by Soul Tickler
Visiting TCTM again wasn't easy. The large room full of inmates watching TV, their white hospital gowns, a young man doing corner time naked, everything there reminded me of things I'd rather forget, still Dr Smith's offer couldn't go unnoticed. I found him at his office reviewing some paperwork. We chit chatted a bit about Brad being the worst inmate ever and walked together to the discipline room. Inside there was a man curled up to the padded floor, his arms trapped in a canvas straitjacket, his ankles tied with velcro wrap so he couldn't stand up. He was diapered and blindfolded, his ears plugged with earmuffs. I barely recognised my dominant big brother to that helpless male form.
Dr Smith entered the security code and the solid metal door opened. "He's all yours. Have some fun!" he said with a knowing smile.
Brad could see nothing, he could hear nothing, he would never know. He started moving around nervously, trying his best to make sense of the surroundings, as I took hold of the velcro wrap and lifted his feet in the air. Big bro has beautiful feet, I realised, powerful and manly, with slightly squared-off toes and a strong arch. I hadn't appreciated them much as a kid being forced to smell them, so I lowered my head and took again a deep sniff.
Karma is a bitch, they say. Brad jerked wildly in an instinctive attempt to avoid the inevitable. I alternated light teasing touches to the base of the toes with a scratching of the muscular arch and had him laughing and pleading in seconds. He tried to escape my fingers but couldn't really do much about it. Ten minutes later he was sweating like a pig. I sat on his chest and planted my socked feet on either side of his head, pinning it. Red-faced Brad was a sight to behold. I took one sock off and pressed it on his nose. His arms were struggling under me inside that straitjacket. I lightly slapped his face a couple of times, then removed the earmuffs and whispered to his ear.
"How does it feel to be on the receiving end, buddy? Ready for some baby oil on your soles? Man, that would drive me crazy".
"Marshall?! Is that you???" he recognised my voice. No response from me. I searched at a medical trolley left there for the best tickling tool. The hairbrush under his toes proved to be an excellent choise. Brad's laugh imediately went up an octave and some baby oil only made it worse.
"Yeah, that's the spot, isn't it? Kitchy kitchy koooo!"
"Marshall, if it's you, please stop the tickling! I'm begging! Hee hee! You're killing me bro! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!"
He called my name a couple more times, before he disolved into laughter again. I noticed a wet spot spreading on his diaper. Holy shit! I kept working him over trying most tools available for all I suffered being his little brother. The vibration of a toothbrush between his toes was the worst. His laughter turned to sobbing by the time I was done, all that struggling had him exhausted and gasping for air. The solid metal door buzzed shut behind me, leaving Brad in his misery.
* * *
That night Linda had arranged us dinner with a couple she met at her psychologist. Emma was a successful, strong willed CEO at a big company, while Nathan an artist with no income. He used to be a lazy smart-alec who thought the world owed him a living, but TCTM changed that. Nathan stayed silent all night, while Emma did the talking, having an opinion about everything. If her intention was to impress Linda, I could tell she was definitely impressed. I overheard them talking about me, saying that my wife should get rid of any male pride left in me, starting by cutting me off from my old friends and hanging out only with other men in chastity.
"Don't you agree, boy?" Emma asked me playfully, aware that I was listening. I flushed red with embarrassement.
Linda decided to put me on the same sex schedule as Nathan. I'd be allowed intercourse with her once a week every Sunday night and that's pretty much it. No more self pleasure when I do the household chores. Emma says I shouldn't expect a reward for something all loving husbands do. I begged my wife to be more lenient, but Emma had warned her that giving in to your husband's whining only leads to more whining. She presented the cage as an act of love to preserve our marriage. Having to wait for an orgasm will help me focus on our relationship more. Linda hugged me saying how pleased she is over the progress we're making. I went off to watch TV totally frustrated.
* * *
Next time I visited Brad, he was moved to isolation for attacking a nurse. They made him sign the extention of his program and Samantha did the talkings with Brad's company for a two-month unpaid leave for medical reasons. Dr Smith led me to a room with an one-way mirror wall. My brother was behind that wall, naked except for his cage. I noticed a shock collar on his neck, like those used for dogs, with a small padlock so he couldn't take it off. Nurse Angelo was sitting in a big comfy armchair, now unlacing his boots, getting ready for a little demonstration. He revealed a beautiful pair of feet and ordered Brad to kiss the tops. No reaction. He took a remote control out of his pocket.
Brad screamed out as the electrical impulses fired through his central nervous system, making him grit his teeth. "I said, kiss my tops, boy!" My brother hesitated no more. He crawled in defeat to the waiting feet and started kissing each toe. "Show some excitement while you do!" Brad shook his ass, pretending he had a tail. "Now sniff the insides of my boots!" He did that too. He buried his face inside like a good dog would. Dr Smith smiled pleased.
Nurse Angelo then had Brad laid on his back and rested his wide 14's all over my brother's face. He started moving them, as if wiping them on a doormat. The rules were simple. Stop licking, Brad got shocked. Slow down, he got shocked. Try to talk, the intensity increased. The large man put his hands behind the head in a relaxing posture and enjoyed the show with a huge grin spread across his face. I watched in astonishment as poor bro did a remarkable job lapping up those huge soles and sucking on the toes. When unlocked, his dick flopped on his thigh, half hard. Nurse Angelo streched his right leg and started tapping on that growing erection with his foot.
"Does this feel good, boy?" Brad nodded yes. "Will you ever attack a nurse again?" He shook his head no. Fully erect by now, he was moaning loudly. In less than a minute he exploded with a huge cumshot all over the place. Nurse Angelo made him clean the cum covered foot that had so kindly brought him to orgasm. He locked the now softening dick back in its cage, put his boots back on, then petted Brad goodbye. The demonstration was over.
"He'll be broken before he knows it", Dr Smith commented on my brother's progress.
Driving home, inexplicable thoughts of myself being down there, forced to lick that size 14's, took me by surprise. I'm not into men, yet I was so fucking horny at the moment, if it wasn't for my chastity, I'd stop the car on the side of the road and jerk off.
* * *
Brad came back from TCTM a totally different man. He's so much kinder to everyone now, always smiling and helpful. Samantha keeps him on the same sex schedule that Linda keeps me. Whenever he objects on helping with the household chores or let's say drive kids to school, Samantha threatens she's going to cut back on his orgasms, so Brad quickly obeys. The girls find all kinds of excuses to send us to TCTM every other weekend or so for a quick attitude adjustment.
I remember the first time we got tickled together. Watching Brad scream his lungs out, while waiting for my turn, was stressful, yet funny as hell. When the hairbrush touched our oiled soles, we both thrashed like mad, squirming and bouncing our asses on the mattress, and when Dr Smith rolled us on our stomachs and finger fucked us while tickling our armpits and sides, Brad squirted a large river of cum on the sheet, so did I.
"It's torture, but kind of nice too!" Brad admited exiting the building and I couldn't agree more.
He asked me about that day in the discipline room.
"That was you, right? Damn dude, you really worked me over!"
As Linda's phycologist says, acceptance is the biggest step to a better man, so maybe it's time for me to admit how much I enjoyed as a kid getting tickled by Brad, despite my screaming and cries. I loved getting big bro's attention, I guess all little brothers do. Brad may act like an asshole sometimes, but he's a nice guy and we get along very well lately. TCTM proved to be a bonding experience for us. Maybe Dr Smith's method is working after all.
* * *
New TCTM branches are opening up all over the country. There seems to be an expanding network of people influencing women to send their men to TCTM, including psychologists, laywers, journalists and NGOs putting pressure on the goverment for legislative acts and state funding. Businessmen in suits or blue collar workers, they all end up strapped down naked. Dr Smith now awaits state approval on two pilot tickling programs, one for male speeding offenders and one for adolescent boys developing delinquent behavior. He dreams of TCTM eventually replacing imprisoment for minor crimes. I can't help but wonder what the future holds for us men.
* * *
Nurse Angelo sits in a big comfy armchair and unlaces his boots. His shift is finally over. He's been on his feet all day, I can definitely smell that. The large man peels off his damp socks and crosses his bare feet before us. I'm on all fours next to Brad, both wearing shock collars and naked except for our cages. Waiting for Angelo's nod, we're told to shake our asses in the air like dogs do. I keep staring at the remote control in his hand and regret over and over again about a big fight with Linda that led me to this. My heart is beating fast. I've never licked a man's sweaty foot before, and I'd rather not, but it's not up to me now.
Nurse Angelo nods.
We start crawling to him.
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