It was a Friday night, early evening, when Tim got a call from Ronnie. Ronnie just had a fight with his girlfriend and it looked like everything was all over between them. She would be going off to college soon and was advised by her parents to break off the relationship so she could concentrate on her studies. As he was filling in all the details to his best friend, Ronnie could tell that there was something wrong with his friend on the other side of the line. Tim, who usually dominated the conversation, was almost totally silent. Eventually Ronnie asked what was wrong. Tim explained that he had failed one of his courses and therefore would not play in the big game this coming weekend. After hearing what Tim had to say, he suggested that they both get out of town for the weekend to avoid being reminded of their troubles. Tim thought that would be a great idea and they both began suggesting things to do. It was finally decided that they would go camping in the nearby Catskills on some property that was near an old Boy Scout camp they had both attended. It was beautiful, with waterfalls and view of the whole Hudson Valley.

Due to certain chores that they both had to perform at home, they didn't leave till late afternoon, arriving at the campsite around 5:00 PM. They set up the tent and built a fire just in time for nightfall. As the day grew darker, the boys got drunker as they continued to guzzle beer by the quart and share an occasional joint that Tim got from the captain of his team. As the fire wound down, they decided to cut down trees instead of looking for firewood in the dark. Since they had no place to put the empty beer cans, they took turns seeing who could throw the cans further across the stream. Tim's basketball prowess made him the winner every time. When the fire finally went out, they retired to the tent to play carts and take shots of rum from a bottle that Ronnie had gotten his hands on. It was great partying and forgetting all their troubles as they got totally shitfaced. When the rum was done, so were they--they both were in a fast and peaceful sleep...so they thought.

About a mile downstream from their campsite lived a farmer and his two sons. The farmer, Del Watson and his sons, Kurt and Sam, had had enough keeping the farm funning and had recently decided to sell the land to an environmentalist concern pending a strict survey of the property, which would take place on Sunday. They wanted everything to be just right, so they cleaned up all around the house and barn, even in the dark. During the cleanup, Sam heard some clinking in the creek. He called to his father and went to investigate. They found six empty beer cans banging against a log that was lodged in the stream. Figuring that a neighbor wanted to trash his deal, the farmer and his two sons followed the creek to the source of the problem. When they arrived at the campsite, their flashlight reflected against an empty rum bottle, aluminum cans, assorted litter and hacked-down trees. Del, his anger reaching a peak, exclaimed, "I'll teach these bastards a lesson they'll never forget!"

"No, Pa," said Kurt. "Let me and Sam have some fun with them. You be prepared for the survey people. We'll have the whole place cleaned up and have them out of here before morning...you'll see."

"Alright, but don't do no harm to them. I want this deal more than anything. Our livelihood depends on it."

The boys followed their dad downstream back to the farm to get some supplies and help with the last minute cleanup. About an hour later, the two boys returned with everything they need, including huge grins on their faces. They peered into the tent, only to find Tim and Ronnie practically unconscious. Sam and Kurt were twins both in their teens and extremely devilish since they only had each other to hang out with up in the mountains. Since Ronnie seemed to be the most out of it, they slid the sleeping bag out of the tent with him in it, and proceeded to take his limp body out of it. Ronnie was stripped of his underwear and had his hands tied to a low branch on one of the tree stumps that the boys had recently cut down. His legs were spread and tied to the top of a log from a fallen tree. He was spread out really tightly, but remained asleep.

Tim was still sleeping soundly, so they wrapped rope around his sleeping bag, making him look like a mummy. As they admired their new victim, they heard some rustling outside.

"What's that?" said Sam.

Kurt looked out and saw Ronnie moving (or trying to) in his sleep. "Which one do you want?" asked Kurt. Sam said he thought Ronnie would be fun, so he left the tent to torment his very own plaything. As Kurt admired the very tall Tim, he decided to explore a little. Slowly he began to unzip the end of the sleeping bag and to his surprise was greeted by the largest pair of feet he had ever seen. Due to his height, Dim had size 12 1/2B feet. Kurt reached out to look at them more carefully and ran his hands along the tops, being careful not to awake the sleeping Tim. He had not planned what to do to the boy to teach him a lesson, but when his fingers stroked the huge soft soles, the toes involuntarily flexed. Kurt smiled, thinking to himself, "I have a live one here..."

He immediately began running his fingers along the soles while he bent over to inhale the manly aroma of the toes. His victim was starting to squirm more and more and began mumbling incoherently. "Ronnie, cut it out...cut it out..." Then he didn't say a word. Kurt broke into a big grin and ran outside to tell his brother of the discovery. He found Sam fondling the bound Ronnie, admiring his well-developed and athletic body. He told Sam the news and Sam immediately ran his fingers around Ronnie's defenseless ribs while Ronnie shifted his body to avoid the tickling sensations in his sleep.

Kurt returned to the tent now with the intention to tickle his bound victim. Once again he began stroking the large soles in earnest and Tim started to complain in his half-sleep, "Cut it out...Ronnie, man, cut it out..." He then giggled a little. "Ronnie, you know I can't stand it."

Tim then woke very quickly when he heard a strange voice say "I know you can't stand it, that's why I'm doing it." He looked up to see Kurt in the dimly lit tent. Before he could say anything, he burst out into a fit of laughter as Kurt ran his fingers all along his soles.

"Stop, hahahahahaha, stop, who the hell hahahahahahaha are you?" There was no reply, just more torture to his bare feet. Kurt reached outside and took up a pine branch, breaking off a twig and proceeding to run the prickly twig up and down the right foot as Tim went wild with laughter.

"So, you like to destroy private property, huh tenderfoot? Well, I'll teach you city boys to act like assholes." Kurt threw down the branch and proceeded to run all ten fingers rapidly all along the soles of Tim's helpless bare feet.

Tim screamed and flexed his soles as much as he could, but since he had such large and narrow feet, it didn't do much good except to encourage Kurt to tickle him harder. He was in a terrible position with no hope of escape, trapped like a mummy with only his head and bare feet sticking out of the sleeping bag...he was in big trouble. Just as he thought he would pass out, Kurt gave him a rest and left the tent. Tim caught his breath while he heard hysterical laughter outside and then remembered about Ronnie. When they were kids, Tim used to torment Ronnie by pinning and arm behind his back and digging into his armpits without mercy. If his tormentors that out, they could drive Ronnie insane. It already sounded like it was too late.

Outside the tent, Kurt found Sam poking his fingers into Ronnie's armpits, driving the bound boy into hysterical convulsions. No matter how hard he tried, Ronnie could escape the terrible tickling. Sam's index finger was probing the hairy pit while his other hand was running up and down the boy's sides in a delicate sweeping motion. Ronnie was beside himself. Kurt told Sam to keep up the good work while he went into the backpack to get a small paint brush. Sitting next to the log, he ran the bristly brush up and down the helpless boy's bare feet. Although not as ticklish on his feet as Tim, he still went nuts with the new sensations and thought he would lose his mind. Kurt noticed that brush's effects were worse when he attacked Ronnie's toes, so he concentrated on the them. At this point, Sam was using all ten fingers on the boy's armpits till Ronnie was laughing so hard you could barely hear him. Sam let up on the armpits and began attacking their captive's heaving stomach. Ronnie's firm stomach was perfect for such torture, and when his finger entered his navel, Ronnie started bucking like a bronco and was wracked with uncontrollable laughter, much to the farm boys' delight.

Kurt tossed his brush to his brother while he began using a semi-stiff feather between Ronnie's stubby toes. Sam meanwhile delighted in running his brush inside the smooth navel while his victim swung his head back and forth in unbelievable agony. The brush went fast, then slow, fast, then slow, fast then...

The were now double-teaming their victim and he was in a sorry state. All you could hear was, "Pleeeaaase, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA, AUUGH, HAHAHAH, AHAHAHAH, OOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP STOP...."

Sam was sitting on his victim's chest with his back towards Ronnie, intent on hearing new laughter as he concentrated on the now spasming stomach. Occasionally he would reach back and dig into the neglected pits and say, "I hope you didn't think I forgot about you," then laugh.

Kurt was now having a ball sawing the feathers between all then toes while telling Ronnie, "You made a big mistake coming here. Did you think you could trash our land so you could get a higher price for yours?" apparently still thinking the two boys were hired by a competing neighbor.

All of a sudden, Sam said, "Hey Kurt, the flag's up," referring to Ronnie's erection with laughter.

"Let's make it wave," said Kurt, as they both sped up their efforts. Kurt was now using two feathers between Ronnie's big toes, while same ran the brush rapidly around the navel with one hand while his other hand stroked Ronnie's erection.

"HAHAHAHAHAH, stop, please, stop, ahahahahahhahahah, noooooooooo." Then Ronnie's body went limp. A second later, Ronnie shot his load like a volcano.

"Now, you see what you went and did. You always go too far," said Sam.

"No problem, there's always the big guy!" They both smiled and got up and headed for the tent.

While they were torturing Ronnie, Tim was trying to get loose without much luck. As the tent flaps opened, Tim struggled even harder....but it was no use...he couldn't get loose.

"Guys, please, we'll clean up, plant new trees, anything, just let us go. C'mon, we didn't mean anything...we'll make it up to you...I have some money...take it, go ahead," Tim pleaded.

Kurt looked at Sam and said, "Whaddaya think?"

Sam thought for a moment and said, "You take the right foot, I'll take the left."

Tim's eyes went wide with horror and then he went crazy with laughter. Sam, amazed at the large sole before him, went to town stroking it with his fingers while bending the long slender toes back. Kurt was using the paint brush between the long toes while his index finger made circles and patterns on the sensitive flesh. Tim was in a high state of deliriousness from the constant laughter.

"Hey Kurt, this sole tastes pretty good," Sam said as he began nibbling on Tim's sensitive instep. Tim began screaming with laughter as Kurt began doing the same with the other foot. The screaming was so loud that the two farm boys failed to hear Ronnie, who had managed to free himself, swing a log that caught Kurt on the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Sam pushed Ronnie aside as he bolted from the tent, heading back to the house, abandoning his brother.

Ronnie untied Tim and they both made their escape back to the car with all their gear. They got into the car and flew off down the road. As Ronnie settled back with a sigh of relief, he said, "Thanks for the camping trip...TENDERFOOT."

Bill Cory
bill.cory@gte.net