severelyannoyinganchor
Tickling Guys!
Hit me up if you wish to talk about tickling boys! From teasing, soft tickles and giggling to full on tickle torture with tied up boys screaming, laughing hard and pleading, I like it all!
Every boy depicted on here is assumed to be at least 18 years old for legal purposes
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Absolutely wicked…
just digging out his pits in the 2nd gif 🥴😵💀⚰️🪦
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Smoking. A terrible habit. Bad for your health. Bad for society. Bad bad bad. There was plenty of anti-smoking campaigns in the UK, from childhood onwards you were drilled in the dangers of smoking, how addictive it was, its horrible side effects. And it worked. The number of young people who smoked in adulthood was one of the lowest in Europe.
The Anti-Smoking & Vaping League - an unofficial and legally frowned-upon group of vigilantes - didn't think that was good enough. The number of young men loitering around parks, lighting up ciggies and having a jolly old time really ticked them off. These two scallies were caught on a bodycam of one of their members after he politely informed them of the dangers of smoking, and of the pungent odour of their smoke in a public park. One lit up another cig in response, the other gave him the middle finger! Although ego-bruised and purturbed, the ASVL member made sure he'd got them on film and returned to HQ. He was certainly going to volunteer these two hooligans for a Smoking Deterrence Session. Hmmmph!
And, alas, his petition was successful. A few days later and these two pals were tied side by side, their flashy trainers and white slazenger socks removed and set to one side, as their feet were relentlessly tickled. You see the Anti-Smoking League had discovered a very interesting thing: most young men were very, very ticklish, and had very ticklish feet. Such a vulnerability, they realised, could be used to deter smoking even further.
Unluckily for these two chaps they certainly fell into the ticklish category, and their brutish demeanour crumbled under the deft, wiggling fingers of the ASVL. Poor sods. Like most lads they didn't realise how exposing it feels to be stripped of your footwear and socks, and to have your bare feet be taken out of your control. For the duration of their torment their ticklish soles were the sole ownership of the ASVL. They were tickled without mercy or pity, until they pledged to stop tickling, to agree to monthly checks that their smoking was curbed. If they were spotted so much as near a pack of ciggies, they were told, they'd be taken back here for another, even longer session of re-education, one in which nothing they could promise would be listened to at all. At those words both lads hollered their capitulation with pleading desperation.
Luckily for the park warden who reported the two hooligans he was able to get involved in their session, and he was certain to teach Mr Middle Finger a very ticklish lesson. By the end, he was even more wrecked than his extra ticklish friend thanks to the focused torture. It never got old to see two cocky lads knocked down a few pegs. As always their socks were confiscated so that when they got home and kicked off their trainers they'd look down and see the bare feet that had just been tickled like never before. Still exposed. Still vulnerable. A psychological reminder of the consequences should they ever smoke again.
Both lads never touched cigarettes again in their lives.
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At one point, one must know how much tickling a gardener can take, especially a young one like that!
Whenever I come home from college and stay at my dad's place I always keep an eye out for his groundskeeper. My step-mom hired him, and I have a sneaking suspicion why; he's a fucking adonis. Luckily for a voyeur like me my room looks out directly on the garden, and I can sit there for hours watching him work, get sweaty and dirty, flaunting his lithe strength. Teasing me.
He hardly ever takes his clothes off, sadly. He's a professional in that way. But saying that, there is the occasional time...
This one time it was absolutely sweltering outside, and I was home alone in the living room minding my own business, when he walks past the window, yawns, and pulls off his shirt directly in my eyeline. I saw the moment when the heat became too much and he caved, peeling off his shirt, stretching, the sweat making his torso glisten in the sunlight.
I won't lie, reader, my boner sprang into existence before I could even blink. Eyes wide to drink in the sight, I palmed myself through my shorts, tossing up whether or not to start jerking off in earnest. He was right outside, but it was dark inside and bright outside; I'd be no more than a dim shadow. Decisions, decisions.
Then, like a sign from heaven, his work trousers slipped slightly. Holy fuck. Was he commando under there? The tip of his crack was showing, and his shimmering mons pubis was exposed enough to almost be at pube level. Whispering a silent prayer of thanks and forgiveness I slipped my hand under my waistband and got to work, watching his shirtless form toil in the sun. Pottering about with furniture, sweeping, lifting pots and urns, raking. Narcissus himself would have been distracted by this sight.
He slipped out of my sight for a second, but I was so close it didn't even matter, and his form was already seared into my retinas.
Then, knock knock, at the door in the kitchen. Fuck.
I panicked, yanking my hand out of my shorts, seconds from finishing and despaired. FUCK. He knew someone was in here, dad had probably told him I would be here if he needed anything, I couldn't just ignore him. But I was shirtless myself in an effort to beat the heat, and the bulge in my shorts wasn't going anywhere fast.
I bit the bullet, shuffling over to the sliding door and opening it with a smile.
"Hey, bro, sorry to disturb you or anything, you think I could get a glass of water?"
"Of course! Must be thirsty work!" I squeaked. Shit, weird thing to say. I waddled to the sink and fixed him a glass of water. Jesus, he was even hotter up close, and he smelled of grass and man. My boner was not going away.
"Here you go."
"Thanks, dude, you're a life saver." He said, gulping the water down, a little bit dribbling down his chin and then his neck....chest...abs...stop that!
Dare I? No. Do not. But- No! But- "You should come inside and cool off for a bit. It's boiling out there I bet."
"Thanks bro but I shouldn't..."
"My dad isn't here, man, it's chill. Come on in. If you want." I added.
He deliberated for a second, but was clearly tempted. "If you insist." He smirked. "But I'll take my shoes off, they're muddy."
"Oh, you don't have to..." I started, then trailed off. If he wanted to I wasn't gonna stop him.
"No it's only polite. You're barefoot, I wouldn't wanna get the floors dirty." He started kicking off his work boots, then yanked his socks off one by one and stuffed them inside. "Plus I'm gonna use the hose soon, so I may as well be barefoot." He stepped inside, and with one graceful, oblivious step fulfilled my wildest dream.
There he stood, shirtless, glistening with sweat, barefoot, and in my kitchen. And there I stood, shirtless, barefoot. My arousal throbbed. I prayed he hadn't noticed it.
But was that a whiplash-fast glance up and down my body?
"You think I could get another glass of water? If it's not too much bother?"
"Sure thing." I obliged, taking the glass from him, basking in the smell of grass and hard labour once more, and slunk back to the sink. If this was one of the stories I wrote I would have slipped something into his drink, tied him up and tickled him to my heart's content. But this was real life, and I'm not a complete pyscho. Besides, I don't carry tranquilising drugs around with me as a general rule.
I heard him gasp. "Oh god, yes. A fan." Heard his bare feet slap on the tile over to where a standing fan was whirring away. Turned just in time to see him basking in front of it, arms up, eyes closed in bliss as he groaned exaggerately, cool air licking the heat away from his chest.
Fuck. The hottest sight I've ever seen in my life. Shorts too tight. Dick so erect it was almost painfully hard. FUCK. Needed to go round the kitchen island and hand him the glass. So far. So close! Come on, come on. One step. One foot after the other. Friction in my shorts as I walked, rubbing my head, dick growling like a caged animal in the confines of my shorts, cruelly robbed of its release early and now promising vengeance.
"Here you...go." I managed to smile, still a few steps from him, beginning to hold out the glass. The world was becoming slo-mo.
I glanced down. FUCK. His feet. So soft and exposed in comparison to his work pants just above, then his rippling abs, shining and golden, his nipples, his pecs, his shoulders, his neck---
"Thanks, man." He reached for the glass as I took the last step, and the friction on my dick, the tightness of the shorts, the hotness of him, his thankful smile--
My eyes widened in shock that this was actually happening to me and I stifled a moan as my cock erupted in my shorts. A whimper slipped out, and my eye twitched with the tidal wave of pleasure as my dick blasted out its pent-up arousal like a war cannon. Seconds were passing and my orgasm-stuck dick was still in its death throes, little spurts eventually dying to nothing. Holy fuck. No no no. Had he seen my abs tense? Noticed the shiver that shot down my spine? Heard the faint squelch in my shorts? Could he see a wet patch leaking from my crotch right that second? Could he smell what I'd done?! I dared not look down to check, just prayed to whatever god was out there that my underwear and not my shorts had caught most of my jizz.
A puzzled glint flashed in his eyes for half a second - he noticed something - but he took the glass and gulped it down all the same.
"Ahh. That's the stuff. A fan and an ice cold glass of water. I should knock on more often when you're home." He joked, and I chuckled politely, probably standing too close, afraid to move for fear it would make my little accident visible. The fan was blowing his masculine musk directly into my face, as if trying to torture me further. Grass, pinecones, the earthy scent of man sweat. If the friction hadn't done it, that probably would have pushed me over the edge.
Somehow I spoke without whimpering in sheer mortification. "Yeah, feel free whenever I'm home, bro, it's no problem at all. I normally have more clothes on."
He laughed and gestured at his own torso. "Me too, me too. Much to the chagrin of your step-mom I'm pretty sure." He winked.
"No comment." I managed to laugh genuinely, momentarily forgetting the wetness in my undewear, the utter humiliation of the scenario I still hadn't escaped from yet.
"Anyway. I'd better get back to work. I'm not paid to lounge in front of a fan all day. Wish I was, though. We could shade bathe in here all day long." Did he know the torture his words caused me? He handed me the glass with a smile and walked to the kitchen door.
I took my last glances at his bare feet and muscled back as he stepped out onto the patio. He turned back. "Great talking to you, man. Nice of you to come-- I mean nice of you to let me come in. See ya round." He closed the patio door and wandered back into the blistering sun.
I stood there in abject horror. Had I heard that right? There was no way.
I looked down. A little dark patch bloomed on the front of my shorts.
"Oh shit."
~~~
Now, reader, that may have been the most mortifying moment of my life.... Actually that should have been a full stop. It was the most mortifying moment of my life.
But.
I've noticed that our friendly groundskeeper slips his shirt off a lot more often than he used to when I'm home, even on days that aren't especially hot. And he seems to be extra thirsty on days when I'm home alone, often knocking for a glass of water and a chat.
Maybe he's just become less tolerant of the heat. It must be hot, sweaty work out there in the sun.
But maybe.
Just maybe...
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I volunteer a few lads to try and withstand the rack! Obviously, I'll be fair and join the team of torturers - they can't have it easy!
No one can hear you LAD!! Tickle tickle! 😈
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Cocky lad out flaunting his ARMPITS and BIG WET FEET!! Demons fixing to drag him down to TICKLE HELL where he belongs!!! 😈
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Hopefully the demon lets me play with the one on the left for a while before I offer him to it!
I will tickle torture him well, the demon will be pleased, I promise - and I have more boys of my own to offer it if it will accept them!
Demon found three very TICKLISH best mates who will NEVER be returning home!! 😈
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Definitely needs to be tied down and tickle tortured relentlessly for hours and hours on end! There's a boy I know that looks kind of similar, who is extremely ticklish and quite keen to be tickled! Maybe they can be paired up and play a little "who's more ticklish" game!
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Well well well, what a nice team we have here!
There's lots of showing here, just you wait until we show them what happens to be sore winners, guys - You don't want to go around rubbing your victory in to the opposite team if their captain is a rich kid with a dad that has a huge tickle fetish and a biiiig dungeon under his villa that can accomodate all of you to play!
But you did not know that, did you?
Judging by your screams, your desperate laughter and your pleading....
No, you did not =)
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Oh - oh yes.
great abs you got there, boy. Nice legs, interesting socked feet.
Won't even mention how happy you are to show us everything.
What if you got hauled to a certain facility with just those clothes, tied to a table in an inverted Y position, very taut.. Would you like that?
We'd be running experiments on you same as other teens we have in here, the main question would be.... Are you ticklish?
The ordeal would then begin, those feet, those legs, the abs, that bellybutton the surely scrumptious pits you're hiding, those little nubs I can see only one of...
Yeah. You're definitely terribly, horribly, mind-shatteringly ticklish. And we are going to exploit every single inch of exposed skin on you.
Good luck.
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perfect, definitely perfect! now let's tie him down and start the intense tickle torture, shall we?
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Guys playing cornball love tickles
Interesting! Well, I guess he won't mind then if I tickle him!
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So cute to see a ler and a lee starting out their relationship and their voyage through tickling!
Now, be a dear you two, strip down and get on the table, I'll show you both how to tie a boy up and how tickle them - I'm sure you'll benefit from this lesson(s).
“Tickle tickle!” giggled the dumb straight lads, not knowing the DEMON would soon be dragging them both directly to TICKLE HELL!! 😈
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So, so many boys I'd do this to!
Tickle tickle 😈
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