by Ticklish Guy
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Doug had always wanted to be a wrestler.
As a kid, he used to relish the wrestling matches he would have with his friends. He was always a big, strong kid, and his friends used to call him 'Kid Kong' because they said wrestling him was like wrestling King Kong himself! Doug would bask in the glow of their admiration, and loved walking all over the place with his shirt off so he could show off that massive chest of his, which he maintained, since he was 12, with a steady work out with weights and loads of calisthenics. He knew he was destined to be a professional wrestler.
Now, 29 years old, he was still unable to break into the big time of professional wrestling, despite a great career in college. He had been relegated to sparing with second and third string pros. Age was catching up with him, he mused, and he had no idea how he was going to change his fortunes. Then it happened.
Doug was in his tiny apartment, feeling sorry for him, when the phone rang. It was his manager, Artie Cox. He hadn't heard from Artie for a while, so he was surprised that Artie finally remembered that Doug was his client. He was even more surprised when Artie asked him to come down to his office to discuss a possible professional engagement. Artie had been his manager for eight years now, and this was the first time he actually called with an offer. Doug was dressed and out the door in minutes, and went straight to Artie's office downtown.
"Kid, I've got a potential match for you, but I'm not sure you're gonna like It.", Artie said as soon as Doug came in his door. "Are you kidding, man? I've been waiting YEARS for this phone call. If it's a professional gig, I want it!", said Doug, unable to contain his excitement at the thought of actually wrestling professionally. "Their offering you $500 for the night,” continued Artie, "but I gotta warn you, it's not your average wrestling match. It's a pay per view thing for an up and coming league, the I.T.W.F. They're looking for new talent, and I think you have exactly what they're looking for, but again....", Doug cut him right off, "I want this, Artie. I want it bad! Make it happen.". Artie shook his head, "O.K. then, Kid, but don't say I didn't warn you.".
Doug went into an almost non-stop workout regiment for the next two weeks. He was determined that he would be at his peak for the match, and he felt great and full of confidence when Artie picked him up for the match that Saturday night.
The arena was outside of town, and Doug wasn't familiar with it, but when he got there he was on cloud 9 when he saw the marquee outside the arena reading "TONIGHT'S MAIN MATCH: KID KONG vs. THE BEAR". His name was in lights. He was happier than he had ever been in his life, "I'm on my way.,” he thought, "Nothin's gonna stop me now!"
Artie was quiet the whole way, and said nothing as they went into the entrance marked Employees Only. They went down a long corridor to the dressing room, and Artie told Doug he'd see him in the arena. Doug was surprised by Artie's dour attitude. After all, he was picking up $100 for driving Doug to the arena and sitting back in the stands to watch. It was Doug who was going to have the bruises the next day, but he didn't care. It was a professional match! So Doug quickly stripped off his cloths, put on his jock strap and lycra shorts that showed off his 'package' perfectly, slipped on his white athletic socks, them put his socked feet into his wrestling boots, laced them up, put on his crimson robe with the letters 'KID KONG' emblazed in gold lettering on the back, and headed for the door to the ring. "Look out world, here comes Kid Kong!", he thought as he opened the door and saw the crowd.
The place was packed! It was a bit smaller than he expected, but it held a good 500 people, and, after all, this was a pay per view event, so he knew the bulk of the proceeds would come through people watching at home and at theaters. It was a typical wrestling ring, with the spotlights above and the large speaker, equipped with microphones to pick up all the sounds that would come from the ring, hanging over the center. Doug was all set, and stood in the doorway awaiting his introduction.
Within minutes a man in a dark blue suit entered the ring, to the roar of the crowd, and announced, "Gentlemen, are you ready for a rib tickling good time?", to which the crowd roared their approval. "Weird way to introduce a match.", thought Doug, but then he shrugged it off. Only then did he take a closer look at the crowd. They were all men. Not a woman in the place. "This is getting weirder and weirder, but hell, it's a professional match, so what do I care?".
"In this corner,", continued the announcer, "weighing 190 lbs., standing 6' even, and wearing red trunks, at least for now...", to which the crowd exploded with shrieks of approving laughter, "the challenger, Kid Kong!". This was it. Doug started to run up to the ring, and was immediately verbally assailed by a loud chorus of boos and catcalls from the crowd. Doug shrugged it off. "This is normal for a challenger." he reminded himself as he climbed into the ring, removed his robe, exposing his six pack abs and smooth chest, and started to limber up. Through the noise, he had missed the "at least for now" line.
"And in this corner, wearing his signature black briefs, weighing 275 lbs, and standing 6' 3"," shouted the announcer over the din of the approving crowd, "the I.T.W.F. defending Champion, The Bear!!"
The crowd exploded with cheers and applause, so much so that it was almost deafening. Then Doug saw his opponent enter the ring, and he turned white. The guy was a bear! He was a monster of a bear, standing the full height he had been announced at, and built like the proverbial brick, well, you know what!
The man-monster turned around, holding his hands up to egg on the approving crowd, and that is when Doug saw it, and he got even whiter. Emblazoned on the back of The Bear's black robe, in gold letters, was 'THE BEAR INTERNATIONAL TICKLE WRESTLING FEDERATION CHAMPION, 2007-9'. Doug could feel himself shaking, and he couldn't stop.
Doug had always had one slight problem in his life; he was deathly ticklish. Since he was bigger than his friends and most of his opponents, he had never had a problem hiding that weakness. In fact, it was totally by accident that Artie had learned of it five years earlier. Doug had just completed a long sparring match with an up and coming wrestler, and had been able to hold his own against him, although he had taken a bit of a beating. Artie had arraigned for a massage for his wrestler, as a reward for his hard work. Doug had always avoided massages, as he was afraid it might expose his weakness, but what could he say in this instance? He stripped naked, got on the table, and let the guy go to work.
At first he was able to contain himself when the masseur kneaded his back and sides. It took all his will power, but he did it.
The masseur was an expert, and he worked over every inch of Doug's naked upper body, as Doug grit his teeth and held back the giggles and laughter that was building up inside him with every stroke and poke. After about a half hour, the masseur moved down to doug's thighs, which drove him to bite his lip, then down his legs, which he could tolerate, then down to the spot Doug dreaded; his bare feet. The massage didn't last a minute when the masseur began to massage the sole of his left foot. Doug screamed with laughter, and dove off the table. Artie and the masseur looked at him with shock, then both burst out laughing. Doug turned beet red with embarrassment, and begged the men not to say a word about the incident, which they both agreed to.
Now, it seemed, five years later, Artie may have had seconds thoughts.
Doug watched with horror as the man mountain removed the robe, exposing his massive chest, which, like his back, legs, and arms, was covered in a thick coating of black hair. Hell, the guy even had hair on the tops of his size 13 feet and toes, which is how Doug first realized that all his opponent was wearing was a small, almost too tight for his physique, black lycra brief. With his shiny bald head, the only place on this beast that did not have hair, the guy was the epitome of the perfect wrestling champion. Doug was petrified, and wanted to run, but then the announcer handed the microphone over to the referee, who called the wrestlers to the center of the ring. Doug realized, there was no turning back now.
"I want a clean fight.", instructed the ref, "You can use any hold you want to keep your opponent where you want him, but only tickling is allowed for submission. One round, ends when one of you submits. After that, the loser is on his own!", continued the ref, smiling evilly in Doug's direction, as if he knew what the inevitable outcome of this match would be, and Doug wasn't so sure he was wrong. "Now get to your corners and wait for the bell.". Doug did as instructed. He wanted to run, but he couldn't; no sooner did he get there than the bell rang. The fight was on!
Doug knew his only hope was to avoid getting in front of his opponent and allowing him to get hold of him. There was no way he would be able to break free that monsters grip if he got him. "This is tickle wrestling, so that means this goomer must be ticklish.", thought Doug. "He's stripped more than I am, and he's barefoot, which means I have a bit of an advantage. If I can just get him on the ground and work on those Sasquatch feet of his, I've got him!". With that, Doug quickly moved behind the much bigger and, he thought, slower wrestler, and tried to position himself so he could tickle the massive bruisers bare ribs.
Doug dodged and bobbed all around the Bear, trying to get his opponent disoriented. Instead, the Bear simply crossed his arms and watched his opponent dance around the ring. The crowd now began to boo, and yell for Doug to "Mix it up, you coward! Get in there and wrestle!". Doug knew things were getting ugly, so he made his move and went for his opponents exposed lower sides.
His hands were a micrometer away from the Bear's naked skin, so close that he could feel the warmth eminating from the brute, when, to Doug's shock and dismay, the guy whipped his arm around, grabbed Doug's left wrist, and yanked him, like he was a rag doll, in front of him. The Bear then raised Doug's left arm up, slipped his own left arm over Doug's left shoulder, grabbed his right wrist and lifted it up so that he could get his massive left arm over the right shoulder as well, pinning poor Doug's arms back and up, in a full Nelson that the monster was accommplishing with one arm! Doug was in deep trouble, and he knew it.
Immediately the champion began to run the fingers of his free right hand up and down Doug's naked and fully exposed sides, first his left side, then his right. He explored Doug's armpits, his ribs, and his lower sides and firm belly. Doug tried to fight the insane tickling sensations, tried thinking of anything, everything, that would keep him from laughing, but, in the end, it was useless.
This guy was a professional, and knew exactly how to attack each and every spot of his opponents, or should we say prey's, bare skin. In less than a minute, he had Doug giggling like a little girl, and the crowd went wild.
He kept Doug in that full Nelson for the next 15 minutes, tickling him silly. The Bear had quickly discovered that Doug's 'sweet spots' were his pits, lower sides, right on and around the waist, and his navel, and those are the spots he concentrated his attack on. Doug was now laughing out loud, and begging his opponent to stop, "Please! HAAHAAHAA! STHAAHAAP! I can't STHAAHAAND it! PLHEEHEESE!". cried Doug.
Sadistically, the Bear leaned over to his helpless opponent and began to taunt, "Oh, is the poor baby ticklish? Huh? Kitchy kitchy, coo, baby! Tickle, tickle, tickle, and tickle! Tickle those armpits? Sure I will! Kitchy coo, kitchy coo, kitchy coo! Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle! Now you want your naked belly tickled? Huh? Say it! Say you want your belly tickled!” Desperately hoping the torture would stop, Doug shouted, "YES! THEEHEECKLE my belly! PLHEEHEESE tickle mhaahaay belly! HEEHEEHEE! and, sure enough, the monster moved his hand from Doug's abused pits to his even more sensitive belly, working over the taught skin, and drilling into his navel, as Doug begged and laughed pitifully. All the time his laughter and pleas for mercy were being broadcast over the arena sound system to the total approval of the crowd, who relished Doug's torture even more than he hated it.
Obviously tired of current position, the Bear suddenly released Doug, who could barely stand. As Doug wobbled about, totally disoriented from the fifteen minutes of non-stop tickling, the Bear approached him as a real bear would approach a wounded animal. He threw his massive arms around Doug in a bear hug, and lifted him off his feet into the air. Doug was still woozy from the tickling he had just received, and wasn't nearly ready for the new assault launched against his ticklish body. The hairy giant wrapped his arms around his victim so that his fingers were on Doug's sides while his arms held Doug tightly against his barrel chest. Now, cruelly, the Bear struck, wiggling his fingers on Doug's sensitive and exposed lower sides. Doug was in hysterics in moments.
"Oh, is the poor little boy's sides ticklish? Poor little boy! Let's see if we can tickle you pink, shall we?” the beast continued to taunt. "NHOOHOO! Please stop THEEHEECKLING MHEEHEE! I beg of you, PLHEEHEESE STHAAHAAHAAP! ", Begged Doug, to no avail. After ten minutes of this punishment, the Bear leaned up against the ropes, so that Doug was literally lying on top of his chest. At this point, Doug was so sensitized that the Bear's chest hairs literally tickled his naked back. The Bear now eased his grip of Doug so his fingers were right on Doug's six pack abs and, holding him tight with his forearms, the Bear began to dance his fingers all over Doug's belly.
The champion kept this torture up for a long time, as he was obviously very comfortable in this position. He had also noticed something interesting about Doug; there was a tent forming in his shorts. The relentless tickle torture was turning on the poor guy! Now was the time to go for the kill.
The Bear released Doug from his tickling grip, and Doug; exhausted from his nearly hour and a half of non-stop tickle torture, dropped right to the mat. This is what the sadistic wrestler was waiting for. He straddled his prey, sat down on the base of his back facing his feet, grabbed Doug's ankles, yanked them back and crossed them so his feet were facing him and his ankles locked in place by each other, and then, lazily, he began to unlace Doug's left boot.
Doug began to get a grip after his long ordeal, and quickly became aware of what his opponent was up to. Instantly, he panicked. "Don't you take off my boots!” Doug protested, "Don't you dare take off my boots! Please, please, don't take off my boots!”
"What's the matter, little boy, afraid that I might tickle your feet?” chided the monster, "Because that's EXACTLY what I'm gonna do to you. I'm gonna tickle your feet until you turn ten shades of pink, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!” He was right, and Doug almost began to cry.
After taking off the left boot, the Bear did the same thing with the right one. The anticipation of what the Bear intended to do to him next was driving Doug mad with fearful anticipation, which was compounded by his opponent's taunts, "I'm gonna start by tickling your socked feet. I'm gonna tickle you all over those tootsies. Then, we'll see how ticklish your bare feet are!". "Please, sir! Have pity!” begged Doug, red with embarrassment at his pitiful condition. "Why, little boy? Are you ticklish on your tootsies?” mocked the Bear. "Yes! I admit it! I'm ticklish on my feet! Please, please, please, don't tickle my feet. Not my FEET!” cried Doug, but then it began. The bear began to run his fingers up and down Doug's white-socked feet, and Doug howled with ticklish laughter, and the crowd roared their approval.
Holding Doug's feet with the ankles crossed, the Bear's thighs up against Doug's bent knees, allowing them no room to pull away, and his left arm wrapped around the crossed legs, allowed the Bear to work over both socked feet at once with his free right hand, as Doug was unable to do much more than wiggle his toes and flex his soles at the tickling assault. "Mercy!” screamed Doug, "PLHEEHEEHEESE have MHEEHEERCY! I can't STHAAHAAND HEEHEET! Please, sthaahaap tickling mhaahaay FHEEHEEHEET!” "Oh, are the poor little boys feet ticklish?” teased the Bear, "Tell me how ticklish your feet are. Tell me now, or you'll really get it!” "I'm VERY theeheecklish!” admitted Doug, shame at his weakness filling his soul, "I'm SHUUHUUPER THEEHEEKLISH! Please SHAAHAAHAAP! I'm VERY ticklish, and I CHAAHAAHAAN'T STHAAHAAND HEEHEET!”
The Bear continued to dance his fingers all over the socked soles of Doug's poor feet for the next half hour. He continued to run his fingers up and down, up and down Doug's soles, as Doug screamed with laughter and pleaded for mercy, none of which was shown. Finally, he said over his shoulder, "Time to see how ticklish your BARE feet are, so off with those socks!” and, with that, he reached for the top of Doug's left white sock and ever so slowly began to peel it off his foot. Doug was terrified. He knew he was much more ticklish on his bare feet than on his socked ones, and he knew he had to do something, anything to keep it from happening.
"Please, please, please, please, please, don't take off my socks! Do ANYTHING you want to me. Screw me right here, in front of everyone. Tickle me anywhere else, for as long as you want, but PLEASE, for mercy sake, DON'T TICKLE MY BARE FEET! Not my BARE FEET!", begged Doug, as the crowd mocked him from all over the arena. "Please don't tickle my bare feet, mister", they yelled, "I'm a poor, weak, worthless excuse of a man. I'm just a little boy! Don't tickle my bare feet!", then they roared, followed by scornful laughter.
Once both socks had been removed, the Bear looked down at the sweaty, soft, smooth, long bare soles that tapered off to ten nice, long , well maintained toes that he held captive in front of him, and he knew he was going to have loads of fun, and it would all be at Doug's expense.
The Bear began to blow on his victims soles, which were so sensitized by the tickling through the socks that even this forced Doug to begin to giggle uncontrollably. "Gotta get these naked tootsies warmed up, don't we?", teased the brute, "But don't want much of the sweat to dry up. After all, warm, moist feet are the most ticklish, aren't they? Aren't they?", he demanded. "YHEEHEES! Wet fheet are mhoohoore THEEHEECKLISH!", screamed Doug, "Whatever yhoou SHAAHAAY! Please don't THEEHEECKLE my BHAAHAARE FHEEHEET!". "Shit yeah, I'm gonna tickle your bare feet!" announced the Bear, " I'm gonna tickle your bare feet until you turn 12 shades of pink. Hell, I might even tickle your bare feet until I've tickled you to DEATH!". with that, the full fledged tickle attack was launched against Doug's helpless bare feet, and Doug's hysterical laughter was at least ten decibels louder than it had been when the Bear was tickling his socked feet. He was slowly being tickled to death, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it, and the crowd was loving his torment!
The Bear was an expert foot tickler, and almost instinctively realized that his victim reacted best to a light, feather like touch. It drove him mad, especially when the Bear let his fingers wander around the base and in between Doug's toes, which he did, non-stop, for 20 minutes.
Then he began to draw circles and designs all over the bare soles of doug's poor, tortured feet, as he screamed with laughter and pleaded for the torment to stop, "PLHEEHEESE, NHOOHOO MHOOHOORE! YHOOHOORE KHEEHEELLING MHEEHEE! NOT THE THOOHOOES! I CHAAHAAN'T STHAAHAAND HEEHEET!HAAHAAHAAHEEHEE! MERCY! PLHEEHEESE, HAVE MHEEHEERCY! YOU'RE THEEHEECKLING MHEEHEE TO DHEEHEEHAATH!", to which the Bear smiled and replied, "Are the poor little boys bare tootsies ticklish? Aw, poor baby! Kitchy, kitchy, coo! Kitchy coo! Kitchy coo!, I'm having SO much fun tickling these smooth, soft bare feet! Tickle toes, tickle toes, tickle toes! Beg me to tickle your bare soles, or I'll tickle your toes for an HOUR! Beg, or die!"
Desperately, Doug screamed, "THEEHEECKLE MY SHOOHOOLES! TICKLE MHAAHAAY BARE SHOOHOOLES! PLHEEHEESE! Just STHAAHAAP THEEHEECKLING MY THOOHOOHOOHOOES! I can't STHAAHAAND THAAHAAHAAT! PLHEEHEESE tickle my SHOOHOOLES!". "Good boy!", continued the Bear, as he mercilessly lightly scratched Doug's naked soles, driving him out of his mind with ticklish agony.
After a long, long time, the Bear decided he would finish his poor opponent off. He pulled Doug's bare feet back toward himself, lowered his head, and slipped the toes of Doug's right foot into his mouth, slipping his tongue between Doug's toes, licking along the webbing, then up and down the sides, all the time wiggling his fingers in a feather like manner all over the pink soles of Doug's bare feet. To make matters worse, the Bear now brought his own bare toes against Doug's lower sides, his main 'sweet spot' on his upper body, and began to wiggle his toes all over on the naked skin. He was tickling Doug on five places at once, and all Doug could think about was why couldn't he die and end this agony.
After 15 minutes of this unbearable torture, the Bear finally took his mouth off of Doug's toes, stopped his assault on his sides, and simply ran his middle and index fingers up and down the soles of doug's bare feet, and asked, very softly, "Ya give?", to which Doug, now barely able to speak, screamed, "YHEEHES! I SURRENDER! HAAHAAHAAHAA! I GIVE UP! HEEHEEHEE! YHOOHOOU WIN! HAAHAAIE GHEEHEEVE HAAHAAP! I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!! HEEHEEHEEHAAHAAHAA!".
A massive smile formed on the Bears face. Winner and still champion! But he wasn't finished with his prey. Not yet.
"Submit!", the Bear demanded. Doug's mind, whirling about, his body in absolute ticklish agony, couldn't understand what else his opponent wanted from him. He had completely humiliated him, Doug thought, why is he still demanding more? But that couldn't matter at this time. Doug had to do anything and everything to make the tickle torture stop. "I SUBMIT! HEEHEEHEE! DYOU WIN! HAAHAAHAAHAA! I GIVE UP! I SURRENDER! I SUBMIT!HEEHEEHEEHAAHAAHAAHOOHOOHOO!", and Doug immediately began to slam his right hand down on the mat three times, his tortured mind remembering that this was the sign of submission "in wrestling. The crowd went crazy. They knew what the ref had meant when he said the loser was "on his own!".
The triumphant Bear gave his prize another two minutes of toe tickling to make sure he was tickled helpless, then he stood up, pushed his tickled helpless victim over on his back, and placed his own naked right foot on his conquered victims belly, holding his hands up in a sign of triumph, as the crowd went berserk! But he still wasn't done, and the crowd knew it, and loved every minute of the anticipation of what they knew was coming next.
The Bear quickly tickled Doug's stomach with his toes for about a minute or two, just to keep him completely helpless. The Bear had never forgotten that tent in Doug's shorts, and noticed that, even after hours of tickle torture, it was not only still there, but there was a distinct wet spot there, a sure sign of pre cum. He smiled fiendishly, reached down and grabbed the elastic rim of Doug's trunks, and, with a quick single motion, pulled them down his legs, over his tortured bare feet, and off his body. Doug was now only wearing his jock strap, but he was still way too weak to even think about doing anything about it.
Now, having his prize exactly how he wanted him, the Bear proceeded to get Doug where he wanted him. He again used his foot to flip Doug back on his stomach. Then he stood over him, at his waist, reached down, grabbed his helpless prize around the waist, and hoisted him up, laying Doug's back on his chest, and flinging his legs over his massive, hairy shoulders, so that Doug's left leg was over the Bear's right shoulder, and his right over his captors left, with both legs bent at the knees so Doug was being held upside down with his legs spread apart, no way to bring them together, and his 'family jewels', covered by nothing more than his stained jock strap, completely exposed. The crowd roared their approval. They knew what was coming. The Bear knew what was coming. Doug could only pray that what was coming was not going to be more barefoot tickling. He could stand anything but that. At least that's what he thought.
The crowd began to chant, and, hearing them, Doug began to scream, for they were chanting, "Milk him! Milk him! Milk him!". The Bear didn't keep his public waiting. Instantly, he moved his right hand over the area right between Doug's scrotum and rectum, an area almost totally unprotected by the jock strap, and, holding Doug in place with his massive left arm, began to tickle Doug on the exposed flesh there.
Doug had never been tickled on this spot before, and couldn't believe how much it tickled! He screamed with laughter, so much that he couldn't even form words to beg for mercy. Not that any would have been shown, and he knew that. As he laughed, his swollen penis kept pressing against the cloth of his jock strap. The more the Bear tickled, the more Doug squirmed, the more he squirmed, the more his member rubbed against the cloth, and the more it rubbed against the cloth, the closer he came to orgasm. After no more than ten minutes of this, Doug became rigid, left out a loud moan, and shot his load into his jock strap.
The Bear continued to tickle him until he was sure Doug had been milked dry, and the crowd was roaring its approval. Once he was convinced Doug was done, the Bear dropped his conquered victim to the mat, grabbed his ankles in an ankle lock and, announcing to Doug, "You know you are much more ticklish after you've cum, right?", began to go to work tickling Doug's soles with his fingers, while he used his teeth and tongue to torture Doug's ultra ticklish toes. The Bear was right. Doug couldn't believe it, but he WAS much more ticklish now that he had orgasmed, especially as his torturer was tickling him on his absolutely most ticklish spots. He was laughing so hard he couldn't even form words to beg the Bear to stop. all he could do was laugh and squirm in absolute ticklish agony.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Doug passed out, the sound of the crowd roaring, "Bear! Bear! Bear!', echoing in his brain.
When Doug finally came too, he was on a table in his dressing room, naked, with a towel draped over his privates. Artie was sitting in the corner, and when he realized his wrestler was coming around, he walked over to the table. "You alright, kid?", he asked, "I told you this wasn't going to be a normal bout, but you wouldn't listen, so don't blame me. For whatever it's worth, they loved you and want you back next week to take on Freddy Tickler. He wears gloves with feathers on each finger, and uses them to tickle his opponents pink.
I told them I was sure you wouldn't be interested, though". Doug looked at his agent in total disbelief.
"Are you kidding?", he asked, "Where do I sign!".
THE END ?
