Greetings, all. Perhaps you've noticed that the unemployment rate has been creeping up recently. Here's how one poor guy lost his job. Ah, but he's receiving a truly unique form of unemployment compensation!
Enjoy!
How I Lost My Job
by
T. T. Gore
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed, jerking my torso to and fro in a frantic attempt to evade Danny’s ticklish assault. But it was useless—fucking USELESS! No matter how energetically I writhed and wiggled, there was no escaping the hellish caress of his fingers. They danced up and down my sides, from armpits to hips—and the intent expression on Danny’s face made it glaringly obvious that I could expect no mercy! But I begged for mercy even so. What else could I do?
This wasn’t at all what I’d envisioned when Danny invited me to his lakeside cottage for an intimate weekend of illicit pleasure. We’d met when he was hired as an administrative assistant for my department at Titanicron Corporation. Danny was slender, with dark hair and big brown eyes. He lost little time in making a pass at me—and I didn’t resist for long. “I like muscles,” he whispered one evening when we’d met for drinks after work. “I like YOU, sweetie. Do you like me?” I replied that I did, and that was the beginning.
All summer long we’d been masturbating together in secret, and the prospect of a two-day session with no annoying interruptions was just too tempting to pass up. Though at that point I was still insisting to myself that I was one-hundred-percent straight, and that my relationship with Danny was merely a summer dalliance, the truth was that I’d become addicted to his intimate ministrations. “Only a guy like me REALLY understands what a guy like you wants,” he would whisper as he stroked my baby-oiled cock. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
At moments like that, when I was shivering on the brink of climax, Danny’s snide little insinuations weakened my will to resist his desires. For I knew what he wanted, and it was much more than mere mutual masturbation. When offered to perform fellatio on me, I almost gave in. But I knew that if I did, he’d expect me to reciprocate. And I didn’t want to go there. Perhaps deep in my heart I knew the truth: that I was bi and would eventually succumb. But I couldn’t nerve myself to take the decisive step.
And Danny was patient—though eventually he got tired of waiting for me to make up my mind. At least that’s what I thought at first when he tricked me into this ticklish situation.
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA!!!” I shrieked now as sweet Danny stroked my ribs with stiff, demanding fingers. My flexing toes grabbed at the grass—my tense balls quivered between my wide-open thighs—my drum-tight belly convulsed with each howl of manic laughter that his intolerable ministrations summoned forth!
It was a hot day, but thankfully we were shaded by the broad branches of the oak tree beneath which I was being tickled silly. My position was horribly helpless and exposed: bound wrists stretched high over my head and secured to a stout bough of the old oak. My ankles were bound to a pair of widely spaced wooden stakes that Danny had pounded into the ground. I’d been hoisted just high enough to lift my heels from the ground. Oh, and I was stark naked. In fact, we both were.
Don’t worry, sweetie,” Danny had assured me as he tightened the last knot. “No one can see us from the road. “And I though you might enjoy an open-air orgasm.”
“But do you have to tie me up like this?” I wiggled my bare behind. “I mean, this is pretty kinky!”
“Trust me, sweetie,” he replied with a wink. “It’s even better when you’re restrained.”
Why in the FUCK did I let him talk me into it?!
When he was finished securing me for the fun I still expected to come, Danny gave me a playful slap on the ass. “Well!” he remarked brightly. “I guess I have you under control, don’t I?”
“That’s right,” I replied, playing along. “And you can do whatever you want—I’m helpless!”
We both laughed. Then Danny said, “That’s right, isn’t it, sweetie? You’re helpless.” He stepped closer and put a hand on my chest. “Completely helpless. So this would be a good time to ask you if you’ve changed your mind about the parameters of our relationship.”
“Parameters? What’s THAT supposed to mean?” I demanded, wiggling a little in my bonds.
“Oh, I think you know what it means,” Danny whispered. His hand slipped down to my already-erect cock, then to my tense balls.
“EEEEEEK!!!” I shrilled as he gave my gonads a gentle squeeze.
“Now pay attention,” Danny commanded. He relaxed his grip, but kept his hand in place. “We’ve been fooling around together all summer, sweetie. And while I have nothing against mutual masturbation as a pastime, I also believe that variety is the spice of life.”
“B-b-but you know I’m not—” I stammered. “I mean I can’t, Danny! We talked about this! I just CAN’T—!”
“But I think you CAN,” he whispered. “I think that deep down inside, you WANT to. So now I’m going to help you to overcome all those silly little INHIBITIONS, sweetie. You know how?”
“Danny, what the fuck are you TALKING about?!” I cried. But I knew exactly what he was taking about—and what was worse, he was making my cock stiffen even MORE!
“It’s simple, sweetie.” He gave my balls another brief squeeze. “I’m going to TICKLE you, that’s all! And I’m not going to stop until you promise to be NICE to me!”
“NICE to you—?!”
“That’s right,” he nodded. “Nice to me. As in French lessons. For a start.”
“F-F-F-French lessons?” I quavered. “Omygod Danny you can’t MEAN IT—!”
“Don’t worry, sweetie, he whispered. “After half an hour or so of what I have planned for you, you’ll be begging me to let you do it.”
Thus it began.
I opened my mouth to protest against this outrageous, fucking UNTHINKABLE assault on my basic sexual orientation—but what emerged instead was a high, dismayingly feminine shriek. Danny was TICKLING me! He was tickling my helplessly exposed ARMPITS—!
A series of incredibly intense thrills shot through my body in response to his sudden, fiendish assault. My cock, by now fully erect, swayed and jiggled as I strove to squirm away from his probing, stroking fingers. “HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I screamed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HICK-HICKLES MEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Ah, I think you LIKE it, sweetie,” he giggled. “Because your precious penis is all RIGID, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t deny it. Sure, I was laughing like an idiot—but I was also squeezing out the first of what I suspected would be the first of many drops of pre-cum. The truth was that Danny’s hilarious caresses were making me feel SO incredibly fucking SEXY—!
But there was no sign, alas, that he intended to grant me the release I so ardently craved—at least not any time soon. Though he himself was thoroughly aroused, Danny was obviously in no hurry to terminate my ticklish torment. “We’ve only just BEGIN, sweetie!” he exclaimed as if he’d been reading my mind. “We have all AFTERNOON to test your limits!”
And to see if he could persuade me to perform fellatio on him, I added to myself between one gasping breath and the next. Oh, but I wouldn’t! I just COULDN’T—!
So I wiggled and writhed and danced on my toes and shrieked like a fucking GIRL as Danny stroked my armpits and ribs with his sharp-nailed fingers. But despite the extremity of laughing lunacy to which I was soon reduced—despite my aching side and belly—despite the oily sweat that covered my skin—despite the goose bumps that made the hairs on my arms and legs stand at attention—my treacherous cock remained hard as a rock. Indeed, I could feel it straining to lengthen itself to the absolute fucking MAX! And oh! how I longed for sweet, sadistic Danny to TICKLE it—!
But of course he didn’t tickle it. He tickled just about everything else, though. When he started on the back of my legs, I thought I’d go crazy. But it’s amazing what you can take when you have no choice in the matter. It was horribly apparent that until I gave in to his demands, Danny would continue to tickle me. So why didn’t I simply surrender? During our masturbation sessions, hadn’t I fantasized about performing fellatio on sweet, sexy Danny? Why no just do it? Why let this lunatic torture go on and on and ON—?
Good question. At the time, I couldn’t quite answer it.
So the tickling continued, and I have no idea how much time passed before Danny finally decided to grant me a respite. It could have been fifteen minutes. It could have been two hours. Being tickled, seemed to have a distorting effect on one’s sense of time. I hung there, gasping for breath and squirming a little as beads of sweat trickled down my body. My cock stuck up at an acute angle, crowned with a tiny, clear droplet of pre-cum.
Danny stepped close to me. He put his hand on my heaving chest and ran his fingers through my dark, damp chest hair. Then he said, “I think it’s time, sweetie, that I explained what this is ACTUALLY all about.”
Nonstop laughter had so thoroughly addled my brains that I did not at first grasp the significance of his statement. But his next words made the situation horrifically clear. “Now that you understand how vulnerable you are to tickling, I’m sure that you wouldn’t mind answering some questions for me, sweetie,” he said, still toying with my chest hair. “Questions concerning Titanicron’s new synthetic fuel formula.”
“W-w-w-what are you TALKING about!?” I cried. “Danny, I thought—I mean you said that you—that we—oh, what are you DOING—?!”
“Well, I can’t deny that I find you attractive, sweetie,” he snickered. His hand strayed down to give my tumid tool a cruelly affectionate squeeze that made me moan and tremble. “But I have to be honest,” he went on. “This is business. You have certain information. I’ve been hired to squeeze it out of you. So this afternoon, you’re going to GIVE me that information. Every single, solitary last scrap of it.”
Danny then proceeded to recite his list of questions. They were detailed, well-researched questions showing that he—or his employers, whoever they were—already knew quite a bit about Titanicron’s secret process. They lacked only a few key pieces of the scientific puzzle—pieces that I could provide.
“You know, sweetie,” Danny whispered, “I could have chosen to use drugs and conventional torture on you. Ever had you balls wired to a car battery?” He put an arm around my waist and began to caress my bare behind. “But then I decided that a less crude approach, playing on certain weaknesses and secret fantasies, might work better in your case. I have an instinct about these things, you see. And as I suspected, it wasn’t hard to lure you into a compromising position.”
I had no reply to that—it was only too true.
“So now, sweetie, I’m going to TICKLE you and TEASE you until one of two things happens,” Danny concluded. “Either you’ll tell me what I want to know or I’ll tickle you and tickle you and fucking TICKLE you until I drive you over the screaming edge of MADNESS—!”
And that was no idle threat—as I was shortly to discover!
“I’ve got something here that I think you’ll find interesting,” Danny snickered. He held up a long, stiff, pointed white feather. “See? And can you guess what I’m going to DO with it?”
My skin crawled with dread as I ran down the list of horrors that Danny could inflict upon me with that fearsome instrument of torture.
“Let’s put it this way,” he explained as he stepped around to stand behind me. “Certain portions of your masculine anatomy are, shall we say, exceedingly DELICATE. For example…”
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” I squealed. He had begun to stroke the supersensitive patch of skin just above my butt cheeks, and it tickled like MAD! “EEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE!!!” I screeched at the absolute fucking TOP of my laboring lungs!
“Want me to go a little LOWER?” Danny inquired with a sadistic giggle.
My only response was to wiggle my ass and redouble the volume of my hilariously agonizing shrieks. And when he DID go lower, stroking the cleft between my butt cheeks with hellish precision, I did my absolute fucking best to turn myself inside fucking OUT—!
“Ready to talk?” Danny whispered. “Tell me what I want to know, sweetie, and I’ll stop.”
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-GAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-YAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed. My asshole performed rapid spasms as the caressing feather sent jolt after jolt of ticklish electricity shooting straight into my balls and belly. “OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I protested as Danny zeroed in on my tightly puckered orifice.
“TELL me, sweetie!” he insisted. “Just TELL me and I’ll stop TICKLING you! TELL me and I’ll let you CUM—!”
“GAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” I howled by way of response. My muscles were convulsing uncontrollably by now, and my sweat glands were working overtime. The tree limb from which I hung creaked in sympathy with my increasingly frenetic struggles. But still I refused to tell darling Danny what he wanted to know! Instead I just laughed. And laughed. And fucking LAUGHED—!
And though Danny didn’t know it, the joke was on him. Because with his unintentional assistance I’d learned something about myself—I’d learned that I positively ADORED what Danny was doing to me! Bondage…tickling…orgasm denial…it was absolutely the sexiest, most KINKY thrill I’d ever experienced! And now I didn’t want it to STOP—!
Though I’ve never asked him about it, I’m quite sure that by that time Danny was well aware of my reason for resisting his demands. And he played along! I’d already decided that I’d give up Titanicron’s secrets at the point when my interrogator grew weary of my stubborn refusal to cooperate and threatened the use of more forceful measures. But Danny just kept TICKLING me!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked as the hellish feather swept forward to stroke my tense, delicate balls. And I positively WAILED when it began to caress the underside of my incredibly rigid fucking COCK—!
“Better not CUM!” Danny whispered, snuggling close—close enough so that the head of his own tumid tool touched the small of my back. He moved the feather back and forth. “If you CUM, sweetie, I’ll just have to give up with the tickling and use some REAL muscle!
By now the head of my yearning member was well lubricated with pre-cum and my balls were quivering with the desperate sensation that immediately precedes orgasm. But I would CONTROL myself! No matter how much I LONGED to empty my balls, I would control the desperate, driving desire to cum my stupid fucking BRAINS out! Because as long as I could control myself, Danny would keep TICKLING me—!
“Does it TICKLE?” Danny whispered with a throaty catch in his voice. With his free hand he was stroking my thigh. He let the feather fall from his fingers and wrapped his fingers around my cock. I arched my back…I wiggled my ass…
And then it was happening! Oh, despite all my struggles to control myself it was HAPPENING as with a joyous grunt of effort, I commenced to cum my fucking BRAINS out! A raging wave of pure ECSTASY swept over me as with Danny’s eager assistance I emptied my balls in a series of powerful, muscular spasms! And from the way he writhed against me, it was clear that Danny was caught up in the moment as well—a fact confirmed just moments later when he squirted all over my fucking BACK—!
Need I add that Danny didn’t need muscle to get the answers to his questions? That evening, in the snug bedroom of the cottage, I told all for the benefit of his portable tape recorder. It proved astonishingly easy to betray my employer while kneeling face to face with Danny at the foot of the bed, both of us stark naked with the swollen heads of our erect cocks just barely touching…
After spilling the corporation’s most precious secret, I knew I wouldn’t have much of a future at Titanicron. All too soon they figured out who sbetrayed them, and I was summarily sacked. But there are compensations. These days I’m taking French lessons, and sweet Danny has proved to be a most demanding tutor. But with the help of a spanking I aced my midterm examination—and my instructor was loud in his praise of my performance. “Oh, SWEETIE!” he cried at one point. “Your tongue is so ROUGH—!”
And I know that you’re wondering—so yes, I’m tickled silly about the direction our relationship has taken since that afternoon under the old oak. And that, dear reader, is no figure of speech!
Enjoy!
How I Lost My Job
by
T. T. Gore
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed, jerking my torso to and fro in a frantic attempt to evade Danny’s ticklish assault. But it was useless—fucking USELESS! No matter how energetically I writhed and wiggled, there was no escaping the hellish caress of his fingers. They danced up and down my sides, from armpits to hips—and the intent expression on Danny’s face made it glaringly obvious that I could expect no mercy! But I begged for mercy even so. What else could I do?
This wasn’t at all what I’d envisioned when Danny invited me to his lakeside cottage for an intimate weekend of illicit pleasure. We’d met when he was hired as an administrative assistant for my department at Titanicron Corporation. Danny was slender, with dark hair and big brown eyes. He lost little time in making a pass at me—and I didn’t resist for long. “I like muscles,” he whispered one evening when we’d met for drinks after work. “I like YOU, sweetie. Do you like me?” I replied that I did, and that was the beginning.
All summer long we’d been masturbating together in secret, and the prospect of a two-day session with no annoying interruptions was just too tempting to pass up. Though at that point I was still insisting to myself that I was one-hundred-percent straight, and that my relationship with Danny was merely a summer dalliance, the truth was that I’d become addicted to his intimate ministrations. “Only a guy like me REALLY understands what a guy like you wants,” he would whisper as he stroked my baby-oiled cock. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
At moments like that, when I was shivering on the brink of climax, Danny’s snide little insinuations weakened my will to resist his desires. For I knew what he wanted, and it was much more than mere mutual masturbation. When offered to perform fellatio on me, I almost gave in. But I knew that if I did, he’d expect me to reciprocate. And I didn’t want to go there. Perhaps deep in my heart I knew the truth: that I was bi and would eventually succumb. But I couldn’t nerve myself to take the decisive step.
And Danny was patient—though eventually he got tired of waiting for me to make up my mind. At least that’s what I thought at first when he tricked me into this ticklish situation.
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA!!!” I shrieked now as sweet Danny stroked my ribs with stiff, demanding fingers. My flexing toes grabbed at the grass—my tense balls quivered between my wide-open thighs—my drum-tight belly convulsed with each howl of manic laughter that his intolerable ministrations summoned forth!
It was a hot day, but thankfully we were shaded by the broad branches of the oak tree beneath which I was being tickled silly. My position was horribly helpless and exposed: bound wrists stretched high over my head and secured to a stout bough of the old oak. My ankles were bound to a pair of widely spaced wooden stakes that Danny had pounded into the ground. I’d been hoisted just high enough to lift my heels from the ground. Oh, and I was stark naked. In fact, we both were.
Don’t worry, sweetie,” Danny had assured me as he tightened the last knot. “No one can see us from the road. “And I though you might enjoy an open-air orgasm.”
“But do you have to tie me up like this?” I wiggled my bare behind. “I mean, this is pretty kinky!”
“Trust me, sweetie,” he replied with a wink. “It’s even better when you’re restrained.”
Why in the FUCK did I let him talk me into it?!
When he was finished securing me for the fun I still expected to come, Danny gave me a playful slap on the ass. “Well!” he remarked brightly. “I guess I have you under control, don’t I?”
“That’s right,” I replied, playing along. “And you can do whatever you want—I’m helpless!”
We both laughed. Then Danny said, “That’s right, isn’t it, sweetie? You’re helpless.” He stepped closer and put a hand on my chest. “Completely helpless. So this would be a good time to ask you if you’ve changed your mind about the parameters of our relationship.”
“Parameters? What’s THAT supposed to mean?” I demanded, wiggling a little in my bonds.
“Oh, I think you know what it means,” Danny whispered. His hand slipped down to my already-erect cock, then to my tense balls.
“EEEEEEK!!!” I shrilled as he gave my gonads a gentle squeeze.
“Now pay attention,” Danny commanded. He relaxed his grip, but kept his hand in place. “We’ve been fooling around together all summer, sweetie. And while I have nothing against mutual masturbation as a pastime, I also believe that variety is the spice of life.”
“B-b-but you know I’m not—” I stammered. “I mean I can’t, Danny! We talked about this! I just CAN’T—!”
“But I think you CAN,” he whispered. “I think that deep down inside, you WANT to. So now I’m going to help you to overcome all those silly little INHIBITIONS, sweetie. You know how?”
“Danny, what the fuck are you TALKING about?!” I cried. But I knew exactly what he was taking about—and what was worse, he was making my cock stiffen even MORE!
“It’s simple, sweetie.” He gave my balls another brief squeeze. “I’m going to TICKLE you, that’s all! And I’m not going to stop until you promise to be NICE to me!”
“NICE to you—?!”
“That’s right,” he nodded. “Nice to me. As in French lessons. For a start.”
“F-F-F-French lessons?” I quavered. “Omygod Danny you can’t MEAN IT—!”
“Don’t worry, sweetie, he whispered. “After half an hour or so of what I have planned for you, you’ll be begging me to let you do it.”
Thus it began.
I opened my mouth to protest against this outrageous, fucking UNTHINKABLE assault on my basic sexual orientation—but what emerged instead was a high, dismayingly feminine shriek. Danny was TICKLING me! He was tickling my helplessly exposed ARMPITS—!
A series of incredibly intense thrills shot through my body in response to his sudden, fiendish assault. My cock, by now fully erect, swayed and jiggled as I strove to squirm away from his probing, stroking fingers. “HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I screamed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HICK-HICKLES MEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Ah, I think you LIKE it, sweetie,” he giggled. “Because your precious penis is all RIGID, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t deny it. Sure, I was laughing like an idiot—but I was also squeezing out the first of what I suspected would be the first of many drops of pre-cum. The truth was that Danny’s hilarious caresses were making me feel SO incredibly fucking SEXY—!
But there was no sign, alas, that he intended to grant me the release I so ardently craved—at least not any time soon. Though he himself was thoroughly aroused, Danny was obviously in no hurry to terminate my ticklish torment. “We’ve only just BEGIN, sweetie!” he exclaimed as if he’d been reading my mind. “We have all AFTERNOON to test your limits!”
And to see if he could persuade me to perform fellatio on him, I added to myself between one gasping breath and the next. Oh, but I wouldn’t! I just COULDN’T—!
So I wiggled and writhed and danced on my toes and shrieked like a fucking GIRL as Danny stroked my armpits and ribs with his sharp-nailed fingers. But despite the extremity of laughing lunacy to which I was soon reduced—despite my aching side and belly—despite the oily sweat that covered my skin—despite the goose bumps that made the hairs on my arms and legs stand at attention—my treacherous cock remained hard as a rock. Indeed, I could feel it straining to lengthen itself to the absolute fucking MAX! And oh! how I longed for sweet, sadistic Danny to TICKLE it—!
But of course he didn’t tickle it. He tickled just about everything else, though. When he started on the back of my legs, I thought I’d go crazy. But it’s amazing what you can take when you have no choice in the matter. It was horribly apparent that until I gave in to his demands, Danny would continue to tickle me. So why didn’t I simply surrender? During our masturbation sessions, hadn’t I fantasized about performing fellatio on sweet, sexy Danny? Why no just do it? Why let this lunatic torture go on and on and ON—?
Good question. At the time, I couldn’t quite answer it.
So the tickling continued, and I have no idea how much time passed before Danny finally decided to grant me a respite. It could have been fifteen minutes. It could have been two hours. Being tickled, seemed to have a distorting effect on one’s sense of time. I hung there, gasping for breath and squirming a little as beads of sweat trickled down my body. My cock stuck up at an acute angle, crowned with a tiny, clear droplet of pre-cum.
Danny stepped close to me. He put his hand on my heaving chest and ran his fingers through my dark, damp chest hair. Then he said, “I think it’s time, sweetie, that I explained what this is ACTUALLY all about.”
Nonstop laughter had so thoroughly addled my brains that I did not at first grasp the significance of his statement. But his next words made the situation horrifically clear. “Now that you understand how vulnerable you are to tickling, I’m sure that you wouldn’t mind answering some questions for me, sweetie,” he said, still toying with my chest hair. “Questions concerning Titanicron’s new synthetic fuel formula.”
“W-w-w-what are you TALKING about!?” I cried. “Danny, I thought—I mean you said that you—that we—oh, what are you DOING—?!”
“Well, I can’t deny that I find you attractive, sweetie,” he snickered. His hand strayed down to give my tumid tool a cruelly affectionate squeeze that made me moan and tremble. “But I have to be honest,” he went on. “This is business. You have certain information. I’ve been hired to squeeze it out of you. So this afternoon, you’re going to GIVE me that information. Every single, solitary last scrap of it.”
Danny then proceeded to recite his list of questions. They were detailed, well-researched questions showing that he—or his employers, whoever they were—already knew quite a bit about Titanicron’s secret process. They lacked only a few key pieces of the scientific puzzle—pieces that I could provide.
“You know, sweetie,” Danny whispered, “I could have chosen to use drugs and conventional torture on you. Ever had you balls wired to a car battery?” He put an arm around my waist and began to caress my bare behind. “But then I decided that a less crude approach, playing on certain weaknesses and secret fantasies, might work better in your case. I have an instinct about these things, you see. And as I suspected, it wasn’t hard to lure you into a compromising position.”
I had no reply to that—it was only too true.
“So now, sweetie, I’m going to TICKLE you and TEASE you until one of two things happens,” Danny concluded. “Either you’ll tell me what I want to know or I’ll tickle you and tickle you and fucking TICKLE you until I drive you over the screaming edge of MADNESS—!”
And that was no idle threat—as I was shortly to discover!
“I’ve got something here that I think you’ll find interesting,” Danny snickered. He held up a long, stiff, pointed white feather. “See? And can you guess what I’m going to DO with it?”
My skin crawled with dread as I ran down the list of horrors that Danny could inflict upon me with that fearsome instrument of torture.
“Let’s put it this way,” he explained as he stepped around to stand behind me. “Certain portions of your masculine anatomy are, shall we say, exceedingly DELICATE. For example…”
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” I squealed. He had begun to stroke the supersensitive patch of skin just above my butt cheeks, and it tickled like MAD! “EEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE!!!” I screeched at the absolute fucking TOP of my laboring lungs!
“Want me to go a little LOWER?” Danny inquired with a sadistic giggle.
My only response was to wiggle my ass and redouble the volume of my hilariously agonizing shrieks. And when he DID go lower, stroking the cleft between my butt cheeks with hellish precision, I did my absolute fucking best to turn myself inside fucking OUT—!
“Ready to talk?” Danny whispered. “Tell me what I want to know, sweetie, and I’ll stop.”
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-GAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-YAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I bellowed. My asshole performed rapid spasms as the caressing feather sent jolt after jolt of ticklish electricity shooting straight into my balls and belly. “OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!” I protested as Danny zeroed in on my tightly puckered orifice.
“TELL me, sweetie!” he insisted. “Just TELL me and I’ll stop TICKLING you! TELL me and I’ll let you CUM—!”
“GAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” I howled by way of response. My muscles were convulsing uncontrollably by now, and my sweat glands were working overtime. The tree limb from which I hung creaked in sympathy with my increasingly frenetic struggles. But still I refused to tell darling Danny what he wanted to know! Instead I just laughed. And laughed. And fucking LAUGHED—!
And though Danny didn’t know it, the joke was on him. Because with his unintentional assistance I’d learned something about myself—I’d learned that I positively ADORED what Danny was doing to me! Bondage…tickling…orgasm denial…it was absolutely the sexiest, most KINKY thrill I’d ever experienced! And now I didn’t want it to STOP—!
Though I’ve never asked him about it, I’m quite sure that by that time Danny was well aware of my reason for resisting his demands. And he played along! I’d already decided that I’d give up Titanicron’s secrets at the point when my interrogator grew weary of my stubborn refusal to cooperate and threatened the use of more forceful measures. But Danny just kept TICKLING me!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked as the hellish feather swept forward to stroke my tense, delicate balls. And I positively WAILED when it began to caress the underside of my incredibly rigid fucking COCK—!
“Better not CUM!” Danny whispered, snuggling close—close enough so that the head of his own tumid tool touched the small of my back. He moved the feather back and forth. “If you CUM, sweetie, I’ll just have to give up with the tickling and use some REAL muscle!
By now the head of my yearning member was well lubricated with pre-cum and my balls were quivering with the desperate sensation that immediately precedes orgasm. But I would CONTROL myself! No matter how much I LONGED to empty my balls, I would control the desperate, driving desire to cum my stupid fucking BRAINS out! Because as long as I could control myself, Danny would keep TICKLING me—!
“Does it TICKLE?” Danny whispered with a throaty catch in his voice. With his free hand he was stroking my thigh. He let the feather fall from his fingers and wrapped his fingers around my cock. I arched my back…I wiggled my ass…
And then it was happening! Oh, despite all my struggles to control myself it was HAPPENING as with a joyous grunt of effort, I commenced to cum my fucking BRAINS out! A raging wave of pure ECSTASY swept over me as with Danny’s eager assistance I emptied my balls in a series of powerful, muscular spasms! And from the way he writhed against me, it was clear that Danny was caught up in the moment as well—a fact confirmed just moments later when he squirted all over my fucking BACK—!
Need I add that Danny didn’t need muscle to get the answers to his questions? That evening, in the snug bedroom of the cottage, I told all for the benefit of his portable tape recorder. It proved astonishingly easy to betray my employer while kneeling face to face with Danny at the foot of the bed, both of us stark naked with the swollen heads of our erect cocks just barely touching…
After spilling the corporation’s most precious secret, I knew I wouldn’t have much of a future at Titanicron. All too soon they figured out who sbetrayed them, and I was summarily sacked. But there are compensations. These days I’m taking French lessons, and sweet Danny has proved to be a most demanding tutor. But with the help of a spanking I aced my midterm examination—and my instructor was loud in his praise of my performance. “Oh, SWEETIE!” he cried at one point. “Your tongue is so ROUGH—!”
And I know that you’re wondering—so yes, I’m tickled silly about the direction our relationship has taken since that afternoon under the old oak. And that, dear reader, is no figure of speech!
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