in a generous mood and gonna let you live so they can have some fun with you, while I keep you helpless."
Kid wasn't sure which was scarier, the thought of losing his life, or the reprieve he'd been given. With no warning, the hold on his neck was released. A flood of air flowed into his lungs, causing him to lurch forward, gasping and coughing so hard that he gagged and coughed up a little vomit.
He yelped when the former captor lifted him off the ground by the collar of his leather vest, his legs futilely kicked in the air as he was carried one-handed over to a road sign, and hung on it by the back of his vest, like a wall decoration.
"Mister, this ain't helpin' my self-esteem."
The leader chuckled and said, "Maybe you'll think twice before gettin' involved in something without any backup... That's if you live to see tomorrow." He laughed maniacally when he saw the younger male's Adam's apple move up and down when he gulped.
His arms were pulled behind the sign where his wrists were tied together, and his ankles were tied to the wooden post. "This has got to be the most humiliatin' thing I've experienced today and possibly ever," he softly muttered.
"Alright, boys, have at 'em, the leader said to the two bikers who weren't still writhing in pain.
"Ya mentioned something about ticklin' my feet, Kiddo," Mohawk guy said, sneering. "Let's see if your tootsies are ticklish."
"Dang it, Bud... Don't call 'em tootsies."
The teasingly taunting nickname caused the helpless redhead to squirm and blush. That was nothing compared to the embarrassment he felt when his socks were slipped off his feet.
"Aww crap. C'mon, it ain't cool to take a guy's socks."
The soft, pale soles wrinkled and unwrinkled when the ginger's plump toes flexed and curled. Seconds after the man's wiggling fingertips made contact with the fleshy sole, peels of high-pitched squeals and giggles echoed through the trees.
"Please... Not my bare feet... I'm soooo ticklish."
The biker chuckled, his eyes darkened, and his six-inch cock threatened to break through the zipper of his jeans as his fingertips lightly stroked back and forth along his captive's soles.
"Coochie, coochie."
"Damn it... Not the fuckin' coochies... It always makes the ticklin' worse."
"That's an adorable giggle ya got there, little boy."
The switch from fingertips to fingernails had the hero howling and screaming with unbridled laughter. Sweat dripped from his pores and bangs, stinging his eyes until he squeezed them shut, his body bucked against the unforgiving restraints, his head flew back and forth, and side to side. Tears streaked down his face and mixed with the drool and snot coating his blushing cheeks. Suddenly, the tickling stopped. "Thank you!" he said. Kid still giggled from the residual ticklish and tingling sensations on his soles and toes as he panted and tried to recover.
The hollows of his pits burned like nothing he had experienced before because of the bottom edge of the vest's armholes digging into the sensitive, pale, hairless flesh. However, that was nothing compared to the searing pain he felt when the other biker attached a set of metal clamps connected by a good-sized chain to his pink, erect nipples. Even though his eyes bulged, and he screamed like a banshee, his dick was achingly hard, and precum pooled in his black and gold tiger-striped bikini briefs. The relentless pummeling blows his abs and stomach received from the mohawk sporting muscle man made him gag and vomit. Surprisingly, through all this abuse, his cock never shrank, and it visibly pulsed against the jeans as the semen got closer to the slit.
"Fuck! You're just a little freak, aren't ya pussy boy?"
The leader cut the rope restraining their toy's wrists and ankles, then lowered the trembling, bruised body to the ground. He sneered and punched the young man's face, causing a dark red mark to form on the cheek, and the lips to split and bleed.
Kid's eyes were almost swollen shut, his head turned to the side, and with every body-spasming cough, he groaned in agony.
"We need to shut this brat up," the leader said.
Kid's discarded pair of socks was balled up, stuffed into his mouth, and secured by a roll of silver duct tape being wound around his head, despite his feeble attempts to not let it happen. He was rolled onto his stomach, and to his shock and horror, the jeans and underwear were ripped from his body. In a last act of desperation, he fought with everything he had left, but was easily overpowered. Tears streamed down his face as he felt the leader's large cockhead press against his ass, and he silently prayed for someone or something to intervene and rescue him.
By now, the two fallen bikers had recovered; they stood with the other gang members and waited for their turn with the defeated redhead. Suddenly, the four henchmen were flung into the air by an unseen force. Each one slammed into a strong, established, and aged oak tree. They were instantly knocked out, their backs were scraped and bloodied as they slid down the bark, and landed in unmoving heaps of broken skin and broken bones.
"You did not heed my warning when you and your gang entered my territory. Now you shall face the consequences of your decisions, and for trying to rape my son," Thomas barked.
The leader lept to his feet, spun around, and glared at the slightly shorter, dark-haired man. "Back off, Savage, or I'll put you in the same position as your weakling son."
From somewhere inside, Kid found the strength to make a move to help his savior. He rolled onto his back and fought through every ounce of burning pain as he lifted and bent his legs. Then, with a roar, born of pain, anger, and sheer will, he kicked the biker in the back, sending him to his knees. After the draining physical exertion, he panted and groaned with his head on the ground as he tried to stay conscious.
"This is for the people you've harmed."
The Shaman pulled his arm back and backhanded the fallen leader so hard that he toppled backwards, landing on his back. He turned and used his powers to put his honorary son into a deep, rejuvenating sleep so that he wouldn't be traumatized by what was about to occur.
The former outlaw was writhing in pain from the burning in his cheek.
"This is for trying to rape my boy."
Thomas growled and transformed into his bear form.
The leader's jeans were suddenly wet at the crotch, and he lost control of his bowels as he half slid and half crab walked backwards away from the vicious animal stalking him. "Please! Have mercy... Whatever you are... I will never do anything," was the last thing he ever said.
End Flashback
"I never actually saw it happen, but was told about the bear that attacked the biker, but decided to spare me. Apparently, my adopted father, the Shaman, was able to get me to safety before the bear came after us."
Having heard this before, Charles had to do some acting and fake the look of shock, but Rodger's mystified expression was for real because he'd never heard about Kid's maiden act of heroism.
"I... I don't know what to say, Kid. Except, thank you for trusting me and our viewers with your harrowing act. Also, in my opinion, I don't see any failure in your tale. You saved an innocent person, held your own against four armed, muscle-bound bikers, and their even more muscular leader. The lessons you took from it have served you well and made you the hero you are today."
"Th... Thank you, Charles. You're one of my closest friends, and I truly appreciate your words and the sincerity behind them.
Tears of genuine love and admiration for one another filled the two friends' eyes and streaked their cheeks as they shared an emotional and loving hug. Behind the camera, Rodger was drying tears he'd shed, also.
"Thanks for sitting down with us."
"Always happy to visit with one of my two fave reporters," Kid grinned, he looked into the camera, and said, "Luke, if you're watchin', you know you're my other fave reporter."
"That's a wrap for me, back to you in the studio."
"And... cut," Rodger said. "Guys, that was the best interview I think I've ever been involved with. Thank you for this. I can't wait to tell my brother, Ryan, about it."
"How is Ryan?"
The guys asking the question in unison made the cameraman giggle.
"He's fine, haven't heard from him since he went on lunch." Rodger hugged the blonde and red-haired guys and said, "I'll get to work on this so it'll be ready for tomorrow's broadcast. Thanks again for letting me be a part of this."
"See you later, Rodg," Charles said with his famous smile.
Kid offered, "Have a nice rest of the day."
Once they were alone, Charles tackled his friend, straddled the redhead's waist, and with his superstrength, easily pinned him to the concrete slab, with his wrists over his head. He used his magic to create multiple hands and feathers, tickling the helpless hero.
"You're sooo gonna regret this, Smiley." Kid shrieked with wild, boyish laughter while unsuccessfully trying to break free.
"I'll let you up in a few minutes, Red. Then you can change so we can go eat. I've got a proposal for my sexy redheaded cowboy."
Charles' eyes sparkled as he leaned down, slowly licked and suckled his friend's perky nipples, then rubbed his dick against the hard manhood beneath him, and gently nibbled and kissed the other pair of soft lips.
Kid's eyes glazed over and rolled back in his head as he softly groaned and wrapped his arms around the sexy blonde. "We'd better stop or we won't get to lunch, Chuckster."
"Who says we're not already having lunch?"
The guys giggled as they separated and composed themselves before heading up the path to their vehicles.
