A STEP TOO FAR …
As the digital clock sitting at the bedside table neared 8.30 pm, Louis Tomlinson un-straddled a breathless, oily, sweat-drenched Harry Styles and slid effortlessly off the mattress.
Louis had tickled Harry’s pits for almost ten minutes, non stop.
He had ignored all of Harry’s pleas, his cries, his begging, his visceral attempts at desperate negotiation.
He had proved himself as a masterful tickler, with skills Harry never expected him to have.
He had showcased a merciless form of torture. He had been furious, feisty and fast.
As Harry watched Louis readjust his skinny jeans and wipe away some sweat from his own forehead, Harry realised one thing—
“—I… I think I under… Under, es, esti … You …”
The word ‘underestimated’ was too challenging for Harry to speak out loud; it was too long, too full with letters, too tall a mountain to climb in his current state, but he did a good enough job at trying anyway.
Louis smirked triumphantly as Harry rolled aching hips slowly, from left to the right.
“You always have …” Louis bit his lower lip, “… Everyone always has …”
Harry moaned in exhaustion, heaving in and out, in and out, in and out …
He swallowed down shock, surprise and overwhelming disbelief, “… H-how long is left?” Harry asked.
Louis cracked his knuckles, keeping his ideas to himself.
“Not long, lad …”
Harry angled his head towards the clock, where bloodshot eyes glared at the red digits displaying the time …
8.28 pm
“Two …” Harry coughed into his shoulder, curling his fingers around the ropes tying his wrists, “… Two m-minutes …” he sniffed up distress as Louis reached his hands out towards the hotel room ceiling, stretching out throbbing fingers, “… Just let me go, Lou. This is too much, you’re, you’re too much…”
Louis grinned, taking Harry’s words like a five star review, “Aww, lad. You can’t take anymore?”
Harry dropped his head over the pillow, curtains of brown hair laying themselves out over the cotton surface.
“In a word,” Harry closed his eyes, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve had a bloody’nuff.”
Louis started his climb back on the bed.
“Well, I haven’t,” he announced.
As the clock beeped 8pm, Harry snapped his eyes open and watched Louis, in concern, crawl back towards him.
“… ‘Ang on,” Harry trembled, “The, the time’s up…” he began to slide his heels over the corners of the bed in panic, “… The, the time’s bloody up!”
To Harry’s astonishment, Louis started to manoeuvre himself behind Harry.
“What you going to do about it, lad?”
Harry grunted as Louis lifted the pillow Harry’s head once lay on.
He then knelt down, tucked the pillow between his own thighs, laying Harry’s head back down over it …
Louis was right.
What am I going to do about it? Harry thought.
If he had known Louis were going to bring tickling to the table, he would never of let his boyfriend tie him up.
And now, here he lay, bound naked and tickled in ways he had never been tickled before …
Worse than his time with The Masked Tickler, worse than his time with Miller or The Clown …
Those ticklers weren’t intimate, like Louis.
Sure, they were merciless and relentless, hardcore and sadistic …
But Louis knew where to touch, how to explore; what to do with a body he had been inside of, a body he had tasted night after night, a body he had slept next to for nearly ten years …
Being tickled by Louis was … Different.
Tougher to endure.
Trickier to conceive.
As he looked up at Louis, sitting behind his shoulders, his face grinning sadistically down at him, Harry came to his second realisation of the evening:
This is far from over.
Fuck.
No.
He wouldn’t.
He can’t.
He won’t.
He …
He …
H—
“—Come on, Lou, that’s… That’s taking the mick,” Harry spoke carefully, cautious not to lose his own temper; he didn’t want an argument, he didn’t want to fall out over something like this, “It’s, it’s done, we’re done, the hour is done …”
Louis began to stroke Harry’s armpit hair, tilting his head in thought.
“I … I think we’re done when I say …”
Harry grimaced as he shot terrified looks to either of Louis hands, his head wagging from left to right, as if put on fast forward.
“No, this is, this isn’t right…” Harry kicked his legs, as much as his ankle bonds would allow, “… This, this isn’t fair, this, this isn’t, this isn’t what we agreed …”
Louis own arousal began to stiffen within his skinny jeans.
Hearing Harry sound so worried, seeing him pushed past a limit he thought had been securely set …
… It turned Louis on, far more than he had expected it would.
“This is absolute gold,” Louis chuckled.
Harry began to squirm and writhe beneath Louis as Louis increased his fingertips pressure whilst toying with Harry’s armpit hair.
Gentle strokes transformed into harder tickling as Louis now made a conscious effort to invade the soaked depths of Harry’s pits with the strength of all ten of his fingers.
“Oh f-fff—uck,” Harry arched his back, twisting his upper body from side to side, “No, fuck, fuUHck this, fuck, no, STOP, Lou, seriously, seriously fucking STOP, STOP come on!”
Louis arousal continued to grow.
Harry could feel it under his head.
“What a view I have …” Louis drawled, staring down at Harry’s body, “… A view real, professional ticklers out there can only dream of having! But no, you’re just for me…”
Harry could do nothing but roll around in manic, uncertain oblivion, the tickle attacks within his pits now too intense to bare, Louis ignorance and naivety to the truth too heartbreaking to consider …
Louis watched Harry’s toned hips jerk around, his long cock bouncing around; he took in his pecks, drenched and shining with sweat, the way his hair hung over his eyes, how his beautiful, thick thighs thrashed around over the bed sheets …
Louis sat in total control, enjoying every moment of his hysterical creation and the visual excellence it provided.
He really can’t take this, Louis thought.
He can barely breathe.
It’s that spot, right there…
Louis wiggled each of his index fingers into the very centre of each of Harry’s pits.
Harry bucked upward so hard that his head nearly smashed into Louis’ chin.
“Whoa!”
Louis caught Harry’s facial expression, if just for a second, as Harry looked up at Louis, and as Louis looked down at Harry…
Complete gut-wrenching anger.
Fuck.
He’s going to be so pissed.
Wait, he’s already pissed…
You’ve already stepped over the line.
He’s going to go hard on you, when it’s your turn.
Maybe give him a break …
As Harry continued his begs and cries, Louis left his armpits and travelled tickling fingers up and down Harry’s sides, thinking this would bring the gear stick down a notch.
However, it seemed to just make things worse …
Harry screamed out into the hotel room air, his body convulsing as if he were being poked and prodded by an electric stick.
Louis cackled as Harry started to say the things Louis had intentionally driven him to say.
“PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE LOU COME ON STOP I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE I CAN’T STAND IT I’M GONNA PASS OUT IT’S TOO MUCH COMEONEPLEASEIT’STOOMUCH!”
Louis licked his lips, “Alright, okay, lad, chill … I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but only if you say … ‘I’m a ticklish pussy’ …”
Harry didn’t even hesitate.
“—I’M A TICKLISH PUSSY, FOR FUCKS SAKE I’M A TICKLISH PUSSY—”
He twisted his neck upward, looking towards Louis with widened, bulging, expectant eyes.
Louis, to Harry’s surprise, persisted in his tickling …
“I don’t think I’ll ever tickle anyone like this again!” Louis cheered, “I’m making the most of —”
“— OI! OI! COME ON! YOU SAID YOU’D STOP!” Harry cried.
Louis sent wiggling fingers up Harry’s sides, around his underarms, over his jaw and neck …
Harry snapped and bit and kicked and spat.
He had now simply evolved into a flexing, constantly reacting, always moving shape that’s only reason for existing was to endure; endure this horrendous extension of what he thought would just be one hour.
Lous continued his attacks, as he slid away from his position.
He went from being behind Harry, to being back on top of Harry, all within a few seconds …
Back to straddling his waist, Louis could ride Harry’s hyper-sensitive body, whilst tickling him and being able to see his face, in unison.
A face scattered with sweat droplets, a face bright red, a face creased with pained expression …
An expression that said to Louis, ‘you’re going to get it’ …
For the first time tonight, Louis started to feel nervous.
This would, in time, have to end.
No matter how much Louis put it off, Harry would be untied and tomorrow night … Louis would be in his position.
The only difference would be that Harry now had a reason for revenge; additional purpose behind his passion, a justification to go, quite possibly, even harder than Louis had been towards Harry this evening.
Louis gulped.
“Right, o, okay, lad, I’ll… I’ll stop …” Louis said, whilst keeping his hands in a gradual stroke over each of Harry’s armpits.
Harry, still twisting from left to right, heaved out hysteric relief, “THEN STOP, YOU’RE, YOU’RE STILL GOING, JUST, JUST STOP TICKLING ME THERE, NOT THERE—!”
Louis ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth.
“I’ll stop, if you promise you’ll go easy on me tomorrow night…”
Harry hooked his teeth over his upper lip and squeezed his eyes shut, the further Louis sent his fingers up and down his rib cage.
“LOU, COME ON!” Harry tried a different approach, “I HAVE TO SING IN A FEW DAYS AND YOU’RE MAKING ME LOSE MY FUCKING VOICE!”
Louis didn’t buy that one. If anything, he took joy in the fact that Harry’s sell out stadium show would be effected …
Means this time I don’t have to find an excuse not to go, he thought.
Louis continued to stroke Harry’s underarms, keen to gain confirmation on his request …
“Say it, lad, then I’ll stop! Say you’ll go easy …”
Harry clenched his teeth; he didn’t want to lie to Louis, he didn’t want to verbalise a promise he might not be able to keep …
After all this, after this feeling, after this wall-hitting, past-his-limit moment, there would be no way that Harry would go light on Louis, during his session…
… And Louis knew it.
“You’re not going to say it, are you, lad?” Louis asked, now sending his fingers around Harry’s delicately smooth stomach and abs …
Harry shook his head, coughing out maddening giggles as Louis abused his belly button with his index finger.
“YOU’RE FUCKED, LOU HA-AHAHAAAAA YOU’RE FU-HUHUHCKKKED!” He manically declared.
Louis pressed his lips shut and went in one last time, sending his hands forcefully back into Harry’s pits …
Harry’s face creased up as the middle of his brain imploded, in absolute ticklish, hyper sensory overload; he threw his hips upward, so hard and fast, that Louis got physically thrown off of the bed, where he hurtled off the side of the mattress and landed on the hotel carpet with a heavy thud.
“—Fuck!”
Louis winced as he rolled over to his back, staring up at the ceiling, breathless and aroused …
Harry lay panting, his eyes closed, his pits tingling with a torturous itch …
Huff, huff, huff …
“… Jesus …”, Harry whispered.
Huff, huff huff …
“… You’re a p-piss t-taker …” he announced.
Louis shuffled into a crouched position.
“I know, lad,” he chuckled, “I’ve always been a cheeky wanker. That’s why you love me.”
Harry kept silent, unable to offer Louis any form of reassurance, as he tried to refill his lungs with oxygen.
Louis picked up Harry’s beer and offered him a swig.
Harry parted his lips, nodding just the once.
Louis moved towards Harry and then tipped booze into Harry’s mouth.
“You alright?” He asked carefully.
Harry shook his head away from the beer, speaking with demand in his tone.
“Untie me.”
Louis swallowed down concern.
He popped the beer back down at the bedside table, his eyes catching the time displayed on the digital clock.
He felt shocked to realise he’d carried on tickling Harry for a further forty five minutes …
“Balls, I uh, I … I got carried away, I ‘spose…” Louis began to untie Harry’s wrists as Harry remained silent.
With both hands now free, Harry was able to sit up.
He curled his fists into balls and with his right hand, he punched Louis hard in the chest.
Louis, successfully winded, stumbled back and hunched over, his eyes wide open.
A police car siren on the streets below filled the uncomfortable void of quiet between them as Louis planted both palms over a newly created bruise.
Harry leant forwards and began to untie his own left ankle.
“That wasn’t funny, Lou,” Harry pulled his left foot free as he began to un-cuff his right ankle, “I could barely breathe …”
Louis jaw dropped when he saw the amount of sweat patches over the creased bedsheets surrounding Harry.
“I’m, I’m sorry… I, I enjoyed myself more than I—“
Louis lowered his head, fully aware that he had taken the piss.
Harry slumped back onto the mattress with a bounce as his energy levels began to return.
“How am I meant to trust you, if we do that again?” He asked.
Louis looked down at his feet, kicking the carpet with his socked heel.
“You, you can trust me … I promise, it’s, it’s just the first time we’ve done something like this and, and it felt good, to push you, to—“
“— To punish me, more like,” Harry corrected.
Louis lifted his shoulders quietly.
Had he resented Harry’s success so much that he had to go the extra mile in pushing him into tickle torture hell?
What would it take for Louis to just accept that Harry was better?
Louis sighed.
Will he go as hard, tomorrow night?
Will he go … Harder?
Does he even want to talk to me?
Ask.
Say sorry again.
Do something, do any—
—Before Louis could open his mouth, Harry sat up and patted the space of bed beside him, gesturing for Louis to come over.
Louis swallowed down his questions and took cautious steps over to his boyfriend.
Harry hooked his hands around the waist of Louis skinny jeans.
He unbuttoned them slowly …
He pinched the zip and pulled it down …
Louis felt his heart race, his throat tighten, his eyes water …
Harry carefully peeled Louis jeans down towards his thighs, revealing his boyfriends full arousal squashed within the cotton confines of his Tommy Hilfiger briefs …
Harry chose to go against what they had agreed.
If he can do it, so can I, Harry decided.
“There isn’t going to be a tomorrow night …” Harry declared.
Louis squeezed his eyes shut, expecting Harry to announce they’d now be splitting up …
“Instead,” Harry spoke in a quiet murmur, “There’s going to be a right now.”
Louis’ eyes snapped open as Harry yanked his jeans down to his ankles.
“Strip, you cheeky fuck …” Harry ordered, “… It’s your turn.”
🍑
Louis sat on the edge of the bed nervously, now only dressed in white socks and designer underwear, his jeans discarded somewhere in the corner of the hotel room.
He patted a bare tummy impatiently, whilst Harry stood at the bathroom sink, washing sweat and baby oil off of his face and body …
Harry knew exactly what to do.
He, unlike Louis, had experienced the essence of tickle torture at the hands of expert professionals.
Louis didn’t know that … Louis had no idea what sort of skills Harry had logged into his memory, the kinds of techniques he would use …
All of that was what made up his secret; not the fact he had developed the fetish, but instead, the thing that had made him develop it in the first place …
Since his time with The House of White Feathers, he had also watched hundreds of tickle videos, browsed dozens of websites, masturbated over the idea daily …
His knowledge; the tools to use, the spots to hit, it all sat together as one combined and powerful weapon that outweighed any of the ‘research’ Louis managed to action on his iPhone, prior to Harry’s suggestion.
For Louis, this would be something he’d never forget.
The biggest, most intense, most gruelling tickling of his life …
And now, with an additional element of payback also, after what he’d put Harry through only ten minutes ago.
Harry’s secret had led to this very moment; a perfect arrival point where choices had been made, awards had been won, interests had grown and now, Harry got to act it all out on the only person in the world he lusted after.
Louis regretted going so far, he wished, now more than ever, that he hadn’t of gone past the hour.
What were you thinking? Louis thought.
You daft c—
“—Clothes off, Lou …” Harry’s order came from the bathroom.
Louis stood, quicker than he wanted to, as if on high alert, too aware of what was to come …
Harry, still naked, left the bathroom cradling his toiletry bag.
Harry stood confident and ready, his tattooed upper body and thighs still decorated in little pinch marks from Louis fingers …
“What’s, what’s in there?” Louis asked, whilst peering into the toiletry bag.
Harry stepped back, cradling the bag away from Louis’ prying gaze.
“Don’t be nosey.”
Louis tutted as he began to pull off his socks.
Harry turned his back to Louis, planting the toiletry bag down on the nearby hotel room desk.
As Louis yanked down his briefs, Harry began to search through the bags contents, ensuring he himself felt content with all the tools he’d just spent the past few minutes pulling together …
Tools he knew, from experience, would drive his boyfriend absolutely bananas …
As Harry’s erection returned, Louis informed him he was ready.
“Alright, let’s do this, lad.”
Harry turned around to face Louis, who stood completely naked at the corner of the bed with his hands behind his back.
Being this open, this vulnerable, this exposed … It created an excitement deep within Louis that started to stiffen his own manhood too.
Harry cleared his throat, finding the need to drag his stare away from Louis beautiful legs, shaven balls and tight, soft stomach; he swallowed down and then flicked his eyes over to the bed, “On you uh, on you get …”
Louis scratched the back of his head and swallowed down a bubble of anxiety, the reality of his situation finally setting in.
He ran hands through thick brown hair and then, in reluctance, he turned around and began to climb up onto the mattress, left knee first.
Harry popped the toiletry bag down at the corner of the bed, standing to then admire his boyfriend’s naked form, a form now crawling into a laid down position over sweat-stained bedsheets.
“No …” Harry spoke in a deep, demanding tone, “… On your front …”
Louis smirked, “Oh yeah, of course …”
It had always been a known fact, between them both, that Louis had an incredible behind.
There were tumblr accounts, fan pages and mentions on twitter … All dedicated to Louis’ ass.
Hand painted banners reading ‘can I touch Louis butt’ were frequent things to notice during the dozens of tours One Direction performed over the many years they were together.
And for Harry, Louis’ rear was something he too more than cherished.
It was the one thing he had that was better; it existed as one of Harry’s favourite parts about Louis’ body, something he often grabbed, spanked, poked or stroked …
… Something he often bit.
And now, it would be something he’d tickle.
Harry chewed his lower lip as he watched Louis lay down on his stomach.
Louis parted his legs a little and then folded his arms under his head.
Harry felt his own excitement grow as he stood there, admiring the shape and plumpness of Louis’ juicy rear …
This is going to be fantastic, Harry thought.
“Nice view, lad?” Louis spoke with a cocky tone, into his shoulder, arrogantly aware of the answer before Harry could speak it out loud.
Harry started to attach Louis to the bed, with the same restraints Louis had used to tie Harry.
“No comment,” Harry said quietly, as he got down into a knelt position.
He began to strap Louis left ankle to the beds left bottom corner, whilst admiring the silky soft expanse of Louis left foot.
He couldn’t help himself …
This situation, this moment, this entire event - man, Harry thought, how lucky I am …
A literal dream come true.
Harry took his index finger and dragged it down Louis sole, from toe to heel.
Louis kicked outward in a violent jerk.
Harry grinned, tightening up the leather strap, before returning to Louis foot.
He tried to tickle again, however this time, no physical response took place.
Hmm …
Harry knew he’d have to reassess that in a minute.
He shuffled over to Louis right foot, where he strapped it down to the right bottom corner.
He then stood and strolled towards Louis’ upper body …
He held Louis right hand and travelled it over creased up pillows and drying stains of baby oil, where he began to tie it to the top right corner of the bed.
Louis lifted his head, his eyes falling on Harry’s still very present erection.
“Having a nice time already, are we?”
Harry strapped Louis wrist in place, glancing down at his own cock, where he then headed over to Louis left wrist …
“I think I deserve it, after all your piss taking …”
Louis pressed his head, face down, into the sheets.
“You’re not going to let me off for that, are ya, lad…”
Harry tightened Louis left wrist to the top corner, fully binding him in a star-fish position.
“You’ve only got yourself to blame,” Harry confirmed, as he took two steps back to lay his hungry stare over Louis tied body; his tanned back, the delve that made up the bottom of his spine, his plump ass cheeks and spread apart legs … It all looked borderline astonishing, as Louis lay impatiently on his front.
Harry grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and then made his way towards Louis side.
“Lift up your waist,” Harry directed, tapping Louis hips with his fingertips.
“Ah!” Louis jerked to the right, Harry’s touch already making him shifty.
Harry chuckled, keeping his hands on the pillow as Louis did his best at lifting up his waist.
Harry then tucked the pillow under Louis tummy.
Louis rested his body down over the squashy comfort of the pillow.
Harry then held onto the pillow and shuffled it downward, past Louis stomach, where it then sat stuffed beneath his hips.
Louis grunted as he felt his ass and waist be propped up, by the shape and size of the pillow beneath him …
In this position, his cheeks naturally parted, further exposing a soft taint and even softer hole …
Louis gulped as such a delicate, intimate area of his body revealed itself.
Harry reached, gently and carefully, between Louis thighs, where he fingered for Louis’ balls and erection …
Louis began to squirm and giggle as the unexpected touch sent electric shocks up and down his body.
“Alright, blood, bloody hell! At least let me know when, when you’re going to st-start!” Louis yelped.
Harry’s eyes widened as Louis wriggled his hips, the juicy chunks of each of his ass cheeks wobbling around in a sudden, uncontrollable jiggle.
Goodness me … Harry thought.
Harry gently pulled Louis cock and balls between his legs, where he laid them out neatly over the pillow sprouting out between Louis’ thighs.
Louis erection began to twitch; in this position, its hardness had no choice but to press into the cotton, whilst the hotel air con blew against the length of the muscle.
“You’re having the time of your life down there aren’t ya, y’cheeky sod—“
“—Christ you’re a chatter box!” Harry hushed Louis, announcing the start of his session, as his eyes narrowed at the digital clock at the bedside.
9.30 pm.
He chose to not even consider time.
If he wanted to go on for hours, he would - and more importantly, he could, thanks to Louis behaviour earlier on.
Rules had been broken.
The game sat, quite literally, spread open, ready for all the tools in Harry’s toiletry bag, for all of the excitement and build up Harry owned deep within his psyche.
Harry smiled as a final idea landed in the middle of his head.
Louis shuffled about as he heard Harry taking quiet footsteps from the bed, to the desk, and then back to the bed …
“What are you up to, for bloody hell’s sake—“
—Louis gasped as his sight got taken from him, by the same thick cotton of a blindfold once blinding Harry.
It smelt of Harry’s sweat, it felt damp and tight around Louis face …
“Touché…” Louis mumbled, as he lay his head back down on the pillow.
Harry made his way towards the toiletry bag.
He eyed his tools, allowing his fingers to comb through the soft edges of his first choice …
“I think I’ll start with this …” Harry announced.
🪶
Louis hissed as something soft but sharp unexpectedly slid beneath the toes of his left foot …
His legs jerked, causing that beautiful behind to shake further more.
Harry grinned.
Although fingers didn’t do the job, the soft touch of a feather seemed to work as the perfect replacement …
“Feather ticklish on your feet, Lou?” Harry stroked his own cock as he actioned the torture, “That’s a one in million situation, that…”
Louis clenched his teeth as his eyes widened behind the blindfold; curling his toes and then scrunching them up in a desperate attempt to catch the annoying tool currently fluttering between his left big toe and index toe.
“No, that’s annoying as fuck, that—” Louis bit his upper lip, “—How the hell did you know my feet were— fuck!—”
Harry sent the tip of the feather up and down Louis left sole, enjoying the sight of Louis size nine foot, strong thigh and left ass cheek jerking around sporadically …
“Your arse looks gorgeous from here,” Harry commented, his eyes unable to peel themselves away from the shaking plump cheeks that jiggled every time Louis kicked his feet.
“Oh, bloody marvellous!” Louis croaked, as Harry took the feather up and down the sides of his right foot, “Glad you’re e-enjoying the v, v—” Louis hissed, “—Bloody fuck! That bloody feather! It’s such a bastard!”
Harry sat down on the carpet, to gain easier access to Louis soles.
“You alright, Lou?” He asked, in pretend ignorance, “You finding this tough?”
Louis arched his back, further expanding his juicy behind, further opening up the silky soft space of flesh between, further exposing that tiny, tight, hairless ho—
“—HO yeah, lad, I fucking love it, keep going you daft cu—“ Louis took in a sharp breath of air as the feather slid between his pinkie and second to last toe, “NOPE, NOPE, NOT THERE, THAT’S IT, THAT’S IT, LAD, THAT’S TAKING THE PISS!”
Harry laughed to himself as he moved the feather in a saw-like motion, between a sensitive gap that Louis had no idea was ticklish.
“It’s funny,” Harry scratched away an itch on the tip of his nose, speaking in genuine curiosity, as he continued to explore his fetish, his secret, “Funny how a simple feather can be more effective than fingers … I wonder why that is …”
Louis curled his hands around his wrist restraints, heaving out uncontrollable giggles into the depths of the mattress …
“Yes! Let’s all have a think!” Louis kicked his legs once, twice, three times, his ass jiggling much to Harry’s delight, “Let’s all have a bloody wonder!”
Harry had laid a secondary feather out, on the floor, at the other corner of the bed.
He shuffled to the middle of the bottom of the bed and sat cross legged on the carpet, picking up the second feather, where he then decided to tickle both of Louis’ soles at the same time.
“Its the betweens of your toes,” Harry licked his lips, “They’re so ticklish, Lou. It’s so hot!”
Louis, now experiencing the annoying, tormenting attacks on both feet, jolted in surprise, scrunching up his shoulders and twisting his head to the side, so he could expel uncontrollable laughter into the hotel room air.
“Blo-HUDDA-AH-AH-AH! Blood-EEH-EE-EE-EEY HE-EHE-EHE-ECK, LAD! Pah, pah, fuck, god stop, stop, alright, hahaha-hahaha oh Ha, Ha, Ha, Harry, fucking heh, heh, hell mate!”
Harry continued to wiggle each feather across the creamy, sensitive landscape that made up Louis’ soles, always spending a little more time around his toes.
“I thought my feet were feather ticklish, but this is something else!” Harry cheered.
“SHIT, SH-EE-EE-EE-EEEET, HAAHAAAAHA, BLOODY HE-EHE-EEEHEHE-EELL! THIS IS NUTS THIS IS STUPID YOU’RE BLOODY NUTS LAD, YOU’RE BLOODY NUTS, WHY TICKLING! WHY TICKLING! THIS IS SO BLOODY WEIRD!”
Harry took enormous pleasure at hearing Louis’ loud, manic laughter echo throughout the large hotel room.
Weird…
Bloody weird…
Yeah, I am bloody weird, Harry thought.
And you’re gonna bloody get it.
Harry kept the feathers in a see-saw movement around all of Louis’ toes; he was persistent, focused, determined, the feathers never once away from the ticklish scrunched up digits, no matter how hard Louis wriggled his feet.
And there it was …
Harry could hear it, deep within Louis belly; the sort of laughter that came from the very depths of Louis’ stomach, in the form of a hearty bellow; the kind of high pitched, desperate cackle Harry had heard Louis produce before, back when they first formed One Direction, back when he was happier, younger, more filled with joy …
Harry felt his arousal throb as he watched Louis feet writhe around at each corner of the bed, his thighs jolting from left to right, his peachy behind jiggling like jelly …
Harry took in Louis panting, noticing a moment where, between the giggles, he could barely catch his breath …
Harry decided to put a pause on the feathers and lay them back down, neatly and carefully, over the carpet.
Louis coughed and heaved into the pillows, licking dry lips whilst staring into cottoned darkness.
“It’s all that smoking,” Harry noted, getting to his feet, “That’s why you’re so out of breath.”
Louis cleared his throat, rubbing the side of his face against his shoulder, “Yeh, that must be it,” he grumbled.
Harry gave Louis no additional time to recover - seven or eight seconds or so would be enough - so, instead of showing mercy, he instead jumped into the gap on the bed, between Louis legs, where he hunched over Louis’ pert behind and began to tickle Louis’ hips.
Louis squirmed so hard that Harry thought he might be knocked off the mattress.
“NO, LAD, FUCK, COME ON, AH, LAD, STOP, STOP, STOPPPPP—”
Harry bear hugged Louis’ waist, where his hands came out from under each of Louis’ sides.
He then used his long fingers to attack each of Louis’ hips, whilst Harry squashed his own face down over the sweaty bottom of Louis’ naked back.
“AGH-BLO-HOHOHOHOHOD-EE-EEEEEHEEEELLL, LAD COME ON, STO-OHAHAHAHAAP—”
Harry could feel Louis’ hysteria vibrate beneath the skin his face lay planted over.
Whilst Harry existed as an aggressive, angry ticklee, Louis existed as one that couldn’t contain his intensity negatively; as he much as he felt infuriated against the situation, his reactions didn’t come out in the form of shouts or moans, instead they arrived as heaves of desperate, agonising laughter.
“Wow, this a spot for you, isn’t it …” Harry’s lips brushed against Louis’ spine, “… Right here…”
Harry sent grabbing, wiggling fingers deeper and harder into each of Louis’ hips, tickling the thirty one year old in a way he had never been tickled before in his entire life.
Louis was now laughing, giggling and screaming so much his voice sounded croaky and torn, his naked body writhing and squirming under Harry’s weight.
Harry took his attacks into another level by licking, biting and sucking the sweaty skin of Louis’ lower back, as he tickled his hips with his hands …
“OW, OW, OW, DON’T BITE ME—” Louis protested, his head twisting over his shoulder, “—GET OFF YOU LITTLE SHIT—” Louis continued to wince and hiss as Harry persisted in nipping his back with his teeth, “—OW! OH! OW! OH!—”
Louis tried to twist his body from side to side, in an attempt to shift his hips away from Harry’s fingers - but Harry maintained a relentless push.
As Louis realised there would be no escape, he simply fell into the role of ‘violent thrasher’, howling loudly as he kicked and jerked all of his limbs at once until Harry had taken his fingers up and away from his hips, where they began to dance towards his sides …
Louis squirming died down, as the breathless young man endured the less intense touching and poking from Harry’s fingertips, the closer they got to his pits …
Unlike Harry, Louis wasn’t ticklish here at all.
However, he still giggled, in a cheap attempt to make out that Harry’s efforts weren’t wasted; a performed lie, to keep him away from his hips …
“Ah, aha-ahah, lad, stop, don’t go there, lad no, not under there!”
Harry, like the experts who had introduced him to this kink, sensed a fake reaction almost immediately …
He could feel Louis body beneath him no longer move the way it had moved when the feather landed between Louis toes, or when Harry’s fingers had grabbed around Louis hips; the begging, the gradual giggles …
… They weren’t real reactions.
They were an opaque fakery, a chance to potentially distract Harry from venturing toward genuinely ticklish areas of Louis bound body …
So, Harry’s fingers slid away from Louis’ under arms and returned to the fleshy groves of his hips.
“NO—” Louis yelped, “NO, BLOODY, BLOODY HELL, GET AWAY FROM THERE—” He cried.
Harry sat over Louis’ left leg and sent his hands under Louis waist, going for his hips once again as Louis writhed around in the face down position …
“—GAH, GAH, GAHHAHA-HAHA-HO! HO GOD, STOP, STOP, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE—”
“Sucks doesn’t it, Lou!” Harry jeered, “You’re gonna need to be harder than that!”
Louis’ response came out in gravelled, coughing splutters as Harry continued to torture his hips with unbearable, relentless tickling …
“OKAY, ALRIGHT, I’M BEGGING YOU! THIS IS ME BEGGING! I’M BEGGING YOU TO STOP! GIVE ME A BREAK AT LEAST—“
“—Say stop, and I’ll consider it…” Harry suggested.
Without even pausing to think, Louis began to scream out that one simple word.
“—STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP—”
Harry smirked, his fingers going harder, faster, Louis hips tickled in such a way that Louis could barely talk.
“—I, I SA, SA, SAID STOP YOU, YOU BLO, BLO, AH! AHAHAH! BLOHOHOHOODY AN, AN, ANIMAL!” Louis yelled, his feet kicking as hard as his hips thrashed, “PLEASE, HAH, HAH, HAH, HARRY, HON, HONESTLY, SERIOUSLY, HONESTLY STOP—”
Harry sat back in breathless, entertained laughter, taking his hands away from Louis hips and back towards his own lap …
Louis breathed heavily into the mattress, a thick layer of sweat now forming over his spine, shoulders and buttocks.
Harry began to touch himself, rubbing his own erection as he watched Louis ass cheeks wiggle, thanks to the fierce beat of Louis fast paced pulse …
Harry spanked each cheek, forcefully, with the palm of his left hand.
SMACK!
“OW—“ Louis snapped.
SMACK!
“OWW—“
… SMACK!
“OW- OW- … OW!—”
Louis shining butt jiggled in defence as he tried to shake it away from Harry’s paddle-like palms.
“Oi, that’s enough of that, you cheeky bast—“
SMACK!
“—OWW!—”
Harry chuckled to himself, after actioning a fourth and final spank.
Now Louis lay there with bright red palm prints over each cheek …
Harry licked his lips, taking the time to now offer Louis some comfort.
He slid off the bed, returning to his toiletry bag.
Louis, behind his blindfold, could only make out the sound of rustling as Harry searched through his tools.
Fuck this, Louis thought.
Now what?
Out of all the kinks …
Why couldn’t he just like feet, or piss! I’d even take piss over this. This is f—
—Louis arched his back and twisted his aching neck, unable to see what Harry had retrieved.
“Ooft—” Louis winced as cold baby oil landed all over his thighs, ass, legs and feet, “—That’s bloody cold!”
Harry drizzled the liquid up over Louis back, his shoulders, his arms and his neck …
Louis buried his face into the bed as the baby oil trickled down over his sides, between his balls and over his stiffening arousal…
It dripped off his toes, where it landed in tiny puddles on the hotel room carpet.
“—Bloody soaked …” Louis mumbled, into the mattress’ cotton.
Harry capped the bottle and placed it down by Louis side.
Then, with a tender touch, he began to stroke baby oil into Louis’ growing girth.
Louis swallowed down relief as he relaxed his body and rested the side of his head against the pillow.
“Mnn … That’s… That’s more like it, lad …”
Harry curled his hands around Louis’ erection and began to straighten out its stiffening length, so it lay hooked over the pillow in a rock hard thickness, its bulbous tip shimmering in the hotel room light …
Harry flicked his fingers over each of Louis’ two plump balls, sitting squashed above his hard on.
Flick!
“OW—“
Flick!
“OW!”
Louis winced, hissing between his teeth …
“Fffff—-uck! Harry, mate, enough … That hurts …”
Harry smoothed his palms over each of Louis’ bubbly, baby oil soaked cheeks, shaking them in a jiggled movement, for his own aroused pleasure.
He didn’t apologise, he didn’t mumble the word ‘sorry’ …
He just sat there, content, enjoying his ability to bring Louis close to the want to be jerked off, whilst also having to endure sharp moments of sudden pain, like the recent spanks or just applied ball-flicks.
Harry then took his hands and slid them over Louis’ taint, with the intention to return to Louis’ erection …
However, Louis’ sudden and almost aggressive jolt informed Harry that he might be staying around this area for a little longer than he’d expected …
The Spot …
“—No—” Louis spoke with alarm saturating his voice, “—Harry, no, n-not there, I, I can’t …”
Harry couldn’t help but splay a grin of pure sadism across his handsome face.
“This spot even looks ticklish…” Harry inspected, taking his fingertips gently across Louis silky soft taint, his tanned flesh shimmering with lubrication …
Louis sprung his legs outwards; he curled his fists into balls and then he twisted his head back over his shoulder, where he tried to propel his voice further across the room, the blindfold still snug around his face.
“NO,” Louis growled, “H-Harry, lad, lad, lad, alright, listen, listen, don’t start, don’t do it …”
Harry continued his teasing stroke.
“… Beg me …”
Louis huffed; the feeling taking place, between his balls and hole, became something that he knew would be too much to handle, despite it only just beginning to take place.
“—Please—” Louis growled, “—I’m begging you, don’t tickle me there, it’s too sensitive …”
Harry furrowed his brow into a straight line.
“You think that’s begging?” He scoffed, “You’ll have to do better than that…”
Louis clenched his teeth as Harry’s fingers brushed, constantly, over such a hairless, agonisingly ticklish area of his body …
“I’m begging you, Harry … Lad, come on, listen,” Louis tried not to sound so concerned, “List, listen, lad, please, anywhere but there, I won’t be able to take it, I seriously, I, I won’t talk to you ever again if you, if you, fuck! Fuck’s sake, this is fucked! Please, Harry. Please?”
Harry shuffled closer towards Louis ass, now straddling his left thigh.
Harry simply watched, with wide, overwhelmed eyes, as Louis kicked his feet and thrashed his hips around, whilst he continued to tickle his boyfriends taint…
Louis jiggling ass, the cheeks shaking and wobbling from side to side as Louis squirmed, it all pushed Harry into a real of warm, shuddering arousal that made him want to touch himself.
So, he did …
He held onto his own cock and began to rub himself gently with one hand, whilst his other hand tickled Louis taint at a repetitive, fast-paced rate.
Louis, now aware his begging had only been forced out for Harry’s entertainment, collapsed into giggling, hysterical, fever-pitch defeat …
He heaved out bellowed, insanity-riddled laughter as Harry tortured such a fleshy, silky smooth space, an area Harry had kissed in the past but never tickled …
And even then, the kiss was too much …
Harry grinned as he watched Louis hole reveal itself, where it would wink at him any time Louis shook his lower body around enough so that his cheeks would clap naturally.
All this pushing and squirming and writhing …
It rubbed Louis cock against the pillow, further increasing the hardness of his own erection …
An unintentional moment of friction, where Louis’ stiff cock met the damp, baby oil covered surface of the pillow in a constant rub.
As Harry continued to tickle Louis’ taint, whilst enduring the deafening cries from Louis wide open mouth, he noticed a drop of pre cum poke out of the tip of Louis arousal.
The thirty one year old would be ready to explode tonight …
… And Harry would be the one to make it happen.
But first, this.
Oh, quite simply, this.
The feathers had worked brilliantly on Louis feet.
The hands around Louis hips and waist were tickle perfection, until Harry had reached Louis disappointingly non-ticklish pits …
But now, ahhh yes, Harry thought.
Here we are.
The taint—
“—Mate! MATE! Mate! Harry, lad, come on, enough with down there, fuck! Fuck, I can’t breathe!—”
Louis begged in grunts and whispers, between senseless giggles, his back now shimmering with sweat, his ass cheeks and shoulder blades shining with an erotic sparkle …
Louis coughed and hacked into the mattress as he felt Harry’s hands slide away from between his buttocks …
“— Ah, th-th-thank fuck, thank, thank fuck, thank fuck …”
Louis began to rub his face against his shoulder, in an attempt to nudge the blindfold away from his eyes as Harry shuffled about behind him, his weight departing from the bed momentarily only to return a few seconds later …
“—Lad, lad, now, now what, seriously, the hour is, is nearly up it’s, it’s n—AGH! AGH FUCK, WHAT, WHAT! WHAT THE FUCK, IS, IS THAT, IS THAT THE FEATHER?!”
Harry chuckled, nodding to himself.
“It’s the feather,” he confirmed, in a deep, velvety, Manchester accent, “Your best friend …”
Harry twirled the feather around Louis taint, in a swirly, torturous movement that meant the tip of the feather and the tip of the feather only, would be the part to torment this specific area of Louis’ body …
Just that tiny, sharp end, that flickering and fluttering would send Louis into a realm of unbearable, disorganised, impolite madness; a madness that consisted of screaming, swearing and shouting …
Harry used his fingers too, for maximum effect.
“—NO, NO HARRY FUCK, STOP NO, THAT’S TOO MUCH, I CAN’T TAKE IT COME ON GIVE ME A BREAK DON’T BE A PRICK — THIS ISN’T FAIR I CAN’T STAND IT — GO SOMEWHERE ELSE YOU DAFT CUNT—”
Ahh, there we are.
The C word.
Louis only used that word when he felt really angry.
When something had really pissed him off.
I’ve only ever heard him use it once…
It was then Harry realised he had pushed Louis to that wall hitting moment, where Harry himself had arrived many times in the past, most recently under his own boyfriends fingertips, deep within his armpits for twenty minutes non stop …
“Hate to say something so predictable, Lou,” Harry whispered, mostly to himself, “But uh, paybacks a bitch …”
“—AHHH FUCK OFF, LAD, YOU, YOU, YOU FUCKING … “ Louis had run out of things to call Harry, “… YOU BLOODY POOF—”
Harry giggled outward, in shock more than anything.
“Poof? Who’s the one tied up, having his arse tickled?” Harry went harder now, with the feather and the fingers, all over the ticklish landscape of Louis’ taint.
“—HARRY COME ON, LAD, STOP, STOP, STOP—” Louis began to whine, his voice and throat sounding torn and broken, “I, I can’t take this, Harry, please go somewhere else, tickle somewhere else! Please, I can, I can’t even, even ssss, sss, see — take my blindfold off, at least!”
Louis had started to echo Harry’s cries, cries that had taken place only some hours ago.
That visceral, animalistic, hungry need for it to simply end …
And if it didn’t; air would run out, energy would be consumed, movements would cease…
Or at least, that’s what the mind tells you.
Harry knew he could keep Louis like this all night if he wanted; way past the near two hours Louis had kept him.
Fuck, I can tickle his taint till he bursts into tears, if I want.
Use the electric toothbrush between his toes.
Yeah, that’ll send him crazy.
But …
You’re not a dick.
You’re not a ‘cunt’, like Louis thinks.
So, Harry took the feather and his scratching fingers away from Louis fleshy, twitching taint, where they slid over the length of his erection and down the insides of his thighs, leaving Louis in a jerking, shifting squirm where he could only jolt around in fright, constantly expecting the unexpected.
“Ah— Fuck, lad — NO —“ Harry brushed over the backs of Louis knees, then his fingers made their way towards Louis heels, “Ahh, Jesus, Christ, f-fuck… SHIT—” Suddenly, Harry’s fingers danced over each of Louis soles.
Louis kicked his feet, relieved to feel Harry’s fingers only made a sudden feeling of ticklish-ness last for a few seconds, until they faded away and left his body entirely.
Louis sank into the bed, his fingers flexing outward, his face soaked with sweat and baby oil…
His hair had stuck to the sides of his head, but for now he couldn’t care less - he felt like he’d run a mile, no, several, on repeat, in the boiling sun…
“Alright, that’s it, it’s done now,” Louis looked from left to right behind his blindfold, “I, I ca-can’t do this, not anymore, not again …”
Harry, still sitting on Louis thighs, trailed his index fingertips gently over Louis’ ass cheeks, where he watched goosebumps land over them.
“HARRY—” Louis shouted, this time with a Northern snap, “—LEAVE IT’LONE, LAD—”
Harry didn’t leave Louis’ behind alone.
He continued to teasingly, and ever so gently, stroke and tickle each of Louis now wobbling, jiggling ass cheeks with fingernails painted mint green.
Louis hissed in frustration, his nostrils flaring, his eyes widening …
“Say sorry,” Harry murmured.
Louis thrashed his hips to the right, then the left, in an attempt to free his butt cheeks from Harry’s tormenting fingers.
“—I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ve said sorry already!”
Harry had now returned to Louis taint, even taking his tickling fingers up towards Louis tight, tiny hole …
Louis clenched his ass as Harry spoke again, this time deeper, this time darker…
“No,” he said, “Say sorry for missing my show.”
Louis frowned, during his writhing and kicking.
“What— I, I thought we, we, we were past th—“
—Harry sent his fingers up Louis taint, past his cheeks and around to his hips again.
“—AGH! ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M S—”
—Harry slid tickling fingers past Louis hips and now, across to his tummy.
Once again, he bear hugged him and tickled the boy relentlessly, pressing his face into the bottom of Louis’ spine.
“Say it again,” Harry requested, his nostrils now filled with the scent of Louis skin and sweat, “Say it!” Harry growled.
“I’M SORRY FOR MISSING YOUR SHOW! I WON’T DO IT AGAIN! I’M SORRY!”
Harry relaxed his fingers, whilst slumping down over Louis back.
He laid his head over Louis spine, catching his own breath, whilst Louis heaved repeatedly in and out, in and out, over the mattress.
“Bloody … Bloody Hell …” Louis coughed into the pillow, “… This, this fet… fetish you’ve got, you, you don’t f-fancy …” >cough< “…Sw-wappin’ it for another…?”
Both young men chuckled in exhaustion as Harry peeled his face off of Louis back.
Louis wished he could see, wished he had his sight back, but for now he remained securely blinded.
Suddenly, he felt the straps detach from his wrists.
His pulled his hands towards his chest as his ankles became looser too.
More ruffling, more fingers going into the toiletry bag, more footsteps over carpet …
Louis sat up, using aching arms to prop him into a seated position.
What the bloody heck is going on now, the daft sod surely can’t think of—
—Before he could remove his own blindfold, Harry did it for him.
Louis blinked blurry eyes over at his boyfriend, who smiled at Louis with a gentle smirk.
“Is it … Is it over?” Louis asked.
Harry shook his head, twirling his finger in the air, suggesting that Louis now lay on his back.
In his other hand he held a small, silver vibrator.
“Far from it…” said Harry.
‘HARRY’S SECRET’ CONCLUDES IN ‘HARRY’S SECRET, PART THREE’