Saturday, July 31, 2010

First Interrogation with Tickling as Persuasion

When I was in Sixth Grade, turning 12, we moved to different neighborhood in San Jose. There were a few boys there around my age, and we all went to the same school. Being boys, we ran around, rode our bikes, wrestled around, and sometimes chose up sides to play some kind of combat soldier game. Pretending to shoot each other, being “shot” and having to count to a certain number to be alive again. The goal was to “kill” off all of the other team, and you won. Then, we either played again, chose up new teams and played again, or stopped because we were bored and went onto something else.

One time, one of our group decided that instead of playing to “kill” each other, we should have something to hide, that way, one team could defend it, and the other could find it. Once found, we would switch and the finder would hide it, and the other team would have to find it. It actually worked out pretty well. Instead of having to count when “shot” you were captured. Having everyone captured was another way of winning. This way of playing went on a little longer and was a little less boring.

The second time we played, my team was the one to have to find it, and we had captured someone. We left him in someone’s garage, our fort and center of operations, with a guard, and the rest of us went to search for the object or someone else to capture. We returned with another captive, and in our absence our guard, Greg, had proceeded to tie up our first captive, using one of the exposed pipes to lash his legs together and anchored to something so he couldn’t stand up. As we arrived he had one shoe and sock off, and was removing the other so he had Ricky completely barefoot, who was complaining and whining about not wanting to be barefoot. He had kind of long feet, narrow, and long toes, kind of pretty. Greg started stroking his soles, both feet, up to his toes, which were wiggling frantically by the time his fingers reached them, and he laughing hysterically, not even being able to protest the sublime torture. Greg worked his toes, giggling the whole time, because he thought it was funny that Ricky was laughing so hard, and he was getting off on how crazy his toes were moving. Then, he did something I didn’t think I’d see again, he started licking Ricky’s toes. It was a good thing he had tied him down good. Ricky started to laugh harder and harder, and bucked pretty hard. Greg just lickked his toes, around and in between, on the tops and on the bottom, and just kept swirling his tongue all around his defenseless toes. Then, he started licking his feet, one after the other, from the heel, up the sole, and ending up between his toes. Poor Ricky was a hysterical wreck. Finally Greg asked where the object was, and it took Ricky a few minutes to respond. He told us. We thought Greg would untie Ricky and let him go, but when we came back, he was still tickling Ricky’s poor helpless feet, and licking his now very wet toes. He didn’t to have the strength to move, but he was still laughing, although he did seem hoarse. So we made Greg stop and untie Ricky and give him back his shoes and socks.

We hid the object and started up play again. This time they captured me, and because of what had happened to Ricky, they tied me up and took off my shoes and socks. I made up my mind that I wouldn’t talk. Sure enough, instead of just one, Ricky enlisted another of our group, and they decided to take off my shoes and socks. They started right in tickling my feet. They did just what Greg did, stroking my soles and toes, and all over my bare feet. I was laughing as hard as Ricky, if not harder, and they just kept on tickling. They also thought it was funny, and just kept going. They never asked me any questions, they were just tickling the hell out of my feet like they were torturing a captive. Then, they started licking my feet, just like Greg, from heel to toes, and around and in between my toes. Sometimes they would lick my toes, and sometimes they would lick my soles, and sometimes together. Giving me a slight break, they asked where the object was hidden, but I wouldn’t talk. Now, one of them started to tickle my armpits, and chest, under my t-shirt, and Ricky just kept licking one foot, while he stroked the other foot. I don’t how long it went on, when the guy on my armpits, ran his hand down to my crotch, and started feeling around in there and tickling my dick and balls through my pants. I went absolutely crazy, which made them get a little more into it. Eventually I came in my pants, and this only made the tickling wilder and wilder. Eventually some mom heard me and made them untie me.

Needless to say, the two years I lived there, there was a good deal of tickle fun. A couple of these guys were total tickle and foot fetishists at that young age. There are more stories to come.

And, remember, tickling is very safe sex.  Just see how hard your next guy gets when you suck his toes.

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