Chapter Thirty Four - 'My Turn'

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR - ‘MY TURN’

Twenty three days into The Agreement …

… Seven days left.

Armie lay on his back, naked and tied to his bed in the starfish position.

He struggled to catch his breath, his tight stomach lifting and dropping, lifting and dropping, lifting and dropping …

He rested his head into the pillow, closing his eyes as he endured the remains of his orgasm, an orgasm still present at the tip of his cock and at the ends of his toes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lifting his head over his chest, “You’re a pro …”

Timothée lay on his side at the end of the bed, his feet sliding away from Armie’s stomach, his soles drenched in Armie’s cum …

He too was naked, he too was breathless, he too recognised his own orgasm still lingering under his skin.

“That was … That was … ” Tim hooked a finger under the pearl choker around his neck, “Fucking incredible. I had no idea it could feel so, so … ”

Armie raised his eyebrows, chuckling to himself, curling his hands around the rope that bound his wrists.

“Powerful?” Armie finished Tim’s sentence for him, swallowing down satisfaction, “Now you know how I’ve felt over the past three weeks …”

Armie kept his eyes on Tim, his gaze trailing over the boy's slim frame, from his broad chest all the way down to the feet that had just rubbed away at his cock for the best part of seven minutes.

“… Don’t get used to it,” Armie winked.

Tim felt his cheeks flush red.

He sat up, swinging his feet off the bed, grabbing a nearby towel where he began to pat his soles dry of Armie’s orgasm.

“What was uh, what was the worst part?” He asked.

Armie did not hesitate.

“The feather,” he answered, “Over my taint. Fuck, Timmy … You stayed there for what felt like hours!”

Tim spoke over his shoulder, a smirk lifting his lips.

“I learned from the best.”

An ambulance siren in the streets below filled the comfortable silence between two young men until a more unexpected noise arrived.

Bzzzzzzt!

Tim shifted his eyes to the hallway as Armie’s apartment door buzzer continued to buzz.

Bzzzzzt — Bzzzzzt! — Bzzzzt!

Tim took a step towards Armie’s dressing gown, currently draped over his desk chair.

As he picked it up, Armie shuffled over the mattress, still tied to his bed.

“Uhh, leave it, Tim, it’s probably just a salesman or—“

Bzzzzt!

Bzzzzzt!

Bzzzzzzzzzt!

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“I dunno, sounds pretty urgent …”

He threw the dressing gown on and knotted the belt around his waist.

“N, no, Tim, please …” Armie tried to sit up, but the bonds around his wrists and ankles restricted him from doing so.

Tim headed out of the bedroom, but before doing so he paused at the door frame.

He turned to Armie, offering him a playful smile.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Armie watched Tim disappear.

Bzzzzzzt!

Bzzzzt!

He threw his head back over the pillow in an aggressive bounce.

“Shit,” he hissed.

He could hear Tim’s bare feet patting down the staircase where the sound soon faded into nothing.

He stared into the ceiling, his heart pounding beneath his chest as he made out the clicks and clacks of Tim unlatching the lock, twisting the handle, pulling the door open …

And then there was mumbling.

Talking …

A raised voice …

Armie swallowed down a ball of anxiety.

I have to get down there, he thought.

He began to pull at his restraints.

He pressed his lips together and glared at the leather cuff around his left wrist, his bicep bulging as his eyes widened, the veins thickening at the sides of his head …

He tried desperately to pull his hand through the restraint but there was no budge.

“Damnit, he tied these good …” Armie muttered to himself, peering down the end of the bed where he then tried to pull his feet free from the ankle restraints.

He kicked and thrashed in a violent writhe, frustration saturating his face, his skin now glistening in perspiration.

The person who had bathed in power for so long now lay completely powerless, entirely out of control, a moment of maddening tension filling the room the longer Timothée remained downstairs.

Armie could feel the cold afternoon draft from the open apartment door press against the soles of his feet.

He sighed, unable to do anything but deal with the agonising torture of simply waiting.

Almost an hour passed by …

Until finally Armie heard the apartment door close shut.

Tim’s footsteps returned.

They sounded heavy, purposeful in their stomp.

Tim came back into Armie’s bedroom, intentionally avoiding his gaze.

His face looked stern, his eyes narrowed, his fists curled into balls.

“… Tim?” Armie croaked.

Tim ignored Armie, shrugging off his dressing gown, allowing it to fall to the floor.

He then walked back out of the bedroom.

*******

“Full power,” Armie said, offering Tim a single white feather, “You can do what you want to me, how you want, where you want … And all I can do, is submit.”

Both young men stood opposite each other in the kitchen.

Armie wore chinos, loafers and a polo shirt.

Tim wore a white tee, ripped denim jeans and converse.

He took the feather from Armie, rolling the nib between his thumb and index finger.

“When you told me about it, last night …” Tim raised his eyebrows, “… I kinda already knew what I wanted to do …”

Armie took a step back, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh yeah?”

Tim nodded, analysing the feather, its sharp edges, its long, structured length.

“I’m gonna tie you to your own bed, completely naked …” Tim spoke slowly, carefully, his voice deep, “… And I’m gonna repeat all of the worst things you’ve done to me, the stand out moments I couldn’t handle …”

He finally broke his gaze away from the feather, looking Armie directly in the eye, “… Make you feel the way I’ve felt, make you scream the way I’ve screamed, laugh as hard as I’ve laughed…”

Armie felt his arousal grow beneath his trousers.

Goosebumps travelled up his spine as he closed his eyes.

“You …” he cleared his throat, “… You have the basement, Sub Zero, literally dozens upon dozens of devices, contraptions and equipment … And you just want me on the bed?”

Tim nodded once again.

“Correct.”

Armie tilted his head.

“Why?”

Tim stepped closer towards Armie, his fingers curling around his left hand.

He stood on tiptoes, kissing Armie’s lips, his mouth pressing against his as he whispered something Armie used to say to him all the time, back when this all began.

“You ask too many questions …”

He then took Armie by the hand and led him towards his bedroom.

*******

“… Tim?” Armie called, his voice fading into the background as Tim walked into his own bedroom and began to pat around his unmade bed, lifting covers and sheets in an effort to locate his phone.

“… Timothée? Come back, Tim, I, I can explain …”

Tim found his phone where he had hastily left it earlier this morning, before throwing himself into the role of tickler several hours ago.

He swiped his thumb across the screen and began to go through his contacts.

His mouth fell open, his eyes filling with emotion.

“Tim, please, at least untie me so we can talk about this,” Armie yelled from his bedroom.

Tim felt his nostrils flare, the base of his nose began to sting …

He unblocked the blocked contacts.

Ping!

Message after message began to arrive far later than it had originally been sent.

Email notifications, one hundred and counting …

Mom: missed call.

Sister: missed call.

Agent: missed call.

Missed call, missed call, missed call …

Ping!

Mom: Where are you?

Ping!

Sister: Is everything okay?

Ping!

Agent: We need you in Budapest by Tuesday, Tim.

Ping!

Agent: Ok, Tim, this is the last time I try calling. Otherwise, I’m gonna just knock on the door to the last place you said you were at.

Agent: I don’t know Armie very well.

Ping!

Agent: I hope he doesn’t mind.

“Tuesday? That was over a week ago …” Tim mumbled to himself, “… Holy fu …”

He then threw his phone back onto the bed.

He walked towards his wardrobe and yanked open the doors.

He pulled out his suitcase.

He began to tear t-shirts, hoodies, sweaters and cargo pants off of hangers …

He left the outfit Armie had purchased for him.

He went into his ensuite bathroom and took his toothbrush, his razor, his hair gel …

And then he stopped moving entirely.

He had to know.

He dropped everything into his suitcase and slid into sweatpants.

He pulled a baggy black vest over his head and stormed back into Armie’s bedroom.

Armie lay bound and startled, a look of complete concern drenched over his face.

“Tim, I, I, I—“

“—Why?” Asked Tim, his hands dangling at his sides as his nostrils flared with emotion, “And don’t fucking dare lie, I know it was you, you’re the only person who’s had access to my phone, you, you f–”

–Armie huffed, pulling at the bonds that held him in place.

“Look, I’m not having this conversation until you let me the fuck out—“

Tim jolted forwards with a fierce step.

He shouted so loudly that spit shot from his mouth.

“NO. STOP IT. STOP BULLSHITTING ME!”

The volume of Tim’s voice caused Armie to jolt.

His body stiffened.

The room fell deadly quiet.

Armie’s weight sank into the mattress.

“I … I didn’t want you to leave, until The Agreement was over …”

Tim shot narrowed eyes into Armie’s bedroom ceiling.

He then began to pace from one side of the room to the other, his bare feet making no noise at all over the carpet.

“So you, you blocked the people closest to me on my own damn phone?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, pausing in his pace to face Armie, to shout at him once again, “You’re a fucking psychopath! They’ve been worried fucking sick …! They thought I’d gone missing!”

Armie felt panic consume him.

Tied this way, unable to move how he wanted, unable to stand and grab Tim, to hold him, to embrace him, to pull him close and reassure him that he was not insane, he was not obsessive, he was not a selfish moron …

It made him feel useless, trapped, cornered, made to experience this gut wrenching exposure.

“—You wanna know who that was, at the door?” Tim asked.

Armie clenched his teeth.

“Your, your Mom, your sis, sister…?”

Tim folded his arms across his chest.

He’s stuttering, he thought.

He rarely ever stutters.

He must be scared.

He should be.

“My agent,” Tim revealed, “He’s been trying to call me, text me, email me, fucking … Knocking at my parents door, my apartment door, trying to fucking tell me that I need to be on the other side of the fucking planet, shooting a movie, fucking holy shit …”

Tim clawed into his own hair, tears blurring his vision.

“My Mom was close to calling the cops,” he began to lose his breath, “Because you blocked her number, too …” emotion began to roll down his cheeks, “You fucking fr–”

Tim closed his mouth and wiped his face with the back of his hands, hating himself for the language he was about to use, hating himself for how much he suddenly and unexpectedly now hated Armie.

The hate flooded into him uncontrollably, suddenly, it filled his entire being …

He could feel it in his fingertips, his eyelashes, the tips of his teeth …

He glared at Armie, his voice filled with fury, ready to ask his next question.

“… When ..?”

*******

Tim sat down beside Armie on the edge of the bed.

Armie grinned, excited by how Tim might handle the next several hours.

Still both dressed, Tim extended his index finger and gently poked Armie’s side.

Armie scrunched into himself, a chuckle forced out of his mouth.

“What are you doing?” Armie asked, his elbow dropping down to protect a ribcage as Tim continued to jab.

“I’m testing you out,” Tim said, his poking landing in places Armie wouldn’t expect; his chest, above his hips, his collarbone …

Armie bounced on the spot, grabbing at Tim’s hands, forcing them away from his upper body.

Tim tried to pull his hands free but Armie’s hold was too tight.

Tim moved into Armie, looking at his mouth, his voice deep.

He pulled Armie’s hands down to the crotch of his jeans, his erection stiffening beneath his underwear.

“I’m fucking enjoying this,” Tim declared.

Armie smirked, his fingers curling around Tim’s arousal.

“I thought you would …”

Tim kept his eyes on Armie’s lips.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

Armie swallowed down the urge to kiss Tim.

He let go of Tim’s hands and then stood up.

He stepped away, slowly unbuttoning his polo shirt.

He then peeled it off as Tim remained seated at the edge of the bed, watching Armie undress.

Armie revealed his tanned torso, his broad, hairy chest, the thin whisper of blonde that trailed over his abs and around his navel.

He stretched long arms upward, exposing his armpits and ribcage, lifting the polo shirt over his head.

He then threw it at Tim.

Tim snatched it out of the air before it had the chance to land on his face, like Armie had planned.

Tim began to rub himself gently as Armie pulled his chinos down to his ankles.

Unlike Tim, Armie was not wearing any underwear.

His hard on sprung free.

He then stepped out of his trousers, kicking off his loafers, stepping to the side, standing completely naked, tall and triumphant.

Tim stood.

“Lay on the bed, on your back.”

He then brushed past Armie, strolling confidently into his walk-in wardrobe where he began to pull together a selection of bondage and tools that he would use on Armie.

Armie did has he had been told, crawling on the bed, laying down on his back, his erection the hardest it had been since Tim had walked into this apartment twenty three days ago.

*******

Armie yanked at his wrist restraints once, twice, three times …

Yank!

He had now been tied here for over eight hours.

“Tim, I, I know how much you love your job … How, how much it’s affected you, not being able to work …”

Armie gulped, trying to ignore the look of rage covering Tim’s face, “… I know how desperate you’ve been … As soon as you knew you had everything back I, I knew that you’d pack up and leave as soon as you could …”

Tim shook his head, lowering it as he closed his eyes, tears staining his vest.

“Tim, come on, let me out, let me explain this properly,” Armie urged, “It, it was just a knee jerk reaction, I, I let my selfishness get the better of me …”

Tim remained silent as he blinked into the carpet.

The sun outside Armie’s apartment window had begun to set behind the New York skyline.

Tim breathed in slowly.

“Desperate?” He scratched the tip of his chin, “You think I’ve stayed here and done all of this shit with you because … I’m desperate?”

Armie shifted his eyes from left to right.

“Well I,” he didn’t know what to say, “You, you signed up because there was payment … Are you telling me you were gonna carry on doing this, even after the contract–”

“--When.”

Tim ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, repeating the question that Armie had chosen to ignore.

“When …”

Armie sighed.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable quiet, he began to pull and thrash at his restraints with all the strength in his body.

The bed wobbled and creaked, the pillows and bedsheets fell off the mattress …

Tim stood and watched, his blurred gaze looking through Armie’s vigorous attempts.

When Armie realised that the only person that could set him free would be Tim, he slumped back onto the bed and stared impatiently into the ceiling.

“Tim,” Armie’s voice deepened, “Untie me … Now …”

Tim could hear his phone buzzing in his bedroom.

More delayed messages from the friends and family Armie had blocked from his phone now coming through in their thousands.

Kendall: You ok?

Kid Cudi: Hey bro, you’re quiet … What’s up?

Dad: Haven’t heard from you in a while.

Agent: Tim, I need your passport details for these Budapest flights …

Agent: I thought you’d be happy?

Sister: Has your phone broken? Don’t tell me you lost it again. Mom is gonna kill you …

Once again, Tim repeated his question.

“When …”

*******

Armie arched his back, his spine curving upward, his broad, hairy chest facing the ceiling, his toned stomach shimmering with sweat …

His long arms bound either side of him, his legs tied apart, hysteria creased over his face …

His blonde hair, so used to being slicked back and smart, now hung over his forehead in soaked tassels.

“Tim, please, fuck, damnit,” he growled, “Sss, stop, stop — fuck, fuck …”

Tim sat between Armie’s legs in a cross legged position, where he relentlessly see saw’d a white feather around Armie’s balls and the delicate skin that made up the betweens of his thighs.

Armie was naked, in bondage, helpless.

Tim was still fully clothed, in control, his grin showcasing how much he enjoyed being in this role.

“It’s a ticklish feeling unlike anything else,” Tim described, mostly from his own experience of having a feather repeatedly stroked against his taint by the man now bound with rope, “You think you can’t take it a second longer, yet here we are, forty five minutes into me staying at this spot and you’re still going …”

Armie’s eyes widened as he peered over his chest, a look of alarm directed at Tim.

“You, you shhhhh-should’ve given me a, a safe word,” his giggling had become coarse and breathless, his fingers flexing out in a maddened stretch, “I can’t, I can’t take it there … Please, go, go someplace else …”

Tim felt his hard on grow beneath his sweatpants.

He thought of all the times Armie had pushed him past his limit, and then some more …

He remembered being tied to this very bed, a feather infiltrating his ass cheeks, his right leg hooked over Armie’s shoulder.

He laughed and cried and shouted so much that day that he went to sleep that night with no voice.

Tim used his free hand to stroke Armie’s erection.

“Oh, I think you’re enjoying this, really …” Tim teased.

Armie bit his lower lip, his arousal growing stronger under the warmth of Tim’s palm.

“… Please, Tim, I’m, I’m begging you, go someplace else, go some place el, el, el …”

Tim stroked Armie’s cock with one hand whilst using his other hand to wiggle the feather between his thighs.

“Remember that time you tickled me so damn hard that I pissed myself?”

Armie bucked and bounced over the mattress, his bonds squeaking with every pull.

“How, how, how can I–” he shouted the last word, the feather now exploring the length of his cock, “--FORGET!”

Tim shuffled closer, his hand leaving Armie’s cock where it travelled up and down his sides in a delicate dance, his fingertips working Armie’s left rib cage.

Armie began to thrash around from left to right.

“I’d never experienced anything like that,” Tim announced, “And the worst part about it? You went in after. Knowing how destroyed I was, how ashamed I felt … And you still pushed me past a limit I reached hours before …”

Armie heaved in and out, in and out, in and out …

“I’m sssssorry!” He cried, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Tim slowed the feathers stroke down to an eventual stop.

He laid the feather out over Armie’s stomach.

He then stood on the bed, his shadow blanketing Armie.

“This is payback, for all of those times …”

Armie breathed in through his nose, huffed out of his mouth, repeated the process several times as he watched Tim peel off his vest.

Tim threw the vest to the floor and then began to yank off his converse.

Sockless, his feet were now bare, the converse on the floor.

Armie’s heart rate speeded up as Tim pulled down his jeans, the shape of his erection visible in his underwear.

Tim discarded the jeans over the bedroom floor.

He then took careful steps over Armie, where he stood with his feet planted at either side of Armie’s torso.

“All tied up…” Tim spoke quietly, observedly, “... Can’t do anything … Can’t move … Can’t touch …”

Tim lifted his right foot and hovered it over Armie’s face.

Armie closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Tim’s sole, a sole that hung inches away from his lips.

He opened his mouth and lifted his head from the pillow, stretching out his tongue in an attempt to make contact with Tim’s toes.

Tim lifted his foot away from Armie.

Armie sighed, his head landing back over the pillow.

“You know what I hated the most?” Tim asked.

Armie remained silent, his blue eyes looking up at Tim.

Tim stepped off the mattress.

He walked to the end of the bed, where he had laid out his tools over Armie’s bedroom floor, out of sight.

Each one always a surprise for Armie.

Tim stood with baby oil in one hand and a hairbrush in the other.

“I haven’t made you scream yet,” Tim noticed, “Let’s do something about that …”

F I V E D A Y S A G O . . .

Tim showered upstairs while Armie cooked dinner in the kitchen.

He had chicken roasting in the oven, vegetables boiling in a pot, wine chilling in the refrigerator …

As he mashed potatoes, Tim’s phone began to ping.

Armie ignored it at first …

The boy was always getting messages, texts from friends, notifications from instagram …

Nothing work related, until now.

Ping!

Armie dropped the wooden spoon into the pan and grabbed a nearby tea towel, wiping his hands clean as he approached Tim’s phone laid out on the kitchen side.

He had left it unlocked.

Armie liked to think that was because Tim trusted him entirely, but even the closest of friends locked their phones around each other …

No, Armie thought.

This sort of mistake happens after a session involving hypnosis.

Tim hadn’t been thinking straight, his mind too muddled and confused, his aim to shower off such a strange experience where he had been hypnotised and tickled at the same time.

Tim never left his phone just anywhere.

Armie felt ready to turn around and return his focus to the mashed potato, but the quantity of pings raised his interest.

… Ping, ping, ping!

Armie paused before reaching out to Tim’s phone.

What are you doing.

He wants you to see.

That’s why he left it here.

A sickness flooded his chest.

He wants you to do it.

He was unsure if that sickness was nerves or if it was a sickness towards himself, a disgust at what he currently considered doing.

Armie picked Tim’s phone up, his eyes trailing over the messages.

Brian, his agent.

Armie breathed in, glancing at the kitchen door, fully aware that Tim could walk in at any moment.

Thankfully the sound of shower water upstairs reassured him that Tim’s arrival wouldn’t be taking place anytime soon.

Armie leant against the kitchen side and took in all of this new information.

Hey Timmy!

Great news …

Dune is back on. Denis wants you in Budapest right away.

We’re thinking Tuesday.

Call me back! Need to arrange flights, covid tests, hotels, etc.

…

Armie felt his heart sink through his body.

He wasn’t ready for Tim to go.

He still had so much he wanted to do with him, to him, for him …

This wouldn’t be a pause.

This wouldn’t be a case of Tim leaving for a few weeks, only to return and jump back into bondage at the click of a finger.

This was Tim leaving for good.

Everything they had built, all they had experienced …

Ending, this very evening …

Unless you do something about it.

*******

“Why did you have to block everyone…?” Tim asked, his eyebrows raised, his jaw hanging open, “Why my Mom, why my sister … Even damn Zendaya?”

Armie thrusted again in his bonds, his jolt aggressive and determined.

“I have to remove anyone who might interfere with us,” Armie growled, “It was a stupid thing to do! I’m sorry, Tim, believe me, if I could go back and change what I–”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” Tim’s hands dangled by his sides as a tear rolled down his left cheek, “We could’ve worked something out, I could’ve bought us some more time …” he lowered his head, curls of hair littering the top half of his face, “... You’ve ruined everything, Armie.”

Armie clenched his teeth, Tim’s voice sounding final and decisive.

“We can, we can still figure this out, Tim,” Armie pulled at his restraints, “Come on, let me out, let me talk to you about this properly …” his anger began to increase, his cheeks flushing red, “... Fuck! Come on, Tim, let me the fuck out!”

Tim remained silent and still.

“This is all my fault,” he declared, landing at a dire realisation.

Armie shook his head.

“What? No, I’m the one who fucked up, you have every right to be–”

Tim stepped away from the bed.

“I let you get like this,” he spoke in a quiet mumble, “I let you turn into this, this fucking obsessed f …”

Tim closed his eyes, reminding himself once again not to say the word ‘freak’.

“I should never of signed that fucking contract,” Tim’s fingers curled around the pearl choker attached to his neck, “I should never of let this go on for so long …”

Tim pulled the choker away from his neck, snapping it in two.

The pearls fell to the floor, rolling underneath Armie’s bed.

Tim opened up his fingers, allowing the remains of the necklace to drop over the carpet.

Armie stared at Tim with wide eyes, his head lifted off the pillow.

“No, Tim … Please, wait …”

Tim turned his back on Armie and then went back to packing his suitcase.

“Tim, please!”

“Please!”

“... Please …”

*******

“... Please, please, please stop!”

Armie could feel Tim’s erection at the back of his head as he smacked it repeatedly into Tim’s stomach, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you, you mother fucker–”

Tim had positioned himself behind Armie.

He sat with his legs stretched out, Armie’s head in his lap.

Tim knew all too well what it was like to be placed in this way … Armie had done it to him a dozen times before.

Seated here like this, Tim had perfect access to Armie’s underarms and Armie had the perfect view of Tim’s feet.

“Way more than I thought I would,” Tim admitted, a playful grin spreading across his face.

Tim tickled the sweaty depths of Armie’s underarms with all ten fingers, five in each pit, just as he had been doing so for the past hour.

Before this, he had run a hairbrush up Armie’s soles, sent an electric toothbrush over his lips and had teased his cock with a feather, bringing him close to orgasm.

“I can’t take it,” Armie had now begun to shout, a serious tone taking over his voice, “I mean it, Tim, that’s enough, the game’s over, I’m taking back control–”

Tim laughed in joyous entertainment.

“You’re tied up, Armie! You’re going nowhere till I say. I can keep you here all night long …”

Armie began to pant, his eyes shooting down to Tim’s hands working their magic deep within his underarms.

“No, please, come on, seriously, that’s enough,” he coughed and heaved, laughed and giggled, his waist bucking up above the mattress, “If I’d have known you were so damn good at this I would’ve suggested doing something else, damnit–”

Armie’s hard on sprung from side to side the more he shifted his waist from left to right.

Tim’s erection remained stiff throughout - he felt surprised about how much he enjoyed actioning this revenge, how much being in control turned him on like this…

“You’re more ticklish than you make out,” Tim commented, his fingers now dancing up and down Armie’s sides, “Maybe we switch roles for a while, I’m having too much fun…”

Armie twisted his head over Tim’s lap, a forceful, “No,” leaving his mouth as he heaved out more hysteria, “Just you wait, you’re gonna pay for this, the next time I get you tied up I’m gonna fucking–”

“--You’re gonna what, Armie? You’re screwed! This is what you get, for being such a bitch to me all month! Sucks, doesn’t it? Being tickled till you can’t breathe, you can’t see, you can’t speak?”

As Tim tried to make out Armie’s babbled response, a thought landed in his head.

After this, I am going back into rope.

And if you push him too far, he really will fuck me up when he gets the chance …

Tim thought about all of the other devices and tools Armie had yet to introduce him to

How merciless he could be, when he was just being Armie …

With revenge in his veins, Tim knew that Armie would go harder and further than ever before.

Tim gulped at the idea of enduring something far more sinister than he’d dare to imagine.

Tim slowed down the tickling, his fingers stroking Armie’s pits where they eventually wiggled down to a gradual stop.

Armie lay breathless and drenched in sweat, his erection splayed out over his stomach.

“Alright, alright,” Tim tucked some curls of hair behind his ear, “I don’t wanna piss you off too much …”

He then slid away from behind Armie and climbed off the bed.

Armie’s face was red and shiny, his body vibrating with a fierce desperation, his muscles taunt, his cock twitching.

“That was hot …” Armie smirked.

Tim held onto the waistband of his underwear and turned to face his lee.

“It’s about to get hotter,” he whispered, pulling his briefs down to his ankles.

Tim then climbed back onto the bed and crawled towards Armie.

He then positioned himself so that he sat over Armie’s thighs, with his back to him.

From here, Armie could make out Tim’s smooth back, his plump ass and his silky soft soles planted at either side of his chest.

Tim reached behind, his fingers curling around Armie’s erection where he carefully lifted it into place.

“Wait, Tim, aren’t you gonna untie me first?” Armie asked.

Tim remained quiet and unresponsive, actioning the next stage of Armie’s torture.

“Tim?”

Tim then began to lower himself onto Armie, his hole taking Armie’s arousal, his toes and soles inches away from Armie’s chest …

Easy to touch, if Armie’s wrists weren’t bound …

*******

Tim returned to Armie’s bedroom in a grey hoodie, denim jacket, cap and sunglasses.

He wore Adidas sweatpants tucked into sports socks and chunky white running trainers.

His ear-pods were already plugged into his ears, the suitcase behind him already zipped up …

Armie remained tied and exhausted.

“Tim, you can’t seriously be leaving …” Armie tried to sit up, the leather cuffs squeaking as he did so, “... I’ve said I’m sorry. We had less than two weeks left when I did what I did, I, I always planned to unblock the numbers as soon as our arrangement neared its end, I, I promise, I’m, I’m not a psychopath, I’m not obsessed, I, I, I just really didn’t want this to–”

Tim held up his right hand.

Armie closed his mouth.

“... ‘Did what I did’...?” Tim chuckled into his chest, his bloodshot eyes hidden by his shades, “You can’t even say it out loud, can you?”

Armie’s weight sank into the mattress.

“This is all just an example of how much I like you, Tim. I care about you. I didn’t want you just, jetting off without–”

“-- Without discussing it with you first?” Tim tilted his head, “Like I even had a chance, or a choice?”

Armie kicked his legs in frustration, tired of his nude display, his restricted position.

“You’re overreacting! You’re using this as an excuse to leave. You’ve had enough, you’re just not man enough to say it out loud.”

Tim allowed Armie to embarrass himself with such an accusation.

The room fell into silence once again.

Armie glared into the ceiling, full aware of how desperate he appeared by attempting to turn the tables so forcefully.

Tim pinched his lower lip, looking down at his feet.

“The only person you should be blaming for me leaving today, is you.”

*******

“I’m close,” Armie whispered, as if the breath leaving his lips might be his last, “F, fuck, I’m close …”

Tim rode Armie with his back facing him, rolling his back slowly, massaging Armie’s cock with the tightness of his ass lifting up and down, up and down, up and down …

When he felt Armie begin to twitch and throb inside him, Tim slowed down his movements and carefully slid off of Armie.

Armie threw his head over his chest in a frustrated scowl as Tim shuffled down to the foot of the bed.

“You bastard…” Armie shuddered, his fists curling into balls.

Tim allowed Armie’s cock to pulsate as he laid on his back.

He faced Armie, now massaging his own erection as he lifted his feet and landed them gently around Armie’s cock.

Armie gasped, his hands pulling inward, his bonds stopping him from reaching out and grabbing Tim’s soles just like he wanted to …

“Damnit,” Armie shot frustrated looks at his restraints, his head twisting from side to side.

He then gasped as Tim began to massage Armie’s cock with his feet.

He curled his toes around his shaft, he wiggled them across the tip of Armie’s erection…

He scooped up Armie’s precum from the tip of his cock and used it as lube, his soft silky soles gliding up and down Armie’s arousal in a generous, effortless glide.

Tim used one hand to hold onto his own throat as his other hand rubbed over his cock …

Both of his feet, now soaked in Armie’s precum, writhing over Armie’s balls and taint …

His long toes curling around the girth, his index toe and big toe of his right foot catching Armie’s tip …

Armie pulled his head forwards as he watched Tim give him a foot job …

“Holy fffff—”

He so desperately wanted to touch Tim’s feet, to lick his soles, grab his toes, to tickle them and bite them and scratch at their tender bottoms …

Yank!

Armie lay bound too tightly, tortured in a way that wasn’t tickling …

Tim seemed to be getting close himself.

Armie focused on the pleasure at the base of his cock.

The dull ache around his hips.

Expertly, he joined Tim’s rhythm and allowed his orgasm to arrive at the same time as Tim’s …

Both of them erupting in unison …

For what could be, unbeknownst to them in that moment, the last time ever …

*******

Armie’s mouth flattened, the droplets of cum from his orgasm now cold over his stomach.

Suddenly, that personality that tickled too hard, that went for the toes instead of the sole, that spent time on a spot no matter how breathless Tim got …

That sinister side revealed itself once again, this time not as a tickler, but as someone desperate for their obsession to stay.

“If you leave, you won’t be getting paid …”

Armie spoke with a deep, grainy tone to his voice, his words broken from all the laughter he had endured, as well as the seriousness of his ultimatum.

“... You can say goodbye to that ten million dollars.”

Tim felt relieved he had chosen to wear sunglasses.

Tears filled his eyes as he pressed his lips together.

He wiped his nose and nodded quickly.

Armie curled his fingers around the rope binding his wrists.

“Stay with me, Tim. Untie me, let’s talk this over …”

Tim finished his nod with a slow bob of his head.

He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and walked out of Armie’s bedroom, his sneakers crushing the pearls of his choker as he headed towards the door.

“I don’t need your damn money,” Tim growled, lifting a trembling right hand where he pointed at Armie’s restraints, “And uh, good luck, with that …”

Armie paused in disbelief.

Tim turned away from Armie, purposefully leaving him restrained.

Armie listened to Tim’s footsteps head down the hall, over steps, past the kitchen and living room …

“No, Tim, please, come back! Fuck, come back! Don’t do this! I’m sorry!”

He began to thrash and pull at his bonds.

He felt naked, lost, out of control, shocked and emotional, unable to do anything about his current circumstance …

The complete opposite to how he had practically existed since Tim had signed on the dotted line.

Armie gave up on trying to escape.

He lay there rejected, defeated and bound …

Only able to listen to the apartment door slamming shut.

TCTLR concludes in The Final Chapter - ‘Find Me’ …