The following two parts of ‘Orlando’s Awakening’ are strongly connected to The Joshua’s Worship Trilogy.
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S O M E T I M E A G O . . .
Joshua stumbled into his dressing room, a giant wave of screaming fans, flashing lights and uncontrollable fame forcing its way in behind him until he closed it all away by slamming the door shut.
SLAM!
Huff …
Huff …
Huff …
Their chants, cries and calls, once deafening and extreme, now became muffled and silenced as Joshua closed his eyes, placed his forehead against the surface of the door and started to laugh to himself …
He stood shirtless, his toned, golden torso glistening with perspiration, his breathlessness evidential thanks to how quickly his stomach lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped …
He grinned, placing both palms against the door; the scent of his own body odour leaving his armpits where it invaded his nostrils, its aroma so strong he could almost taste it …
He wore a pair of black skinny jeans and dirty white Converse.
A few moments ago, a tight black vest had covered his upper body …
That vest now lay on the stage two floors above, ripped into pieces, discarded and torn away from his flesh by his own two hands …
The screams were so loud that Joshua still felt ringing in his ears.
Curls of brown hair littered the top half of his face; his panting began to subside, his dry lips started to moisten up, his trembling decreased, however his heartbeat remained fiercely paced, thanks to the presence seated behind him.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” Joshua mumbled quietly, his eyes still closed, his face still pressed against the closed dressing room door.
The shuffling of fan footsteps and teenage girl chaos remained present on the other side of the door as Joshua kept his shimmering, long back faced towards the person perched on the same armchair he himself had been seated in three hours ago during hair and make up.
“You actually did it,” Peter said.
Joshua peeled his eyes open.
Slowly, he turned around to face his tickler.
Peter sat with one leg crossed over the other knee; he wore stone chinos, leather loafers, a tight navy shirt tucked into his trousers …
His hair looked blonder than usual, as if he had tanned whilst on vacation; his blue eyes sparkled, his smirk lifting into a satisfied smile, his iPhone held tightly in his right hand.
Joshua swallowed down the need to hurl himself at Peter.
Instead of throwing himself at the man, he took careful steps forward, the bulbs around the dressing room mirror lighting his torso magnificently.
“I didn’t rip it off because you asked,” Joshua thumbed his chest, “I did it because I wanted to.”
Peter glanced down at his iPhone.
“You’re telling me, if I didn’t text you suggesting such a thing, you would’ve thought to do it all by yourself?”
Joshua eyebrows flattened as he looked down at his feet.
“It’s the first I’ve heard from you in months …” Joshua scratched the back of his head, unintentionally exposing the beauty of his right underarm, “ … Where have you been?”
Peter purposefully ignored Joshua’s question.
“Five thousand should now be in your bank account. I’m serious when I say I pay well for committing to such a public act, something you only did for me.”
Joshua kept his head lowered.
“I didn’t do it for—” Joshua squeezed his eyes shut, “—Man, you’re crazy. Paying that amount just so I’d tear my vest off on st—”
“—I’m crazy about you,” Peter declared, “Haven’t I made that clear already? During the times I’ve bound you, toyed with you, made you giggle so hard you didn’t need to work out for weeks—”
“—Oh,” Joshua lifted his face so he caught Peter’s eyes in a direct stare, “So, making it clear was, I don’t know, ignoring all my messages? My calls? My kn—” Joshua pinched his lips and decided to go for it, to ask the question he’d been wanting to ask for the past few weeks, “—Have you moved out of your apartment?”
Peter pocketed his iPhone.
“Why? Have you resorted to physically knocking on my own front door?”
Joshua hated how Peter turned the tables so quickly; he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, focusing on keeping his cool, not wanting to break this quickly …
How does he do it? Joshua thought.
He hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m ready to burst.
“I don’t want your money,” Joshua decided, folding his arms across his bare chest, “I want to do this with you all the time. No transactions, no mind games, no quiet phases, no ignoring me. Just us, us and … All the things you wanna do,” he cleared his throat, his eyes darting around his dressing room, landing anywhere but on Peter, “To … To me.”
Peter stood slowly from the armchair.
He extended his right hand.
Joshua looked down at Peter’s open palm.
He remained still, still standing in the same place, his arms still adamantly folded across his chest, his nipples still hardening …
“What you want is possible, but … ” Peter kept his palm facing upward, “ … You’re gonna have to work for it …”
Joshua unfolded his arms.
Instead of taking Peter’s hand like Peter expected, Joshua stepped aside and created a clear pathway for his tickler.
“Get out.”
Peter remained calm, his handsome features still angled towards his lee.
A beat of silence landed between them before Joshua repeated himself.
“… Get out …” he growled, with a tilt of his head.
Peter dropped his head over his chest, placing both hands into his chino pockets.
He began to walk towards the dressing room door.
As he reached Joshua’s side, he paused and slowly turned to face him.
“I know you can’t stop thinking about what we have,” Peter spoke in a grainy whisper, “I feel it too. I could see it earlier. The way you clawed onto the material, the strength in how hard you ripped it off of your body, the lack of hesitation … All because I wanted it. All because I told you to. All because, all you want, is to be mine…”
Peter’s hands slid out of his pockets, they grabbed Joshua’s arms, they spun him around on the spot …
“Wait, what are you—”
Joshua’s mouth was cupped by Peter’s right hand, his left hand snatching both of Joshua’s wrists behind his back.
“—MPHH—”
Peter then expertly dragged Joshua over to the empty armchair where he forced him down onto the cushioned seat with a heavy bounce.
He took his hand away from Joshua’s mouth and then used both hands to grab Joshua’s wrists, positioning himself behind the armchair.
He slowly lifted Joshua’s arms above his head, revealing his furry armpits, his sides stretching out as his torso was displayed, without any prior discussion.
Joshua let some air leave his mouth as he struggled within Peter’s grasp, his teeth hooking down over his lower lip, his heartbeat now racing so hard that it thumped violently beneath his chest.
“… Submit to me,” Peter tightened his hold over Joshua’s wrists, yanking them further upward, the twenty two year olds forearms now squashed around either sides of his head.
This time, Joshua didn’t hesitate, not because he didn’t want to, quite simply because he couldn’t …
“What do, what do I have to do?” Joshua wished he hadn’t asked his question with such a tremble to his voice.
Peter allowed Joshua to relax.
“Keep your arms above your head,” Peter whispered, “Can you do that for me?”
Joshua nodded quickly.
Peter slowly let go of Joshua’s wrists.
He walked around the armchair and then knelt down beside Joshua, placing one hand on Joshua’s left knee whilst his other hand journeyed towards Joshua’s left underarm.
Peter’s fingertips made contact with Joshua’s armpit hair, their strength travelling through the thick curls until they landed gently against the moist, warm flesh that made up the depths of Joshua’s pit.
Joshua slowly turned his head down towards his left underarm.
“Don’t. You. Dare …” he warned his tickler.
Peter smirked.
Peter took his hand away from Joshua’s armpit and then placed both hands on Joshua’s knees.
He then moved into Joshua’s left underarm, his lips pressing against the young mans armpit hair.
Joshua winced as he forced his arms above his head, glaring up into the dressing room ceiling as Peter began to whisper his demands into one of Joshua’s most ticklish spots.
The pop star closed his eyes, goosebumps now exploding over his throat where they travelled in a fierce stampede down his abs, all the way towards his hips where they collided with the waistband of the underwear poking out of his jeans …
He listened carefully, his own name now being chanted by the fans outside of his dressing room door, fans that his security team had started to politely escort out of the building …
Peter finished his whispered explanation by kissing Joshua’s armpit gently.
He then got to his feet, taking a few steps back, his hands pressing the air in front of him downward, suggesting to Joshua that he could now lower his arms.
“Just one day, that’s all I ask,” Peter smiled, “And it could all be yours.”
Joshua gulped down the frog in his throat as he gradually dropped his arms back into his lap.
He didn’t care that his erection could be seen in a solid shape beneath his jeans.
He wasn’t bothered about the pin-like point of his nipples, or how much his eyes were watering, or how desperately he wanted Peter to strip him where he sat, handcuff him to this very armchair, invade his pits with all ten of his fingers until he lost his mind …
All he cared about was standing two feet away from him, in the form of a six foot height, blonde thirty five year old.
Joshua curled his fists into balls.
He nodded once.
And then he said,
“I’ll do anything.”
J O S H U A B A S S E T T 🤝🏼 J O H N N Y O R L A N D O
Johnny blinked repeatedly until his vision stopped blurring, as soon as the grey sack was swiftly yanked away from his head …
“Mpph …
Mphh …
Mphh …”
A line of drool drooped from the corner of his lower lip, his teeth and tongue adjusting themselves around the shiny ball gag that had been wedged into his mouth.
He knelt over the carpet, barefoot and in only a pair of Tommy Hilfiger white briefs and a black t-shirt, his hands tied behind his back …
Johnny took in his surroundings; a king size bed in front of him, a modern painting hanging above it, a floor to ceiling window over to the left looking out into a sunny Los Angeles, a tripod with a camera attached to the top … A reasonably sized hotel room, to say the least …
Beside him knelt another young man, his head covered by a grey sack also.
Johnny’s eyes travelled over the stranger who also knelt barefoot, in his underwear, wearing only a t-shirt and over-shirt rolled up to the elbow …
The Masked Tickler grabbed the top of the sack and yanked it away from the stranger’s head, revealing Joshua Bassett.
Johnny gasped so hard he nearly sucked the gag through his throat.
Joshua did exactly the same as Johnny; he blinked non stop, his eyes narrowing in focus as they took in his surroundings, a long line of drool also leaving his lower lip thanks to a ball gag that had also been stuffed deep within his mouth.
“Mpph …
Mphh …
Mphh …”
The two young pop stars mirrored each other in their knelt position; their circumstance exactly the same, the future ahead of them uncertain, the results at the end of this session oh so very different in their entirety.
Johnny felt nerves overwhelm him; he hadn’t expected to be tickled with someone famous, someone like Joshua Bassett, a guy he had been a fan of since the first season of High School Musical … A person who’s music he had listened to on a regular basis, in an attempt to better himself, to improve himself, to be the more liked pop star out of the two …
Someone who was already pitted against him in the music industry …
And now like this? In this way? In this hotel room?
Why doesn’t he seem as nervous as me? Johnny thought, swallowing down a gathering amount of saliva at the back of his throat.
Joshua, despite having such a large ball of plastic stuffed between his lips, still tried smiling at Johnny, his eyebrows creased, his shoulders lifting …
Johnny smiled back, his ball gag also preventing any other expression other than discomfort.
The Masked Tickler took a seat in an armchair that had been positioned in the corner of the hotel room.
He sat upright, his hands planting down perfectly over the end of each arm of the chair, his masked face staring forwards, the hood of his jacket covering the tops and sides of his head.
The hotel room door clicked open.
Peter stepped inside the room.
As the door slowly swung shut behind him, Peter walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down at the bottom, facing the two knelt ticklee’s before him.
“Well,” Peter adjusted the collar of his shirt, “Is it hot in here because of the L.A weather, or because I’m seated in front of the Johnny Orlando and the Joshua Bassett, bare foot, bound, gagged and dribbling on their knees …” Peter shot blue eyes over to The Masked Tickler, grinning at his colleagues expressionless, plastic covering, “… We’re two very lucky bastards, you know that, right?”
The Masked Tickler remained statuesque and still.
Johnny was the first to ask questions, his words stifled thanks to the gag in his mouth.
“Mphh! Mphh, mnnphh, mnph, — mph — mph?— mnphhh? Mph! Mphh? Mpmm, mmnn, mphhh—”
Joshua remained silent, breathing fiercely through his nose, his eyes never leaving Peter.
Peter placed an index finger over his own lips.
“Shhhh, shhhh,” he hushed Johnny quiet, “I can barely understand a word you’re saying, kid. Take a leaf outta Joshua’s book and just, ya know, sit there and listen, for a damn second. We’ve only got one day and I don’t wanna waste time with muffles and moans … You got it?”
Johnny nodded slowly, another line of drool leaving his ball gag where it drooped into his lap.
“Now, as I’ve discussed with you both individually, and as per the details in the contracts and documents you’ve both signed, today is a day of tests … A good friend of mine would describe them as ‘trials’, but I uhh, I think that sounds a little, I don’t know, pretentious …” Peter leant forward, resting his elbows over his knees, entwining his fingers together, “It’s pretty simple; I’m going to get you both to perform a set of challenges. The winner of each challenge wins a prize, the looser gets punished. At the end of the day, the private audience viewing the content we’re filming right now will decide who did the best, who deserves the ultimate reward, the golden trophy …” Peter couldn’t help but offer The Masked Tickler a knowing wink, “… Or, the golden ticket, shall we say …”
Johnny and Joshua, still struggling with their ball gags, remained silent and listening in their knelt position; Peter’s description of the session ahead so clear, simple and well explained that no attempt to ask further questions through their ball gags was required.
“… Is that understood?” Peter asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Both Johnny and Joshua nodded in unison as The Masked Tickler peeled his leather clad uniformed body away from the armchair.
“Fantastic,” Peter clapped his palms together, just once, “Now, let’s get those gags off and see just how much you really love to suffer …”
The Masked Tickler removed Joshua’s ball gag first, allowing him to lick his lips and swallow down some dribble.
Joshua turned to Johnny, his ability to now smile properly presenting itself in a hearty grin.
“Before we start I uh,” Joshua looked Johnny in the eye, “I just wanted to say, good luck.”
Johnny winced as The Masked Tickler removed his ball gag next, a little more forcefully than he had done with Joshua’s.
He licked his lips also, swallowing down saliva before readying himself to speak.
“Th, thanks, Bassett. Hey, it’s uh, it’s nice to meet you.”
Joshua nodded, a genuine smile lifting his lips as a comfortable vibe arrived between both ticklees.
“You too, man.”
Johnny and Joshua then got to their feet as Peter stepped away from the corner of the bed.
“Cute,” Peter smirked, turning to The Masked Tickler, “I bet five hundred dollars that level of politeness lasts less than fifteen minutes …”
The Masked Tickler chuckled behind his mask as Peter got both Johnny Orlando and Joshua Bassett into position.
T E S T O N E : ‘ U N C L E ‘
Peter adjusted the camera as The Masked Tickler returned to his seat.
From where he sat, he had the perfect view of Johnny’s bare soles as Johnny knelt down over the bottom left corner of the king sized mattress.
Over at the top right corner of the bed, Joshua knelt in the same position.
The restraints had been detached, but the cuffs still remained on each of their wrists, leaving both boys fully able to move around untied.
“So,” Joshua, as kind as he was awkward, decided to make small talk with his counterpart, “What’s in this for you?” He asked Johnny.
Johnny went to answer but then pressed his lips shut, shifting his eyes over at Peter.
“Am I allowed to tell him?”
Peter hit the record button.
“You most certainly aren’t,” he then looked towards Joshua, “And you must keep your potential prize at the end of all this to yourself as well, got it? And, maybe not so much with the conversa—”
—Joshua nodded, his gaze never leaving Johnny.
“Got it. Hey, Orlando,” Joshua couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eyes as he shut down Peter’s authority, “Isn’t this wild? Hanging this way? I always knew I’d get to meet you in person eventually, but I’d never imagined it would’ve been like this—”
“—Man, tell me about it!” Johnny chuckled, shaking his head, “It’s so insane. Like, can you imagine if Harry Styles is into this kinda shit too? Wouldn’t it be so cool to like, get your hands on—”
“—Alright,” Peter spoke sternly, “The first test starts now. Are you both listening?”
Joshua and Johnny nodded in unison once again.
A beat of quiet filled the hotel room as Peter regained control, “Now. This test is simple. The first person to say ‘uncle’ loses,” Peter stepped away from the tripod and folded his arms, “It’s as easy as that.”
Joshua looked over Johnny’s frame; his long legs, muscular arms, narrow waist and soft looking feet, his assessment calm and detailed.
“What do I get when I win?” Joshua smirked.
Johnny raised both eyebrows, his jaw dropping.
“I’ve seen how ticklish your pits look, dude. Believe me,” Johnny grinned, “You’re screwed.”
Joshua shrugged, licking his upper lip, offering Johnny a playful wink.
“Prizes and punishments are revealed at the end of each test,” Peter announced, “With this test there is only one rule; you must remain on the bed. If someone steps foot onto the carpet, that someone immediately becomes the loser.”
Johnny peered over the corner of the mattress where he visualised the carpet as lava.
“This is so freakin’ awesome,” he squeezed his eyes shut as a bubble of excitement began to grow deep within his stomach.
Joshua took in a slow, deep breath, his mind readying himself to be fast, to dodge, to remember all the ways Peter had tickled him during their meet ups, to put those experiences to good work right here, right now.
You’ve got the upper hand, Joshua thought.
Annihilate this twink.
Peter stood at the bottom right corner of the bed, in the middle of both ticklee’s, keen to not stand too close to either or in an attempt to avoid any favouritism.
“Alright. The first test starts in three … two … o—”
"—Wait!” Johnny grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and began to lift it up his torso.
Joshua’s eyes widened as he saw a glimpse of Johnny’s toned stomach and structured abs; the creaminess of his skin, the way his hips and waist moved when he started to wriggle out of his tee …
Fuck, he’s hot, Joshua looked into the mattress.
"—No,” Peter pointed his index finger at Johnny, “Clothing remains on, for now. That’s an order.”
Johnny huffed, pulling his t-shirt back over his stomach, frustrated with how he wasn’t allowed to be shirtless like he would often be most of the time at home.
“Okay,” Peter cleared this throat, “I’ll try again. On three … Two … One …” he unfolded his arms and clicked his fingers, “… Go!”
Johnny threw himself at Joshua in a cat like pounce, successfully landing over him with all of his muscular body weight.
Joshua grabbed hold of Johnny’s arms and used the momentum to spin him around, planting him down on his back where he quickly shuffled over his waist, straddling him within seconds.
“Holy shit!” Johnny, overwhelmed by Joshua’s techniques, arched his back and thrusted his hips upward in an attempt to buck Joshua off of him, but Joshua’s fingers were already making their way up and down Johnny’s sides where they pinched, poked and danced across his ribcage.
Johnny began to giggle, curling himself up into a ball as tried to hide his torso with his elbows and arms, smacking Joshua away with his hands, now laughing loudly as Joshua’s fingers made their way towards his underarms.
One more strong thrust of the hips and Joshua was thrown off of Johnny’s waist, allowing just enough time for Johnny to roll over and scramble straight down to Joshua’s feet, where he planted his chest over Joshua’s ankles and gathered his feet together in an armlock.
The Masked Tickler watched in silence, seated in the armchair, a growing girth stiffening beneath his trousers as he watched both young men tussle before him.
Johnny began to scratch at Joshua’s soles, sending Joshua into a wild and erratic buck and spin, his body bouncing and sliding over the bed sheets as he howled out laughter, his legs kicking and squirming beneath Johnny’s weight.
“—Wait! Johnny, damnit! Not my, not my fee—” Joshua’s words were pushed aside by breathless giggles, his brain quickly reminding him that the only way to get loose is to fight just as hard.
With Johnny down by Joshua’s feet, this meant Joshua was down by Johnny’s feet also, both boys in a top and tail position …
Johnny shrieked as he felt Joshua’s hands start to grab at his own ankles in an attempt to snatch them closer towards him; his feet now kicking wildly so that Joshua could never fully get a grip.
Johnny bit his upper lip and scratched his fingernails over Joshua’s soles, journeying them from heel to toe where he discovered some silky soft flesh just under Joshua’s pinkies.
Joshua’s feet were tickled so hard he now couldn’t focus on catching Johnny’s ankles; instead, he flayed about over the mattress and shouted out his hysteria, his eyes wide open, his curls of hair now messy and un-styled, “Agh! Stop, Orlando, holy sh— oh god, you’re fucking good at this — come on, man, gimme your feet you sonova— alright, alright! — stop, stop, stop, stop!”
Joshua squeezed his eyes shut and kicked and kicked and kicked and kicked, shouting out, “STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP,” with every kick until he had free’d at least one foot from Johnny’s grasp.
Joshua then used his free foot to push into Johnny’s back, forcing him off of him entirely until Johnny was a giggling ball at the other corner of the bed.
With no hesitation between them, Johnny and Joshua threw themselves into each other, growling like playful puppies as they did so.
Peter paced the hotel room silently, observing his two favourite ticklers during their wrestle; their hands snatched together, their fingers locking, their intense stare fixed together in the heat of the moment, a thin layer of sweat developing over each of their foreheads …
Johnny had stronger upper body strength than Joshua, meaning he was able to force him towards the edge of the bed by pushing all of his weight into Joshua’s.
Joshua’s eyes widened as he felt his knees slide across the sheets, his feet hooking over the edge of the mattress; if Johnny pushed any harder, Joshua would fall off the bed and land on the carpet with a thud, officially confirming him as loser of the first test …
“Grraaaaaaghhhhhhhh!” Joshua yanked his right hand free from Johnny’s left …
He then sent it directly into Johnny’s right underarm, the rigid strength of all five of his fingertips burrowing deeply into the hairy delve that made up Johnny’s right pit.
“AGH!” Johnny gasped, his entire body twisting in on itself, his right hand yanking itself free from Joshua’s left as it went down to cover his pit in an attempt to protect it from Joshua’s attacks.
Joshua moved Johnny around like a puppet; he poked and dug his fingers into Johnny’s sides, stomach and chest, never once staying in one place for longer than a second or two, always jibbing and jabbing unexpectedly in various areas, causing Johnny to jolt, jerk, twitch and yelp as if his body were held up by lengths of string.
“Agh!” jab “No!” jab “Stop!” jab “Bassett!” jab “Quit it!”
—jab jab jab jab jab jab jab jab —
Joshua successfully ‘jabbed’ Johnny further into the centre of the bed, therefore allowing himself to shuffle away from the edge.
“—BASSETT!” Johnny lost his cool, throwing his arms around Joshua in a giant bear hug, hurling him down over the mattress where both boys bounced over the sheets until Johnny had successfully wrapped both arms tightly around Joshua’s torso, trapping Joshua’s arms tightly by his sides, Johnny’s hands grabbing, his fingers wiggling all over Joshua’s ribcage.
Joshua giggled and screamed so hard his eyes began to water, his mouth splaying open, his feet and legs kicking out into the air so fast that their shape blurred from the motion …
He tried to wriggle out of Johnny’s bear hug but the twenty year old was too strong; his arms were more muscular than Joshua’s, his shape sturdy, his height short but not so small you’d underestimate it …
Overall, Johnny had more vigour than Joshua and it had started to show, by how hard and relentless Johnny had captured Joshua in the bear hug, his tickling across Joshua’s sides so ruthless and merciless it became clear to Peter that Joshua might say the word ‘uncle’ sooner than he thought …
“Come on you little bitch!” Johnny chuckled into Joshua’s shoulder as he continued to tickle him in the bear hug, “Say it, Bassett! You know you want to! I got you, man! I got you owned, dude!”
Joshua found himself mouthing the start of ‘uncle’, his sides tickled too hard, his mind tricking him into thinking Johnny would never break the bear hug, that this would never stop, that the sensory overload numbing his brain would go on forever …
Joshua felt the lunacy overshadow his anxieties, his worry, his concern over he and Peter …
Just like it had done before; the tickling made him feel better, the laughing transformed the darkness into light, it took the weight off his shoulders …
The physical hell, the agonising push, the breathlessness and the panting all worked in Joshua’s favour; it benefited him mentally, to the point where he could endure another few minutes of Johnny’s attacks, enough time for him to wriggle within Johnny’s bear hug and twist around so that they now lay face to face, Johnny’s nose pressing against Joshua’s nose, Johnny’s strands of hair mixing with Joshua’s curls …
“You ev, ever had a—” Joshua grunted between the giggling, “—a, a number one hit, Orlando?”
Johnny’s sadistic grin dropped as soon as Joshua highlighted the fact Johnny had never had a number one single; his heart sinking, the strength of his bear hug lessening, his guard dropping for just a moment …
Joshua’s arms, still pinned to his sides thanks to Johnny’s bear hug, were able to move a little closer around Johnny’s waist where his fingers began to dig into the Canadian singers hips and stomach, causing Johnny to yelp and hiss into Joshua’s face, some spit landing over Joshua’s lips from Johnny’s mouth.
Joshua squeezed his eyes shut and continued his attacks, tickling Johnny’s stomach so hard that Johnny had no choice but to break the bear hug and use his hands to reach down to the bottom of his torso where he tried to block Joshua’s grabbing fingers.
Now out of the bear hug, Joshua was able to try out a body part of Johnny’s he had yet to explore.
Joshua scrambled speedily down to Johnny’s feet as Johnny landed on his stomach, catching his breath, wheezing and coughing into the pillows …
Joshua climbed onto Johnny’s butt and turned his back to him, resting his weight over Johnny where he reached forwards and grabbed both of Johnny’s ankles.
Joshua then gathered Johnny’s feet around his chest and, in the knelt position over Johnny’s ass, Joshua began to scratch and tickle both of Johnny’s soles at the same time.
Johnny, laid out on his front, could do nothing but scream, laugh, pant and shout, his clawed hands stretching forwards where they grabbed onto nothing, his face creased up into a deranged distort made up of sweaty desperation and uncontrollable lunacy.
Joshua produced a large amount of saliva between his lips and expelled it slowly from his mouth, allowing the thick line of drool to droop down and land over Johnny’s squirming soles.
Peter raised his eyebrows, impressed by how Joshua had thought to create his own lubrication … A method maybe Johnny wouldn’t of thought of, due to his lack of experience.
Joshua tickled the dribble into Johnny’s soles, allowing his own fingernails to slide and glide over the now wet expanse of hyper ticklish flesh.
Johnny cackled and howled into the bedsheets, his arms and hands reaching behind him where they tried to grab and tickle Joshua’s soles, which were currently planted either side of his waist.
Joshua winced as he endured the feeling of Johnny’s fingers as they landed over the bottoms of his feet, but the touch was only momentarily and actioned with panic, never staying long enough for Joshua to feel the need to kick or jump out of the way.
Johnny became blinded by hysteria when Joshua landed on his toes, his fingernails violating their betweens, his attacks landing on Johnny’s second to last toe, a spot that made any violent reaction impossible to hide.
Joshua cheered, “RIDE ‘EM COWBOY!” As Johnny bucked and bounced around like a fish out of water, his extreme physical response informing Joshua that he had struck gold with this small space of flesh between Johnny’s second to last toe.
“You got him, kid …” Peter smirked, raising his voice as Johnny’s laughter became so loud it filled the room entirely, “… That’s my boy …”
“Who’s the little bitch now, huh, Orlando?” Joshua continued to violate Johnny’s second to last toe, “Come on! Say it, you little b—”
Johnny didn’t give in that easily, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at Joshua where it smacked against his shoulders and bounced off his body, landing over the small wooden table, knocking coffee cups and spoons onto the floor whey they littered the carpet.
Joshua took things to another level, his mind telling him to just do it, to put as much of what he had learned with Peter into play, in an attempt to win this test …
So he closed his eyes and leaned into Johnny’s right foot, taking his second to last toe in his mouth where he sucked on it furiously, tickling the silky ticklish digit with his tongue and teeth in a slurpish, torturous nibble, all whilst tickling the second to last toe of Johnny’s left foot at the same time …
Johnny became a rampant mess over the bed sheets, his body twisting and thrashing in various directions all at once, his laughter now completely replaced with panicked grunts and breathless huffs, his body going into alarm mode as both toes were tickled with Joshua’s fingers and tongue …
Johnny grabbed at Joshua’s shirt, he tried to pull it away from his body, his fingers clawing at skin, Joshua’s waistband, the curls over his head until Johnny decided he couldn’t take it any longer, screaming out the word—
“—UUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNCLE! Oh my god oh my god oh my god UNCLE—”
Johnny punched the mattress so hard the pillows had started to fall to the floor, “UNCLE, UNCLE, UNCLE!”
Joshua let Johnny’s feet go, the toe popping out of his mouth, his body falling to his side where it landed on the bed with a bounce, his mouth sighing out exhaustion, his eyelids falling shut …
Johnny’s legs dropped to the mattress as he lay there on his stomach, panting, puffing, huffing into the now creased up bed sheets.
“Holy fuck …” he whispered, licking his lips, “… Holy, holy fuck …” his blurry vision took in The Masked Tickler, who sat there with a bulge in his trousers, otherwise not moving, not speaking, not responding, “… H, h, holy fuck …” Johnny repeated.
Both boys lay on the bed, breathless and silent as Peter and The Masked Tickler applauded them with gentle clapping.
Joshua raised both hands, pointing to the hotel room ceiling.
“I am the tickler extraordinaire!” He announced, cheering himself by curling his fists into balls, pumping the air triumphantly, “Don’t mess with me, mother fuckers!”
Johnny chuckled, running both hands through his hair as he shuffled into the knelt position.
He sat cross legged, looking down at Joshua who lay on his back, his over shirt and tee clinging to his slim body, his underwear a little caught up around his balls.
“I can see your dick, Bassett,” Johnny poked at Joshua’s side with his index finger.
Joshua jolted, his cheeks flushing pink, his entire body rolling away from Johnny so that he could readjust himself.
“… Fuck …”
Peter hid laughter from the back of his hand, entertained by both boys and their banter, banter which had remained surprisingly playful considering what was at stake for both ticklees.
“Congratulations, Joshua. You are the winner,” Peter officially declared, “That means Joshua gets a break and a prize, whilst Johnny has to endure a punishment …” Peter offered Joshua his hand, “… You wanna know what you’ve won?”
Joshua, now grinning with excitement, took Peter’s hand as Peter helped him off the bed, “Yes sir!”
Peter allowed Joshua to gather his footing, his knees a little wobbly after all the wrestling.
“You get a choice,” Peter announced.
Joshua dusted himself off as he turned to face Peter.
“A choice?”
Peter nodded.
“You get to choose the tools I tickle Johnny’s feet with, and the spot that should be the focus.”
Joshua’s excited expression suddenly dropped like a sack of potatoes.
“Wa, wait … You’re … You’re tickling him? I, I thought maybe I would be the one to—”
Peter shook his head slowly.
He placed a reassuring hand over Joshua’s right shoulder.
“It’s just tickling, kid,” Peter stepped closer towards Joshua, “You’re still my number one. Don’t let the jealousy throw you off course.”
Joshua pressed his lips together and twisted his face away from Peter.
Johnny sat in silence, awkwardly thumbing the bottom of his lip as he watched Peter and Joshua handle their moment.
Joshua inhaled through flared nostrils.
He forced himself into the role of someone who was comfortable with this next step of the session, even if he did feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “What tools do I have to choose from?”
Peter stepped away from Joshua.
The Masked Tickler took the ball gag and carefully reattached it to Joshua’s mouth.
Joshua’s eyes bulged as the large plastic shape pressed between his lips and stuffed itself into the back of his throat.
The Masked Tickler then took Joshua’s hands and pinned them at the bottom of his spine, re-cuffing them behind his back.
As The Masked Tickler escorted Joshua out of the room, Johnny laid back down over the bed and looked up at the hotel room ceiling, where he wondered if joining in with Peter and Joshua was a good idea after all …
Joshua found himself back on his knees, only this time he knelt in a hotel room next door to the one he had just wrestled Johnny in.
The Masked Tickler removed his ball gag, allowing a line of dribble attached to the plastic to droop away from Joshua’s lower lip.
Joshua rubbed away the saliva by pressing his mouth into the shoulder of his shirt.
“You guys are somethin’ else …” he muttered to himself, “… Take off the mask, man, it’s freaking me out …”
The Masked Tickler pocketed the gag as Peter knelt down in front of Joshua.
“So, what will it be?” He asked, “You can pick anything, anything you want.”
Joshua lowered his head as he wriggled his wrists between the restraints tying his hands behind his back.
“Peter, man, I, I don’t like this,” Joshua admitted, “I, I thought it would just be Johnny and I doing the—” he huffed, “—Or, I thought you’d wanna tickle me at least, or, or, or—”
"—So,” Peter repeated, the deep and demanding tone to his voice reminding Joshua they only had one day, at that this day would be different to the other times they had met before, “What will it be?”
Joshua smirked, rolling his eyes, gradually understanding as the minutes went by that, unlike his previous experiences with Peter, where Peter had been charming, polite, even sexy … Right now, in this very moment, Peter was a tickler, and a tickler only.
“Baby oil,” Joshua decided, “A tonne of it,” that excitement he beheld after winning the wrestle returned, “Use a feather, not the soft part, the uh, the sharp, pointy end, on his —”
“—Second to last toe?” Peter smiled.
Joshua nodded.
“Tie his toes back, too,” Peter’s ticklee suggested, “That’ll really set him off. You can tell he thinks he knows what to expect all the time but …” Joshua sighed in his own self realisation, “… Believe me, he doesn’t.”
Peter got back to his feet.
“Consider it done,” he then began to head towards the hotel room door, The Masked Tickler removing the glove of his right hand, “I’ll come collect you at the end of Johnny’s test. I’ll let you know the outcome …”
Joshua eyed The Masked Tickler, who crouched down behind Joshua and began to stroke the space of flesh between his left ear and left collarbone.
“Hey, wait, you’re, you’re not gonna just leave me with this—” Joshua began to giggle as The Masked Tickler toyed with his neck, “—Hey! Not there, man, come on! Leave me alone, give me a break, you—”
“—Go easy on him, will you?” Peter eyed The Masked Tickler before leaving the room, “I don’t want to wear him out too soon …”
T E S T T W O : ‘ C H E A T ‘
Johnny winced as he tried to move his feet.
Much to Peter’s delight, they sat locked in a portable set of stocks, all eight of his toes pinned back by string …
“You must be wondering why I’ve not pinned back your little toes …” Peter stroked his chin as he looked down at Johnny, seated on the hotel bed, his hands planted behind him in a casual lean.
“Lemme guess,” Johnny ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, “He chose the bit that drives me fucking insane?”
Peter smirked as he adjusted the camera stand, the iPhone recording.
“He did,” Peter then picked up a bottle of baby oil from the side table, “The boy knows what he’s doing. You’ll eventually see, Johnny, he’s learned from the best.”
Johnny tried to curl his toes but all eight remained tightly pulled into place, only his little toes able to stretch and flex a little.
“Isn’t that a little unfair?” Johnny scratched the tip of his nose, “Pitting me against someone who has the upper hand? Someone who knows you better than I do?”
Peter uncapped the bottle of baby oil and crawled onto the bed, kneeling down by Johnny’s feet.
“You have advantages of your own,” Peter explained, “You just haven’t discovered them yet …” Peter began to draw slow circles around Johnny’s right sole with his index finger, dribbling baby oil over Johnny’s left foot, “… Do you understand what I mean?”
Johnny breathed in sharply, his right foot twitching as his left foot became drenched in shimmering, glistening liquid.
Peter increased the draw of his circle.
“Do you understand?” He repeated.
“Yes!” Johnny yelped, “I, I get it, I, I think—” his quick breathing turned into deep giggles as Peter took his index finger up and down Johnny’s right sole, now tipping the bottle of baby oil over his right foot, generously saturating it in as much liquid as his left …
“Your punishment is your next test, and it’s going to be a tricky one for you, I can tell …” Peter capped the bottle of baby oil and laid it down over the bed sheets, where he then began to firmly massage the oil into both of Johnny’s soles, sometimes scratching at the silky smooth skin every so often to get a jump out of Johnny.
Johnny jolted every time Peter’s fingernails slid across the bottoms of his feet, mid massage.
“Wait! What! What is, what’s the tes —” Johnny held a breath, “—What is it?” He panted.
Peter stared dreamily at Johnny’s soles, now so coated in baby oil that droplets left his heels and stained the sheets beneath them.
He slid off the bed and walked towards the ensuite bathroom, intentionally allowing a quiet gap between Johnny’s curiosity and the answer he would receive.
Johnny sat patiently as he heard the sound of tap water, Peter washing his hands clear of oil.
“How long has Joshua been doing this kinda stuff for?” Johnny asked his sixth question in a row, “Are there other guys?” His seventh, “Other famous people you work with?” His eighth, “Could, like, maybe I one day get the chance to—”
—Peter returned from the bathroom with a seagull feather, not allowing Johnny to finish his ninth question.
Johnny gulped.
Peter returned to the knelt position beside Johnny’s feet and then aimed the pointy part at the second to last toe of Johnny’s right foot.
Johnny clenched his teeth into a fierce grin and lifted his shoulders up to his ears.
“Ggg—-!”
Peter pressed the nib of the feather between both toes, the sharp tip resting gently over the sensitive space of flesh.
Johnny buried his face into his left shoulder.
“You must not laugh,” Peter declared, “That is the test. No laughing, for five minutes. You can shout, swear, curse, beg, moan, call me all the names under the sun … But if an ounce of joy leaves your lips … That’s it. You fail, incurring further punishment, allowing Joshua another prize.”
Johnny shook his head, his eyebrows lifting in worry.
“I can’t laugh …? You know that’s like, impossible, right? Dude, if you’re gonna hit that spot between my toes I, I swear to god, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind, man!” He blew a raspberry with his lips, “Ppppffft! Not laugh? Not laugh? Are you fucking kidding me! You might as well, like, ask me to not breathe—”
Peter increased pressure on the seagull feather, its sharpness now rubbing between Johnny’s right second to last toe as he kept an eye on the digital clock on the bedside table.
Johnny gasped, cupping his mouth with both of his hands, glaring at the feather with wide, open, unblinking eyes.
“Maybe one of your advantages is being able to achieve the impossible?” Peter suggested, “Maybe you can push through and surprise yourself. It’s either that, or you lose this test just like you did the last one …” Peter started to drag the nib up the length of Johnny’s pinned back second to last toe, “… And believe me, the big time punishment I have for you will make this moment right now seem very tame indeed …”
Johnny’s palms planted down over the mattress where he pressed the strength of his arms downward, lifting his butt away from the bedsheets, his mouth stretching open so wide that his jaw clicked.
“Man, o, okay, you, you gotta stop, dude, that, like, fucking tickles so fucking much, man, oh my god, oh my god, holy, holy ffffffffff—-” Johnny bit down on his tongue, conscious of how much he was cursing, his FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF coming out of his lips in the form of bubbling saliva, “—FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF—” he dropped his butt back over the bed and threw his back against the mattress, his torso bouncing up and down as he grinned madly, his fists curling into balls, his right foot twitching and flexing under the sharpness of the feathers nib, his shout so loud that it came from the very depths of his stomach, its strength so forceful it thickened his neck and made his eyes water, “—UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHCCCCCCCCCCK!”
Unbeknownst to Peter and Johnny, Joshua knelt only a wall away from that deafening moment of hysteria, the cry sounding into the next room so clearly that Joshua had to raise both eyebrows in surprise.
“Heck. This area really is insanely sensitive, isn’t it, Johnny?” Peter barely scratched the flesh, the draw gentle but hard enough to create chaos within Johnny’s mind, “You know something? It’s interesting to think that if it weren’t for me, if we had never walked into the MyBuddiesFeet studio, you probably would’ve gone the rest of your life not knowing how direly ticklish your second to last toes are …”
Johnny bit into his fists, throwing his torso forward, his cheeks boiling red, his skin vibrating with hysteria …
Peter shaped an O with his mouth; Johnny’s desperate expression one of the most anguished he’d seen in quite some time …
Johnny hid his face with his right arm.
“How, h-how long is left?” He asked breathlessly, his knees wobbling, the stocks shaking, his left foot now twisting and flexing underneath Peter’s free hand as it started to toy with Johnny’s left second to last two, driving Johnny wild as both second to last toes were being tickled at the same time.
“You’ve been going for a minute,” Peter lied, it had actually been two, “Which means you have four minutes remaining …”
Johnny shook his head.
Peter physically saw him break, right there and then, that moment in his eyes where he realised, no, I can’t do this …
He hugged his knees and threw his torso forward, his eyes widening at the seagull feather, hysteria leaving his nostrils and swollen lips in the form of a once direly contained, strained and breathless chuckle.
Peter continued to draw little circles around Johnny’s second to last toe, whilst now scribbling his fingernails over the sole of Johnny’s baby oil soaked left sole.
“I heard that, Johnny. It was brief, but it was enough, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would appear you’ve failed …”
Johnny shook his head once again, this time faster, so much so that his chunks of hair fell over his face.
“No, man,” Johnny growled through gritted teeth, “I, I can do it,” his eyes darted from left to right, right to left, left to right as he took in the fingernails and then the feather, the feather and then the fingernails, his feet twisting and writhing under the tickle torture, the stocks creaking, the bed wobbling, sweat now presenting itself clearly above Johnny’s upper lip, “I, I can do it, man,” Johnny clamped his mouth shut but a whined giggle left his face through flared nostrils, its squeaky sound audible from his dry throat, “No! You didn’t hear that! I, I can do it, man, I, I can do, ooh, ooh, ooh—” Johnny squeezed his eyes shut as another strained chuckle left his lips, this time a little louder, this time a little less easier to contain, “—Oh, oh man, oh, oh fuck,” Johnny’s eyes widened as his feet were tickled in a way they had never been tickled before, “Oh, oh man, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny repeated, his mind gradually coming to terms with the fact that, hell, no way, he couldn’t do this, even if he tried his damn hardest, “Oh man! Oh god!” As if being edged to laugh, Johnny crumbled and gave in, his groany chuckles now turning into breathless giggles, his breathless giggles now turning into bellowed laughter, his bellowed laughter becoming panicked, alarmed, about to transform into desperate shouts and high pitched screams, but before Johnny reached that fever pitch level of reaction Peter jumped forward and cupped the boys mouth with his hand.
“—MPHHH—”
Johnny’s eyes crossed in the middle as he looked down at Peter’s right hand, tightly covering his lips.
Peter and Johnny remained still as silence filled the room.
…
…
…
Peter slid his hand away from Johnny’s mouth and returned to the knelt position.
He then began to massage Johnny’s soles once again.
Johnny blinked, breathing quickly through his nose, his mouth closed shut.
Peter, astonished and bewildered, could do nothing but stare down blankly at Johnny’s feet, his fingers gliding firmly over the silky smooth flesh that made up Johnny’s soles.
“You couldn’t last five minutes?” Peter spoke his thoughts out loud, “These are some ticklish feet, for you to not last five minutes …”
Johnny collapsed over the bed, landing on his back, bouncing gently.
He wiped some sweat from his forehead, his blurred vision taking in the hotel room ceiling and the fan spinning above him.
“I’m, I’m sorry, man, I… I told you, I can’t take it there, not on that toe, it’s like, too much, I, I said last time,” Johnny tucked his hands behind his head, his armpit hair now poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt, “Never tickle there again, dude. I literally warned you,” Johnny’s toes curled as another chuckle left his lips.
He sat up, disappointed in himself as he reached across the stocks and removed the string from his toes, “Damn, like, holy shit, dude. I’m not surprised I lost,” he rubbed the second to last toe of his right foot, “I’m not made for this shit, I, I thought I was but, but maybe I’m …”
Peter laid the feather over the bedsheets.
“Johnny. Listen. Kid. I … I have an idea,” he announced, “How about, we pretend that you just spent the next four minutes holding in all that laughter? You didn’t break, you didn’t fail, you didn’t give in …”
Johnny’s feet wiggled from side to side in the stocks as he scrunched up all ten of his toes, their fleshy lengths now free to clench and stretch out the itchiness.
A devious smirk lifted his lips as he glanced at Peter playfully.
“But, that would be cheating …” he whispered.
Peter shrugged.
“You want a chance to win today, or what?”
Johnny leant back on his arms, his casual stance returning to how it was before his second to last toes were violated so intensely, even if it wasn’t for very long at all.
“Go on …”
Peter unhooked the latch, opening the stocks, lifting the top half away from the bottom half so that Johnny could free his feet.
“Well done for ‘successfully’ completing the test,” Peter patted Johnny’s heels, giving Johnny permission to pull his feet out of the stocks, “You really struggled, I could tell. But, you did it, Johnny. You didn’t laugh once, and now you get your prize …”
Johnny sat in the cross legged position, watching Peter as he crawled off the bed and began to pace slowly around the hotel room.
“What do I get?”
Peter folded his arms as he faced the wall of the room, knowing that on the other side Joshua knelt with his hands behind his back, The Masked Tickler now no doubt stroking his neck …
“Your prize is similar to Joshua’s; the ability to choose how he’ll get his feet tickled, with whatever tool you desire…” Peter felt his arousal stiffen beneath his chinos, “… The only difference is, this time there will be no cheating …”
‘ORLANDO’S AWAKENING’ CONCLUDES IN PART FOUR, ‘THE ANNIHILATION’