You can find part one here

Chapter 3

We lay, curled up together, almost spooning, but more nesting really, for quite a while. As he recovered, my furry little friend started to open up about what it was like.

“I knew it would be an intense sensation, but I just didn’t know it would crawl into every corner of my brain and body. It scared me a bit just how good and how right it felt to be tied up, naked, being tickled. It felt like you were tickling me everywhere all the time. At the end, it just got even worse.” He paused, thought for a while, and smirked, adding, ”and better!”

His lips reached towards me and we kissed, long and hard, his head resting on my hairy chest, as he came down from the heights of sexual euphoria. His cock was still swollen, but I was determined not to touch. I was saving that.... We talked some more, then had a beer, and some snacks. He seemed to have revived fully now, which was good. It was early evening, the sun glancing through the rooflights, bathing the bed in a warm, summery glow. I was itching to see what the early evening light would do for that body hair when I got him tied down again, ginger hair and sunlight do wonderful things to each other!

I popped off to put dinner in the oven, a light casserole that could stay there for hours and wouldn’t ruin. When I appeared in the doorway, he was lying on the bed, touching himself. “That’s quite enough of that, young man, it’s clearly time you were tied to the bed again!” I said.

His face lit up, and, unbelievably, he lay down, on his front, spread eagle again!! Clearly an eager beaver!

“Other way up this time, sunshine!” He hesitated.... then turned over, looking a little worried. “You should look worried boy, I’m going to play with your cock and balls now, for as long as I like. Oh, don’t you worry, I will also tickle you, lick you, tease you, toy with you and take you from the highest plateaus of pleasure to the most dismal depths of despair in an instant!”

With every word, his cock was engorging with blood. The damned thing wouldn’t stop growing. It was at least 7” long, and stout too – delicious! Uncut, of course, and throbbing as it rose and fell in time with his quickening heartbeat. He was lying as instructed and I tied him down, popping a pillow under his head so he could see what was coming. When your cock is being teased and milked, sometimes being able to see what’s coming only makes it worse. For him, I was sure it would.

I was right, his body in the early evening sun had an even more delicious look, the haze of body hair looked like a magical aura as he lay there. I could have stared for hours. I decided I wanted to get him nice and oily, so that he’d enjoy having his cock played with more, and so his nipples would be more sensitive – hell, most things would be more sensitive. I have a special oil I mix sometimes, which combines the best of lots of different types, with a few secret ingredients. Once it’s gently warmed, it feels amazing when it’s rubbed on. I could tell it was working on him, when I started on his belly. He was moaning in seconds, wriggling a bit when I paid special attention to his belly button. As I moved up towards his pits, using firm strokes, he looked nice and relaxed. A quick change in tempo in his pits, with some fresh oil, and he was wriggling everywhere. His pit hair was glistening as my fingers wriggled and raked through it, tickling every inch of his pits. His face grew red as he laughed and screamed, and I passed on up his arms. As relief started to grow on his face, back down to the pits for some more, merciless tickling, popping up under his chin, which he hated!

Up to the forearms and hands now, tickle the palms – more screaming – then back down to the chest. I knelt by the bed, and kissed him as I played with his nipples to lull him into a false sense of security, then I couldn’t decide – pits, sides or belly, and then thought I should have all three, so did a quick tour of all three with my tickly fingers. He tried to break the kiss, but my tongue was almost tickling his tonsils so he couldn’t, he just had to writhe and wiggle. Down the legs now, concentrate on the backs of the knees, and scrape fingers down the thighs, lovely. He started to beg as I passed his knees, down his shins, give the calves a good rub, then the ankles, and onto the soles. I held a freshly oiled hand on each sole and waited, watching him. He was tense, as if steeled for something dreadful. I waited. He watched. I wanted to wait till he was just starting to relax, or got distracted. We both waited. He started looking more nervous. I knew that if I looked over at the clock, he would too, and that would be my chance to catch him unawares. It worked brilliantly. As my fingers scraped and tickled his soles, his back arched as best he could, and he bounced all over the place, writhing in his bonds, a look of desperation on his face. I kept going for quite a whil, and then carried on for longer. I was so enjoying the reaction I was getting. His face was red, flushed, as was his chest, he was screaming, begging, writhing and laughing simultaneously. I seemed to have got entranced, and slowly came back to reality, realising I must have been tickling his feet for quite a while. His struggles were less vigorous, and he looked as if he’d been to hell and back. He clearly needed a change of tempo, so I stopped. The trick of a really good tickle session is continuous sensation. Rest is for wimps – as they say, a change is as good as a rest.

I kissed him deeply and allowed my hand to follow the hair to his cock. Just grazing the bottom of his cock, I went for his balls and rolled them in my hand. Now he was purring, recovering from his foot ordeal. Breaking the kiss, I told him, “If you cum in the rest of this session, without my permission, you will be tickled all night long, and all day tomorrow. I have plenty of men lined up to give me a break, if you do. So, be careful boy, or you never know what will happen.”

As his face contorted between worry and intrigue, I started to play with his dick, sucking it a little, to distract him and really make him groan. Then, popping an ice cube in my mouth and rolling it around, I wanked his cock until he was getting close, and asked him if he’d like me to stop.

“Oh fuck, yes please, if you keep going I’ll cum.”

“Good boy, just tell me if you think you’re going to cum and I’ll stop.... for a moment... or I might even stop your orgasm another way.”

Well, that got his interest!! I backed off, just stroking his thighs slowly, then went back to his cock. Precum was pooling on his belly amongst his pubes. I scooped it up, coating my palm, and with the other hand, grabbed his cock firmly. As one hand wanked his cock up and down, the other rubbed circles on his cockhead – a most unusual sensation which is both pleasurable and unbearable, and most importantly, stops a man from cumming. Cue more writhing, wriggling and quite a lot of begging. He nearly broke the bed when I sucked him with my ice cube-cooled mouth. It clearly had the desired effect! Then I backed him off orgasm again.

“No, I won’t stop. You should thank me, I’m making sure you don’t cum!”

I kept going, he kept begging – in between moaning with pleasure, and the exquisite torture of being backed off from orgasm of course.

“Oh, that feels so good, don’t stop!”

“Remember, if you cum, you’ll be tickled all night and all day tomorrow.”

“Oh it feels so good, don’t stop. Oh, please let me cum, oh fuck, please let me cummmm! I’m getting close.”

“No, you must not cum.”

As I started to back him off from orgasm, he started to beg again. He was desperate. Barely coherent. So, I agreed to stop. He was most grateful, which was nice, until he saw me pick up the blindfold.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“It’s for you.”

“But I thought you were stopping.”

“I have stopped wanking your cock. I didn’t say I was finished with your body yet, though, did I?”

“Please, no more, I’m exhausted.”

“It’s OK, I’ll soon freshen you up.”

Blindfold on. More tickling – lots more. He really was exhausted when, after a good three hours, I untied him, and let him rest for a while. He promised me he had thoroughly enjoyed it. That night, we curled up together, watched a film, and both slept soundly. The rest of that weekend passed in a frenzy of tickling, cum control, milking and edging. We didn’t get round to trying the eye in the ceiling, to get him really defenceless, but it intrigued him as a possibility. On the Sunday, he asked if he could come back the following weekend. Who was I to disagree?

Chapter 4

As he left after our first weekend, I made James promise not to wank all week. He was to ring or skype me each evening, to tell me how he was doing with not wanking. On Tuesday night, while he was skyping me, my carpenter, Chris, who had done the work fitting the eye in the ceiling, and one or two other preparations, said he had something for me – could he pop round with it tomorrow night. Of course, I said yes. My little friend was still on Skype while this was going on. So, next evening, I was skyping James from my bedroom, wanking myself to tease him and make his deprivation worse, when the doorbell rang. Shit! Carpenter!! I quickly threw some jogging bottoms and a t-shirt on, and hurtled down stairs to let him in. Now this carpenter is not your usual hairy-arsed builder. He was introduced to me by one of my tickle buddies when I needed some work doing. He’s gorgeous. Square, broad shoulders, thick black hair and an equally thick, short beard – not stubble, a full beard, but carefully trimmed and looked after. His chest bulges forward, over a tight tummy that shows little sign of flab. Tight, big arse cheeks fill his trousers, and there’s something large alive at the front too!

It was a warm evening, and he was wearing shorts – short shorts, so short in fact I was sure there was arse cheek showing in the legs. And those legs. Man. Thighs like tree trunks, covered in thick black hairs, and calves that would feed a family. I was having a hard time concentrating!

“Hi mate, I was doing some research and thought this might come in handy for you with your, er, friend.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t mind showing you out here, but you might be a bit embarrassed, it’s stocks.”

“Oh, best bring them in then.” I smiled, trying not to be too polite, conscious my little friend was hanging on skype upstairs.

“I’ll put them in the bedroom shall I?”Before I could stop him, he was halfway up the stairs. A bottle of lube and a Fleshjack were sitting on the bed, and I’d not picked up my pants in my hurry. Shit. How embarrassing!

As I reached the bedroom, he had whipped the cover off the stocks (which were amazing!) and was examining my Fleshjack while he chatted to James (for that was his name) on Skype. James looked mesmerised by this hairy hunk, and also surprised and nervous.

“Sorry you had to find this up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“That’s OK, it’s quite a turn-on, and we did say you owed me some fun for doing that ceiling eye for you didn’t we? Why don’t we show James here just how ticklish you are? I can show you how to use the stocks at the same time.”

Helpfully, James piped up “oh cool, I’ve got all evening, I can’t wait!”

“Well that’s settled then.” Said Chris, the carpenter. Apparently I didn’t get a say, and before I could protest, Chris had lifted me over his shoulder, and his huge hand was pulling my jogging bottoms off. In what seemed like less than a second, I had been stripped, and plonked on the bed with my feet in stocks, which Chris was now shutting and locking. He was asking James where I kept the handcuffs. I hadn’t put them away, so they were still under the bed. As I tried to fight Chris off, he ticked me off like a child “Oh no you don’t, you owe me this.”

T-shirt off, I was now completely naked, except for the cuffs being fitted to my wrists, and I couldn’t see my feet, which were on the other side of the stocks. James had an evil gleam in his eye, as Chris finished fastening the cuffs, then secured them to loops on top of the stocks. So, both my hands and feet were secured to the stocks, and I was sitting there, naked, arms outstretched, feet, pits, hole and cock completely exposed, unable to get away.

Chris was grinning, and stripped his top off, revealing a formidable chest, with big, brown nipples crowning enormous pecs. “Suck!” he ordered, pressing a nipple in my face, while he rubbed my back with his huge, workman’s hands. So I sucked. I have to say it was no chore – he was clean and his nipples tasted a little salty, and were great to tease with my tongue. I was happily occupied with those nipples, not really paying attention to what his hands were doing. So it came as quite a shock when they were tickling my pits. Because of the way I was attached to his nipple, it was almost like I was in a headlock, so I couldn’t escape. In spite of the size of his hands, he was certainly not rough, giving me just the right combination of pressure and movement to make it unbelievably tickly. I was writhing all over the place, but held still by the bonds and his huge body. His hands were tickling up my sides, across my belly, and between my thighs. I was going wild. Because my feet were held up off the bed by the stocks, and my arms held forward, I couldn’t wriggle out of the way – my bum stayed exactly where it was.

Chris stood up, and looked at James on the screen. James was mesmerised, and had a gleeful grin on his face. Chriswent and sat on the floor, on the other side of the stocks, at my feet. I kept thinking I could feel his fingers on my feet, but I couldn’t be sure. Anticipation is often worse than tickling, and it was now. I could see James laughing, having a joke with Chris. Perhaps the worst thing about anticipation is that there’s only one way for it to end.... tickling. And when Chris started, he went to town. Both hands working both feet, and I was sure I felt a tongue in there too. James was egging him on, providing hints! “Get the string out of the box and run it between his toes” or “Get an ice cube out of the freezer and rub it on his soles, or tie his thighs together and dump a few between them.”

Between hysterical, breathless giggles, I managed to say “James, haha, you’ll, oh GOD that tickles haha, you’ll haha pay oooooh for oooohhahahahaha this”

With the benefit of not being within reach, he replied, “yeah, yeah, promises, promises” Helpfully, Chris chimed in, “That’s right. James, if Stu here doesn’t give you an amazing session this weekend, you just ring me, and I’ll come and sort him out.”

“Oh great” was about all I could muster, dripping with sweat, my feet glowing from the friction, as Chris came and sat behind me, wrapping me in a bear hug from behind, so he could hold me still and still tickle me. In my ear he said, “I could even bring Paul to help as well.” (Paul was the friend who introduced me to Chris)

“Make him cum” came James’ voice. “Then tickle him more, he’ll go nuts!”

“You will pay for that” I shouted at the computer, where James’ face just smirked.

“What a good idea!” said Chris. He retied my hands so I was now lying flat on my back, arms over my head, with my feet still in the stocks. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, and found the baby oil in my box of tricks. He smothered his front with it, and climbed onto the bed, shuffling towards me on his back. Being rather strong, he lifted my body off the bed, and wriggled underneath me, leaving his hard cock poking up between my legs. My knees were still tied together, so he had a nice oily pocket for his cock. He rubbed more oil on me, lubing up my cock, and tickling oil all over my belly. The more I writhed, the more his cock got stimulated. He was rubbing his beard in my pits, which tickled horribly, tickling my belly with one hand, and the other huge paw was wanking my cock. He was muttering filth into my ear about what he was going to do to me the next time. Between the oily hands on my belly and cock, the beard, the feeling of his cock between my legs (it felt HUGE) and his mutterings in my ear, I was going wild, I could feel myself getting dizzy as if I was about to faint. He must have noticed because he stopped everything other than wanking my cock. I could tell he was close to cumming, and I started to recover a bit as I could feel my orgasm approaching.

“We’re going to cum together, boy, I know you’re close now, and I am too, so here we go....”

He was working my cock furiously, and tickling the head of his with his other hand. It was him writhing more now, growling beneath me. “Ohhhhh fuuuuuck, here goes. NNNNah!”

We were both squirting huge amounts of cum, and most of it was landing on me, splattering my chest, some even hitting my face, it felt amazing. Even as I was still recovering, I felt Chris’ hands move. I knew, with dread, what was coming.

“No, please, n......”

I didn’t manage to finish the word, before I was screaming. Chris’ hands had dived into my pits, and were tickling them furiously. I was in tickle hell. It was totally unbearable. God, he was licking my ear too, which made it worse. Then he started wanking my cock again, playing with the head, while his other hand seemed to be everywhere at once. My head was swimming again, unconsciousness not seeming far away. Just as I felt I was slipping, Chris stopped, and held me in a bear hug, kissing my ear, not trying to tickle me.

After a few minutes he slid out, and untied me. He said to James that he would take care of me, and James went, looking rather shocked at how intense that had been. Chris, meanwhile, had picked me up, and was carrying me to the bathroom, where he had run a bath for us. We lay there, me practically asleep, both glowing from the experience.

After the bath, me still lying in Chris’ arms, we talked long into the night, falling asleep occasionally, then waking, sometimes kissing, making out, and falling back to sleep. We both pulled a sickie on the next day, and spent the day lounging in each other’s arms. I couldn’t wait to see James at the weekend, I had some very special plans in store for him!!