Ticklee 000 has escaped and is missing in action.
Contestants, your task: retrieve Ticklee 000 from the other side of the hill.
Whoever successfully captures Ticklee 000 receives one hundred thousand points.
They will also face the next game.
Ticklee’s 005, 006 and 007, you each only have zero points.
This means you get a two minute head start.
On your marks, get set …
Go.
“I don’t get it,” Logan huffed, “Is this the game?”
Sebastian walked bare feet over dry twigs, successfully containing winces of breath with almost every step, his muscular arms bound behind him with leather bondage and buckled belting …
“Giving up already? …” He grunted, “… Fucking typical …”
Joshua peered through The Forest and narrowed his eyes.
“You gotta stop swearing, man,” he commented, the rising sun beaming through the woodland, shining across nothing but empty wilderness, “Just do as they say, and they’ll stop strapping you up …”
Logan, made to wear dungarees, a t-shirt and white plimsolls just like Joshua and all the other contestants beside an all too rebellious Sebastian, folded his arms and arrived behind the singer.
“He’s not here,” Logan concluded, “He’s long gone …” he pulled at the shoulder straps of his dungarees, “And we look like we work at f—” he paused, changing his choice of words after Joshua’s request for Sebastian to stop swearing, “—Friggin’ Starbucks, for g— for pete’s sake …”
Sebastian could only pace, his torso spinning towards the other two contestants, his arms firmly secured at his spine.
“It’s been over twelve hours,” Sebastian had no shame in standing nude, his limp, large cock and balls dangling between his thighs as he addressed the two given team mates before him, “He was only telling me yesterday that he went on the run for an entire year. The kid is a pro …”
Joshua had no idea where the others had started their search - all he knew was that he needed points and above all else, after watching game after game after game take place without him, he wanted to have some fun …
“Let’s split up,” Joshua decided.
As if magnetised by the need to not be by each other’s side, Logan and Sebastian shot each other a furious look at exactly the same time, where they even flattened their eyebrows at the same time, spoke at the same time, turned to face Joshua at the same time …
“I’m not going with him,” Logan scoffed.
“I’d rather let a cat piss on my face,” Sebastian growled.
Logan’s mouth fell open in shock, where it then quickly twisted into grimace, “Ew?”
Joshua shrugged.
“You two figure out your beef,” he nodded into the distance, “I’m gonna find go win this …” he then turned his back to the boys and pointed in his own direction, “You’re both just dead weight, so …” he began to jog into the woods, “… Good luck!—”, his footsteps began to fade into the forest as he picked up speed and wandered off alone.
Logan and Sebastian stood a few metres apart with only the squawking crows circling above as company.
Logan shoved his hands into his dungaree pockets whilst Sebastian had no other choice but to kick the dirt …
“You’re gonna have to lead the way …” Sebastian sighed, keeping his eyes to the clouds, his back facing Logan.
Logan grinned and leant against a tree trunk.
“You wouldn’t be asking me for help if they hadn’t of put you in …” his blue eyes trailed over the tightness of the bondage secured around Sebastian’s torso, “… Whatever that is.”
Sebastian tongued the inside of his cheek and stretched back his shoulders, the leather of his harness squeaking as he did so.
“Play nice,” he sniffed.
Logan rolled his eyes and decided to head east.
“Follow me … ” as he passed Sebastian’s shoulder, he could not help but to playfully nudge him aside, “… Bitch.”
Sebastian acknowledged the twinge of enjoyment he received from the kind of playful banter he and Logan used to exchange.
However, he had to bury it deep once he reminded himself of what he had been told to do …
“The only bitch here is you,” he mumbled quietly to himself, as he followed Logan deeper into the woods …
Only a few years ago, tickling was something Joshua rarely thought about, until he lost a bet at a Christmas market.
After that, everything changed.
Random hook ups with Peter, the need to cure his own mental health issues with the distraction of hysteria and the eventual giving of a ticket to Sweden had led him to this very moment; his dungaree-clad self sprinting through a forest with ‘Ticklee 005’ stitched to the breast of his dungarees, until he tripped over the loose lace of his left plimsoll, sending him hurtling towards the ground where he landed flat on his front.
“—Oof!—”
Joshua huffed and squeezed his eyes shut, placing both palms over the scrunch of surrounding leaves where he peeled his chest away from the floor and began to lift himself to a crouch.
Before he succeeded in scrambling up from his tumble, he opened his eyes and remained in a ‘press up’ position, the tip of his nose faintly nudging against thin, black wire.
The wire stretched in a long line from one tree stump to another …
If Joshua had fallen onto the wire, or had not tripped at all and had continued to run through it, he would likely of been swooped up in some kind of trap, eliminating him from the current ‘Find Tom’ task.
Instead he remained still, hardly breathing, barely blinking, his head moving away from the wire successfully where he rose to a cautious stand.
The words that arrived at the front of his mind were ‘that was close’, but, after a brief moment of consideration, Joshua reminded himself of how much he wanted to be captured after spending so much time hanging around The Living Quarters whilst Tom, Logan, Timothée, Kit and Ross all had their chance at scoring points since The Games began.
So far, he had yet to be chosen, yet to be tested, yet to become a winner or a loser …
Part of him wanted to turn around, to kick the wire, to submit himself.
Part of him wanted to be flung into the air, spun through netting, his purpose during this day, within this very moment transformed because he had allowed it.
The biggest part of him, his curious mind, wanted that ‘something more’, that niggle at the side of his head that told him to carry on, to see what would happen next …
As Joshua turned away from the wire and continued to jog through the forest, faint whispers and mumbled chants blew through the treetops along with a breeze filled with dry leaves and dust.
“… I’m kinda enjoying the laughter …”
“... I haven’t laughed like this in, well, I can’t remember when …”
His own frantic giggles, manic yet muted in volume, echoed across the woodland with such an eerie presence that Joshua had to stop and look over his left shoulder and then his right.
“Hello?” He shot a flustered glance forwards as another whispered voice, this one not his own, purred past his ears like taunting breath …
“… So what, you’re saying I’ve paid for you to have some very expensive therapy? …”
He looked up for sound speakers wired into trees, he tried to locate technical treasures made to tease those like him who stood alone surrounded by nothing but open forest …
“… You could say that …”
He smirked - he wanted to feel intimidated by the recordings of the past, but if anything he felt urged to journey in deeper …
He picked up the pace and increased the speed of his jog, running now with a fierce grin down hills where he jumped over trickling streams as the whispers continued to follow him, just like he hoped they would.
“… Alright, alright, I can’t take anymore! …”
In the distance, something caught his eye.
“… How long is left? How long is left! …”
A Spider-Man action figure dangled from a tree branch by string that had been looped to the plastic toy’s ankle.
Joshua arrived beneath it and raised his right hand.
He reached up, his fingertips brushing against the tip of the action figures head …
“… One minute …”
He could take hold of the toy right now and yank on it like a light switch - after all, that’s what the toy felt like it asked of him …
Or, he could find Logan and Sebastian, he could label the win as a team success - that was the fair way to do things, that’s what God would want …
The whispers represented so much, they worked as reminders built for he and he only …
“ … You’ve got one minute left …”
Joshua regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, “Screw the lord …”
He bit his lower lip and then he grabbed the Spider-Man action figure with both hands, where he gave it a determined tug.
“Put your left foot in the hole,” Sebastian ordered, “Not that hole, the other hole!” He barked.
Logan’s left foot slipped against the tree he attempted to climb, the hole Sebastian referred to either non existent or entirely out of reach.
“Stop shouting at me!” Logan grunted as he lifted himself onto a thick, sturdy branch that was at least fifteen metres above Sebastian, who remained on the ground, his torso still restrained by bondage, “I don’t like being shouted at …”
Sebastian craned his neck upward as he continued to watch Logan safely position himself at the top of the tree, “—Is there anything you like?—” he muttered to himself.
As a family of birds scattered into flight once Logan was able to stand, he made sure Sebastian’s comment did not go unaddressed, “—I heard that!—” he called down below.
Sebastian stepped back as Logan shakily held onto the centre of the tree, his stance on the branch wobbly yet stable, “Anything?” He asked.
From this height, Logan had a decent view of the neighbouring tree tops, the expanse of the forest, as well as the hills, streams and lakes that made up the thousands of acres surrounding The Mansion, which resided less than a mile away.
“Just a bunch of helicopters and masked freaks doing the same thing as us …” Logan sighed, “… Looking for someone who has the upper hand …”
Sebastian walked in an impatient circle, the leather of his bondage creaking with every step, “Can’t they just replace him? Surely they’ve factored in that at least one of us would’ve gotten away …”
“—I get the impression he’s irreplaceable … Oh shit!—”, Logan ducked and lowered his voice, “—They might’ve found something …” he narrowed his eyes and watched Justin and Kit, both dressed in a tee, dungarees and white plimsolls, as they sprinted between trees and towards a discovery in the distance …
Sebastian, unable to see Logan’s view, could only stand on tiptoes and clench his teeth, “They? Fuck, Logan, tell me!”
Logan’s eyes widened when he noticed Justin and Kit’s direction angle towards he and Sebastian.
Logan glanced below him, “—Hide!—” He hissed urgently, “—Hide, they’re coming your way!—”
Sebastian twirled on the spot, his nipples erect, his pert behind jiggling with every startled stagger, “What! Where! Fuck!—”
Logan planted his back against the tree trunk, his feet firmly over the branch, his height a form of invisibility in itself.
Sebastian hid behind the tree Logan had climbed, where he could only hear Kit and Justin eventually pass by in a steadfast pace, their footsteps crunching over leaves and twigs …
Once Justin and Kit were out of sight, onward towards whatever clue, trick or potential entrapment they were about to face, Sebastian stepped away from the tree and looked back up at Logan, who had started his climb to the ground.
“You really didn’t want them to notice you …” Sebastian gave Logan room to jump the final two feet, “… And by ‘them’, I mean Justin … ”
Logan dusted himself off and tried to play it cool, “… Oh, he’s the meaning of dick head,” he turned his back on Sebastian and continued his walk east, “He can’t be trusted …”
Sebastian shrugged off his ‘bondage’ as if it were a leather jacket, where it fell casually around his feet.
Logan paused entirely at the sound of Sebastian’s freedom, but before he could turn around to address how easily Sebastian had escaped his restraints, Sebastian snatched hold of Logan’s wrists and pinned them behind his back.
“He’s not the only one,” Sebastian sneered.
As soon as Joshua tugged the Spider-Man action figure, the ground beneath him disappeared.
“—Gah!—”
His body fell through the earth in a sudden ten foot drop, where he landed on a grassy tuft with a heavy bounce, his body rolling several times on its side until he landed on dry ground.
“—Ouch—”, he arched his back and winced, his need to suddenly stand and observe his predicament now more than necessary.
Once on his feet, he glanced at his surroundings; a murky, hidden cave that was made up of a smaller forest within a forest …
On top of a half cut tree trunk and highlighted by a bright beam of sunshine created by the newly made hole high above Joshua’s head was a tiny pink feather shaped biscuit with the words ‘eat me’ on it.
Joshua snorted and turned away from the biscuit.
“No way, man!”
He then looked up into the hole and began to figure a way out.
Several vines and tree roots dangled from the caves ceiling - his hands snatched hold of them, but all it took was a slight yank for the vines to tear away in a tumble of dust and dirt …
Joshua made his way to the mound of grass he had fallen on, climbing to its top where he managed to jump high enough so that the tips of his fingers peeped outside of the hole.
Just as he felt sure enough that he would be able to climb out, the sudden acknowledgement that someone else was inside the cave loomed from behind …
Joshua turned around slowly, his nervous glare landing on a hooded figure who stepped out of the darkness.
The stranger wore a wooden mask with glowing green eyes, it’s features menacing and riddled with twigs, leaves and foliage.
It looked like he had been created by The Forest itself …
Joshua’s lips parted, his adam’s apple bobbed, he readied himself to say something absurdly polite like, ‘hey, how are you?’
But before he could embarrass himself, the stranger spoke first.
I have been waiting for you.
His height seemed the same.
His build seemed the same.
Although his voice was deep, grainy, unrecognisable …
“Peter?” Joshua stepped down from the mound of grass, “Is that you?”
A few crows squawked above as a tranquil silence filled the cave.
I have no name.
Joshua raised both eyebrows.
“Ooooo-kay, but I uh, I heard the recordings of my voice, your voice, from the times we …” he looked around for feathers, electric toothbrushes, wrist cuffs and other restraints, yet there were no tools or techniques, “… So, what do we do now?—”, the cave was so dark, so riddled with underground roots, rocks and rugged shrubbery that Joshua had no choice but to enquire, “—Uh, does anyone know that you’re down here?”
No one knows that you are down here.
Joshua bit his lower lip and contained an excited grin.
“Alright, this is pretty cool …” he whispered.
The biscuit remained on the surface of the tree stump, its small shape and edible size staring back at Joshua.
You have, so far, been successful.
You have found Tom.
Joshua glanced up at the hole he had fallen through.
“I uh, I found an action figure …” Joshua peered into the darkness, “… Wait, is Tom here?—”
—The toy was a key to this moment.
Now, you will face your real challenge.
Eat the biscuit and step into the unknown.
Joshua clenched his teeth and shook his head.
“Peter, I’m not eating the biscuit.”
The biscuit is laced with Psilocybin, a hallucinogenic.
It will not harm you, I can assure.
Joshua smirked.
“So you’re drugging us now? Not cool …”
The stranger reached forwards and picked up the biscuit with his gloved index finger and thumb.
The biscuit will begin your ultimate trial.
He held it towards Joshua’s chest.
It will transform everything.
Reality …
The thrill you seek …
The reason you fell into my lair …
It will all become clear if you just take a bite …
Joshua gulped and eyed the biscuit.
“How many points do I get?” He asked, “If I win … Whatever this is.”
The voice behind the wood of the mask sounded sincere.
You’ll know once you’ve eaten the biscuit.
All I can tell you is that it’ll be a large jump from the zero you currently have …
Joshua chewed on the inside of his cheek.
Gaining any form of points would send him up The Leaderboard, which is something he needed now more than ever.
His heart pounded in his chest, his neck, within the depths of his ears …
He wanted to experience this so badly, but his times with ropes and feathers had always been under the infliction of someone he trusted, a man he had grown to fall for …
… A man that had now decided to put the cult before him and everything they had done together.
Joshua stood before the mysterious, the untrusting, the absurd; gone were Los Angeles apartments, the safety of mattresses and the informality of leather cuffing.
It had all been replaced by something far more intimidating - a sinister opportunity dressed in a black cloak and a wooden mask that offered the simplicity of a biscuit …
Joshua took the biscuit from the stranger and stuffed it in his mouth.
He munched on the deliciousness of its taste, his eyes narrowing in surprise as vibrant flavours such as strawberry and vanilla caused his nostrils to flare.
Suddenly, the hole above Joshua began to close.
The beam of light became a narrow line, and then it disappeared entirely.
I kissed my fear on its crooked mouth …
The person wearing the wooden mask stepped back into the darkness of the cave, his glowing green eyes still shimmering in the shadows as he delivered Joshua his final words, for now, in the form of a fading chant …
And whispered ‘farewell old friend, I’m off to meet The Odds …’
Joshua swallowed down the biscuit and smeared his mouth clear of crumbs with the back of his hand as his head twisted from left to right and then up and down …
“Peter, come on …” Joshua could not hide the tremble in his voice, “… Take off the mask, man …”
… I hear they may favour me without you.
“They want you naked,” Sebastian ordered.
The swift spin of helicopter blades could be heard in the distance, — thwathwathwathwathwa —, as Sebastian pressed his front against Logan’s back and whispered into his left ear.
“… It’s just tickling, kid.”
Logan felt the quickness of sudden breeze greet his face as leaves and twigs twirled around he and Sebastian.
“It’s never been just tickling, man. You know that,” Logan quipped, the helicopter now arriving directly above them, “How much are you scoring for this?”
Sebastian kept his mouth beside Logan’s ear.
“A pretty sum,” Sebastian growled, “The sooner I win, the sooner I get us home.”
From inside of the helicopter, a long rope dropped down where it then dangled just above Logan’s head.
Bolted to the end of the rope were two leather cuffs …
“If they want me in my birthday suit,” Logan watched the helicopter hover in waiting, “You’re gonna have to let go of my hands.”
Sebastian nodded slowly and carefully removed his grip from Logan’s wrists.
Logan rolled his shoulders and stepped forwards.
He turned around and scowled at Sebastian, his left hand unbuckling the left strap to his dungarees.
“Where are they taking me?” He asked calmly.
Sebastian shrugged as Logan removed his dungarees and then his t-shirt.
“Kit, Justin, Ross … They got little piggies under their pillow …” Sebastian folded his arms across his chest, “… I got a little note.”
Logan stepped out of his underwear and then perched down over leaves blowing away thanks to the helicopter above.
“Oh?” He began to untie his laces.
Sebastian nodded.
“It read, ‘when your bonds are not tied during the fifth game, ready L.L. Succeed in doing so and you will receive one hundred and fifty thousand points’ …” he shot a testing look up to the helicopter, “… When they strapped me up, they left a few buckles loose. And we both know it’s the fifth game …” he then looked back down at Logan’s feet, gesturing for de-clothe faster, “… You do the math, Lerman.”
Logan removed his plimsolls and socks, now standing barefoot and entirely naked with his hands covering his modesty.
“You’re a bastard, Seb …” he he threw his socks at Sebastian, “… Remember when you’d do anything to help me out? …”
Sebastian allowed one of Logan’s socks to land on his shoulder.
He then moved towards Logan and curled his fingers around each of Logan’s wrists.
“And look where that got us …” he resentfully forced Logan’s hands above his head, attaching his wrists to the cuffs, “… Arms up, handsome. You’re going for a ride …”
Logan pressed his lips together as he was suddenly forced onto his tiptoes.
“Okay, fuck—” Logan catapulted frantic looks from side to side as his squirming feet lifted away from the ground, the helicopter now flying away and taking Logan with him, “Fuck! Seb! Get me the fuck down! Please, fuck!—” he kicked his legs, his feet now spinning through the air as his body hurtled five metres, ten metres, fifteen metres into the tree tops, “—Who the fuck made you do this!—” he screamed.
Sebastian placed his hands on his hips as he watched Logan get carried away, the sound of the helicopters blades fading into the atmosphere of the morning.
“They signed the letter with just a ‘Ha, ha, ha’ …” Sebastian revealed to himself.
Joshua fingered some of the biscuit out from the back of his teeth and sighed heavily after another minute or so of unwelcome quiet.
“This is cool n’ all but uh, I’m gonna zip …” he discarded whoever was behind the wooden mask within the shadows in the form of an impatient flap of both hands and then began to make his way to where he thought the opening of the cave might be, after it had suddenly closed up, “ … Nice to meet you, I guess—”
Whilst making sure not to trip over rocks, stray foliage or to slip on any puddles, Joshua stepped slowly and carefully through the cave, until he felt something playfully tap his right shoulder twice.
He turned around, only to hear the sound of rustling and movement through dry leaves, the area behind him seemingly empty.
He shrugged and continued his journey onto the tall tuft of grass …
As he reached the top of it, he peered up at a ceiling made up of dirt - only seconds into his inspection, he then felt something wrap around his right ankle, tugging at his leg with such vigorous strength that he fell flat onto his front.
“—Hey!—”, he landed palms down, his head twisting beneath his right underarm where he tried to assess what had tripped him.
Coiling around his ankle and further up his calf was a thick, root-like vine that had the motion and gesture of a life-like snake …
Its grip was tight, assertive, somewhat aggressive - it did not give Joshua the opportunity to protest or shout, instead, it swiftly pulled him down the tuft of grass, across the floor and towards the wall of the cave, which the large wooden X lay against.
“—Hey! Get offa me!—”
Joshua rolled and kicked, he reached out his arms and hands, he clawed at the grass, his fingers snatching at blades that tore away between his fingers, the pull over the ground so speedy that he could hardly gather his own thoughts …
Once he had been dragged to the X, the vine removed itself from his ankle and then slithered back into the shadows, as if careful not to insult Joshua any further.
Joshua scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off, his eyebrows raised so high they practically met with the start of his thick, curly hairline.
“It’s not real …” he mumbled under his breath, “… It’s not real, it’s the darn biscuit …”
With his hand still resting on top of his scalp, a vine from above saw the perfect opportunity to snatch hold of his wrist …
“Wait!—”, another vine whipped downward and looped around Joshua’s left wrist, forcing both of his hands and arms high above his head, with such relentless force that Joshua was lifted off his feet, his legs kicking and twirling through the air, “—Let go of me!—”
Joshua was slammed against the wooden X as additional vines, in their dozens, began to grow from the earth that made up the caves wall; they slithered around the lengths of wood, curling and tightening around Joshua’s arms, pinning them to the device as Joshua did something he did not expect to do so soon …
… He screamed.
Whilst Joshua’s scream from underground remained unheard by anyone standing in The Forest, the rope dangling from the helicopter lifted Logan closer towards the open doors of its sleek structure as it continued to fly over and away from the forest below.
Leather gloved hands took hold of his arms and pulled him inside the aircraft, where they spun him around and dropped him into the passenger seat, a thick slab of duct tape landing over his mouth as a black velvet hood was thrown over his head.
“—Mmmph!—”
Now blind and unable to speak, totally naked with his hands being cuffed at his front, Logan could only sit and wait as the presence of two larger, meatier bodies arrived either side of him, guarding their ‘delivery’ whilst providing an intimidating presence that only urged Logan to remain silent.
During the ten minute journey to an unknown location, dozens of thoughts raced through Logan’s mind …
Stay still.
Where the fuck am I going?
Fuck, it’s cold.
My nipples hurt.
If you stay still, you play by the rules and if you play by the rules they’ll go easy on you …
Is this part of the game?
This doesn’t feel like part of the game.
Where am I?
The helicopter hovered to a gradual land and once the blades had slowed down in their speedy whizz, those leather gloves returned to Logan’s arms, this time with a harder grasp.
They tore him away from the passenger seat and held a bicep each, carrying him out and away from the aircraft where Logan’s bare toes left metal and instead stumbled over concrete.
A rusty sounding back door creaked and swung open as Logan moaned and grunted behind the tape, his feet now arriving over plastic flooring, the sound of the helicopters blades now disappearing …
He staggered down steps that felt as if they were made of glossy varnished wood and then he was positioned in front of another door which opened just as fast as the last one.
This time the bottoms of his feet were greeted with carpet, however the next thing to happen was not so welcoming; the leather gloved hands threw Logan onto what Logan acknowledged immediately to be a table, where he landed with a heavy bounce.
“—Mnnn! Mmmphh! Mphhh!—”
He kicked and rolled, unable to see yet fully dedicated to making a run for it, but those leather gloves snatched and grabbed at his legs where he then felt them be forced over leather …
Click! Rattle! Lock!
Logan groaned so hard that his face gleamed with perspiration - something tight closed around each ankle, securing his legs in a long line to the bottom of the table …
He wriggled and jumped, he hissed and he reached forwards, his cuffed together wrists doing all they could to stretch out to whoever Sebastian had handed him over to - no matter how hard he flexed his fingers, he reached towards nothing but air, his toes now being looped by the tormenting thin-ness of string …
“—Mnnn! Mnnn! Mnnn! Mnnn!—” Logan stifled whines as the tape endured most of the breath pummelling against it, “—Mnn! Mnn? Mnn!—” each toe was tied back, one by one, his soles now stretching out in a fierce splay, his eyes watering from behind the hood as the leather gloves continued with their work …
Unlike before, there were now no thoughts - Logan’s mind had instead been stuffed with the overwhelming weight of anxiety, uncertainty, the dire unknown …
As someone grabbed hold of the hem of his hood, only one line of wording landed in his mind now that his toes were finally all tied back …
Something is different.
Logan blinked as the hood was swiftly removed from his head.
The first thing he noticed were that his feet had been secured tightly within a set of wooden stocks, his surroundings seemingly a random motel room …
However, standing opposite him was something he did not expect, not in his wildest dreams …
Someone the more unfortunate of his kind had experienced before, however, for Logan, this would be his first time:
A clown.
Submit to The Forest …
Once Joshua’s arms had been successfully pinned to the top extensions of the wooden X by tight, gripping vines, leaves and always-growing roots, additional foliage curled around the sturdy shape of the X and lifted it from the wall, tilting it at a ninety degree angle where it then hung horizontally within the cave.
“—This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening!—” Joshua whailed as the deep, echoing voice surrounding him continued to purr into his ears …
Allow me to take you …
His moment of salivating panic was put on pause as soon as he felt the straps to his dungarees loosen - a snaking vine each unclipped the buttons and then curled around the denim that made up the garment he had worn since leaving The House to take part in the fifth game …
Allow me to strip you …
“—Wait, no don’t, oh come on!—”, Joshua, utterly baffled and unable to believe his eyes, could do nothing but pull with all his mite on the vines securing his wrists to the X’s upper extensions, his legs frantically and freely swiping through the air in the form of rampant kicks as his dungarees were pulled away from his body, leaving him startled and squirming in just his underwear, plimsolls and t-shirt …
You must not be protected by the modern fashions of man …
“—Stop! Lemme out, get me down!—”, the vines discarded of the dungarees by dropping them to the floor, only to return to Joshua’s upper body where they then caught hold of his t-shirt and tore it down the middle, — rrrrrrrrip! — exposing Joshua’s toned torso, his narrow waist and his slim hips, “—Stop, please, god, wake up, wake up!—” Joshua’s willingness to no longer be part of this cookie drug fuelled nightmare reached alarming levels when the t-shirt was reduced to torn tatters of cotton, the vines now forcefully shredding it from him as if they were desperate to expose Joshua entirely …
Let The Forest infiltrate, exploit, invade …
Joshua’s fierce kicks were captured by more vines as the thirsty foliage appeared from beneath the wooden X and curled around the tops of his thighs, his knees and his ankles, pinning his legs apart in a wide stretch - his head twisted and twirled, his big brown eyes taking in the sight of endless roots and their constant grow and production, their lengthy extensions and determined grabs now arriving at his feet, causing his head to leap forwards where he flung a concerned look towards the bottom of the wooden X, “—No, keep the shoes on! Keep the shoes on!—” he squealed.
Almost too delicately, around five vines each took hold of Joshua’s plimsolls and removed them from his size ten and halves; carefully, as if with respect, his plimsolls were removed, revealing Joshua’s bare feet, feet that now flexed and stretched in concern as additional vines, far thinner in their appearance, began to slide up the edges of the wooden X and scitter towards his heels …
The Forest must have all of you, every single inch, from your head to your toes …
“—No, no! Stop, stop it!—”, Joshua felt sharp prickles dance up the bottoms of his feet, he felt the thinness of grass-like vines weed between his toes, “—Please, mnn! Ahha! Ahaa, oh, oh lord!—”, his feet were able to thrash inward, then outward, he could clench his toes until, rather suddenly, he could not clench them at all - the vines splayed them, they curled around each tip of each toe sprouting from each foot, each foot now unable to move an inch, the vines always travelling, slithering between each toe as each ankle remained bound over the lower legs of the wooden X, leaving Joshua unable to control the volume of frustrated shouts that erupted from his mouth.
“—NO, NO STOP! WAKE ME UP! WAKE ME UP!—”, Joshua sounded so angry, so ferocious, he was so taken, so violated by nature, “—THIS IS TOO MUCH, BREAK, BREAK!—”, vines had now wrapped themselves around his elbows, his biceps, his shoulders and his waist, he lay forced against the wooden X with only one vine now hovering above his bulge where it stroked its thin, green tip around the shape of his privacy, “—STOP, STOP, DON’T YOU DARE, DON’T YOU DARE!—”
Joshua could roll, thrash and leap his hips as much as he liked, however the inevitable was ready to strike; unlike the comfort of steel handcuffs or the generosity of Peter never knotting the restraints too tightly, Joshua now faced the perversion of animalistic nature as it curled within the gaps of his underwear that rested at the tops of his thighs and beneath his balls …
The Forest belongs to you now.
You belong to The Forest …
Joshua pressed his lips together and contained his screech, he widened his eyes so hard that they almost popped out of his head, the thinness of the vines exploiting the soft, squishy flesh of his buttocks and the smoothness that made up the outside of his hole, their ravaging force and speed gathering enough strength and growing with enough size to suddenly cause Joshua’s underwear to rip, where the vines then flicked the remaining protection aside, their coil and grip continuing to writhe and wrap around Joshua’s most intimate areas, “—NO, UHH, NOO! WHAHA, PLE, PLEA!—”
Joshua wanted to scream, he wanted to cry for help, but only gasps, grunts and confused gawps left lips soaked with dribble, his eyes watered with physical strain and the veins at either side of his head twitched as he was reduced to a naked starfish shape, tauntly bound by hundreds of vines to the wooden X, his limp cock now being taken by foliage where dozens of green wire-like personalities coiled around the base of his manhood and balls, leaving Joshua no choice but to witness it be placed over his navel as if it were an artefact …
As more vines infiltrated Joshua’s mouth and invaded the area above his tongue, clamping within the insides of his cheeks, securing firmly around the rigid shape of his jaw, gagging him completely, the stranger wearing the wooden mask floated out of the shadows and stepped towards the wooden X …
My name is Klådjur …
… And this is your trial.
Logan’s immediate horror at the sight before him pounded behind the tape stuck across his mouth.
“—Mmuu uhhaghhh uuuuhhh? Mmmuu aaghhh uuuuooh!—”
The Clown held a pink hairbrush in his right hand and a bottle of massage lotion in his left.
He tilted his head, his manic, masked stare motionless, his deranged grin always wide, always twisted by madness …
“Who am I?” He sounded barbarically entertained, his tone playfully high pitched and torn as he sung out his words …
🎵 I can be whoever you want me to be, but to me, you are my little pet … 🎵
Logan foamed at the mouth, the dribble behind the tape seeping out and away from his gag, past his chin, where it drooped over the smoothness of his chest as The Clown approached his trapped, bare feet, locked tightly within the wooden stocks, all ten of his toes tauntly pinned back by string, the ticklishness of his soles totally exposed and open …
… He had experienced the wrath of fetishical men before, but this? This thing … This clown … This monster?
“Don’t fear, my little pet! I can be your old friends if it makes you feel better? …” The Clown uncapped the bottle of massage lotion and dribbled the contents over Logan’s feet, “… Pretty boy Chris Evans, or strapping stud Brad Pitt …”
The lotion landed over Logan’s soles in a generous ooze, it coated Logan’s squirming, stretching feet from toe to heel, it stained the tables wood, it sank into the base of the stocks, “ … Maybe I’m Michael B Jordan, maybe I’m Tom Holland, maybe I’m someone else entirely …” The Clown teased.
“—Mmnnghh! Mnnn? Mnnnuhh! Mnn? Muuhhhh!—”
Once satisfied with the lotions application, The Clown threw the bottle over his shoulder where it landed on the motel room carpet and continued to spill its shimmering contents over the floor, “… Does it really matter?” The Clown asked, his sinister expression now addressing the hairbrush and its dozen of sharp, plastic bristles, “… Does anything really matter anymore?”
Logan tried to pull his lotion soaked feet free from the restraints as he continued to howl and scream behind the gag, his toes barely nudging within their toe-ties, the string only squeaking as the stocks shook and the bed wobbled.
“—Mnnnn! Mmnnn! Mnnn! Mnn? Mphhhnnnhhuhhh! Mnnn! Mnnn? Mmphh!—”
“—All I know is that I want this special moment to be private …” The Clown revealed, as he knelt down at the bottom of the bed and journeyed the hairbrush towards the bottoms of Logan’s feet, “… Time for just me and your beautiful, flawless, creamy feet, oh you, my favourite contestant, one of the most ticklish out of all eight, my blue eyed obsession …”
As soon as the plastic bristles arrived over Logan’s soles, Logan’s entire body leaped, his cheeks boiled red, his eyebrows flattened and his nostrils flared, “ … Away from special rooms, masked henchmen and all the other bits and bobs standing in my way …” The Clown giggled as he began to scrub, faintly, lightly, the bristles barely grazing against the bottoms of Logan’s feet …
“… This is our time, my little pet …”
Your task is simple.
Joshua’s mouth and lips were entirely concealed by the vines that tightened around his head, “—Mnnph! Mmpphh! Mnn!—”, the foliage clasped firmly around his cock pulsated with a shining ooze, lubricating his manhood much to his distress as tiny weeds grew between his spread apart thighs, around the base of his bare buttocks, their tips grazing the flesh of his smooth, soft taint, “—Mnn! Mmnnnn! Nuuu! Grruuuh! Mmnnn!—”, his eyes rolled towards Klådjur, who stood at Joshua’s feet …
Answer my questions correctly and The Forest resits its urge to take you.
The vines continued to grow around and between Joshua’s toes, infiltrating their betweens; more vines coiled around his ankles, his always kicking legs and his squirming waist, they slithered around his arms and his wrists and his fingers, their shape and size varying, their mission the same, “—Mnnphhh! Mnn? Mnnphh! Grrruuh! Nuuu, nuuu!—”, his naked, tauntly bound stretch could no longer move, his athletic, slim body completely immobilized and dominated by nature …
Answer them incorrectly, and you will be taken, one weakness at a time.
The foliage gathered around his cock, from its base up to its tip, persisted in soaking Joshua’s manhood in a thick slime, the smaller vines working as massaging lengths that helped transform Joshua’s limp penis into a more generous size where its plump shape began to stiffen into a reluctantly aroused chunk …
There will be three questions. For each correct answer, you receive mercy.
Joshua shook his head, the vines doing their best at keeping his face aimed at Klådjur; with fists clenched, he roared behind the nature clamped over his lower jaw, droplets of sweat appearing over his forehead and his chest, his cock now standing to full attention, its tall, meaty structure held confidently by the vines so that Joshua could observe it from where he lay …
The first question is a riddle …
Joshua’s vision blurred as he felt a strange sense of joy appear in the pit of his stomach; it caused his balls to swell and the tip of his cock to shimmer, all whilst the vines continued to slowly wrap, gradually curl, teasingly rub and generously stroke his manhood whilst the other many dozens of vines persisted in curling, tightening and fixating their passionate desire around his limbs …
What starts with a T, has T in it, and ends with a T …
All at once, the vines stroked Joshua.
They slithered across his hips in a playful dance, they travelled between his thighs in a toying fondle, they grew over his sides in a ravenous caress …
He wriggled as if on fire, screaming into the foliage wedged between his teeth, tears now rolling down his cheeks as his naked form was tormented by earth; the cave filled with the sound of deafening distress, the vibrant cries for an end to whatever fresh hell this was constantly bellowing out into the darkness surrounding him as the rustling of foliage persisted to vibrate around the wooden X, giving Joshua barely a second of peace to simply consider the riddle spoken to him by Klådjur …
The more he frantically squirmed, the firmer the vines around his cock would stroke, nudging him closer towards a throbbing ache he had not planned to release; to announce that he had a potential answer, he moved and communicated the only way he felt possible - by clicking his fingers.
Click, click, click!
Klådjur held up his right hand and all of the vines stopped moving, besides the vines around Joshua’s mouth, which slithered away from his jaw, freeing his lips and therefore allowing him to speak …
Joshua coughed and spluttered, licked his tongue around his chin and panted into the warmth of the air between he and the unknown …
“… Ti, tickle torment …” Joshua wheezed, his teeth clamping down over his lower lip as his eyes crossed at the middle, the sight of his own cock netted by the ever tightening grasp of vines being the thing he had to witness, in an attempt to understand it, “… There’s a T at the start, a, a T in the middle an, and a T at the end,” he giggled in disbelief, groaning uncontrollably as the vines around his cock slithered to the tip of his manhood, one singular smaller, thinner vine now toying with his helm, “… Lord, I, I can barely think straight …” he shook his head as he was edged closer and closer to release, “… Please, don’t do that, it’s, it’s been months since I …”
Klådjur stepped closer and knelt between Joshua’s thighs, the wood of his mask only inches away from Joshua’s twitching balls.
You are wrong.
If Joshua could leap into the air, he would have; the vines kept him pinned to the X, his frantic jolt suggesting dire confusion as his entire frame wriggled non stop, mostly in panic more than bewilderment.
“—What! I’m right! How can I be wrong!—”, the vines readied themselves, additional lengths of weeds and foliage, sharp and thin, thick and keen, all snaking and creeping towards his underarms, “—No, stop, seriously, no wait, please, oh god, oh god!—”, Joshua’s cries were silenced once more as the vines returned to his jaw, his mouth, his lips, they stuffed themselves inside and wedged their growing girth between his teeth as his cock was edged again and again and again, “—Mmmnphh! Grrmmph! Grrrmphh! Grrrmpph!—
The answer is … ‘tea pot’ …
Joshua’s body became a strained distortion of angry shifting, his underarms now victim to the many vines that curled, wiggled, stroked and nudged their way through his armpit hair and into the very depths of the ticklish space between his upper ribs and biceps; his howls of gagged lunacy exploded throughout the cave, they pounded the rocky walls and caused the puddles below to ripple, his manic and non stop laughter soaking the vines inside of his mouth with sweat, dibble and a frenzied rage that seemed to never stop …
There is a T at the start of tea pot, a T at the end of tea pot, and there is tea inside of a tea pot …
At the top of his lungs, Joshua bellowed a furious, ‘I don’t care!’ behind the vines gagging hs mouth, but all that could be heard were grainy, high pitched barks and delighted snarls, his endless giggling and bulging eyes telling his captor that he was having the time of his life, whilst also experiencing a complete and acute version of anguish, an anguish that was made of one just one thing - nightmares …
The vines slithered up and down his taint, their tips toying with the silky soft flesh around his hole, they kept his arms apart and pinned to each corner of the X as they jabbed and poked into his now very, very wet underarms, underarms that had gathered so much sweat within their depths that they had begun to shine in their delicate soak …
“—Mmmnnnaaahhhhahahaaahahahahaghhhhaaaahhahahahahahmmmmmnnnaaaaggahahaaaahhahahahahahahaaa!—”
His arms pulled and yanked, he bit down on the vines within his mouth, he began to beg and plead as his armpits were tickled by a force that was inhumane, not of this world, not controlled by man or any kind of person …
“—Mmmnnnaaahhhhahahaaahahahahaghhh! Mmnnnanaaaahahaha! Maaaaannnaahahahahahahaaaaah! Mnnnn! Ahhahahahahahmmmmmnnnaaaaggahahaaaahhahahahahahahaaa!—”
It was a barbaric annihilation that did not even know what mercy was, in fact, it had never heard of mercy before, it had no interest in learning anything about mercy, all it wanted to do was continue with what it did right now, which was invade this young specimens weaknesses until they were told otherwise …
“—Mmmnnnaaahhhhahahaaahahahahaghhh! Mmnnnanaaaahahaha! Maaaaannnaahahahahahahaaaaah! Mnnnn! Ahhahahahahahmmmmmnnnaaaaggahahaaaahhahahahahahahaaa! Mmnnnaaaghaahaaaaahahahahahahaaaa! Mmnnamaaaaahhhaahaaaaaahahahhahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaagh!—”
With around thirty vines in each underarm, each tip of each vine pushing, forcing itself deeper into each hairy centre, Joshua used his eyes to implore towards Klådjur, their widened ball shape shaking out of Joshua’s skull with such urgency that Klådjur felt the need to raise his right hand once again.
The vines stopped moving, allowing Joshua’s body to sink into the X in a weighty droop, his rock hard cock still held firmly by nature, the tip of his manhood now presenting a gentle, singular drop of pre-cum …
You must answer the second question correctly, Klådjur warned …
… Otherwise, I fear The Forest will claim you completely. .
There was no iPhone fixed to a tripod, no hidden cameras or recording devices …
“—Mnnanaananaaaaannmmnnnhhhhaaaaghhh! Mmmmmnnghhhuuuughhhpphhhhaaaahahahaaaaagh!—”
The Clown wanted this for himself.
“—Mnnanaananaaaaannmmnnnhhhhaaaaghhh! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn! Mmmmmnnghhhuuuughhhpphhhhaaaahahahaaaaagh!—”
Taken in secret and behind The House of White Feathers back, Logan sat on a wooden table screeching at the top of his lungs from behind the slab of tape as The Clown scrubbed the hairbrush from left to right, now at a rather speedy rate, across the bottoms of Logan’s feet.
“—Pleeaaaaaugghhh sssguuuhhh! Pleeeeeeaaaaghhhh ssssmmuggghhhhpgggph!—”
With all ten of his toes pinned back by string that refused to snap, all Logan’s feet could do was nudge within their bondage, beneath the ticklish infliction of dozens and dozens of plastic nibs that travelled across Logan’s soles with an effortless, almost silent glide, mostly thanks to the thick layers of massage lotion saturating the bottoms of his feet.
“—Pleeaaaaaugghhh sssguuuhhh! Pleeeeeeaaaaghhhh ughhh guughha brrreeaahahahaaahahaughh ssssmmuggghhhhpgggph!—”
This was no game, there had been no provided task, no information on possible points to earn or lose; this was the randomness of a motel room, a kidnapping and an attack, there was no real end in sight, nothing to succeed in or fail with, Logan was simply here to be tickle tortured and that is exactly what happened behind the four walls that slowly closed in on Logan - non stop, constant and never ending tickle torture, in the form of a hairbrush scrub, scrub, scrubbing across heels, arches, pads and the bases of toes …
Like Logan had attempted at least one hundred times in the past few minutes, his reached forward and bent his knees, shuffling up close to the bottom of the narrow table, “—Grruuh! Grrruhhh! Grruuuh!—”, where his hands were able to just about clamp over the top of the stocks, his fingers flexing out to protect at least the top half of his toes, their lengths unable to cover anywhere else, “—Nuuuhhhghh, mmmphh, mnnnphhh!—”, sadly, this did nothing to protect Logan’s feet from the ticklish onslaught as The Clown decided to spend most of his time addressing Logan’s arches and heels, quite simply, the locations that garnered the loudest screams, that created the most endless barrage of giggles and perfected the most acutely perfect boil within Logan’s pretty blue eyes, “—Mnnanaananaaaaannmmnnnhhhhaaaaghhh! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn! Mmmmmnnghhhuuuughhhpphhhhaaaahahahaaaaagh!—”
Logan threw himself back against the table, his shoulders slamming against the wooden surface as he tried to tear his hands free from the cuffs, his growls behind the tape seething and fuelled by dire frustration, the mind blowing levels of ticklishness taking place from the ankle down stuffing his mind with an inability to cope; trying to focus on escaping the bondage around his hands was a challenge in itself, until the unexpected took place far quicker than Logan could have predicted …
… The brush stopped scrubbing.
Logan sat forwards and whined a desperate, ‘thank you, thank you!’ from behind the tape but all that could be heard were muffled moans soaked with dribble - his feet were, for now, free from torment, allowing him to observe The Clown through blurred vision as The Clown pocketed the hairbrush and walked inside the ensuite bathroom, cackling with every step …
“You’ve got some lungs on you, boy!” The Clown called from beside the sink, leaving Logan alone for a second or two, providing the perfect chance to reach forwards, to try and untie his toes, to un-flick the metal latch that locked the stocks …
Anything! Anything! Anything! That one word twirled through Logan’s mind until The Clown returned with something in his right hand, an bottled object that, for now, did just two things; it silenced Logan completely and it paused his movements entirely.
…
“What’s wrong?” The Clown tilted his head again, just like he had done at the start of this horror …
“… You never had an itch before?”
The vines scurried out and away from Joshua’s mouth.
Joshua peered over his torso with a worried, embarrassed scowl, his watering glare addressing the rigid, pulsating size of his throbbing erection and the dozens of thin, wire like vines curled around its glistening shape.
“Ca, can you ss, ssstop with the …” he gulped, hardly able to formulate a sentence, “… I th, think I’m go, gonna jizz—”
Pleasure is a gift during trialling times.
Allow it to distract you and you risk further being devoured by The Forest …
“Mnn, mnn, de, devoured?” Joshua hooked his lower row of teeth over his upper lip, the vines now stretching him out further, his X shape causing all muscles within his body to flex and taunt in far greater ways than they had ever done so before, “Mnn! Mmnn, buh, buh, but I, I can’t … Control …” he then whispered an urgent word that sounded more like he wanted the vines to continue with their stroke then to stop entirely, yet another droplet of pre cum oozing from the tip of his penis, where it rolled over the green of the vines and seeped into the skin that made up his lower stomach, “… Please …” the situation itself had confused him beyond comprehension …
Next question, Klådjur announced …
… What colour eyes does Ticklee 007 have?
Joshua’s head twirled from side to side as he watched more vines, foliage and leaf-like growth curl from the caves ceiling, where their sharp tips hovered over his naked stretch and began to graze the sweat soaked surface of his shimmering torso …
“—Nnn, nn, no, please! C, come on! No more, for real! Ah, god! I, I, I—” three vines each arrived over his nipples, caressing them gently, soothing the plump tips into thick points as Joshua gasped inward with such force that his stomach dropped, his navel unintentionally shifting away from another five vines that wanted to feast on his belly button, “—O, o, okay! Alright! Ffff, focus, Josh, focus!—”, he urged himself, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the vines stroking his solid manhood began to pick up pace …
… You have one minute … Klådjur declared …
Joshua’s nipples were now fully erect, his belly button a delicate stage for the tips of several vines to toy with, “—Ah! Aha! Ahaha, no! No, sss, ssstop! Sss, ssstop!—” they stroked around his belly button, they nudged inside it and they forced themselves into its depth, “—Grrahh! Oh, lord, get me outta this! That tickles so bad! That tickles so bad!—”, he glared down at his navel as if he were watching a horror movie, the puddle of sweat gathered in its middle working as lubrication for the vines to enhance the sensory exploitation, “—Oh, ohaha, oh, okay! Okay, Sss, Ssss, Seb is number seven, right! Right!—” Klådjur gave no confirmation, his green glare simply glowed in the darkness as he watched the vines molest Joshua’s navel and nipples whilst the rest of the foliage continued to bind him to the wooden X …
Uncertain and too dumbfounded by the sharp, sting-like, hyper ticklish sensation around his tummy, Joshua had no choice but to choose Sebastian and take a guess at his eye colour, “—W, with everything going on I, I don’t think I know the, the colour of his!—” Joshua sounded like he was running fast, his breathlessness entirely out of reach, his soaked, fleshy lay drowning beneath the absurdity of his circumstance as an orgasm began to teeter towards the base of his erection, “—Blue, blue! His eyes are blue!—”, Joshua watched the vines around his manhood stroke, stroke, stroke, his orgasm now in the thickness of his shaft as well as the back of his throat, “—His eyes, are, are bl, bl, blooh, ooh, oh, oh! Oh, oh, oh?—” he watched his arousal bulge between each vine, he grinned like a mad man, he arched his back and clenched his fists, “—I’m close, I’m, fuck, I’m close, I’m, I’m close, I’m, I’m gonna—”
… The vines stopped moving; they paused on their stroke, they lifted away from his nipples and his navel, they allowed Joshua to growl in frustration whilst he whooped in victory, his brain uncertain whether to feel disappointed that he had been edged towards a realm of nothingness, or relieved that his navel and nipples were no longer under exploration; for now, simply catching his breath and closing his eyes was enough for a break …
You are correct.
Mercy has been given.
As well as one hundred thousand points, to you …
Joshua’s entire body now glistened from head to toe, the vines always holding him in place as his arousal continued to twitch.
Now, Klådjur informed,
For your final question …
… This time, be a good boy, like the good Christian you are …
… And do not swear.
The Clown placed the bottle of itching powder over the surface of the a nearby desk and returned to a screaming Logan.
Logan’s feet forced themselves together, his big toes desperate to touch each other, his soles now blanketed in a fine white dust that made him feel like he had absolutely no other meaning in life but to scratch at his itchy feet with his fingernails …
But of course, his hands could not reach that far down the table and all ten of his toes were pinned back by string; his feet could only twist less than a centimetre from side to side, the itching now borderline savage, a vicious prickle dancing all over his heels, his arches, the pads of his feet, over the restrained lengths of each toe, a sensation that created only pure, intolerable suffering that made him shriek from behind the slab of tape covering his mouth.
“—MMMMMNNNNHAAAAAAMMNNNNPH! Mnn! Mnn! MMMMMNNNNHAAAAAAMMNNNNPH! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn! MMMMMNNNNHAAAAAAMMNNNNPH!—”
The Clown lifted up both of his gloved hands, wiggling his fingers as if playfully surrendering, “You’re being a little overdramatic, aren’t you, my little pet?” He gestured to his hands and then looked back at Logan, “See? I’m barely even touching you!”
Logan heaved and wheezed behind his gag as he burned a fiery glare at The Clown, the toe ties squeak, squeak, squeaking as he tried to move his feet towards each other once again, in an attempt to address the insane level of itchiness occupying his soles.
The Clown made his way towards Logan, who had now started to leap, bounce, buck and practically hurtle himself away, as soon as he saw his kidnapper take a few steps closer.
“I thought you were fantastic in Logan’s Desperation …” The Clown revealed excitedly, “… The narrative they pulled together, to get you into all that trouble! Whoever thinks this kinda stuff up must have some kinda twisted mind!—”, he dodged Logan’s attempts to punch at him, to grab at his mask, to scratch at his chest, “—And now look at you! After all that, and you’re stuck here with me, all itchy and tied up, for as long as I want! Forget The Games! It’s our chance to play …—”
The Clown leaped onto the table, landing behind Logan, where he grabbed hold of Logan’s cuffed together wrists and yanked them over his head, exposing Logan’s stomach, chest and furry armpits.
“—MNNN! MNNNPHHH! MPHHHH!—”
Logan shot a perplexed yet furious look up at The Clown as The Clown shuffled further up the table, perching himself in a comfortable kneel over Logan’s hands, successfully pinning Logan’s arms in a long line as the itching powder continued to torment Logan’s feet.
“Those poor, toe tied, itchy feet …” The Clown closed his knees inward, trapping Logan’s elbows together, his armpits now wedged between either side of his face, “… Tell me, little pet, are your armpits itchy too?”
“—MNN! MNNNNPHHH! MNNM, NUUUMPPHHH!—”, Logan shook his head as if being electrocuted, the blues of his eyes frantic and wild, his cheeks burning red as The Clown removed his gloves, sucked on his fingertips and then began to ever so carefully ‘pet’ Logan’s armpits by curling his fingernails through Logan’s generous tufts of armpit hair, “—SSSSTTTUUUUHHH, PLLLEEEEEEAAAAH, MMMNNNPHHHH!—”
“Scream all you want, my little pet,” The Clown advised, his fingernails now increasing the weight and depth of their scratch, “I plan on keeping you here all day, all week, all month …” they invaded Logan’s armpits forcefully, the speed of their wiggle picking up with every second, “… Forget winning, forget losing, forget your friends, you belong to me now …”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and screamed out his high pitched, uncontrollable laughter into the stickiness of the tape slabbed across his mouth, his back arching up high, his bare buttocks then slamming down over the table, which shook and wobbled beneath his rampant squirm as his underarms were petted by The Clown, who had made it all too clear that this was nothing to do with the activities Logan expected when he stepped out into The Forest only an hour or so ago …
His giggles and shouts were thunderous and infuriated, the constant stroke within each underarm creating a insane level of babbled distress to pound against the tape as the bottoms of his feet endured the relentless itch, itch, itch that violated almost every single inch of his soles, all whilst The Clown cackled above him.
“Cootchie coo, my little pet!” The Clown watched Logan’s flaccid cock twirl, flap and wobble around as he flung his hips from side to side, “You wanna know my goal? To make you pass out!—” The Clown squealed.
Before such a challenge could be addressed, the motel door burst open in an explosion of splinters and dust, alarming The Clown so much so that he jumped in fright and fell backwards, unintentionally releasing Logan’s hands and arms, therefore allowing Logan to leap up at what ultimately was the sight of his saviour …
… A young man called Aaron.
The wooden X beneath Joshua’s body broke.
Creeeeaaak! Snap!
The vines had stretched him apart so wide that the base of the structure he lay over could no longer maintain its shape …
“—Oh, oh, man!—” Joshua dropped a few inches, “—Whoa!—”, however the vines that were wrapped around his ankles, legs, thighs, waist, balls, cock, arms and wrists kept him in the air, suspending him in his splay with the wood of the X now falling away from his body where it landed on the cave floor in pieces …
Answer this correctly …
Joshua kicked and pulled, his writhing given more room now nothing solid rested beneath him, the vines expertly maintaining his capture thanks to the firm grip they had on every limb and every extension of his body …
… And you are free to go.
Answer incorrectly … Then, we feast.
Joshua urged himself to explode, “—C, come on!—”, he so madly wanted that bubbling joy within his shaft to shoot outward, whilst also so keenly urging it to stay where it was so as not to ridicule himself, “—I can’t do this, I, I mean, I, I can do this!—”, all whilst the vines persisted in their gradual curl around his wrists and ankles, his toes always splaying and scrunching up as more fine weeds violated their betweens, “—Mnn, ohh, oh, ss, ssstop!—” …
He found himself peering over his chest constantly, as if trying to confirm that this dream, this nightmare, it was real, it was happening, his erection still caught by dozens of oozing, rubbing coils that stroked and toyed with his arousal and his meaty balls in such a rhythmic glide that he was sure he would soon cum, quite possibly the hardest he had ever in his life …
“—Oh, oh boy, pl, please …” he huffed, “… Just ahh, ahh, ask it …” vines from the ground sprouted upward, they reached past the broken shards of the wooden X and raised themselves towards his lower spine, their tips now grazing each ass cheek, their claw like grab pulling his buttocks apart tenderly, to expose the softness of his tight, tiny hole, “… Wha, whaa, are, are you gonna fff, have sex with me? Please, please …” vines from above returned to his nipples, his navel, the hair of his underarms as one singular vine coiled around his neck, “—What is thisaaAcck!—”
What is Peter’s surname?
Joshua blinked just once as he hit a mental wall, the vines twirling him upside down so that the bottoms of his feet faced the roof of the cave, “—Ahhh!—”, his curls of hair now dangling towards the floor, his arms and legs still in a taunt X shape, his bewildered silence being his answer, “—Mnn, uhh, mnn …”, he did not know, he was clueless, ashamed, his mouth wide open in shock as the vines exposing his buttocks began to stroke and pet his hole, their tips nudging against it, wanting to invade, to enter, to feel the warmth that made up Joshua’s inside as his cock continued to throb and throb and throb …
You think you know him so well.
You think you deserve his attention.
You think you can fulfill his desires.
Yet you do not even know his surname …
“Al, alright! … I, I have no idea!—” Joshua croaked, tiny wire sized vines scrambling from the caves ceiling, “—I’m sorry! Damnit, tell me!—” he shouted so loud that his voice echoed, “—Please! Please? lemme go! Lemme down! Lemme out!—”, his feet jolted and flexed as soon as he felt sharp tips stroke against them, the vines from the ceiling latching around his toes as they tickled their betweens in a constant curl around each fleshy digit, “—Gragh! Grahahahah! My, my toes! Graahahahaha! Graahahaha! Oh, oh, oh, damn!—”
He has traced a feather from the tip of your nose, all the way down your body, to the very peak of your heels …
He has kissed your adam’s apple, travelled his tongue towards the lobe of your ears …
He has been inside of you.
The vines curled tightly his cock fondled, kneaded and petted the ache towards the end of his erection, the smaller vines frollicing at his butt cheeks now boldly fingered the hairless, tight space around his hole, his laughter now elevated into growl-like, dribble soaked screams that could be heard within the tree tops towering high above the cave, “—GRAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAGHHHH! AAAAAHHHHH! STTTAAAAHHAAAAHAHAHAAAAA NOAAAAAHHAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAGHHHH!—”
Yet you do not even know his surname …
Joshua began to shriek and howl, his bound body twisting and flexing in its natural bondage, unable to tear free as the vines kept him spinning and twirling in the air, “—SSSSTOAAAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHHHP SSTTTTOAAAAHAHAHAHAHAP NOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA! MNNM! MNN! I’M GONNA PASS, PASS OUT!—”
He has paid you thousands of dollars.
He has embraced you, allowed your tears to dry against his skin.
He chose you, for this, over someone else.
More vines sprouted from the ground and grew towards his neck, their sharp tips stroking his jaw, his throat, his collarbone, the areas that made up one of his most ticklish spots, a spot that had made him cry out safe words, beg and plead, a spot he could barely stand it being breathed upon …
“—NYAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAAHHAHA! HAHAANNYYAAAAAA! HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHH!—” he salivated and barked, he roared and he snarled, all whilst giggling in shriek like yelps as the base of his neck was molested, another three, four, five, six smaller, thinner vines now readying their invasion between his buttocks …
Yet you do not even know his—
—Another hand raised itself, this one not belonging to Klådjur …
Instead, it reached out from the shadows and presented itself as ungloved, belonging to a forty something year old, the person stepping into the light handsome and in charge, with only three words to say:
“Let him cum,” Peter ordered.
Klådjur bowed his head as the vines tangled around almost every inch of Joshua’s body scurried away, unravelling themselves from his limbs whilst also gently keeping hold of his left ankle, his balls and his erection …
Huff, huff, huff …
Joshua hung upside down by one leg, the vines working his arousal rubbing themselves delicately against his shaft, “—Oh, oh lord, thank you, thank you …” he went to take hold of his manhood, to control his own orgasm, but The Forest whipped around his wrists and kept forced them above his head, “—Mnn! Peter!—”, where his knuckles almost grazed the dirt, his cock now massaged by ooze and coils, leaving him shuddering, speechless and shivering mid-air, until his hips nudged forwards and the muscles in his waist shot out a long, creamy line that hurtled towards Peter, it’s land arriving over Peter’s shirt and his loosely knotted tie.
“—Mnn! Mnnn! Mnn!—”, Joshua’s eyes squeezed shut, his lips pressed together, he spun in his dangle, the vine around his ankle allowing him to twirl as his cock relentlessly spewed out its release, like it had wanted to do since the vines had tangled themselves around the thickness of his shaft, “—Oh, oh, oh!—”, the more he thrusted, the more cum he expelled, the vine around his ankle now gently lowering him to the floor, where it laid him out over the grass like some naked, taken prince who had been stolen from his castle and had fallen victim to the hunger of the woodland …
The vines curled away from his leg and body, they wriggled back inside the caves floor, its walls, its ceiling; Joshua rolled onto his back and lay there nude and panting as Peter stepped forwards, his shadow blanketing Ticklee 005 …
Peter removed a glass vial and an earbud from the back pocket of his chinos.
Using the earbud, he then scooped a generous amount of Joshua’s cum away from his shirt and into the vial, closing the vials lid afterward.
He pocketed the vial, threw the earbud over his shoulder and then looked down at Joshua, who now appeared as confused and disorientated.
The drug of the biscuit had begun to subside; Joshua’s heavy eyes could have sworn the ropes were once vines, that the string could have been weeds, that the hand around his cock could have been a leaf-like coil …
Klådjur stepped back into the darkness, the glow of his green stare being the last thing Joshua could make out of his captor before Klådjur faded away completely.
Your trial is complete.
You leave with one hundred thousand points.
The cave door opened above, shedding a bright beam of light down over Joshua, who could only squint into the tall, dark figure standing over him.
“P… Pe … Peter …”
Peter pocketed the vial and knelt down, scooping Joshua up with both arms as a wooden line of steps dropped down from the opening, which allowed Peter to carry Joshua upward, out of the cave, where he finally stepped into The Forest.
Joshua, naked and soaked with perspiration, heaving and wheezing into Peter’s cum-stained shirt as if all energy had been drained from him, simply glanced up at his savior and mumbled out the words, “… You were, you were some kind of, t, tickle monster …”
Peter’s expression remained firm and flat as he carried Joshua back towards The House, the only existing monster being he himself.
Later that day …
Logan used the big toe of his left foot to rub against his right sole as he tried to terminate a lingering itch still present from The Clown’s itching powder.
He sat on a deck chair around The Mansion’s pool in only a soft, thick cotton dressing gown with his name stitched onto the back.
Sunglasses sat on the tip of his nose, his legs were crossed at the ankle and in his left hand he held a cheeseburger.
Aaron arrived beside Logan and handed him a tub of mayonnaise and a spoon.
“It’s full fat, just like you asked,” Aaron informed.
Logan smirked and took the tub of mayo, spooning out a generous dollop that he smeared over the side of his cheeseburger.
“The diet’s out the window, kid,” Logan stuffed the burger into his mouth, “Hey, ish the booze on the way?”
The hidden cameras wired into the trees of The Forest captured everything; they watched Sebastian betray Logan, they observed as the helicopter took Logan away, they gave The Masked Security enough information to pull together an available team that were able to locate Logan and save him, all whilst several other security teams spent their time still trying to find Tom …
“Your wine will be here in five minutes,” Aaron confirmed, where he then took a seat on the deck chair opposite Logan, “This is the last time I ask, but The HOWF HR Department will have me in The Hole if I don’t check in for a third time …” he shuffled forwards, “… Are you okay?”
Logan shrugged and swallowed down on the bite of his cheeseburger, “I’m okay. I don’t believe you, but I’m okay …”
Aaron cocked an eyebrow, “All this?” He gestured to the pool, the burger, the personalised gown, “It’s not enough to convince you? They never do anything like this …”
Logan dipped his burger into the tub of mayo, “Lemme get this straight,” he cleared his throat, “You’re telling me the clown guy was a stray, an obsessive weirdo. He tricked Sebastian into doing something offline,” he coated the end of his burger in the sauce and then handed the tub back to Aaron, “And you just got there in time? Conveniently showing me a different side to what I’m used to …” he took another bite out of his burger, “I’m either the luckisht guy or the unluckiesht guy on earth, I ‘unno,” he said, mouth smugly full.
Aaron lowered his head and placed the lid over the tub of mayonnaise, “Behind the scenes are a little harder to manage than you think. On behalf of The House of White Feathers, I can only apologise. It … It won’t happen again …”
Logan’s calm exterior, his cheeseburger chomping vibe, the fact he sat so casually in his dressing gown remained concealed by how well he pretend that everything was alright, but the lean towards Aaron’s ear, the growl in Logan’s tone, that said something different …
“… Get me the fuck out of here …”
Ding-a-ling …!
The ring of a bell informed Aaron and Logan of one thing.
“Your uh, your drinks are here …” Aaron stood and turned towards the open door closest to the pool side, “… We thought your servant this evening should be the person you’ll be most happy to boss around …”
Logan removed his sunglasses and grinned in satisfaction as he watched Sebastian step out into the garden.
“You really are spoiling me,” Logan beamed.
Sebastian wore nothing but a dog collar and a leash, which was held by a cloaked, Masked Henchman.
Sebastian’s wrists were tied together by rope and in his palms he held a silver tray with an ice bucket and one wine glass placed on its surface.
Inside the ice bucket rested a large bottle of near-frozen chardonnay and two bottles of beer.
Aaron placed a comforting hand over Logan’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “Win, alright? The only thing me and that clown have in common is that you’re my favourite …”
As Aaron and The Masked Henchman walked back inside The Mansion, Timothée, Kit and Justin looked down at the poolside from behind the bars of their Living Quarters window.
Sebastian stood at the foot of Logan’s deck chair, looking rather grumpy and defeated.
Logan placed the sunglasses back over the bridge of his nose, but kept his eyes on Sebastian as he directed his first order of the evening.
“Kneel, you fuck.”
Peter kneeled at the doorway to John’s private care room.
He wore a suit and tie, his head was lowered, his hands dangled at his sides.
The door clicked open inward, revealing a tall standing Masked Nurse.
The Masked Nurse stepped aside and allowed Peter into the room, where the door closed gently behind him.
Peter arrived at the sight of Miller taking a glass vial of cum away from the surface of a table.
On the table was a iced glass of whiskey and a singular white feather.
Miller uncapped the vial, a vial Peter had used to collect cum from Joshua, and journeyed it towards the lips of John, who sat hunched over and wheezing in his wheelchair, with plastic wires tangling out from his nostrils, his mouth, his throat and the cuffs of his shirt, almost as vine-like as the imaginary tormentors that had pushed Joshua to a state of fevered bliss.
Miller carefully tipped the vial into John’s mouth, like a mother bird feeding its chick; John’s glazed over eyes widened, he glugged down the contents and then, once the vial was empty, The Masked Nurse carefully patted John’s lips dry with a silk cloth.
Peter broke the moment of worship with a blunt and sudden question.
“Does that really work?” He asked.
Miller paused completely as John sank within his wheelchair.
“She says so,” Miller gestured to The Masked Nurse and then handed her the vial, “Although I think we should try your second recommendation: sweat …” he whispered, nearing The Masked Nurse’s left ear, “… This time, from …” his announcement of who he wanted to collect cum from next could only be heard in the form of a barely there, hushed mumble …
Peter folded his arms as The Masked Nurse bowed and then left the room.
Miller shrugged off his coat and perched at the corner of the double bed as John gradually fell back to sleep.
“It’s a cocktail,” Miller explained, “Eighty percent his prescribed medicine, twenty percent ejaculation or, any other form of moisture from the group. It makes him feel stronger …” he sighed, “… Or, at least he thinks it does …”
Miller kept the moments to himself where John talked to the wall as if he were a twenty year old again, he chose not to mention yesterday morning when John tried to stand in his wheelchair to locate Timothée, he decided against revealing an instance two nights ago when Miller woke in the middle of the night to find John in his wheelchair on the balcony outside, in full conversation with a person that was not there, “… I don’t know what he thinks these days,” were the words he picked to finish on.
Peter looked down into the floorboards, the surrounding force and its desires far too intimidating to question, a simple, “I’m sorry,” leaving his lips in a whisper.
Miller reached forwards and picked up the glass of whiskey, “Are you apologising for his state, or to me?” He took a sip, but kept his eyes on Peter.
Peter glanced out of the bedroom window, out into the wide gardens surrounding The Mansion which led out to The Forest he had carried Joshua through only hours ago.
“Both,” his tone suggested that is what he thought, but after a sturdy cough to clear his throat, he reasserted his answer, “… Both …” his tone now suggested that is what he knew, whilst his follow up announcement still hinted at a level of compassion, “… Thank you, for letting me be a part of today. I .. I’ve ...” go on, say it, Peter thought …
Miller smiled warmly, “You miss him,” he finished Peter’s sentence for him.
Miller lifted himself into a stand and placed his glass of whiskey back over the surface of the desk.
He then stood beside Peter and whispered into the left side of his face, his voice soaked with the scent of alcohol.
“I can’t entomb the fact you were both meeting up, intimately, whilst all of this is in full swing,” he curled his hand around Peter’s wrist and began to crush it with his grasp, “Especially when all he wanted to do was contact the outside world,” he had to force the memory of burning iPhones into Peter’s mind, “What we’re doing here is far greater than two horny fucks getting a kick out of kink …” the hold around Peter’s wrist tightened, “… Do you understand?”
Peter nodded quickly as beads of sweat arrived over his upper lip.
Miller’s mouth moved closer to Peter’s left side of his face, so much so that his warm breath puffed in a moist pound against Peter’s cheek.
“Today was my last slice of generosity,” Miller warned, “If you even look at him for more than two seconds, you’re out like Garfield, gone like Hammer, banished like that other miserable bastard …”
Peter huffed as Miller let go of his wrist and paced towards the doorway.
“I’m nothing like him,” Peter turned to face Miller’s back, “I told you. I’m yours.”
Miller remained still and contemplating, his lesson to Peter now taught, his line firmly drawn under the sand.
As he went to open the door himself, the door opened for him.
Miller and Peter stepped back as a hooded Masked Henchmen entered the room in a breathless hurry, his news delivered in an excited and exuberant pant:
“Ticklee 000 has been found,” he said, “And Hypno is ready …”
ACT ONE OF ‘THE HOUSE OF WHITE FEATHERS’ CONCLUDES WITH JOSHUA GAINING ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POINTS, AND TOM BEING CAPTURED.
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? FIND OUT IN ACT II, COMING SOON!