by Lostsole
Burrison opened the door, his heart racing with anticipation as he welcomed
Adrian into his home.
They had first met on FetLife a few weeks ago, discovering a shared fascination
with exploring alternative lifestyles. Their online conversations had crackled with
a blend of curiosity and flirtation, delving into fantasies and desires. Now, that
vibrant virtual connection was on the cusp of becoming a tangible reality.
Just over thirty, Burrison had striking green eyes that cut through the dim
light with quiet confidence. Though of average height, his well-built frame
filled out his tailored shirt impressively. His dark hair was neatly styled, and
the faint stubble on his jaw added a rugged yet refined edge to his
appearance.
Adrian, who appeared to be around the same age, stood a few inches taller.
His lean powerfully built frame radiated a quiet strength. His brown eyes,
framed by tousled dark curls that brushed just above his brows, reflected a
mix of curiosity and nervous energy. He wore a relaxed, light-colored button
up shirt with sleeves casually rolled up, paired with well-worn jeans thatgave him
an easygoing yet effortlessly stylish look. The casual beard hewore added to his
laid-back demeanor, contrasting with the neatness of his shirt. There was a subtle
confidence about him, an understated grace hintingat deeper layers beneath his
calm exterior.
The evening air was cool, but inside, the dim lights created a cozy, inviting
atmosphere. The living room, softly illuminated by flickering candles, felt like
a sanctuary from the outside world. The gentle scent of sandalwood mingled
with hints of leather and polished wood, enhancing the tranquil ambiance.
Feeling at ease with Burrison’s warm smile, Adrian kicked off his shoes and
socks, letting his toes sink into the plush carpet before settling onto the
couch. The rich burgundy fabric of the sofa contrasted beautifully with the
dark wood furniture, creating a welcoming space.
“So, how does this work?” Adrian asked, his voice tinged with curiosity as he
glanced around the room, noting the flickering candles and the shadows
dancing on the walls. His gaze lingered on a few intriguing items, hinting at
aspects of Burrison he had yet to fully discover. “What should I do?”
“Just relax,” Burrison replied smoothly, his voice soothing and calm. His
green eyes sparkled with a mix of confidence and a hint of playful mischief.
He gestured toward his lap. “Lay your feet here. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Adrian stretched out his long, lean legs and rested his bare feet on
Burrison’s lap. The warmth of Burrison’s hands sent a gentle shiver through
him as Burrison began his work, his fingers expertly kneading the soles of
Adrian’s feet. Starting at the heels, Burrison’s thumbs pressed into the
tender flesh, gradually working their way up to the arches and toes. Adrian
closed his eyes, surrendering to the sensation. His breathing deepened, each
exhale signaling his growing relaxation. The connection they had built online
was now manifesting as a tangible, soothing reality.
Burrison, meanwhile, took his time, savoring the moment. His eyes traced
the contours of Adrian’s feet—those long toes, the high arches, the strong,
masculine shape that seemed to be crafted for this very moment. Feeling a
playful impulse, Burrison let his thumb brush lightly against the soft skin
under Adrian’s toes, testing for a reaction.
Adrian flinched, a soft giggle escaping his lips before he could stop himself.
His eyes flew open, a look of surprise crossing his face.
“Ticklish, huh?” Burrison asked, grinning.
Adrian chuckled, shaking his head in slight embarrassment. “Maybe a little,”
he admitted, smiling.
Burrison’s grin widened as an idea sparked in his mind. The accidental tickle
had offered a glimpse of something playful—and perhaps something more.
After about thirty minutes, Burrison gradually eased the pressure of his
fingers, slowly bringing the massage to an end. He watched Adrian’s face,
noting the serene expression there, before gently asking, “How did that
feel?”
“Amazing,” Adrian replied, his voice almost dreamy. “My feet have been
killing me all week. That felt incredible. Thank you!” The genuine warmth in
his words washed over Burrison, who soaked it up like a sponge.
“It was my pleasure,” Burrison said with a grin, his fingers lingering on
Adrian’s feet for a moment longer, giving them an affectionate rub. A
mischievous twinkle danced in his eyes as he glanced up at Adrian. “Oh,
Adrian, I wanted to show you something. I love that we met on FetLife, and
I can share this kind of thing with you. Would you like to see my bondage
room?” His tone was playful, yet there was an undercurrent of something
more intense.
Adrian raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Sure. I’ve never seen a
bondage room before,” he replied, though a slight edge of uncertainty crept
into his voice. Despite his bravado, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was
getting himself into.
He followed Burrison down a short hallway, each step heightening the
tension between them, until they reached a door at the end. Burrison
opened it, revealing a room that was a stark contrast to the rest of the
house. The walls were painted black, swallowing the light and creating an
intimate, almost otherworldly atmosphere. The ceiling shared the same inky
hue, while the carpet was a deep burgundy that added a touch of warmth to
the otherwise dark space. All the furniture was black, sleek and almost
ominous in its design.
The only light source was two black lights, and several candles strategically
placed around the room, their flames flickering in the slight draft created by
the opening door. Against one wall stood a large X-shaped cross,
commanding attention. Various tools were displayed like trophies, each one
gleaming in the candlelight, promising both pleasure and pain. At the center
of the room was a modified massage table, equipped with built-in straps
clearly intended for restraint.
"Wow, this looks intense," Adrian said, his voice a mix of awe and
nervousness. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, charged with an
energy that was both thrilling and slightly terrifying.
"Yeah, I love this room," Burrison said, his voice tinged with pride. "It's so
great for all sorts of things. Wanna try it out? Just a little bit?"
"Uh, sure, why not?" Adrian replied, smiling to mask the flutters of anxiety
now swirling in his stomach. There was something exhilarating about
stepping into the unknown, even if it made his pulse quicken with a hint of
fear.
Burrison didn’t hesitate. He moved in closer, his hands swiftly unbuckling
Adrian’s pants and letting them drop to the floor. With practiced ease, his
fingers worked their way up to the buttons of Adrian’s shirt, undoing them
one by one before sliding the fabric off his shoulders. It joined the growing
pile of clothes on the floor, leaving Adrian standing in just his boxer briefs, a
mixture of exposure and arousal coursing through him as the vulnerability of
the moment set in.
"Get on the table," Burrison commanded, his voice firm yet inviting.
Adrian obeyed, his pulse quickening as he climbed onto the table and lay
back. The cool leather against his skin sent another shiver up his spine,
though this one was laced with excitement. Burrison fastened the straps
around his wrists and ankles; each buckle click tightening Adrian’s sense of
helplessness. The restraints held firm, rendering him completely at
Burrison's mercy.
"Now what?" Adrian asked, a slight tremor in his voice. The realization of his
position—strapped down, unable to move, with a man he barely knew in
complete control—sank in, sending a wave of trepidation through him. "I
think I saw a scene once where hot candle wax was poured on the person.
Please don't do anything like that," he added sheepishly, the reality of his
situation hitting him hard.
Burrison chuckled softly, the calm, reassuring tone in his voice returning.
"Relax, big guy. I'm not going to burn you."
Adrian visibly relaxed, his tense muscles unwinding slightly. But just as he
began to settle into a sense of calm, Burrison’s mischievous grin returned.
His eyes sparkled with the playful intent that had been there during the foot
massage.
“I have another idea in mind,” Burrison teased, stepping back for a moment.
“I want to know how ticklish you are.”
Adrian’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse racing again. His body tensed as
Burrison walked over to the table of tools, picking up a feather. The feather
danced lightly in Burrison’s hand; a reminder of the tickling Adrian had
briefly endured during the foot massage.
Burrison turned back, feather in hand, the smirk still on his face. “Big guys
like you are just too much fun to tickle.”
Adrian’s eyes widened, panic starting to rise inside him. He pulled at the
restraints instinctively, but they held tight. There was no escape now, only
Burrison and the ticklish torment that awaited him.
Without waiting for a response, Burrison moved to the foot of the table. He
started with Adrian’s toes, holding them steady with one hand as the feather
danced across the tops and beneath the balls of each toe. The light, teasing
touch was unbearable, and Adrian could feel the ticklish sensation building,
threatening to overwhelm him. His body stiffened, muscles tensing as he
fought to maintain control, while giggles bubbled inside him, desperate to
break free.
Burrison watched with amusement as Adrian’s tough exterior began to
crumble. “Ahh, tough guy, huh?” Burrison taunted, his voice low and teasing
as he continued to feather Adrian’s toes. “That’s okay. I like a challenge. I’ll
have you laughing your head off in no time.” His confidence was palpable,
satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he expertly manipulated Adrian’s
reactions.
Adrian's breath became short, his chest rising and falling more quickly as
each stroke of the feather made it harder to keep himself composed. He
squirmed on the table, trying to shift away from the feather’s delicate touch,
but the straps held him firmly in place.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Burrison said with a chuckle, his voice filled
with amusement. “Let’s see just how ticklish you are.”
Shifting his focus, Burrison trailed the feather down to the soles of Adrian’s
feet, letting the soft tip glide over the arches. He expertly moved the feather,
running it between Adrian’s toes, exploring the delicate skin with precision.
Each light stroke sent shivers up Adrian’s spine, and soon he could no longer
hold back. Burrison grinned as a smile cracked through Adrian’s stoic
facade—a clear sign that his defenses were crumbling.
Adrian’s breath quickened, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the
sensations overtook him. Each stroke of the feather pushed him closer to the
laughter he fought so hard to suppress. He squirmed on the table, struggling
in vain against the straps, desperate to escape the ticklish onslaught.
Noticing Adrian’s discomfort, Burrison decided to switch tactics. “I want to
see how sensitive your arches are,” he mused aloud, his tone almost clinical.
Flipping the feather to the quill end, he slowly dragged it along the sole of
Adrian’s foot.
The effect was immediate—Adrian could no longer fight it. His laughter
erupted loudly, "AHAHAHAA!" The sound echoed through the room as
Burrison continued his playful torment. Adrian’s toes curled instinctively, but
there was no escape from the overwhelming sensations.
“Ah, there’s the reaction I was looking for!” Burrison exclaimed, his voice
alight with the thrill of discovery. “Let’s see what other secrets you’re
hiding,” he teased, his casual tone causing fresh waves of panic to rise in
Adrian.
“Noooo!” Adrian begged, his laughter breaking through the words.
“PLEHEHEHEASE NO!”
“Yes!” Burrison declared, his eyes gleaming with delight. “I’m just getting
started.” He moved to the other foot, savoring the moment before feathering
Adrian’s toes with torturous precision.
“AHAHAHA NOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASE!” Adrian screamed, writhing helplessly
as the tickling overwhelmed him. The desperation in his voice only seemed
to fuel Burrison’s enthusiasm.
"I love it when they scream and beg," Burrison teased, his voice playful as
he feathered Adrian’s toes on both feet simultaneously.
"STOP! AHAHAHAHA!" Adrian’s laughter hit a fever pitch, his voice hoarse
from the exertion as he struggled to escape the relentless torment. But the
straps held him firm, leaving him powerless against the onslaught.
Satisfied with his progress, Burrison finally stopped the tickling, allowing
Adrian a moment to catch his breath. He watched with interest as Adrian
gasped for air, his chest heaving as he tried to recover.
“I think it’s time to try something new,” Burrison said, holding up a pair of
short rods with spiked wheels attached. His eyes gleamed with mischief.
"These are Wartenberg Wheels. I can’t wait to see how you react." His
wicked smile made Adrian’s heart skip a beat.
Burrison wasted no time, running the wheels up and down Adrian’s soles.
The tiny spikes sent jolts of ticklish electricity through Adrian, igniting fresh
waves of uncontrollable laughter.
“AHAHAHAHA! NO!” Adrian’s voice was hoarse, but the laughter poured out
of him as if his body had no choice but to surrender. Burrison expertly
maneuvered the wheels, running them over the tops of Adrian’s feet and
between his toes, leaving no spot untouched. Adrian’s mind was consumed
by the ticklish torment, unable to beg for mercy as tears streamed down his
face.
“Wow, Adrian, you’re incredibly ticklish,” Burrison exclaimed, excitement
clear in his voice. “I had a hunch, but this is better than I imagined. Big,
tough guys like you are always the most ticklish, aren’t they?”
Adrian tried to protest, but all that came out was a garbled mix of laughter.
“NOHOHO NAHAHA NOHOHAT HAHAHA TR-HAHA!” he stammered, his body
shaking with involuntary giggles.
Burrison grinned wickedly. “Don’t even try to deny it, Adrian. We both know
the truth. And now, I know that your feet are super ticklish.” He pondered
aloud, “Now the question is… which tool should I use next?”
Adrian’s mind raced as he gulped in air, trying to steady his breathing. He
could only watch in horror as Burrison walked over to the table, gathering
more tools while Adrian’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Please don’t tickle me anymore,” Adrian pleaded, his voice filled with
exhaustion. “I liked the foot massage better. Please, let me out. Man,
please,” he begged, hoping for a shred of mercy.
“No way!” Burrison laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m just getting
started. I’ve only scratched the surface.”
Adrian stared at the newly assembled tools, wide-eyed, fear creeping in as
he realized what was coming next. Hairbrushes, oil, feathers, finger picks—
each tool seemed designed to push him further into ticklish madness.
Burrison smiled as he traced Adrian’s gaze.
"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice dripping with sadistic delight.
"These tools can break even the toughest of ticklish soles." Adrian’s stomach
dropped as he began to struggle once more, thrashing in a desperate
attempt to free himself, but it was futile. Burrison chuckled at his renewed
effort.
"Relax, Adrian. You’re not going anywhere," Burrison said, his tone almost
condescending as he set the tools aside and turned back to face him. The
confidence in his voice was chilling—he was in total control.
Burrison immediately brought his hands to Adrian’s sides, brushing the
sensitive skin there with a touch that was both gentle and terrifying. “One of
my favorite spots to tickle is right here,” he murmured, anticipation clear in
his voice.
“AHAHAHAHA! NOOOO! AHAHA!” Adrian screamed as Burrison’s fingers dug
into his sides. His body jerked violently; the ticklish sensations were far
more intense than anything he had experienced before. His sides were his
most ticklish spot, and Burrison’s touch was quickly pushing him to his limit.
“You’re incredibly ticklish!” Burrison exclaimed, genuinely impressed by the
intensity of Adrian’s reaction. He had never seen someone react so quickly,
and the power he felt in that moment was intoxicating. “PLEHEHEHEHESE
STAHAHAP!” Adrian begged, his voice cracking as he struggled to speak
between fits of laughter.
“Oh, I’ll stop... eventually,” Burrison teased, winking as he continued his
relentless tickling.
His fingers danced expertly over Adrian’s flanks, occasionally slipping up for
a quick squeeze along his ribs before drifting lower. He savored every
reaction, relishing the way Adrian squirmed under his touch. With each
squeeze, pinch, poke, prod, and caress, Burrison teased him with a mix of
playful cruelty and delight.
Adrian couldn’t stop laughing, his body completely at Burrison’s mercy. The
tickling overwhelmed his senses, leaving him a quivering, laughing mess. His
sides were unbearably sensitive, and tears flowed freely from his eyes. His
mind was short-circuiting, unable to focus on anything but the maddening
sensations.
Though Burrison reveled in the tickling, he began to feel a twinge of guilt.
Adrian’s desperate attempts to escape the endless tickling tugged at his
conscience. Burrison liked Adrian more than he had expected, and he didn’t
want him to hate him for this.
Finally, consumed by guilt, Burrison stopped the tickling. His hands withdrew
from Adrian’s sides, and he quickly unfastened the straps, freeing him from
his bondage.
Adrian, still gasping for breath, jumped off the table the moment he was
free. His movements were frantic, driven by the overwhelming need to
escape. Without a second thought, he bolted out of the room, grabbing his
pants in his rush. He didn’t even bother to put them on, leaving in just his
underwear, his shirt forgotten in the chaos.
Burrison watched Adrian flee, regret settling heavily in his chest. He had
pushed too far. Now, he was certain Adrian would never want to see him
again. He couldn’t let things end like this.
He quickly picked up Adrian's shirt and hurried after him, determined to
make amends.
Burrison found Adrian in the living room, his back turned as he hurriedly put
his shoes on. The tension in the room was thick, the air heavy with
unspoken emotions. "Adrian, wait!" Burrison exclaimed, his voice filled with
genuine remorse. "I'm really sorry! Please let me explain!"
Adrian stood up, his posture rigid, his six-foot-three frame towering over
Burrison as he glared down at him. "Explain what? You strapped me to that
table and tickled me non-stop for half an hour!" His voice was sharp, laced
with anger, each word cutting through the tension in the room
"Yeah, I know..." Burrison started, his tone soft and heavy with regret "It's
just...I really like you, Adrian, and I was so excited to have you here with
me...and I guess I got a little carried away." His words lingered in the air,
weighed down by the sincerity behind them.
Adrian sighed, the anger gradually fading from his face as he listened to
Burrison’s apology. "It's alright, man. I understand. I really like you too, and
I want to give this a shot." His voice was calmer now, the initial shock and
fury giving way to a more rational understanding.
Burrison’s heart lifted at Adrian’s words, a tentative smile spreading across
his face. "Really? You'll keep seeing me even after what I did?" There was a
hint of disbelief in his voice as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck.
Adrian smiled back, his expression softening. "Yeah. But on one condition."
"What's that?" Burrison asked, curiosity piqued as he waited for Adrian's
response.
"I get to tickle you the way you tickled me," Adrian replied with a sly smile,
his voice taking on a playful edge.
"Uh... um... okay," Burrison stammered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.
"I'm not really ticklish, though, so I doubt you'll be able to make me laugh
much." Despite his words, there was a flicker of fear in his eyes, the
realization that the tables had turned sinking in.
Adrian chuckled, relishing the power shift. "We'll see about that. Strip!" he
commanded, his tone authoritative and leaving no room for argument. "I'll
meet you at the restraint table."
Burrison's eyes widened in fear, his bravado crumbling. "Uh... no, you don’t
need to do that..."
"Uh-huh, I insist," Adrian said firmly, his voice brooking no defiance.
Reluctantly, Burrison stripped down to his underwear as a blush spread
across his cheeks. Adrian smirked at the sight, clearly enjoying Burrison’s
newfound vulnerability. "Come on, let’s go to the room," he said, his voice
brimming with anticipation.
They both walked back into the room where Burrison had previously tickled
Adrian.
The atmosphere had shifted dramatically, and the power dynamic was now
reversed. Burrison felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach as he realized
what was about to happen.
"Lie down on the table," Adrian commanded, echoing Burrison's earlier
words.
Burrison nervously complied, climbing onto the table and lying back, his
heart pounding in his chest. Adrian fastened the straps on his wrists and
ankles, restraining him to the table just as he had been restrained before.
"So, what are you going to tickle me with first?" Burrison asked, his voice
trembling slightly as he braced himself for what was to come.
"This!" Adrian said with a grin, holding up a Wartenberg wheel Burrison had
used on him earlier, "You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Burrison replied, though the tension in his voice
betrayed his nerves.
Adrian started with the wheeled tool, dragging it lightly across Burrison's
feet. The sensation from the metal tickled, but Burrison barely flinched, his
body tense as he tried to maintain his composure. Adrian tried again with a
firmer touch, but still, Burrison barely reacted. Frustration began to build
inside Adrian as he tried harder and harder to get a reaction, but Burrison
was too strong. He didn’t even laugh. He just laid there, stoic and
unyielding.
Frustration crept into Adrian’s expression, and he pouted, his excitement
dimming. "Well, that’s disappointing," he sighed, tossing the wheel aside. "I
guess you weren’t kidding about not being ticklish."
Burrison offered a weak smile, trying to appear apologetic. "Yeah, sorry. I’m
really not."
But Adrian wasn’t about to give up so easily. His eyes lit up with renewed
mischief as he reached for a feather, twirling it playfully between his fingers.
"Let’s see if this changes things," he said with a sly grin. He brought the
feather down to Burrison’s feet, teasing the tops of his toes with the light,
delicate quill.
Burrison twitched, the sensation sending a ripple of sensitivity through his
body. His toes curled slightly, betraying the smallest hint of vulnerability.
Adrian’s grin widened. "Oh, so you are ticklish!" he teased, delight dancing
in his voice.
"No, no, I’m not!" Burrison protested, a little too quickly. "I’m just…
sensitive!"
"Uh-huh, whatever you say," Adrian responded, his voice dripping with
playful disbelief. He continued to tease Burrison’s toes, moving the feather
with painstaking slowness. Burrison’s body squirmed involuntarily, his
composure slipping with each flick of the feather.
Adrian’s persistence paid off as he moved the feather to the bottoms of
Burrison’s toes, dragging it gently along the soft skin. Burrison’s face
twitched, a grimace forming as he struggled to hold back the laughter. His
defenses were crumbling, and Adrian could feel the shift.
"I love this," Adrian exclaimed, his voice full of playful delight. "I love
watching you squirm." His eyes sparkled with excitement as Burrison’s body
began to writhe more, the ticklish sensation breaking through his resistance.
"Your feet are so cute when they’re trying to get away."
Adrian’s feather worked its way across both feet, and eventually, Burrison’s
willpower crumbled. A small giggle slipped out, and Adrian’s eyes lit up with
triumph. "Aha! I knew it!" Adrian declared, his voice filled with victory. "You
are ticklish!"
Burrison’s face flushed a deep red, his earlier bravado completely shattered.
"Okay, okay," he admitted, his voice sheepish as he realized he was no
longer in control. "I’m ticklish. My feet are very sensitive, but that’s it."
"Oh, really?" Adrian raised an eyebrow, his fingers now poised over
Burrison’s exposed soles. Without another word, he wiggled his fingers down
Burrison’s feet, and the reaction was instant—Burrison erupted into loud,
uncontrollable laughter.
"AHAHAHAHAHA!" Burrison’s laughter filled the room, his body jerking
violently against the restraints as Adrian’s fingers danced up and down his
sensitive soles. The sensation was too much to handle, and Burrison’s earlier
composure dissolved into frantic giggles.
"Wow, someone’s really ticklish," Adrian remarked with glee, his fingers
continuing their merciless exploration of Burrison’s feet. "Now I understand
why you enjoyed tickling me so much—it’s pretty fun watching you squirm."
Burrison’s laughter grew more desperate, his voice high-pitched as the
tickling became unbearable. "NOHOHO! STAHAHAP! AHAHAHA!" he begged,
his entire body thrashing as he tried in vain to escape the ticklish torment.
Adrian chuckled, clearly savoring his newfound power. "I wonder which tool
tickles the most," he mused, pausing the tickling as curiosity got the better
of him. Burrison’s eyes widened in alarm as Adrian scanned the table of
tools, dread flooding his mind.
"Hey!" Burrison yelped, panic lacing his voice. "No fair! I only used the
feather and the wheel!"
Undeterred, Adrian reached for a hairbrush, its stiff bristles gleaming under
the light. Burrison’s heart sank as Adrian brought the brush down to his
soles, dragging it across with deliberate precision. The effect was
immediate—Burrison’s laughter erupted, louder and more desperate than
before.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" His body jerked violently against the restraints, his feet
twitching helplessly as the brush continued its relentless assault. The bristles
scraped mercilessly, sending him into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
"Wow, this really is an effective tool," Adrian remarked with a grin, clearly
enjoying Burrison’s helpless reaction. "I love the way you laugh—it’s so cute
and helpless."
Burrison’s face burned with embarrassment, his cheeks crimson as he tried
in vain to suppress his laughter, but the tickling overwhelmed his senses, as
Adrian switched to the other foot, repeating the torturous process. The
bristles on his soles felt like pure agony, and his frantic laughter only
intensified.
Finally, Adrian paused, giving Burrison a moment to catch his breath. His
chest heaved as he gasped for air, his body trembling from the relentless
tickling. But Adrian wasn’t finished.
He moved closer, standing beside Burrison’s torso, a mischievous glint in his
eye. "Hmm," Adrian mused, his fingers already hovering above Burrison’s
ribs. "I wonder if your sides are as ticklish as mine."
Before Burrison could respond, Adrian’s fingers descended on his ribs and
flanks, triggering a burst of frantic giggles as Burrison squirmed helplessly
under his touch. The sensation quickly escalated, turning giggles into full-
blown laughter.
"Now, where’s your special tickle spot?" Adrian teased, his fingers inching
dangerously close to Burrison’s underarms. The moment he made contact,
Burrison exploded into wild laughter.
"AHHHHHAHHAHA! NOOO!" he shrieked, his body convulsing as Adrian’s
fingers danced along his sensitive underarms.
"BINGO!" Adrian exclaimed, delighted. "Looks like your armpits are
incredibly ticklish, and there’s no way to protect them!" His teasing words
only made Burrison’s frantic laughter even more desperate.
Burrison’s voice climbed to a higher pitch as Adrian’s fingers worked with
precision, poking and prodding his hypersensitive underarms. Completely at
Adrian’s mercy, Burrison’s body shook uncontrollably as the relentless
tickling pushed him closer to the brink of madness.
"My goodness," Adrian cooed, his tone mockingly affectionate. "Such a
ticklish little boy you are, Burrison. I wonder if your armpits are always this
sensitive, or is it just today?"
Adrian's fingers dug deeper into Burrison's underarms, eliciting even more
hysterical laughter. His back arched off the table as far as the bindings that
held him would allow, his body's futile, desperate attempt to escape the
inflicted torture. Burrison's mind was a blur, his thoughts lost in a sea of
ticklish torment. He couldn't think or speak—only laugh, helpless and
uncontrollable.
"I’ll take that as ‘always,’" Adrian said with a grin. "Your poor armpits are
just begging to be tickled. And you know what? I could do this forever."
Adrian’s fingers moved faster, their teasing touch driving Burrison into
deeper hysterics. His laughter turned wild and desperate, his body thrashing
in a futile attempt to escape the relentless tickling.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle," Adrian teased, his voice low and playful. "What are
you going to do, my ticklish little boy? There’s no escape—you’re all mine."
Burrison’s muscular arms strained against the restraints, pulling with all the
force his ticklish torment and limited movement would allow; desperate to
break free and shield his vulnerable armpits. But the straps held firm. His
frantic laughter grew more desperate, his body trembling under the
relentless assault. He couldn’t endure it any longer—the endless waves of
sensation were frying his brain, and panic gripped his chest as he struggled
to breathe.
"I’M SOHAHARRY! NOHOHO MORE TICKLING!" Burrison cried out, his voice
dripping with desperation. He was at his breaking point, teetering on the
edge of pure, ticklish torment. Every nerve in his body screamed for relief
from the sensory overload. “PLEAHEHESE! MERCY! HAHAHA STAHAHAP!
NOHOHO MOHOHORE!”
Adrian’s fingers continued their merciless dance, his grin widening as
Burrison’s laughter grew more agonized, more frantic. Burrison had never
experienced anything like this—the tickling was unbearable, pure agony, with
no end in sight.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Adrian slowed his torturous assault,
letting his fingers gradually withdraw.
Adrian stepped back for a moment, admiring his handiwork. Burrison lay
sprawled on the table, his chest heaving, gasping for air, with tears clinging
to his flushed cheeks. The relentless laughter had left him trembling with
exhaustion, his muscles weak from the involuntary thrashing. For a fleeting
second, it seemed as though Adrian might finally offer him some reprieve.
But the moment passed quickly. "Oh, I’m not done yet, ticklish little boy,"
Adrian said, his voice dripping with playful menace. He flashed a grin,
teasingly dragging out his words.
"No mercy from me," Adrian continued, his tone both firm and teasing, a
playful glint in his eyes. "You’ve been a bad boy, and it’s time you learn why
it’s not okay to tickle someone against their will." His fingers wiggled
threateningly in the air, though the hint of a smirk softened the menace. "I
expect better from someone who shows interest in being part of my life. So
now, I’m going to tickle these sensitive armpits of yours for hours and hours
until you understand just how serious this lesson is."
Burrison’s eyes widened in horror as Adrian’s words sank in—hours and
hours of tickling? He would surely lose his mind! He would die! His laughter
grew even more desperate as Adrian’s fingers resumed their relentless
attack, driving him into a state of pure, ticklish torment.
Without warning, Adrian leaned down over Burrison’s right armpit and began
licking and nibbling the sensitive skin. Burrison’s eyes shot wide open; he
had never felt a sensation like this before!
"AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Burrison screamed, thrashing wildly.
Adrian chuckled. "Oh, my goodness, this is so much fun!" he said, his voice
filled with gleeful mischief.
Burrison’s laughter turned frantic. "AHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP! NOHO
MOHORE!" he pleaded between gasps for air.
Adrian just smiled, continuing his ticklish torment, his tongue and teeth
teasing Burrison’s armpit as his captive squirmed uncontrollably beneath
him. "That’s right, my giggly little boy," Adrian cooed. "Just enjoy the
tickles."
Satisfied with the reaction, Adrian switched to the other side, giving
Burrison’s left armpit the same torturous treatment. Burrison’s laughter hit a
fever pitch.
"ACK! PLEA-AHAHAHAA!" Burrison’s voice cracked as he tried to beg for
mercy.
Adrian grinned down at him. "I want to hear you say you’re my silly, giggly
little boy," he teased, his fingers hovering inches above Burrison’s tortured
hollows, wiggling playfully. "Only then will the tickling stop."
Burrison, long past his breaking point, didn’t hesitate. "OK! I’M YOUR SILLY
GIGGLY LITTLE BOY! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME ANYMORE!" he croaked, his
voice raw, choking back a sob in desperation to end the torture. Humiliation
and frustration washed over him as he fought the tears streaming down his
face.
Adrian grinned triumphantly. "That’s what I thought."
He leaned down, looking Burrison directly in the eye. "Do you have anything
else to say to me?" Burrison’s swollen, tear-filled green eyes met Adrian’s
brown.
"I’m sorry I strapped you down and tickled you against your will."
"And?" Adrian asked, holding his hands in a mock attack position.
"ANDIWILLNEVERDOITAGAIN!" Burrison yelled, the words tumbling out in
one breath, his gaze locked on Adrian’s threatening hands.
"Good boy," Adrian said, giving Burrison’s ribs one final tickle.
"AAAHA! No! No more tickling! Please!" Burrison cried out, his voice hoarse,
tinged with exhaustion and desperation.
"Alright, calm down. I’m done. No more tickling," Adrian said, his tone
lighter as he began untying the straps. Once Burrison was free, Adrian
stepped back. "There you go."
Burrison sat up, rubbing his wrists, his chest still heaving from laughter.
Adrian leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching as Burrison
regained his composure.
"So, not ticklish, huh?" Adrian teased, chuckling at what had become
painfully obvious.
"I lied, obviously," Burrison huffed, standing up from the table, feeling the
sting of humiliation at how easily he’d been reduced to a desperate, giggling
mess.
"Obviously!" Adrian laughed. "That’s the understatement of the year."
Burrison shot him a look, his voice laced with a mix of anger and betrayal.
"And you lied about tickling me the same way I tickled you. You went way
longer and way harder—it was torture!"
Adrian smirked, clearly satisfied. "Yeah, I guess I did. But hey, lesson
learned, right?"
The air hung heavy between them as Burrison rubbed his wrists, still feeling
the lingering sting. His chest still rising and falling, he glanced at Adrian.
"Where did all that come from?" he asked, voice a little shaky but full of
curiosity. "You’re not the same quiet, reserved guy I welcomed into my
home earlier tonight. You—" he hesitated, searching for the right words,
"you acted completely inexperienced. But that? That was... something else."
Adrian’s smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "You
thought I was inexperienced?" He chuckled, tapping his temple. "I wasn’t
lying when I said I hadn’t done much of this before. But sometimes," he
added, his voice lowering, "you learn a lot just by watching and paying
attention."
Burrison’s brows furrowed, still trying to reconcile the shy, unassuming
Adrian from earlier with the confident, commanding man before him. "But...
that dominance? The way you took control like it was second nature—where
the hell did that come from?"
Adrian shrugged, the grin still playing on his lips. "You’d be surprised what
people bring out of you when the moment’s right." His gaze lingered on
Burrison’s flushed face. "Maybe I just needed the right incentive. After all,
you’re the one who tied me down first."
Burrison scoffed but couldn’t stop the heat rising to his cheeks. "So, what?
You were just pretending to be inexperienced?"
"Not pretending," Adrian replied smoothly, "just saving my energy for when
it mattered."
Burrison stood fully, shaking off the last remnants of his embarrassment.
"Well, you sure as hell fooled me," he muttered, crossing his arms. He
stared at Adrian for a moment before a reluctant smile broke through.
"Alright, I’ll admit it—you got me good. But I still feel like I barely know you,
especially after that whole act."
Adrian’s expression softened, the smirk fading into something more genuine.
"You know more than you think," he said quietly. "I just didn’t know if I
could be that person until you pushed me there."
Burrison raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still wary. "So, what now? Are you
gonna keep playing the 'quiet, reserved' guy, or is this the real you?"
Adrian chuckled, his playfulness returning. "Maybe a bit of both. Depends on
who's pulling the strings."
Burrison shook his head, still processing everything. "I guess I should’ve
known better than to underestimate you."
"You should’ve," Adrian teased, stepping back with a playful look. "But hey,
now you know what I’m capable of."
Burrison laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I do... and I’ll make
sure I’m ready next time."
Adrian’s grin widened. "Oh, so there’s going to be a next time?"
"Don’t push your luck," Burrison shot back, though the faint smile on his
face softened the words.
And like the wax of a flickering candle, the tension in the room slowly melted
away. What had begun as an evening bound by nervous anticipation had
transformed into one marked by newfound mutual respect and the forging of
a new bond.
THE END
