Think of me as a fly on the wall. I can tell you things that go on in this apartment building--secret things. I have my ways. I live next door to three guys in their mid twenties, and I have seen and heard some things that they definitely would want to keep quiet.
For about a year, only two guys lived in the apartment, Mark and Will. Mark was the smaller of the two, but he led Will in a subtle way. The walls are paper-thin in this joint and I could hear most of their loud conversations. Mark was slightly sarcastic and kept Will in his place with well placed barbs. Nothing too mean, but enough to dominate. If Will suggested a movie, Mark would make fun of his choice and end up picking out the flick they would see. Same thing with TV shows or card games. ("Dude, where did you learn to play poker?" "C'mon, Willie, my grandma can do more sit-ups than you." "No, man, you can watch the video later. It's time for the Simpsons") The guys were apparently straight, but I never saw many chicks around.
Funny thing is, Will could have kicked Mark's ass, but he never seemed to have the will, if you will. Mark was about 5' 9 " and weighed about 155. He was in great shape and had an athletic swagger. His brown hair was short and usually slightly messy. His skin was taut and smooth over his whole body and tanned to a golden color in the summer. He played soccer with a club team. Cute 24 year old in his first professional job after college. Still had that frat brat look.
Will was 6' 185 lbs. and was built like a hockey player, which he was. He too had short brown hair, but he was hairier than Mark, at least on his chest. He seemed content to let Mark call the shots and the two got along like two best buddies.
Then, Stan moved in. He was a friend of somebody's cousin and had just moved to the city. The guys had been looking for a third roommate, and Stan happened along at the right time. Now, Stan was something different. He was about the same size as Will, but he had a much larger presence. He had jet black hair but a fair complexion. The first time I saw him, in the hall, he had at least one day's worth of beard and he looked dangerous. Stan seemed supremely confident and he had a smirk on his strong face. I later learned that smirk was always there.
It's funny how delicate dynamics can change when a new element is added. The conversations coming from 3D began to take on a different tone. Slowly but surely, Stan was taking over. His strategy was simple but effective. Mark would start to belittle Will and Stan would slyly come in on the side of Will. "Hey Will, I can't believe you missed that last shot at hoops last night. The guys were pretty pissed."
"Mark, didn't you actually throw the ball to the other team? That's what Buzz told me at work," Stan said.
"Yeah right. I could kick your ass in basketball, Stanley."
"I doubt it, but I wrestled in high school. You know, what the men did when the boys played basketball. By the way, you seem awful short to play basketball. What are you, about 5' 5"."
It sounded like a wrestling match ensued, but the voices became garbled and I couldn't tell. Lots of banging around and grunts, though.
I decided then and there that my spying needed to be taken to a new level. The super and I have a ...special relationship. Ever since that time I caught him in the laundry room stealing socks and underwear out of the washing machine, he's been pretty happy to do what I say. The photo I snapped of him action helps too. I am always with the tools of my trade.
Fischer, that's the name of the Super, drilled a few nice holes in the walls of 3D in strategic places. Man, I could see right in. I thanked Fischer by tying him to the water pipes in the basement and tickling his pits for an hour. Fischer hates to be tickled and he hates being tied. Too bad. He's a young stud that needs to be punished.
With my view into 3D, TV became redundant. I saw the clash of Stan and Mark, and three guesses who came out on top.
The bantering continued in the same vein, with a sarcastic comment by Mark, a rebuttal by Stan and a wrestling match with Mark pinned beneath a grinning Stan.
"OK, OK you got me again. Now let me up."
"No way, little dude. I like you like this. You look cute when you get mad. Your face gets red. Let's see if I can make it turn blue."
With that, Stan tweaked Mark's pert little nose which made him sputter and spit. This was better than the WWF. Mark got madder and madder, but he couldn't get up until Stan let him. When Stan did let him go, chuckling all the while, the furious Mark went for him.
"Don't you ever learn, little boy," Stan asked as he put Mark right back down on the ground. He had his knees on Mark's upper arms and his butt on his chest. Stan decided to take it up a notch.
"Hey, Will. Get over here, Dude."
"What's up....Oh, Mark, dude, you down again? Ha Ha Ha!"
"Shut the fuck up Will. I'll take care of you later."
"Mark, you need to be nicer to my friend Will. Show him some respect."
Stan turned to Will and looked him over. "How long have you had those sneakers, Will?"
"I dunno, since college, I guess."
"Take `em off."
"Take your shoes off. I have an idea."
Mark started struggling harder under Stan. He had a bad feeling about this.
Will kicked off the ratty Nikes and stood there in grungy white socks. Stan grabbed one of the size 12 shoes and took a whiff.
"Whew! These babies are ripe. Don't you think so Mark?" Stan lowered the open end of the sneaker on to the disbelieving face of Mark and held it over his nose and mouth.
Will hooted, Mark sputtered and tried to hold his breath and Stan smirked. After a few minutes, Stan removed the shoe to reveal a face twisted with fury.
"I will kill both of you. I swear you motherfuckers..."
"Will, this little guy is talking too much, don't you think? Give me one of those dirty socks you're wearing, OK?"
Mark's eyes got wide as Will pulled off one of his socks and Stan held it in front of his face, stretching it out and letting it dangle in front of his nose.
"This is for your own good. We don't want you to say something you might regret later." Stan stuffed the smelly sock into Mark's still cursing mouth and tied the other now available sock around his head to hold it in.
"There, you look better already. Now for the next part of this little adventure, you are going to kiss Will's feet or you are not getting up. I'll take out the sock when you nod your little head. Got it?"
Mark shook his head furiously.
Mark's t-shirt had come loose out of his pants and his flat, tan belly was expose. Stan reached down and wiggled his fingers in the area around the belly button and the show was on! Mark bucked liked a bronco and snorted through the gag like a panicked thoroughbred, but cowboy Stan was in control.
"Kitchy Koo, little Denny. Man, I just knew you were ticklish. This is going to make our relationship even more special."
Stan sped up the tickling on Mark's bare belly. I could see the smooth, supple skin writhe under the teasing fingers of Stan, and I relished the tormented look on his face.
"I can keep this up all day, baby. Maybe I could tie you down and check out your pits. Hows about that?"
Mark lasted another five minutes, but the tickling, the dirty socks and the helpless feeling of being trapped by Stan got to him and he finally started making noises that he would kiss Will's foot. Stan removed the wet gag and smiled an evil smile at Mark whose face was red and sweaty. "Good boy", Stan said in an affected, sweet voice.
The snickering Will held his big bare foot over Mark's face and wiggled his toes. Mark groaned as the foot descended, and after only a brief hesitation, kissed the foot. Both guys hooted and Stan let the exhausted Mark up, but another corner had been turned and Mark had lost more than he realized.
From that point on, things deteriorated rapidly for Mark and got far more interesting for me. Stan abused Mark more frequently and in more humiliating and devious way. Stan loved to get Mark helpless and tickle the shit out of him. Mark always fought like a wild man, but he was always subdued and he always, and I mean always, got a huge boner when Stan worked him over.
The first time that Stan tied Mark down and tickled him was a night I won't forget. Stan's torture sessions were getting longer and more intense and bondage was the next logical step. That first time, Stan had Will help him tie the wildly struggling Mark to the bed in a classic spread eagle after one of the wrestling matches. Mark just had on a pair of shorts and white socks, one of which had come off during the struggle.
"Here we are again, precious. Dude, how do you get yourself into these predicaments? You know I'm gonna have to tickle the shit out of you now. You look too good all stretched out there. I think you must like this or you wouldn't let it happen. I mean, you can't be that weak, can you? Maybe you are. In that case, you deserve this."
Stan sat down on the bed near Mark's tied feet.
"Man, I love tickling your feet. You get so mad, but then you laugh like a fucking idiot. Don't you hate having another dude mess around with your feet? Big, or I guess in your case little, soccer player with ticklish little tootsies. Just think what would happen if your team knew your little weakness. Maybe I'll invite those guys over some night. Think they might want a shot at these dogs?"
Mark looked panicked. "C'mon Stan, quit messing around."
"Dude, I just started messing around."
Stan started wriggling his fingers near Mark's one bare foot, and Mark started struggling and trying to move the vulnerable foot away.
"I'm gonna get `em Mark. I'm gonna tickle your toes, dude."
"N-no! Not while I'm tied up!"
Stan's fingers made contact with the bare foot and Mark spasmed.
"Kitchy kitchy koo", Stan drawled.
Stan went nuts on that bare foot, using all his fingers to drive Mark wild. He tickled the sock foot for awhile and then ripped that one off. Mark wiggled his toes and scrunched up his toes, but to no avail. The sounds he made were inhuman.
When Stan got tired of working over the feet, he climbed up on the bed and lay next to Mark who was red-faced and crying. He put his hand over Mark's chest and rested his fingers on Mark's stretched triceps. Mark looked nervously at the still hand so close to his open armpit.
"Poor baby. Too much for you? How do you like being tied up, Den-Den? I'm not letting you up, guy. I'm gonna play with you for as long as I feel like it."
Stan started moving his fingers just a little bit, but Mark went rigid.
"No, Stan. Please. C'mon, man, not there."
"I don't know what you mean"
During this dialogue, Stan's fingers were slowly but surely moving towards that wide open pit.
"Do you mean.....Here!" Stan struck and his fingers started poking and grazing Mark's stretched out armpit. The sensation of Stan's strong fingers in that sensitive armpit made Mark gasp. He had never felt anything like the tortuous tickling and he knew he had no hope of bringing his arm down to protect that spot that was not meant to be touched, let alone tickled, by another guy.
Stan spent all afternoon working that guy's body. He was relentless and he kept up a steady stream of taunting dialogue that had Mark panting and me wild with lust. I shot three loads that day, but poor Mark got no relief even though his cock almost burst through his shorts. No, the cock torture would come later.
Stan continued to lead Mark down a path of total domination in the weeks that followed. He eventually stripped Mark naked and teased the hell out of that cock. He got Mark to the point of begging him to rub his aching cock with his bare foot! Even then, Mark rarely got to come as he was now tied to his bed at night with his hands far away from his hard cock.
One of the most obscene scenes I ever witnessed happened last night. Stan had a naked Mark on his lap as he watched a movie on TV. Mark had his hands tied behind his back and his ankles lashed to the legs of the chair. Mark's bloated cock was tied off with a leather band so he was unable to cum. While he watched the flick, Stan played with Mark's body. His fingers strummed along the sleek torso, tweaking and tickling the nipples and ribs. Stan was eating popcorn, so his fingers were greasy. He dripped butter onto Mark's hard cock and used his fingertips to tease the underside of the shaft and the cockhead. Some of the butter dripped onto Mark's tied bared feet, and the guy's dog lay there and licked away. I couldn't hear what Mark had to say because he was gagged with one of Stan's dirty socks, but his head was thrown back and he was writhing and moaning. Stan was whispering something into his sensitive ears and I could see the goosebumps from where I was sitting. That Stan is one sadistic bastard.
I just found out Stan and Will are leaving for a week. Mark thinks he will have a break from his constant torment, but I have been snapping photos. I can't wait to get my hands on those smooth looking feet. I bet I can get him screaming faster than Stan.