Tim bounced his knees nervously as he sat on the edge of his bed and patiently waited for 6pm.

For some reason, this was the most nervous he’d felt since moving in with Armie. 

He sensed a shift, a change in the buildings atmosphere … 

He acknowledged dread, resting in the core of stomach.

Tim looked at his iPhone and re-read Armie’s text message.

‘I can’t wait to hear all about your weekend’ 

It sounded so tame, so casual.

‘I have so much planned’ 

That sounded a little less comforting.

At one minute to six, Tim got to his feet and pocketed his phone.

Then, he left his ensuite and walked quietly down the hall.

As he arrived at Armie’s closed bedroom door, he shuffled on the spot and wondered what he should do next.

Tim curled his right fist into a ball and went to knock on the door.

But before his knuckles could hit the surface, Armie opened the door inwards.

Tim’s fist fell through thin air.

He casually swung both hands behind his back and smiled at Armie.

“Oh, hey.”

Armie grinned at Tim’s obvious nervous-ness.

Exactly how I want him to be feeling, Armie thought. 

“Hey, kid.”

Armie stepped towards Tim and took the young man in a giant bear hug.

Tim chuckled as his face squashed up against Armie’s chest.

He then wrapped his arms around Armie’s waist and closed his eyes.

Armie squeezed Tim a little harder and then broke the hug.

“It’s good to be back. How’ve you been?”

Armie turned away from Tim and walked into the depths of his bedroom.

Tim took a step inwards, where he immediately reminded himself to act like he’d never been in this room before.

“No complaints,” Tim slid his hands into his pockets, “Wow, your room is … Huge …”

His eyes rolled over to the four poster bed, where a large pint of water had been neatly placed by the bedside table.

Armie, dressed in a long sleeved white shirt, chinos and loafers, started to remove the tie around his collar as he eyed the bedrooms ceiling.

“It’s a little too big, for just me,” Armie dropped the tie over a giant, velvet armchair and then turned back to Tim, “Close the door, would you?”

Tim nodded and turned back to the bedroom door, where he quietly shut it behind him.

Rays of setting sun splayed out streams of yellow over the carpet and ivory coloured bed linen.

The outside noise from the city below faded away as Armie started to unbutton his shirt.

“A whole weekend,” Armie unpicked buttons one by one, “And all I’ve done is think about what I’m going to do to you … What will happen next.”

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, we’re, we’re getting right … Right to it?”

Armie's nod came with a flirtatious smile, “You think I can wait a second longer?”

Tim began to step back as Armie approached him with hunter-like pacing. 

“Uhm,” Tim’s back pressed against the wall, “Are we, are you, is this when I can …”

Armie shook his head, glancing down to Tim’s crotch, “No. Not yet.”

Armie stood still and then pulled his shirt off his back, revealing a bronzed chest and toned stomach. 

Tim looked from left to right. 

Armie threw the shirt over his shoulder and slid off his loafers. 

“You’ll need to be naked, for this.”

Armie turned away from Tim and headed into the depths of his walk in wardrobe.

Tim watched Armie disappear.

He glanced down at his feet and then folded his arms in hesitance.

After two days apart, Armie clearly only had one thing on his mind.

“I uh,” Tim tucked some hair behind his ears, “I thought we could uhh, order in, or something, before we uh, before …” Tim huffed, “… Like, catch up on your weekend, before … We …”

… No response from Armie.

Tim unfolded his arms.

He reluctantly swallowed down any reservation currently bubbling within his chest and then pulled his hoodie over his head.

Then he yanked off his Converse and slid out of his jeans.

As he neatly folded up his clothing, he kept one ear on Armie, who rifled within the walk in wardrobe only a few metres away ...

... An area Tim had snooped in only two days ago. 

When Armie returned, he had a white towel tucked under his left armpit as well as various leather straps and rope in his hands.

In his left chino pocket - a single white seagull feather and a hair brush.

Tim felt a sting in his stomach.

Those tools, by now, were quite simply triggers. 

Armie walked past Tim and dumped the elements onto the mattress of his bed.

“I said naked,” Armie spoke with authority as he laid the towel out over the expanse of linen.

Tim broke his gaze away from the feather and brush and reminded himself to continue stripping.

He pulled off his socks and then turned his back to Armie as he yanked down his briefs.

Tim kicked them up into his grasp and then folded them down on his pile of clothing gathered on the carpet. 

He then stood with his feet a little apart and his hands hovering over his crotch - right hand covering left wrist, of course.

“So, did you have a nice break?” Armie asked, as he separated leather cuff from rope.

Tim felt a press of relief.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so intense after all.

Tim leant into Armie’s casual question with a casual answer.

“Uh, yeah. I uh, I got this amazing new bagel from uh…” No, that's boring, “... Oh, I went for a walk around Central Park with my sister today, it was —“

“—You told her about this, didn’t you?” Armie began to tie black rope to each corner of his four poster, king sized bed, “… About us.”

Tim watched Armie set up as he tried to maintain a cool exterior.

“Huh?” Tim scratched the back of his head, “Uh, why, why wou—“

Armie slid the rope through his fingers as he continued his set up, “Why wouldn’t you?”

Tim frowned into the carpet as he pinched his wrist nervously. 

“Has she, has she spoke with you? I only just —“

Armie began to attach leather cuffs to each length of rope knotted to each corner of his bed. 

“—It was only an assumption, Tim. You mentioned you’d be seeing her. I know how close you both are, how you’ve not confided in anyone else about our Agreement,” once happy with his set up, Armie turned to face Tim, “And, going by your body language, it would seem my assumption is correct.”

Tim lowered his head.

“I had to tell someone.”

Armie walked towards Tim and then placed both warm, tanned hands on Tim’s bare, pale shoulders.

“I don’t mind that you’ve told her, Tim. You’re the one who’s shaking, not me.”

Tim peered up at Armie, “You, you spoke like it was something I shouldn’t of done.”

Armie smiled, “I think whether you believe it’s a good idea or not is entirely down to you.”

Armie’s palms slid off of Tim.

He then turned and headed towards the bed.

Tim’s hands left his wrist and dangled by his side as he spoke.

“She’s … She’s promised to keep it between us,” Tim reassured, “She’s not like that.”

Armie removed the many cushions from the bed and neatly laid them out against the far wall of his bedroom.

He then left two sleeping pillows in position, for Tim’s head.

“Loyalty is something you both have in common, then.”

Armie admired the clean, soft cotton of the towel that would contain Timothée’s sweat, and then turned to take in his lee, in his naked presence.

The boy stood triumphantly, with an unspoken confidence, displaying a slim but interestingly shaped frame that showcased pure, honest beauty, despite not being as stereotypically structured as other heart throbs in Hollywood. 

Tim found himself stepping back again as Armie approached him with a python-esque look in his eyes.

“You haven’t touched yourself,” Armie acknowledged, whilst placing a hand on Tim’s waist, “I can tell.”

Tim stood still.

“N-no, I h-haven’t…” Tim looked at Armie’s mouth as he spoke, “You uh, you said that I wasn’t allo—“

Armie’s index finger pressed against Tim’s chest and then gently trailed downward, over the flatness of his stomach, where it rested just above his flaccid yet plump penis. 

Tim closed his eyes.

The warm, physical touch from Armie’s fingertips sent an explosion of goosebumps from the centre of the bottom of his spine, around his waist and down into the tip of his …

“Hm. You’re getting hard,” Armie’s blue eyes shot downward, “That’s … Interesting.”

Armie curled the warmth of his hand around Tim’s bare, stiffening cock, where he then slid his palms under Tim’s swollen balls.

Tim swallowed down nerves and then decided to replace them with a sudden, fierce confidence. 

“You know, it’s usually polite to *ask* someone to do something like that, before you do it.”

He glanced up at Armie, with an intentional smoulder.

Armie watched Tim’s jaw as he spoke, his hand still cupping Tim’s balls.

“I’ve touched you like this before,” Armie corrected, “Either on set, or in the basement last week.”

Tim’s confidence remained, this time with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“On set we were acting. In the basement, I wore underwear…”

Armie curled his grip around Tim’s balls and then slid his fingertips up Tim’s stiffening shaft.

Tim spoke breathlessly, “ … Th-this is … Different.”

Armie, using only the brush of his fingers, had now erected Tim’s penis fully.

“You want me to stop?” He asked.

Tim’s hips, waist, balls and cock now ached with hormones and the desperate want to release.

A want that Tim knew would soon become a need.

Tim felt warm.

He vibrated with gentle pleasure, and despite knowing his answer straight away, he couldn’t help but deliver it with a sense of defeat.

“No,” he shuddered.

Armie’s fingers slid away from Tim’s cock, leaving it wobbling mid-air.

Tim clenched his teeth as the potential relief revealed itself as nothing but a temporary tease.

Armie held Tim’s hand and lead him towards the giant double bed.

“Jump on, and lay on your back,” Armie ordered.

Tim’s heavy balls and thickened shaft brushed against the edge of the mattress as he climbed up, onto the bed, and lay down on his back.

He stared up at the linen roof to the four poster structure.

Armie watched Tim’s cock twitch a little, and then start to decrease in hardness, as the boy began to lose focus on his long-denied orgasm and instead started to wonder what might happen next...

Armie started by attaching Tim’s left ankle to the leather strap connected to the left bottom corner of the bed.

“This is what we call, ‘Classic Tickling’,” Armie explained.

Tim’s eyes looked over his chest, at his Tickler, who now cuffed his right ankle to the bottom right corner strap.

“Classic tickling?” He asked.

Armie moved around the side of the bed, his own arousal clear behind the tightly zipped-up fly of his chinos. 

“Yes. No fluff. No over-thought set up. No narrative. Just a bed, some bondage …” Armie began to strap Tim’s left wrist to the top left corner of the bed, “… And the simple goal to send the ticklee into a inconceivable state.”

Tim cleared his throat as he felt all remaining confidence disappear, after hearing Armie’s explanation.

Armie then tied Tim’s right wrist to the next leather cuff at the top right corner of the bed.

“Ho-how long is this one going to uh, going to go on for?”

Armie took another length of rope from the top right corner and opened up the next leather cuff attached to it’s end.

“Why,” Armie shot blue eyes to Tim’s crotch, “You’d rather be doing something else?”

Tim glared up at the ceiling as he wobbled his knees anxiously. 

“I've got a few ideas.”

Armie then strapped the leather cuff to Tim’s right forearm, just above his elbow, “Trying to talk me out of each session before they even start will never work, Tim. I assure you.”

Tim felt his armpit and right side stretch to full exposure.

“I, I just like to know wh—“

“—Remember what I said?” Armie interrupted, attaching Tim’s left arm to another strap, in just the same way as his right, “Lean into the not knowing. Embrace the lack of control.”

Tim sighed and closed his eyes.

He now lay, on his back, entirely naked and tied to the bed in a spread eagle position.

Armie stood back and admired the incredible opportunity before him. 

In that moment, an idea landed in his head.

Armie went back to Tim’s wrist restraints and with some adjustments, he loosened them a little.

Tim now found his arms, whilst still bound above and apart, were able to move inwards somewhat.

“Scratch your nose,” Armie ordered.

Tim blinked.

He then scratched his nose freely with his right hand, even though he had to pull it down towards his face and lift his head upward to do so.

“Perfect,” Armie announced.

Armie folded his arms and allowed his eyes to dart over his lee.

His eyes trailed over Tim’s naked flesh, his plump toes …

… His naive innocence.

Tim pulled at his wrist restrains, glancing up at them with resentment. 

Such movement, but such restriction, equally at the same time.

Tim then shifted his eyes down over his sensitive, exposed nipples, his stretched out ribcage and his now completely open armpits.

Tim peered between his spread apart legs, down to Armie, who stood at the foot of the bed.

“Please just … Just go slow, okay?”

Armie hid his laughter with the back of his hand.

“You’re begging before I’ve even touched you?”

Armie began to approach Tim, where he closed in on his right foot.

Tim began to squirm around on the bed.

“No no no, I just …” Tim began to giggle nervously, “… I k-know what you’re like …”

Armie smirked, “You have no idea what I’m like …”

Tim gasped as Armie began to dance fingertips over Tim’s right sole.

“W-what do you me—“

Armie increased pressure.

Tim threw his head back onto the pillow and glared upward with narrowed eyes.

Armie caught Tim’s big toe with a pinch of his thumb and index finger, in an attempt to keep his foot still.

“Tied naked, to a bed, in another man’s company. Did you ever think you’d do something like this, Tim?”

Tim cleared his throat and took in a big breath.

“F-first time for everything… ”

Armie knelt down on the carpet and slowly curled his arm around Tim’s right foot, locking it in place.

Tim peered over his chest. 

All he could see was Armie’s back.

Suddenly, he felt the warmth of dribble land over his toes.

“Wait, wait, i-is that your…?”

Armie continued to drench Tim’s foot with his own saliva, muttering a quick, “Yes,” as he allowed the thick lengths of spit to ooze over and between Tim’s toes.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the saliva roll down the sole of his foot. 

Armie then began to kiss around Tim’s curled outward toes. 

His lips parted, taking some of Tim’s toes fully into his mouth.

Tim took a quick wisp of air in through his lips.

His toes, tickled by the insides of Armie’s mouth, flexed around Armie’s muscular tongue.

Armie then added additional torture by tickling the saliva into Tim’s sole with his fingertips.

Tim bit his lower lip, ready to shout the word ‘FUCK’, but instead, a long ‘FFFFFF-ttttttt!’ noise spat out in it's place.

Tim arched his back as his right foot, trapped under Armie’s arm, endured a hyper-sensitive attack from firm fingers on the arch and a wet, sloppy tongue between the toes.

Armie felt his arousal stiffen as Tim kicked his foot, whilst it still remained partially in Armie’s mouth.

Armie’s fingers slid over Tim’s now wet sole, whilst the boy squirmed around over the large expanse of the towel covered mattress. 

Armie paused, filling the tiny silence by taking a small nip out of Tim’s Index Toe with the edges of his teeth.

“Ffffu—!” Tim winced, “—No,” he said sternly, “Don’t bite them… ”

Armie acknowledged Tim’s request but didn’t reply verbally.

Instead, he assessed the amount of saliva covering Tim’s right foot.

Shining, delicate and smooth.

Natural lubrication. 

“Magnificent,” Armie whispered.

Armie then swiftly pulled the hairbrush from out of his chino’s pocket, in the same practised elegance a cowboy would with his pistol.

He then placed the base of the brush against Tim’s right sole.

Tim’s leg jerked as he felt the familiar return of dreaded bristles.

“N-no, n-not that,” he coughed into his shoulder, “I’m not doing it.”

Armie laughed as he gently slid the brush up Tim’s foot.

“You’re not doing it?”

Armie had to tighten his armlock around Tim’s ankle as Tim kicked hard, not once, not twice, but three times.

“No!” Tim sounded determined, “Use … Use something else!” He cried.

Armie began to speed up the brushes application.

“Like what?” He asked.

Tim threw his head into the back of the pillow, “ANYTHING ELSE!”

Like something out of The Exorcist, Tim began to bounce and buck around on the bed, similar to a demon possessed, as Armie increased the pressure of the brush against Tim’s right sole.

He slid the brush up and down, over Tim’s toes and against Tim’s heel, until he realised that, actually, rubbing it from left to right against Tim’s arch is what really made the boy go insane.

“Fuck, fuck that ffffffffucking thing!” Tim flapped around over the towel, which now lay creased beneath him, “That fucking thing fucking sucks!”

Armie grinned in sadistic satisfaction as he watched Tim’s saliva drenched foot writhe around within his grasp.

“So,” Armie asked informally, “How was Central Park?”

Tim’s pounded the pillow repeatedly with the force of his own head.

“It was, i-i-it was, fucking, SERIOUSLY, you’re asking me tha—“

“—What’s wrong?” Armie continued to slide the brush up and down, left to right, up and down, left to right, “You don’t wanna chat?”

Tim’s once semi hard erection, now a floppy unbothered penis, wobbled around over his stomach as he propelled his waist into the air, and then back down onto the mattress.

“Yeah! Let’s chat, let’s fucking chat!” Tim buried his face into his right arm, biting down on skin.

Armie slid the brush one last time over Tim’s sole, hard and slow, to finish it off. 

Tim threw his head forwards and glared fiercely at Armie’s back.

Another beat of silence, this time filled only by Tim’s heavy breathing.

Armie uncurled his arm from around Tim’s cuffed ankle and then got up from his knelt position.

He could feel Tim’s stare burning into his shoulders.

Armie holstered the brush casually and then walked around the side of the bed.

Tim kept his eyes on Armie the entire time as he shuffled his naked body into a less creased up position. 

“You doing alright?” Armie checked.

Tim sniffed and nodded once as he flexed out toes still damp with saliva.  

Armie then climbed up onto the mattress. 

Tim’s head fell backwards as Armie removed the two white pillows his head had been resting on.

Tim’s eyes then widened as Armie positioned himself -behind- him.

Tim grunted in discomfort as Armie then knelt behind his head and shoulders.

Armie then pulled Tim further up the mattress, towards him, so Tim’s head rested in his lap.

Armie hooked his hands under Tim’s forearms and began to pull them towards him also. 

In their tied position, this meant the length of each of Tim’s arms were now straightened out in a stiffened position, with each of his elbows pressed against the tops of each of Armie’s thighs.

Tim offered Armie a few grunts as he tried to bend his arms, but his entire upper body had been splayed out and the wrist restraints remained tightly secured to each top corner of the bed. 

Armie looked down to the top of Tim’s head.

He ran his hand through Tim’s curls and ruffled up his hair. 

He pulled some strands down over Tim’s face, causing Tim to scrunch up his nose and shake his head.

“Fuck,” Tim looked at either of his arms, “F-fuck, this is … I can’t … I can’t *move* …”

Tim dug his heels into the mattress, desperately writhing around before the next phase of this session had even began. 

Armie watched Tim look up at him wide bulging, green eyes.

“Comfortable?” Asked Armie.

Tim’s head rolled around in Armie’s lap.

He could feel Armie’s hard on pressing against the back of his neck.

“Ugh, fuck, my … My arms …” Tim had never felt this restricted before, this vulnerable. 

Armie allowed Tim to feel the discomfort as he placed each of his hands carefully around each of Tim’s cuffed wrists. 

“You must feel pretty exposed…” He asked.

Tim nodded frantically.

Armie slowly wiggled his fingers across Tim’s palms.

Tim shook his hands and kicked his feet.

“Ticklish hands, too?” Armie smiled, “You’re the gift that keeps on giving, Timothée …”

Tim felt Armie’s fingers slide around the sensitive areas of his forearms. 

Tim lifted his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Damn,” he blurted, breathlessly, “… N-no.”

“No?” Armie’s fingers danced over and around Tim’s elbows, where they began to near his shoulders, “You have an idea what’s coming, don’t you?” 

Tim, eyes still shut, just shook his head from left to right, mostly in an attempt to remove the curls of hair from his face.

“I have a question,” Armie’s tickling fingers neared the sweaty depths of Tim’s pits, “Where do you *not* want me to go?”

Tim lifted his waist impatiently.

“Just … Just anywhere … Anywhere b-but my p-p-p …”

Armie’s fingers curled through Tim’s armpit hair.

“Your ‘peh, peh, peh’ … What’s a ‘peh, peh, peh’, Tim?”

Tim’s face twisted into manic hysteria as he began to thrash around the bed.

“I can’t hear you, Tim … ” Armie teased.

Tim slid from left to right as Armie tickled each of his pits with all ten wiggling fingers.

Armie watched Tim’s head of curls bounce and twist around on his lap, further increasing the girth of his own hard on beneath his chinos.

Tim rolled about as if on someone had put him on fast forward, his entire body convulsing at the ticklish attacks in the very centre of his pits. 

Armie pushed harder and faster, increasing the pressure of his fingertips, where he invaded the plump, most ticklish central muscle located under the depths of Tim’s armpit hair.

“NO GOD,” Tim heaved in a huge breath, “AGH STOP, IT’S TOO MUCH, fuck stop, fucking stop!”

Armie watched Tim’s cheeks grow red, the veins in the side of his head thicken. 

“JESUS,” Tim bounced around the mattress as Armie’s fingers slid out from his armpits and then began to dance over his sides and chest, “JESUS CHRIST!”

Armie trailed menacing fingertips over Tim’s structured ribcage, until he caught a glimpse of how delicately delicious Tim’s bare hips and naked waist looked, whilst bouncing around over the cotton towel.

So, Armie leant a little over Tim’s head and reached his tickling hands down to Tim’s stomach.

“Agh fuck, fuck no! Noo-nooo ugh-ughh…!” Tim growled in panic.

Armie then sent his hands over Tim’s waist and hips, grabbing at the soft white flesh as Tim thrashed his lower body around in a desperate attempt to escape Armie’s attacks.

Armie felt his cock harden further at the sight of Tim’s slim, smooth waist enduring such intense tickle torture. 

Armie offered the boy a break, knowing full well he’d return to that waist later …

… But for now he just circled Tim’s nipples with his index finger.

Tim groaned out in despair as a strong, uncomfortable ache had started to present itself in both of his biceps.

“Fuck,” he spluttered, “My, my arms …” He glared down at Armie’s fingers, noting his own nipples as they stiffened, “This p-pos … I ca-can’t … I can’t do th— … I-it’s starting to hurt …”

Armie took his index fingers away from Tim’s nipples and began to slide them carefully around the flesh between Tim’s armpits and collarbone.

Tim kicked his feet, “Fuck, no, no don’t, my, my armpits are … They’re *too sensitive* …”

Armie continued to tease Tim with the looming touch, “Stating the obvious there, kid.”

He then decided to see if he could get Tim to ignore the discomfort he felt within this position and go from how he felt now, to extreme heightened levels of ticklish mania, all within a few seconds.

Armie started by sliding his hands away from Tim’s armpits and down to his lower rib cage.

Tim bucked up and down, shaking the bed as he did so.

Armie tickled all over Tim’s sides, creating an immediate and sudden senseless laughter from Tim, the sort of reaction Armie would put down as a strong 8.

Then, Armie moved up to the area around Tim’s pecs.

“No, No, NO!” Tim started to scream, “NO STOP, STOP IT. MAN, COME ON.”

Wow, a strong 9.

The movements - hard.

The sound of the voice - almost threatening.

Armie could sense Tim’s hysteria as Armie, ever so slowly, took the tickling towards his pits.

The screams became more high pitched, that amazing waist, thrashing around far quicker …

“Now back to that armpit hair,” Armie declared.

Tim’s reaction scored a strong 10 - a fantastic level of ticklish mania, thanks to Armie, almost too relentlessly, actioning a severe amount of tickling into each of Tim’s pits, at the same time, until Tim started to show signs of inability to physically breathe.

“NOO, NO MAN FUCKING STOP I MEAN IT FUCKAGHAHAHAAAAH STOP, FUCKAAHAHAAAAAA!” 

Tim kicked his feet and threw up his hips,

And at one point he even tried twisting his head around in an attempt to bite Armie, on more than once occasion. 

Armie stopped.

Tim’s weight fell into the mattress.

He went from snapping crocodile to over-heated jelly, within seconds. 

Armie took his palms to Tim’s face and then slid them up over his maddened expression, back to his curls of hair, where he started to neaten them up casually.

Tim grunted again as the sharp ache continued to pull around his forearm and shoulders.

“A-Armie …” Tim licked his lips, “… My arms, this, this position is k-killing me, my armpits they’re, they’re too—“

Armie listened to Tim and acknowledged his discomfort.

“Let me guess,” Armie leant down and kissed Tim’s forehead, “They’re too sensitive?”

Tim could just about manage a floppy nod.

“Understood,” Armie gently rubbed the tips of Tim’s ears, “Now, let's explore the rest of you.”

Armie crawled out from behind Tim’s shoulders and then slid off the bed.

With Armie gone, Tim could allow his body to lay flat out, neatly on the mattress.

The relief he felt as the ache in his arms faded felt other-worldly.

Tim flexed out throbbing fingers as he decided to express a thought that had lingered amongst the madness in his head, over the past few minutes.

“ … You … You shhh-should’ve told me this was going to b-be … This intense …” 

Armie chuckled as he removed the seagull feather from his trouser pocket.

He then stood by the side of the mattress as he looked over Tim’s bound body.

“… I c-could’ve … Mentally prepared myself,” Tim huffed.

“Does your time off feel like it took place eons ago?” Armie asked, whilst twirling the feather around Tim’s left side.

Tim shuffled his body to the right, in an attempt to escape the itchy-ness.

“It f-feels like it never f-fucking happened,” Tim curled his fingers around the leather cuffs.

Armie took the feather up to Tim’s left armpit, where he dragged it through the sweat-soaked curls of Tim’s armpit hair.

“Don’t worry,” Armie assured, “You’ll get that time again.”

Tim pulled his hands inwards, where the looser bound restraints allowed some flexibility.

He clawed out fingers and wiggled them in desperation as he flapped his hands towards the feather.

Armie had allowed Tim just enough fighting room to think he’d be able to reach in and stop the tickling, but never actually succeed in doing so. 

“Fucking stop!” Tim flapped his hands, “Give me a fucking break already…!”

Armie raised his eyebrows, “Seeing as you asked so politely …”

He then twirled the feather around Tim’s flaccid cock, and then down to his heavy hanging balls.

Suddenly, Tim jolted upwards and with a wild look in his eyes, he focused down at the feather.

“No.” 

Armie felt a tug in his chinos.

A new spot, located.

The excitement bubbled in his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” 

Armie pretended to not know the issue.

Another beat of silence.

Tim shook his head as his eyes widened at the feather, now twirling around between the depths of his thighs.

Tim said nothing whilst pressing his lips together. 

“I think it’s about to go from intense to … Something else,” Armie continued the feathers twirl.

Tim tried to pull his knees together, but his ankles had been secured too wide apart.

The red over his cheeks deepened as a sudden and animalistic hysteria began to form around the corners of his mouth.

Tim made that ‘fffffftttttt—’ sound again - another attempt at the word ‘fuck’.

Then, he tried to say ‘shit’, but all that came out was ‘shhhhhhhhhhhhhh—’

Tim frowned with dangerous concern as eruptions of giggled laughter started to roll out of his throat, “Fu-huhuh-huhck, haahaha, Chri-hi-hi-hist, h-h-h-ho-ho-ho-ho-holy shhhhhhhhhh—” Tim started to shake his arms around as the feather continued to twirl and twirl around the insides of his thighs.

“Hm,” Armie, for a moment, paused the torture as he decided to investigate this incredible discovery further, “Yes, something else indeed ...”

Tim dropped his body weight back into the mattress with a bounce as he lay there, breathless and frustrated.

Armie walked around the bed and arrived at the bottom left corner.

Much to Tim’s surprise, Armie began to detach his left ankle.

Tim sat up a little and watched Armie start to release him.

Then, Armie did the unexpected …

… He pulled Tim’s leg above his own head.

Tim’s eyes widened as he felt his body positioning suddenly transform.

“Unff—” Tim grunted, “—What are you, what are y-you d—“

Armie then positioned himself so that he perched on the left side of the mattresses edge, by Tim’s torso, with Tim’s left leg now untied, and his calf tucked neatly behind Armie’s neck.

This position completely parted Tim’s thighs, as his right ankle remained tightly secured to the right corner of the bed.

His balls drooped down over the space of flesh between his cock and ass.

The area Armie had just explored with the feather now sat entirely exposed and spread apart, thirty centimetres away from Armie himself.

Tim began to shuffle about in trepidation.

He tried to pull his left leg back, or up over Armie’s head, but Armie’s strong physical structure blocked him from doing so.

So, it had no choice but to remain trapped uselessly behind Armie’s shoulder blades.

Tim yanked at his wrist restraints as Armie began to aim the feather, directly towards Tim’s taint.

“N-no, man, come on, man … That’s enough, that’s en—” 

Tim dug his right heel the best he could into the corner of the mattress, in an attempt to edge away from the incoming feather.

“Such an intimate area of your body, Tim. Never once explored by a man… ” Armie confirmed that Tim’s worst case scenario would be happening, by twirling the feather repeatedly against the sensitive, soft fleshy area of Tim’s taint, “… Until now.”

Tim arched his back and groaned heavily inward.

This was … Like Armie had only minutes ago foreseen … Something else.

A different type of tickling.

This wasn’t aggressive or firm.

It was soft and sharp,

It was constant, it was relentless, 

It was itchy, annoying,

Invasive and overwhelming.

Tim began to expel hysteria in the form of dribbled, breathless laughter.

That laughter continued into nasally, drawn out, moans of pure, unapologetic anguish. 

Jittered, heaving distress …

… Distress Tim would suck back in, and then expel outward, all over again. 

A strong 12. 

Maybe a 13, Armie thought.

He had taken Tim from one level to another, in just a matter of minutes.

His greatest achievement yet, as a Tickler.

Armie felt his excited smile expand into a satisfied, content grin.

“Oh boy,” Armie had his own mind blown by Tim’s visceral reaction to having this new spot so mercilessly explored, “You *really* can’t take this, can you?”

Tim shook his head frantically as he continued to splutter and spit out his attempts at the word ‘stop’, attempts that could only exit his lips in the form of foaming, saliva filled,

“ … ssssssstttttt—sssstttttt—-sssssssssssttttttooosssssssss ….”

This wasn’t laughter. 

This was pure, visceral, uncontrolled, escaping agony. 

Tim groaned outwards until his lungs were forced empty, then he breathed inward with hoarse desperation, with the singular purpose to fill his lungs up enough to attempt another ‘stop’.

“… pp-p-p-leeee-e-e-e-eeeeeease, ssssss-sssssttttttt-sssssssss …” 

Another large in-take of air, and then, “… Huhuhuhehehuhuhstopstop-stop-itstoomuch-itstoomuch …”

Armie continued to twirl the feather against Tim’s taint, now using his other hand to lift Tim’s balls, exposing more of the delicate, silky patch of flesh.

Tim lifted his shoulders off the mattress and focused on the centre of the beds linen roofing as the feather continued to torture the small expanse of flesh beyond overwhelming comprehension.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-fuckfuckfuhhhhck!” Tim’s insane grin and bloodshot eyes helped display an expression full of ‘wall hitting madness’ - an area within his mind he hadn’t wanted to revisit so soon.

Armie persisted in twirling the feather against Tim’s taint, at a now rapid rate.

Armie could feel Tim’s left leg push, slide and press against his back.

The bed shifted and shook as Tim pulled on his restraints and clawed flexing fingers in towards his lower stomach, as if willing his hands closer to the feather, as if he actually tricked himself into thinking he *might* just be able to reach in hard enough and grab at Armie's hand.

Armie tying him this way was torture in itself. 

And Tim hated him for it.

Armie had lead him into a insanity-riddled realm where Tim now only existed as a physical, controlled puppet with one singular goal - to simply endure this ticklish torment.

Nothing else mattered, but getting through this moment.

Nothing else mattered, but reaching the end of this session.

Nothing else mattered, but trying to catch enough breath to formulate words that Armie could understand.

But all that came out were flustered, disjointed, mumbled noises mixed with disjointed panic and spluttering.

Armie persisted. 

The feather twirled and twirled and twirled, it’s sharp edges brushing repeatedly, non-stop, over Tim’s taint and balls.

Tim felt his forehead cramp in a desperate ache. 

The skin of his face, stretched tightly due to the manic expression he had no choice but to constantly display, felt hot and moist as his increased heart beat began to force sweat out of his body.

“… nu-nu-nu-huhuhuhuhhahaghaghhstttttttttttttttttttt—sssssttttt…” 

*heave* 

“…p-p-peeeeeeeasegodstopIcantbreathIcantbreath, … ” 

Tim spoke with no more air, just dishevelled sounds mixed with shaking remains of violated energy.

The feather continued it’s torture, transforming Tim’s throat and neck into a thick, throbbing tube now only used to expel hysteria.

It was at that moment those two words presented themselves in the depths of Tim’s dehydrated brain.

‘New’

‘York’

Tim had questioned using his safe word, many times in previous sessions with Armie.

He had tactfully held the opportunity close to his chest knowing the chance to use it would roll over if he weren’t to use it within an individual session.

At this point in time, feeling the way he felt …

… After such aggressive pit, sides, hips and waist tickling …

And now this relentless focus between his thighs …

… Using his safe word was not only a necessity …

… It was a no brainer. 

Tim took in one huge breath of air, widened his eyes, stared through sweat and blurted out the words.

“NEW YORK!”

Armie raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

He then slowed down the feather tickling and gave Tim the chance to catch more oxygen.

Tim, frustrated that the tickling hadn’t entirely stopped as expected, began to thrash his waist around from left to right.

“NEW YORK!” He repeated, in a hoarse cry, “I SAID NEW YORK!”

The feather’s twirl fell into a flicker, then into a soft stroke, and then it finally stopped.

Tim heaved a huge breath inwards, filling his lungs with air almost immediately.

Then he repeated the same process several times, his stomach tight, his nipples erect. 

“Wow,” Armie stayed perched, but turned back to look at Tim, “Fuck, that was hot.”

Tim’s entire face displayed bright red cheeks, veiny forehead and flared nostrils.

Tears had filled his eyes, his lips were swollen and he had started to sweat so much that his thick curls of hair now clung damply to the sides of his head.

“Jesus, I think that was your most extraordinary moment yet,” Armie chuckled and gently brushed some curls away from Tim’s cheeks, “You even felt the need to use your safe word!"

Tim wiped his nose on his shoulder, unable to formulate words. 

Armie stayed in his position, whilst Tim’s leg remained trapped behind Armie’s shoulders.

“I bet you’re wondering, ‘Why did that just happen ... Why was that so hard to take?' …” Armie asked.

Tim didn’t nod, or speak, he just tried to reclaim his ability to breathe whilst ignoring the burning in his lungs.

“Well,” Armie pointed over the smooth, softness of Tim’s taint without touching it, “This area is called The Perineum, and it’s so unbelievably ticklish, because, beneath this patch of small nerve ending lies the prostate …”

Armie unhooked Tim’s leg from the back of his shoulders and dropped it lifelessly onto the mattress. 

He then stood and made his way to the large glass of water at the bedside table.

“… It’s your G Spot,” Armie explained, whilst picking up the glass.

He then knelt down on the mattress and aimed the glass towards Tim’s mouth, as if feeding a baby dinosaur, “One of the most sensitive areas of a male’s body.”

Tim took the water in clumsily, allowing it to spill over the corners of his mouth as he chugged the contents. 

Armie granted Tim the entire pint.

“Now, I noticed you could barely speak, throughout that … Ordeal,” Armie placed the empty glass back on the bedside table and then returned to his perched position, at the left edge of the mattress.

Tim didn’t lick water off his lips or chin, he just let it cool down his face and neck.

Armie grabbed Tim’s ankle and then lifted Tim’s leg into the same position as before.

Tim’s calf, once again, sat tucked behind Armie’s neck. 

“If that happens again, I want you to click your fingers, alright?” Armie readied the feather, "With both hands."

Tim closed his eyes and attempted a slow nod.

“Excellent,” Armie felt happy with the small break Tim’s safe word had allowed, “Now, where were we?”

Tim mumbled out another drool of desperate gibberish as Armie took the feather back to Tim’s taint.

The feather returned to its twirl.

Armie used his free hand to lift Tim’s penis and balls out of the way, completely exposing Tim’s perineum, whilst his other hand continued to twirl the feather against it.

“It’s a different sort of feeling, than having your feet or armpits tickled, isn’t it?” Armie asked.

Tim heaved inwards, this time deeper than ever, before sending out a shuddering, dribbled reply.

“… God-sssssSstop-stop-stop-stop-stop-stopit-sssssssssstttttttt …” 

His eyes glared down at the feather currently destroying him, whilst his unnatural grin continued to display clenched white teeth surrounded by lips painted with drool.

To fully pin back Tim’s balls, in an attempt to entirely expose the softness of the taint between Tim’s thighs, Armie had to place his palm over Tim’s cock.

As Tim’s waist writhed around over the mattress, friction occurred.

And the more Tim squirmed, the more his cock rubbed against Armie’s palm.

Tim, unintentionally and uncontrollably, began to harden.

The layer of sweat forming between Armie’s palm and Tim’s penis worked as a sort of lubrication, which only developed further the more Tim squirmed about.

The boy had been filled with so many hormones and had been so denied, that his body’s reactive sense of arousal had taken over.

Armie hoped this would happen.

He took the twirling feather away from Tim’s taint and travelled it torturously over towards his swollen, desperate-to-cum balls.

Then, Armie began to tickle up and down Tim’s now fully hardening shaft.

Armie glanced up at Tim’s red, insanity-riddled face.

“Had enough, kid?” He asked.

Tim nodded as fast as he could, whilst squeezing his eyes shut and expelling his three hundredth thousandth round of air in the form of dribbled laughter.

Armie returned his sadistic glare back to Tim’s cock.

The feather now twirled around Tim’s helm, which began to shine and protrude out from his foreskin.

“Wanna use your safe word again?” Armie asked, “You have two more chances, if my calculations are correct.”

Tim babbled out something Armie didn’t understand as he shook his head ferociously from left shoulder to right shoulder.

“Fair enough,” Armie had now tickled Tim’s penis into a full, rock solid erection.

He held onto the girth firmly, like a gear stick, as his other hand continued to send the feather around Tim’s taint and balls, in an effort to drive him further more into the realms of ticklish madness.

“…fffffff-huhhuhuh-huhuhuh-huhuhuhckkkkstop-stop-stop-stop-stop-stop…” 

*heave*
 
“… godgodgod-jesus-sstopstopstop-stopstopleasssseeeeeeae-heheheeasssestopstopstop…” 

*heave*

“See, Tim, no matter how much you try to control it, this feather, this feather has more power than you or I will ever have …” Armie twirled the feather faster, up and down Tim’s girth, to the point where Tim started to produce pre-cum.

With his need to relieve himself at desperate heights, Tim took tear-filled eyes from Armie, to the feather, to his cock,

And then back to Armie, then the feather, then his cock …

Tim acknowledged, amongst the need for the tickling to stop, the return of the dull ache forming once again around his hips and waist …

… A maddening mix of pleasure and mind blowing, ticklish agony.

Tim’s stomach, forehead, left thigh and shoulders were now entirely cramped up.

His cock, throbbingly hard.

His throat, dry as the Sahara.

Armie tightened his grip on Tim’s cock as he continued to twirl the feather over Tim’s taint.

“You had no idea, did you?” Asked Armie.

Tim heaved inwards and then expelled his answer in the form of gibberish giggles.

“Whaahuhuhuhaahuhuhauhuhauh-huhuhuhuhhuhahahahahaaaaat?”

“Two things,” Armie announced, “One, you had no idea that today would be the start of *the most* intense two days of your life …”

Tim’s eyes widened as his bucking hips continued to push his twitching cock further in and out of Armie’s sweating grasp.

“… And two,” Armie spoke casually and politely, as the feather continued it’s twirl, “Two, that I have decided to give you your orgasm…”

Armie pulled Tim’s cock towards the surface of the mattress, and then let it go, allowing it to smack loudly back against Tim’s smooth, flat stomach. 

Armie then held back onto Tim’s rock solid girth as the feather persisted in it’s violating twirl.

Tim threw his head back and fourth, he dug the heel of his right foot into the mattress, he acknowledged the pre-cum dribbling down his shaft …

“But,” Armie slid the feather neatly between Tim’s heavy balls, “I’m only going to allow it to happen, if *I* can be the one giving it…”

Tim’s eyes shifted to Armie, then the feather, then his cock and then back to Armie, all whilst he rolled hysterical noises out of swollen lips. 

Slowly, the feather stopped it’s tormenting twirling and gradually fell into a gentle up and down movement, around Tim’s thighs. 

Tim’s head fell back into the mattress as he shot a pained look at the linen ceiling draped above the four poster bed he lay tied to. 

He licked his lips as he heaved in and out.

“And I’d like it to happen during our next session,” Armie declared.

Tim continued to squirm - as much as the feather had slowed down in it’s torment, it’s presence alone still tickled.

For the first time in a while, Tim found the energy to shape out words.

He also felt deserving in asking if his orgasm would be something given quickly, especially after all he’d been through in the past hour, two hours, three…?

“A-are you …” *cough, splutter, cough* “… Are you go-gonna … “ Tim’s tongue hung out of his mouth as he willed the feather to be removed from such an intimate area of his body, “… E-edge m-m …?”

“Oh, I’m edging you right now, Timothée,” Armie corrected, “I’ve edged you since I interrupted your attempt to masturbate in your bedroom, before the weekend. I’ve edged you since I found out you haven’t cum in over two weeks. I edged you in the basement, when you hung there erect and desperate, within the confines of your underwear,” Armie felt Tim’s body stiffen, the quicker he spend up the feather’s twirl, “You’re ready to explode, aren’t you?”

Tim moaned as he twisted his waist from side to side,

The towel beneath him now lay soaked in his sweat.

“The good thing is, when it happens, it’ll be incredible. Potentially, the most erotically important moment of your life…” Armie now spoke in a whisper as he sent the feather back down to Tim’s taint.

Tim groaned in agony as his hard on continued to throb in Armie’s grasp.

“Go on,” urged Armie, “Say yes. Agree to me doing it for you, and I’ll stop.”

Tim wrestled with the idea as his tickle torture continued.

He could get Armie to stop but simply saying his safe word again.

But that would only allow another thirty seconds or so break.

Armie’s tone suggested that if he said yes to this, Armie would end this session right now.

And that was something Tim wanted, more than anything.

Tim didn’t have time to question if he were ready to be so intimate with another man.

If he were ready to allow someone to toy with him, in such an erotic way.

More erotic than this?!

Tim would *have* to be ready.

He’d make it so.

“YES,” Tim screamed into the air.

His first fully structured word since he yelled ‘New York’.

Armie stopped the torment.

He wiped away some sweat from his own forehead and then took a moment to admire the length of Tim’s cock, standing so erect beside the softness of the feather.

Armie took in a breath as he soothed Tim’s shaking body by stroking his mostly hair-less balls, taint and lower stomach.

All Armie could hear was Tim, sounding like he had just swum five hundred lengths.

“Huff, huff, huff … Huff, huff, huff …”

Carefully, Armie took Tim’s calf away from behind his head.

Tim’s leg had left a heavily drenched area of sweat over the back of Armie’s neck.

He then laid Tim’s leg out gently on the mattress.

Tim’s entire weight fell into the sweaty confines of the towel.

Armie acknowledged Tim's destroyed, exhausted display.

“You are tickle torture, personified,” Armie announced.

Tim’s toned stomach lifted up and down at a rapid rate.

“P-please… Please …” Tim closed his eyes, “… No m-more … I ca …”

"Bravo, Timothée,” Armie confirmed, “You excelled, more than ever.”

Armie got to his feet and walked away from the bed, “I think you earned some of that ten mil today, kid.”

Tim lay panting as he watched Armie head back into the walk in wardrobe.

Tim shifted a little upwards where he reached his head towards his right hand and rubbed away some emotion from his nose. 

“I’m fuc… Fucking … I can't thi-think …” Tim lay flat out in a star fish position as his body re-filled with air, “… This is, this is insa—“

“—You think it's over?” Armie asked, from behind the wardrobe door.

Tim slowly lifted his head.

“You’re t-telling me it isn’t…?” He wished he could close his mouth but his jaw hung open.

Armie came out from the walk in wardrobe and started to head back to the bed.

“Not in the way you might think.”

Tim winced in aching agony as he attempted to pull at his wrist restraints.

He tried to pull his feet towards him.

“No, man, I can’t…” Tim shook his head firmly as he glared at Armie, “I’m done. Please. Come on. S-seriously.”

When Armie arrived at the bedside, he presented something to Tim by holding out his hands. 

In Armie’s palms lay a medium sized, shining black ring.

Tim eyed the device quietly.

The ring, around the size of a large coin, was made out of a black rubber and could be stretched bigger or larger.

It appeared unthreatening … Just a shape with a hole in the middle.

Is this what Armie had stored in that random, mysterious Box?

“Is … Is that what I think it is?” Tim asked.

Armie knelt down and carefully curled his hands around Tim’s cock and balls.

Tim jerked in surprise, but also concern, at the thought of more tickling between his thighs. 

“It's a cock ring,” Armie announced, “And you’re going to wear it, until I take it off.”

Tim closed his eyes as Armie’s returning touch felt more sensual than threatening.

His handling of his balls and cock, whilst applying the cock ring, felt gentle and considered.

This hardened Tim once again, something he willed not to feel, simply because he knew the stiffer he’d get, the more erect the cock ring would keep him once attached. 

Armie pulled the cock ring over Tim’s shaft and around around his plump, now throbbing balls.

Tim shivered.

“H-how long for?”

Armie slid his fingertips away from Tim’s cock, allowing it to wobble slightly as his touch left Tim.

He then decided to give Tim some clarity, as a reward after such a gruelling session.

“Till tomorrow morning.”

Tim looked down at the cock ring now strapped around his throbbing girth. 

Drying curls of hair dangled over his face.

Armie took out an iPhone sized black remote control from his chinos pocket.

The control had various switches and buttons decorating it’s plastic surface.

Tim scowled at the remote.

“What the f—“

Armie pressed the top button with his thumb.

Btzzzzzzzzzz-zzzzzz-zzzzzzz …

The cock ring began to vibrate.

Tim closed his eyes and rolled his hips in distress.

Tim’s cock swayed from side to side.

He pulled at his wrist restraints.

His hands, once again, felt just about able to reach over his stomach, where his fingers flexed towards the vibrating device …

… But he couldn’t grab it, he couldn’t snatch it off.

He couldn’t touch himself.

Tim clenched his fists.

The cock ring sent vibrations through Tim’s taint and balls, stiffening his cock further into a now rock-solid hardness.

Tim fell back into the bed as he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth.

Armie stood, dominant and in control, at the bedside.

He pressed another button, this time increasing the level of vibration.

BtttttzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZ—

Tim’s waist lifted off the sweat-riddled towel.

His hands, once again, clawed through thin air at an attempt to now not even touch the cock ring, but to instead touch himself. 

Tim wiggled desperate fingers towards his own tall standing erection.

But they’d never reach his arousal, unless the straps broke, and Armie was too much of an expert to let that happen.

Armie grinned.

“Excruciating, isn’t it?”

Tim threw his arms back to the corners of the bed.

“Please, man, this is…” Tim chuckled as he tilted his head, “I mean …” He raised his eyebrows in an effort to describe the situation, “… This is totally unnecessary, it’s, man it’s … Come on…” Tim looked at Armie, “… Come on? Please?”

Armie smiled and pressed the buzzer again.

This time, the vibrations went harder and faster.

Tim’s cock hardened so much that it began to twitch. 

He dug his heels into the mattress and buried his face into his shoulder.

The tip of Tim’s cock began to produce pre-cum, once again.

And that was when Armie decided to switch off the cock rings vibration.

BZZZZZZZ-zzzzzt—!!

Tim lay confused, distressed and exhausted over a once dry, but now soaked towel.

“You’ll sleep naked, tonight,” Armie spoke with assertion as he pocketed the remote.

Tim looked at either of his wrists.

“W-wait,” He then glance down to his fully erect cock, “You’re gonna untie me, right? I’m not, I’m not staying like this all—“

Armie chuckled as he began to untie Tim’s left wrist.

“That would be too easy.” 

As Tim’s left arm fell free, he immediately went to go and touch himself.

Armie grabbed Tim’s wrist in mid-air.

“No.”

Tim pulled his hand back towards him.

“What? I don’t understand, I can’t even tou—”

Armie then went down to Tim’s feet, where he began to unstrap his ankles.

“—You’ll 'rest' in your own bed, of course. With your ankle strap on … And the cock ring still attached.”

Armie then unstrapped Tim’s right hand.

With both hands free, Tim sat up on the bed whilst trying his hardest not to address the twitching strength poking out between his recently discovered, hyper ticklish thighs. 

Armie continued his explanation, speaking with a deep tone that meant Tim couldn’t question him, even if he wanted to.

“You aren’t allowed to cum, you aren’t allowed to touch yourself. Until I do. And believe me, having your hands so free to do so will be far more torturous than having them bound…”

Tim watched Armie’s mouth as he said the words, “This way, you have to control yourself.”

Tim lowered his head and tucked his hands under his armpits, in an attempt to keep them away from his problem.

“Why … Why are you doing this?” Tim croaked, “Is this … Is this edging? Because it sure as hell isn’t tickl—“

“—Oh, you’d rather my feather get to know your taint better?”

“—No!” Tim held his hands up, “Fuck, no. I’m just saying, this is… “ Tim bit his lip as his cock refused to de-harden, with the cock ring wrapped so tightly around it, “ … T-this is … Tonight is gonna be—“

“—It’s going to be torture, Tim, to put it bluntly. And that’s The Agreement, that’s what you signed up for. I clearly stated there would be a few surprises…” Armie stepped away from Tim and folded his arms as he admired the beauty of Tim’s shaking arousal, “ … And believe me, once I’ve allowed you to cum, you’ll be thanking me for doing this, instead of hating me, like you do now.”

Tim shook his head and sniffed inward quietly.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

Armie stood unconvinced. 

Tim sighed out some shuddered affliction.  

In an effort to get the session he had just endured to end, he had been hysterically lead into allowing Armie to give him his orgasm, on Armie’s terms.

Armie’s terms being… This.

A torturous situation in it’s own right, one that didn’t involve feathers or hair brushes, lotion or fingers …

… Just the simplicity of a black, rubber device, and the remote control in Armie’s hands.

Tim had lay too bound and sweaty to even ask the right questions at the right time.

He just wanted the torment to stop.

And now, he sat here, naked, with pre cum drooping off the edge of his cock and landing on the towel scrunched up beneath him.

Armie smiled as he watched Tim’s eyes flicker from left to right in thought. 

Tim took in a determined breath. 

I can do this, he thought. 

He’d just have to get through the rest of the evening, and then tonight, and then tomorrow, and then …

“Remember Tim…” Armie spoke with warning, “… ‘This’ is what I do. It’s what I live for. It’s what I breathe … It’s how I exist… It’s every part of me, my mass, my daily thought process… ” He stepped towards Tim, his tall structure overshadowing him, “… I will know if you’ve relieved yourself. I will know if you’ve taken the cock ring off. So, don’t even try…” Armie took his index finger to Tim's jaw, where it rested under his chin, “… Or else.”

The words ‘or else’ were enough to make Tim understand. 

He took Armie’s recent advice, and leant into this new scenario, despite how tormenting it would be.

“Promise me?” Armie pressed.

Tim nodded just the once.

“I promise.”

***

Tim got dressed and, with cock ring still on, sat down with Armie on the living room sofa. 

They watched several movies throughout the evening whilst drinking beers.

They ordered Chinese from their favourite take-out …

… Armie went back to being Armie again, for a full six hours.

Until Timothée went to bed.

Ordered to sleep naked, with his left ankle strapped to the corner of the mattress, Tim lay in darkness, draped by bedsheets, as Armie closed the door and locked it behind him.

After such a brutal session, Tim fell asleep quite quickly, despite his hard on returning gradually.

Throughout the night, Tim woke up time and time again, to the feeling of intense vibration rolling through his re-hardening cock, controlled externally by the remote in Armie’s hands, on the other side of Tim’s bedroom walls.

Tim moaned into the pillow, he bit the bed covers, he acknowledged the pre cum oozing out of his twitching manhood …

… Just when he thought Armie would continue the cock rings vibration and allow him to ejaculate now instead of tomorrow, the cock ring would shudder to a stop …

… Leaving Tim desperate for time to hurry up, as he lay in a naked, angered mess, surrounded by nothing but nighttime.

TCTLR continues in Chapter Thirteen - ‘X’ …