Alastor Kragar’s slammed the door to his dungeon shut. Within, Ash and Aemond trembled with excitement. A warm comfortable hue bathed the spacious underground room and its many, many devices. X-frames, bondage tables, chairs and recliners clad in straps, cuffs, and all manner of restraints to hold someone down for a kinky fun time.
Aemond’s eyes darted around the dizzying selection of objects that filled the wooden shelves, wondering which ones he would be treated to. The Charizard’s toes curled against the cold floor as the sight of each device brought a phantom tingling to the soles of his large feet. He felt Ash’s hand on his shoulder – the panther smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, big guy. I’m right here with you.”
“Thanks, Ash.” He relaxed a little. “I’m just a bit nervous. That’s all.”
“That’s normal. I’m nervous too. Well… maybe nervous isn’t the right word. More like excited!”
“The rules are simple-” Kragar began in his steely tone, immediately commanding the undivided attention of his guests. “Rule number one: in my dungeon, what I say goes. I am your master and you will address me as such. You will be rewarded for showing obedience and punished for showing a lack of it.” They nodded along. “Rule number two: once the session starts, it’s not over until I say so; or until one of you says the safe word. We’ll go with the word red. Say it.”
“Red!”
“R-red.”
“Good. The third and final rule is…” he paused for effect before breaking the tension with a toothy grin. “…do have fun!”
“I’m already having fun. All of this is making me horny as hell!” exclaimed Ash. “It’s been ages since my last sesh so I can’t wait to get started. Right, Aemond?”
“Uh, yeah! I guess I’m still a little on edge but I know it’ll be fun.” He looked up at the crocodile. “Please go easy on me, Mr. Kra—“ He was shot a stern look. “Master! I-I meant Master Kragar!”
“Good boy. I’ll let it slide this time but if you slip up like that again I’ll have to punish you.” The Charizard blew a sigh of relief. “Now… Let’s get started.” Kragar pointed to Ash. “Lose the clothes.”
“Yes, sir!” He stripped enthusiastically, eager to make his body vulnerable, to make it a plaything for the crocodile. First his shirt, then his loafers, and finally his pants and underwear, all unceremoniously discarded to the floor where they would remain until after his balls were drained empty. Dark gray fur covered the panther’s slim yet toned frame from head to toe with a lighter hue painting his belly and crotch. Despite his admirable build, Ash’s most impressive assets – at least in the context of the upcoming tickle torture session – were his feet. Each paw was as long as his forearm from heel to toe and proportionally wide as well.
Kragar was already set. A simple leather harness was all the gear he needed to play the part of a dom. Well, that wasn’t quite true. The croc could dom in a pink tutu if he wanted to. His tall wide-shouldered frame was clad in tough-looking jade scales, and the very sight of him inspired subservience in his peers and underlings alike.
Yes, the harness was hardly a necessity. He just really liked how it looked.
If Aemond wore any clothes now would’ve been the time he took them off.
“Let’s start simple. Both of you, lay on those tables. Arms and legs spread.”
Within a minute, the ticklees-to-be were tied spread-eagle on a pair of tables placed side by side. Thin yet plush padding covered the table’s surface as well as the inside of the cuffs around their wrists and ankles so that no amount of struggling (of which there would be plenty) would carry the risk of chafing or injury.
In other words, Kragar could go as hard as he wanted to. He stood between both tables and placed a palm over the ticklees’ bellies, making them flinch.
“Ready, boys?”
“Go nuts!”
“W-wait, let me have a second to prepahaharehehe!”
From the outside, Roy’s house looked like your average suburban home, but the moment you stepped foot inside you instantly knew it belonged to a huge tickle lover. You might miss the plethora of feathers and brushes (mostly brushes) scattered about – strategically placed near couches, beds and other areas where spontaneous tickle sessions could plausibly occur – but you could never miss the obvious bondage implements built into half of the furniture.
If all else failed, the twin pairs of stocks in front of the couch should clue you in about what kind of activities regularly transpire within the privacy of the bear’s domicile.
“Shoes at the door,” he instructed his guests. “You won’t need them here.”
The Siberian tiger sat down on an ornate bench by the door and crossed one leg over the other. He was about to remove his shoe but the Machoke stopped him.
“Please let me help you, master Donnie.”
“Oh, sure. Thanks, Renley.”
With a delicateness obtained over the course of many years of service as a professional butler, Renley untied the colorful shoe and gently pulled it off of the socked paw which wiggled it’s toes in newfound freedom. After taking off the remaining shoe, he placed the pair neatly by the door.
“Shall I take off my socks now or…”
“Leave them on. I’ll do the honors myself, later,” said Roy.
Donnie Dixon stood at an impressive six feet and two inches in his socked paws, and his above average build spoke volumes about his strict exercise routine.
No less impressive was Renley’s build (in his case, it came naturally to him. Being a Machoke had it’s perks.) So impressive, in fact, that his muscular torso and bare feet were on permanent display by recommendation of his master. He wore nothing but a pair of suit pants and a black bow tie.
Roy himself wore a simple black shirt and tracksuit pants. But his standout item of clothing was the out-of-season Santa Claus hat that he wore all year ‘round for no other than he liked how it looked.
“Thank you again for being our host, Master Roy,” Renley bowed politely. “I must confess I wasn’t expecting to have an all-day tickle session today but when Master Kragar requested me to accompany you… Well, I could never say no.”
“Yeah, mate. Thanks for having us,” Donnie added. “Been a while since I had a good tickling. Was starting to miss it.”
“Good. Let’s not waste any more time, then,” Roy said, gesturing towards the open stocks in front of the couch.
As his guests peeled off their remaining clothes, the bear fetched his favorite brush from a drawer nearby and put it on the coffee table – in plain view of the soon-to-be-tickled men just as they placed their feet in the open stocks.
“What shall our safe word be, Master Roy?”
“Oh, right. Guess we should have one of those. Let’s go with… ‘pneumoultramicroscopicosilicovulcanoconiose’”
“I’m… not sure if I can pronounce that.”
“Kidding! We’ll go with banana.”
The stocks snapped shut around those beautiful pairs of feet, rendering them fully vulnerable and at Roy’s mercy – well, perhaps not fully vulnerable, at least not in Donnie’s case. Roy knelt down in front of the tiger’s socked feet and started massaging them, feeling them tense up in response to his touch.
“Tell me about your feet, Donnie. Are they ticklish?”
“Oh! They’re really sensitive. I lotion them every day and make sure to get a pedicure at least once a mohohonth!”
As he removed the first sock, Roy lightly grazed his claw over the increasingly exposed sole. “Go on…”
“T-They’re so ticklish- hehe! B-But I actually kinda lihike it. Bahaha!” One long paw was now fully bare, merrily wiggling it’s four padded toes in response to the bear’s claw while he took off the other sock.
“I’m going to have fun with these. How about a little exploration? Let’s find out exactly where on these pretty peets of yours it makes you meow the loudest.”
“If I may,” Renley interjected. “Master Kragar has already conducted a thorough examination of Master Donnie’s feet and determined that the most sensitive areas are- Hahaha!” Bear claws scratched his bare sole.
“Don’t spoil the fun, Renley. That’s not very butler-y of you, now is it?”
“I’m sohohorry, M-master Rohoy!”
Big and ticklish – those were the only commonalities between Donnie’s paws and Renley’s feet. In every other aspect they were different. The tiger’s paw was animal in form, closely resembling the elongated appendage of his feral counterpart. A thin layer of fur (a shade lighter than the rest of Donnie’s coat) covered the sole from the heel to the toes with the exception his soft gray paw pads. The toes were large and bulbous, and accounted for the widest part of the tiger’s paw. Each of those four digits was home to a retractable claw which was trimmed and filed down for safety.
Renley had been blessed with picture-perfect feet – the dream of every foot fetishist. Round heels that grew into wide arches and sprouted five bubbly toes each, cutely splayed even as they were tickled. As a testament to his discipline, the Machoke made it a point to expose his feet as much as possible for the enjoyment of his tickler. The lavender sole was smooth and as well cared-for as Donnie’s paws – if not better. It wasn’t outrageous to say that regular foot care might very well be part of his job description. After all, one could only imagine the things a rich tickle-fetishist does behind closed doors to his soft-footed, eternally subservient butler.
Yet despite these differences, they still had those two things in common. Big and ticklish. The only two aspects Roy really cared about.
He grabbed the brush.
“Settle in, boys! You’ll be here a long time!”
It started from the knot and trekked upwards along the sensitive underside until it reached the glans and lingered there, idly circling around the opening of the pre-leaking urethra until the whole shaft twitched like it was about to erupt. Then, abruptly and anticlimactically, it traveled back down to the knot and repeated its journey all over again.
“I’ve never seen a cat with a dog dick. How come?”
“M-my grandpaha was a-haha- a wolf!”
Speaking while getting your cock feathered wasn’t an easy feat but, all things considered, Ash was doing great. A few minutes of belly and armpit tickling was all it took to bring him to full mast, at which point Kragar decided to give his boner some feathery attention.
The panther felt unusually tense. Despite his bravado and openness about the whole affair, getting his cock touched by another man still felt a little embarrassing to someone who, for the most part, still considered himself to be straight. He would’ve yelled the safe word and calmly informed his dom about his hard limits if only that feather didn’t feel so good.
“Ah, interesting. I have experience handling wolves.” He twirled the feather around Ash’s swollen knot. “This part here is quite sensitive, yes?”
“Oh! Ohoho, gohohosh!”
Ash’s toes curled and his fur stood on end as Kragar’s feather mercilessly licked the many clusters of nerves on the base of the panther’s cock. A familiar heat was starting to build up inside his pelvis.
“I suppose it is. And, how about you?” He looked at Aemond who seemed fixated on his friend’s shaft, sporting an erection of his own. “Enjoying the show?”
“Uh? Oh, y-yes, Master!”
“Good lad. I think your friend has had enough for now. Let’s see if you like having your cock tickled.”
The feather left Ash’s cock a millisecond before triggering an explosive orgasm.
“Hey! Don’t stop now! Keep going, I’m about to cum!”
The dungeon fell silent. If looks could kill, Ash would’ve been promptly impaled by Kragar’s piercing stare. He knew he has just done something very, very wrong.
“Did you just try telling me what to do? In *my *dungeon?” The crocodile’s voice was like the calm before a storm. “Aemond?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What does rule number one say about disobedience?”
“That we will be punished for it.”
“Correct. Do you think Ash deserves to be punished for what he did just now?”
Aemond looked at Ash who looked back pleadingly (his penis wasn’t the only thing he got from the wolf side of his family; he could also pull off amazing puppy dog eyes.) He wanted to cover for his friend, perhaps try to persuade the crocodile with an argument about how a man’s reason always seems to malfunction in the seconds prior to an orgasm. That Ash wasn’t thinking straight. That he didn’t mean it… But he knew that was just as likely to earn them both a lesson on Kragar’s authority. In the end, he said what he had to say.
“Yes, sir.”
“See, Ash? Aemond understands the rules.” Without warning, he began tickling the panther’s naked torso, switching between his midriff and armpits at random.
“Bwahaha! W-Wahait! I need to cum! I need to cuhuhahaha-!”
“You’re not allowed to cum before Aemond. That’ll teach you a thing or two about patience.” He drilled into both armpits with his index fingers. Ash screamed. “And about who’s in charge here.”
“Ahahaww! Cohome ohohon!”
Had he known Kragar was such a strict dom, Ash would’ve held his tongue. Now he was paying the price for his insolence with laughter and tears as the croc’s claws explored every nook and cranny of his muscular upper body.
Meanwhile, Aemond briefly got lost in the spectacle with a throbbing erection until the feeling of a feather assaulting his shaft snapped him out of his trance.
“I didn’t forget about you, dragon. Your master told me your cock was quite ticklish. Is that true?”
It was true alright. The bound Charizard spasmed and squirmed in response to the overwhelming combination of tickling and pleasure inflicted by the feather’s kiss on his member. The sensations brought back fond memories of his first session of tickle therapy – the very first time when being strapped down and mercilessly tickle tortured felt so good. Paired with the sight of the panther still getting tickled next to him, it all made for quite a stimulating experience. His cock already spurted pre-cum.
“Ah! No cumming yet!” Kragar said, pausing the cock feathering. “I want you to last as long as you can. Understood?”
“Y-yes, master.”
Ash’s neglected cock throbbed.
Roy’s lips pressed together against the tiger’s quivering abs and delivered a loud raspberry. In response, Donnie cackled merrily and tried to yank his arms out of the armbinder keeping them behind his back and out of the way.
“And that’s twenty.”
“F-Fuck… That was… Intense…” He struggled to speak as he recovered from the ruthless barrage of raspberries.
“Next we’re going to play a game,” said Roy, brandishing a pair of electric toothbrushes. “I’m going to put these on your armpits and I want you to hold them there until I’m done playing with Renley, got it?”
“I’ll try!”
“You better.”
From the moment the bristles touched his armpits, Donnie knew he didn’t stand a chance. It was like having a colony of hyperactive ants under his arms. But he was a fighter at heart so he fought against the overwhelming urge to relax his arms and let the brushes drop. He tried focusing on other things, like how hot Renley looked next to him, with his arms tied above his head, or on how horny the bear made him when he brushed his paws a second ago – he hoped he would get to feel that brush again… It was hopeless. Those buzzing toothbrushes kept an iron grip on his attention whether he liked it or not.
“Do you think you could do that, Renley?” Roy said, turning his attention to the Machoke.
“I’m afraid not, sir. I fear my armpits are much too ticklish for that.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“Never, sir! Just telling you in advance that my armpits are too sensitive for that kind of game.”
Roy couldn’t tell if the Machoke was egging him on or just lacked self-awareness. Either way, he didn’t care. He reached out to Renleys pits to do what he does best.
“Hehehehe! It tihickles so muhuch!”
Renley did a stupendous job of keeping himself relatively still. Not for any practical reasons, as his bonds were more than strong enough to hold him regardless of how much he struggled, but rather as a display of subservience to his current tickler… for about a minute. Having his pits tickled was one thing, but when Roy bent over his belly and raspberry’d him the same way he did to Donnie before his impressive display of discipline crumbled like sand in the wind.
“Bwahahaha!”
Renley fought his bonds as hard as he could, filling the living room with the creaking and clacking of his bonds along with his own booming laughter as the bear planted raspberry after raspberry over his belly button while scratching, poking and pinching his hypersensitive armpits. Yet despite the apparent discomfort, the Machoke’s enjoyment was visible for all to see between his legs.
After the tenth or so raspberry, Roy finally let up and allowed the sweating Pokemon to catch his breath. Donnie still held the toothbrushes under his arms.
“Gosh, you two are so much fun!”
“You’re a really good tickler, sir. Nearly on-par with master Kragar, I dare say.”
“I appreciate the compliment but if you think you can butter me up to get off easy then you’re sorely mistaken.”
“I wouldn’t dare!”
“Relax.” He swiped a finger across Renley’s arch, making him yelp. “I’m just messing with you.”
Both ticklees were now hard as a rock which was Roy’s cue to advance to the next stage of the session. He removed the toothbrushes from Donnie’s armpits, granting him a respite from the ceaseless tickling.
“Did… Did I win?” stammered the tiger.
“You both did, actually. You’ve been so good that I think a little reward is in order.” He held up a small machine with two clear cylinders.
“Milking?” Donnie said. “Bring it on! I can take it!”
Renley didn’t seem so sure of himself. “By all means, Master Roy, milk me to your heart’s content. But I should warn you that I lack master Donnie’s stamina.”
“Excellent.”
Roy got to work setting up the milking machine. He coated the inside of the tubes with a generous dose of lubricant before sliding them over both men’s erections and connecting the ends to the main unit through a thin hose for collection purposes. He then linked the base of the cylinders to to the unit’s air pump with another tube. After the setup was done, their cocks were no longer theirs. They belonged to Roy who could make them feel untold amounts of pleasure with the turn of a dial.
“Let’s start slow.”
He turned the dial to level one and the pump whirred to life. Donnie and Renley moaned in unison as the tubes gently massaged their cocks. It felt unlike any regular old hand-job. A hand was sloppy and clumsy while the machine was not. The machine was perfect. It stuck to its set rhythm like a trained musician and it was as consistent with its application of pressure as the best surgeon.
“Fuck, that feels amazing.”
“Indeed! Great choice, sir!”
“You’re welcome, boys. Tell you what, I’m feeling generous so I’ll also give you a foot massage.”
Before they could even think to object, massage oil was getting poured over their bare feet and massaged into every nook and cranny of their soles with special attention to the hard-to-reach crevices under and around the toes.
True to his word, Roy massaged one of each man’s feet to the best of his ability, supplementing their mechanical cock massage with a manual foot one. The effects were amusingly clear. Neither tiger nor Pokemon seemed all there at that moment. Muscles relaxed and eyes half-shut, they were lost in a mental labyrinth of bliss with no desire to find the exit.
Just as Roy wanted.
Grinning wickedly, he grabbed a pair of thick horse brushes and began a very different kind of foot massage.
“Bwahahaha! Shihihehehet”
“Mahaster Rohohoy!”
“Just keeping you on your toes, boys. This is a* tickle *session after all.”
Roy moved the brushes ruthlessly, moving them in wide arcs that covered the entire surface of the squirming soles. Oftentimes, he would surprise one of the ticklees by giving both of his feet his undivided attention.
He grew to love the way Renley tried so hard to keep his feet still and splay his toes, though he could never hold it for very long. The toes wiggling… the soles wrinkling… Those little movements made them all the more inviting to tickle.
Donnie’s paws were a lot livelier. They wagged, wiggled and paddled as the bear brushed them. He decided he would have to tie the tiger’s toes later, but for the time being he was quite content with seeing how hard he could make them squirm.
“Mahaster! I c-cahan’t-!”
The machine claimed its first orgasm. The see-through tube linking Renley’s cock to the deposit in the machine became white with the Machoke’s seed. Slow as it was, the milker had a devastatingly pleasurable effect when paired with foot brushing. Donnie caved soon after – his orgasm began before the Renley’s was over. There was a separate container for each of them, and, once their orgasms were done, they showed that the tiger had surrendered slightly more semen than the Machoke.
“Such good boys!” beamed Roy. ”That was the first of many. You’re not leaving until your balls are empty.”
He turned the dial to level two.
Kragar slipped the last of three rubber rings over the Charizard’s cock.
“How close to cumming are you, Aemond?”
“Very close, Master!”
“Then we’ll set these to ‘low’.”
Aemond squirmed in the bondage table. Half an hour of non-stop cock tickles had left him with a burning need to cum. But he would never beg Kragar for it, lest he run the risk of accidentally undermining the crocodile’s authority. No. If Kragar wanted him on edge then he would stay on edge, no matter how much his cock ached with need. After all, he had right next to him a prime example of what happened to a disobedient sub in the croc’s dungeon. Ash was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily from the intense tickling he’d just endured, his cock throbbing with need.
“I think I’ll tickle your feet some more. What do you say to that, boys?”
“Yes, master. Please tickle my feet!”
Ash stayed silent.
Digit by digit, the crocodile tied their toes back with bits of string to little metal rings at the top of the ankle cuffs.
He took a second to admire those beautiful soles. Ash’s large feet and bulbous toes looked soft enough to use as pillows. He couldn’t wait to get his roughest tools on those delicate-looking pink paw pads. Aemond’s soles looked a lot tougher (though they weren’t in the slightest) but also a lot more inviting when considering the shy Pokémon they belonged to.
He caught himself grinning as he sank his claws into the dragon Pokémon’s foot.
“Ayie! Ahahaha!”
If, hypothetically, Aemond found himself in possession of information which he’d rather not divulge, his mind could be very quickly changed with a few minutes of well delivered scratches to the bottom of his feet. Luckily for him, Kragar had no interest in obtaining any kind of information other than how long it took for him to orgasm under sustained foot tickling. With the toes out of the way, the crocodile was free to explore the full surface of the sole, drawing a mental map of the most sensitive spots as he went.
“You really hate it under your toes, don’t you, boy?”
“It tickles so much!” laughed Aemond as the crevices underneath his stretched toes became intimately acquainted with the crocodile’s claws.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, kitty cat,” Kragar proclaimed, bestowing the same scratchy treatment upon the panther’s pillowy toe-beans.
“Gahaha! S-Shihihit!”
Surprisingly – even for Kragar – the cat turned out to be even more of a tenderfoot (or tenderpaw) than the nervous Charizard.
“Such ticklish boys you two are. How do you like the sensation of my claws on your feet?”
“I’m t-too ticklish!”
“Plehease let me cum!”
Kragar frowned. “Still haven’t learned your lesson, have you, cat? How disappointing.” He pinched the very center of Ash’s paw-pad.
“EEK!! I’m sohohorry!”
“Sorry, what?”
“S-Sorry, sihihir!”
“Good cat. Keep up the good behavior and I might let you cum.”
“Thahank you, sihihir!”
Kragar wasn’t too sure that he would be able to act on that threat as Ash’s misfit penis looked about to blow. In fairness, Roy did warn him that the cat was an incurable tickle slut and was more than capable of achieving orgasm by way of foot tickling alone. Attending to that fact, Kragar shifted his efforts towards Aemond’s stompers instead. No sense in making the rowdy panther cum too soon – he knew from experience handling many subs that orgasm denial was an extremely effective way to knock a gaudy sub down a peg or two. He swapped his claws for a pair of metal pinwheels.
“Your sensitive feet don’t stand a chance against my pinwheels,” he declared, energetically running those terrible tools over Ash’s pads and under Aemond’s toes. “You deserve this for having such weak and tender feet. No… You deserve far worse. Your feet should punished every day for being so ticklish.”
His words were like a bettering ram. Whatever mental walls Ash and Aemond still managed to hold up were promptly demolished by the torrent of tickling and verbal humiliation.
Ash momentarily experienced what it felt like to be weak and powerless. All those muscles he continuously worked so hard to achieve and maintain were all but useless against the restraints. His physical might was completely ineffective against bonds fabricated to hold down creatures several orders of magnitude stronger than him. Should Kragar wish, his dungeon contained all the necessary equipment to hold down a T-rex bodybuilder or an elephant strongman down for a wild night of tickling (both of which he’d done in the past) without so much as breaking a wrist strap or a toe cuff. Ash was helpless – he felt helpless, vulnerable, ticklish. And he loved it even if he wasn’t allowed to cum.
Aemond, on the other hand, looked ready to blow. Just a couple months ago, a mere graze of his belly or poke to his side would’ve made him recoil in fear. Back then he abhorred being tickled – merely putting up with it for his trainer’s pleasure (never for very long.) That was until a faithful day of professionally-administered Tickle Therapy rewired his mind to associate the activity with the results he was seeing now. Submission, subservience, and – most importantly – arousal. Untold quantities of pure, white-hot arousal. He craved being tickled as much as his trainer craved tickling him, and was immensely gratefuk that he was now able to enjoy the electric sensations on a deeper level. When the pinwheels rolled along the arches of his trembling feet he couldn’t take it any more.
“M-master! I’m- I’m about to-”
“Cum for me, boy!”
Eyes shut and fists clenched, Aemond experienced mind-blanking bliss. For a few seconds, his brain became flooded with every pleasure inducing neurochemical it could produce. He wasn’t tied to a torture table in a dungeon any more – he was dancing on fluffy clouds under warm sunlight. He was lying down amidst sweet-smelling flowers in a beautiful garden. He was walking on the beach, relishing the pleasant breeze while feeling the sand between his toes… Actually he felt something very different between his toes. It buzzed – an electric toothbrush!
The feeling of vibrating bristles between his toes pulled him back down to reality where there was nothing but tickling and the effects of post orgasm hypersensitivity.
“Sir, plehease! I cahahame!”
Kragar grinned wickedly. “You came indeed, little dragon. What of it?”
“T-too sehehensitive!”
“And too cute not to tickle. Now laugh for me,” He dipped the electric toothbrush between each pair of the dragon’s toes in quick succession. “Laugh for your master.”
With no choice but to endure the overwhelming sensations, Aemond did just as he was told. He screamed and thrashed against the sturdy bonds as his nervous system masochistically diverted all of it’s attention to his feet. Ash watched with jealousy.
“I know what you’re thinking, cat,” Kragar said. “Out with it.”
“Well, sir… S-since Aemond came, does that mean that I…?” said Ash, making sure to mind his manners.
“That you what?”
“May I please cum, sir?”
“You may and you will – but I’m not going to stop tickling after you do. I will make you mewl like a kitten while I ravish the tender soles of your feet until you’re begging me to stop. Do you still want to cum?”
A ravenous urge washed over him at the mere thought of being tickle-tortured to the edge of insanity. He nodded profusely. “Yes! Oh God, yes please, Master!”
Kragar smiled. True to Roy’s word, the panther was a true masochist. But before turning him into a mewling kitten, he had to ensure Aemond was left properly stimulated. He untied two of the Charizard’s toes and jammed the toothbrush between them.
“Don’t you dare drop this toothbrush, boy.”
Aemond almost dropped it just as Kragar let go of it and he was forced to clench his toes around it, voluntarily allowing the vibrating bristles to ravage the sensitive skin between them. But, of course, he had no choice. The croc’s tone of voice had left it very clear that there would be consequences for failing that task. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to comply when a second toothbrush violated the in-betweens of the toes on his other foot.
“There we go,” Kragar said, turning his attention to the quivering panther. “That’ll keep him busy while I take care of you.”
Ash quaked with anticipation. His wildest wet dreams paled in comparison to the scene currently unfolding. The sight of the hulking crocodile – with that tight leather harness hugging his magnificent chest scales – looming over him, eyes burning with lustful hunger, with the helpless Charizard struggling against his unbreakable bondage in the background while suffering the best and worst of post-orgasm tickle torture. It made Ash feel very small and helpless indeed – and so very aroused.
Kargar produced a hairbrush wide enough to reach both of the panther’s soles simultaneously and moved it slowly towards them. Ash held his breath. He was teetering on the edge and knew that would push him over it. He closed his eyes as seconds stretched to minutes within his mind. His soles were his sole focus at that moment – as were the phantom tingles that he was beginning to feel as those plastic bristles inched closer and closer to his paw-pads.
“Who’s your master, boy?”
“You are, sir.”
Like thunder, the brush fell upon Ash’s feet and furiously dragged it’s bristles across the hypersensitive soles. So much of the effectiveness of tickling resides in the build-up and subsequent shattering of anticipation. The sensations that hammered Ash’s brain immediately had the expected effect of not only pushing him over the edge, but strapping weights around his legs and kicking him over it.
With a soundless cry, he shot the liquid contents of his balls all over his own belly. True to his word, Kragar kept brushing, and brushing, and brushing…
He almost tripped on the steps to his front door with his view blocked by the large box he carried in is arms. It was Donnie who opened the door for him and helped him set down the heavy box.
“Thanks,” said Roy. “I brought some stuff from from a friend’s place to use on your and Renley after lunch. I hope you’re not too tired.”
“Oh, I can’t wait! I’m having so much fun! You already milked me for like, what, three orgasms? Four?”
“Six.”
“Right, six. Guess I stopped counting at some point,” Donnie chuckled embarrassed. His sore penis hung semi-erect between his legs.
“You were too busy screaming. You got real loud when I hit that spot on your paw,” Roy was starting to become erect himself. “Anyway, let’s have lunch first before we turn my living room into a porn set again. How is Renley faring?”
A devious smirk crossed Donnie’s lips before he quickly forced a more sincere one to replace it. “Oh, yes. He just finished plating it, actually. Shall we eat?”
He was led by the tiger to the dining room where a single large plate rested upon the white tablecloth, it’s contents hidden by an elegant silver cloche.
“No cutlery?”
“None needed for this dish,” said Donnie, urging the bear to sit down. He pinched the top of the cloche and swiftly pulled it from the plate to reveal a pristine pair of Machoke feet, drizzled in massage oil and tied together by their big toes with a piece of red string shaped into a nice bow. The toes curled at the sudden breeze licking them. “Et voilà! Your favorite dish, Monsieur Roy!” he announced in a less-than-appropriate accent.
The bear took a peek under the table and burst out laughing at the sight of a naked Renley staring back at him sheepishly – wrists tethered above his head to one of the table’s legs.
“Apologies, Master Roy. It was master Donnie’s idea.”
“Seasoned with a drizzle of the highest rated sensitivity oil I could find!” Donnie placed a silver tray on the table next to the Pokémon’s feet. It contained a well-rounded selection of tools. “Bon appetit!’
Those naked soles were like a juicy steak to Roy. Slight wrinkles formed across the the wide arches and betrayed nervousness on Renly’s part. Even after being tickled all over and milked dry, he was still excited for more. Either the Machoke was a glutton for punishment or he just really liked to serve a master. “Don’t mind if I do.” Either of those options worked for Roy who let out his tongue and planted a long lick on one of the soles. They tasted lovely.
“Ayiee!” exclaimed Renley from under the table, surprised.
As Roy licked away with a tent in his pants, Donnie watched gleefully with an erection of his own. “I can help if you want.”
“The box… Open it…” the bear blurted out amidst loud slobbery licks.
Upon opening the heavy box, Donnie found a a number of metal parts tightly packaged together between layers of cardboard and Styrofoam as well as a paper sheet containing what appeared to be assembly instructions.
“I meant help with tickling him. I could crawl under the table and get his pits or something like that.”
“Nu-huh,” Roy finally pulled back to look the tiger in the eye. “You drilled two ankle-sized holes in my dinner table. You don’t get to help tickle him.”
“But-”
“Put that together,” he said, pointing at the box. “And then strap yourself in. Or did you think you could get a rest just by throwing poor Renley here under the bus?”
“Master Roy, there’s really no need for- Bwahahaha!”
“Shush, Renley,” said Roy as he dug his claws underneath the Machoke’s toes. “Be a good boy and laugh for me. And you get to work!”
Donnie sighed. He would’ve liked to tickle Renley but the thought of trying out a new tickle machine was even more exciting so he got to work assembling it.
While he did that, Roy continued to wolf down his main course. He chose a scalp massager from the assortment of tickle tools and dragged it’s plastic-tipped prongs through the valleys of wrinkles that that formed from Renley’s nervous toe-curling.
“W-Whahat is thahat!?”
“Care to guess?” He spun the massager over the toes, making sure the tips grazed each of those adorable curled digits.
“Aha! Hahaha! I-I don’t know mahaster!”
“Does it tickle?” He attacked the soft insteps of both soles at once.
“It tickles soho muhuhuch!”
Roy was in heaven. The solitary sight of big, bound, ticklish feet presented to him like an appetizing dish made fireworks go off inside his kinky mind. He fondled the Machoke’s thighs with his bare feet under the table until the tips of his toes happened to come across a stiff erection.
“My, you’re hard again? Even after all that milking? You must really love having your big feet tickled.”
“I- I- Bwahahaha! I lohohove it!”
And Roy could tell it was true. Not just for Renley but for Donnie as well (who was currently struggling to put together a large rectangular frame to which he would be strapped into in just a few minutes.) It was clear that both of them were raging masochists when it came to tickling. However hard Roy would tickle them they always seemed hungry for more. Evidence of this was the twitching cock Roy squeezed between his toes. Before it could explode and cover the bear’s large soles in whatever minuscule amount cum still remained in those balls, he let go of it and began wiggling his toe-claws over the Machoke’s rib cage.
“Did you think I’d let you cum again this soon?” He placed his soles flat on the Machoke’s belly and curled his toes over his chest, feeling him squirm underneath his feet. “No, I think I shall save your seed for the next game. For now you’ll stay on edge while I destroy your delicious feet.” And once again, he bent over Renley’s soles and lapped away at them.
“Noohohahahaha!”
He gripped all ten toes and gently pried them back to nibble at the protruding arch, gently sinking his teeth as far back as he could so he was nibbling the sensitive spots underneath Renley’s toes. At the same time, he stretched his legs as far as he could to reach the exposed armpits, guaranteeing sustained stimulation in both of Renley’s most sensitive spots.
He went berserk.
The table rattled mightily and even Donnie (who was mounting the last cluster of articulated arms) turned to see a hysterical Renley bucking and thrashing wildly under the table.
¨Plehease! Not the pihihits!” he screamed, desperate. “My feet! My feehehehet!” Were his last coherent words before a sudden torrent of ragged laughter rendered him incapable of speech.
With a brush and a pinwheel in place of a knife and fork, Roy dug into his gourmet meal, satiating his bottomless appetite for ticklish feet with the Machoke’s helpless soles and desperate laughter.
“Alright, it’s done!” the tiger proudly announced, admiring the finished man-sized contraption. ¨Now what?”
“Now build the second one.”
“More! More!”
“Please, sir! Master! Master, I can’t take it any more.”
“My pads! Get my paw pads!”
“It tickles too much between my toes! Please, master, have mercy!”
They were both covered in sweat, tears, and the seminal by-products of a dozen painful orgasms. Silicon sleeves attached to wand vibrators hugged their aching members and sent hundreds of waves of unwanted pleasure every second while a constellation of bullet vibrators attached with body-safe tape titillated their armpits, sides, belly buttons and the spaces between their toes.
“There is no mercy for ticklish boys in my dungeon. Laugh! Laugh for your master.” Kragar teased while brushing one of each men’s oil-covered feet with hairbrushes.
Aemond couldn’t take it. The crocodile’s cruel treatment was matched only by the most intense sessions his trainer had devised for him – and even then the current one was a good contender to surpass all of them in sheer intensity and arousal. His refractory period had been crushed to non-existence. If his balls weren’t already empty, he would be shooting another load right at that moment. Still, load or no load, the sensitizing effects of an orgasm still applied.
His wrists were starting to hurt from pulling on the cuffs but his body kept screaming at him to lower his arms and protect his sensitive belly and armpits. He had never considered his upper body to be that sensitive – likely due to it staying mostly unexplored in prior sessions on account of both his and his trainer’s shared fixation on feet. Speaking of feet, Aemond’s were getting a thorough working-over. From the spaces between his toes being filled with those dreadful bullet vibrators to his soles becoming intimately familiar with an army of plastic bristles.
The poor Charizard was torn between Heaven and Hell, and there was only so much of this intense assault that his tired flesh could handle.
“Hahaha! Haha… Ha…”
“Oh! Looks like someone couldn’t handle his treatment.” Kragar shut off and removed every device from the unconscious Pokémon’s body before undoing the restraints and to let him rest comfortably on the padded table. He smiled. “You’re a good lad. I can see why your trainer is so fond of you. Take a rest now.” Then he turned to Ash. “As for you, kitty cat, you’re a little tougher than your friend here, aren’t you?”
Hysterical laughter was the only reply the panther could give.
“That’s good. Just means I get to play rough with you!”
Kragar turned up the vibrator around the panther’s knotted dick and watched him squeal in a humiliating falsetto as another orgasm was forced upon him, and with it another wave of renewed ticklishness. Ash’s dark gray fur was soaked in his own tortured seat. His face was red and matted with tears. Still, as deep as his body seemed to have submitted, his face told a different story. One of defiance. That damn panther was smirking! Not smiling from all the laughter. Smirking. As annoying as this was to the discipline-loving Kragar, it also made him undeniably horny.
“Acting tough, huh? I’ll make your regret that.”
Kragar set both hairbrushes on the cat’s feet and abandoned all technique in favor of raw, vicious tickles. Ash threw his head back and let out a spine-chilling scream. The bristles combed the fur of his soles before pushing into his paw pads and stimulating his already overstimulated toes.
“Give up, cat. You know your big, pathetic feet are way too ticklish for this. Feel my brushes drag along your sensitive soles and scratch your sensitive toes.”
Ash failed to suppress another dry orgasm, and was forced to deal with the consequences on his abused body. He couldn’t quite tell where he was being tickled any more – only that he was. Well, there was one exception to that. His feet. Kragar was right, they really were too ticklish, just as he wanted them to be. The pedicured toes and pristine paw pads were absurdly efficient at converting every touch into lightning bolts of ticklishness that shook him to his very core. Another orgasm, and the great ball of fire he was currently living in became hotter and hotter. It burned body and mind alike with a indescribable lust that was just about the last thing he felt before his body could no longer carry him through that glorious experience. Ash was out cold.
Kragar stood between the two unconscious men, admiring his handiwork.
“Thanks, boys,” he whispered. “Hope you enjoyed yourselves as much as I did.”
He looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost six pm, almost time to return the tickle sluts to their master. But first he had his own raging boner to take care of.
They had been given every chance to back out and declined all of them. Roy was very clear from the beginning – once the machines started, they wouldn’t stop until they were on the brink of passing out, and they still agreed to it – agreed to be becoming playthings for the bear and his unthinking, unfeeling torture machines. And they agreed to it with lustful smiles and raging boners.
The first few seconds were easy enough, just a couple of feathers snaking between their tied toes in addition to the automatic masturbators tugging away at their aching cocks. After what they’d endured so far, that wasn’t too hard to deal with. Then, one by one, more tools were added. First was a set of pinwheels to their sides followed by two pairs of circular brushes digging into their exposed armpits (this particularly affected Renley).
During those initial minutes, Roy limited himself to watching while stroking himself to that glorious sight, gorging on the little details of the scene. He could tell you how many beads of sweat rolled down Donnie’s forehead and how many times Renley had tried to wiggle his toes free from the thin loops of steel that held them apart. But soon enough he grew tired of spectating.
“Renley?”
“Yehehes, mahaster?”
“Earlier today you were about to tell me something about Donnie.” He lowered the intensity of the Machoke’s tickle machine just enough to allow him to speak. “Do you remember?”
“Yes, master, I do,” the butler said, giggling intermittently. “Master Donnie’s worst spots are his feet-”
“Yeah, I figured that much.”
“-And if you rub his belly…”
“Nohoho! D-Don’t tell him thahahat!” shouted Donnie, peaking Roy’s interest.
“Go on.”
“If you rub his belly,” Renley continued. “He becomes quite submissive indeed.”
“Is that so? Big tough tiger likes having his belly rubbed, huh?” The blush on Donnie’s face was akin to confirmation. “Thank you Renley, that’s very helpful.” He returned the Machoke’s tickle machine to its previous level, sending him into another fit of laughter.
“You’re wehelcome, mahahaster!”
He loomed over the hysterical tiger with a large grin on his face, hovering an open palm over his taut belly.
“Plehehease! D-Don’t!”
“Oh? Are you that afraid of a little belly rub?”
“It’s humihiliatinhig!”
“Yeah, I bet it is,” with that, he planted his hand on those quivering abs and began rubbing. “Who’s a good boy?” he teased. The effects were immediate. The tiger’s eyes rolled back and his whole body relaxed even with all the tickling. His toes splayed within their bonds and he opened and clenched his fists in a kneading motion like a common domestic cat. Donnie wasn’t lying – that was rather humiliating.
“Holy shit, it *really *works!” Roy exclaimed, incredulous. It was as if the tiger was no longer, replaced by a more docile version of himself who welcomed the onslaught of tickles rather than resist it.
The bear made a mental note to try this on Ash later.
Minutes passed, and Roy progressively increased both men’s torment starting with a fluffy roller spinning against their soles accompanied by motorized pieces of fluffy string that snaked between their toes in place of the feathers. Their upper bodies became covered in spinning brushes, from their necks to their waistlines, thoroughly scrubbing everything in between. The singular exception being Donnie’s tummy which was left uncovered to allow petting. In addition to the masturbators, their genitals were treated to a small army of soft paintbrushes swishing all over their aching balls as if doing that would magically fill them up again.
As they both grew weak and lightheaded, they began to feel the dark embrace of unconsciousness wrap itself around them, only to get pushed back as Roy flicked the emergency kill switch.
“Thank you… Master Roy…”
“Why… why did you stop…? I could… keep going…”
“No you couldn’t. You were going to pass out.”
The steel restraints snapped open and the two men were free at last, standing up on shaky legs.
“Had fun?”
“Holy shit, I’m shaking all over,” Donnie said, holding out his trembling hands in front of him. “But I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t fucking awesome!”
“I concur,” Renley added. “Today was rather exciting but I don’t think I can take any more.”
“Don’t worry, Renley. It’s over now,” chuckled Roy. “Go take a shower, both of you. Kragar should be here any minute now to pick you up.”
As dusk melted into night, the headlights of a car illuminated the front door of Roy’s house. Once parked on the driveway, the driver’s door opened and out came Kragar, followed by an exhausted-looking Ash and Aemond. Roy waited by the door with Donnie and Renley.
“You lads look like you had fun,” Kragar remarked.
“Good evening, Master Kragar,” Renley said politely. “Indeed we have! Master Roy is an exceptional host.”
“Exceptional is an understatement,” Donnie added, smiling at the polar bear. “We have to do this again sometime.”
Ash stepped forward. “No kidding. Kragar is an even better tickler than you, Roy.”
“Ahem!” The crocodile glared at him.
“Erhm… M-master Kragar, I mean.”
“Wow! I see you managed to tame my kitty cat,” said Roy. “I’m impressed.”
“I have ways of turning stubborn boys into obedient tickle sluts. Aemond here was very well behaved. Be sure to treat him well, eh?”
The Charizard stayed silent, his flustered cheeks did all the speaking for him.
“C’mon, let’s go inside,” Ash said, swinging an arm around the embarrassed Pokémon’s shoulder. “I’ll give you a foot rub.”
“We should get in the car, Master Donnie. It’s getting cold and you’re shirtless.”
Once all the ticklees were out of earshot the two masters shared a moment alone.
“So who did you like more?”
Roy thought for a minute before giving an answer.
“Donnie was fun, but I’ve tickled felines before. Renley, on the other hand, was the first Machoke I’ve ever had,” he giggled. “He’s so cute when he gets all flustered.”
“He’s a sweetheart, isn’t he?”
“That he is. How about you? Did Ash give you too much trouble?”
“Oh he gave me just the right amount of trouble. I enjoyed teaching him some humility.”
They shared a laugh.
“We need to do this more often. Maybe next time I’ll try another one of your Pokémon.”
“Well… If you really want, I could lend you my whole team.”
Kragar raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “And what would I have to give in exchange.”
“C’mon. Don’t you believe in generosity?”
“I’ve been doing business for long enough to know nothing is ever really free, Roy.”
“Well, hypothetically, if you *did *want to give me something in exchange for my whole team…” The bear’s gaze fell upon the crocodile’s moccasin-clad feet.
“No.”
“I didn’t even say anything yet!”
“You don’t have to. The answer is no.”
“So you’re just going throw away the chance to tickle my entire team? Just like that!”? Kragar didn’t reply, which signaled to the bear that the gears in his head were turning, and the weighing of options was currently taking place. “Think about it… Theo, Garch, Roger… Have you ever even *thought *about tickling a Lugia before? Oh and don’t get me started on Ringo – his feet are *off-the-charts *ticklish.”
There was silence for a minute as Roy awaited the stoic crocodile’s answer with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he finally got it.
“They’re mine for a week. Ash and the Pokémon.”
“Deal!”
Kragar sat down in Roy’s couch – the same one Donnie and Renley had sat in a week prior – his feet already free from the shoes he’d left at the door. Thin, sheer socks hugged his them in a way that left little to the imagination, even their light green color came through the sheer fabric. They were relaxed, and the toes did not curl.
“Let’s use the stocks. That okay with you?”
“Sure. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Aww, come on. You’ll like it,” Roy said, gently guiding the crocodile’s ankles to the open stocks and snapping them shut. “Hold on, I’ll go fetch the handcuffs.”
“Don’t bother. You’re not tying me up.”
“If I don’t, what’s stopping you from just opening the stocks and leaving?”
“Nothing.”
Roy frowned. “Fine. How about your toes? Can I at least tie that?”
Kragar nodded, and Roy started slowly removing his socks, savoring the moment that he knew wouldn’t last. Bit by bit, the crocodile’s massive soles were bared. Roy couldn’t suppress a gasp. They were nearly as wide at the heels as they were at the arches, and the soles felt a lot smoother than they looked. Each of the ten toes was capped with a perfectly trimmed yet razor-sharp black claw. With any other man, he would’ve already buried his snout in them, but he had a feeling Kragar might not appreciate that.
“Holy… They’re beautiful!”
“Your ten minutes are counting. I’d hurry up if I were you.”
Roy wasted no more time before wrapping thin loops of string around each of the crocodile’s toes with the exception of the smallest (as that pair of stocks had been made for four-toed creatures). He spread a thin coating of massage oil over Kragar’s soles – something he usually reserved for later in a session – and dug in with his claws.
“Coochie coochie coo! Show me how ticklish these big feet of yours are!”
Kragar stayed silent, stoic, and thoroughly unamused. It turns out that tickle talk only makes for an awkward moment when the ticklee in question is actually doing a good job at resisting the tickler.
“Err… I-I mean. I’m gonna find out what makes you laugh! And then I’ll really make you scream!”
“I very much doubt that,” Kragar retorted with nary a hint of laughter.
The situation was becoming awkward fast as Roy desperately poked and prodded all over the crocodile’s gargantuan soles for any signs of ticklish spots. Under the toes, along the instep, across the arch… No touch got as much as a snicker out of the tough reptilian. Nails alone wouldn’t cut it. He reached for his brush.
“Snrk!”
Ha! Laughter! Kragar was ticklish after all! With renewed motivation, Roy brushed like he’d never brushes before, determined to make the crocodile cry with laughter.
“Snrk… Ha… Ha-!’
Almost there! He grabbed a second brush and used it on his other foot.
“Haha… Hahaha! Hahahahaha!”
Music to Roy’s ears. He’d finally managed to erode the Kragar’s façade of resistance enough for some delicious laughter to come through. Even then, he demonstrated excellent self-control simply by not using his arms to interfere with the tickling.
“There we go! Big strong crocodile is ticklish after all! How could you not be with soles like these?” Before had been too early for tickle talk but now was just the right time for it. Soon after the brushes came the pinwheels – hilariously small in comparison to the gargantuan soles but just as ticklishly devastating as the brushes. Roy worked the tiny pins along the upper curvature of the soles, occasionally dipping them inward underneath the bound toes that – rather impressively – did not struggle at all even within their restraints.
And then he saw it. That revealing body part tenting Kragar’s chinos. At that moment, Roy had two options. Option A: Act oblivious and content himself with the croc’s feet. Or option B: seize the moment. He went with option B.
“What the hell are you doing?”
With a feather in hand, Roy unzipped Kragar’s pants and freed his impressive length. Despite his protests, and despite being perfectly capable of doing so, Kragar did not interfere.
“Just making you comfortable.”
“You’re going to tickle my cock.”
“Possibly. You don’t want me to?”
“…”
“Alright, I’ll stick to tickling your feet-”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“You can tickle my cock,but you’re not allowed to use anything besides that feather.”
“Aww, but I already had the milker all ready to go.” Kragar shot him piercing glare. “I’m joking, I’m joking! Geez, you look scary like that. Let’s make you laugh some more.”
On the session went, with Roy making the most of his limited time by pinwheeling the croc’s soles while dexterously feathering his throbbing cock.
At the very last minute, he noticed a decrease in Kragar’s laughter and increase in soft moans in rhythm with twitches from his shaft. A few seconds after that, at the tail end of the session, something incredible happened.
He had just tickled an orgasm out of Kragar.
“I knew it. You *do *like being tickled!” Roy said triumphantly.
“Never said I didn’t. Now get these open, your time’s up. And uh… Do you mind lending me a pair of pants?”
They stood near the entrance to Roy’s house as Kragar slipped his moccasins back on.
“I’m taking the next week off from work,” he said as he finished tying his shoelaces. “I’ll be here Monday morning to pick everyone up. I trust you’ll have informed them of our arrangement by then.”
“Can do. They’ll be looking forward to it after hearing Ash and Aemond’s testimonies.”
“Perfect. I shall see you then.” Kragar spread his arms and Roy took a minute to understand the gesture’s meaning.
“Oh! Do you want a hug?”
“You tickled my cock. I think we’re intimate enough for a goodbye hug.”
“Ha! Fair enough.” The polar bear stepped forward and took the large crocodile in a comfortable embrace. “You just didn’t seem like the type to- Hehehey!” He recoiled as Kragar took advantage of the hug to sneakily squeeze his sides.
“There, now we’re even,” smirked Kragar, finally loosening up.
“I wouldn’t call that even*.*”
“Maybe so.” He turned back and opened the door but hesitated mid-step. “I had fun. Come by my place sometime. We’ll have ourselves a proper session.”