The door creaked open and the cool air inside swept out with a fury. My buddy was laying on the floor in front of me, totally relaxed, his arms and legs outstretched casually.

"How are you doing, Sam, old buddy?" I called out playfully as I reached down and stroked my hand through the fur covering his chest. He moaned softly and stretched his limbs out even more, warming to my touches. I dragged my finger nails down his furry belly as he purred softly. Sam was a great, old cat owned by my friend, John. John was out of town for a few days and asked me to watch his place and feed the cat. I was happy to oblige.

After feeding Sam and watering the plants, I scaled the winding staircase up to his bedroom. John was coming home tonight and it was my last opportunity to check out a video from his incredible flicks collection. John and I shared a common, albeit unusual, fetish--tickling. Guys in particular. Preferably while they are bound and completely helpless to stop us.

We had met a few years ago through a mutual friend and had become fast friends, even beyond our common sexual interest. So helping out with his cat while he was gone was no problem. And it gave me a chance to watch a film from his sizable collection of tickling videos.

Flicking on the TV, popping in an old favorite pulled from his stache of tickling paraphanalia stored in his large closet, I laid down on the bed and fast forwarded to my favorite parts. As I watched the movie, my mind began to wander. Then IT hit me--what an incredible way to surprise John upon his return! But I had to get busy if i were going to pull it off. I clicked the VCR off and jumped up to put my plan in action.

An hour and a half later I sat at the bar, polishing off a beer and wondering why not one single decent guy was hanging out in this popular gay bar. As I took the last swig, I looked at the clock on the wall to my left, and realized that John would be home in little more than an hour--I had struck out on fulfilling my little plan.

I thumped the empty glass down on the counter and began to reach for my money to pay when I heard a deep, masculine voice to my right offer "buy you another one?" I turned to look at the bar stool to my right and was pleasantly surprised to spy one of the best looking guys I'd ever seen this side of an after shave commercial or cigarette billboard. He looked to be around 30, had close cropped black hair, chiseled features, penetrating blue eyes, dimples and a million dollar smile.

I was awestruck and could manage only to nod my head "yes" as the stranger sat on the stool beside me. I was struck by how much he looked like Tom Cruise. "Give him another of the same, I'll have a Lite," the stranger instructed the bartender. This time, I detected a distinctively Brooklyn accent.

I finally found my voice enough to speak. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a LOT like..."

"Tom Cruise?" he interrupted. "All the time. I'm not, though. And I can prove it." He swiveled his stool around to face me and give me a full frontal view. I no doubt gawked at the sight before me. This guy was incredibly hot--he obviously worked out. He had a perfectly tapered V-shaped torso, with muscular, powerful arms and chest and a rippling set of abs that looked like they came right off da Vinci's modern man illustration.

He was wearing jeans, a leather vest sans the shirt, providing a fantastic view of the shimmering matte of silky, black hair spreading out across his maculine chest and cascading sexily down his rippling abs like a waterfall spilling out across his belly. "If you've ever seen him shirtless, you know he's just not 'man enough' to sport a matte like this," he continued with a deep, cocky laugh as he swept his hand through the rug covering his chest, leaving a swirling wake pattern behind the path of his hand.

This guy was definitely a tad conceited, but understandbly so. I mean, shit, he obviously put some work into that body. The tough-guy accent he had inherited only amplified his attitude, but his killer smile made it hard to not find the guy appealing. This guy definitely knew he was hot. I had seen his kind before--I'm sure he uses his awesome looks and body to get places in life. This is just the kind of guy I instantly like and hate at the same time, lust and jealousy sparring with each other.

The bartender slid another beer in front of me. "Thanks for the beer, uh..."

"Jack," he replied, filling in my blank. "Jack Steele." He reached his hand out to shake mine

"Matt," I replied, shaking his powerful hand. "Jack Steele? Sounds like an actor. Is that what you do in life?"

He cocked his head back and laughed as he took a swig of his beer. "No, no. Nothing like that. Nothing quite so high class."

"Okay, wait, don't tell me, let me guess. Hmmm...." I looked him up and down while considering possible occupations. He knew I was admiring his body and he enjoyed the attention. "I know, I bet you work in construction. That's probably how you managed to carve such impressive abs like these."

I punctuated my comment about his stomach by sticking my hand out in a U shape and playfully scraping/poking my finger tips across his stomach parallel with his belly button, my finger nails scraping through the coating of hair lining his bare skin. Frankly, I was caught off guard by his reaction--he almost spit his beer out as he yelped and giggled nervously, his whole stomach spasming uncontrollably as he swung his body back away from my fingers.

I smelled a weakness in this tougher-than-nails stud and decided to pounce. "Shit, Jack! You must really be ticklish!" I teased, as I thrust both hands out and began attacking his belly with my finger tips using a light pinching, poking gesture. This tough stud lost it, exploding with laughter and crying out for me to "cut it out!" as he lunged to put his beer down safely on the bar while at the same time his whole body twisted and thrust backward to avoid my touches.

I kept attacking and laughed at his vulnerability. He lost his balance while trying to escape my touches, falling off the stool backwards and reaching down with his hands to grab my wrists and stop me from tickling him. I laughed out loud at his reaction as I backed off, pulling my hands back and eventually twisting free from his determined grip.

He laughed sheepishly, somewhat embarrassed by his lack of cool during the whole incident, as he picked himself back up on to the stool, ran his fingers self-consciously through his moussed hair, grabbed his beer and threw back a swill. He nervously scratched his belly as if to erase the ticklish touches. "Sorry," he said nervously. "I...I guess I'm a bit ticklish."

"A bit?!" I countered, followed by a cocky laugh. "Shit, I bet you were an easy mark growing up. Sure hope you didn't have an older brother?" I was fully enjoying the opportunity to see this cocky stud humbled. He just rolled his eyes at my question, apparently recalling memories from his childhood.

"Fuck, are you kidding? Two!" he exclaimed with a laugh, lightening up a bit. "God, they were merciless, pinning me down and tickling the shit out of me! It was unbearable. Why do you think I bulked up like this?" He winked and flashed his familiar smile, regaining confidence and composure and ready to bring the conversation back to a more comfortable subject. "So you still haven't guessed what I do for a living?"

"So it's not construction then. Hell, I don't know, it could be anything really. Can you give me some hints?"

"Okay." He thought for a moment while sucking on his beer mug. "Let me explain it this way, Matt...you've confused cause with effect." I looked at him puzzled, not quite understanding his comment. "You're assuming that I have this body as a result of my work when, the truth of the matter is, I have to maintain a body like this in order to keep getting work in my field."

"Oh," I replied, getting his point. "Then, are you a...model?" I was sure I had guessed it.

"Well," he replied with a smile that suggested I hadn't guessed it. "I suppose in some situations that would be true, but not in the sense you are thinking." The sly smile on his face told me he was thoroughly enjoying the game we were playing, as he kept me guessing. However, it was not completely making sense to me and I could feel the pressure of time as John was going to be returning home soon and this guy was absolutely perfect for what I had in mind.

"Jesus, I don't know," I replied exasperated. "It could still be anything." I looked at him as a wicked smile came over my face. "I don't know, maybe I should just TICKLE it out of you!" I laughed and held my hands up, fingers wiggling menacingly to taunt him.

"No, no!" he protested instantly, uncomfortably. "That won't be necessary. Let me give you another hint, one that'll be even clearer. Let's say I'm in the business of making dreams come true." He flashed an exaggerated wink to make his point clearer.

"Hmmm..."

"I could even make YOUR dream come true...tonight!" he added making his point crystal clear.

"Oh! Geez, now it seems so obvious." I laughed at myself for being so dense. This was perfect. "So, er, what's the 'going rate' for making dreams come true?"

"Fifty bucks for an hour."

"And what if I wanted ALL of my dreams tonight to come true?" His face lit up, seeing he had hit the jackpot.

"Well, well, well. A big spender, huh? For you, two-fifty." He threw down his final swallow of beer.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a wad of twenties and began counting them discreetly to confirm how much money I had with me. "One-eighty, two, two-twenty," I finished counting. "That's all I got. Interested?"

He paused for a moment to consider the counter offer, slowly looking me up and down. "Sure. You're pretty hot yourself. I think I'll enjoy myself this evening."

"I have no doubt." Killing the rest of my beer, I thrust the money in his hand and we walked out of the bar to my car. We drove back to John's place while maintaining a casual conversation of mostly small talk.

"Nice place," he commented as we walked into the living room.

"What's his name?" Jack asked as he reached down and petted John's cat.

"Sam. Wanna' beer?"

"Sure."

"Why dontcha' go on upstairs and make yourself comfortable while I get some beers for us?"

Jack nodded and promptly scaled the circular staircase up to the bedroom. I went to the refrigerator, plucked out a couple of beers and then took a small vial from my pocket. I opened the vial and poured the powder into one of the beers, stirring it around a bit until it dissolved into the beer. "That should do the trick!" I said to myself, as I picked up the tainted beer with my right hand, the other beer with my left and carefully navigated the tight staircase.

I looked up as I entered the bedroom and almost dropped the bottles in my hand out of surprise at the vision before me. There lay Jack, now completely naked and sprawled out on the bed, his hands casually tucked behind his head, his magnificent body in full view and clearly on display. He had a big, eager grin on his handsome face. "Shit, you sure don't waste any time!" I exclaimed with a laugh as I walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. I swung his beer down to his vulnerable belly and touched the ice cold bottle against his fur-covered belly. "Here's you beer!" I added with a wink. Predictably, he jumped and laughed nervously, swinging his arms down instantly and grabbing the beer from my hand and away from his stomach.

"To making dreams come true!" I offered as a toast, swinging my bottle down toward his. He sat up, smiled coyly and clinked his bottle against mine.

"May all of yours come true tonight," he replied confidently, as he took a big swig of the beer. "So, what might those dreams be?"

"Actually, first, I have to use the john. Why don't you relax, enjoy the beer and I'll be back in a minute." I entered the bathroom and closed the door. After taking a wiz, I hung out in the bathroom, washing my hands and face, and trying to give him some time to make headway with his spiked beer.

As I stalled for time, I suddenly heard other voices and laughter coming from the room. My heart jumped at that moment as I realized I had stupidly left one of John's bondage and tickling videos in the VCR and Jack must have let curiosity get the best of him!

"Shit!" I cried out to myself as I came exploding out of the bedroom, "if he sees what I have in mind, he'll get the hell out of here in a heartbeat." I found Jack laying on the bed, propped up on his arms, watching the video and with a curious look on his face.

"Christ, Matt!" Jack said when he saw me, "You're really into this tickling shit aren't you?!" I was somewhat relieved when I realized his speech was greatly slurred. I looked at his bottle and it was half empty. "Uh...if that's what you...have in mind, well....I'm not into...I mean, uh, that wasn't..." The drug was starting to take effect and Jack was so groggy he wasn't even able to finish his sentence. I moved quickly to the bed, grabbed the remote from his hand and the beer from his other hand setting it down on the nightstand.

"Don't worry Jack, you just lie down here and rest," I offered calmly, patting him on his shoulder as he slumped back on the bed.

"God, I'm suddenly slo seepy..." he struggled as his eyes closed and he soon settled into the slow, deep breathing of a person who is sound asleep. I breathed a deep sigh of relief, my heart still pounding at the near collapse of my plan. The sound of wild laughter mixed with "no, stop, don't, please" and other pleadings oozed out of the television across the room. I looked over and saw what Jack had just discovered--a hunky guy, tied up spread-eagled while another guy tickled the shit out of him.

"God, that was damned close!" I muttered to myself, shutting off the TV and jumping to action. I glanced at the clock and realized that John was due home any moment. I went to the closet and began fishing through his treasure chest of tickling goodies until I found four sets of leather wrist and ankle restraints.

Moving to the bed where Jack slept soundly, his ripped body sprawled out comfortably, I quickly attached the restraints to the four posters of the very solid brass bed. I pulled Jack's arm out and up, pulling it to the waiting restraint. I slipped the leather band around his thick wrist and securely fastened the straps. I repeated this step with his other wrist and then moved to the foot of the bed. Grasping his ankles, I heaved his body toward me until his arms were pulled taut against the restraints fastened to the bed with chains. I wrapped the chain a couple of times around the post and then pulled his leg outward, slipping the leather cuff around his ankle and snapping it into place.

The restraint was perfectly spaced so that his leg was tautly stretched outward. I repeated this action with his other ankle and then sat on the end of the bed admiring the sight before me--Jack's incredible nude body helplessly bound in a spread-eagled position, and completely vulnerable. I looked down at his perfectly arched, size 11 foot. Never one to resist an opportunity like this, I took my finger nail and slowly dragged it up the length of his bare sole. His foot flexed reactively and he muttered and giggled softly.

"Shit, I bet his feet are even more ticklish than his stomach. Man, this is going to be some night!" I took the beers downstairs and disposed of the bottles. I scribbled the following note and put it on top of John's answering machine:

"Hi John, welcome back! I got a little surprise for you. I left it upstairs on your bed. Hope you enjoy it! -- Matt"

Then I scribbled another note and returned upstairs to my sleeping beauty. Threading a string through a corner of the note, I tied the other end of the string to Jack's big toe, which wasn't easy since it kept flexing as I touched his toe and foot. Then, I grabbed the video camera and went into the closet where I set the camera up so that I had a perfect view of Jack. I closed the door until the camera wasn't visible but just peeked out one end, and settled in to wait for John's return.

While I waited in the dark, occaisionally glancing at the eye-popping sight of this stud restrained helplessly on the bed, I found my dick getting rock hard anticipating the fun we would have this evening. Picking up a flashlight I'd brought with me, I began peeking through John's extensive collection of tickling paraphanalia, magazines, videos and pictures. Come to think of it, I didn't really mind the wait. It wasn't long before I felt the wall behind me shake from the front door closing downstairs.

Flipping off the flashlight, I looked through the viewfinder of the video camera knowing it would not be long before John found my note and came upstairs to discover the surprise awaiting him. I clicked the camera on and began shooting the scene, zooming in on the soundly sleeping adonis on the bed, getting a nice tight shot of his rippling stomach slowly bobbing up and down, slowly panning up his hairy torso to his powerful chest, exposed armpits and up to the cuffs holding his wrists prisoner.

Just then, I heard John ascending the staircase so I panned the camera around to the top of the stairs to capture his reaction. It was priceless. As he rounded the stairs and looked up to spy the sight before him, his jaw dropped and he actually exclaimed out loud "What the fuck?" And then his face erupted into one of the biggest grins I've ever seen him flash as he set his bags down and rubbed his hands together with glee and anticipation. He truly looked like the proverbial kid in the candy store.

Spying the tag hanging from the prisoner's toe, John moved to the bed and sat down by his legs. He pulled the toe tag off allowing his finger nail to scrape up the guy's bare foot causing him to stir once again and murmer but not wake up. John read the tag aloud.

"Surprise! His name is Jack. He did not end up in this position willfully. He's paid for and yours for the evening. Enjoy! Matt. P.S. Yes, of COURSE he's ticklish! Extremely so!  P.S.S. I think he could use a little attitude adjustment, and I KNOW you'll know just how to do it. P.S.S.S. I'll expect a full report in the morning."

John laughed out loud, thoroughly enjoying the present before him as he began to envision the fun he would have that night. After a quick trip to the bathroom, John returned to the bedroom and stopped once again to drink in the intoxicating scene, rubbing his bulging crotch with his hand. I smiled as I captured his reaction on video. He unbuttoned his shirt in response to the warm, July Florida evening revealing his appealing torso. John is also in good shape, trim and compact as an avid runner should be, a light dusting of hair splattered across his chest and flat stomach.

He sat down on the bed beside the outstretched hunk and began lightly dragging his finger tip through the luxurious carpet of fur on Jack's muscular chest, following a random pattern that brought him to the guy's right nipple, which John began encircling with his fingertip, occaisionally tickling the purplish tip as it swelled in size. As the path of John's finger trailed down to the sleeping beauty's ribcage, Jack's body shuddered and moved in response to the light strokes and pokes between his tender ribs.

John eventually continued his trek up Jack's side to his armpit, where John's fingernail parted the sea of thick hair and scraped unchecked against Jack's apparently highly sensitive skin. I say apparently because Jack's reactions increased in intensity, his body twisting against the restraints while he muttered in his deep sleep, even giggling at times. John smiled at the reactions he was receiving.

After a few minutes, he dragged his fingertips back down Jack's side until he reached his belly, where he began tracing random patterns across, around and down his taut abs, swooshing lightly through the matte of swirling hair adorning Jack's stomach. Jack's body began twisting again, much like it did when John tickled his armpit, his abdomen spasming uncontrollably whenever John managed to strike a particularly sensitive spot. His laughter seemed even more pronounced, and I could swear I heard a distinct "No" and "Stop" in Jack's otherwise unintelligible mutterings.

After a few minutes, John moved down to Jack's sleeping dick, laying flaccid yet still fairly long and thick. I smiled as John lightly stroked the shaft and head causing it to quickly rise to attention. As John reached his fingertips under Jack's swelling balls, giving them a little tickle, the knocked out hunk stirred slightly and moaned. John decided not to treat him to any more pleasure and swept his finger tips down Jack's thigh.

Frankly, there didn't appear to be a non-ticklish spot on Jack's body as, once again, his leg twisted while he slept and soft giggles erupted from his mouth. As I swept in for video close-ups of John's slow, teasing exploration of his victim's body, I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on in Jack's dreams as he slept.

John stretched out on the bed so that his face and hands were handlily at Jack's helpless bare foot. I knew John was enjoying the sight before him--John is not only into tickling but feet in general, and I'm sure his mind was racing with ideas for this hunk's perfect specimen of a masculine foot. He took his fingernail and slowly began dragging it up the unconscious victim's sole, stopping at his long, sculptured toes and dragging it back down in a path than ran parallel and a few centimeters to the side of his previous path.

As John's fingernail repeated this agonizing movement up and down Jack's bare foot, I panned back and forth with the video camera capturing both the instinctive twitching and writhing of his foot and the reaction on 'Sleeping Beauty's' rugged face as he giggled, muttered and swung his head back and forth, obviously bothered intensely by John's tickling but hopelessly unable to break free from the drug-induced sleep that held him prisoner.

I was surprised just how toxic the drug I'd slipped him turned out to be. I knew that if he were awake, his reactions would be ten times as dramatic and frantic.  John stopped his tickling after about a minute and got up, moving to the bathroom. He returned with a small container in his hand, pulled up a chair beside the bed where Jack lay and sat down choosing a backwards, cocky position with his legs thrown around the back of the chair, his arms resting on the top of the back.

"It's time for you to wake up, boy!" John muttered softly as he opened the container and placed it under Jack's nose. Jack began sputtering and rocking his head from side to side.

"Smelling salts!" I exclaimed silently, suddenly realizing what John was up to. Jack began waking in a groggy, confused state. John just smiled at him, putting the smelling salt container down on the nightstand beside the bed, allowing Jack to focus and grasp the situation he was in.

After a few seconds of confusion, Jack tried pulling his arms down and discovered the restraints holding his arms and legs in place. He began waking much faster, a panic setting in as he pulled harder at the restraints and looked around the room anxiously trying to figure out where the hell he was.

"Hey, what the hell..?" he sputtered, eyeing John sitting beside him. "Who are you?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you the very same thing," John replied matter-of-factly.

"Wh-why? Wh-what? Wh-who?" was all he could manage to stammer as he desperately tried to grasp the situation and assess the damage. "Where is Matt?"

"Matt?" John asked with surprise. "I don't know. He doesn't live here."

"But...but...he said this was his house!"

"His house?" John answered with a laugh. "This is my house. Matt takes care of my plants and cats when I travel. He told you this was HIS house? Hmmm....I'm going to have to have a word with him."

"But who are you....and why do you have me tied up? This wasn't part of my deal with Matt!" Jack was looking more and more panicked as he struggled to understand what was going on. Suddenly nothing made sense.

"Your DEAL? I don't know anything about a deal. In fact, I have NO idea why you are tied up. Geez, for that matter, I have no idea WHO you are? I'm thinking I should call the cops and report a trespasser." John was playing dumb with the finesse of a five-star Thespian.

"Look, man, I don't know what you two are up to but this isn't funny. Now, untie me and I'll give you back the money Matt paid me and we'll part friends. I'm not interested in playing your little game." Jack's anger and anxiety appeared to be rising precipitously.

"You know, buddy," John replied, also appearing a little annoyed at the demands of the stranger, "you have quite a bit of attitude. Let's get a few things straight here. First, I have no idea why you are here and what Matt had in mind. This is not some 'game' we're playing. Second, if I'm understanding you correctly, it sounds like you must be a hustler and Matt paid you for the evening, fair and square. I don't know what he paid you, but I'd certainly say he got his money's worth as you are very hot!" John gave him a wink and smile, thoroughly enjoying his catbird seat view. "And third," John continued, "take a look around. You're not in any fucking position to be making demands and giving me lip, understand?"

Jack looked desperate, realizing he was in some serious shit here and didn't know what this stranger's motives were. "Look, uh...."

"John."

"Look, John. Your buddy did pay me, but bondage was never a part of our deal. Had he asked, instead of drugging me, I would have flatly refused, returned his money and split." Jack was making an attempt at being a tad more humble. "Now, please, I'm asking nicely, just let me go and there will be no trouble."

"Trouble?" John smiled. "Well, I don't know, but it sure looks like you're already in trouble to me. Frankly, I'm quite curious why Matt decided he needed to tie you up in the first place. And since he paid you for the evening, I have every intention of finding out." John winked at Jack and slowly began to brush his finger tips through the luxurious matte of hair covering Jack's muscular, sexy chest.

"No, c'mon!" Jack protested, obviously frustrated at his inability to be in control and fact that John was totally unphased by his threats and demands. He began thrashing around, futiley yanking on the bonds holding him prisoner. He finally stopped, his chest heaving from his exertion of futility, becoming resigned to his fate. "Fine, let's get this over with," he barked, regaining a bit of his attitude. "I suppose you want me to suck you off or something, right?"

John laughed heartily at his prisoner's simplistic reasoning. "Oh, sure, eventually," he replied with amusement, getting out of the chair and sitting on the bed beside Jack's torso. "But first, I want to figure out what exactly Matt knew you would never have let me do to you were you not tied up. I mean, that must be the reason he went to the trouble to put you in this position, right?. I'm not particularly into bondage so he wouldn't have just done it without reason. No, you must have some weakness or fear that he wanted me to discover and exploit. You know, you could save yourself a lot of trouble and just tell me what it is."

Jack was somewhat flabbergasted at John's devious logic, but also regaining his cockiness. "Oh yeah? Fuck you!" I could tell that Jack liked exerting a little verbrado, even if he was powerless to stop John from doing whatever he wanted to. It was his only way to wrestle back a little control.

"Hmmm...there's that attitude of yours!" John cooed, a devilish smile erupting on his face. "Something tells me that before I'm through, you'll have made a major attitude adjustment. Perhaps pain and domination is your achilles heel, hmmm?" John went from stroking Jack's hairy chest to pinching his nipple between his forefinger and thumb."

The prisoner stud proved fearless, however, rising to the challenge (literally even, I couldn't help notice!), barely flinching from John's infliction of pain. Adding insult to injury, Jack even smiled. A strong, cocky smile in keeping with his tough guy exterior. "You don't scare me, you pussy queer boy!"

John was taken aback at first by his captive's flash of major attitude and taunts. Then an evil smile flashed over his face, as he realized that Jack was playing right into his hand. He glanced down to note Jack's dick rising a bit; apparently Jack was enjoying seizing control even when he was out of control.

"God, you've got a gut full of attitude in you boy! That's alright, you just keep it up," John invited as he began lightly stroking Jack's half-erect member causing it to begin growing to full size. "Cause I'm going to discover a weakness in you, and when I do, we'll see how cocky you'll be then. Geez, it sure don't take much to get you aroused, does it?" John laughed at how his prisoner's tool was standing straight up.

"Yeah, that's my weakness," Jack fired back sarcastically. "I can't stand to be jerked off. Please, oh please, don't touch me there any more!" Jack was mocking John's attempt at dominance and seemed to thoroughly enjoy not buying into it.

"Very funny!" John retorted, not terribly amused by Jack's mockery.

"We'll see who gets the last laugh." John stopped stroking Jack's excited cock. "Now let me think. What would I fear most if I were tied up and helpless like you?" John thought silently for a moment.

"Probably that your mommy would walk in and see you like this, you panty wad!" Jack retorted with a chuckle, really getting into the show of attitude.

"There you go again with that sorry sense of humor. Notice I'm not laughing," John replied sarcastically. "Wait a minute!" He sat up as though a light bulb went off in his head. Frankly, I was impressed with John's acting ability and delighted I was getting the entire scene on video! "Laughter? That's it! God, I'm so ticklish that if the situation were reversed and I were at your mercy, I'd be scared to death that you'd TICKLE ME!" John's eyes lit up, secretly knowing he'd hit upon Jack's greatest weakness.

Jack cleared his throat nervously and shifted a little on the bed, instinctively testing the restraints. "Uh, yeah, well I'm not surprised," he stammered, sounding a little less confident than before. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not ticklish. So you'll just have to try something else."

"No?" John queried, a devilish smirk beaming from his face. "Not even a little?" He began to lightly poke and stroke Jack's exposed rib cage to test for reaction..

Jack instinctively jumped slightly but remained stoic. "Nope," he replied, trying to sound convincing. "What other tricks you got up your sleeve?"

"Shoot, I'm not ready to give up on this just yet," John countered, sliding his fingers down and across Jack's furry, rippling abs. He appeared to hit a couple of ticklish 'land mines' causing Jack's stomach to involuntarily spasm. Jack emitted a little gasp with each strike, clinching his teeth while trying to ignore the ticklish touches.

"Forget it chump!" he fired back trying to dissuade John from continuing his tickling test. "I'm not ticklish!" His occasional reactions and slight squirming movements belied his protests. "Maybe you should go back to pain."

John knew that anyone who would REQUEST pain instead of tickling must be super ticklish. "I don't know," John countered stubbornly, refusing to give up. "At first, even I can hold back and not laugh but with a little persistence and hitting the right spots, anyone can get me to laugh. I just need to find a true weak spot, I think..." John allowed his fingertip to travel up Jack's side again to his armpit, where it began strumming through the long hairs lining the deep, oustretched and vulnerable cavity of his pit. Jack began twisting more noticeably, suggesting that John had indeed found a weak spot.

"Nah, c'mon!" Jack protested, his voice getting a little higher and louder. "Y-y-you're wasting your time, I'm telling you." He was really gritting his teeth now, trying to ignore the tortuous sensations. John knew he was only seconds from breaking.

"I don't think so," John replied confidently. "No, I think you ARE ticklish and are very close to proving it."

"No!" Jack protested, starting to swing his head back and forth, his clenched teeth forming a contorted smile. "I'm NOT t-t-t-icklish! I'm nau-ah-ahhhh-aaaaaaaaah..." His protests dissolved into laughter as John stepped up his attack joining with his other hand at Jack's side. The prisoner gave in to the sensations and roared with laughter, letting all of his pent up reactions explode in a deep, baritone, manly release of helpless laughter.

I rubbed my swollen cock while furiously filming the entire scene. John looked supremely triumphant as he allowed his hands to roam Jack's ticklish torso which bounced up and down off the bed and thrashed at the restraints forcing him to endure this most hideous punishment. Jack's laughter filled the room, intermixed occasionally with a pitiful plea for John to stop, as John's expert hands discovered that pretty much every spot on Jack's muscular torso was hopelessly ticklish.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," John taunted, "looks like you're not ticklish, asshole!" Jack seemed to laugh even harder and thrash more madly, knowing he had been defeated and realizing he was due for an unbearable session of payback for his attitude. John climbed up on top of the bed, mounting Jack at his waist and pinning him firmly against the bed with the weight of his body. He resumed his tickling attack on Jack's hairy torso. Jack gave him quite a ride, bouncing him up and down and around as he reacted to the tortuous attack John was inflicting. With John's body on top of him, Jack wasn't able to twist nearly as much and was forced to endure an even more relentless attack.

The sound of Jack's deep voice bellowing with laughter filled the room as John settled in for a prolonged tickling attack, his fingers dancing expertly across his hapless victim's torso. I actually felt sorry for Jack as John dished out the most intense 15-minute torture session I was certain this tough guy had ever experienced. He was hoarse with laughter, sweat drenching his body as he twisted madly and yanked futiley at his restraints.

By the time John gave the poor guy a break, he could barely breath, his massive chest heaving up and down, his soaked matte of hair glistening in the light. As he caught his breath, he would giggle uncontrollably every now and then, the sensations' residual effect still at work. John climbed off of Jack, unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them to the floor, his fully erect cock springing forward from his boxer underwear. He was obviously enjoying the present I had left him.

''Pl...ple...please! No more,'' Jack begged as oxygen filled his lungs. ''I can't take any more.''

''Oh, sure you can!'' John replied heartlessly, sitting down on the bed beside his bound victim. ''Lookee here, somebody sure seems excited!'' John teased, stroking his fingertip up Jack's half-erect dick. He began stroking Jack's shaft until it filled to full size. John reached down and began tickling Jack's balls and he began giggling, his body now highly sensitized. Soon, John allowed his fingertips to trail down Jack's thigh, causing him to erupt with stronger laughter.

''No, no more!'' he pleaded, although he realized it would have little effect. Sure enough, John continued trailing his fingertips down Jack's leg, playing with his jumpy knee for a minute and then moving towards his bare foot. ''Aw, shit! No, not my feet!'' Jack insisted as John's roving fingers came dangerously closer. John just smiled, a devious smile on his face as he allowed his fingertips to begin grazing softly up and down the top of Jack's foot.

Jack began giggling, the sensations building quickly. ''Please! I'll do anything! ... ah haahh.... no, you bastard!....ha ha aha ha ...son of a bitch, not my...haaaaaaa...soles...hahahahahahahhhahah... you fucker....hahahahahahhah...'' John's fingers had crossed over and were now dancing merrily up and down Jack's wriggling sole as he burst into hysterical laughter once more.

His feet proved to be his most sensitive spot yet, causing Jack to once again thrash around and twist at his restraints while roaring with laughter and pleading for John to stop. Thus began a grueling 15 minutes of torture for Jack, as John explored every single inch of both soles, alternating between the right and the left one. I thought Jack would die as he endured what must have been the worst kind of hell for him he could never have imagined.

When John stopped, Jack continued to emit residual giggles again for a few minutes as he struggled to catch his breath. He was clearly beaten now and totally surrendered to John.

''Please.'' It was all he could manage, his eyes aching for mercy.

''Y'know, perhaps you COULD use a little break,'' John offered.

''You mean you'll let me go?'' His eyes perked up with hope.

''Oh, hell, no!'' John laughed. ''I just meant I'd switch to feathers!''

I smiled. John's feather collection was sitting next to me in the closet. ''Guess it's time to join the fun,'' I mused as John walked toward the closet where I was waiting..