BansheeBoyy

23/UK/GAY TICKLE SWITCH minors DNI

[bansheeboyy]

Jesus Christ. 20 years old and you’re still cyber-bullying people? At your big age? What a pussy. And such a scrawny little twerp, too. I can see why you hide behind a screen; in real life you’d get pummelled if you tried anything like that, but you’re Mr Big Man online, aren’t ya?

A little pussy who thought he could bully my daughter and get away with it. More fool you. Not so cocky now are you, son? For someone who gets a kick outta being a cunt online, you sure are bad at hiding your IP address. Your daddy’s e-calendar was pretty simple too. How are they enjoying Spain, by the way?

And once I got here, you were kind enough to leave a key under the plant pot out front. So sweet.

It’s almost like you wanted to get caught.

It’s almost like you knew, deep down, that someone had to punish you for your sins.

Well here I am.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I took your socks off. Your shirt.

It’s because I’m going to tickle you. You wanna act like a pussy, I’ll make you a pussy. I’m gonna break your spirit using the most milquetoast torture around.

Skinny little thing like you, I’ll have you begging in minutes. Crying in under 20. Those soles look soft as silk, and sensitive as hell. Son, you’re going to promise me the world to get me to stop tickling you.

Too bad I won’t be able to hear you through your gag.

If only you could type it out instead. You seem pretty good at that…

[bansheeboyy]

Must be quite the ego-check for two strong men to be subdued and restrained so easily. They had always thought of themselves as defenders, guardians. They went to the gym, they ate well, they stayed fit; if anything ever happened, they’d be ready to step up to the plate as men and protect the things they held dearest.

They were realising how wrong they were.

Now they’re tied up tightly, rope rubbing against their wrists and ankles, tape gagging them quiet as their younger bro - the nerdy one, less buff, less masculine - is stripped naked, tied by his wrists to the veranda and subjected to sadistic tickling. To their pride he puts on a brave face at first, but nobody can resist such intense tickling for long. Eventually the scribbling in his wide-open pits, the squeezing of this thighs, the brushing of his soft soles sends him into peals of desperate laughter. Tickling can be intense for a few minutes; for hours it is torture. The brothers watch on in frustrated horror as their sibling is broken in front of them, his weak spots found and exploited savagely. When, in the hormonal, adrenaline-fuelled confusion of a naked tickle attack, his cock inflates slightly, the intruders smirk and feather him to full erection, then to gasping, then to full, screaming, reluctant orgasm. He’s even more sensitive afterwards.

The two gym bros can do nothing but watch as the hours pass and their slim counterpart is broken utterly.

At the start they strained, growled, frowned, thrashed in their bonds. By the end they looked on in shocked defeat, a tear rolling down their cheeks.

Through it all, they never suspected that they were next. And by the time the second brother had been strung up and broken, hopefully their daddy would be back just in time to watch the third. Then all three naked, sticky, exhausted lads could watch their role model tickled to tears…and several other bodily fluids.

Tickle torture is always more fun with a captive audience, and who’s a better audience than family?

[bansheeboyy]

“I’m so surprised you let me tie you up on the first date. Must be one horny boy. Or maybe I’m just that charming. Either way, I have no idea how you’re gonna say your safeword through that gag…but that’s not my problem, is it? All I’m worried about is finding and ravaging all your most ticklish spots before your friends begin to wonder where you are…so…? Around tomorrow afternoon?

Yeah, I think I can break you well before then.”

“MMMPHHHHH!”

[bansheeboyy]

Wow. That audio file you gave the intern to listen to as part of his ‘induction’ actually fucking worked. Your pal had told you about it, said at his firm it worked like a charm, but you were sceptical. Hypnosis? Really? But goddamn, he was right.

You gave the clueless hottie some company headphones, sent him the file and watched as over the next thirty minutes his eyes glazed over, then flickered, and his mouth drooped open. Nice trick, but you weren’t buying it. Still you had to test it. You swooped by his desk quickly, casually, said something fast and quiet. ‘Mitchell, my office, five minutes. No shoes or socks.’

If it worked, wonderful. If not, plausible deniability. Did I say don’t wear socks? No I’m pretty sure I said don’t get lost. A joke. You must have misheard.

There was no need for denials. Five minutes later and there he was, barefoot, the headphones still hanging around his neck. Jesus Christ. The image of him suited smartly with his gorgeous feet bare took your breath away.

‘Mitchell. Come in, make yourself comfortable.’ You said, closing the door and shutting the blinds. ‘You can prop your feet on the desk if you like.’ Still not convinced it was real; maybe he was just a very obedient little intern.

You sat in your chair as the lad laid his gorgeous soles on your desk, ankles crossed in front of you.

Your mouth gaped. No objections, no hesitation, no doubts. Just plain obedience.

Was it real? Truly? He’d do anything?

‘Slap yourself.’ The lad whacked himself across the face. You gasped.

’Masturbate.’ A hand instantly slid into his waistband and started fondling.

‘Stop!’ And the hand retracted.

Good god. This wasn’t some desperate-to-please little slut of an intern, this was mind control. Real, actual hypnosis. If what your friend said was true - and it seemed pretty damn true so far - the next two hours he would obey every command and have no memory of the events. You owed your friend a drink, or maybe a yacht.

‘Are you ticklish, Mitchell?’

‘Very, Mr Clark.’

Your boner practically made a boing sound as it inflated.

‘Come lie here and put your feet in my lap.’

The man obeyed.

You started running your fingers up and down his silky soft soles, and they were as sensitive as they looked. His desperate laughter was genuine; you gave no instruction to laugh. Or beg. You shivered with arousal.

‘PLEAHSE, Mr Clark! Stohohohop! AhHahaHhhHA! No!’

‘Do you hate being tickled?’

‘Yes, Mr Clark, it’s too much, I’m too fucking ticklish!’ The lad screamed. ‘God, not the toohohoes!’

You stifled an aroused moan at the lad’s glorious pathetic begging. His real desperation.

Looks like you’ve found your new favourite way to waste company time.

[bansheeboyy]

Heatwaves can be tough, but a trusty fan can save the day and make sure you actually get a good night’s sleep. Tickle perverts love fans too, because their whirring makes it oh so easy to sneak in through the window without being heard. This hottie, lounging like a slut in his little shorts, feet bare, showing skin like it’s going out of style, is about to be given a reason to sweat that has nothing to do with the heat.

Even a loud fan won’t cover up his howls. Good thing he’s home alone.

[bansheeboyy]

How it started:

How it’s going:

If your brother was gonna crash on your couch three weeks longer than he said and still have the audacity to tease you with his big soles, you were gonna teach him that just because there was no rent didn’t mean there wasn’t a price to staying here…and that you still remember all of his most ticklish spots. (You could still hear the way he screamed when you’d scribble on his heels.)

You may both be grown men, but he was about to learn that older brothers never forget their tricks…and grow more sadistic with age.

[takeallyourclothesoff]

[bansheeboyy]

When you’re tied in such a submissive position and subjected to such intense pleasure against your will, eventually you just submit to the ecstasy. The mental walls this breaks down in straight men can be huge.

Finding joy in submission, in ‘weakness’, in letting go of control.

They don’t call it tickle therapy for nothing.

[xx-subby-pup-xx]

I'm so bad at edging myself I have no self control so it's vital that someone else does it for me actually

[bansheeboyy]

New dream video: Timmy Chalamet being tickled by a gaggle of teasing, sadistic Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. His arousal would be battling his ticklishness something fierce, and I bet those ladies would love making that cheeky boy scream with laughter. I hope none of them were offended by his ballet/opera comments…they might make him regret every word…

[bansheeboyy]

God I’m so horny I need someone to slap me out of it *gets hornier* I mean strangle me *gets hornier* fuck, I mean hit me with their car *gets hornier* shock me until I stop being horny *gets hornier* Jesus Christ, I mean like take control of me and make me stop *gets hornier* I mean like force me in a non-sexual way to stop being so horny *gets hornier* FINE I MEAN LEAVE ME ALONE COMPLETELY *gets hornier* FUCK!

[bansheeboyy]

According to my Instagram they’re having a sale on hot, ticklish men. Now this is a promotion I can get behind.

[bansheeboyy]

Recently bought a fleshlight and I think I’m really beginning to sympathise with the bulls subjected to milking. If someone rammed that slippery, textured gel up and down my dick non-stop, I’d be cumming my brains out too. Pleasure turning into pure torture and back again. That shit made my toes curl.

…is it bad that knowing what they’re going through made me want to try it even more? 😵‍💫

[bansheeboyy]

“You know, son, the rules say I can’t take your socks off, and that’s a real shame seeing as you’ve gotten yourself into quite the vulnerable position. But now that I’m looking at these puppies…these beauties are nearly worn through. Few minutes with a hairbrush circling the balls of your feet should be enough to break through…and once there’s a hole, you may as well not be wearing any socks at all. My tools can get in all your nooks and crannies. It doesn't count as taking your socks off if they naturally wear thin. Don’t you love loopholes? And there are no rules whatsoever against tickling a disruptive inmate, son.

I hope for your sake you ain’t ticklish, boy, otherwise this is gonna be the longest night of your life. Now pass me that pretty little foot of yours…”

[bansheeboyy]

The coach had a plan to counter the aggression his team had when they lost a match; a locker-room stress boy. Instead of sniping and belittling each other - sometimes leading to scuffles - the exhausted lads were encouraged to take out their frustration on the bound man, grabbing him by the hair and whispering threats in his ear, pinching his nipples, squeezing his junk and watching him squirm. His pathetic groans beneath the gag really got the lads going, encouraging more and more degrading treatment. The day the team captain discovered the lad was ticklish was one for the history books. The whole team stayed an hour and an half after the match until the bound man had pissed himself onto the tiles, howling for mercy than never came.

It was a complete success. Infighting after a loss dropped to zero.

The human punching-bag was so popular the coach even brought him out when the team won. As the weeks went by the coach started buying tools for the lads to use on their stress boy: whips, paddles, brushes and sex toys. They experimented with different positions, with varying levels of clothing. The longer it went on, the more comfortable the lads were with inflicting outrageous sexual torment on another man. After a win the group of virile hunks tended towards more frivolous treatment: tickling, teasing, vibrators, feathers. After a heavy loss they went for the real hard stuff: spanking, electro-shocks, merciless tickle torture, hot wax.

It was the best idea the coach had ever had. Morale was up, and the lads were more cohesive than ever before, bagging more wins than they had the entire season.

And the best part? The stress boy didn’t cost him a penny, and there was no risk of the police being called.

The bound lad was paying him for the pleasure. (And the pain.)

[bansheeboyy]

The young traveller was slightly suspicious of the low prices at the rural motel…but he was broke, and a bed was a bed.

When he woke up immobilised with a soft feather trailing up his sole, he quickly found out that ticklish young customers pay their board in laughter…

[bansheeboyy]

“It’ll knock your socks off” is such a needlessly erotic expression for someone with a burgeoning tickle kink. It’ll WHAT? Excuse me?

A hot guy casually saying ‘it knocked my socks off.’

It did? 😀 How nice for you. 😀. I’m definitely not picturing the socks flying off your bare feet. 😀. Thanks for saying that. 😀. I’m very calm and not hyper-aware of my freakish desires. 😀

[bansheeboyy]

I can't with how fuckinf cure you are!! I need to have you bound and helpless so I can just feather and tease that cock of your for hours and hours!

And you bet I won't let you cum even a drop! I want it to be torture! I want you to be screaming, begging, whimpering, and moaning as my feather flutters around your aching denied tip until you can't take even a second more!

...and then I'll tickle that cock even harder

Do your worst!

*re-reads your ask*

Actually maybe like give me half effort, or even quarter effort because that sounds fucking intense and you seem devilishly sadistic. I in fact wouldn’t like to see your worst. But as usual…I don’t think I have much say in the matter.