Toll-Booth Tickling

by

D

tickler13@hotmail.com


it was the summer of 95. we were both a little behind on our college schedule so we were both taking a single class in the summer semester at the same university. a mutual friend had arranged for us both to work a few shifts a week taking tolls for one of the many pay-parking lots on campus. boring, but the extra cash was nice and the shifts were short.

our classes were at the same time so we'd meet afterwards to run a couple laps around the track which was right next to the booth that we worked in. one day we were running together and things became a little competitive. he started getting a little cocky, inserting little insinuations that he was faster than me. eventually i'd had enough and stopped running, grabbing his shoulder to stop him as well. both of us breathing hard and dripping sweat in the summer heat i made the challenge, "okay mike, you wanna make a little bet on that?".

his sadistic streak was showing as he asked, "you got something in mind, tuff-guy?", he answered with that wicked glint in his eye that i noticed he always got at the possibility of the chance to torment me. (ever since that first bet he'd been eager to have me writhing at his mercy, and he'd had his revenge and then some!)

well, i was scheduled to work a 3 hour shift in the toll-booth that afternoon. the booth was a small little building with just enough room to stretch your legs out in front of you. there was a window which only afforded a head and shoulders view of the attendant to the endless line of patrons in their cars as they streamed out of the lot after each class let out. your only duty was to collect tolls and make change as people left. my idea was this: mike and i would race (1 mile; 4 laps) and the loser had to take the toll-booth shift while the winner tied his feet up where no one could see and tickle-tortured him whenever the lot got busy! the idea of me at mike's helpless feet, just tickling the hell out of him while at the same time he'd have to retain enough composure to deal with the exiting students really got me hot! mike apparently liked my evil idea as well because he agreed immediately to the terms and we raced...

...and thank the gods, i won!! not by much, admittedly, but i won! mike said not a word as i marched him to the toll-booth, all down-trodden in his little gray fleece running shorts and sweat-drenched jersey, knowing full well he was about to suffer yet another agonizing ordeal at my hands.

mike reluctantly informed the girl in the booth that he was there to relieve her and she cheerily left, without the slightest notion that the booth she'd just been working in was to be transformed into a mini-torture-chamber for the cute guy she'd just been flirting with (she smiled a little more than was necessary in his direction). as soon as she was gone i set to work, we had about twenty minutes before the next class let out.

i ushered mike inside and had him sit in the usual seat, but i moved the second chair in the booth in front of him , but backwards. i made him stretch his legs out straight and maneuver his feet in between the horizontal wooden slats on the back of the opposite chair so that his feet were sticking through the back of the chair, heels resting on the seat. then i sat in that chair, backwards, so that i was facing him and his feet. i moved towards his feet with my hands to remove his shoes when he suddenly spoke up. "WAIT!"

"what?", i asked, dropping my hands to the leather and canvas of his sneakers.

"well,...it's just that those are the grungiest pair of nikes i own and we've been running all afternoon, i don't think you wanna take those off....this is a small room and my feet probably stink pretty bad!"

this was such an obvious ploy that i decided to simply ignore it, only shaking my head and smiling as i quickly slipped off one old shoe then the other revealing his well-shaped feet still encased in his damp white cotton sweatsocks. his feet definitely smelled strong, but i wouldn't say they stunk. they smelled strongly of fresh sweat, leather, rubber, a little mildewy, but overall not a repulsive aroma. then i slowly peeled the sweatsocks from his feet, revealing those big, soft, tender, moist soles that almost made me melt everytime i saw them. he wiggled his sexy toes a little, either to relax them or in apprehension (not sure which).

i then reached down to the items i'd pulled from the glove compartment of my car on the way to the booth. i used a hank of soft nylon rope to tie his ankles together and then anchored them to the back of the chair. next i used adjustable metal thumb-cuffs to connect his big toes together. finally, i used one of the shoelaces from one of his discarded sneakers to tie at the center of the "toe-cuffs", then looped back over the slat of the chair- back, pulled taut and tied off at his ankles. now his feet were not only anchored to one spot, but he was forced to keep his toes arched back, which stretched the flesh of his soles tight, rendering them completely helpless and vulnerable. a beautiful sight! and it was almost time for the first wave of exiting students!!

i tried a little test, running a single fingertip up his trapped left arch. he yelped and leaned forward in an effort to block my hands from making contact with his bound foot. he couldn't quite reach though, besides once the traffic built up he'd be incapable of even that since he'd have to keep collecting tolls or face the wrath of students eager to leave school for the day!

well classes were just letting out and the first of a long line of cars was pulling up to the window through which only mike's head and shoulders were visible. " i don't think this is such a good idea", mike tried right before opening his window.

"well, tuff-guy, i think it's a great idea!", i replied cheerfully and he opened the window to his first customer, unable to stall any longer.

i let mike take the ticket from the guy, and even let him accept some bills from the man (mike kept glancing at me nervously out of the corner of his eye, wondering when i'd launch my attack), but as he was handing the guy his change i suddenly used all my fingertips to savagely scratch up and down both of his bare, trapped soles at once. his whole body seemed to jerk in response to the tormenting sensation and he dropped the guy's change clattering to the concrete. he stiffened his lips to try to hold in his tortured laughter, but with me continuing to bare down on his feet it was impossible! his curious sputtering gave way to true laughter! "you think that was funny, jackass!?", the angry customer grumbled as he leaned out his car door to collect his quarters from the pavement. "n-n-no s-s-sir.", mike managed to say without laughing, but appeared to be in a great deal of pain. then i heard the car door slam angrily and speed off. i gave mike's soles a break.

"now, now, mike...", i said mock-dissaprovingly, shaking my head and clucking my tongue. "you're going to have to do better than that..."

mike took two deep breaths before opening the window to the next customer. it was a girl and i started in on his feet as soon as he slid the window back this time. i began to cruelly run the serrated edges of my keys between his toes, alternating to hit and explore the most sensitive spots. his whole body tensed and his hands were shaking as he accepted the girl's ticket. he quickly blurted out how much she owed and then bit his lip to keep from laughing as i began running the edge of a key quickly back and forth over the top of the ball of his right foot where the toes connect, his MOST sensitive spot. by the time he'd taken the girl's money and was handing back her change his whole body was shaking, a fresh wave of sweat was running down his brow which was furrowed in concentration. "are you okay?", the concerned girl asked as she took her change.

"YES-S-S-S!!", he blurted out, "i'm f-f-f-ine". "are you sure? you look sick", she wasn't convinced. mike could only nod and bite his lip, holding back a flood of laughter. "if you say so, sweetie...", she said sweetly then drove off and he quickly closed the window and immediately broke down into hysterical laughter since i was still torturing his toes, "STOP! STOP! OH G-G-G-GOD!!!! for the love of christ, stop!!!!". i stopped after a few more seconds just as his eyes began to water from the strain. he took a couple more seconds to compose himself and take a few deep breaths. then an impatient student honked his horn at the window. mike glanced at me worriedly, poised to open the window, but afraid of what would happen as soon as he did. "go on, mike", i urged him, "two down. only dozens to go...". i chuckled sadistically as he was forced to slide the window open again...

* * * * *

he opened the window for the third time during his ordeal and, as if this action were literally a trigger for my tormenting fingertips, i immediately went back to work on his helpless feet tied so soundly in front of me. instead of a full-on attack, this time i used all of the fingers on both my hands to just lightly, very lightly, trace spirals around the balls of his feet and then down to his heels. my touches then were feather light and my nails were just barely grazing the flesh of his taut soles. i meant for the interlude to be a merciful departure from the outright cruelty of my previous techniques during his first two customers, but this more gentle approach seemed to distress him as much, if not more, than the deliberate torture earlier had.

i could see his toes visibly straining to curl up and protect the sensitive skin of his soles as much as possible. the tendons in his feet were straining to affect some movement, but were incapable even of that. other than a slight vibration within the tight bonds, his feet were kept stock still. he was utterly vulnerable to my lazy, listless touches. he wrung his hands obsessively in his lap in an effort to divert his attention from the sensations in his feet as he spoke with the guy outside his window.

i knew that mike was hoping each encounter with a student exiting the lot would be brief, limiting his tickle-torture sessions as much as possible, but this guy's car had apparently been dinged by another patron while parked in the lot and the angry student was intent on discussing his options here and now, even in the face of mike's suffering which was only apparent to myself. mike writhed in his seat as he explained to the irate young man where to go on campus to appeal for a reimbursement for damages. he could barely get the words out and spoke in a staccato, broken manner as he tried with all of his might to suppress the tortured giggling that i knew was demanding to be released from his unwilling lips. even after his options had been fully explained to him, the guy continued bitching about the damage to his car as poor mike was forced to listen, turning red with effort, beads of sweat popping out all over his brow, a beautiful grimace contorted his handsome face. as the student continued his rant, mike had to bite his lips to keep from laughing. and still the guy continued his complaints and i couldn't help but giggle myself as i watched mike beginning to bounce impatiently in his seat as he tried to will the jackass to be on his way. i decided then that i'd been nice enough and substituted the delicate touches i'd been using for a more aggressive scratching method. applying more force and using my fingernails, i began to claw his stretched-out soles from toes to heels, up and down, up and down, endlessly, as he strove to keep an expression of concern on his face for the angry student. eventually he could take no more and the explosion of laughter that had been building for the last few minutes finally escaped in a torrent of hysterical giggling. "This is FUNNY to you?! something about my car getting ruined in your lot is FUNNY!?! well, you won't be laughing once i have a little chat with your superior, you asshole!" mike tried to sputter out an apology from behind the wall of involuntary, tortured laughing, but the angry student had already sped off in disgust.

he slid the window shut quickly and i stopped the torture for the moment. mike hung his head, his face was glowing with sweat and his eyes were squeezed shut as he attempted to collect himself. he was trying desperately to catch his breath and could only manage a simple, pitiful, "please...?"

"please!?", i mimicked him, whining the word like a miserable little girl, "please?! ha ha haa! please what, mike? i'm sorry buddy, but you're gonna have to be more specific than that!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT! YOU JACKASS!!", mike suddenly realized that this was completely the wrong tact to take and immediately hung his head even lower. he looked broken...and utterly adorable. little beads of sweat collected on his brow and dropped down to his lap to dissolve into his cotton running shorts. the little room was hot. that, together with the fact that we'd just come in from running and the fact that mike had just endured fifteen minutes of ruthless torture, had him literally soaked in perspiration. he was as wet as if he'd just climbed out of a lake! the cramped quarters magnified the smell of his sweating, suffering body and feet, filling the room with the delicious scent of a freshly used men's locker room after practice. "please?", he tried again, this time in a much more polite tone, lifting his eyes up to mine and trying one of his heartbreakingly pathetic grins, "please don't tickle me anymore?". i just looked at him then, soaking up that boyish charm, watching the salty beads of sweat trickle down his face and throat to the neck of his blue t-shirt which had literally adhered to his solid, heaving chest with dampness. he gazed back at me, expectantly, the pitiful smile still frozen on his face, and i could tell he was praying that i would relent and let him off the hook. at that moment a car honked it's horn impatiently outside the window and i nodded in it's direction, implying that he should open it, and i felt my sadistic grin broaden as i picked up the set of keys on the chair seat beside his waiting feet. he exhaled sharply as a look of utter despair replaced the expectant grin, he inhaled deeply then, set his jaw in mock-stoicism, and slid the window open.

mike watched me warily out of the corner of his eye as he spoke with the woman outside the window. i hadn't yet begun to tickle him, but was teasing him a bit by gradually letting my hand, holding out an evilly serrated key from the key ring, creep closer and closer to the taut bound soles of his feet. as the tip of the key got closer i noticed, with amusement, that his toes, all but the well-anchored two big ones, were wriggling as much as possible, dreading that uncertain moment when the cold metal would make contact with the warm, tender flesh. his throat caught in his voice as he informed the girl how much she owed, his attention focused on the impending torture of his feet. finally, i pressed the tip of the unforgiving key against his left heel and quickly, forcefully, drug it up over his instep to the ball of his foot where i cruelly traced it back and forth, back and forth, sideways across the ridge. even though he'd tried to steel himself for the sensation, it still took him by surprise and an awkward, "h-h-ha-haaaaa...!" slipped unexpectedly from his lips. then i began sawing the jagged edge of the key in and out of the space between his big and second toes. the way his toes were tied had them splayed wide offering up those spots to my torments against his will. this sensation caused him to sputter unintelligibly as he handed the girl her change. and then she was gone. he closed the window then, i briefly stopped the tickling, and he tried to catch his breath, but there was already another car waiting. with dread he moved to open the window again, eyeing me nervously sitting at his feet, smiling.

this went on for the majority of the afternoon. it seemed i would never tire of watching mike battling himself to maintain some semblance of composure with each customer as i tormented the poor soles of his trapped feet. his brow almost continually furrowed with the concentration it took to endure the tickling, his body held rigid, every muscle taut, in reaction to the maddening stimulus, sweat coating his well-shaped body like a glistening layer of varnish. at one point i abandoned both keys and fingers for the most effective tool...my teeth!

i leaned over, down to his tied feet, and i could smell that delicious scent of his perspiration and old shoe leather. i began nibbling the plump pads of his big toes and he went absolutely wild! he abandoned all hope that he could keep control and commenced laughing loud and uncontrollably. as my tongue began to dip down between his toes even as i scraped the edge of my teeth along the pads of his toes, he was unable to form words at all, all he could do was sign to the confused patrons how much they owed and spastically make change for them. i delighted in this new technique, enjoying both the sounds of his tortured laughter and the tasty flavor of his moist, sweaty soles, as i began skimming across his insteps and around his heels, nibbling all the way with my teeth and my slippery tongue. he was in hysterics, tears of frustration coursed down his ruddy cheeks, and he'd given up completely trying to communicate with the exiting students, making change as quickly as possible in a valiant effort to get to the end of the long line of waiting cars. i almost felt sorry for him, but my hard cock had more influence over my actions than my pity, and i continued full-force for at least another thirty minutes. eventually my jaw began to tire and i straightened up to see mike's sweating face and wild eyes. i rested for a moment then and watched him wait on a few more customers as he gradually caught his breath.

as i replaced my set of keys to my pocket my fingers stumbled across my cigarette lighter inside. this sparked another evil idea and i fished the disposable bic from my shorts. i struck the lighter up and waved the flame slowly back and forth, smiling, in front of mike's face as he spoke with a boy at the window. his eyes widened with dawning fear as he waited on the guy, dropping his change to the concrete, distracted by what i might do with the lighter. he seemed not to have realized what he'd done as he closed the window on the boy retrieving his change from the ground. "no...please?", he whispered in terror. the sound of his fear made my cock even harder and i gleefully brought his attention back to the fact that cars were waiting. worriedly, and with one eye on me, he opened the window yet again to the next customer.

immediately i moved the flame close to the soles of his trapped feet. i let the flame lick his heels, moving it slowly up his insteps to his toes. they began to wriggle wildly as the little flame began to heat his feet up to an intensity that quickly became painful. i made sure to keep the lighter moving so as not to actually cause any lasting burns. watching his face during this ordeal was the best part! it was a riot to watch him struggle to smile at the patrons through the pain he was feeling in his feet. this roasting went on for quite sometime with him begging me even more insistently for mercy with each break between customers. perversely, the more urgent his pleading became, the harder my cock got under the thin cotton fabric of my running shorts. when he began to whimper softly in pain as i slowly traced the outlines of his big solid feet with the flame, my cock began to rhythmically pulse with the urge to come.

eventually i could stand it no longer! i threw the lighter aside, as mike breathed a sigh of relief, and i scooted up on the chair seat so that the soles of his forcibly arched soles were pressed firmly against my hot crotch. his warm heels were pushed against my balls and his tortured arches cradled the shaft of my turgid rod. his toes protruded up from between my legs and i began scraping my nails along the pads of his toes and the upper ridges at the balls of his feet then. this caused his feet to squirm as much as they could in their bondage, and the movement was translated to my hard cock pressed against them. i pushed my crotch into his soles gradually, harder and harder, as my tickling of his toes became more and more fierce. the vibrating helplessness of his suffering feet against my manhood eventually moved the sensations in my sex from urgent to imminent, and with a loud, sustained, moan of release i came hard into my shorts. i squeezed a set of his toes hard in the palm of each of my hands as i felt the hot, thick cum spread out along my thighs inside my shorts.

i slumped back then, eyes closed peacefully, and then it was my turn to catch my breath. mike was still taking tolls, but finally he was able to do it without contending with any torturous outside stimulation to his feet. i had timed it exactly right, because he was taking the toll of the very last car in the line. with mike threatening all the while to get me back, to exact his horrible revenge soon, i busied myself with untying his feet which he said were beginning to cramp from the awkward, tight bondage. and his shift in the tollbooth was over.


THE END



D
tickler13@hotmail.com


www.ropejock.com