Under the Anesthetic (by: Dman)
Twenty years old, and already I was going to the hospital. What a way to start my fall semester (and last) before I got my associates degree. I had been working hard, and apparently, too hard. I had been having constant ear-infections in my right ear for the past semester or two, and finally decided to get help on it. My ears have always been shabby, but apparently, whether it was stress, working too hard, or just my luck; I needed to have something done about this problem.
So I went into a specialist and he said the dreaded word: Surgery. Let me explain. I hate hospitals, I hate doctors, and I HATE surgery. For some reason, my body just cant handle the thought of any of those three; and to COMBINE them all in one!? No no, that wasn’t for me. But apparently it had to be done, in order to prevent the constant infections, my specialist thought that ear-tubes would help. A simple, outpatient procedure (So I was told), that would greatly improve my problems with my right ear.
So here I was, seven in the morning driving to the hospital, awaiting what was to come. I arrived and checked in, and had to do all the wonderful vitals that are required. Name: Jake Troski (gotta love the Polish names). Weight, 180, height, 6’1”. A slender, not overly-muscular dirty blonde kid, with ambitions of becoming a computer designer. I was somewhat nerdy, what can I tell you. Apparently that hadn’t helped me in the dating department either. Being gay alone was tough on me, but having to try and find dates with civilized people? I spent more time studying, thank God, then searching for an acceptable boyfriend.
I got settled into my room, had my friend come over for moral support (since she’d be the one driving me home when I was able to leave); and put on the fashionable hospital gown, wearing only my lucky red briefs underneath. I sat in the hospital bed, waiting.
Finally, a knock came at the door. And what a sight that entered the room…tall, dark (he must have been mixed race, I guessed) with a half an inch of hair growing out of his head. He must have just graduated medical college, because he WAS wearing that tacky white coat…but it didn’t look so tacky on him! He had a warm smile, as I was about to see; and the eyes! Those little oval frames of him sure didn’t hide those eyes. He was a cleanly shaved man, slender, and couldn’t have been THAT much older than me. At least he didn’t look so.
“Hi” he smiled at me, and suddenly I thought this operation might not be so bad….
“I’m Dr. Richards; I’ll be your anesthesiologist. I like to see patients before surgery just to give them a little reassurance, and let them know what we’ll be doing during the operation.” He held up his clipboard that must have contained my information, looking at it briefly, then looking back at me-
“So you’re getting some inner-ear tubes put in. Easy and simple. I also was warned that you have quite a bit of nerves when it comes to hospital visits, you have absolutely nothing to worry about”. And there came that smile again…I felt my heart racing faster…
“So Jake, is it ok if I sit here and chat with you for a minute?” Dear God, don’t ever leave, I thought.
“Sure” I responded, my voice shakier than I had thought it was previously…
He sat down on the bed, at my side, on the very edge. Damn, couldn’t get him to come closer, my luck. Oh well, as my mind raced with the possibilities of planning a future wedding, I was interrupted once again.
“So let me explain. According to your records you have had some problems with sedatives and pain killers before. Thankfully, you won’t be needing much of either for this procedure. We’re just going to put you out for a little while, make a small incision into your ear, and then roll you into recovery. We’re going to use a different type of anesthesia than we normally would, however, due to your previous problems with sedatives. Don’t worry though- I’ll be standing close by to make sure you’re alright”
I heard myself chuckle nervously in what I thought was a coy, sly manner. It must have come out like a teenage fangirl, however, because he simply looked back down at my chart, smiling as he did. He got up once again, and began walking away. He stopped at the foot of my bed, placing his hand near the bedframe, but accidentally knocked his hand to my foot, and I drew it away quickly, resisting the urge to chuckle. He looked at me with curiosity.
I was growing hot in the face though. I’ve always had a bit of a foot fetish; and the second his hand went to my foot, it didn’t take long for something to “stand to attention”. The reaction was pretty much immediate, and it wasn’t exactly easy to hide in a cloth gown. I’m a horny teenager, what can I say? As his eyes drew upwards from my feet, to meet my eyes, I thought for a flash of a second he had actually looked at my…no, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t care to see that. But his face was once again beaming at me with that smile, and a slightly raised eyebrow.
“A little ticklish?”
I nodded, my face growing hotter, placing my hands to my waist hoping to conceal my little trooper.
“Ah, don’t worry about it, my mistake.” He looked down at my feet for a moment.
“Those are some impressive sized dogs of yours! No wonder I bumped into them! What are they?”
“Twelve and a half” I smiled, and instantly my mind flooded with new possibilities of what this man could do to me.
“Well anyways, we’ll see you in the operating room! You’ll be fine, and I’ll be here to see how you are when you wake up.” He closed the door, and suddenly I realized that waking up to Dr. Richards wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Hell, this hospital visit might turn out better than I expected! Ten minutes later, a nurse came in, and wheeled me away. It wasn’t long before I saw his masculine jaw protruding above me, placing the mask over my nose. Even through his face mask I could see his cheekbones rise into a smile. God, that was a seductive smile. I stared into his eyes.
“Just close your eyes, count backwards from 100, and we’ll see you in a while! “
100…
99….
98…
This wasn’t working…
97…
97…
Did I repeat that twice?
96…
Was that out loud?
95…
94…
98…
9-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………..
I awoke in what I thought was a blink of an eye, but it couldn’t have been. Speaking of which…where was I? I didn’t remember my hospital room looking like this, and I felt funny, like I was all alone or something. But that couldn’t have been. I looked out the window near my bed and saw that it was pitch black out. Pitch black? I had gone in to surgery in the afternoon…how on earth was it pitch-black out if the operation was so simple and short? Did anesthesia keep you knocked out for a long time? But then I looked groggily down and with a panic realized I was restrained to the bed. Completely. My ankles were bound to either post of the twin-sized hospital bed, and my arms were bound in the same fashion. I was about to have a panic attack when I heard his voice again.
“Ah, so you’re finally awake. Good!”
I saw Dr. Richardson walk around my bed and as usual he had his face glued to a clip-board.
“Where in the hell am I? Where have I been and what is going on!?” I felt my voice shake and begin to rise in anger. There had to be some kind of explanation to this…
“Now now, lets not get too excited,” he spoke. “You’re still in the hospital, never left. I just had you moved down to a separate hall. Infact, an abandoned one. This section of the hospital is going under renovations next week and we had everything cleared out a while back. It’s nice and secluded here. Not a person near this area. You’ve been asleep for several hours, I interlaced a pretty good sedative into your anesthesia.
“But why!?”
“I wanted us to have some…private time…” I saw his grin once again, and he set the clipboard down fully this time. Not breaking eye contact.
I was panicking now. “Just tell me what in the HELL you plan to do, and WHY you’re doing it!”
And then, the smile grew into a full grin.
“Oh I don’t think you’ll have too many objections to what I’m going to do. At first at least. When I saw those feet of yours I could hardly keep my eyes off them. I wanted to see them, to feel them. When we were in the hospital room and my hand brushed up against them, and I saw your reaction, I knew that I had to have some fun with you. And judging by the tent I saw in your pants, I don’t think someone minded too much.”
It was just then that he began raking a single finger nail up and down my soles, scratching at the sensitive rosy flesh. My feet felt slick as I began to giggle and stare right back into his eyes, not breaking contact.
“Ticklish feet, hey? I guess we already discovered that little secret. How do you like the lotion I added to them? It makes the sensations a little worse, don’t you agree?” He began scribbling all five nails up and down my arches, in spider-like motions, as I felt his nails hit every bump and line on my sensitive undersides to my feet. I threw my head back and chuckled in earnest. His grin never faded as he lifted his brow, staring at me. I couldn’t help it. I sprang wood again right infront of him.
“See? You’re not going to mind this at all.” He then added hand number two to the mix, scribbling up and down both of my ticklish feet, while one set of nails dug in right under my toes (my absolute worse spot), his other hand was focusing on the balls of my feet, seeing which one would make me laugh harder, as he alternated. I began chuckling heavier as my breathing picked up.
“Whaha..whahat areheha youohoho going tohoho dohoho!?” I laughed through his merciless raking of my feet.
“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” He said, his voice lifting with gentle innocence. “I’m going to keep you here most of the night and tickle every inch of you. I’ll tickle your feet, your thighs, your pits and your sides. And whichever spots tickle the most, I’ll be sure to tickle twice as much. I’ll have you laughing and sweating like crazy by the end of the night, and judging from that rather noticeable protrusion swelling from your pants, I don’t think you’ll fight me too much on it. But if you do, well, these restraints sure did come in handy then, I guess.” He stopped tickling me at once, as I began panting lightly, closing my eyes, wondering now with a bit of excitement on what was to come. I saw him pick up a Wattenberg wheel, twirling it slowly in his fingertips.
“If you’ve seen old medical movies I’m sure you’re familiar with this little gadget. I don’t think waiting around to explain in more detail is needed, so I say we dive in.” He lowered the device and began fiercely raking it up and down my soles. That did it. I threw my head back and began bucking in laughter as he smiled along with me, he figured the weak spot under my toes was the best attack, and held them back with one hand, and raked the device up and down with the other, back and forth, sawing over that spot until I saw stars. Then he’d stop for only a moment to do the same to my other foot. Alternating back and forth.
“Ticklish under these sexy little toes, aren’t we?” His grin never faded.
“OHohogodhahahah yehehehashshehahahahahahaa!” I was laughing my fool head off, but I was loving every single minute of it. Being at this man’s mercy was not something I was exactly against. Had you un-restrained me I might have just stayed there. I’m glad I was though- I was bucking around the bed quite a bit and he seemed to be enjoying it, because every second that I seemed to be in agony, the more it fueled him to attack more wildly.
“That’s right, Jake, laugh!” He began going up and down my left arch with the wheel while running those wicked smooth hands up and down my right, scribbling slowly while the wheel attacked fiercely. I thought this was going on forever, but god, I loved it. I was his tickle toy, and the dominance in him knew it, because after another fifteen minutes on my feet, he stopped. He walked around my bed, out of my range of vision, but at once I knew where he had gone. I felt him pull my hospital gown off, revealing only my plaid boxers, and I could sense him standing right behind me, leaning over my bed, and felt his warm hands being placed directly over my darkly haired armpits.
“You know what I think?” He whispered into my ear. “I think that you love this so much, I could take these restraints off, and have you wanting more. I think you can’t get enough of my dark hands running up and down your body, the images of it are driving you wild. I can hear that just from the panting, and I’m not even tickling yet.”
I felt his fingertips reach into my pit hair, resting there with firm pressure, as I gulped.
“I think I could tickle you all night and get away with it. I could have you begging for anything by the end of tonight, and if I had to place money on it, it’d be more tickling. But let me re-assure you. By the time I’m done, you’ll do anything to make me stop.”
I felt my heart racing, the excitement was driving me wild. I wanted it. I wanted to feel his hands glide along my sides and up and down my chest, making me completely at his mercy. Oh God, I wanted it bad. This man was obviously experienced with tickle play.
“Tell me you want it”. He spoke with control in his voice, and a hint of satisfaction as he whispered it into my ear.
“I..I want it.” I stammered. He chuckled to himself.
“What do you want?” His voice was curious, as if he had no inkling as to what was about to happen.
“Tickle me”. I couldn’t believe I had said that. My heart was pounding.
“What was that?” He asked again.
I broke completely then and there.
“Please, tickle me! Tickle my pits and my sides, run your fingers up and down my feet and don’t stop! Please, tickle me senseless!”
Then I felt his fingers dig full force into the hair of my pits, swirling in circles around and around, and as I once again threw my head back to begin laughing uncontrollably, I saw him looking down into my eyes once again, a full grin placed on his expression as he took glee in finding all the new ways to assault my body and make it his.
I don’t know how long he attacked my pits for. This man was not a gentle tickler by any means, sure he would poke and prod, but most of the time he went for full-brutal-force. I laid in that bed for what must have been half an hour while he relentlessly stroked his hands proffesionally around my pits. Up and down, scribbling with the nails, pulling at my curled pit hairs. He kept provoking me and teasing me, hoping to make my situation worse- which he was very good at. He would lean in, inches to my face, and over my hysterical howls of deep, forced laughter, say things-
“Tickle tickle tickle!”
“Woah, someone’s got some ticklish pits, heh?”
“Tell me where it’s worse, in the center, or on the sides!”
“I’m not gonna stop, Jake. I’ll tickle you all night long!”
Oh god this was torture. After the attack on my pits he hopped ontop of me, straddling my sides and working those wicked fingers and nails along my sides, digging into me with no mercy.
“Nohohohehaha stahahahaplehehaha plhehehehleeheheaseheahahaa!” I screamed, as I tried to buck him off of me, but he was firmly planted ontop, and he had no intentions of leaving. My body was coated in a thin layer of sweat as I felt the sheets begin to stick to my backside. But when he dug into my hips, that’s when I arched completely off of the bed, and screamed louder than I had the entire night. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. He quickly hopped down and walked out of the room for a moment, returning later with…a feather duster.
I was hoping to see if this worked on you. Not too many guys are feather ticklish, but that waistline of yours might be the golden ticket! He flickered it through the air, as if sending the tickling vibrations to me. I shuddered. Feathers were a big weakness to me. The thought of something so harmless being used to torture a man left me feeling vulnerable and extremely desperate. It was like an ultimate control over my body, to make me quake with a feather’s touch. I think he picked up on the excitement in my face, as well as my slight terror. He loved it.
“Now,” he spoke, walking towards me gingerly as if discussing a pleasant subject. “Let’s just test out how sensitive this little waist of yours is with a few ostrich feathers from the Janitor’s closet stroking up and down it.”
The soft gray plumes stroked around my waist slowly, teasingly, making me writhe and squirm under his now gentle touch. He smiled more once again, and began dusting my waistline, side to side, each time he passed over my bellybutton, swirling the duster a couple of times in it. I began to chuckle in earnest, giggling and staring right at him. Then he placed the plumes to my side, right on my hip bone. I lost it.
“Shihihihihththehahahaha!” My laughter increased as he smiled wider, stroking up and down on just the spots on my hips, back and forth, left to right, small tight circles, then small strokes up and down, side to side. I was completely at the feather’s mercy, and his.
“Plehehehasehahaha nohohohomorehehahaha!” I was loosing control, something as minor as a feather was sending me over the edge, and if he didn’t stop, it’d be in more ways than one too. He straddled my waist once again, digging his thumb in circular motions, firmly into my right hip bone, while he kept the duster focused over my left, up and down, up and down.
“I think I’ll tickle you right here for the rest of the night” He spoke wickedly. “And then right when you think you’re going to pass out, I’ll stop.” He stopped tickling, I panted and heaved, sweat covering my brow.
“Then I’ll do THIS”. He drilled both of his thumbs straight into my hipbones, and I lost it. I screamed and laughed harder and louder than I could have imagined. While he sat ontop of me, in his white labcoat, his glasses bounces around his face, as he laughed in unison with me, at my ticklish agony, never letting the pressure up on his skilled finger-tips.
“NOHOHOHOHOMOREHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” I screamed between hysterical sobs of laughter, I could feel tears forming in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks.
“Beg for it to stop!” He picked up the duster again and placed it under my pits. While I’m not exactly feather ticklish there, the deviant image of him doing all of this to me at once was more than I could handle, and I laughed just as much from the psychological torture as I did the physical tickle torture.
“OhohoGODHEAHAHA PLEHEHASEHAHA STAHAHAP, I’LLDHEHA DOOHOHOHOEHEHE ANYTHINHINGHAHEAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“Anything?” He laid down, that round butt facing me, as his face was level with my feet, lying ontop of me. I felt the stiff bristles of a toothbrush begin raking up and down my soles, with special attention to the toes, holding them in place.
“ANYTHINGHEAOHOHOHOHO!”
He stopped abruptly. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was making me nervous. The tent in my boxers was raging and I wasn’t exactly sure how much more I could handle. This was getting intense even for my blood. But Dr. Richardson sure seemed to be enjoying it. I could see the faint outline of something in his labcoat, telling me that I wasn’t the only one with man-hood issues at the moment. He leaned over, placing his fingertips at my hipbones once again.
“OH god no!”
“If you want me to stop, you’ll have to pass out!” And then he tickled. And tickled. And tickled.
His fingers and thumbs drilled into my hips, I felt the feathers raking up and down my sweat-covered chest. He returned to my feet a few more times throughout the night, re-applying lotion to them. I didn’t pass out until nearly three in the morning, after a couple hours of non-stop, intense tickling. The last thing I remember was him standing at my side, working specifically on that hip bone of mine, drilling both hands into my right flank, kneading and massaging it, between scribbles and digs. I faintly heard him say to himself,
“My little tickle toy.” Grinning again.
My sobs of laughter only gave him the motive to make me suffer more, and that was the last I remember. I wokeup the next morning in my old room, un-restrained, horny as hell. He was at least a gentleman and didn’t take advantage…well, in some ways at least. My friend came in to pick me up and I had thought I dreamt the whole thing, had it not been for the red marks and scratches all over my body, and my sore rib cage, when looking in the mirror that morning to take a much needed piss. I’m surprised I hadn’t wet myself.
I was wheeled out of the hospital and passed Dr. Richardson in the hall. His grin was a whole new meaning of wicked to me, and it was hard-wired to a certain spot at that time. I felt my heart flutter and beat rapidly. He shook my hand and thanked me.
“What was he thanking you for?” Asked my friend, as we got into the car to drive me home.
“Oh probably because I was so well behaved, in many, many ways.”
“Well I’m proud of you for over-coming your fear of hospitals!” she spoke with glee.
“Oh I don’t think I’ll mind ever coming here again, at least.” I half smiled to myself, and looked down at the folded paper he had shoved into my hand, as he shook it.
Dear Jake,
Thanks for a great time last night, and even though I could tell you loved it, I was afraid of stepping over your boundaries. I live in the area, so if you ever are around, feel free to call my number, and hit me up. If you thought I was wicked at the hospital, you should see what my basement looks like.
PS: I have a large collection of feathers and brushes waiting to be used on your sides. Hope to see that smile and hear that laugh again.
Hmm…I had a week off work. I wonder when he was available. I picked up my cell phone, and shot him a text. Who knows what would happen….
Fin.
So I went into a specialist and he said the dreaded word: Surgery. Let me explain. I hate hospitals, I hate doctors, and I HATE surgery. For some reason, my body just cant handle the thought of any of those three; and to COMBINE them all in one!? No no, that wasn’t for me. But apparently it had to be done, in order to prevent the constant infections, my specialist thought that ear-tubes would help. A simple, outpatient procedure (So I was told), that would greatly improve my problems with my right ear.
So here I was, seven in the morning driving to the hospital, awaiting what was to come. I arrived and checked in, and had to do all the wonderful vitals that are required. Name: Jake Troski (gotta love the Polish names). Weight, 180, height, 6’1”. A slender, not overly-muscular dirty blonde kid, with ambitions of becoming a computer designer. I was somewhat nerdy, what can I tell you. Apparently that hadn’t helped me in the dating department either. Being gay alone was tough on me, but having to try and find dates with civilized people? I spent more time studying, thank God, then searching for an acceptable boyfriend.
I got settled into my room, had my friend come over for moral support (since she’d be the one driving me home when I was able to leave); and put on the fashionable hospital gown, wearing only my lucky red briefs underneath. I sat in the hospital bed, waiting.
Finally, a knock came at the door. And what a sight that entered the room…tall, dark (he must have been mixed race, I guessed) with a half an inch of hair growing out of his head. He must have just graduated medical college, because he WAS wearing that tacky white coat…but it didn’t look so tacky on him! He had a warm smile, as I was about to see; and the eyes! Those little oval frames of him sure didn’t hide those eyes. He was a cleanly shaved man, slender, and couldn’t have been THAT much older than me. At least he didn’t look so.
“Hi” he smiled at me, and suddenly I thought this operation might not be so bad….
“I’m Dr. Richards; I’ll be your anesthesiologist. I like to see patients before surgery just to give them a little reassurance, and let them know what we’ll be doing during the operation.” He held up his clipboard that must have contained my information, looking at it briefly, then looking back at me-
“So you’re getting some inner-ear tubes put in. Easy and simple. I also was warned that you have quite a bit of nerves when it comes to hospital visits, you have absolutely nothing to worry about”. And there came that smile again…I felt my heart racing faster…
“So Jake, is it ok if I sit here and chat with you for a minute?” Dear God, don’t ever leave, I thought.
“Sure” I responded, my voice shakier than I had thought it was previously…
He sat down on the bed, at my side, on the very edge. Damn, couldn’t get him to come closer, my luck. Oh well, as my mind raced with the possibilities of planning a future wedding, I was interrupted once again.
“So let me explain. According to your records you have had some problems with sedatives and pain killers before. Thankfully, you won’t be needing much of either for this procedure. We’re just going to put you out for a little while, make a small incision into your ear, and then roll you into recovery. We’re going to use a different type of anesthesia than we normally would, however, due to your previous problems with sedatives. Don’t worry though- I’ll be standing close by to make sure you’re alright”
I heard myself chuckle nervously in what I thought was a coy, sly manner. It must have come out like a teenage fangirl, however, because he simply looked back down at my chart, smiling as he did. He got up once again, and began walking away. He stopped at the foot of my bed, placing his hand near the bedframe, but accidentally knocked his hand to my foot, and I drew it away quickly, resisting the urge to chuckle. He looked at me with curiosity.
I was growing hot in the face though. I’ve always had a bit of a foot fetish; and the second his hand went to my foot, it didn’t take long for something to “stand to attention”. The reaction was pretty much immediate, and it wasn’t exactly easy to hide in a cloth gown. I’m a horny teenager, what can I say? As his eyes drew upwards from my feet, to meet my eyes, I thought for a flash of a second he had actually looked at my…no, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t care to see that. But his face was once again beaming at me with that smile, and a slightly raised eyebrow.
“A little ticklish?”
I nodded, my face growing hotter, placing my hands to my waist hoping to conceal my little trooper.
“Ah, don’t worry about it, my mistake.” He looked down at my feet for a moment.
“Those are some impressive sized dogs of yours! No wonder I bumped into them! What are they?”
“Twelve and a half” I smiled, and instantly my mind flooded with new possibilities of what this man could do to me.
“Well anyways, we’ll see you in the operating room! You’ll be fine, and I’ll be here to see how you are when you wake up.” He closed the door, and suddenly I realized that waking up to Dr. Richards wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Hell, this hospital visit might turn out better than I expected! Ten minutes later, a nurse came in, and wheeled me away. It wasn’t long before I saw his masculine jaw protruding above me, placing the mask over my nose. Even through his face mask I could see his cheekbones rise into a smile. God, that was a seductive smile. I stared into his eyes.
“Just close your eyes, count backwards from 100, and we’ll see you in a while! “
100…
99….
98…
This wasn’t working…
97…
97…
Did I repeat that twice?
96…
Was that out loud?
95…
94…
98…
9-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………..
I awoke in what I thought was a blink of an eye, but it couldn’t have been. Speaking of which…where was I? I didn’t remember my hospital room looking like this, and I felt funny, like I was all alone or something. But that couldn’t have been. I looked out the window near my bed and saw that it was pitch black out. Pitch black? I had gone in to surgery in the afternoon…how on earth was it pitch-black out if the operation was so simple and short? Did anesthesia keep you knocked out for a long time? But then I looked groggily down and with a panic realized I was restrained to the bed. Completely. My ankles were bound to either post of the twin-sized hospital bed, and my arms were bound in the same fashion. I was about to have a panic attack when I heard his voice again.
“Ah, so you’re finally awake. Good!”
I saw Dr. Richardson walk around my bed and as usual he had his face glued to a clip-board.
“Where in the hell am I? Where have I been and what is going on!?” I felt my voice shake and begin to rise in anger. There had to be some kind of explanation to this…
“Now now, lets not get too excited,” he spoke. “You’re still in the hospital, never left. I just had you moved down to a separate hall. Infact, an abandoned one. This section of the hospital is going under renovations next week and we had everything cleared out a while back. It’s nice and secluded here. Not a person near this area. You’ve been asleep for several hours, I interlaced a pretty good sedative into your anesthesia.
“But why!?”
“I wanted us to have some…private time…” I saw his grin once again, and he set the clipboard down fully this time. Not breaking eye contact.
I was panicking now. “Just tell me what in the HELL you plan to do, and WHY you’re doing it!”
And then, the smile grew into a full grin.
“Oh I don’t think you’ll have too many objections to what I’m going to do. At first at least. When I saw those feet of yours I could hardly keep my eyes off them. I wanted to see them, to feel them. When we were in the hospital room and my hand brushed up against them, and I saw your reaction, I knew that I had to have some fun with you. And judging by the tent I saw in your pants, I don’t think someone minded too much.”
It was just then that he began raking a single finger nail up and down my soles, scratching at the sensitive rosy flesh. My feet felt slick as I began to giggle and stare right back into his eyes, not breaking contact.
“Ticklish feet, hey? I guess we already discovered that little secret. How do you like the lotion I added to them? It makes the sensations a little worse, don’t you agree?” He began scribbling all five nails up and down my arches, in spider-like motions, as I felt his nails hit every bump and line on my sensitive undersides to my feet. I threw my head back and chuckled in earnest. His grin never faded as he lifted his brow, staring at me. I couldn’t help it. I sprang wood again right infront of him.
“See? You’re not going to mind this at all.” He then added hand number two to the mix, scribbling up and down both of my ticklish feet, while one set of nails dug in right under my toes (my absolute worse spot), his other hand was focusing on the balls of my feet, seeing which one would make me laugh harder, as he alternated. I began chuckling heavier as my breathing picked up.
“Whaha..whahat areheha youohoho going tohoho dohoho!?” I laughed through his merciless raking of my feet.
“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” He said, his voice lifting with gentle innocence. “I’m going to keep you here most of the night and tickle every inch of you. I’ll tickle your feet, your thighs, your pits and your sides. And whichever spots tickle the most, I’ll be sure to tickle twice as much. I’ll have you laughing and sweating like crazy by the end of the night, and judging from that rather noticeable protrusion swelling from your pants, I don’t think you’ll fight me too much on it. But if you do, well, these restraints sure did come in handy then, I guess.” He stopped tickling me at once, as I began panting lightly, closing my eyes, wondering now with a bit of excitement on what was to come. I saw him pick up a Wattenberg wheel, twirling it slowly in his fingertips.
“If you’ve seen old medical movies I’m sure you’re familiar with this little gadget. I don’t think waiting around to explain in more detail is needed, so I say we dive in.” He lowered the device and began fiercely raking it up and down my soles. That did it. I threw my head back and began bucking in laughter as he smiled along with me, he figured the weak spot under my toes was the best attack, and held them back with one hand, and raked the device up and down with the other, back and forth, sawing over that spot until I saw stars. Then he’d stop for only a moment to do the same to my other foot. Alternating back and forth.
“Ticklish under these sexy little toes, aren’t we?” His grin never faded.
“OHohogodhahahah yehehehashshehahahahahahaa!” I was laughing my fool head off, but I was loving every single minute of it. Being at this man’s mercy was not something I was exactly against. Had you un-restrained me I might have just stayed there. I’m glad I was though- I was bucking around the bed quite a bit and he seemed to be enjoying it, because every second that I seemed to be in agony, the more it fueled him to attack more wildly.
“That’s right, Jake, laugh!” He began going up and down my left arch with the wheel while running those wicked smooth hands up and down my right, scribbling slowly while the wheel attacked fiercely. I thought this was going on forever, but god, I loved it. I was his tickle toy, and the dominance in him knew it, because after another fifteen minutes on my feet, he stopped. He walked around my bed, out of my range of vision, but at once I knew where he had gone. I felt him pull my hospital gown off, revealing only my plaid boxers, and I could sense him standing right behind me, leaning over my bed, and felt his warm hands being placed directly over my darkly haired armpits.
“You know what I think?” He whispered into my ear. “I think that you love this so much, I could take these restraints off, and have you wanting more. I think you can’t get enough of my dark hands running up and down your body, the images of it are driving you wild. I can hear that just from the panting, and I’m not even tickling yet.”
I felt his fingertips reach into my pit hair, resting there with firm pressure, as I gulped.
“I think I could tickle you all night and get away with it. I could have you begging for anything by the end of tonight, and if I had to place money on it, it’d be more tickling. But let me re-assure you. By the time I’m done, you’ll do anything to make me stop.”
I felt my heart racing, the excitement was driving me wild. I wanted it. I wanted to feel his hands glide along my sides and up and down my chest, making me completely at his mercy. Oh God, I wanted it bad. This man was obviously experienced with tickle play.
“Tell me you want it”. He spoke with control in his voice, and a hint of satisfaction as he whispered it into my ear.
“I..I want it.” I stammered. He chuckled to himself.
“What do you want?” His voice was curious, as if he had no inkling as to what was about to happen.
“Tickle me”. I couldn’t believe I had said that. My heart was pounding.
“What was that?” He asked again.
I broke completely then and there.
“Please, tickle me! Tickle my pits and my sides, run your fingers up and down my feet and don’t stop! Please, tickle me senseless!”
Then I felt his fingers dig full force into the hair of my pits, swirling in circles around and around, and as I once again threw my head back to begin laughing uncontrollably, I saw him looking down into my eyes once again, a full grin placed on his expression as he took glee in finding all the new ways to assault my body and make it his.
I don’t know how long he attacked my pits for. This man was not a gentle tickler by any means, sure he would poke and prod, but most of the time he went for full-brutal-force. I laid in that bed for what must have been half an hour while he relentlessly stroked his hands proffesionally around my pits. Up and down, scribbling with the nails, pulling at my curled pit hairs. He kept provoking me and teasing me, hoping to make my situation worse- which he was very good at. He would lean in, inches to my face, and over my hysterical howls of deep, forced laughter, say things-
“Tickle tickle tickle!”
“Woah, someone’s got some ticklish pits, heh?”
“Tell me where it’s worse, in the center, or on the sides!”
“I’m not gonna stop, Jake. I’ll tickle you all night long!”
Oh god this was torture. After the attack on my pits he hopped ontop of me, straddling my sides and working those wicked fingers and nails along my sides, digging into me with no mercy.
“Nohohohehaha stahahahaplehehaha plhehehehleeheheaseheahahaa!” I screamed, as I tried to buck him off of me, but he was firmly planted ontop, and he had no intentions of leaving. My body was coated in a thin layer of sweat as I felt the sheets begin to stick to my backside. But when he dug into my hips, that’s when I arched completely off of the bed, and screamed louder than I had the entire night. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. He quickly hopped down and walked out of the room for a moment, returning later with…a feather duster.
I was hoping to see if this worked on you. Not too many guys are feather ticklish, but that waistline of yours might be the golden ticket! He flickered it through the air, as if sending the tickling vibrations to me. I shuddered. Feathers were a big weakness to me. The thought of something so harmless being used to torture a man left me feeling vulnerable and extremely desperate. It was like an ultimate control over my body, to make me quake with a feather’s touch. I think he picked up on the excitement in my face, as well as my slight terror. He loved it.
“Now,” he spoke, walking towards me gingerly as if discussing a pleasant subject. “Let’s just test out how sensitive this little waist of yours is with a few ostrich feathers from the Janitor’s closet stroking up and down it.”
The soft gray plumes stroked around my waist slowly, teasingly, making me writhe and squirm under his now gentle touch. He smiled more once again, and began dusting my waistline, side to side, each time he passed over my bellybutton, swirling the duster a couple of times in it. I began to chuckle in earnest, giggling and staring right at him. Then he placed the plumes to my side, right on my hip bone. I lost it.
“Shihihihihththehahahaha!” My laughter increased as he smiled wider, stroking up and down on just the spots on my hips, back and forth, left to right, small tight circles, then small strokes up and down, side to side. I was completely at the feather’s mercy, and his.
“Plehehehasehahaha nohohohomorehehahaha!” I was loosing control, something as minor as a feather was sending me over the edge, and if he didn’t stop, it’d be in more ways than one too. He straddled my waist once again, digging his thumb in circular motions, firmly into my right hip bone, while he kept the duster focused over my left, up and down, up and down.
“I think I’ll tickle you right here for the rest of the night” He spoke wickedly. “And then right when you think you’re going to pass out, I’ll stop.” He stopped tickling, I panted and heaved, sweat covering my brow.
“Then I’ll do THIS”. He drilled both of his thumbs straight into my hipbones, and I lost it. I screamed and laughed harder and louder than I could have imagined. While he sat ontop of me, in his white labcoat, his glasses bounces around his face, as he laughed in unison with me, at my ticklish agony, never letting the pressure up on his skilled finger-tips.
“NOHOHOHOHOMOREHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” I screamed between hysterical sobs of laughter, I could feel tears forming in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks.
“Beg for it to stop!” He picked up the duster again and placed it under my pits. While I’m not exactly feather ticklish there, the deviant image of him doing all of this to me at once was more than I could handle, and I laughed just as much from the psychological torture as I did the physical tickle torture.
“OhohoGODHEAHAHA PLEHEHASEHAHA STAHAHAP, I’LLDHEHA DOOHOHOHOEHEHE ANYTHINHINGHAHEAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“Anything?” He laid down, that round butt facing me, as his face was level with my feet, lying ontop of me. I felt the stiff bristles of a toothbrush begin raking up and down my soles, with special attention to the toes, holding them in place.
“ANYTHINGHEAOHOHOHOHO!”
He stopped abruptly. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was making me nervous. The tent in my boxers was raging and I wasn’t exactly sure how much more I could handle. This was getting intense even for my blood. But Dr. Richardson sure seemed to be enjoying it. I could see the faint outline of something in his labcoat, telling me that I wasn’t the only one with man-hood issues at the moment. He leaned over, placing his fingertips at my hipbones once again.
“OH god no!”
“If you want me to stop, you’ll have to pass out!” And then he tickled. And tickled. And tickled.
His fingers and thumbs drilled into my hips, I felt the feathers raking up and down my sweat-covered chest. He returned to my feet a few more times throughout the night, re-applying lotion to them. I didn’t pass out until nearly three in the morning, after a couple hours of non-stop, intense tickling. The last thing I remember was him standing at my side, working specifically on that hip bone of mine, drilling both hands into my right flank, kneading and massaging it, between scribbles and digs. I faintly heard him say to himself,
“My little tickle toy.” Grinning again.
My sobs of laughter only gave him the motive to make me suffer more, and that was the last I remember. I wokeup the next morning in my old room, un-restrained, horny as hell. He was at least a gentleman and didn’t take advantage…well, in some ways at least. My friend came in to pick me up and I had thought I dreamt the whole thing, had it not been for the red marks and scratches all over my body, and my sore rib cage, when looking in the mirror that morning to take a much needed piss. I’m surprised I hadn’t wet myself.
I was wheeled out of the hospital and passed Dr. Richardson in the hall. His grin was a whole new meaning of wicked to me, and it was hard-wired to a certain spot at that time. I felt my heart flutter and beat rapidly. He shook my hand and thanked me.
“What was he thanking you for?” Asked my friend, as we got into the car to drive me home.
“Oh probably because I was so well behaved, in many, many ways.”
“Well I’m proud of you for over-coming your fear of hospitals!” she spoke with glee.
“Oh I don’t think I’ll mind ever coming here again, at least.” I half smiled to myself, and looked down at the folded paper he had shoved into my hand, as he shook it.
Dear Jake,
Thanks for a great time last night, and even though I could tell you loved it, I was afraid of stepping over your boundaries. I live in the area, so if you ever are around, feel free to call my number, and hit me up. If you thought I was wicked at the hospital, you should see what my basement looks like.
PS: I have a large collection of feathers and brushes waiting to be used on your sides. Hope to see that smile and hear that laugh again.
Hmm…I had a week off work. I wonder when he was available. I picked up my cell phone, and shot him a text. Who knows what would happen….
Fin.