FreakyFieryFeline
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- Nov 10, 2025
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Recently graduated from High School, Caleb is bored and trying to find out what to do with himself. But when he gets caught peeping on his neighbor, she decides to come over for some fun.
Word Count: 2,947
F/M | Full Body Tickling | Bondage | Foot Worship | Teasing | Hand Job | Older Woman x Younger Man | Clothed Female x Nude Male
Daytime television was never worth the hype. Such a big deal made of staying home sick and watching the Price is Right. But, when you had nowhere else to be, it never hit the same. That was Caleb’s experience as he lounged on the couch on a Friday afternoon.
Recently graduated, with no job and no plans, he’d spent his first week of freedom trying to find something to stay entertained. But after burning through all the games on his shelf, every movie he could think of, and having to listen to that stupid jingle every 38 minutes, he was about ready to pull his teeth out.
His parents were out for the weekend on a much-needed vacation.
His friends were working or prepping for college.
It was shaping up to be a terrible, boring Summer, followed by an even more boring Autumn. If he played his cards right, he could convince his Dad to hold off until at least December before he was forced to get a job. To do what, though?
Caleb yawned and rose off the couch, padding to the kitchen and rubbing his eyes. There, he got a glass of water and stared out the back window. Across the yard, through a hole in the fence his dad never got around to fixing, he could see into his neighbor’s house. Miss “Aunt” Sandra had been a close friend of his parents his entire life and used to babysit him when he was younger. Since growing older, he’d seen less and less of her, save for those quiet moments when he caught sight of her through the hole in the fence.
Today was no different. Sandra was vacuuming her living room, dressed in a loose-fitting tank top with a low, low v-cut neck and arm holes almost the length of the torso, showing off her black sports bra. The shorts she wore — a pair of gray cotton ones with the word “Juicy” on the backside — showed off her long, shapely legs, bright red toenails standing out against her tanned skin.
She was the first girl he ever had a crush on, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t still true. He’d have spent the rest of the afternoon watching, but fate had other plans. As he took a drink, her head lifted, and her eyes locked with his.
Caleb felt his heart stop, breaking out into a cold sweat. His face must have been burning because she laughed and waved — wiggling her fingers, long nails the same shade of cherry red as her toes — at him. After an awkward moment, he accepted he’d been caught and raised his hand to wave back.
Aunt Sandra stopped the vacuum and placed her hands on her hips. She lifted a hand to point at him, mouthing the words, “Are you alone?”
He shrugged and nodded, mouthing back, “Out of town.”
A flash of whimsy came across Sandra’s face, her grin growing wide. She pointed to her door, mouthing, “I’ll be right there”, then disappeared from view.
Caleb’s heart jumped into his chest. He put the cup in the sink and retreated to the living room, collapsing into his father’s chair. She’d caught him staring, now she was going to come give him a talking to. Or worse, she was going to tell his parents that he was a Peeping Tom.
“I’m in so much trouble,” He said, burying his face in his hands. If he’d just kept his stupid eyes to himself, none of this would have happened. But he was bored and horny, and now he was going to pay for it. The doorbell rang. Caleb looked up, swallowing the grapefruit-sized lump in his throat. “This is it…”
Time to face the music.
He climbed to his feet and walked to the door. With numb fingers, he unlocked the door with a slow, resounding click, then reached for the knob. Grasping it firmly, he gave it a twist and pulled the door open with an audible creeeak.
Aunt Sandra was anything but upset. Her hands were on her hips, one foot, clad in a cheap black flip-flop from the Gap, tapping impatiently. But when he reached her face — his eyes lingered on her chest for a moment past comfortable, he found a big grin on her ruby red lips.
“Hey there, Little Man. How’ve you been? It’s been a while, huh?” Her voice had a rich, bubbly tone, always on the verge of a girlish giggle with just a hint of vocal fry. It sent a shiver down his spine every time.
“Y-Yeah! Yeah, Aunt Sandy. Been — been a minute.” Caleb swallowed again. His face burned, a heat he felt spreading through the rest of his body. Hotter still when she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.
“You gonna invite me in?” She asked with a wink.
“Y-Yeah! Of course, c’mon in!” Caleb stepped to the side to let her in, pushing the door shut behind her. “H-having a good day? Doing some, um, vacuuming, huh?”
Sandra giggled. “Mmhmm, you noticed?” She set down the duffle bag from her shoulder.
He hadn’t noticed it at first, but seeing it sent a rush of exhilaration straight to his pants. Caleb swallowed again and followed her to the living room. He watched her plop down on the couch, crossing her legs and kicking her foot absent-mindedly. When her grin met him, and she patted the space beside her, he couldn’t help but obey.
The cushion sank beneath his slender frame, causing him to slide closer to her.
Aunt Sandra wrapped arm arm around his waist, giving him a big, tight hug. “Oooh, c’mere you! I haven’t seen you in years! You’re a grown up boy now! Just look at you.” Her hand slid down his waist, her sharp fingernails pricking just above his hips.
Caleb jumped and clamped his lips down to keep from giggling. His eyes darted back to the duffle bag. It was the same one she used to bring over when she —
“So, Mommy and Daddy left their big boy all alone for the weekend, huh?” Sandra pinched his side again. Her grin grew wider. “I bet you’ve been just sooooo bored, haven’t you? All alone by yourself…so bored you decide to start peeping on your poor old aunty.”
“I — I wasn’t. Th-That was a t-total accident!” Caleb squirmed, jerking when her fingers scraped his side again. His lips pursed together, sputtering when her other hand joined in, skittering against his exposed thigh.
“Mmhmm, is that right? I think someone is lyyyyyying…” Her pinches had become persistent, fingers plucking at his petite stomach. Her skittering nails worked their way up to the edge of his shorts, then down to his knee. “Are you still the ticklish little boy you used to be? Hmm?”
“N-Nohoho…” Caleb kicked himself for laughing. He tried to twist away, but caught in the dip in the cushion, there was nowhere to run where her grasping claws couldn’t reach.
“Lonely boys turn into naughty boys…and naughty boys…” She leaned in and nipped his ear. “Deserve to be punished. You want to be punished, don’t you, Little Man?” Without waiting for his answer, Sandra slid from the couch and knelt down beside her duffle bag. She unzipped it with painful slowness, then reached inside.
Caleb’s heart leaped into his throat seeing the length of nylon rope in her hand.
“Just the way you used to like it.” She said with a giggle. Sandra rose to her feet and caressed his cheek, pinching his chin to turn his gaze up to her. “Go hop in bed, I’ve got a special game for a big boy like you.”
After a day wallowing in the doldrums, Caleb needed little more convincing. He jumped from the couch and raced upstairs to his bed. Aunt Sandra followed close behind, giggling and goosing his sides, saying, “Gitchy goo! Gonna gitchu!”
He threw himself down on the bed, kicking off the tangled mess of sheets and pillows. Heart racing as she wrapped the cool, thick nylon around his left wrist, securing it to the headboard with the patience and restraint of a saint. She followed suit with the right, then his ankles. All the white, the bulge in his shorts stood at full attention.
“There we go…my, I think someone was ready! Look at you…” Aunt Sandra grazed her nails along the tops of his feet, licking her lips at the sight of his naked chest. “Nothing but your shorts…such a good boy.”
The restraints alone would have been enough to send him to the moon, every tug that was denied sent another shock of excitement to his throbbing center. But when her nails touched his soft, sensitive skin and the first giggle burst from his lips, Caleb knew he was in trouble. Aunt Sandra had tickled him a lot through the years. But not like this. Never like this.
Oh god, it was going to be like this?
He fought to pull away, toes curling when her nails skittered up and down the length of his sole. Whatever resistance he’d mustered dissolved into a flurry of frantic, boyish giggles. Feet flapping uncontrollably, her ruby nails chased them wherever they fled, digging into the sensitive undersides of his toes.
“Nohoho! No, no, no! Tehehehheckles!”
“Tiiiiickle, tickle, tickle! Sweet boy. Ticklish boy! Gitchy goo, goo!” Her sweet, sultry voice was like honey, sticking to his insides. It pooled in his stomach like a ball of warmth, thrumming in rhythm with his playful jerking left and right. “Ticklish feet! Gitchy, gitchy! Aw…but I know that’s not what you want, is it, Little Man?”
Aunt Sandra crawled onto the bed, pinching and squeezing his knees and thighs as she climbed toward him. She laid down on his lap and scribbled her fingers against his belly. “Coochie coo! Tickle boy! Tickle boy!” Her cheek pressed against his erection, stroking it with tender care. “Someone is a sensitive, ticklish boy! Who might that be?”
“Mehehehe! ME! Hehehehe! Ahahahaha!” Caleb jerked to the side, trying to escape her full, plump lips kissing his pitched tent. Her nails dug in extra hard around his hips, giving her the leverage to sit up.
“Not there yet! Not even close! But don’t worry, my tickle, tickle, tickly little baby boy! Auntie is gonna…gitchy, gitchy, gitchu!” She slipped over his erection to sit on his stomach. Her firm ass pushed against him, an act he couldn’t appreciate as her nails dug into his ribs. She was getting close — too close — and he was growing desperate.
“Plehehehehase! A-Hahaha — Aunt Sandeeehehehe! EEK!” He jumped, her nails drew circles around his nipples. Tracing the tender areolas as they stiffened beneath her touch. Once they’d grown hard enough that they felt ready to burst, she unleashed her most devastating attack.
She grabbed his chest and flicked her nails against his nipples. Up and down. Up and down. Of sync from one another, faster and faster, as if she were playing with a doorstopper. Every scratch was a jolt of lightning from his chest straight to his dick. His laughter grew louder, his cheeks wet with tears.
“Tickle, tickle! Nipple, nipple! What cute little boy tits! I just love to flick, flick, flick! Don’t you love it? I think you do! Yes, I think you do!” As she teased him, Aunt Sandra started to grind her hips, brushing him with the curve of her ass. Slowly, too slowly, stoking a desperate need within him.
“Nohohoho mohohohore! T-T-Taahahahaa — Too ticklish! Tehehehehe! Ahahahaha!” His voice cracked. Tears spilled down his cheeks. But awful as it was, he knew it was only a precursor to what was to come. She wasn’t going to let him off so easily.
“Not yet,” she sang, pulling her hands back. Her fingers wiggled in the air, slowly closing in on his hairless, defenseless pits. Sandra’s tongue poked from her mouth, slowly licking her lips. “I’m gonna tickle those ticklish little pitties, first! I know that’s your favorite, favorite, favorite!”
“NO! HAHAHAHA! DON’T!” Caleb was already laughing, thrashing to get away. But by now he knew that was in vain. The ropes would hold — they always held — and even if he managed to get his arms down, he couldn’t overpower her. He’d tried and failed too many times to count.
“Here it cooooomes,” she sang. Her fingers hovered close enough that he could feel them wiggling, but not yet touching down.
Even that simple air disturbance was enough to have him bucking and shaking his head. A giggling mess. When the first scratch finally landed, it came not as a teasing skitter, but a ten-finger assault. Sandra dug her nails into his pits, shifting forward to pin his chest down and rob him of even the slightest bit of movement.
“Gitchy goo! Gitchy, gitchy! Laugh for me, Little Man! Laugh!”
“WAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAAIT! PLEHEHEHE! EEEHEHEHE!” Laughing was all Caleb could do. There was nowhere left to thrash, no way to so much as jiggle his arms with her knees ducked in at his ribs to hold him still. Long, devious nails scritched and scratched the length of his armpits, top to bottom, then circled around the outside edges before starting over again. “NAHAHAHAHA! TEEHEHEHEHECKLES TOHOHOHO MAHAHAHACH!”
“Does it? Does it tickle? I bet it does! Gitchy goo! Gitchy, gitchy! You’re Auntie’s little tickle toy! Yes, you are! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” She at last went for the kill, drilling her fingers into the centers of his armpits. “WOAH! Easy there, baby boy! Giggle, giggle! Tickle, tickle!”
Caleb bucked his hips again, his cheeks hurting. Tears spilled down them in rivers, a string of spittle spraying from his parted lips. It tickled. God, it tickled worse than anything he’d ever imagined. And the worst part was there was no escape.
The best part was there was no escape.
Aunt Sandra’s weight on his chest, her nails scribbling in his armpits, Caleb was riding the fence between Heaven and Hell. His bulge throbbed and thrust with what little strength he had left, his mouth making desperate pleas his heart didn’t want.
Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.
She wasn’t stopping. Seconds were turning into minutes, but she wasn’t stopping. Caleb collapsed onto his sweat-soaked sheets and screamed, a long, guttural wail of anguish.
“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Mmmm, I don’t think you’re ready to stop yet, Little Man. You’re only crying. C’mon, show me what a big boy you are now! Gitchy, gitchy! Tickly pits! Tickly pits!” Aunt Sandra raked her nails along his pits, top to bottom, never taking them away to give him a second’s rest.
Caleb’s vision swam, blurred with tears and exhaustion. He coughed and fell back, squeaking, silent laughter pouring out of his mouth. He didn’t notice that her nails were gone until she felt cool air brush against his exposed erection.
“Wh-Wha?” He tried to speak, but all that came out was a jumbled moan.
“Shhhh, let Auntie Sandy give you a reward for being such a good boy.” The feel of her soft hand wrapping around his aching member sent his eyes rolling back. Slowly, she started to pump. “Good boy…such a good, ticklish little boy. I’m so proud of you, my favorite little tickle pet. Did you have fun?”
“Mmhmm…” Caleb moaned and closed his eyes .His hips fell into rhythm with her hand, thrusting with increased urgency as she picked up the pace. He still felt the phantom flicks on his nipples and the ghostly scribbles in his armpits. Even the memory was enough to make him groan.
“So good…mmm, are you gonna cum for me, Little Man? Hm?” Auntie Sandy brushed her thumb along the underside of his head. “Can you be a good boy and cum for Auntie?”
“Uh huh. Uh huh!” Caleb thrust harder, faster. He could feel the pressure building up. A dam of emotion waiting for a crack to burst. Fantasies he’d had since starting puberty all crashing into him at once. With a groan and cry, he thrust his hips, releasing his load onto her hand.
“Good boy…Such a good, good boy!” Auntie Sandy continued jerking him until he was spent. Then, she jerked his hypersensitive member one more time for good measure. She moved to the head of the bed and kissed the corner of his mouth. “How about we take five, then play another game?”
Caleb’s eyes fluttered open. Framed by the light coming in through the open blinds, she looked like an angel. A smirking, devious angel.
“Okay.” He agreed with a nod.
Hours, and several orgasms, passed. The sun lowered in the evening sky; the TV sang a hearty jingle announcing Final Jeopardy. Caleb sat on the floor, hands tied behind his back, ankles trussed and pulled into a strict hogtie. Lying on his stomach, he couldn’t see the screen.
All he could see were Aunt Sandy’s feet. Her ankles crossed, one soft, beautiful foot pressed against his face. The pale soles stood out against her tanned skin, toes pinching his nose and caressing his lips.
Sandy sat on the couch, munching on a bowl of popcorn. She squirms and giggles as Caleb’s lips slip around her toes and start to suck. She continued to squirm, smothering a giggle when his tongue lapped against the undersides of her toes.
“Such a good boy. I think I’ve got a job for you…how would you like to be my permanent tickle pet, hm? I’ll even give you an allowance so your Daddy stays off your case.”
Caleb released her toes with a pop and a desperate “Yes, please,” before eagerly returning to his work.
Aunt Sandy giggled and laid back. “Good boy.”
Word Count: 2,947
F/M | Full Body Tickling | Bondage | Foot Worship | Teasing | Hand Job | Older Woman x Younger Man | Clothed Female x Nude Male
Daytime television was never worth the hype. Such a big deal made of staying home sick and watching the Price is Right. But, when you had nowhere else to be, it never hit the same. That was Caleb’s experience as he lounged on the couch on a Friday afternoon.
Recently graduated, with no job and no plans, he’d spent his first week of freedom trying to find something to stay entertained. But after burning through all the games on his shelf, every movie he could think of, and having to listen to that stupid jingle every 38 minutes, he was about ready to pull his teeth out.
His parents were out for the weekend on a much-needed vacation.
His friends were working or prepping for college.
It was shaping up to be a terrible, boring Summer, followed by an even more boring Autumn. If he played his cards right, he could convince his Dad to hold off until at least December before he was forced to get a job. To do what, though?
Caleb yawned and rose off the couch, padding to the kitchen and rubbing his eyes. There, he got a glass of water and stared out the back window. Across the yard, through a hole in the fence his dad never got around to fixing, he could see into his neighbor’s house. Miss “Aunt” Sandra had been a close friend of his parents his entire life and used to babysit him when he was younger. Since growing older, he’d seen less and less of her, save for those quiet moments when he caught sight of her through the hole in the fence.
Today was no different. Sandra was vacuuming her living room, dressed in a loose-fitting tank top with a low, low v-cut neck and arm holes almost the length of the torso, showing off her black sports bra. The shorts she wore — a pair of gray cotton ones with the word “Juicy” on the backside — showed off her long, shapely legs, bright red toenails standing out against her tanned skin.
She was the first girl he ever had a crush on, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t still true. He’d have spent the rest of the afternoon watching, but fate had other plans. As he took a drink, her head lifted, and her eyes locked with his.
Caleb felt his heart stop, breaking out into a cold sweat. His face must have been burning because she laughed and waved — wiggling her fingers, long nails the same shade of cherry red as her toes — at him. After an awkward moment, he accepted he’d been caught and raised his hand to wave back.
Aunt Sandra stopped the vacuum and placed her hands on her hips. She lifted a hand to point at him, mouthing the words, “Are you alone?”
He shrugged and nodded, mouthing back, “Out of town.”
A flash of whimsy came across Sandra’s face, her grin growing wide. She pointed to her door, mouthing, “I’ll be right there”, then disappeared from view.
Caleb’s heart jumped into his chest. He put the cup in the sink and retreated to the living room, collapsing into his father’s chair. She’d caught him staring, now she was going to come give him a talking to. Or worse, she was going to tell his parents that he was a Peeping Tom.
“I’m in so much trouble,” He said, burying his face in his hands. If he’d just kept his stupid eyes to himself, none of this would have happened. But he was bored and horny, and now he was going to pay for it. The doorbell rang. Caleb looked up, swallowing the grapefruit-sized lump in his throat. “This is it…”
Time to face the music.
He climbed to his feet and walked to the door. With numb fingers, he unlocked the door with a slow, resounding click, then reached for the knob. Grasping it firmly, he gave it a twist and pulled the door open with an audible creeeak.
Aunt Sandra was anything but upset. Her hands were on her hips, one foot, clad in a cheap black flip-flop from the Gap, tapping impatiently. But when he reached her face — his eyes lingered on her chest for a moment past comfortable, he found a big grin on her ruby red lips.
“Hey there, Little Man. How’ve you been? It’s been a while, huh?” Her voice had a rich, bubbly tone, always on the verge of a girlish giggle with just a hint of vocal fry. It sent a shiver down his spine every time.
“Y-Yeah! Yeah, Aunt Sandy. Been — been a minute.” Caleb swallowed again. His face burned, a heat he felt spreading through the rest of his body. Hotter still when she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.
“You gonna invite me in?” She asked with a wink.
“Y-Yeah! Of course, c’mon in!” Caleb stepped to the side to let her in, pushing the door shut behind her. “H-having a good day? Doing some, um, vacuuming, huh?”
Sandra giggled. “Mmhmm, you noticed?” She set down the duffle bag from her shoulder.
He hadn’t noticed it at first, but seeing it sent a rush of exhilaration straight to his pants. Caleb swallowed again and followed her to the living room. He watched her plop down on the couch, crossing her legs and kicking her foot absent-mindedly. When her grin met him, and she patted the space beside her, he couldn’t help but obey.
The cushion sank beneath his slender frame, causing him to slide closer to her.
Aunt Sandra wrapped arm arm around his waist, giving him a big, tight hug. “Oooh, c’mere you! I haven’t seen you in years! You’re a grown up boy now! Just look at you.” Her hand slid down his waist, her sharp fingernails pricking just above his hips.
Caleb jumped and clamped his lips down to keep from giggling. His eyes darted back to the duffle bag. It was the same one she used to bring over when she —
“So, Mommy and Daddy left their big boy all alone for the weekend, huh?” Sandra pinched his side again. Her grin grew wider. “I bet you’ve been just sooooo bored, haven’t you? All alone by yourself…so bored you decide to start peeping on your poor old aunty.”
“I — I wasn’t. Th-That was a t-total accident!” Caleb squirmed, jerking when her fingers scraped his side again. His lips pursed together, sputtering when her other hand joined in, skittering against his exposed thigh.
“Mmhmm, is that right? I think someone is lyyyyyying…” Her pinches had become persistent, fingers plucking at his petite stomach. Her skittering nails worked their way up to the edge of his shorts, then down to his knee. “Are you still the ticklish little boy you used to be? Hmm?”
“N-Nohoho…” Caleb kicked himself for laughing. He tried to twist away, but caught in the dip in the cushion, there was nowhere to run where her grasping claws couldn’t reach.
“Lonely boys turn into naughty boys…and naughty boys…” She leaned in and nipped his ear. “Deserve to be punished. You want to be punished, don’t you, Little Man?” Without waiting for his answer, Sandra slid from the couch and knelt down beside her duffle bag. She unzipped it with painful slowness, then reached inside.
Caleb’s heart leaped into his throat seeing the length of nylon rope in her hand.
“Just the way you used to like it.” She said with a giggle. Sandra rose to her feet and caressed his cheek, pinching his chin to turn his gaze up to her. “Go hop in bed, I’ve got a special game for a big boy like you.”
After a day wallowing in the doldrums, Caleb needed little more convincing. He jumped from the couch and raced upstairs to his bed. Aunt Sandra followed close behind, giggling and goosing his sides, saying, “Gitchy goo! Gonna gitchu!”
He threw himself down on the bed, kicking off the tangled mess of sheets and pillows. Heart racing as she wrapped the cool, thick nylon around his left wrist, securing it to the headboard with the patience and restraint of a saint. She followed suit with the right, then his ankles. All the white, the bulge in his shorts stood at full attention.
“There we go…my, I think someone was ready! Look at you…” Aunt Sandra grazed her nails along the tops of his feet, licking her lips at the sight of his naked chest. “Nothing but your shorts…such a good boy.”
The restraints alone would have been enough to send him to the moon, every tug that was denied sent another shock of excitement to his throbbing center. But when her nails touched his soft, sensitive skin and the first giggle burst from his lips, Caleb knew he was in trouble. Aunt Sandra had tickled him a lot through the years. But not like this. Never like this.
Oh god, it was going to be like this?
He fought to pull away, toes curling when her nails skittered up and down the length of his sole. Whatever resistance he’d mustered dissolved into a flurry of frantic, boyish giggles. Feet flapping uncontrollably, her ruby nails chased them wherever they fled, digging into the sensitive undersides of his toes.
“Nohoho! No, no, no! Tehehehheckles!”
“Tiiiiickle, tickle, tickle! Sweet boy. Ticklish boy! Gitchy goo, goo!” Her sweet, sultry voice was like honey, sticking to his insides. It pooled in his stomach like a ball of warmth, thrumming in rhythm with his playful jerking left and right. “Ticklish feet! Gitchy, gitchy! Aw…but I know that’s not what you want, is it, Little Man?”
Aunt Sandra crawled onto the bed, pinching and squeezing his knees and thighs as she climbed toward him. She laid down on his lap and scribbled her fingers against his belly. “Coochie coo! Tickle boy! Tickle boy!” Her cheek pressed against his erection, stroking it with tender care. “Someone is a sensitive, ticklish boy! Who might that be?”
“Mehehehe! ME! Hehehehe! Ahahahaha!” Caleb jerked to the side, trying to escape her full, plump lips kissing his pitched tent. Her nails dug in extra hard around his hips, giving her the leverage to sit up.
“Not there yet! Not even close! But don’t worry, my tickle, tickle, tickly little baby boy! Auntie is gonna…gitchy, gitchy, gitchu!” She slipped over his erection to sit on his stomach. Her firm ass pushed against him, an act he couldn’t appreciate as her nails dug into his ribs. She was getting close — too close — and he was growing desperate.
“Plehehehehase! A-Hahaha — Aunt Sandeeehehehe! EEK!” He jumped, her nails drew circles around his nipples. Tracing the tender areolas as they stiffened beneath her touch. Once they’d grown hard enough that they felt ready to burst, she unleashed her most devastating attack.
She grabbed his chest and flicked her nails against his nipples. Up and down. Up and down. Of sync from one another, faster and faster, as if she were playing with a doorstopper. Every scratch was a jolt of lightning from his chest straight to his dick. His laughter grew louder, his cheeks wet with tears.
“Tickle, tickle! Nipple, nipple! What cute little boy tits! I just love to flick, flick, flick! Don’t you love it? I think you do! Yes, I think you do!” As she teased him, Aunt Sandra started to grind her hips, brushing him with the curve of her ass. Slowly, too slowly, stoking a desperate need within him.
“Nohohoho mohohohore! T-T-Taahahahaa — Too ticklish! Tehehehehe! Ahahahaha!” His voice cracked. Tears spilled down his cheeks. But awful as it was, he knew it was only a precursor to what was to come. She wasn’t going to let him off so easily.
“Not yet,” she sang, pulling her hands back. Her fingers wiggled in the air, slowly closing in on his hairless, defenseless pits. Sandra’s tongue poked from her mouth, slowly licking her lips. “I’m gonna tickle those ticklish little pitties, first! I know that’s your favorite, favorite, favorite!”
“NO! HAHAHAHA! DON’T!” Caleb was already laughing, thrashing to get away. But by now he knew that was in vain. The ropes would hold — they always held — and even if he managed to get his arms down, he couldn’t overpower her. He’d tried and failed too many times to count.
“Here it cooooomes,” she sang. Her fingers hovered close enough that he could feel them wiggling, but not yet touching down.
Even that simple air disturbance was enough to have him bucking and shaking his head. A giggling mess. When the first scratch finally landed, it came not as a teasing skitter, but a ten-finger assault. Sandra dug her nails into his pits, shifting forward to pin his chest down and rob him of even the slightest bit of movement.
“Gitchy goo! Gitchy, gitchy! Laugh for me, Little Man! Laugh!”
“WAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAAIT! PLEHEHEHE! EEEHEHEHE!” Laughing was all Caleb could do. There was nowhere left to thrash, no way to so much as jiggle his arms with her knees ducked in at his ribs to hold him still. Long, devious nails scritched and scratched the length of his armpits, top to bottom, then circled around the outside edges before starting over again. “NAHAHAHAHA! TEEHEHEHEHECKLES TOHOHOHO MAHAHAHACH!”
“Does it? Does it tickle? I bet it does! Gitchy goo! Gitchy, gitchy! You’re Auntie’s little tickle toy! Yes, you are! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” She at last went for the kill, drilling her fingers into the centers of his armpits. “WOAH! Easy there, baby boy! Giggle, giggle! Tickle, tickle!”
Caleb bucked his hips again, his cheeks hurting. Tears spilled down them in rivers, a string of spittle spraying from his parted lips. It tickled. God, it tickled worse than anything he’d ever imagined. And the worst part was there was no escape.
The best part was there was no escape.
Aunt Sandra’s weight on his chest, her nails scribbling in his armpits, Caleb was riding the fence between Heaven and Hell. His bulge throbbed and thrust with what little strength he had left, his mouth making desperate pleas his heart didn’t want.
Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.
She wasn’t stopping. Seconds were turning into minutes, but she wasn’t stopping. Caleb collapsed onto his sweat-soaked sheets and screamed, a long, guttural wail of anguish.
“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Mmmm, I don’t think you’re ready to stop yet, Little Man. You’re only crying. C’mon, show me what a big boy you are now! Gitchy, gitchy! Tickly pits! Tickly pits!” Aunt Sandra raked her nails along his pits, top to bottom, never taking them away to give him a second’s rest.
Caleb’s vision swam, blurred with tears and exhaustion. He coughed and fell back, squeaking, silent laughter pouring out of his mouth. He didn’t notice that her nails were gone until she felt cool air brush against his exposed erection.
“Wh-Wha?” He tried to speak, but all that came out was a jumbled moan.
“Shhhh, let Auntie Sandy give you a reward for being such a good boy.” The feel of her soft hand wrapping around his aching member sent his eyes rolling back. Slowly, she started to pump. “Good boy…such a good, ticklish little boy. I’m so proud of you, my favorite little tickle pet. Did you have fun?”
“Mmhmm…” Caleb moaned and closed his eyes .His hips fell into rhythm with her hand, thrusting with increased urgency as she picked up the pace. He still felt the phantom flicks on his nipples and the ghostly scribbles in his armpits. Even the memory was enough to make him groan.
“So good…mmm, are you gonna cum for me, Little Man? Hm?” Auntie Sandy brushed her thumb along the underside of his head. “Can you be a good boy and cum for Auntie?”
“Uh huh. Uh huh!” Caleb thrust harder, faster. He could feel the pressure building up. A dam of emotion waiting for a crack to burst. Fantasies he’d had since starting puberty all crashing into him at once. With a groan and cry, he thrust his hips, releasing his load onto her hand.
“Good boy…Such a good, good boy!” Auntie Sandy continued jerking him until he was spent. Then, she jerked his hypersensitive member one more time for good measure. She moved to the head of the bed and kissed the corner of his mouth. “How about we take five, then play another game?”
Caleb’s eyes fluttered open. Framed by the light coming in through the open blinds, she looked like an angel. A smirking, devious angel.
“Okay.” He agreed with a nod.
Hours, and several orgasms, passed. The sun lowered in the evening sky; the TV sang a hearty jingle announcing Final Jeopardy. Caleb sat on the floor, hands tied behind his back, ankles trussed and pulled into a strict hogtie. Lying on his stomach, he couldn’t see the screen.
All he could see were Aunt Sandy’s feet. Her ankles crossed, one soft, beautiful foot pressed against his face. The pale soles stood out against her tanned skin, toes pinching his nose and caressing his lips.
Sandy sat on the couch, munching on a bowl of popcorn. She squirms and giggles as Caleb’s lips slip around her toes and start to suck. She continued to squirm, smothering a giggle when his tongue lapped against the undersides of her toes.
“Such a good boy. I think I’ve got a job for you…how would you like to be my permanent tickle pet, hm? I’ll even give you an allowance so your Daddy stays off your case.”
Caleb released her toes with a pop and a desperate “Yes, please,” before eagerly returning to his work.
Aunt Sandy giggled and laid back. “Good boy.”
