When Tim woke up the next day, he felt surprised to realise that it was mid morning.

New York sun beamed in from curtains he had left open.

The lavish, expensive, rich-looking apartment bedroom he laid in had now been lit a vibrant yellow.

Tim pulled his feet towards him, however he could only do so so much due to his right ankle being attached to the bed.

He’d be going nowhere until Armie came in and unlocked his leather strap.

Tim sat up and rubbed some sleep from his eyes.

He yawned, ran both hands through his hair and then he simply sat in silence, staring into the red blankets surrounding him.

He felt exhausted.

Yesterday’s session in The Incubator had worn him out completely.

His abs felt tight and achy, his throat a little sore from constantly pleading with Armie to stop.

He felt like he’d endured an hour long work out.

Tim sighed.

With a slight dread in his stomach, he began to wonder what might be in store for him next …

… Suddenly, Tim’s ankle strap popped open.

Tim, startled by the surprise release, shuffled both of his feet freely towards him and then assessed the strap chained to the corner of the giant bed he sat on.

It must be part electric …

… Part controlled, not just by the physical key Armie had locked it with, but possibly by something digitally external.

Either way, Tim felt relieved to be able to move.

He slid off the bed, in just a pair of sweat pants, and walked over comforting carpet, towards the giant windows shedding light into his temporary bedroom.

His green eyes stared out at New York City, still in Lockdown, but still populated by fresh air, pigeons and a bright blue sky.

Tim didn’t feel envious, like he thought he would.

If there would be anytime to sign a contract that stated you’d be someone’s prisoner for a month, it might as well be now, when everyone in The World had been ordered to stay inside.

Armie’s voice crackled through a speaker.

“Good morning, Timmy …”

Tim looked to the corner of the room he heard the voice come from.

A small black device with a small dot blue light, neatly tucked away by a curtain pole and wired into the wall, clearly expelled Armie’s greeting.

“Uh …” Tim looked around, sheepishly, “ … Morning?”

“Don’t be startled, kid … This is all part of the fun …” Reminded Armie, via an echoing, muffled tone.

Tim wrapped slim arms around his chest, conscious that he was clearly being watched.

“Where, where are you?” He asked, unsure as to why Armie couldn’t just speak to him in person.

“Go to the desk,” Armie instructed, “Inside, you’ll find a MacBook … I want you to open it up.”

Tim darted his eyes towards the large oak wooden desk on the other side of the bedroom, perched under tall, floor-to-ceiling windows.

Tim walked over to it, took a seat and pulled open the desks only drawer.

Inside, amongst a fountain pen, a feather and a broken Rolex, lay a fully charge, new-looking MacBook.

Tim pulled it out, sat it on the surface of the desk and then opened it up.

The screen flashed on immediately.

“Now, press the space bar,” Armie ordered, via the ceiling speaker.

Tim tapped his index finger on the space bar.

A video screen popped up.

Tim could see himself, on camera, as if he were on a video call or FaceTime.

Straight away, Tim tidied his hair and rubbed some sleep away from his eyelashes.

“Fuck, I look tired,” He grumbled.

“You look incredible,” Armie responded.

Tim sat quietly in his seat as he avoided his own gaze on the MacBook’s screen.

“I want you to go to the wardrobe, Tim. Inside, you’ll find an outfit that I want you to dress yourself in.”

Tim couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

How would Armie tickle him, by not being here …?

Would tickling even take place at all?

Tim got up from his seat and walked towards the huge, wooden wardrobe that looked like it had been designed in the mid 1800’s.

He pulled open tall, creaking doors and peered inside the interior.

A black t-shirt and blue Adidas sports shorts hung on velvet hangers.

On one of the wardrobes shelves, some thick white socks had been laid out neatly.

“This … This looks like somebody’s gym gear,” Tim commented.

“It’s yours. Go on, try it all on.”

Tim had no choice but to do as he had been told.

He pulled the clothes off the hangers and picked up the socks.

Then, he walked to the middle of the bedroom and peeled off his sweat pants.

Tim now stood naked on the carpet.

Before starting, Tim had a question.

“Uh …” Tim looked over the sports shorts, “… No underwear?”

A crackle from the speaker.

“No underwear,” Armie responded.

Tim tucked some hair behind his ears and hesitantly pulled on the sports shorts.

The fabric felt soft against his balls and cock.

The elastic band sat perfectly on his waist, as if Armie knew Tim’s size off the top of his head.

Tim then pulled on the black t-shirt.

He perched himself on the edge of the bed and then yanked on the white socks.

These were soft and came up to midway on his shins.

He made sure the tips of the socks sat neatly over the ends of his feet, where he curled his toes within the cotton confines to confirm they felt comfortable.

Curls dangled over Tim’s eyes as he waited for Armie to tell him what to do next.

“Now, go back to the desk and take a seat …”

Armie sounded breathless.

Tim walked back to his chair and sat back down.

After a slight pause, Armie began to instruct Tim on his future movements.

“Timmy, are you listening carefully?”

Tim nodded.

“Of course … “

Another crackle from the speaker, “ … Good. Now, I want you to slowly remove your socks on camera.”

Tim listened quietly, blinking in the information.

“Gradually, one foot at a time, peel off your socks and show me your incredible, ticklish feet.”

Tim shifted his eyes from side to side.

“Right now?” He asked.

“Right now,” Armie replied.

Tim cleared his throat and readjusted himself on the chair.

He had never ‘revealed’ his feet, like this before.

He had, in all honesty, absolutely no idea what to do.

Tim compartmentalised his thoughts and decided to see this as a new acting role.

Act, pretend … It’s what he did best.

It was literally his job.

If he could be nominated for an Academy Award, and a BAFTA, he could do this.

So, Tim took on the role of someone else.

A guy, revealing his feet, to a stranger on camera.

Tim centred himself in front of the MacBook and lifted his left foot onto the desk.

His socked sole sat perfectly in shot.

Tim adopted a smouldering look across his face - the kind he would present when on the red carpet, or during a photoshoot.

He could hear Armie become more breathless through the sound of the speaker.

Tim hooked his fingers around the hem of his sock and slowly pulled it down to his ankle.

Then, he hooked the sock over his heel.

Gradually, as ordered, Tim peeled the sock away from his foot …

… But he stopped, mid way.

“Like this?” Tim asked.

“P-perfect …” Armie replied.

Tim gently massaged his fingers over the exposed flesh of his sole before continuing to remove the sock.

Finally, the sock came off Tim’s long, soft toes.

He curled them suggestively and scrunched them up, close to the camera.

“Man …” Armie sounded entertained, “ … Timmy, your feet are sensational. I know, I know I’ve said it before, but … I really can’t get over how incredible they are.”

Tim slid his fingers over his toes and then sat his now bare left foot on the desk, for Armie to admire.

He felt butterflies in his tummy.

Was he enjoying this part of the agreement?

Or did it just feel like light relief, to do something else that didn’t include being tied up and tickled?

After a few seconds of showcasing his foot, Tim lifted his right one onto the desk.

Just like before, he slowly peeled the sock away from his foot during a time frame of around three minutes.

This time, he left the sock on the tip of his toes, for it to dangle there over the desk.

Tim then flexed his toes and twitched his foot just a little, so that the sock fell off.

It landed on the carpet, under Tim’s chair.

Tim now placed both feet together on the desk.

He slowly rubbed them against each other, doing what he thought might be best for someone viewing on the other side of the screen, who had such an intense foot fetish.

In this case, Mr. Hammer.

“Wow …” Armie’s voice crackled through the speaker, “ … They’re so soft, so smooth … “

Tim felt his cheeks blush pink.

“Thanks …”

Tim could hear Armie swallow down.

“Have people told you that you have beautiful feet before, Timmy?” Armie asked.

Tim couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, I think you’re the first …”

Tim could hear Armie smile.

“Do you wear socks often?”

Tim curled his toes before answering Armie’s question.

“Uh, yeah, most of the time …”

Tim’s feet, on perfect display, were starting to drive Armie wild.

“That explains why they’re so delicate, so sensitive, so un-marked … They’re not used to harsh touch … That explains why they’re so ticklish,” Armie explained.

Tim flexed his toes at the mere sound of the word ‘ticklish’.

“Yeah, I uh, I guess,” He mumbled.

“Show me, Timmy …” Armie asked, “ … Point to the top three areas of your feet that are the most ticklish …”

Tim shuffled a little in his seat.

He felt unsure about providing such valuable and invasive information to someone who held so much power over him.

Information that could put him at risk in the future, or lead Armie to drive him insane by working on noted-out areas during another unbearably torturous session.

“You know them,” Timmy replied, “You’ve … You’ve explored every inch of them, you’ve —“

“—Remind me,” Armie interrupted.

Tim could sense a glimmer of impatience in Armie’s tone.

He didn’t want to piss him off.

He wanted to avoid any intention for Armie to tickle him harder, or faster, or in a more intense way than last night, confined within The Incubator.

So, Tim leant forwards a little and took his index finger gently to the arch of his left foot.

Then, he took it slowly to the bottoms of his toes, where he trailed the finger across the underneath.

Fuck, even that tickled.

Finally, Tim took his index finger to the bit of flesh between his little toe and the toe next to that one.

Then, Tim put his hands back into his lap.

If Armie was not entirely sure on Tim’s worst-spots, he sure as Hell would be now.

“Thank you …” Armie whispered through the speaker, “ … But you’re lying.”

Tim’s eyes widened.

“N-no … No I’m not … “

Armie sighed.

“Yes, you are. Only one of those is correct … But, not to worry … ” Armie sounded confident as he finished his sentence, “ … I’ll find out either way.”

Suddenly, the MacBook switched itself off.

Tim sat on the chair, with his feet on the desk, in complete silence.

“Armie?” He gulped.

No reply.

Tim looked up at the speaker in the corner of the ceiling.

“Are you there …?”

Nothing.

Tim shuffled back in his chair and planted his feet back down on the carpet.

Sirens from outside as well as beeping taxi horns were all Tim could hear.

Had he done something wrong?

Why did you lie, you stupid sonovab—

—Tim’s bedroom door handle creaked downward.

Tim turned in his seat,

Armie opened the door and stepped into Tim’s bedroom.

He wore a tight white vest tucked into stone coloured chinos.

On his feet - smart black loafers.

Tim eyed the outfit, and then Armie.

“H-hey,” He said, nervously.

“Get on the bed,” Armie ordered.

Tim, intimidated and confused, adjusted the sleeve of his t-shirt and carefully approached the bed.

He climbed on, leaving the socks by the desk.

“Sit on the edge, and face me,” Armie instructed.

His tone felt stern, authoritative.

Tim shuffled forwards and perched himself on the edge of the giant mattress.

He hadn’t had the chance to make the bed, so the sheets still lay messy around him.

Tim centred himself so he fully faced Armie.

Armie knelt down on the carpet, at Tim’s feet, and picked up his left foot.

He did it gently, as if he were handling delicate china.

Tim clenched his teeth as he readied himself for tickling.

Armie took Tim’s foot and bought it close to his face.

He began to smell around Tim’s toes, along the length of them and through the gaps between.

Tim bit his lip as he gently tugged his leg towards him.

Armie knew how sensitive Tim was, more than ever and now more than anyone, so he tightened his grip around his ankle and continued to trail his nose over the soft, plump flesh of Tim’s toes.

The boy hadn’t showered since he left his own Brooklyn home yesterday morning.

He had sweated since, in The Incubator.

So Tim’s feet presented a slight tang, in regards to their smell.

By no means overpowering, it still confidently existed throughout Armie’s exploration, which was something Armie felt satisfied with.

Armie’s nose left Tim’s toes and then trailed down to the main sole of his foot.

Armie’s tongue slid out of his mouth and gently pressed against the ticklish flesh in his grasp.

Tim curled his hands around the edges of the bed as he endured the sensitive sensation of Armie’s tongue gliding around his sole.

“Ah! Shit … That feels …”

Armie’s tongue curled around Tim’s middle toe, where he popped it in his mouth.

“That feels…?” Armie asked, with his mouthful.

Tim squirmed in ticklish agony as Armie chewed on the toe.

“That fe-ee-eels WEIRD, fuck!”

Armie popped Tim’s toe out of his mouth and then began to kiss, lick and suck the rest of his sole.

Tim bit his lip and stared up at the ceiling.

This wasn’t the session he had expected.

The warmth of Armie’s tongue, with the mixed feeling of ticklish-ness now rolling between his toes, definitely felt like tickle torture, but it also felt like something else …

… Something he had only ever heard of, and never experienced …

… Foot worship.

Armie’s tongue trailing around his little toe became too much to bare.

Automatically, Tim tried to pull his foot back towards him.

Armie maintained a firm grip.

Then, he started to nibble on all five of Tim’s right toes.

Tim hissed and kicked his leg.

Again, Armie’s hold remained tight.

With no bonds to his hands, Tim reached forwards.

But Armie glared up at him.

He kept his lips by Tim’s toes and spoke into them.

“Don’t make me tie you down …” He warned.

Like a told-off puppy, Tim returned to his position with a lowered head.

Armie went back to sucking on Tim’s toes.

He took in their silky soft texture and sweaty scent.

He slid his tongue between them, enjoying every inch discovered, as well as Tim’s reactive pulling.

Tim thumped the other free foot down on the carpet, like a rabbit.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grinned as the tongue tickling continued.

And then, Armie took Tim’s kicking right foot and pulled it beside his left.

He sat down in a cross legged position and held both of Tim’s feet under his right arm.

He tucked Tim’s ankles securely under his right armpit and admired the tops of them, for just a moment.

“Jesus, they’re God damn beautiful…” Armie spoke in a whisper.

He took in the veins that structured Tim’s feet, the clean toe nails and gentle trails of hair that lined each toe …

… His eyes trailed over the smoothness of Tim’s heels … “No cracks at all,” Armie commented.

Tim lifted his shoulders and held onto the edges of the bed as he allowed Armie to hold onto such a sensitive area of his body, so freely.

“I don’t really go bare foot …” Tim scratched his nose as curls of hair fell over the sides of his face, “ … When we shot Call Me By Your Name … That, that was the most I’d ever had my feet out.”

Armie smiled, “I remember admiring them just as much then…”

Armie reflected a movement in the movie, where he kissed Tim’s foot. Only this time, he was able to kiss them both.

“H-have you, uh, always had a thing for feet?”

Tim asked the question more to delay the ticklish licks, instead of asking out of genuine curiosity.

“Yes,” Armie replied, “Mostly tickling, but feet, like yours, are hard to not have ‘a thing’ for.”

Tim clenched his teeth.

“A thing?” He asked.

Armie gently kissed Tim’s big toes with soft, pressing kisses.

“Yes, a thing. An obsession. A mad, overwhelming, all consuming addiction.”

Tim’s jaw dropped.

“Wow, I uh … Uh … “ He felt a little speechless, until … “AH!”

Tim felt Armie’s fingertips brush over his soles.

He gasped, pulled his feet towards him, but Armie kept them in their locked position.

“Does that tickle, Tim?”

Tim hissed as Armie’s fingers danced around his soles once again.

“You know it does!” He growled.

Armie kept Tim’s feet locked under his armpit and continued his tickle attack, often focusing on the arch or toe area, to ensure Tim would be driven nuts.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Teased Armie.

Tim kicked and pulled as he threw his upper body back onto the bed.

Then, he lifted himself up and reach forwards, clawing at Armie’s shoulder and arms in an attempt to break the lock his own ankles sat in.

Armie chuckled at Tim’s attempts as he continued to tickle the poor boy’s feet.

“Come on, stop, stopppp! Wasn’t yesterday enough? Fuck, come on, c-come ON!”

Tim’s feet continued to squirm in Armie’s grasp as he reached forwards once again and clawed at Armie’s shoulder.

“Stop doing what, Timmy?” Armie enjoyed being so verbal.

“Stop, stop fucking ti-tickling me!” Tim said, through gritted teeth.

Armie sent his fingers under Tim’s clenched toes, which really caused Tim to kick.

Armie was now shaking forwards and backwards, due to the strength of Tim’s reactions.

“Stop tickling you where?” Asked Armie, a layer of sweat now forming over his forehead.

Tim shouted this time.

“MY FEET!” His voice broke, “STOP TICKLING MY FEET.”

Armie dropped Tim’s feet to the floor.

Tim pulled them up onto the bed and tucked them away, under his legs.

Armie turned around and looked at Tim with a satisfied grin.

Tim’s hair had fallen over his face.

He looked flustered and breathless.

Tim couldn’t help but notice the giant bulge pulsating in Armie’s trousers.

Armie couldn’t help but rub it.

“Tim … “ Armie spoke carefully, with structured sincerity, “ … Would you let me?”

Tim shuffled within the blankets as he caught his breath.

“Let … Let you do what?”

Armie stood over Tim like a tall, forever-ruling God.

His fingertips pressed against Tim’s chest, where he forcefully pushed Tim back on the bed.

Tim lay there with a bounce.

Armie reached under Tim’s legs and pulled his feet back out into view.

“Would you let me cum, on your soles?”

Tim blinked.

He sat upwards, whilst Armie held onto Tim’s right foot by the ankle.

Tim wondered what would happen if he said no.

He wondered if there would be further tickle punishment …

… If he would have to pay for not letting Armie do what he wanted.

He thought about his own sexual urges.

How they were removed from his mind, as soon as he ejaculated.

Maybe, if he allowed Armie to do this, his horny-ness would subside and the tickling would stop …

… For at least a day, maybe two?

Tim nodded quickly.

“Sure,” He said, with no further hesitation.

Armie couldn’t believe his luck.

Excitement started to build in his stomach.

“Are you sure?” He asked, in surprise.

Tim lifted his shoulders.

“I’m … I’m sure. Do what you need to do.”

Armie grinned.

He then rolled Tim over, so that Tim lay on his front.

Then, he adjusted him so that both of his feet hung slightly over the corner of the bed.

Armie hooked both of his thighs over Tim’s ankles and perched himself down, so he more or less sat on the bottom of Tim’s legs.

Tim propped himself up on his elbows as he quietly waited for Armie to do as he pleased.

Armie unzipped his trousers.

He wore no underwear, so his large, thick cock, erect and fully hard, sprung out.

Clean shaven and slightly tanned in colour, Armie’s cock throbbed at the sight of Tim’s naked feet below it.

Tim could feel Armie’s balls rest on his heels.

And then, he could feel Armie’s fingertips dancing over his soles.

Tim grabbed a nearby pillow and buried his face into it.

His feet wriggled and squirmed beneath Armie’s cock as Armie tickled Tim’s feet with one hand, and rubbed his own cock with the other.

Tim bit into the pillow as he crossed his feet over one another.

They squirmed deliciously as Armie brought himself close to climax.

Armie loved seeing Tim’s feet writhe around in ticklish desperation as he teased his soles with his fingertips.

Tim had now started to squirm his upper body.

Armie tickled Tim’s feet so hard that the boy had no choice but to buck around like a wet fish.

HIs reactions and the sound of his muffled cries into the pillow were turning Armie on so much that he felt the urge to rub his cock harder and faster …

The way Tim’s toes curled and scrunched,

The way, when the sides of his feet were tickled, he would kick rampantly outward, repeatedly,

The way Tim would try to block off attacks, by crossing each foot over each sole,

The way Armie would tickle each foot away, only to see Tim try his defence method again.

Oh, the many, many sights Armie took in whilst looking down at Tim’s wiggling feet, all the while trying to sit still as the rest of Tim’s body shifted from side to side in a manic struggle.

It was perfect,

Insanely perfect.

And then, for Armie, it got too arousing.

… He started to feel his breath leave his lips.

Tim’s hysterics into the pillow had driven Armie past the point of no return.

Armie felt the overwhelming sense of pleasure roll up the bottom of his back, where it darted past his waist and landed at the base of his cock.

And then, Armie ejaculated all over Tim’s soles.

Thick spews of cum rolled out onto the silky flesh of Tim’s feet, decorating them in splashes of creamy white.

Armie closed his eyes and moaned in ecstatic relief as he allowed his weight to rest on Timmy’s ankles.

Tim lifted his head from the pillow.

He felt the warmth of Armie’s cum drizzle over his arches and down to the gaps between his toes.

Tim had just had his first sexual experience with a man.

Armie looked down at Tim’s cum-soaked feet and smiled satisfyingly.

Then, he took both hands and began to gently tickle the cum *into* Tim’s soles.

The cum worked like baby oil in increasing the sensitivity of Tim’s feet.

Tim groaned as he became informed that the torment was not yet over.

He bucked and bounced around on the bed as he returned his head to the pillow.

He bit down on the fluffy cotton and endured Armie’s fingertips once again, as they went back to tickling his soles, this time with the glide and slippery-ness of Armie’s cum currently coating them.

Tim’s feet writhed around uncontrollably, they slid between and over each other, covering the tops of them in Armie’s cum as well.

And then, Armie stopped.

Tim rested into the mattress with a hefty, breathless sigh.

Armie climbed off of Tim’s ankles and zipped his trousers back up.

He turned to see Tim, sprawled out on his front, like a rag doll.

Cum dripped off the tips of his toes.

Armie wiped some sweat from his forehead and then walked into Tim’s ensuite bathroom.

He returned with a towel.

He knelt back down by Tim’s legs and carefully took Tim’s feet in his hands.

Tim rolled over to his back and coughed into his fist.

Then, he sat up and slicked his hair back with his hands.

“Jesus …” He huffed.

Armie cleaned Tim’s feet with the towel, whilst looking him in the eye.

“Thank you, once again, Timmy…”

Tim avoided Armie’s gaze as he felt the softness of the towel rub against his soles.

“N-no problem …”

Armie smiled, “Like I said, your feet … Take me to places I’ve not felt in a while. They really are beautiful. And your reactions are unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been doing this with guys, for quite some time.”

Tim smiled and then found the courage to look at Armie directly.

“Thanks, Armie. I’m uh… Glad they’re worth it.”

Armie, once done with cleaning Tim’s feet, dropped the towel to the carpet and then kissed each sole, just the once.

Once his feet were free’d, Tim placed them down on the carpet.

“Grab yourself a hot shower,” Armie suggested, “And then join me downstairs …”

Tim nodded.

“What the fuck is next?” He asked, with raised eyebrows.

Armie chuckled as he picked up the cum stained towel and flicked it over his shoulder.

“A much deserved break,” He announced.

Tim sighed out relief and then laughed in joy.

“Phew,” He wiped some of his own sweat from his lip and then watched Armie walk back towards his bedroom door.

“Let’s watch a movie. Have some beers, maybe order a pizza,” Armie announced.

“Oh …” Tim’s eyes lit up, “… Uh, that … That actually sounds pretty awesome.”

Armie grinned, “I thought you might like that idea. I’ll meet you downstairs. Take your time.”

As Armie left, Tim lay back down on the bed and let an exhausted breath blow out of his lips.

He felt excited by the idea of spending some quality time with Armie as a friend, and not as a sub-ticklee.

Tim jumped off the bed, kicked off the sports shorts and pulled off the t-shirt, and then he turned on the shower.

The water went from cold to boiling within seconds.

Tim stepped in and washed himself clean.

The baby oil, the cum, the sweat, the ticklish itchy-ness still tormenting his soles, all drained themselves away down the shower plug hole.

Tim’s aching muscles found sweet relief in the hot water pounding down over him.

He had just had his first sexual experience with a man.

Not the acting kind, like he and Armie had so convincingly achieved during Call Me By Your Name.

But real, genuine, intimacy,

Consented,

Respectfully asked for.

And although Tim didn’t have to do much besides lay there and take it,

He stood in the shower, cleaning himself with a sudden realisation --

-- He kinda enjoyed it.

Sure, the tickling felt intense and horrible and always something he’d have to endure,

But knowing this person felt this way about him, so strongly …

It made Tim feel flattered.

Which made Tim feel good, at a time where his career used to that instead and now, no longer could.

Tim and Armie had entered a new realm within their friendship, within their contractual agreement …

… Now they were something else.

Something different.

Something more.

TCTLR continues in Chapter Eight - ‘The Index Toe’ …