Sherbet Riley
Registered User
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2022
- Messages
- 22
- Points
- 13
LAUGH IN THE BOX - By Sherbet Riley
He’d barely been at it half an hour and already Andy’s shirt was dark and soaked in sweat. Andy had never been particularly athletic, often self-deprecatingly referring to himself as an “indoor kid,” but even he was surprised by just how quickly he’d managed to work up a sweat. The 4th of July had come and gone and his college move-in was right around the corner, leaving Andy wondering just where all that time went.
He’d taken on a summer internship in lieu of a job, believing it to be a good investment in his future if not his bank account. To put a little money in his pocket, his neighbor Amanda had offered Andy some light, part time work. Mostly this amounted to yard work and dog walks for her miniature schnauzer, Remy. The pay wasn’t much, but neither was the work. Today, however, was a little more intensive — moving boxes from Amanda’s attic into her basement. Lots of boxes, lots of stairs. Despite struggling some with this burdensome task, Andy would never complain about spending time with Amanda.
Amanda had come into Andy’s life during an odd period. Shortly after his eleventh birthday, Andy’s father had walked out on him and his mother. Amanda, then a new addition to the neighborhood, had stepped in to babysit Andy whenever his mother was working late.
Andy couldn’t help but develop an intense crush on his new neighbor. Amanda was in her late 20s at the time, fresh out of grad school. She had dirty blonde hair and dressed for comfort, often coming over in a tank top or sundress in the summer, while favoring tight jeans and sweaters in the winter. For years she was the headliner of Andy’s every erotic dream and fantasy. Of course, they were all mostly innocent at first — snuggling on the couch, kissing, getting to see her boobs. But over time his tastes matured, along with his busty neighbor.
You see, Andy liked being tied up. More than that, he specifically liked the idea of being tied up and left at the mercy of an older woman. He had an inkling that should the girls in his class come upon him stretched out on the rack or hogtied on the floor, they wouldn’t know what to do with him. But Amanda? Amanda would know how to tame him, how to break him. She’d know exactly what to say, how to touch him, what he needed.
Of course, Andy would never dare breathe a word of this to her. He’d be too embarrassed. His desires were weird, shameful, and should be kept a secret. Nobody else he knew thought about such things, he believed. In movies, when the evil witch tied up the hero or the sexy cat burglar took a detective hostage, he’d always sit up a little straighter in his seat and worry that everybody had noticed.
By Andy’s count he was about halfway done with the boxes. The task had seemed insurmountable before. He could hardly move around the attic there were so many boxes. Now he was taking confident strides from the access ladder to reach the boxes still left up there. Andy was doing math in his head: he had X number of boxes and Y trips up and down the stairs left before he could “have a talk” with Amanda.
Andy grunted as he put down the latest box, a heavier one he’d struggled to keep hold of on the way down. If he hadn’t already set it down, he’d have dropped it from the shock of what he saw next.
There, in the corner, was a table unlike any Andy had ever seen. The first thing he noticed were the cuffs at the corners. They were leather straps with sturdy looking metal clasps to lock them shut. The inside of the cuffs were lined with fur, white and soft-looking. The table was similarly covered in hair — an oblong lake of white fur, enough to cover the back and rear of whoever was unfortunate (or fortunate) enough to find themselves strapped down.
Andy took a step forward and ran his palm over the soft material. The warmth of the fur contrasted with the cold surface of the leather. The cuffs felt heavy, strong, inevitable. He experimentally slipped his hand inside one of them, pulling on the strap until he felt the cool leather tighten against his wrist. His heart was beating so fast he could feel his pulse through the cuff.
Andy shut his eyes as an unbidden shudder rushed through him. How many times had Amanda strapped someone to this table, had her way with them. He imagined how soft that fur would feel on his back, on his bottom, how tightly the restraints would hold him. If these walls could talk…
“Careful…” a voice behind him warned. “Don’t fall in…”
It was Amanda. Lost in his reverie, Andy hadn’t heard her come down and nearly leaped out of his skin. His wrist wasn’t locked in the cuff but when his body jerked upon hearing her voice the cuff held firm. Thoroughly caught, Andy could do little more than stammer.
“I…I was just — I didn’t…”
Amanda just smiled as she stepped forward and gently helped Andy pull his wrist free of the cuff.
“Like what you see?” She asked, playfully.
“Yes…I mean —“ But Andy’s body had betrayed him even more his mouth did. He was hard, stooping slightly to keep Amanda from noticing, which, of course, she did.
“It’s okay. Naughty little boys always find themselves my table sooner or later. But you’ve always been such a sweet boy…”
She had coaxed Andy’s hand out of the cuff now. He was trembling in her hands and she kept them there.
“Was I wrong? Are you…a naughty little boy, Andrew?”
Andy pulled his hands away from Amanda and ran, tripping over himself as he bolted up the stairs. It was all he could think to do. It wasn’t until he got into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him that his mind caught up to the rest of him. It was all too vivid, too real. Had he dreamed it? No, that was impossible, he was there, he felt the fur, the leather, Amanda’s breath on his face.
His hands moved so quickly he finished himself off twice before he’d even caught his breath.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — —
Andy couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard he tried. His mind kept returning to Amanda’s basement, to the question she had asked him that made his world stand still.
Maybe he was naughty after all.
Thus, Andy slipped out of bed and into the night, creeping across the lawn to Amanda’s. Andy located the basement window, a narrow little thing, miraculously left unlocked. Andy had always been teased for being short for his age, all skin and bones, but it served him quite well in this instance as he managed to squeeze himself through the opening.
Alone again in Amanda’s basement, Andy had little trouble locating the table. His eyes were drawn to it like a magnet, the white fur standing out against the musty dark. Already he was hard again, adjusting himself through his shorts. Andy remained very still, listening for any indication that Amanda was stirring upstairs. The windows had all been dark when he’d circled the house moments ago, but Andy was nervous. It wasn’t like him to be breaking and entering.
After all, he was a good boy.
Unable to contain himself any longer. Removing his shirt, Andy stretched out upon the table. He slipped his wrist through one of the cuffs, tightening it with his free hand before deftly unfastening his shorts. He was already dangerously excited by the white fur warming his back and the tightness around his wrist.
His free hand moved slowly, coaxing his already erect member out from under his underwear. Behind his eyelids, Andy watched his fantasy to unfold. He imagined Amanda confidently walking down the stairs, her eyes wandering over his helpless body. Andy could practically smell the chamomile in her hair, feel the warmth of her fingers. When he finally deigned to open his eyes he nearly had a heart attack.
Amanda was standing above him, a curious smile on her face. It hadn’t been Andy’s imagination. How long had she been standing there?
“Amanda! I-I…you - I can…” Once again, words failed him, crowding his throat with panicked nonsense. He frantically tried to undo his wrist from the locked cuffs but his fingers, trembling with panic and excitement, would not obey him.
Gently, Amanda took his free hand and guided his wrist into the opposite cuff.
“Shhh….shhh…naughty boys don’t get to speak…” If Amanda was angry with him for breaking into her basement she didn’t show it.
“But I-I’m not naughty! I just - I just…”
“Well, only naughty boys find themselves on the tickle table. How do you explain that?”
Amanda didn’t wait for Andy to answer. She finished restraining his hand before making her way to the other end of the table to fasten his ankles in place.
“Amanda, I’m sorry. I - I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just…”
“Wanted to see what would happen?” Amanda threaded the strap through the buckle with practiced ease. Upon feeling the strap tighten around his ankle, Andy gave it an experimental tug. His heart leapt in his chest when he found he could barely bend his knee at all.
Amanda repeated the process with his other ankle as she continued speaking.
“You’re not the first curious little tickle bug to get caught in my web,” Amanda smiled, tightening the final cuff.
“I…I’m not?”
“Nuh uh…” Amanda tutted as she began to gently tug against his laced up sneaker. “Naughty boys like you are always poking their noses where they shouldn’t. Just my luck that you wanted to get caught, isn’t it?”
The sneaker popped off Andy’s heel without much trouble, falling to the concrete floor with a dull thud.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought…I thought I might’ve dropped my…”
“Shhhhh….” Amanda shushed him again as she began to worry the other sneaker off his foot. “No more fibs. Not in here. Mommy knows better than to believe a naughty boy once he’s been caught.”
She tugged his shoe free and rested both her palms against the soles of his socked feet. Andy had to stifle a moan when he felt her hands upon him, the heat radiating off her body through the bottoms of his feet.
“But…” Andy was trying to keep his breathing even so as to not let on just how excited he really was. “…I’m not naughty…”
Amanda began to slowly curl her fingers, raking her nails up the soles of his feet with a maddening, deliberate pace. The soft cotton of his socks gave easily under Amanda’s digits, offering little protection to the sensitive skin beneath.
“Heh…heheheheheheheheeee” Andy giggled, reflexively pulling against the straps that kept his feet in place. The restraints, holding firm, only made his heart beat faster as he realized that there was really nowhere for him to go. “H-hey! T-thahahat tihihihickles!”
“Oh?” Amanda asked, playing dumb. “It does? Does the naughty boy have ticklish itty bitty feetsies?” Her fingers sped up, now spidering over his wriggling soles as she watched him slowly dissolve into giggles.
“Ihihihihihihi’m nahahahahahat nahahahahaughty! Ihihihihihi’m nahahahahahatttt!” Andy giggled, his body contorting on the table as he struggled against his bonds. His imagination had done little to prepare him for just how effectively the cuffs held him in place. While his fantasies had never failed to elicit excitement in the young man, the reality came with a healthy dose of embarrassment and helplessness.
Which only made Andy more aroused.
“Look at these happy widdle feet! Naughty boys always have the most ticklish feet. That’s why they need me to tickle them good! Gitsee gitsee goo!” Amanda taunted, her fingers tweaking his toes through their cotton tombs.
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahamahahahahanda stahahahahahppppihihihihiitttt! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Amanda? Who’s Amanda?” Amanda asked mischievously, never once slowing down her fingers as she spoke. “I think you mean, Missus Tickle Monster!”
“NO! Noohohohohohohohooooo! Thehehehehehere’s nohohohohoho suhuhuhuch thihihihihing ahahahahassss ahahahahahahahaha tihihihihickle mohohohohohohonster! Eeeeeheheheheheheheheheeeee!”
Andy was really bucking now, trying to throw his propel his body away from the ticklish sensations against his soles with all his might, but to no avail.
Amanda smiled down at him all the while. It was evident that her young victim was “enjoying himself” but she couldn’t deny her own pleasure in working over her smart
“Are you suuuuuure? You might not believe in tickle monsters…but we certainly believe in youuuuuuu!”
At this, Amanda’s hands reached for Andy’s bare knees, squeezing them just above the joint with an unbearably ticklish grip. Andy hadn’t had his knees tickled in some time and seemed bewildered by his own ticklish reaction.
“OHOHOHOHOOOOOO! GAH! Stahahahahahahahahahahahahap thahahahahahat! Ahhhhhahahahahahahahahahahaha!
But Amanda refused to stop.
“Knobby Knees! What are these? Tickle him until he pees!”
Andy could only rock himself back and forth desperately, his midsection turning this way and that as he attempted to wrest his knees away from Amanda’s dastardly grip.
“Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Gehehehehehehehehehet ohohohohohohffffff! Eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheeeee!”
“Awww, what’s the matter bubba? Does the naughty boy have naughty kneeeees? Naughty knees are da tickle monster’’s favorite! Just a little squeeze!” Amanda sing-songed, gave his knees an extra ticklish pulse for emphasis. “Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze these knees so he ‘Tee-Hees!”
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Andy didn’t remember his knees being this ticklish. Whenever someone had tickled them in the past — either through the “nervous game” or a quick goosing — he’d always been able to pull away. The ticklish sensation would only last for a moment or two. But now, strapped to Amanda’s tickle table, he was forced to confront just how sensitive they really were.
“Lehehehehehehehehehettt gohohohohoooooo! Plehehehehehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahahahamahahahahahahanddddaaaaaaahahahahaaaaaa!”
Andy could feel his back beginning to sweat as his neck grew hot from his feeble pleading. The fur beneath him began to absorb the moisture, adhering to his damp skin until even his most feverish bucking could not separate him from the surface of Amanda’s slab.
“You keep calling out for this Amanda woman! She must be quite something if you keep asking for her. But Amanda isn’t here, naughty boy. There’s only the tickle monster. If you ask the tickle monster to stop…maybe she’ll hear you.”
Andy didn’t want to address “the tickle monster.” That would be too infantile, too humiliating. But the words kept creeping up his throat, hiding near the back of his tongue. The idea of speaking the words out loud, like an incantation, only served to make his shorts feel tighter. But Andy’s threshold for pride had diminished since laying upon the table, the fantasy too tantalizing, Amanda’s voice too appealing.
“Plehehehehehehehehehehehease Mihihihihihisssus tihihihihihihickle mohohohohohonster! Plehehehehehehehehease lehehehehehet gohohohohohohooooo ohohohohohohohohof mihihihihihiyyyy nahahahahahahahahaughty kneeeeeheheheheheees!”
Amanda’s hands pull away from Andy’s knees, allowing the breathless young man a reprieve. Sweat was trickling down his temples and his heart was pounding in his chest. He weakly tugged as his restraints, unable to even wipe his own face.
Amanda’s shadow fell across his naked chest as she rounded the table to take her position by Andy’s head. Her hands wiped the perspiration from his brow, linger just long enough to skitter her fingers under his chin. Andy tucked his chin but already the giggles had escaped.
“Eheheheheheheeee…”
“Naughty boys should know better than to call for the tickle monster by name…”
“Nuh — but I…I didn’t…” Andy whined, playing along. Amanda’s playful malevolence went above and beyond any of his midnight fantasies. His shorts could barely contain his excitement.
“Oh yes you did, buster.” She tutted, nodding at his tented shorts. “Now the naughty boy has to pay the penalty!”
With great theatricality and menace, Amanda hovered her splayed fingers over Andy’s naked torso. Slowly, slowly, her hands began to lower, descending closer and closer to his exposed underarms. The overhead light, however dim, cast spider-like shadows across his chest, the phantom legs teasing under Andy’s jaw and collarbone as they drew closer…
And closer…
The anticipation was killing him. It would have been easier if Amanda had just gone in for the kill. But naughty boys didn’t get to do things the easy way, did they?
“Naughty boys need to learn their lesson, don’t they?” Amanda teased, seemingly reading her young victim’s mind. “What happens to naughty boys, Andy? Hmm? Tell me.”
“Naughty boys…” Andy mumbled, weakly. His voice sounded so small, so inconsequential, he felt his cheeks burn anew. “Get tickled…by the tickle monster…”
“That’s right.” Amanda smiled. “Good boy.”
Her hands dropped from above like stones. They settled in the wispy hair of his underarms, fingers curling and teasing as they burrowed and poked and elicited squeals from the young man, for that was all her could offer now. Shrieks and cries of piteous, ticklish laughter.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHONSTER! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT MIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIYYYY AHAHAHAHAHRMMMMPPPIIIITS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”
“Such a good boy! Asking da tickle monsta so sweet and niiiiice! But, uh oh, you can’t be a good boy. Good boys don’t get tickled! Only naughty boys get gitsee’d until they giggle themselves red like a happy widdle strawbewy!”
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’M AHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOOOOD BOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOY! IHIHIHIHIHIHI SWEHEHEHEHEHEAR IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAM! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEHEHEEEE GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOD! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!”
Amanda’s fingers blurred as the pads of her fingertips began to type out little love notes to her favorite neighbor along his taut and vulnerable armpits. Indeed, Andy’s face had turned red. Closer to a tomato than a strawberry, but Amanda didn’t seem to mind.
“Aww, someone’s tummy tumm tumm looks lonewee…”
Without ceasing her ticklish ministrations upon the poor boy’s underarms, Amanda bent at the waist and placed her pursed lips upon Andy’s trembling tummy. Bending as she did caused the considerable weight of her breasts to land upon Andy’s hysterical face, momentarily muting him as she blew a terribly ticklish raspberry.
“PBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!”
Andy’s body went rigid as he screamed into Amanda’s ample chest, shaking his head back and forth manically, causing them to jiggle. Amanda pulled her head away from Andy’s stomach for a moment to take another deep breath and noticed just how hard Andy really was. He was loving this.
Amanda brought her lips to Andy’s stomach once more, and blew.
“MHMHMHMHMHMHHMHMHMHMHMHMPH! HMMMMMMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMMMM-HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEANIE! OHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”
Andy gasped for air, suddenly audible once more as Amanda pulled back from his stomach without ever once slowing the fingers in her poor victim’s sensitive hollows. The fur against Andy’s back was sopping wet now, itching and torturing him in subtle ways that pushed his mind even further toward the edge.
“But how can I stop when it makes my little tickle bug so happeeeeeee?”
Amanda was rubbing her thumbs up and down his armpits now, almost as if she were giving them a massage. Andy went berserk.
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEEE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOD BOHOHOHOHOY! NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHOHOHONSTER! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!”
Andy’s mind went somewhere else for a moment, removed from any space or time he’d ever known. His lungs burned, sucking in air between the moments that Amanda’s fingers made contact with his skin. He almost didn’t notice when her hands retreated, so preoccupied was he with staying conscious.
She gently unzipped his shorts and allowed his erection to bloom from behind the open fly. Amanda whispered encouraging words into Andy’s ear as she undid the cuff around his left wrist. She told him it was over, that he was a good boy, that he deserved a reward for all his hard work.
Amanda stayed by his head, kissing the tears from his cheeks and teasing his ears with her fingernails as his newly freed hand flew beneath his shorts.
“Show me…” Amanda whispered, kissing the top of his head as she watched him pleasure himself. “Show me what my good boy does…cum for me….come for me my good, good boy.”
She didn’t need to wait long. The words, uttered like a spell, caused Andy’s body to pull forcefully against his restraints as his hand sent him spiraling over the edge. The restraints made him feel safe to let his moans out freely, to allow the pleasure to possess him like a spirit. His butt rose from the table as his eyes squeezed shut, unable to do much more than speak in rapturous tongues as he felt warmth erupt from him like a volcano.
When it was over, Amanda undid his remaining restraints. When he’d caught his breath, once he’d hydrated and gathered his things, Amanda intended to ask her young, exhausted when he might be available to stop by again. She imagined he’d take little convincing, especially when he learned of the task at hand: Helping Amanda move the table out of the basement…
…and into her bedroom.
He’d barely been at it half an hour and already Andy’s shirt was dark and soaked in sweat. Andy had never been particularly athletic, often self-deprecatingly referring to himself as an “indoor kid,” but even he was surprised by just how quickly he’d managed to work up a sweat. The 4th of July had come and gone and his college move-in was right around the corner, leaving Andy wondering just where all that time went.
He’d taken on a summer internship in lieu of a job, believing it to be a good investment in his future if not his bank account. To put a little money in his pocket, his neighbor Amanda had offered Andy some light, part time work. Mostly this amounted to yard work and dog walks for her miniature schnauzer, Remy. The pay wasn’t much, but neither was the work. Today, however, was a little more intensive — moving boxes from Amanda’s attic into her basement. Lots of boxes, lots of stairs. Despite struggling some with this burdensome task, Andy would never complain about spending time with Amanda.
Amanda had come into Andy’s life during an odd period. Shortly after his eleventh birthday, Andy’s father had walked out on him and his mother. Amanda, then a new addition to the neighborhood, had stepped in to babysit Andy whenever his mother was working late.
Andy couldn’t help but develop an intense crush on his new neighbor. Amanda was in her late 20s at the time, fresh out of grad school. She had dirty blonde hair and dressed for comfort, often coming over in a tank top or sundress in the summer, while favoring tight jeans and sweaters in the winter. For years she was the headliner of Andy’s every erotic dream and fantasy. Of course, they were all mostly innocent at first — snuggling on the couch, kissing, getting to see her boobs. But over time his tastes matured, along with his busty neighbor.
You see, Andy liked being tied up. More than that, he specifically liked the idea of being tied up and left at the mercy of an older woman. He had an inkling that should the girls in his class come upon him stretched out on the rack or hogtied on the floor, they wouldn’t know what to do with him. But Amanda? Amanda would know how to tame him, how to break him. She’d know exactly what to say, how to touch him, what he needed.
Of course, Andy would never dare breathe a word of this to her. He’d be too embarrassed. His desires were weird, shameful, and should be kept a secret. Nobody else he knew thought about such things, he believed. In movies, when the evil witch tied up the hero or the sexy cat burglar took a detective hostage, he’d always sit up a little straighter in his seat and worry that everybody had noticed.
By Andy’s count he was about halfway done with the boxes. The task had seemed insurmountable before. He could hardly move around the attic there were so many boxes. Now he was taking confident strides from the access ladder to reach the boxes still left up there. Andy was doing math in his head: he had X number of boxes and Y trips up and down the stairs left before he could “have a talk” with Amanda.
Andy grunted as he put down the latest box, a heavier one he’d struggled to keep hold of on the way down. If he hadn’t already set it down, he’d have dropped it from the shock of what he saw next.
There, in the corner, was a table unlike any Andy had ever seen. The first thing he noticed were the cuffs at the corners. They were leather straps with sturdy looking metal clasps to lock them shut. The inside of the cuffs were lined with fur, white and soft-looking. The table was similarly covered in hair — an oblong lake of white fur, enough to cover the back and rear of whoever was unfortunate (or fortunate) enough to find themselves strapped down.
Andy took a step forward and ran his palm over the soft material. The warmth of the fur contrasted with the cold surface of the leather. The cuffs felt heavy, strong, inevitable. He experimentally slipped his hand inside one of them, pulling on the strap until he felt the cool leather tighten against his wrist. His heart was beating so fast he could feel his pulse through the cuff.
Andy shut his eyes as an unbidden shudder rushed through him. How many times had Amanda strapped someone to this table, had her way with them. He imagined how soft that fur would feel on his back, on his bottom, how tightly the restraints would hold him. If these walls could talk…
“Careful…” a voice behind him warned. “Don’t fall in…”
It was Amanda. Lost in his reverie, Andy hadn’t heard her come down and nearly leaped out of his skin. His wrist wasn’t locked in the cuff but when his body jerked upon hearing her voice the cuff held firm. Thoroughly caught, Andy could do little more than stammer.
“I…I was just — I didn’t…”
Amanda just smiled as she stepped forward and gently helped Andy pull his wrist free of the cuff.
“Like what you see?” She asked, playfully.
“Yes…I mean —“ But Andy’s body had betrayed him even more his mouth did. He was hard, stooping slightly to keep Amanda from noticing, which, of course, she did.
“It’s okay. Naughty little boys always find themselves my table sooner or later. But you’ve always been such a sweet boy…”
She had coaxed Andy’s hand out of the cuff now. He was trembling in her hands and she kept them there.
“Was I wrong? Are you…a naughty little boy, Andrew?”
Andy pulled his hands away from Amanda and ran, tripping over himself as he bolted up the stairs. It was all he could think to do. It wasn’t until he got into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him that his mind caught up to the rest of him. It was all too vivid, too real. Had he dreamed it? No, that was impossible, he was there, he felt the fur, the leather, Amanda’s breath on his face.
His hands moved so quickly he finished himself off twice before he’d even caught his breath.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — —
Andy couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard he tried. His mind kept returning to Amanda’s basement, to the question she had asked him that made his world stand still.
Maybe he was naughty after all.
Thus, Andy slipped out of bed and into the night, creeping across the lawn to Amanda’s. Andy located the basement window, a narrow little thing, miraculously left unlocked. Andy had always been teased for being short for his age, all skin and bones, but it served him quite well in this instance as he managed to squeeze himself through the opening.
Alone again in Amanda’s basement, Andy had little trouble locating the table. His eyes were drawn to it like a magnet, the white fur standing out against the musty dark. Already he was hard again, adjusting himself through his shorts. Andy remained very still, listening for any indication that Amanda was stirring upstairs. The windows had all been dark when he’d circled the house moments ago, but Andy was nervous. It wasn’t like him to be breaking and entering.
After all, he was a good boy.
Unable to contain himself any longer. Removing his shirt, Andy stretched out upon the table. He slipped his wrist through one of the cuffs, tightening it with his free hand before deftly unfastening his shorts. He was already dangerously excited by the white fur warming his back and the tightness around his wrist.
His free hand moved slowly, coaxing his already erect member out from under his underwear. Behind his eyelids, Andy watched his fantasy to unfold. He imagined Amanda confidently walking down the stairs, her eyes wandering over his helpless body. Andy could practically smell the chamomile in her hair, feel the warmth of her fingers. When he finally deigned to open his eyes he nearly had a heart attack.
Amanda was standing above him, a curious smile on her face. It hadn’t been Andy’s imagination. How long had she been standing there?
“Amanda! I-I…you - I can…” Once again, words failed him, crowding his throat with panicked nonsense. He frantically tried to undo his wrist from the locked cuffs but his fingers, trembling with panic and excitement, would not obey him.
Gently, Amanda took his free hand and guided his wrist into the opposite cuff.
“Shhh….shhh…naughty boys don’t get to speak…” If Amanda was angry with him for breaking into her basement she didn’t show it.
“But I-I’m not naughty! I just - I just…”
“Well, only naughty boys find themselves on the tickle table. How do you explain that?”
Amanda didn’t wait for Andy to answer. She finished restraining his hand before making her way to the other end of the table to fasten his ankles in place.
“Amanda, I’m sorry. I - I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just…”
“Wanted to see what would happen?” Amanda threaded the strap through the buckle with practiced ease. Upon feeling the strap tighten around his ankle, Andy gave it an experimental tug. His heart leapt in his chest when he found he could barely bend his knee at all.
Amanda repeated the process with his other ankle as she continued speaking.
“You’re not the first curious little tickle bug to get caught in my web,” Amanda smiled, tightening the final cuff.
“I…I’m not?”
“Nuh uh…” Amanda tutted as she began to gently tug against his laced up sneaker. “Naughty boys like you are always poking their noses where they shouldn’t. Just my luck that you wanted to get caught, isn’t it?”
The sneaker popped off Andy’s heel without much trouble, falling to the concrete floor with a dull thud.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought…I thought I might’ve dropped my…”
“Shhhhh….” Amanda shushed him again as she began to worry the other sneaker off his foot. “No more fibs. Not in here. Mommy knows better than to believe a naughty boy once he’s been caught.”
She tugged his shoe free and rested both her palms against the soles of his socked feet. Andy had to stifle a moan when he felt her hands upon him, the heat radiating off her body through the bottoms of his feet.
“But…” Andy was trying to keep his breathing even so as to not let on just how excited he really was. “…I’m not naughty…”
Amanda began to slowly curl her fingers, raking her nails up the soles of his feet with a maddening, deliberate pace. The soft cotton of his socks gave easily under Amanda’s digits, offering little protection to the sensitive skin beneath.
“Heh…heheheheheheheheeee” Andy giggled, reflexively pulling against the straps that kept his feet in place. The restraints, holding firm, only made his heart beat faster as he realized that there was really nowhere for him to go. “H-hey! T-thahahat tihihihickles!”
“Oh?” Amanda asked, playing dumb. “It does? Does the naughty boy have ticklish itty bitty feetsies?” Her fingers sped up, now spidering over his wriggling soles as she watched him slowly dissolve into giggles.
“Ihihihihihihi’m nahahahahahat nahahahahaughty! Ihihihihihi’m nahahahahahatttt!” Andy giggled, his body contorting on the table as he struggled against his bonds. His imagination had done little to prepare him for just how effectively the cuffs held him in place. While his fantasies had never failed to elicit excitement in the young man, the reality came with a healthy dose of embarrassment and helplessness.
Which only made Andy more aroused.
“Look at these happy widdle feet! Naughty boys always have the most ticklish feet. That’s why they need me to tickle them good! Gitsee gitsee goo!” Amanda taunted, her fingers tweaking his toes through their cotton tombs.
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahamahahahahanda stahahahahahppppihihihihiitttt! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Amanda? Who’s Amanda?” Amanda asked mischievously, never once slowing down her fingers as she spoke. “I think you mean, Missus Tickle Monster!”
“NO! Noohohohohohohohooooo! Thehehehehehere’s nohohohohoho suhuhuhuch thihihihihing ahahahahassss ahahahahahahahaha tihihihihickle mohohohohohohonster! Eeeeeheheheheheheheheheeeee!”
Andy was really bucking now, trying to throw his propel his body away from the ticklish sensations against his soles with all his might, but to no avail.
Amanda smiled down at him all the while. It was evident that her young victim was “enjoying himself” but she couldn’t deny her own pleasure in working over her smart
“Are you suuuuuure? You might not believe in tickle monsters…but we certainly believe in youuuuuuu!”
At this, Amanda’s hands reached for Andy’s bare knees, squeezing them just above the joint with an unbearably ticklish grip. Andy hadn’t had his knees tickled in some time and seemed bewildered by his own ticklish reaction.
“OHOHOHOHOOOOOO! GAH! Stahahahahahahahahahahahahap thahahahahahat! Ahhhhhahahahahahahahahahahaha!
But Amanda refused to stop.
“Knobby Knees! What are these? Tickle him until he pees!”
Andy could only rock himself back and forth desperately, his midsection turning this way and that as he attempted to wrest his knees away from Amanda’s dastardly grip.
“Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Gehehehehehehehehehet ohohohohohohffffff! Eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheeeee!”
“Awww, what’s the matter bubba? Does the naughty boy have naughty kneeeees? Naughty knees are da tickle monster’’s favorite! Just a little squeeze!” Amanda sing-songed, gave his knees an extra ticklish pulse for emphasis. “Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze these knees so he ‘Tee-Hees!”
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Andy didn’t remember his knees being this ticklish. Whenever someone had tickled them in the past — either through the “nervous game” or a quick goosing — he’d always been able to pull away. The ticklish sensation would only last for a moment or two. But now, strapped to Amanda’s tickle table, he was forced to confront just how sensitive they really were.
“Lehehehehehehehehehettt gohohohohoooooo! Plehehehehehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahahahamahahahahahahanddddaaaaaaahahahahaaaaaa!”
Andy could feel his back beginning to sweat as his neck grew hot from his feeble pleading. The fur beneath him began to absorb the moisture, adhering to his damp skin until even his most feverish bucking could not separate him from the surface of Amanda’s slab.
“You keep calling out for this Amanda woman! She must be quite something if you keep asking for her. But Amanda isn’t here, naughty boy. There’s only the tickle monster. If you ask the tickle monster to stop…maybe she’ll hear you.”
Andy didn’t want to address “the tickle monster.” That would be too infantile, too humiliating. But the words kept creeping up his throat, hiding near the back of his tongue. The idea of speaking the words out loud, like an incantation, only served to make his shorts feel tighter. But Andy’s threshold for pride had diminished since laying upon the table, the fantasy too tantalizing, Amanda’s voice too appealing.
“Plehehehehehehehehehehehease Mihihihihihisssus tihihihihihihickle mohohohohohonster! Plehehehehehehehehease lehehehehehet gohohohohohohooooo ohohohohohohohohof mihihihihihiyyyy nahahahahahahahahaughty kneeeeeheheheheheees!”
Amanda’s hands pull away from Andy’s knees, allowing the breathless young man a reprieve. Sweat was trickling down his temples and his heart was pounding in his chest. He weakly tugged as his restraints, unable to even wipe his own face.
Amanda’s shadow fell across his naked chest as she rounded the table to take her position by Andy’s head. Her hands wiped the perspiration from his brow, linger just long enough to skitter her fingers under his chin. Andy tucked his chin but already the giggles had escaped.
“Eheheheheheheeee…”
“Naughty boys should know better than to call for the tickle monster by name…”
“Nuh — but I…I didn’t…” Andy whined, playing along. Amanda’s playful malevolence went above and beyond any of his midnight fantasies. His shorts could barely contain his excitement.
“Oh yes you did, buster.” She tutted, nodding at his tented shorts. “Now the naughty boy has to pay the penalty!”
With great theatricality and menace, Amanda hovered her splayed fingers over Andy’s naked torso. Slowly, slowly, her hands began to lower, descending closer and closer to his exposed underarms. The overhead light, however dim, cast spider-like shadows across his chest, the phantom legs teasing under Andy’s jaw and collarbone as they drew closer…
And closer…
The anticipation was killing him. It would have been easier if Amanda had just gone in for the kill. But naughty boys didn’t get to do things the easy way, did they?
“Naughty boys need to learn their lesson, don’t they?” Amanda teased, seemingly reading her young victim’s mind. “What happens to naughty boys, Andy? Hmm? Tell me.”
“Naughty boys…” Andy mumbled, weakly. His voice sounded so small, so inconsequential, he felt his cheeks burn anew. “Get tickled…by the tickle monster…”
“That’s right.” Amanda smiled. “Good boy.”
Her hands dropped from above like stones. They settled in the wispy hair of his underarms, fingers curling and teasing as they burrowed and poked and elicited squeals from the young man, for that was all her could offer now. Shrieks and cries of piteous, ticklish laughter.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHONSTER! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT MIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIYYYY AHAHAHAHAHRMMMMPPPIIIITS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”
“Such a good boy! Asking da tickle monsta so sweet and niiiiice! But, uh oh, you can’t be a good boy. Good boys don’t get tickled! Only naughty boys get gitsee’d until they giggle themselves red like a happy widdle strawbewy!”
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’M AHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOOOOD BOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOY! IHIHIHIHIHIHI SWEHEHEHEHEHEAR IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAM! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEHEHEEEE GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOD! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!”
Amanda’s fingers blurred as the pads of her fingertips began to type out little love notes to her favorite neighbor along his taut and vulnerable armpits. Indeed, Andy’s face had turned red. Closer to a tomato than a strawberry, but Amanda didn’t seem to mind.
“Aww, someone’s tummy tumm tumm looks lonewee…”
Without ceasing her ticklish ministrations upon the poor boy’s underarms, Amanda bent at the waist and placed her pursed lips upon Andy’s trembling tummy. Bending as she did caused the considerable weight of her breasts to land upon Andy’s hysterical face, momentarily muting him as she blew a terribly ticklish raspberry.
“PBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!”
Andy’s body went rigid as he screamed into Amanda’s ample chest, shaking his head back and forth manically, causing them to jiggle. Amanda pulled her head away from Andy’s stomach for a moment to take another deep breath and noticed just how hard Andy really was. He was loving this.
Amanda brought her lips to Andy’s stomach once more, and blew.
“MHMHMHMHMHMHHMHMHMHMHMHMPH! HMMMMMMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMMMM-HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEANIE! OHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”
Andy gasped for air, suddenly audible once more as Amanda pulled back from his stomach without ever once slowing the fingers in her poor victim’s sensitive hollows. The fur against Andy’s back was sopping wet now, itching and torturing him in subtle ways that pushed his mind even further toward the edge.
“But how can I stop when it makes my little tickle bug so happeeeeeee?”
Amanda was rubbing her thumbs up and down his armpits now, almost as if she were giving them a massage. Andy went berserk.
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEEE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOD BOHOHOHOHOY! NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHOHOHONSTER! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!”
Andy’s mind went somewhere else for a moment, removed from any space or time he’d ever known. His lungs burned, sucking in air between the moments that Amanda’s fingers made contact with his skin. He almost didn’t notice when her hands retreated, so preoccupied was he with staying conscious.
She gently unzipped his shorts and allowed his erection to bloom from behind the open fly. Amanda whispered encouraging words into Andy’s ear as she undid the cuff around his left wrist. She told him it was over, that he was a good boy, that he deserved a reward for all his hard work.
Amanda stayed by his head, kissing the tears from his cheeks and teasing his ears with her fingernails as his newly freed hand flew beneath his shorts.
“Show me…” Amanda whispered, kissing the top of his head as she watched him pleasure himself. “Show me what my good boy does…cum for me….come for me my good, good boy.”
She didn’t need to wait long. The words, uttered like a spell, caused Andy’s body to pull forcefully against his restraints as his hand sent him spiraling over the edge. The restraints made him feel safe to let his moans out freely, to allow the pleasure to possess him like a spirit. His butt rose from the table as his eyes squeezed shut, unable to do much more than speak in rapturous tongues as he felt warmth erupt from him like a volcano.
When it was over, Amanda undid his remaining restraints. When he’d caught his breath, once he’d hydrated and gathered his things, Amanda intended to ask her young, exhausted when he might be available to stop by again. She imagined he’d take little convincing, especially when he learned of the task at hand: Helping Amanda move the table out of the basement…
…and into her bedroom.
