Always the trouble maker, Tom "the baby", had been getting on his brothers' nerves all day with pranks and mischief. Tom was smaller and quicker than the others. The family resemblance ended with their crooked grins and shiny dark hair. The older Cruise boys were on their schools' football teams. They were muscular and broad. They had a hard time getting a good grip on the slippery Tom. And if they ever did, their parents sided with the smaller Tom who knew just how to look cute and helpless when necessary.

Today, Tom was especially frisky. The twins were fuming with every new trick that young Tom played. But Jack the oldest knew something that Tom didn't. Their parents were going out tonight. And Tom would be all alone in the house with his victims.

7 PM and Tom hears a car leaving the driveway. Damn! If one of his brothers is going out, there is one less person in the house to tease. Tom runs to the window putting aside the pack of onion-flavored chewing gum. He sees the car as it pulls away down the street.

Uh Oh. Mom and Dad. They left. I'm all alone in the house with ...

"TOM! Tommy!! C'mere Tom! We want to talk with you!!"

Tom hears great big feet thumping up the stairs to his bedroom. In a flash he starts dragging furniture up against the door. Just in time. He hears the twins start pounding on the door and calling him, their identical voices blending into one.

"Whatsamatter Tommy? Aren't ya gonna let us in? Your brothers who you have been having fun with all day? Now it's our turn to play."

"I'm sleepy, guys, okay? Maybe tomorrow.", Tom says as he jams his back against the dresser to press it harder on the shut door.

A noise at the window. Jack! Where's Jack! Tom spins away from the dresser to stare drop-jawed at the sight of his big brother squeezing himself through the window. Jack has dragged the ladder from the garage, leaned it up against the house, all to get at Tom. "Gotcha!" yells Jack as he drops to the floor a few feet in front of hyperventilating Tom. A few quick laps around the room and Tom is struggling in the embrace of Jack's biceps. The twins burst into the room, the dresser sent crashing to the floor by their efforts.

They wrestle Tom to the ground. Jack calls the shots. "To the weight room!"

Now Tom really starts to fight. He knows what happens when they take him to the weight room.

Fighting is useless. The three hulking brutes drag Tom to the basement. "The weight room" has barbells, steel plates, and all the equipment that has helped build the powerful physiques of Jack and the twins.

The three boys have little trouble peeling the clothes off their little brother. Soon Tom is wearing just his white sweat sox and clean white jockey shorts. (And we all know what that looks like.) They have as little trouble tying Tom to the weight lifter bench in the center of the room. His semi-naked body is stretched out on his back, his hands tied over his head to the frame. His legs are tied straight out to a 250 lb. barbell. He is going nowhere.

Tom threatens: "Wait till I tell Mom and Dad! You guys are gonna get it! I mean it! Let me go or you're all in big trouble!"

The boys don't care. They want revenge whatever the consequences. Jack speaks to the twins. "Watch him! I'm getting the things"

Jim and Sam stare down at their brother. Superior smirks are on their faces. Tom is twisting on the bench. Flecks of sweat dot his chest. The chilly basement air hardens his dark brown nipples.

Tom stretches his neck to see where Jack goes. The big football player is reaching for what is hidden behind the couch. Now Tom knows for sure what Jack is getting.

Tom begs: "Guys, please!, let me go! I won't tell anybody! I promise I'll be good! PLEASE!! I'll give you money!"

Save your breath Tom. You're in for it now.

Jack opens a small brown paper bag. He takes out three identical items. He distributes one each to Jim and Sam and keeps one for himself.

Tom stares with fascinated horror at the thing. He remembers what it is (for sure) but can't look away.

It is a back scratcher: a polished wooden stick with a carved hand at the end. The hand is open. The fingers extended as if to scratch an itch. But that is not how the Cruise boys use it. So they don't call it a back scratcher. They call it something else.

They call it the Tom Tickler.

Jack, Jim and Sam are in no rush. They know Tom hates the anticipation of being tickled almost as much as he hates the tickling. They play airplane with the wooden sticks in their hands. Zooming them through the air over the stretched out body on the bench.

Finally, Jack gives the command: "Coming in for a landing!"

Tom yowls. The three wooden hands touch his ticklish skin. The twins have each settled into a dark, furry armpit. Jack traces little circles around Tom's belly button.

Tom WILL NOT laugh... at first. But he can't hold out. The wooden fingers teasing his flesh are so smooth and delicate. Giggles burst through his locked jaws. His mouth opens to gasp for breath and waves of laughter roll out. They've got him now.

Tom howls. The worst is Jim and Sam going after his armpits. The twins have a light touch. In their hands, the wooden sticks know just how to navigate the hairy patch, tickling Tom skillfully in the join of tendons and muscles. Just where to find that soft spot. The little wooden fingers are crawling. It is driving Tom crazy.

This gets Jack steamed. He knows he is not doing as good as the twins. He leaves the belly button. He will show them who is the best.

Jack will tickle Tom's feet.

Tom freezes when he feels something tug at his sock. The giddy laughter dies on his lips. He panics and shouts: "Not my feet!! You promised!! "

Tom is right. After the last time his brothers took revenge, he made them promise to never tickle his feet again.

Jack doesn't care. Nobody is going to tell him what to do.

The twins agree. Tom has been especially pesky today.

Jack slowly drags the damp sock off Tom's desperately wiggling foot. Then the other. Jack examines the flexing soles. Kind of fascinating, really. The top of the foot looks like the top of a hand, he thinks. Same skin, sprinkle of hairs. But the sole is so different. Keeping it covered all the time leaves it moist and virgin. That's why when I start tickling it, I'll drive Tom out of his head. Completely.

Jack begins. He explores the fascinating flesh with the wooden fingers at the end of the stick. The brown fingers trace lines in the pinkness.

Tom is berserk. His lungs are heaving with laughter. He is banging his head against the bench, he is trying so hard to get away. The twins combing his armpits and Jack rubbing his feet: he's never been tickled as intensely as this. The sound of his screeching laughter is hurting his ears.

Now it happens again. Like the last time they tickled his feet. The electric shocks of the foot-tickling spread up Tom's body. The pouch of his shorts stretches to fit his hardening cock.

Surprised? Tied up naked, three husky athletes breathe hot breath on you, their hands toy with your body? What would happen to you?

Now Jack, Sam, and Jim do the laughing. They know it mortifies Tom to be hard like this in front of them. This really is their best revenge yet.

Jack wants to go further. He drops the stick. He grabs Tom's feet in his hot hands. He pushes his fingers between Tom's toes and wiggles them.

It annoys the twins that Jack has Tom in his control. They give up on Tom's armpits. The action has obviously moved south. Jim and Sam get the same idea. They run the "Tom Ticklers" over their brother's bulging jockeys. The wooden fingers shaking hands over the throbbing mound.

Tom is shocked into a second's silence. Then rippling sensations of erotic tickling flow. The devilish toys are reaching secret places he's never been tickled before! His erection pumps up full size. His cockhead pushes from under the elastic of his shorts to lay drooling on his belly.

Jack is going a little nuts, too. He can't take his eyes off his the sight of his cute little brother's naked struggling. He feels a funny tickling inside his own belly. Like he's hungry for something. His eyes see the frantically wiggling toes in front of his face. They look kinda like snack treats. He leans over and nibbles.

Tom feels a hot wet tongue devour his ticklish toes. He can't believe it is happening. He can't see through the tears of laughter blinding his eyes. He is sure he has lost his mind. And that's not all he loses.

The tickling of his thumping hardon and the hot sucking of his toes sends him over the edge. His belly contracts. His cock detonates its load of cum into a blast that splatters far and wide. Tom's shriek bounces off the walls. Pearls of his young cum is flung onto the faces of his avenging brothers. They recoil from the spray.

Later, when it was all over, that was his only consolation.

"At least I splashed the fuckers!"