“We believe him to be highly sensitive all over …

… However, judging by our members popular demand and belief in his feet visually, we understand his size elevens to be at an ‘exceptional’ level of ticklish.

Play your role.

Take him …

… And a chance at true freedom is yours.

🤡

DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES

Dylan winced as he stretched his neck to the left, his eyes narrowing in focus at the leaflet held in his hands.

‘Sensory Massage Experience Unlike Any Other’.

‘You’ll never ache again’.

Dylan stretched his neck to the right and rubbed his shoulder, the dull throb that had been present throughout various areas of his body stubborn in its refusal to fade away.

He better be right about this, Dylan thought.

I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.

Dylan sat in the Spa waiting area on a plastic chair, keen for the receptionist on the other side of the room to call his name; he had been dealing with these aches for over three months, since he finished the first half of his tour - no matter how many massages he had, no matter how many physical therapists he had seen, no technique seemed to work - for Dylan, this was literally his last option before returning to the road.

“Mr. Minnette?”

Dylan glanced up with an eager smile.

“Room Six, down the hall,” the receptionist barely lifted her head from her paperwork as she instructed Dylan where to go.

Dylan nodded politely and shot to his feet.

Carrying a rucksack in one hand and the leaflet in the other, he made his way down the hall, passing Room One, Room Two, Room Three …

As he arrived at Room Six, he gently knocked his knuckles over the surface of the door and waited for someone on the other side to announce he could come in.

The door popped ajar.

Dylan cocked an eyebrow and nudged his fingertips against the door, pressing it inwards, where he stepped inside a quiet, dimly lit room faintly playing Chinese meditation music in the background.

In the middle of the room was a massage table.

On the massage table was a neatly folded white towel, a welcome note and a red rubber clown’s nose laid out next to it.

Dylan placed his bag down by the door and closed it shut, folding the leaflet into his pocket, where he then made his way towards the table, his right hand picking up the note.

“… Ready to have your life changed? …” Dylan read the words on the note out loud, “… Undress, lay on your front, cover your lower extremities if you prefer … “ Dylan gulped, “ … Your masseuse will be with you once we feel you have relaxed …”

Dylan took icy blue eyes around the room as he wondered how ‘they’ would be aware how relaxed he looked, without anyone else physically being in the room with him.

He smirked as he picked up the clown’s nose - already, this experience felt unique, different, one of a kind compared to his recent attempts at ridding his sprains and muscle tension - that acknowledgement alone fuelled him with the confidence and promise that after today, he could quite possibly be pain-free.

Dylan pinched the clowns nose twice.

Squeak squeak.

He chuckled and placed the rubber nose and welcome note on a nearby desk.

He shrugged off his denim jacket, unbuckled his belt and began to pull off his Converse.

As he undressed, he folded all garments into a neat pile beside his rucksack, now standing in just acid wash jeans and white Nike socks.

Dylan felt a blush of pink arrive at his cheeks as he pulled down his jeans and hooked his thumbs over the waist band of his Calvin Kleins.

With only a few seconds of bashful hesitance considered, Dylan yanked down his underwear, stepping out of his briefs and the bundle of denim around his ankles, revealing a tight, round ass, low hanging, plump cock and dangling, hairless balls.

The blue shine lighting the corners of the room lit all of the finer areas of Dylan’s body as he peeled off his socks; his sculpted back, muscular shoulders, well defined biceps and thick yet slender thighs.

Unlike a lot of his more vested shows, Dylan spent the last two weeks in South America performing topless - that meant a lot of hot Brazilian sun had beamed down over his torso, cooking him from head to waist on a daily basis, his skin therefore currently vibrating with a soft yet glowing tan.

Dylan dropped his socks on his pile of clothes and climbed onto the massage table.

He laid down on his front, reached behind him and lifted the towel over his buttocks.

The towel was rather small, so it only covered Dylan from waist to balls.

Dylan felt a little exposed; he grinned excitedly into the massage table and closed his legs tightly, catching his balls between his thighs, planting his feet together, side by side, his creamy white, silky smooth soles facing upward.

Dylan sighed in content and positioned either of his arms at his left and right side, sinking his body into the surface of the padded table as he awaited for his masseuse’s arrival.

He reminded himself that they would only turn up once they ‘felt he was fully relaxed’, something he urged himself to feel as soon as he closed his eyes.

Dylan breathed in slowly …

… Then he breathed out.

He wiggled his fingers and then laid his hands down so that his palms faced the ceiling.

He bit his upper lip impatiently, already aware of how much he was fidgeting.

After a few minutes of practised focus, where he forced himself to just listen to the background music whilst picturing a future where he did not ache after every show, Dylan closed his eyes and found himself drifting into the start of a nap.

With his body now in full relax, the massage room door clicked open.

Dylan smiled and kept his eyes closed as he readied himself to make small talk with the masseuse, however the masseuse did not greet him with a hello or a how are you, instead they got to work straight away.

“Oh,” Dylan expressed his surprise as he felt a tender touch arrive at his right wrist, “Uh, hey …” he felt weird not verbally acknowledging his masseuse, especially as he or she would soon be about to touch him so intimately, so he tried to lift his head to face a person he had paid a large sum of money to serve him, however a soft palm tenderly nudged against the tufts of his recently dyed pink hair, urging him to keep his face down.

Dylan clenched his teeth nervously as the masseuse pressed their fingertips into his forearm, kneading their way up to his elbow, where they eventually arrived at Dylan’s right shoulder.

Dylan contained a moan as the masseuse began to roll their knuckles over a taunt part of his back muscle, releasing pressure down his spine and towards his waist, removing the dull ache once present within a matter of seconds.

Dylan peeled his eyes open.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled into the massage table, “This feels … Incredible!”

The masseuse rested both palms over Dylan’s toned back, where they then slid them down to his hips, peeling the towel back to the tops of his thighs, so that both of Dylan’s ass cheeks were now exposed.

Dylan pursed his lips and swallowed down a bubble of anxiety as a private part of his body became exposed to a stranger he had not yet even had the chance to look at.

The masseuse used their fingers and thumb of each hand to rub both of Dylan’s ass cheeks; their thumbs gliding from the middle of Dylan’s ass all the way to the top side of each cheek - such an act caused Dylan’s ass cheeks to spread, revealing a smooth, tiny, hairless hole and an even silkier, softer looking taint.

Dylan could feel his face burn with embarrassment as the base of his cock automatically began to harden, the firm touch across both of his ass cheeks naturally arousing him, no matter how much he willed for it not to.

Much to Dylan’s relief, the masseuse lifted the tiny towel and placed it back over Dylan’s ass, their hands now kneading away knots and tense chunks of muscle that made up his left thigh.

This time, Dylan could not contain his moan as further dull aches and irritating stings left his body, “—Mnn—”, he could not believe how quickly the relentless discomfort he had endured for weeks and weeks on end seemed to fade away into nothing, thanks to the expert touch and professional skill from the hands of the masseuse now making their way to his feet.

Dylan squeezed his eyes shut as the masseuse’s fingertips arrived at each of his heels, his semi erect cock now limping out into a flaccid lay.

As the Chinese meditation music continued to play in the background, the masseuse took their fingertips and rubbed Dylan’s heels firmly, the fingertips pressing into their bulbous shape before making their way towards the arches of Dylan’s feet.

Dylan giggled into the surface of the massage table, kicking his feet upward with such force the masseuse had to jump their fingers away from Dylan’s soles.

“I’m, I’m sorry!—” Dylan apologised quickly, choosing to not go into further detail as he rested his feet back down over the massage table, their tops planting over the surface, his soles back together, side by side.

He ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth as he reluctantly offered such a sensitive part of his body back to his masseuse - if they continued to focus on this specific body part for longer than he could take, he might have to ask them to work on someplace else …

Before Dylan could contemplate further, he let out a tiny gasp as he felt something cold and wet arrive over his feet.

What Dylan assumed was oil trickled between his toes, causing them to flex and curl as the slippery liquid continued to coat the entire expanse of his size elevens.

“Oh, oh god—” Dylan buried his face deeper into the surface of the massage table as the masseuse’s index finger and thumb arrived at his left big toe, “Oh, oh my god …” he could not hide his dread as the masseuse began to pull at the toe, causing the pressure contained between the bone to crack, removing a sharp ache at the bottom of Dylan’s spine that had been bugging him for the past three days, “… Oh, oh wow!” Dylan grinned as yet another discomfort was removed from his body, “Man, you are so awesome—” Dylan chuckled in disbelief, “—H, how did you—”

—Quite suddenly, Dylan found his chuckles transforming into heavy grunts as he was taken by surprise, the masseuse’s fingernails now dragging up the soles of his feet, from toe to heel.

“Ugh! Mnn, damn—” Dylan kicked his feet uncontrollably, “—Mnn—”, their flex and twist something he had no choice in acting out, “—Oh, mnn—”, having his feet touched in such a way caused electric jolts to shoot up and down his legs, “—Uh! Oh! Mnn—”, even if he tried his hardest, he could not stop his feet from twisting away from the masseuse’s fingernails as they continued to drag and scratch across his now well oiled, slippery soles, “Oh! Oh, mnn, mnn!—”

Dylan made a conscious effort to take this seriously and not to laugh, even if all he wanted to do right now was scream and giggle - so he pressed his lips shut and widened his eyes, containing his squeals at the back of his throat, reminding himself that there surely must be a sensible reason for why the masseuse was inflicting such a sensory overload across the bottoms of his feet - he reassured himself that ‘sensory experience’ was quite literally the title of the leaflet, the name of the session, and that the methods contained were likely to be different compared to the others he had experienced when trying to remove the discomfort he had gone through for so long, something the masseuse had so far been successful at.

However, much to Dylan’s confusion, the masseuse did not stop - in fact, they started to actively tickle his feet, their fingernails now drawing shapes such as squares and circles across his oil soaked soles, “—Mnn! Mnn! Oh!—” Dylan felt his eyes water as he curled his fists into balls, his feet kicking and his legs thrashing outward once he realised the masseuse was making a focused attempt to scribble into the bottoms of his feet, causing such an unbearably ticklish sensation to arrive over the soft and shimmering landscape of his soles that Dylan could not hold back his displeasure any longer.

“Hey! Hey! Stop! Quit it!—” Dylan yelped, his arms still planted at either of his sides, his face now squashed into the surface of the massage table, his legs kicking rampantly, their tops smacking down over the leather padding in a non stop violent thwack, “—Hey! Come on, that tickles, man! I can’t take it!—” Dylan huffed, his kicking now so swift and swiping that two developments had no choice but to take place at the same time; firstly, the towel covering Dylan’s ass naturally slipped away, it’s gentle drape over his ass cheeks falling off his body thanks to how aggressive his kicks had become, “—Ah! Oh, oh, man! Mnn, mnn!—”, his ass now lay entirely on show, each cheek jiggling and wobbling with every kick as the second development took place - his masseuse taking additional control.

Dylan felt the masseuse use one hand to hold his feet down over the table - a claw like grip arrived over both ankles, keeping Dylan’s feet still, no longer allowing him to kick, as the fingernails of the masseuse’s spare hand continued to scribble over both of his soles.

Dylan, now alarmed and rather panicked, squirmed over the surface of the table in a giggly mess; he threw his torso from side to side and he reached out into nothing, his pink head of hair flaying with every shake of his head as he expelled high pitched laughter, mixed with desperate begging, as his calming massage became an unexpected and unbearable form of tickle torment.

“—Oh! Oh my god! Mnn, mnn! I, I can’t do this part, please! Mnn! Mnn, oh! Oh my god!—” Dylan bit into his forearm as he buried his face into his left armpit, “—Oh, oh damn! Mnn! Mnn! Ahaha! Mnn, no more, hey, listen to me, my, my feet are too ticklish, I, I can’t stand this!—”, his feet twisted over each other, the top of his right trying to protect the sole of his left, the top of his left trying to protect the sole of his right, and so on, “—Agh! Ha! Ha! Mnn! Oh! Oh! Oh! Hey! Quit it! Stop! Come on!—”, as the masseuse scribbled and scribbled and scribbled into both of Dylan’s soles at the same time, causing Dylan to pant and sweat, his head ready to turn over his shoulder where he would look his masseuse in the eye and plead for them to move onto another part of his body, “—Hey! This doesn’t feel like a massage, man! Please, you’re tickling me!—”

Before Dylan could action such a glare, the masseuse stopped.

Dylan huffed into the surface of the table, his shoulders dropping, his mouth falling open as he blinked away blurred vision and curled his toes out into a flexed stretch, his attempt at getting rid of the itchiness tingling across the entire landscape of his soles.

"I’m, I’m sorry, man … ” Dylan apologised once again, licking his lips and returning his arms to either of his sides as his nostrils flared, “My feet are so ticklish, it’s unreal—” he chuckled and cleared his throat as his weight sank into the table, “Uh, if uh, if it’s okay, you can leave them alone for the rest of the—”

Dylan jolted as he felt the masseuse dance their fingertips up both of his legs, “—Oh! Oh, uuhh, o, okay! Uhh, so, uhhm—” he kicked his legs and arched his back, his ass cheeks clapping as he wriggled his hips, the masseuse’s toying touch now arriving around his taint, “—Mnn! Mnn, oh! Uh, so uhm, I guess this is like, a tickle thing?—” he bounced up as the masseuse’s fingernails dragged over his balls and past his hole, where they drew lines over both of his ass cheeks, “—Is, is that uh, oh! Damn!—” he giggled into the massage table as the masseuse arrived at his waist, tickling his lower sides so unexpectedly that Dylan had to clamp his elbows against his ribcage, “—Gah! Is that what ‘ssss, sss, sensory experience’ meh, means?—” Dylan twisted to the right as the masseuse jabbed into his left side, “—Buh! Because, I, I don’t think I wanna do any more if, if you’re just gonna t, ti, tickle me! Ahaha! Ahaha! Ahaha!—” Dylan fell into high pitched giggles as the masseuse began to explore his underarms the best they could, but Dylan had pressed his arms tight against his sides, determined at refusing entry, “—No! No way, you’re not coming in! Ahahahaha! Aahhaha! You’re, you’re not coming in!—” he protested.

Dylan’s body stiffened as the tickling touch firmed up, his masseuse’s fingers curling around his wrists, where they attempted to take his arms above his head.

“—No!—” Dylan giggled, his arms tugging back towards him, the masseuse pulling them away once more, “—I’m not letting you do this!—” his forehead rubbed against the leather padding as his masseuse successfully positioned Dylan’s hands at the top edge of the table, where they made sure Dylan’s fingers held on tight, a gentle pat to his knuckles reassuring him he was safely in place, “—I, I know you’re gonna tickle me, I just know it!—” breathlessly, he straightened out his arms and gripped hold of the tables edge with clenched teeth as he awaited another round of tickling from his masseuse, his underarms now open, the stink from each pit wafting up his nose, “—Oh man, what have I got myself into …” Dylan whined.

Much to Dylan’s surprise, the masseuse began to firmly massage his forearms, starting at his wrists, “—Huh—” he smiled and relaxed his body as the masseuse used their thumbs to glide towards his elbows, where they then continued to massage across his biceps, “—Mnn—”, proceeding to successfully remove additional aches and pulls at the base of his shoulder, “—Yes—”, he huffed, “—This is more like it—” he moaned, his eyelashes fluttering shut as his masseuse’s hands arrived at his head, where they made sure Dylan continued to lay with his face down.

The masseuse persisted in luring Dylan into a false state of security by massaging his shoulders and neck, kneading away knots and tight chunks with such ease that Dylan had no choice but to moan into the massage table, the acknowledgement of each discomforting ache being so effortlessly removed working as a successful tool in making him forgive the tickling, an unknown part of the process Dylan had convinced himself was a seemingly vital if unbearable inclusion of what he had paid so much money for.

“Mnn—” Dylan tightened his grip at the top end of the massage table as the masseuse pressed their thumbs into his shoulder blades and the centre of his spine, “—Oh damn—”, he bit his upper lip as the hard nudge rolled down to his lower back, where it returned to his buttocks, the masseuse’s fingertips wedging themselves between his ass cheeks, “—Oh!—” Dylan tried to squeeze his thighs together, but the masseuse used their free hand to spread them apart, “—Mnn—” his arousal making itself present once again in the shape of a once flaccid cock now gradually developing into the start of a juicy chunk, “—Mnn, this is uh—”, Dylan peeled his eyes open as he felt the masseuse palm each of his ass cheeks, where they began to rub them softly, “—This is pretty surreal …” he admitted, unsure of what else to say as his ass was massaged with such dedicated focus that his cock had now pulsated out into a full erection, “… I’m uh, ss, sorry about this—” he apologised yet again, “—I’m, I’m sure it happens all the time?” He so desperately wanted his masseuse to communicate, but just as they had for the entirety of the session so far, no verbal response was offered back.

The masseuse’s palms slid away from Dylan’s ass where they then journeyed back over his legs, massaging his calves and ankles before returning to his feet.

Without hesitation, Dylan immediately crossed his feet over each other, a wide and playful grin spreading across his face.

The masseuse’s fingers danced over his soles, causing his feet to kick, before lifting away from his toes where they left his feet completely, for the time being.

Dylan planted his soles back together, side by side.

As a few seconds of silence passed by, Dylan began to wonder how the massage session would develop next, but before he could really start to ponder he acknowledged the soft flutter of a feather arrive over the bone of his right ankle.

Dylan kicked his right leg with such force that the massage table creaked.

“Hey!—” Dylan huffed into the leather padding, “—The leaflet said nothing about tickling!”

Dylan realised quickly he was fighting a losing battle, as the feather travelled up his right leg and towards his right ass cheek, his cock once again lessening in its stiffness, its rigid shape now slumping back out into a squashed muscle between his thighs, “Will it be tickling throughout?” He whined, “I uh, probably wouldn’t of paid so much if I knew you were gonna drive me crazy like this—” he chuckled anxiously as the feather glided over the bottom of his back, causing his hips to thrust inward, his ass cheeks clenching, “—Ooh! O, okay, en, enough with that—” Dylan bit his upper lip as he felt the feather brush across his left armpit, its sharp yet soft blades sliding between the curls of his underarm hair, “—Hey! Uh, maybe I could just get reimbursed! This uh, isn’t what I expected!—” he hissed.

Dylan had no choice but to let go of the top of the massage table, where he yanked his arms back down to his sides, concealing his pits by pressing his elbows firmly against his rib cage, “—Stop it!—” he giggled.

As Dylan went to lift his head, to try to look his masseuse in the eye once again, firm palms pressed his face back down against the leather padding.

Dylan huffed as those hands curled back around his wrists, pulling his arms gently back into place, where his own fingers curled back over the top edge of the table.

The masseuse then took the feather between Dylan’s neck, causing his head to snap against his right shoulder, “—Hey!—”, his legs to kick and his ass to clap, his head snapping against his left shoulder, “—Hey!—”, as the feather jumped and infiltrated the sensitive space of flesh between his right collarbone and jaw, “—God, this is unbearable!—”, Dylan laughed, his toes curling in frustration as the feather travelled over his upper spine, “—Can I at least get the towel back?” He nipped his shoulder with his teeth, all too aware of how naked he was, how ashamed he felt being made to squirm in the nude before a total stranger, “I uh, I feel pretty stupid, man!”

Dylan sighed out relief as the feather fluttered past his hip and away from his body, his masseuse once again leading him into a gradual relax as their touch arrived hard over his shoulders in the form of a pressing rub.

Dylan closed his eyes, the rub gliding across the tops of his arms, where the fingers then reached towards his armpits, causing his eyes to snap open as his hands to snatch back towards his chest.

“No!—” he chuckled, shaking his head fiercely “—Enough!—” he spat, ready to lift his head once again, his masseuse and their controlling palms pressing him back down so that his face lay planted against the massage table, “—Hey! How long is left?”— he growled, already tutting at himself as he asked a question to someone who so far had refused to even say hello, “—Oh yeah, that’s right, you don’t speak …” he smirked.

The masseuse took Dylan’s wrists and positioned them back at his sides, his arms returning to their laid out position, his pits back to being concealed, something that made Dylan feel a little calmer, even if he did rest in high alert, always taking in the sound of his masseuse’s footsteps as they walked around the massage table …

Dylan blinked into the leather padding, his body jumping into a shocked bounce as he felt the return of cold, thick, wet liquid arriving over his body - this time not just over the bottoms of his feet, but his thighs, ass, back and shoulders, its delivery landing on his skin in the form of a reckless squirt.

Dylan heaved in a sharp intake of breath as the masseuse began to massage the oil into his muscles, starting with his feet and then working their way up to his thighs.

Dylan did not squirm as the touch pressed against his soles; the application was firm enough that it did not tickle, however he still felt the need to stick his tongue out between his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut as a more intense focused arrive around his toes.

Dylan did not have to resist the urge to quick for very long - already, the masseuse had started to massage his calves and thighs, rubbing the oil into his ass cheeks and lower spine, the shimmering coat of ooze now decorating the entirety of his back and shoulders.

Dylan moaned a little, the oil causing every thumb glide, every press of the masseuse’s palm to feel that much more pleasurable as the masseuse’s hands continued to spread the oil across his body.

Such an attentive, non-tickly caress caused Dylan’s cock to thicken once again, despite him willing it not to; with it now coated in a dribble of oil, its plump shape started to throb into a stiff lay, where it eventually twitched into a full erection now shining in oil, planted out over the massage table, the tip of it glistening between his thighs.

Dylan felt a thin layer of sweat develop over his forehead as his body began to heat up - this time he refused to apologise - by now, he felt so uncertain and so unprepared by how to feel or what to guess, that he decided to give in entirely and allow the masseuse to continue to work him over, in any way he, she, they thought would work best - and what they thought would work best, was working, due to the results at hand - by now, almost all of Dylan’s aches and pains had been taken away entirely.

Dylan’s jaw stretched open as he felt more oil drizzle down over his erection; so much was applied that a small puddle formed around it, another slashing landing over his buttocks and balls, the hands of the masseuse returning to massage each ass cheek firmly.

“Mnn—” Dylan thought he was pretty solid, but as the masseuse rubbed each cheek, he felt his cock thicken into an even stiffer stretch, to such an extent that Dylan began to worry how obvious it must look from the masseuse’s perspective, “—Mnn, uuh, is the uh, the t, towel …” Dylan gave up trying to control various elements of the session; tickling would take place, he would get hard, the towel looked like it would remain on the floor - the more he understood he had no play in getting what he wanted, beside the removal of his muscular discomfort, the more he leant into this one of a kind massage.

Dylan groaned as he felt the masseuse journey their grip down his right leg, where it curled around his right ankle.

“—Oh,” Dylan shaped an O with his lips as he felt the masseuse lift his right leg upward and away from the massage table.

“—Mnn?” Dylan frowned as he felt the masseuse take his ankle in a firm and secure arm lock.

“—Oh no—” he pressed his forehead against the massage table, smacking it against the leather padding in a frustrated bounce as the masseuse drew a gentle line with their index finger, down the bottom of his right foot, causing Dylan to kick his leg and clench his fists, “—Mnn, not my feet—” Dylan splayed his toes and kicked his leg again, one finger becoming two as both dragged over his arch, “—I swear you’re doing this on purpose!—” he giggled, his ass cheeks clapping as two fingers became three, their drag now circling the base of his toes, “—My feet are the worst!—” he declared, always knowing that he as a person had been highly ticklish since he could remember, all over his body, but his feet were the spot to always get him screaming, “—A, a, anywhere but there, okay?—” three fingers became four, their scribble now journeying from toe to heel, heel to toe, rather relentless, taking Dylan by surprise as he kicked his legs and erupted into a gigantic explosion of laughter and shouts, the sole of his right foot mercilessly tickled in a way unlike any he had ever experienced, “—Oh! Oh! Ohahahah! Ahahahaha! Ahahahaha! Stop! Aahahaha! Ahahahah! Ahahaha! Please! Ahahahaha! Ahahaha! I can’t take it!—”

As Dylan howled into the massage table, his body wriggled and squirmed across the leather padding, causing his oil soaked erection to rub against the surface of the table; the table wobbled and creaked, its legs squeaking as Dylan bounced his waist in an up and down motion, his erection refusing to die down thanks to how much oil coated its shape, as well as the tables surface - grinding his hips in such a way caused his erection to be massaged without anyone touching it, as it slide up and down the wet leather, it’s solid structure constantly rubbing with such force that Dylan had started to acknowledge a mesmerising yet startling bubble of joy at the base of his balls.

“Mnn! Mnn! Mnn? Mnn—” Dylan chewed his lower lip in focus as he forced himself not to cum, the rub of his cock against the oily leather pushing his orgasm closer and closer, his foot still victim to the masseuses fingernails as they scribbled, drew, dragged and wrote all over the sole of his foot, “Mnn! Ahh! Ahahaha! Ahahaha! Ahahaha! Please! Aahaha! Ahahaha! Ahahaha! Stop! Ahahaha! Ahahaha! Quit it! Ahahaha! Ahahaha!—” Dylan laughed with such vigour that he became short of breath, layers of perspiration now mixing in with the oil soaking his body, his flesh and muscles shimmering as his abs tightened up and his ass cheeks clenched, his left leg kicking and kicking and kicking, purposefully away from the masseuse so as not to hurt him, her, they! Whoever they might be! Until, unfortunately for Dylan, his kick sliced right though the armlock, unintentionally giving both of his feet to the masseuse, who tightened their grip around now both of Dylan’s ankles, “—Agh! Oh no! Please, wait, hold on a second!—” where they actioned a dire scribble over both soles at once, “—Aaaaaaagh! Aaaaaagh! Aghhh!—” Dylan held onto the edges of the massage table as he screamed into its surface, his heaves flustered and his throat thick with pleasure, his cock still rubbing, sliding and pressing against the oil soaked padded leather that made up the massage table, causing Dylan to vocalise his alarm as his erection started to twitch and throb …

“—Hey! Hey! Seriously! Stop, I’m, I’m gonna blow! I can’t take it anymore!” He announced in a grainy shout, “I’m, I’m gonna blow!”

Suddenly, the tickling stopped and Dylan found himself glaring into the massage table with determined focus as he willed the orgasm back into his tummy, his cock flexing and stretching, ready to expel, his lungs burning, the sides of his head tight and wet, “Oh, oh my god—” Dylan jumped and twisted as the masseuse grappled his legs, their touch grabbing at his sides and arms until Dylan realised he was now being escorted off of the table and onto his feet, his oiled soles causing him to slip a little as his toes made impact with the ground, “—Wait, what, are we, are we done?—” Dylan, more confused than ever, found himself perched against the edge of the table, his ass cheeks cupping the surface, his body standing on tip toes as he finally lifted his head to face his masseuse.

Dylan’s masseuse stood inches opposite him, his hands placed firmly over both of Dylan’s shoulders.

Huff, huff, huff …

Dylan gawped in shock as he took in the masseuses toned, bare, tattooed upper body, his pin shaped nipples, the chains around his neck, the trail of hair gathered at his navel, down to his Calvin Klein underwear waist band …

Dylan’s brown eyes shifted up to his masseuses face, a face concealed by a black woollen balaclava - behind the thick material clinging to his jaw, cheek bones, head of hair and neck were a set of brown eyes, eyes that Dylan would recognise anywhere, mostly because they belonged to one of the most famous people on the planet.

“Jus, Justin?” Dylan blinked, his cock still twitching as it bobbed from side to side, its thick stance swaying from left to right until Justin himself held onto it, keeping it in place.

“Call me Clown …” Justin ordered, his right hand tightening its hold around Dylan’s cock, his left hand leaving Dylan’s shoulder to point at the red nose pinned to the middle of his face, as Dylan sat back against the edge of the table, his ass cheeks firmly planted over the leather.

Dylan, bewildered and short of breath, glanced down at his cock as he watched Justin rub it; he felt hypnotised, under a spell, unable to compartmentalise how something he thought would be as simple as a standard massage could transform into this other worldly experience …

His mouth parted as his thick eyebrows burrowed into a concerned frown, his blurry gaze unsure where to look next - one second he was taking in Justin’s appearance, the next he was looking down past his own waist at the sight of his cock being massaged at a speedy rate by The Bieber Himself, the person who had been tickling him and massaging him for the best part of half an hour, his identity concealed up till now …

“Mnn, mnn!” Dylan gasped in shock as he felt his orgasm arrive, “—I’m, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cuh, cuh, cuh—”, his eyes narrowing into Justin’s as goosebumps erupted over the sides of his neck, his cock shooting out creamy lengths of cum without any further hesitation, “—MNN FUCK!—”, Dylan arched his back and sprung even higher onto tip toes, his ass leaving the edge of the massage table, his cock still in Justin’s hand as his orgasm splattered over Justin’s bare abs and stomach, “—Oh, oh fuck—”, Dylan growled, his feet planting out flat across the floor, his body dropping into Justin, who caught his ticklee in a comforting hug.

Dylan chuckled into Justin’s chest as Justin laid out cum stained hands over Dylan’s back.

“A sensory experience …” Justin grinned behind his balaclava.

“… One I’ll never forget,” Dylan muttered breathlessly into Justin’s tattoos.

Justin could feel the warmth from Dylan’s breath as it huffed and panted against his skin.

“Ready for the next stage?” Justin asked.

Dylan, completely consumed by a situation and feeling he had never endured before in his twenty seven years of living, could do nothing but simply nod.