Fuck, what is this.

Tim felt his arousal twitch and flex as Armie made his way down his body, kissing his waist and hips.

He expected the underwear to leave his ankles, but Armie gathered the material around them, clutching hold of the waist band tightly.

Tim could no longer move his feet.

He gasped as the sensation of a warm tongue slid around the length of the hardness now deep within Armie’s mouth, something Armie had also actioned only too recently whilst they packed for this very trip.

“Ffff-fuck,” Tim blurted, out into the darkness of the hotel room.

As rain continued to patter against the window, Armie disappeared under the bedsheets …

… His mouth and tongue consuming Timothée’s erection entirely …

… Leaving Tim covered in goosebumps, where he lay scrunched, partly aware and partly unaware, of what would happen next.

“Ho-oly shhhit,” Tim whispered, as he tired to pull his feet from the underwear gathered at his ankles.

He wanted to stretch his legs, to pull them apart, but Armie pinning his underwear down below restricted him from doing so.

Suddenly, Armie lifted up from the sheets.

He stood on his knees, the blankets and covers falling from his bare upper body.

Armie kept one hand around the underwear at Tim’s ankles, whilst using his other hand to confidently unzip the fly to his chinos.

The darkness hid the huge growth now free, now springing out into the air.

Tim rolled onto his back, his smooth, naked form once blanketed by bed sheets, now covered only by night time. 

He felt Armie lift his feet into the air, carrying them upward by holding onto the underwear gathered tightly around his heels.

“Put your hands behind your head,” Armie ordered, breathlessly.

Tim did as instructed, placing both hands behind his head, exposing his armpits.

Even though Armie couldn’t see them fully, simply knowing they were there, knowing they were open, for him, entirely for him, pushed Armie into deeper realms of arousal. 

Both young men breathed in this new experience together, this mutual, sudden, unexpected collision of two people wanting the same thing, for different reasons. 

Armie wanted to regain control, to feel power again, after his second private experience with Miller just thirty minutes ago.

Tim wanted reassurance, to know he was still valued, still wanted, not rejected because of a out-of-the-blue text message from someone from Armie’s past. 

Armie, still holding onto the underwear wrapped around Tim's feet, planted Tim’s soles around the hairs of his chest.

Armie shuffled inward, parting his own thighs, so that the bottom of Tim’s back rested between them.

Tim felt his heart race.

Surely, this wouldn’t happen right now?

Surely, a discussion would take place before something like this would …

--Surely, he knows I've not had sex with a man before ...

Tim thought back to just before they left New York.

Blindfolded, on his front, naked, with Armie’s hands around his …

‘I don’t know how to be … I’ve never done this sort of thing…’ Tim had whispered.

Surely that would inform Armie that fucking, right here, right now, would be the wrong thing to do?

Armie pulled Tim’s feet close towards his face. 

He breathed in their sweat, the scent of Tim’s plump, long toes … The pure silkiness of his soles.

He kissed Tim’s left heel, parting his lips, where he began to gently lick the side of Tim’s left foot.

Tim pressed the back of his head deeper into the pillow it lay on.

Feet.

It’s just feet.

Of course he just wants those.

That’s why I’m in this position.

That’s why—

—Tim winced as Armie sent his teeth around his left little toe.

He then bit his lower lip as Armie chewed on the next toe along.

An index finger had made it’s way to Tim’s right sole.

Tim tried to pull his feet apart, but the underwear bound them together.

Another bite, this time on Tim’s middle toe.

Tim reached up, snatching at Armie’s hands, successfully holding onto them with a squeezed grip.

Armie paused, keeping one of Tim’s toes in his mouth.


“I’ve told you… So many times …” Tim warned, “… Don’t bite them.”

Armie nodded slowly.

He then took the rest of Tim’s toes in a gentle and gradual suck.

Tim’s hands slid off Armie’s, where they returned to the behinds of his head.

He lay there learning, opening up, experimenting, allowing this …

… His feet twitching within their ticklish embrace, toes sucked and kissed by Armie, who’s erection poked between Tim’s calves.

Armie kept one hand on the underwear gathered at the bottom of Tim's legs, whilst his other trailed down past Tim’s thigh, up his side and into his right armpit.

Tim slid his right arm back down, away from his head.

He caught Armie’s fingers within the depths of his armpit hair.

Tim squirmed as Armie enforced a finger-strong tickle.

Using his left free hand, Tim grabbed Armie’s wrist and yanked it away from an area he physically couldn't handle to be touched.

Tim kept Armie’s hand in his as he endured further tickles by his ler's tongue, now sliding over the toes of his right foot.

Tim bucked his hips as Armie sent his mouth over both of Tim’s big toes, holding them in place, at the same time, with the strength of his lips. 

His tongue invaded the space between each big toe.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his grip on Armie’s hand.

“Ffffff-ffffff-tttt …” the word ‘fuck’ didn’t make it out.

Armie slid his fingers between Tim’s, gently taking Tim’s hand to the right corner of the hotel bed.

With Tim’s toes still in his mouth, Armie pinned Tim’s wrist down.

He then used his other free hand to pull a pre-attached black strap from the top right corner of the bed.

Tim’s feet shuffled against each other, caught up in his underwear, his big toes consumed by Armie’s lips.

Tim twisted his neck to the side, his eyes straining over to the strap.

Did he attach those whilst I slept?

Despite knowing that something like this would happen eventually, Tim still felt surprised.

Always six steps ahead …

He tried to pull his hand back.

“Come … Come on …” 

Armie allowed Tim’s big toes to pop out of his mouth, their plump exterior drenched in saliva.

“Beg me not to …” Armie whispered.

Armie began to pull Tim’s hand through the strap, tightening it in place.

Tim watched Armie’s hands travel to Tim’s left arm, where Armie’s fingers curled around Tim’s left wrist, lifting it upward, to the left upper corner of the bed.



“Sss-seriously …” Tim licked his lips, his soles returning in a planted position, against Armie’s chest, “… Please, don’t …” the champagne from earlier reminded itself of it’s presence, deep within the bottom of Tim’s bladder, “… I, I actually need to pee …”

Armie tied Tim’s left wrist in position, taking his hands over Tim’s chest, and back to the underwear gathered at his ankles.

“No excuses …” Armie declared, sending his tongue back over Tim’s soles, “… I’m in charge, remember …”

Tim hissed, as the ticklish expanse of the bottoms of his feet fell victim to Armie’s saliva, lips and stubble.

“Honestly, m-man, I really have to g—”

Tim pressed his lips together as Armie began to play with his armpit hair.

He yanked at the restraints, shifting the bed forward with the strength of his movement.

“—F-fffuck,” Tim clenched his teeth, forced to attempt to ignore the sting in his bladder, for now.

Instead, he eyed the fingers, through the darkness, sliding further into his pits, deeper into their sweaty delves.

Tim gasped out shuddered, desperate air as Armie began to tickle them, whilst sucking on one of the toes of Tim’s left foot.

Tim pulled his legs towards his chest.

He pressed his soles against Armie’s shoulders.

He tried to push Armie off of him, but Armie wouldn’t budge.

Tim watched both hands, his head snapping from left to right, as they invaded his pits.

Tim kicked his feet so hard that they slipped free from the underwear gathered at his ankles.

As Armie continued to press into Tim’s pits, Tim could do nothing but moan into the air, flaying his untied legs around in a desperate kick of madness.

He didn’t want to send his heel into Armie’s mouth, but he might have to if Armie didn’t st—

—Tim sighed heavily as Armie’s fingers slid away from his pits, over his chest and back up to his feet.

You asked for this, thought Tim.

You wanted proof he needed you.

Tim dropped his weight into the mattress, straightening his shoulders, wishing his hands were untied, wishing the intensity of the tank of champagne gushing about in his tummy would decrease.

You fucking got it.

Suddenly, the return of Armie’s tongue, over the length of Tim’s toes.

Tim closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation dancing over his feet, instead of the dull ache around his waist.  

Armie had now fully stripped Tim.

In Tim’s maddened kick, his underwear now sat somewhere on the hotel room floor.

Here he lay, naked and exposed, arms tied above, in what might be the most erotic and vulnerable position of his life, so far …

… Tim felt strangely satisfied that no matter what Miller said or did, Armie would always return here, always be his, always do this …

… Despite that satisfaction, Tim also felt frustrated, frustrated by the pain in his balls, the sting in his bladder, the shame he felt at strongly admitting he really had to go …

How childish.

How unsexy.

How inappropriate, during such an incredible, strange, new moment like this.

Tim also felt frustration towards Armie in general.

He knows how difficult that fucking wheel was for me.

I was sick, for Christ’s sake!

And now he’s doing this.

Armie used his fingertips to stroke Tim’s thighs.

He can’t help himself.

They made their way over his arousal, curling around the base, running gently up and down, up and down …

Tim felt his throat dry up.

Take it as a compliment.

He swallowed down, licking his lips, breathing heavily into the air.

He felt Armie shuffle closer towards him.

Tim’s feet remained at Armie’s face.

Armie now towered over Tim, in the knelt position.

Tim’s legs were squashed up against his own chest.

His knees almost pressing against his own face.

His arms, tied apart.

His need to pee removed, as his stomach became pressed inwards by the weight of Armie.

Tim felt hotel air against the smooth nakedness of his taint.

His hole, lifted slightly, exposed, ready for Armie to seemingly do whatever he wanted ...

A position that felt ready for entry.

Say something.

Say you’re not ready.

I am ready.

I can take this.

It’s Armie.

He’ll go slow…

Armie stared down at Tim’s soles, directly below him, so close to his nose he could smell every inch of Tim’s toes.

Past Tim’s size 11’s, Armie could see Tim’s face, head laid on the pillow, his pits on display, his arms stretched out either side of him.

Armie’s muscular, rigid strength rested over Tim’s hair-less chest.

It lay, solid and flexing, inches away from Tim’s mouth.

Tim looked down at it, it’s tip approaching Tim’s jaw.

Is it going in?

Am I gonna ... 

... Does he want me to ...

Fuck, my arms hurt.

Tim had never given a man head.

He had never wanted to.

He had never felt the need, never had the urge, never been inclined …

Once again, Tim grappled with what he thought Armie might or might not of considered.

He’s aware.

He’d know this is new, for m—

—Tim felt Armie shuffle closer.

He wanted to say,

Wait, what are we doing, what do you want?

Can we at least kiss, first?

But he didn’t want to repeat the same mumbled reservation he’d babbled only ten minutes ago.

Armie paused all movement.

Tim closed his eyes as Armie’s arousal rubbed gently over his suprasternal notch. 

Then, Armie whispered in a deep, almost desperate growl.

“I want your mouth, Timothée …”

Tim gulped, his eyes peeling open.

“My … My m-mouth?”

Tim couldn’t see Armie nod.

Can we turn on a light?

Why hasn’t he turned on the l—

--Armie shuffled forwards, further squashing Tim up against the headboard of the bed, further pressing Tim’s knees against his own stomach.

Tim opened his mouth, breathing out a sudden, “Do it …”

Armie swallowed down disbelief. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

Tim curled his fingers around the straps attached to his wrists.

“I’ll do anything,” he admitted, unintentionally revealing a visceral need to remind Armie of his own importance, of the Agreement, of the position he signed up to, two and a bit weeks ago…

Tim wished he didn’t feel so embarrassed by his verbalised vulnerability, during the moment Armie’s arousal moved into his mouth.

Tim widened his jaw and bulged his eyes as he took a man’s muscle, all in one, for the first time in his twenty three years of living.

His lips, moist and plump, rested around the shape …

… Saliva gathered naturally around the chaos as Tim’s tongue curled around the twitching base shoved so urgently into the back of his throat.

“Mmn …” Armie held onto either of Tim’s ankles, securing them by his own neck. 

He breathed in Tim’s heels, whilst grinding his hips in a forwards and backwards motion.

Tim’s head bobbed as saliva formed at each corner of his mouth.

“Mghfff … Mghhfff…” 

Armie pressed his mouth and face into Tim’s soles.

He breathed in Tim’s skin, kissing the tips of his toes, the sides of his feet, the ends of his heels.

Tim curled his fingers around his wrist restraints, acknowledging that only some hours ago he sat on the edge of this bed with his best friend, eating an ordinary cheese burger …

… And now he lay here, in this position, performing something he could only perform with Armie, for Armie …

… His mouth too full to comprehend anything else.

Fuck, he’s huge.

Far bigger than I thought.

Armie held Tim’s feet close to his chest, Tim’s soles staring Armie right in the eye.

He wrapped his right arm around Tim’s shins, pinning Tim’s heels in place.

Tim’s feet sat squashed below Armie’s jaw.

In this knelt down, God-like position, he started to use his free hand to stroke Tim’s soles.

His fingertips slid over the softness of the skin, where they then picked up to a gradual dance.

Tim’s eyes widened further.

His eyebrows burrowed into a deep frown.

“Mmphh — Mphhhh—!!”

He tired to protest, to verbalise the need to stop the sudden tickling, but his mouth was stuffed with Armie’s arousal.

He pulled at his restraints.

He wriggled his hips.

The more he moved, the more his bladder stung.

The more his mouth stretched around Armie.

The more his lips rubbed, up and down the throbbing length of Armie’s shaft.

The more his own hard on decreased, readying the muscle for a different type of relief. 

Armie moaned in pleasure as Tim’s head twisted around in panic.

“Mmghhh — Mphhhh? Mghhppph…!”

Armie tickled both of Tim’s feet at the same time, darting five fingers over the left sole, then over to the right.

Tim tried to twist his feet over each other, but Armie forced them neatly side by side, so he could play with both soles at once.

Tim’s eyes watered as Armie’s solid attraction continued to push further into his mouth.

Dribble began to roll away from Tim’s lips as a sting gathered around the base of his own now flaccid length.

Always the fucking tickling! 

We couldn’t of just done …

… This!

Fuck.

Fuck I need to pee.

I need to tell him.

As Armie played with his toes, Tim tried his hardest not to move his waist around too much.

Instead, he tried so desperately to pull his face away from Armie’s girth, it’s pulsating tip pressing against the back of Tim’s throat, holding his head against the creases of the pillow.  

He made noises, he attempted to communicate, his lips flexed and formed shapes around Armie’s thickness.

He warned the best he could, that if Armie were to continue being so relentless, something un-tasteful might soon happen, something he had tried to alert Armie about, before his wrists were slipped through black straps in the nighttime. 

Tim could only glare up at Armie, unable to speak, unable to stop him from tickling his feet, only able to acknowledge the fingernails gliding over his soles and the moist, fleshy expanse pressed against this tongue, only able to pull forcefully on the restraints around each of his hands, only able to endure the uncomfortable buzz in his bladder.

Seeing Tim struggle in this way, seeing him groan, seeing the saliva seep out of his mouth, seeing him act so frantically, seeing his toes curl and his feet writhe in his grasp, it all sent Armie into a mind numbing build up …

Armie parted his lips as the intensity gathered around his stomach and waist …

… It travelled through his hips, it tightened his balls, it hit the base …

Armie pressed his nose into Tim’s soles, squashing his lips against the arch of Tim’s left foot as the orgasm escaped his body.

Armie pulled himself out of Tim’s mouth, just in time.

Tim gasped for air, as if trapped under water for far too long

He then squeezed his eyes shut as Armie exploded all over his face, as the heavy Atlanta rainfall slammed against the hotel window.

Fuck!

Holy fuck!

Holy.

Fuck.

Hot droplets splattered on Tim’s mouth, his jaw, his nose and his neck.

Armie kept his hands around Tim’s feet as he allowed the overwhelming pleasure to shudder out of him, where it continued to jerk out over Tim’s chest and pits, over the pillows stuffed under his head, over the hotel sheets around them.

Both young men panted quietly, in shock, unsure of what had just happened, uncertain of the next steps.

Armie shuffled away from Tim breathlessly.

He slid off the edge of the bed as Tim’s feet fell onto the mattress with a bounce.

Tim lay there naked, covered in Armie’s orgasm, his hands still tied to each corner of the bed, his mouth still full of the taste of Armie’s erection. 

He slid his heels against ruffled up bed linen, his lips swollen, his mouth parted in stupor.

That was something else.

Was it good?

Was I good?

Now, you can go.

Ask if you can—

—Armie pulled down his chinos.

He kicked them away from his feet.

He stood there naked, his muscles defined, his body fresh from expelling relief.

He took large, bare feet over the hotel room floor, towards the bathroom light.

He flicked the twitch.

Tim squinted his eyes, his bare, bound frame suddenly lit, the details of tiny white puddles littering his upper body, as if hot wax had been dropped on him.

He swayed his waist from side to side, ready to be untied, ready to hopefully experience some relief of his own ...

Armie took his hand and held onto his still twitching arousal.

He turned to face Tim, where he watched him breathlessly curl aching fingers around the thick, black cotton straps attaching his wrist to bed corners.

Armie dragged his palm up his own still-hard length, squeezing out the last drops of pleasure from his tip.

He shivered, licking his lips as droplets fell onto the cream carpet he so triumphantly stood on.

Usually, after expelling such a large load of hormones, all need or want to do anything sexual often felt erased, until it’s return a few hours or so later …

… But, the sight of Tim, naked and unsure, tied and drenched before him … Struggling to express himself …

… It all presented itself as the reason for Armie’s next move.

Tim could see it in his eyes.

No.

“No!”

Armie jumped back onto the bed.

He grabbed Tim’s ankles, pulling them apart.

“Fuck!” Tim bounced up, “No, wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Armie slid towards Tim, straddling his waist and hips.

He pinned his body against the mattress with his heavy weight, planting himself down on his ‘lees stomach.

Tim kicked his feet, his heels pounding over the surface of the bed.

“No, sss-seriously, let me go, let me go, let me go, let me—“

Tim fell into a blind, electrified convulsion as Armie sent his fingers into the very depths of Tim’s armpits.

He wiggled them invasively against the very centre, causing Tim to flap his legs violently in the air as he screamed into the nighttime. 

Armie then took his attack to Tim’s sides, down to his waist, over his bloated stomach.

The rain began to fall harder, the window received further drench, the glass endured the wet, relentless soak …

Armie’s fingers slid over cum, sweat and skin, spreading the liquid results further over Tim’s upper body.

Tim’s face boiled, his eyes bulged out of his head, his bladder sent warning pains into his brain.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to say something, but words didn’t happen.

He felt too overwhelmed, too surprised, too ashamed by what could - no, would - happen, his legs kicking too wildly, his feet flying through the air too quickly, his arms too bound apart.

Finally, distressed, concerned, alarmed words came out of Tim’s mouth in a speedy, visceral warning spoken so fast it sounded like it had to be said all at once. 

“StoporImgonnapissmyself!!!” he heaved.

Armie laughed sadistically into Tim’s chest as he continued to tickle all over his upper body.

“Nice try!” Armie sent fingers over Tim’s waist, “Go for it, wet the damn bed, see if I care!”

Tim’s worst case scenario, seen as not even an inconvenience to Armie, and therefore not a threat or useful tool in getting this sudden torture to stop, informed Tim that he could do nothing but endure it.

Luckily, he had unbound feet.

He dug his heels into the mattress and pushed himself further up the bed.

He slid up and away from Armie’s straddle, able to pull his arms a little closer towards his body, able to hide the depths of his pits.

“Fuck no, God--” Tim fell back onto his waist, twisting away from Armie’s constant, relentless tickling, “--No, come on, fuck, stop this!” Tim clamped his mouth shut - now even speaking hurt, now even trying to verbalise his pleas caused stings down below.

Tim collapsed into a dribbled mess as Armie held onto Tim’s waist with strengthened fingers, pulling him back down over the sheets, his arms stretching back up.

Armie sent wiggling, aggressive fingers up and down Tim’s ribs.

It’s happening.

Tim bucked around, red faced, hysteric, still covered in Armie’s cum.

It’s his fault.

In the midst of one of his most intimate, naked, hardcore sessions yet …

Let it go. End this.

Tim arched his back.

“Agh, damnit …!” He acknowledged the burst, the break, the burn, “Fuck, please …! ” He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Tim relaxed the pained, agonising tension at the pit of his stomach, as self disappointment overwhelmed him.

He had no choice, no ability to control it.

Even without being so violently tickled, even without being tied, he still would’ve exploded with this amount of hold up, sooner than later.

Armie felt the warmth flood the space between his skin and Tim’s.

He slid away from his ‘lees upper body as Tim rolled his hips from side to side in a gradual, lip quivering moan. 

A line of yellow sprinkle arched into the air.

It decorated the bed sheets and pillows, it landed over Tim’s thighs and legs, it drooped over his stomach and hips.

Armie curled his fingers around Tim’s left ankle.

He held Tim’s left foot in an armlock.

And as Tim pissed himself, Armie dragged fingernails over the flesh of Tim’s left sole.

Tim winced and writhed, he kicked his right foot madly in the air, he pulled himself up off the bed, glaring at Armie with eyes appearing demonic … All whilst his once erect muscle expelled a different type of relief.

It dribbled to a dripping stop, just as Armie let Tim’s foot go. 

Tim lay sprawled out, breathless, covered in bodily fluids of his own, as well as Armie’s.

Armie knelt on the mattress, wiping sweat off his own forehead.

Tim planted his palms on the surface of the bed, pushing his upper body back up, his legs wide apart, his legs shaking as the tip of his muscle finished removing champagne from inside of him.

He stared into the carpet, leaning back on tied arms, sniffing up emotion as his eyes began to water.

The puddles around him began to soak into the bedsheets, as Armie approached Tim.

He wrapped his arms around him, embracing him, pulling his still-tied body into his chest.

Tim closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pressed his face into Armie’s shoulder.

“Now …” Armie had to catch his own breath, before speaking, “ … From now on, you, and I … We can say anything … Do anything … Be however we want to be, with each other… Is that understood?” He kissed Tim’s forehead, clawing his fingers into Tim’s shoulder blades.

Tim nodded frantically into Armie’s skin, unable to blink, unable to respond with words.

Armie held onto Tim’s cheeks, positioning Tim’s head firmly in front of him, holding onto Tim’s emotionally and physically exhausted gaze.

“… After a session like that, after, after something so, so brutal, so honest, so open, so fucking intimate …” Armie spoke carefully, slowly, fully aware Tim currently existed in a different plane, “From now on, we drop the fucking guards. We stop the Goddamn over thinking. We ask no more questions … Understood?”

Tim nodded once again, his cheeks squashed up in Armie’s palms, hysteria seeping out of his nostrils and lips.

Armie turned away from Tim, heading into the bathroom, where he began to run a shower …

… Leaving Tim still bound, overwhelmingly destroyed …

… Completely naked, his drenched form a visual encapsulation of what it looks like, what it means to be dominated beyond comprehension. 

Just like you asked.

Just like you wanted.

Tim threw his head back against the pillow.

He pulled his arms, his hands still pinned by bondage at each corner of the bed.

And in one single, breathless whisper, he gasped into the ceiling, and simply exhaled out the word--

“—Fuck!"

TCTLR continues in Chapter Twenty Two - ‘This Finger’ …