Omega House:
(A Prologue to: “The Tickle Wrestling Federation”)
Kyle approached the frat house at the end of the street as instructed. He had never met anybody from Omega House, but the word around campus was that if a team or a group or even two individuals had beef, they had the most creative and effective ways of settling it. The football team had, reportedly , gone from a losing streak to winning the last three championship games because of their ability to cut to the core of people’s differences and settle them.
This is exactly what Mike and Nate, the two wrestlers that Kyle managed, needed.
They were clearly top talent, ready to break into the big leagues, but every time they worked together as a tag team, (Which was their most profitable venture), they got their asses handed to them. And then would begin the blame game, one of them constantly accused the other of being “distracted” every match and costing the team. Distracted in the “carrying your books in front of you" kind of way. The accused; accused the other right back. Accused him of hypocrisy for having the same “issue". It was to the point where “The Iron Boys", would inevitably break up if something wasn’t done soon.
And so, they went to Omega House to settle things, to see if they could work their magic and just what kind of magic they worked.
Kyle entered with Mike and Nate, and was escorted to a basement that looked something like a medieval torture chamber.
“C'mon man, this is weird, just let us fight it out" Mike said incredulously.
“Yeah", replied Nate, “This looks like something out of medieval times”.
Kyle growled at both of them. “You guys are the ones who are letting your little pissing contest ruin our chances of going national! I’m not letting you injure your reputations as friends or injure each other to settle it. You’re worth too much money to me as a tag team! These guys allowed us to come here and use their talents to settle your little squabble now shut up and listen to them! “
Nate and Mike both huffed and puffed and grumbled at being talked to like this, but he was their manager and a damn good one.
The entourage here were all dressed in black hoods , robes exposing their chests and bare feet.
One of them, a noticeably handsome frat boy, even from under his hood, explained.
“We'll take the two boys in question and interview them in separate rooms. Once we’ve gotten to the heart of the disagreement, we’ll know what kind of procedures to implement.
What could of be described as “servants” appeared, Kyle assumed they were pledges. They were connected, male and female, by chains that ran from their wrists and ankles and, dear lord, it looked like also their nipples and… nether regions?
The guys were right, this was weird. But, desperate times called for desperate measures.
The “servants" escorted Nate and Mike into separate rooms.
Kyle never did hear the interviews but he didn’t need to, he knew well enough what the issue was.
Mike would develop an unexpected “wardrobe issue" mid match and allow it to distract him.
This had a knock-on effect of distracting Nate and the two would get clobbered toward the end of the match. Both guys blaming each other for the “issue".
“You have no self control!” Nate would scream. To which Mike would retort “worry about your own boner *bro*
About an hour went by before Kyle was allowed back in the “dungeon”. The interviews over, Mike and Nate were each naked and strapped to a “rack" next to each other, their arms over their heads and feet apart.
One member of Omega House sat at Nate's feet, another at Mike’s. The man who, apparently was the leader; at least of this “procedure" said:
“Okay, so both of you think you’re great at controlling your selves, fine. Either one of you, just let me know when you want to give up. You can beg for mercy, but only the words “I quit” will stop the torture.”
“Torture"? Both Mike and Nate said at the same time.
At this, a “servant” appeared at the feet of both guys, each holding a bright blue le feather.
“Oh no… no, not that!” Exclaimed Nate, panicked.
The leader explained: “You’ll each have a chance to give up at the beginning of the round, if you don’t, you’ll be tickled mercilessly for an allotted time. Each round the time increases, understand?”
Both guys nodded in disbelief.
“Then we’ll begin. Five minutes. Do either of you want to give up?”
“No way!” said Mike.
Nate responded: “Please! I’m really ticklish on my FHA HA HA HA HA HA NOT WITH THA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA"
Mike looked over and grinned, watching his partner get tortured.
“How long can you hold out buddy? Let’s hope it’s longer than it takes for you to get a bone- eeee he he he he he he he he"
The “servant" started in on Mike’s feet, running the soft feather back and forth over the balls of his feet and up and down his soles.
Mike descended I to giggles. It wasn’t a full on TANTRUM like Nate was having, he was already begging and in tears. But it was pretty unbearable.
“No, no, no he he he he he he c'mon sta HA ha ha hap!”
The leader asked “Who's gonna give up first?”
Nate burst out “PLEASE PLEASE NO MO HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA… I CAN’T STAND IT HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! PLEASE EASE UP ON THE SOLES HA HA HA HA!”
Of course that’s where his tormentor focused after that comment.
Nate BEGGED for the rest of the time while Mike had giggle fits, but mostly enjoyed watching his shit talking partner suffer, not to mention watching a pretty feather gliding over his bare feet.
*DING*
The round ended.
Mike was a little out of breath but Nate was an absolute MESS.
“Do either of you want to give up?”
Mike shook his head, no and somewhat to his surprise, so did Nate.
The leader giggled to him self and Mike noticed that both he and his partner were sporting hard-ons
“You’re doing it again!’ Nate exclaimed “You can’t control your self for one se…”
He stopped this line of attack when he noticed his own.
Mike giggled “problem buddy?”
“Hey, I was just tickled on my worst spot for five straight minutes. It’s a natural response, what’s your excuse?”
“My feet are ticklish too!”
“Yeah right, you weren’t screaming and begging. You’re just always like this!”
The leader broke in: “Do we need to gag you boys?”
The two became silent.
“Do either of you want to give up?”
Both replied “no".
The leader nodded.
“NAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA, PLEASE! PLEASE! DON'T DO IT!” Nate exclaimed. He was totally beside him self. His “servant" was using hair brushes, RAKING them in a back and forth motion, up and down the length of his bare feet! Tears HEMORAGED from his eyes and he descended into silent laughter..
Mike’s feet were receiving the same treatment and he BELLOWED.
Nate could hear better now that he had stopped screaming and couldn’t catch his breath to make a sound. He pulled his hair and squirmed trying to take it. He wanted so badly to submit but he couldn’t even get a breath. Beside him he heard:
“NO! HAAAA HA HA HA HA HA C'MON MAN NOT MY PITS! HA HA HA AH HA HA HA HA!”
At this, Nate him self felt someone resting their fingers on his soft armpits and then going to town on every inch of them.
He got a breath and SCREAMED “I GIVE UUUUP HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
BUT his tormentors didn’t show him an ounce of mercy for the next three full minutes as the guy's feet and armpits were worked over expertly.
*DING*
Nate hated it but he had to submit, he couldn’t take another round”.
“I give up" he whimpered.
“Good. We’re off to a good start”. The leader said.
“Start?” the two said in unison.
“We can tell from the tent poles you guys are sporting that you enjoy watching each other suffer. Now we get to the issue of who has more self control.
A servant turned on the big screen TV that was within view of the guys and a member of
Omega House sat at either side of them and began jerking them off.
On the screen was a game of “cock hero" that was playing on Pornhub and broadcast over the TV. The game was like guitar hero except each guy was jersey to the rhythm of the beat, which varied in speed and intensity.
It was explained that the issue between these two guys, at its core, was that they both believed that the other had no “self control" and so here they were putting it to the test.
Both boys groaned and barked out “fuck!” when the best went into overdrive.
At present it was very fast and hard. The guys to either side of them teased “hold out tough guy, don’t give up now after talking all that shit".
Two more guys came over and started searching each of the contestants for exogenous zones.
The raven haired boy named Mike was quickly discovered to be extremely sensitive on his nipples, the second “assistant" now gently rubbing them constantly.
“OOooooooh FUUUUUCK" Mike exclaimed in a GROAN as the first assistants stroked him
hard and fast to the rhythm of the game”.
An onlooker referred to his opponent, Nate and said “maybe his feet, rub his feet they were really ticklish so that might mean...”
Nate's second assistant did just that, gently massaging and playing with the soles of his feet.
Nate eyes rolled back into his head and he also let out a loud groan! Babbling some variation of “ooh yeah, on my feet, that feel so good".
One of the first assistants taunted “you guys gonna blow your loads? Huh? Soooo much self control, look at you".
Mike’s second assistant started licking and biting his nipples while Nate's began kissing his soft, bare feet.
The beat slowed and both guys were being stroked slowly and methodically, making them squirm and beg, which was funny since it was the game's doing and there was really no one to plead with.
“You guys can’t hold out" one of the onlookers teased. “Those nipples really sensitive buddy?”
– “How does that feel on your bare feet. Man, he looks like he’s hypnotized!”
The beat sped up to medium difficulty and manly grunts between their clenched teeth of
“Aaah" and “Aah fuck-" became more and more common.
“Gonna blow buddy?” the first assistants taunted.
Both guys, in a strained, quivering voice and between their teeth, grunted “NO!” At almost exactly the same time. Both of their eyes were shut tight , both trying with everything they had to concentrate on not blowing their load.
The beat wen into high hear as the second assistant started licking and gently biting Nate's feet.
Mike’s stepped up, licking and rubbing his nipples.
Both guys let out longer and longer moans and groans, both sounding like they were seconds away from Cuming!
Nate's second assistant started planting little kisses up and down his feet in time with the music. He even started TICKLING his feet a little bit!
In a throaty, pathetic voice Nate said flatly; “I’m goanna cum".
The first assistant grinned and STOPPED DEAD, taking his hand off of Nate’s dick, RUINING his climax while the second assistant continued playing with his feet and kissing them.
Nate whimpered: “No, no, no, no pleeeeease, noooooo pleeeease".
A THICK *ROPE* of cum shot from him with nothing contacting his dick. And then another, and another, and ANOTHER!
Mike was laughing at him. “That's a lot of self control you got there buddy, God damn! It's almost hitting the ceiling.
Nate’s orgasm eventually died down and he was nearly sobbing, not getting the intense satisfaction that he was SO close to.
“Okay buddy" said the lead arbiter. “ That settles it. You’re the one who needs to keep his mind on the game and quit worrying about Mike here. Take a few minutes to compose your self and recover and then come over here, kiss his feet and suck his dick, he needs some relief and unlike you, he deserves it.”
Nate was incredulous but a tiny bit eager. Mike was a good looking guy and he could think of worse things than that dick or those feet.
As Nate got to “work” on his buddy Kyle knew that the tension between these two guys had been alleviated .
A senior member of Omega House approached Kyle, stuffed a bundle of papers into his arms and said “Your guys are cute, I think they’d do well here”, and walked away.
The papers were a contract for the two wrestlers to participate in something called the “Tickle Wrestling Federation”, a mixed, male vs female tickle wrestling exposition that Omega
House controlled and which took place in secret to elite clientele. The contract contained an advance that would make the three of them very well off.
Kyle was sure that the two would agree to the terms as soon as they “finished”, even despite the fact that they would have to endure what seemed to be their biggest weakness on a weekly basis.
(To be continued in the TWF series)
(A Prologue to: “The Tickle Wrestling Federation”)
Kyle approached the frat house at the end of the street as instructed. He had never met anybody from Omega House, but the word around campus was that if a team or a group or even two individuals had beef, they had the most creative and effective ways of settling it. The football team had, reportedly , gone from a losing streak to winning the last three championship games because of their ability to cut to the core of people’s differences and settle them.
This is exactly what Mike and Nate, the two wrestlers that Kyle managed, needed.
They were clearly top talent, ready to break into the big leagues, but every time they worked together as a tag team, (Which was their most profitable venture), they got their asses handed to them. And then would begin the blame game, one of them constantly accused the other of being “distracted” every match and costing the team. Distracted in the “carrying your books in front of you" kind of way. The accused; accused the other right back. Accused him of hypocrisy for having the same “issue". It was to the point where “The Iron Boys", would inevitably break up if something wasn’t done soon.
And so, they went to Omega House to settle things, to see if they could work their magic and just what kind of magic they worked.
Kyle entered with Mike and Nate, and was escorted to a basement that looked something like a medieval torture chamber.
“C'mon man, this is weird, just let us fight it out" Mike said incredulously.
“Yeah", replied Nate, “This looks like something out of medieval times”.
Kyle growled at both of them. “You guys are the ones who are letting your little pissing contest ruin our chances of going national! I’m not letting you injure your reputations as friends or injure each other to settle it. You’re worth too much money to me as a tag team! These guys allowed us to come here and use their talents to settle your little squabble now shut up and listen to them! “
Nate and Mike both huffed and puffed and grumbled at being talked to like this, but he was their manager and a damn good one.
The entourage here were all dressed in black hoods , robes exposing their chests and bare feet.
One of them, a noticeably handsome frat boy, even from under his hood, explained.
“We'll take the two boys in question and interview them in separate rooms. Once we’ve gotten to the heart of the disagreement, we’ll know what kind of procedures to implement.
What could of be described as “servants” appeared, Kyle assumed they were pledges. They were connected, male and female, by chains that ran from their wrists and ankles and, dear lord, it looked like also their nipples and… nether regions?
The guys were right, this was weird. But, desperate times called for desperate measures.
The “servants" escorted Nate and Mike into separate rooms.
Kyle never did hear the interviews but he didn’t need to, he knew well enough what the issue was.
Mike would develop an unexpected “wardrobe issue" mid match and allow it to distract him.
This had a knock-on effect of distracting Nate and the two would get clobbered toward the end of the match. Both guys blaming each other for the “issue".
“You have no self control!” Nate would scream. To which Mike would retort “worry about your own boner *bro*
About an hour went by before Kyle was allowed back in the “dungeon”. The interviews over, Mike and Nate were each naked and strapped to a “rack" next to each other, their arms over their heads and feet apart.
One member of Omega House sat at Nate's feet, another at Mike’s. The man who, apparently was the leader; at least of this “procedure" said:
“Okay, so both of you think you’re great at controlling your selves, fine. Either one of you, just let me know when you want to give up. You can beg for mercy, but only the words “I quit” will stop the torture.”
“Torture"? Both Mike and Nate said at the same time.
At this, a “servant” appeared at the feet of both guys, each holding a bright blue le feather.
“Oh no… no, not that!” Exclaimed Nate, panicked.
The leader explained: “You’ll each have a chance to give up at the beginning of the round, if you don’t, you’ll be tickled mercilessly for an allotted time. Each round the time increases, understand?”
Both guys nodded in disbelief.
“Then we’ll begin. Five minutes. Do either of you want to give up?”
“No way!” said Mike.
Nate responded: “Please! I’m really ticklish on my FHA HA HA HA HA HA NOT WITH THA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA"
Mike looked over and grinned, watching his partner get tortured.
“How long can you hold out buddy? Let’s hope it’s longer than it takes for you to get a bone- eeee he he he he he he he he"
The “servant" started in on Mike’s feet, running the soft feather back and forth over the balls of his feet and up and down his soles.
Mike descended I to giggles. It wasn’t a full on TANTRUM like Nate was having, he was already begging and in tears. But it was pretty unbearable.
“No, no, no he he he he he he c'mon sta HA ha ha hap!”
The leader asked “Who's gonna give up first?”
Nate burst out “PLEASE PLEASE NO MO HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA… I CAN’T STAND IT HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! PLEASE EASE UP ON THE SOLES HA HA HA HA!”
Of course that’s where his tormentor focused after that comment.
Nate BEGGED for the rest of the time while Mike had giggle fits, but mostly enjoyed watching his shit talking partner suffer, not to mention watching a pretty feather gliding over his bare feet.
*DING*
The round ended.
Mike was a little out of breath but Nate was an absolute MESS.
“Do either of you want to give up?”
Mike shook his head, no and somewhat to his surprise, so did Nate.
The leader giggled to him self and Mike noticed that both he and his partner were sporting hard-ons
“You’re doing it again!’ Nate exclaimed “You can’t control your self for one se…”
He stopped this line of attack when he noticed his own.
Mike giggled “problem buddy?”
“Hey, I was just tickled on my worst spot for five straight minutes. It’s a natural response, what’s your excuse?”
“My feet are ticklish too!”
“Yeah right, you weren’t screaming and begging. You’re just always like this!”
The leader broke in: “Do we need to gag you boys?”
The two became silent.
“Do either of you want to give up?”
Both replied “no".
The leader nodded.
“NAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA, PLEASE! PLEASE! DON'T DO IT!” Nate exclaimed. He was totally beside him self. His “servant" was using hair brushes, RAKING them in a back and forth motion, up and down the length of his bare feet! Tears HEMORAGED from his eyes and he descended into silent laughter..
Mike’s feet were receiving the same treatment and he BELLOWED.
Nate could hear better now that he had stopped screaming and couldn’t catch his breath to make a sound. He pulled his hair and squirmed trying to take it. He wanted so badly to submit but he couldn’t even get a breath. Beside him he heard:
“NO! HAAAA HA HA HA HA HA C'MON MAN NOT MY PITS! HA HA HA AH HA HA HA HA!”
At this, Nate him self felt someone resting their fingers on his soft armpits and then going to town on every inch of them.
He got a breath and SCREAMED “I GIVE UUUUP HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
BUT his tormentors didn’t show him an ounce of mercy for the next three full minutes as the guy's feet and armpits were worked over expertly.
*DING*
Nate hated it but he had to submit, he couldn’t take another round”.
“I give up" he whimpered.
“Good. We’re off to a good start”. The leader said.
“Start?” the two said in unison.
“We can tell from the tent poles you guys are sporting that you enjoy watching each other suffer. Now we get to the issue of who has more self control.
A servant turned on the big screen TV that was within view of the guys and a member of
Omega House sat at either side of them and began jerking them off.
On the screen was a game of “cock hero" that was playing on Pornhub and broadcast over the TV. The game was like guitar hero except each guy was jersey to the rhythm of the beat, which varied in speed and intensity.
It was explained that the issue between these two guys, at its core, was that they both believed that the other had no “self control" and so here they were putting it to the test.
Both boys groaned and barked out “fuck!” when the best went into overdrive.
At present it was very fast and hard. The guys to either side of them teased “hold out tough guy, don’t give up now after talking all that shit".
Two more guys came over and started searching each of the contestants for exogenous zones.
The raven haired boy named Mike was quickly discovered to be extremely sensitive on his nipples, the second “assistant" now gently rubbing them constantly.
“OOooooooh FUUUUUCK" Mike exclaimed in a GROAN as the first assistants stroked him
hard and fast to the rhythm of the game”.
An onlooker referred to his opponent, Nate and said “maybe his feet, rub his feet they were really ticklish so that might mean...”
Nate's second assistant did just that, gently massaging and playing with the soles of his feet.
Nate eyes rolled back into his head and he also let out a loud groan! Babbling some variation of “ooh yeah, on my feet, that feel so good".
One of the first assistants taunted “you guys gonna blow your loads? Huh? Soooo much self control, look at you".
Mike’s second assistant started licking and biting his nipples while Nate's began kissing his soft, bare feet.
The beat slowed and both guys were being stroked slowly and methodically, making them squirm and beg, which was funny since it was the game's doing and there was really no one to plead with.
“You guys can’t hold out" one of the onlookers teased. “Those nipples really sensitive buddy?”
– “How does that feel on your bare feet. Man, he looks like he’s hypnotized!”
The beat sped up to medium difficulty and manly grunts between their clenched teeth of
“Aaah" and “Aah fuck-" became more and more common.
“Gonna blow buddy?” the first assistants taunted.
Both guys, in a strained, quivering voice and between their teeth, grunted “NO!” At almost exactly the same time. Both of their eyes were shut tight , both trying with everything they had to concentrate on not blowing their load.
The beat wen into high hear as the second assistant started licking and gently biting Nate's feet.
Mike’s stepped up, licking and rubbing his nipples.
Both guys let out longer and longer moans and groans, both sounding like they were seconds away from Cuming!
Nate's second assistant started planting little kisses up and down his feet in time with the music. He even started TICKLING his feet a little bit!
In a throaty, pathetic voice Nate said flatly; “I’m goanna cum".
The first assistant grinned and STOPPED DEAD, taking his hand off of Nate’s dick, RUINING his climax while the second assistant continued playing with his feet and kissing them.
Nate whimpered: “No, no, no, no pleeeeease, noooooo pleeeease".
A THICK *ROPE* of cum shot from him with nothing contacting his dick. And then another, and another, and ANOTHER!
Mike was laughing at him. “That's a lot of self control you got there buddy, God damn! It's almost hitting the ceiling.
Nate’s orgasm eventually died down and he was nearly sobbing, not getting the intense satisfaction that he was SO close to.
“Okay buddy" said the lead arbiter. “ That settles it. You’re the one who needs to keep his mind on the game and quit worrying about Mike here. Take a few minutes to compose your self and recover and then come over here, kiss his feet and suck his dick, he needs some relief and unlike you, he deserves it.”
Nate was incredulous but a tiny bit eager. Mike was a good looking guy and he could think of worse things than that dick or those feet.
As Nate got to “work” on his buddy Kyle knew that the tension between these two guys had been alleviated .
A senior member of Omega House approached Kyle, stuffed a bundle of papers into his arms and said “Your guys are cute, I think they’d do well here”, and walked away.
The papers were a contract for the two wrestlers to participate in something called the “Tickle Wrestling Federation”, a mixed, male vs female tickle wrestling exposition that Omega
House controlled and which took place in secret to elite clientele. The contract contained an advance that would make the three of them very well off.
Kyle was sure that the two would agree to the terms as soon as they “finished”, even despite the fact that they would have to endure what seemed to be their biggest weakness on a weekly basis.
(To be continued in the TWF series)
