Author’s note: this fic is connected to Henry’s Kryptonite
1st April
The Dominick Hotel, New York City
Justin purposefully took his time in slowly removing both of Shawn’s white Nike socks.
He bit his lower lip, carefully peeling the white cotton away from Shawn’s heels where the socks eventually left all ten of his toes - toes that Shawn couldn’t help but curl out into a nervous flex.
“Holy shit …” Justin gasped, “They’re even prettier in person …”
Shawn showcased that blinding smile, his already rosy cheeks deepening in their shade of pink.
“They are?”
Justin smirked, throwing the socks over his left shoulder where they landed with a plop on the hotel room carpet.
“You know they are, Mendes … ”
Shawn couldn’t help but grin, proudly folding his arms across his bare chest as he leant back into the many plump pillows gathered behind him.
“Yeah, they’re pretty … Pretty damn ticklish, that’s f’sure,” he tucked his hands under his armpits as he watched Justin lower down the top half of the wooden stocks, “Just ten minutes, right?”
Clank!
Shawn’s ankles were now completely secured as Justin positioned his iPhone against the digital alarm clock on the desk opposite the bed Shawn sat on, ignoring Shawn’s question entirely.
“Man, before we start I, I just wanna say, I really appreciate you helping me out with this. Seriously, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d said no …”
Justin placed both palms together and closed his eyes, nodding his head at the twenty four year old pop star in thanks.
Shawn raised his eyebrows, sympathy saturating his face as Justin opened his eyes, turned around and hit the record button.
“Jeez … They’ve uh, they’ve really got to you, haven’t they?” He asked.
Justin nodded slowly, keeping his bare back facing Shawn.
“I’m just lucky I have a friend as open minded and as understanding as you,” he stared blankly into the iphone, watching the recorded seconds pass by, trying his hardest not to give up his act, “It’s got to the point where I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t write music. I think about them all of the time …”
Justin smiled to himself, happy with his performance so far, his expression hidden from Shawn, “ … God only knows what they’re gonna make me do next …”
Justin turned back around and wiped some emotion from under his nose, huffing in frustration as he dropped his butt onto the corner of the mattress in a gentle bounce.
“It’s tickling, JB … ” Shawn unfolded his arms and sat forwards, as much as his stocked position would allow, “ … It’s ten minutes. If making this content gets you out of your situation, then that’s all I care about …”
Justin couldn’t look Shawn in the eye.
He kept his avoiding gaze focused into his lap as he mumbled out a response.
“You’re a saint, Mendes …”
Shawn sat back against the pillows, his arms returning to their folded position.
“You’d do the same for me.”
Justin winced internally, unsure if his levels of loyalty were the same as Shawn’s.
He cleared his throat, adjusted the green beanie sitting snug over blonde waves of hair and scratched his tattooed bare stomach as he stood up and kicked off his crocs.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he announced, taking socked feet over to the ensuite bathroom where he retrieved a bottle of baby oil purchased from the pharmacy a few blocks away, “There’s a few rules that they want me to explain, before we begin …”
Shawn, dressed in just grey sweatpants and Tommy Hilfiger underwear, glanced down at the stocks, his feet wiggling from side to side as he patiently waited for Justin to return to the bed.
“Rules?”
Justin left the ensuite, baby oil in hand, his other hand hooked over the waistband of his Calvin Kleins and baggy jeans.
“Well, because you refused to have your hands tied,” Justin dragged the hotel room armchair to the bottom of the bed, “They requested that you strictly do not reaching across,” Justin sat in the chair and placed the baby oil between his feet, tapping the top of the stocks with his fingertips, “You can’t try and stop me, no matter how hard it gets.”
Shawn nodded, swallowing down an unexpected bubble of concern, holding his hands up.
“Got it,” he said, peering over the stocks to try and see where Justin had placed the bottle of baby oil, “Keeping these guys to myself.”
Justin smirked, giving Shawn the thumbs up.
“Awesome. The other rule is: you have to do what I say,” Justin lifted his head a little, his eyes dropping down to glance at the tops of Shawn’s near-perfect feet, “I’m in charge. I’m the boss ... I’ve been in your position. You wanna get through these ten minutes without breaking a sweat? You listen to me …”
Shawn grinned once again, his teeths white sparkle surrounded by plump, soft lips.
“JB! You’re gonna enjoy this, I can tell, you son of a … “
Justin rested his elbows on his knees, his face inches away from Shawn’s bare feet.
“What can I say! I’ve had the shit tickled out of me three times now, it feels good to be the one in control …”
He began to aim his right index finger towards the bottom of Shawn’s right foot.
“Alright,” he whispered, “Here we g–”
“--Wait,” Shawn sounded alarmed, “We’re, we’re starting right now? …” He sat forwards, his arms unfolding quickly.
“We’re starting right now,” Justin confirmed, his index finger landing against the bottom of Shawn’s foot, where it started its trail down towards his heel, his voice adopting the tone of a dramatic narrator as he felt Shawn’s soft skin beneath his fingernail …
“It’s happening. You’re about to experience your first tickle torture session, at the hands of me, Justin Bieber …” he cackled, “ … Your ultimate pop rival …”
Shawn placed his hands behind him, leaning back in an attempt to portray a casual, relaxed stance as much as he possibly could even if his heart beat had suddenly increased in the space of just a few seconds.
Justin watched Shawn’s toes scrunch up as soon as he hit his arch, his stroke still intensely gentle.
Shawn slowly twisted his foot towards his left, his quiet smile spreading out into a third illuminating grin as his eyes widened.
“O, okay, al, alright,” Shawn chuckled, his voice soaked in concern, “Please, please …”
Justin raised both eyebrows, his fingers now jumping without warning to Shawn’s left foot.
“... You begging already? …” He teased.
Justin playfully toyed with the ‘unexpected’ style, his tickling never staying in the same spot for more than two seconds, his fingertips jumping back to Shawn’s right sole, then over to his left, then to his right again, never actioning a hard or aggressive stroke, always a soft and delicate brush, for now anyway …
Shawn’s feet twisted and writhed as his voice deepened.
“No no,” Shawn winced, shaking his head in bewilderment, “Please, please, come on–”
–After just nine seconds of gentle foot tickling, Shawn fiercely reached across the top of the stocks with his right hand in an attempt to snatch hold of Justin’s fingers.
“—No, JB, I can’t come on!”
“--Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Justin yanked his hand away from Shawn as Shawn fell back into the pillows with a huff.
Shawn’s clenched teeth and breathlessness showcased his full awareness of rule breaking, as well as his inability to deal with simply having the bottoms of his feet barely touched over such a short space of time.
“Mendes,” Justin warned, “I told you, you can’t reach ov–”
“-- I know, I know,” Shawn squeezed his eyes shut, “It’s just, they’re really, really ticklish, man … I, I … I didn’t realise I, I, don’t even know if I can–”
Justin shaped his right hand into a karate chop position.
“Look, dude, I know, we’ve all seen the fish pedicure video,” he reminded, thumping the side of his hand down over the top of the stocks, “But it’s just ten minutes … Try and take it, try and last for at least–”
“--Yeah, okay, alright,” Shawn wiped his palms over his face, “Just, be gentle, okay? Be careful. Go, go slow …”
Justin nodded, raising his right hand in readiness, his eyes reassuring Shawn that he would consider his good friends' reservations.
“I’m going slow …”
He began to brush ever so gently over the sole of Shawn’s left foot, his fingertips barely touching the silky smooth expanse, “See? Nice and slow …”
Shawn breathed in through his nose, his hands returning behind him, his leant back position a little strained after discovering that he might be more ticklish than he dared to comprehend …
He watched Justin carefully trail his index finger from heel to toe, from toe to heel, its tip only sliding across the sleek surface every now and again, for milliseconds at a time …
Shawn maintained a calm composure, his foot remaining still as Justin took his touch over to his right foot.
“… Tickle, tickle … ” Justin taunted.
Shawn never took his eyes away from Justin’s hand.
He breathed in and out, slowly and surely, his lips pressed together tightly.
When Justin started to wiggle his fingers around the arch of Shawn’s right foot, Shawn couldn’t help but lift his foot and scrunch all five toes up tightly.
He flared his nostrils and bit his lower lip.
Justin grinned, aware that he may have landed on a weak spot.
Still keen to work the unexpected style, instead of staying around that area any longer, he clocked the spot mentally and decided to trail his fingertips down towards Shawn’s right heel.
Shawn let out a sudden splutter of air, his eyes narrowing at Justin’s hand, his fingers curling into the chunks of mattress behind him.
Justin hovered around his heel, his tongue poking out between his teeth in focus as he watched Shawn continue to remain calm.
“... Cootchie cootchie cooooo … “ he sang, his brown eyes twinkling.
Justin then took his gentle touch slowly back towards the arch, where both of Shawn’s feet suddenly thrashed over each other, with such strength and in such a jolt that the stocks shook with a creak.
“... Fuck …” Shawn hissed.
Justin’s fingers then jumped over to Shawn’s left arch, where they acted out the same gentle scratch over the hyper sensitive skin.
Another sudden foot-thrash from Shawn, this one harder, this time the stocks shifting in their fixed down position.
“ … Man …!” Shawn pressed his chin against his chest.
Justin used his free hand to calmly and quietly curl around Shawn’s left big toe, gripping hold of it tightly where he pinned his foot back against the stock, keeping it in place.
Some police sirens echoed below, filling the quiet air con atmosphere between tickler and ticklee …
Shawn’s mouth made an ‘O’ shape as he watched Justin pull his foot into place, his mind informing him that Justin might start to blend the cheekiness of his personality into these ten minutes of tickling.
“Alright, JB, come on, stay gentle …”
Justin then began to scribble over the arch of Shawn’s left foot, his fingernails scratching down hard over the now sweaty pad of skin.
Shawn’s nine free toes clamped down into a furious scrunch, his right foot stretching over to his left in an attempt to push Justin’s tickling fingers away.
Justin persisted, a large smirk spreading across his face.
Shawn laughed just the once, into his shoulder, as if in disbelief that Justin would ignore him like that.
He tried to pull his foot out of Justin’s grasp, but Justin’s hold over his big toe made such movement impossible.
“Hey!” Shawn shouted, “Go slow, okay, go, go easy …!”
Shawn still leant back on his arms, still pressed his lips together, still keen not to give away his true desire to reach forward and pull Justin’s hands away, still desperate to not laugh out loud or inform his tickler of how much this truly tickled …
Justin remained unresponsive, his smirk turning into a sadistic grin as he continued to stay over Shawn’s left arch, his relentless yet gentle scratch on-going despite acknowledging Shawn’s request.
Shawn’s toes remained scrunched, his right foot now stuck in a fixed, manic stretch across his left.
Justin giggled as he watched the toes of Shawn’s right foot curl outwards, their juicy, fleshy lengths working as fingers as they tried to nudge Justin’s hand away …
“... Justin …” Shawn warned, his tone deep and trembling.
Justin slowed down his touch, his middle finger drawing circles across the bottom of Shawn’s left foot, Shawn’s left big toe still caught between his index finger and thumb, the threat of a potentially intense tickle intentionally left as a constant presence …
“... Shawn …” Justin matched the same tone as his submissive friend.
Shawn kept his eyes on Justin’s hand, shaking his head slowly, a thin layer of sweat developing over his forehead.
“Come on, man, I swear, it’s been ten minutes, it–” Shawn tutted, “--We should’ve set a damn alarm–”
“-- Oh, there are much more wicked tools, Mendes …” Justin informed, his middle finger still drawing soft, teasing circles, “... This is only the beginning, really. I haven’t even let rip yet …”
The toes of Shawn’s left foot curled out of their scrunch as he planted his palms on the mattress and lifted his butt off the bed by a few inches, his jaw stretching open.
“... Damn … Yeah, well … If, if this is just the beginning then …” he began to change his mind, “... I dunno, man. I don’t think I wanna –”
Just as Shawn was about to reach over and snatch Justin’s fingers away from the bottom of his foot …
… Justin finally let go of Shawn’s big toe.
Shawn’s butt fell back onto the bed with a bounce, a heavy, flustered sigh blowing out of his puffy lips.
As Justin stopped the tickling, he carefully reached down to the carpet and curled his fingers around the bottle of baby oil.
“You gonna let me try something else?” He asked.
Shawn sat forwards, exhaling as he placed his hands in his lap, keen to maintain his promise to his friend …
… His goal in all of this was to get him out of trouble, after all.
“What do you wanna try?” Shawn responded reluctantly.
Justin uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount into his right palm, “I’m gonna put a little oil on the bottoms of your feet …” he then began to rub his oily hands over Shawns soles, massaging them firmly with his fingers.
Shawn cocked an eyebrow, relaxing into the steady roll of Justin’s fingertips as he tilted his head in curiosity.
“Does … That make it more sensitive?”
Justin poured more generous lashings of oil into his palm, immediately taking the shimmering puddles to Shawn’s feet where he slapped the liquid onto his soles forcefully.
Justin once again ignored Shawn’s question, his fingers intentionally not tickling Shawn, his aim to lead him into a false sense of security and calm tranquility before the real torture.
“They were right when they said your feet would be exquisite,” Justin said, “They’re flawless, Mendes. There’s hardly a scratch on them. No wonder you’re so ticklish …”
Shawn still grimaced at times, when Justin would accidentally rub against his arch or middle toes, but otherwise he felt able to rest his weight into the bed and sit there and take it.
“Yeah uh, that fish pedicure video going viral has gotten me into a lot of trouble …” Shawn admitted.
Justin licked his lips, taking in the now shining surface of Shawn’s soles as droplets of oil fell off his heels and stained the carpet below.
“People know your weakness …” Justin lazily patted his hands dry on the thighs of his jeans, “... Some very important people …”
Shawn slowly closed his eyes, curling his toes as the baby oil seeped between them.
“I guess.”
Justin, hesitant at first, pressed his thumb over his chin as he paused before asking a question that had landed in his head shortly after Shawn had stepped foot inside the hotel.
“Has … Anyone ever admired your feet before?” He asked, “Not like, thirsty Instagram comments, I mean, like, a person …”
Shawn felt his throat tighten, Justin’s question making him feel surprisingly nervous.
“... No,” he shrugged, “I uh, I get people saying it sometimes, but no one has actually …”
“... Done something like this?” As Justin finished Shawn’s sentence for him, he slowly leaned towards Shawn’s right foot and kissed his left big toe, his plump lips softly pressing against the pad of Shawn’s oily, fleshy digit.
The traffic in the New York City streets below filled the silence in the hotel room as Shawn watched Justin remain in position, his lips taking Shawn’s toe entirely in a sudden and unexpected suck.
Shawn’s mouth fell open.
Justin closed his eyes, sucking on the toe for a few more seconds before allowing it to leave his mouth as if it were a fruity lollipop.
“Damn, JB …” Shawn whispered.
Justin winked, wiping his mouth clear of lotion.
He then shuffled the armchair closer towards Shawn’s left foot, reaching his hand into the back of his jeans pocket.
“Alright,” he declared, acting as if the toe suck had never happened, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna tie your big toes back …” Justin pointed to Shawn’s left big toe and then at the metal hooks nailed into the stock's surface, “... Just so your feet don’t …” Justin clenched his fists and shook them once, “... Thrash about, like they’ve been doing since we started …”
Shawn winced, his facial expression saying ‘sorry’, his one nod saying, ‘I understand’.
“... I’m just gonna go hard,” Justin warned, “For the final five minutes … And I want you to really just do whatever you need to,” Justin pointed at the iPhone recording the session, “Laugh, curse, shout, scream, call me names … They’ll love all that … Alright?”
“Okay, I, I got it,” Shawn nodded, his rosy cheeks flushing a bright red as anxiety began to consume him, “... Five minutes …” he wasn’t sure if he were asking Justin for reassurance that five minutes was really all it would be, or if he were trying to reassure himself …
“Five minutes …” Justin grew more excited by the second as he so effortlessly led Shawn deeper down the rabbit hole, “... Just five minutes …” he then picked out two small lengths of white string from his jeans pocket and began to tie Shawn’s left toe to one of the metal hooks.
Shawn leant back on his hands, watching Justin almost too expertly pin his foot into position.
“I’m so glad this is nearly over, man,” Shawn chuckled, glancing up at the ceiling, “I don’t think I can take much more …”
Justin narrowed his eyes in focus, reaching over to tie Shawn’s right big toe to one of the metal hooks, “You’re hilarious, Mendes. I’ve barely even touched you …”
Shawn’s eyes followed Justin as the twenty nine year old stood from the armchair and strolled back towards the ensuite.
“I told you, man! They’re really, really–”
–Justin returned with an electric massager in his right hand, where he wielded it like a sword, the tool silencing Shawn completely.
Justin plugged the device’s wire into a nearby wall socket and sat back in the armchair, raising the tool in the air and admiring it with squinted eyes.
“This is an electric massager,” Justin announced, “They haven’t used one on me yet, but, they asked me to source this specific one just for you …”
Justin took in the device's cylindrical shape, its plastic surface, its one squidgy button and its capped end, an end with a surface covered in pointed, plastic bristles …
“Apparently it’s very effective for tickling,” Justin couldn’t help but bounce his knees enthusiastically as he pressed his thumb over the massagers ‘on’ button, the device vibrating steadily in his hand.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz …
“Okay, okay,” Shawn scratched the tip of his nose, “Alright, this is … Damn, just go slow,” he began to panic, his head shaking in disbelief, “That’s all I ask, JB. Go slow …”
Justin shaped his free hand back into a karate chop, patting the top of the stocks repeatedly.
“And you promise not to reach across?”
Shawn raised his eyebrows and lifted his shoulders.
“I’ve never had something like that on my feet, Justin … So, l’ll do my best, man! I uh, I’ll do my best …”
Justin nodded, “Alright,” he then pressed the button under his thumb once again, enhancing the electric massager’s vibration, the prickly cap buzzing so much that its bristles began to blur …
He then started to move the massager towards the sole of Shawn’s left foot.
Shawn stared into the window, his eyes taking in details of the New York skyline, the tall skyscrapers outside, the flock of pigeons travelling from one roof top to another …
And then it arrived - the massagers cap …
On his heel at first, where it slowly began to travel up to his arch …
For the first time since being locked into the stocks, Shawn couldn’t contain his laughter.
His toes scrunched up, a now expected defence mechanism from the twenty four year old, and then high pitched giggles left his wide smile in a sudden exit that he had no interest in keeping quiet, mostly because he simply couldn’t.
He shuffled forwards, leaving his once leant back position for good as he jaw began to widen and his unblinking eyes started to water.
More laughter, this time deeper, the bellows coming from the very middle of his stomach …
Shawn wrapped his arms under his knees, reminding himself to not reach across, even if his mind so desperately wanted him to do so.
Justin dragged the massager over Shawn’s arch repeatedly, the vibrating buzz penetrating the hyper ticklish, oil drenched expanse of skin relentlessly and unapologetically.
“Alright, alright!” Shawn broke almost immediately, his face creasing into an expression showcasing nothing but hysteric agony, “Do the other one, please, JB, do the other one!
Justin cocked an eyebrow.
“Do the other one?” He teased.
Shawn thrashed his right foot around from side to side, as if that would help Justin in noticing it.
“YEAH!” He cried, “That one has had too much, come on!”
Justin continued his press, “Your saying your left foot is more ticklish than your right?”
Shawn squeezed his eyes shut, a long drawl of loud, high pitched laughter leaving his mouth before he could compartmentalise his thoughts and begin to formulate words.
“Yes –” he managed, clenching his teeth, “-- I, I mean no–” he tripped over himself mentally, accidentally giving away the hyper sensitivity of his left foot by begging Justin to move to the right.
Justin ran the massager up and down Shawn’s sole, his other hand reaching over to Shawn’s right foot where he actioned a sudden scratch into his arch.
“How about we just do both …” he giggled.
Shawn shifted on the spot, the bed creaking under his weight.
“No!” He curled his fists into balls, growling into the stocks, “... Just do one, just do one–”
Shawn became breathless, his mind tumbling into shock as his toes flexed and scrunched, his hands now clawing at the material of his sweatpants …
He gasped and chuckled, breathed in sharply and then exhaled in the form of groans, his eyes always watching the massager jump from left foot to right, Justin’s method toying, calculated and merciless …
Justin kept the massager over Shawn’s left foot as he reached into his back pocket, where he had secretly stuffed another tool whilst searching around the ensuite bathroom.
Shawn raised his eyebrows as he watched Justin reveal a blue hairbrush.
Without warning, without discussing it first, without introducing it or informing Shawn that this would be happening next, Justin ran the hairbrush over Shawn’s right sole, the plastic bristles landing over his silky, oily skin where they travelled across the sensitive expanse in one long, effortless glide.
Shawn threw his entire body upward.
“AGH–”
A concerned and disturbed heave left his throat as he yanked his weight away from the stocks, his feet remaining fixed in position, the entire bed shifting a few inches across the carpet.
“Holy Shit!” Justin’s eyes widened as he experienced Shawn’s fierce jolt take place, the hairbrush clearly becoming Shawn’s number one enemy within seconds, “I think this works better…”
Justin switched off the massager and laid it over the mattress, focusing entirely on tickling Shawn’s feet with the hairbrush.
Shawn’s mouth remained open, his manic glare aimed at the brush as Justin ran it over each sole with no rhythm or pattern, just a quick glide from left to right on one sole and then a sudden jump to the other sole to repeat the same action.
Shawn planted his palms on the bed and lifted himself up, his head thrashing from side to side in surprise as Justin ran the hairbrush over his right sole non stop, to the point where Shawn’s toes clenched so hard that they had begun to cramp.
“Okay, okay … ” Shawn puffed, “... That’s five minutes,” he muttered, “It’s been five minutes …”
Justin frowned in pretend thought, “It has?”
He continued to run the hairbrush from side to side, his free hand tickling Shawn’s left sole, his fingernails scratching over the tender ticklish space beneath his toes.
Shawn’s feet twisted and writhed, their long, creamy shape held into place by the string pinning back each of his big toes.
“Come on, man,” Shawn sounded determined, flustered, pissed off, “It’s been time, stop, please, come on, JB …”
Shawn kicked his legs, he bounced over the bed, he allowed pillows and the electric massager to tumble to the floor …
Justin didn’t really care if it had been five minutes …
He hadn’t been counting and he had no intention in looking at the iPhone screen to see how many minutes had been recorded either …
He just continued to run the hairbrush over Shawn’s left sole, whilst tickling his right with his fingernails, a large grin spreading across his face the more Shawn thrashed and shouted on the spot.
“JB!” Shawn began to shout, as if telling off his friend, his tone stern and authoritative, his left sole too ticklish to handle, “Come on, stop, listen to me, man–”
His pleas were riddled with laughter and grunts, his hysteria now strained and distorted as it left a throat now coarse from shouting.
“Alright, okay, just not the brush, anything but that, man I can’t take that, go back to the massager, come on, DAMN–”
Shawn’s feet had now started to pull forward from the stocks, in an attempt for his big toes to slip out from the string tying them back, but the stocks and toe bondage were all too tightly secured.
Justin’s fingers and hairbrush would often strike a hyper ticklish section of Shawn’s soles anyway, causing Shawn’s feet to give up their try of an escape and instead go back to writhing and squirming away from the brush's plastic bristles …
“ … Tickle tickle tickle …” Justin sang once again, “ … This is funner than I thought! I’ll just keep going all day long …”
Shawn broke his promise after hearing such threatening words, the idea of being stuck here for longer than five minutes creating a dread in the depths of his chest that he didn’t want to endure for any longer than he needed to.
He reached forwards and grabbed at Justin’s hand, trying to snatch and claw at his fingers, trying to take hold of the brush, trying to stop this horror taking place from the ankles down …
“Get offa me, Jesus Christ!”
But Justin was masterful in his dedication in keeping his tool - the brush remained tightly in his hand, the plastic bristles now working their way over each foot for a few seconds at a time, jumping to the right for a quick glide, then to the left, then to the right again …
“Don’t say the Lord's name in vain, Mendes …”
Shawn threw himself back, hysterics saturating a face already soaked in frustration and anger, helplessness and exploitation.
He bucked around on the bed, laughing madly into the ceiling, shouting out words and sentences Justin couldn’t make out due to their structure being so filled with mania and senseless babble.
Once again, Shawn threw himself forward and stretched out his arms, his fingers flexing towards Justin and the hairbrush.
“Not the left! Not the brush! Come on, JB, this isn’t fair, you’re being an asshole! Damn, man, please, come o—”
Justin persisted.
“--Is it too ticklish … ?” He asked, “Around here?” He ran the brush across Shawn’s left arch, “That’s what makes your eyes widen,” he announced, “You haven’t blinked in minutes …”
“YES–” Shawn widened his jaw but no noise or laughter came out, just a thickening of veins around his neck and a red blotch appearing over his forehead, his eyes now filled with water as he watched Justin glide the brush across the bottoms of his feet, “--I swear to God, oh my god, if you don’t stop I’m gonna pass out! I’m gonna pass out, I’m gonna—”
Justin slid the hairbrush away from Shawn’s sole, the bristles leaving the ticklish landscape by dragging torturously away from his heel.
Shawn fell onto his back with a bounce, a thin layer of sweat developing over his abs and chest as he heaved in and out, his lungs practically burning …
Justin stood from the armchair, spinning the hairbrush around his index finger as if it were a pistol.
“That’s what they call ‘pushing you to your limit’ …”
Justin waited patiently for Shawn’s response, keen to hear if he had achieved the goal he had been set out to achieve.
Shawn lay panting, his glazed over eyes staring at the ceiling, the morning shine from outside illuminating the damp, toned structure of his stomach and hips.
“They’ve got their damn ten minutes,” he huffed, “Now get me outta here …”
Justin pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“I’m gonna need to hear you say it, Mendes …” he urged.
Shawn laid his hands above his head, his armpits exposed, their hairy depths soaked in perspiration.
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly, “You pushed me to my limit … Happy?” He growled, “You’re an asshole. You were made for this shit … Alright?”
Justin smirked proudly, tucked the hairbrush under his right armpit, walked towards the mini bar and picked up two shot glasses and two small bottles of vodka.
“You’ll need a drink, for this next part,” Justin announced, “It’s about to get wild …”
Shawn sat up slowly, wincing at the cramp taking place around the tightness of his abs.
“ … Next part …? No, man, I’m done … I can’t do this anymore, they got what they wanted, come on, let me out …”
Justin kept his back facing Shawn as he began to pour the drinks.
“Be a sport, Mendes, it’s only another five minutes,” he shrugged casually, “You can take five minutes, can’t you, Shawn?”
Justin turned around and began to approach Shawn with a glass of vodka in each hand.
Shawn sighed, lowering his head, his stocked position reminding him that he no longer had a choice …
Like Justin had stated at the start - he was in charge.
“Just five more minutes …” Shawn narrowed his eyes at Justin as Justin handed him the glass of vodka.
Justin sat back in the armchair, hooking his right leg over the right arm.
“To friendship …” Just raised his glass.
Shawn rolled his eyes, raising his glass also.
“As soon as I’m out of these, I’m coming for you, Bieber,” Shawn muttered, before taking the shot down all at once.
Justin threw back his portion also.
Both young men winced as the alcohol burned the back of their throats.
Justin slouched back into the armchair, his face smug with self achievement.
“Alright, that left foot is your weakness. We know that much. So, I’m gonna hit it, with the brush, non stop …” he decided.
Shawn wiped his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut as he endured the sting of vodka trickling down the inside of his chest.
“Crap,” Shawn shook away the buzz by flapping his head from side to side, “Alright, you little bitch. Just do it, just get it over with.”
Justin spun the hairbrush in his grasp once again, patting his knee with his free hand in excitement.
“Boy, I’m gonna enjoy this!”
Shawn held his hands up.
“Wait, just, just give me a second … That shot was pretty, pretty … Strong …”
Justin ignored Shawn’s request.
“Get ready to scream your lungs out, Shawn …”
He then threw the hairbrush against Shawn’s left sole, causing the twenty four year old to practically jump out of his skin.
“DAMN, JB!”
Justin then slid the hairbrush from side to side, across Shawn’s arch, the baby oil still thick in its lingering presence, making the entire ordeal so much worse.
Shawn erupted into loud, manic laughter that left his throat in the form of constant shouts and breathless giggling, his face creasing up as his mouth splayed out into a stretched, distorted grin.
“Oh god, oh god, oh go-oh-oh-oh-ahahaha-ahahaha-ahahaha-ahahahaaad–” Shawn cried, “--please, please, please, please, please, please, no, no, no-ahahaha-ahahaha-ahahaha-ahaha–!”
Shawn began to cough and splutter the harder Justin implemented his tickle attack, the brush too intense and too torturous to even think about, causing Shawn’s head to tighten and his vision to blur …
“I can’t breathe, I can’t take it,” Shawn panted, “What are you doing, what did you do–”
Shawn felt confused, disorientated, unsure whether the hairbrush tickling was what made him think he would soon lose consciousness …
… Or if it was something else.
The bristles against his foot began to numb as Justin slowed down the tickling, now waiting for Shawn to fall asleep, the powder in his shot of vodka surely now ready to work it’s magic …
Shawn continued to cough and wheeze, his watery eyes taking in the wobble of the room around him.
The room slowly began to sway and blur, the walls dimming out of focus, the corners of the bed and the desk slowly fading into nothing.
Justin’s smirk, his tanned body, the details of his torso tattoos were the last thing Shawn managed to take in.
“Wait …” Shawn began to mumble as his lips lost movement, “... Wha tha fu …”
Justin’s smirk dropped as he watched Shawn fall back onto the bed in a gentle bounce, passing out entirely.
“April fools, Mendes …”
Silence filled the hotel room as Justin sat in the armchair quietly, swallowing down a bundle of horrible feelings consisting of guilt, dread and remorse.
“… Shit,” he whispered.
Shawn lay with his eyes closed, his stomach lifting and dropping, his body still and heavy.
The hotel door clicked open.
Creeeeeeaaaaaaaakkkkkk …
Justin turned to face the entrance of the room, the door slowly swinging inward …
In its frame stood The Clown …
The original Clown, the first one that had abducted Justin several months ago, on Halloween in 2022 …
He stood in a black leather boiler suit, military boots, his plastic white mask featuring a sinister smile, sharp yellow teeth and bright red fuzzy hair …
His hands dangled by his side as Justin felt his throat tighten.
“Good work, pretty boy …” The Clown giggled, taking a few steps into the hotel room as he walked towards Justin, “... He was right, you are made for this …”
Justin pressed his back into the armchair as he felt the tallness of The Clown overwhelm him, his broad physique now standing beside the seat Justin felt squashed into.
“You, you got your Mendes video, now le, let us go,” Justin wished he could sound confident when delivering such an order, but The Clown instilled a fear in him he hadn’t been comfortable with since his kidnapping in October.
The Clown kneeled down and curled his leather gloved hand around Justin’s right ankle.
He then stood, keeping Justin’s leg in his grasp.
Justin’s heart pounded in his chest.
The Clown pressed his plastic face against the sole of Justin’s socked foot, breathing in its scent, the moist fragrance contained beneath the white cotton.
Justin’s toes curled as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Now …” The Clown’s voice sounded grainy and dry as he spoke into Justin’s sole, “... It’s time for the big showdown … The event audiences have paid millions for …”
Justin arched his back as The Clown dragged a leather finger down the bottom of his foot, from toe to heel …
“ … Something we will make sure you never forget …”
A few hours later, in an undisclosed location …
Shawn woke up to blinding spot lights and the feeling of a dry, worn mattress beneath his head.
A ringing sound pierced his ears as his vision blurred into focus.
Gradually, the echo of cheers and applause began to increase in volume.
Shawn looked from side to side.
He saw smartly dressed people in tuxedos and ball gowns gathered in crowds surrounding him, some wearing masks, some not …
The room felt dimly lit … He could smell champagne, sweat and the scent of his own body odour wafting out from his own underarms.
He lay on his back, on a pink mattress, both of his feet resting over the surface of a wooden bench, his ankles strapped to Justin’s, who lay in the same position on the other side of the bench.
Shawn could see him through the benches legs.
Their hands were untied, their ankles connected together by leather restraints; Shawn’s left to Justin’s right, Justin’s left to Shawn’s right …
… Their view simply being each other's baby oil soaked bare soles staring back at them as they lay waiting for instruction.
“What the fuck is going on?” Shawn hissed, his eyes narrowing through the gaps of the bench as he scowled at Justin, “You fucking drugged me you mother f–” his face boiled red, his eyes expanded with rage, “--I tried to fucking help you …!”
“—Silence!”
A demanding voice bellowed out into the surrounding standing audience as Justin looked at Shawn with a sorry look.
Shawn huffed, resting his head back over the surface of the floor they lay on.
The Clown stepped into the empty space surrounding Shawn and Justin, the circle of crowd hushing each other quiet as a spotlight landed on him, lighting his milky masked face and red hair up so much that they practically glowed.
Pinned to the left of The Clown’s chest was a toy fish.
The Clown tilted his head, his menacing glare fixed on Shawn as he pinched the fish twice, a squeaking noise popping out of its mouth.
Squeak, squeak!
Shawn swallowed down hard as heart shaped bubbles blew out of the fish's mouth, floating out into the dark expanse of room quietly as the audience watched on.
The Clown had pinned the fish to his chest simply to inform Shawn that the entire reason he was here, was because of that fish pedicure video …
Justin lay staring at the ceiling, squinting past the spotlight as one of the bubbles hovered around his right big toe where it landed softly, bursting on impact.
“Two of the world's most famous men …” The Clown growled, “... Two of the music industry’s biggest pop stars … Tied here, bare foot and helpless …” he turned to the audience, bowing his head in thanks, “... All for your entertainment …”
Shawn began to raise his voice.
“No, screw this, let me go, this isn’t cool, damnit I’m gonna sue the lot of you, you mother–”
Shawn grunted and moaned as he reached towards his ankles in an attempt to tear off the restraints attaching him to Justin.
His fingers accidentally scraped across Justin’s left sole, causing Justin to scrunch his toes up automatically and reach forwards himself, where he snatched hold of Shawn’s hands and squeezed them with all of his strength.
“Shut your mouth, Mendes!” He hissed, “The faster you go along with what they want, the quicker it’ll be over,” he narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth, glaring at Shawn between the panels of the bench, “... Believe me …”
Shawn let go of Justin and laid back down, his face drenched in defeat, his entire mindset struggling with the concept of being so out of control.
“... Handsome, cocky, self assured Mr. Bieber here has spent the best part of this morning testing the ticklishness of Shawn’s feet …” The Clown pointed down at Justin, “... We’ve been hard on the poor boy since Halloween last year, we thought best to give him the advantage …”
Some of the audience members chuckled, with some at the front clapping gently.
“Does he have any weaknesses, Justin …?”
Justin tucked his hands behind his head as he stared up into the spotlight riddled ceiling.
“Ho yeah,” Justin answered confidently, “Anywhere between the tips of his toes to the ends of his heels … But his left foot is the worst …”
The Clown began to approach Shawn’s side of the bench.
“You mean this left foot…?”
Shawn tried to smack The Clown away as The Clown reached towards Shawn’s left foot and dragged his index finger down his sole.
Shawn’s foot twisted and writhed over the bench, his heel scraping against the wood, his aggressive pull causing Justin's attached ankle to be yanked across the bench's surface.
“Get the hell offa me!” Shawn protested.
The Clown stepped away.
“This will be interesting …” he stroked his plastic chin, “... Bieber knows Mendes’ weakness, but Mendes is fuelled with anger …” The Clown looked at the audience, “... You can practically feel it vibrating off of his silky smooth, golden skin, can’t you?”
The audience nodded, some cheers and applause sounding from individuals in the champagne sipping crowd.
From the depths of people, a further two Clowns stepped out into the circle, their boiler suit clad bodies lit by additional spotlights.
Shawn began to panic at the potential threat of three of these weirdo’s tickling him at once …
From behind their backs they produced a hairbrush each.
One Clown began to walk towards Justin, whilst the other walked towards Shawn.
They both handed each pop star a hairbrush, stepping slowly back into the crowd seconds after.
“The game is simple,” The remaining Clown announced, “You will use the hairbrushes to tickle each other's feet … You both have a safe word. The safe word is ‘Mercy’ …”
Justin rolled his eyes, frustrated that they had not chosen a song title of his own …
“... The first person to say the safe word loses the game,” The Clown glared down at Justin and Shawn, “The person who doesn’t say the safe word gets to go home, where their connection to us as a ticklee will be removed forever.”
Justin twisted his head, his puppy dog eyes burning through The Clown’s plastic mask.
“… Freedom?” He whispered.
The Clown nodded just once.
“Freedom.”
Justin turned towards Shawn with a face painted in dire determination.
He’d do anything to not be stalked by The Clown, to not be manhandled, ball gagged, tied and tickled, forced into non consensual bondage …
He’d throw his friend under the bus if it meant no single person, ever again, stroked, touched or played with his feet or underarms.
Justin felt excitement fill his stomach.
Freedom, he thought.
He knew he’d win this …
He had a side to him that Shawn didn’t possess.
Justin was kind, caring, a loving boyfriend, a passionate artist …
But he used to be mean, arrogant, controlling and above all else …
Reckless.
He began to store those qualities in the forefront of his mind as The Clown stepped back, into the depths of the crowd.
Shawn felt beyond nervous.
He had never dealt with anything like this before.
He had never been restrained and tickled, in public, surrounded by strangers.
He wasn’t as ‘used’ to this, as Justin was.
He was gentle, cautious, considered and unknowing …
But he couldn’t allow himself to be forced into Justin’s position.
To become The Clowns new favourite ticklee.
No damn way, Shawn thought.
He couldn’t allow himself to be hunted, hooded, hustled into the back of a car …
Stripped and tickled whenever The Clowns or other people in this giant room required it …
Shawn curled his hand around the handle of the brush.
“Are you ready?”
Justin tightened his grip on his brush also, his eyes unblinking, his bushy eyebrows burrowed into a deep frown.
“Three …”
Shawn scrunched up his toes.
“Two …”
Justin ignored the trickle of sweat rolling down his side.
“One …”
Shawn bit his lower lip …
“Go!”
Justin got to Shawn first, reaching forwards to throw the hairbrush down over his left sole where he began to action a ferocious, repetitive rub from left to right.
Shawn threw his head back, howling into the humid, spotlight lit atmosphere as the most ticklish area of his body was hit with relentless passion.
He had to remind himself to fight through the sensory explosion, despite Justin’s ruthless attempt to run the hairbrush over the arch of his left foot with an aggression Shawn had not seen in the twenty nine year old before …
Shawn reached forward, not knowing where on Justin’s feet he might be the most ticklish, instead thinking of his own weakness as a way of discovering how to break Justin.
If my left is my worst, maybe his is too!
Shawn scraped the hairbrush over the sole of Justin’s left foot, causing the pop sensation to flex his toes and twist his foot away, but the straps connecting him to Shawn’s ankles kept the foot in place.
As Shawn yelled at Justin’s attacks, Justin began to shout at Shawn’s, both young men kicking their legs, pulling at each other's feet over the bench as the hairbrushes continued to rub and slide over each other's left foot.
The crowd began to cheer and applaud, the spotlights flickering over masked faces as The Clown continued to pinch the fish toy pinned to his chest, sending more heart shaped bubbles out into the mini arena.
Justin used his free hand to reach forward and run his fingernails over Shawn’s right sole, whilst scraping the hairbrush over his left.
Shawn threw his head back again, knocked off course by how quick Justin was in his movements and methods, his laughter so loud and that it overshadowed Justin’s breathless giggling.
Shawn threw himself forward with all of his might, using his free hand also to tickle Justin’s other foot.
Justin grinned with manic will power, all ten of his toes scrunching up in reaction to Shawn’s attacks, his abs burning from the hysteria leaving his body, but also from the amount of times he had to reach forwards to get to Shawn’s feet.
Suddenly, a smartly dressed masked member of the audience stepped into the circular space of marble floor.
He began to head towards Justin, keen to help out Shawn, favouring the brunette over the blonde for whatever personal reason they had.
“No, no, please, man, come on, bro!” Justin cried.
He shifted his eyes from left to right in alarm as he became outnumbered, Shawn cackling in delight over the other side of the bench as he continued to destroy Justin’s sole with his hairbrush.
The Masked Tickler knelt by the bench and began to tickle Justin’s other foot with his hand, his fingernails sharp and skilled, practised and trained in this high quality of tickling.
In his terror, Justin dropped his hairbrush.
It fell away from Shawn’s foot, where Shawn nudged it off of the bench with his heel.
Justin fell into hyperventilated hysterics as both of his feet were tickled by two people at the same time, his arms and hands thrashing about in the air as he kicked and squirmed on the spot, his heels sliding across the surface of the bench.
Shawn’s legs and feet were dragged and yanked along with Justin’s as he writhed and howled over the torn pink mattress.
“Take that, Justin!” Shawn yelled, his face glimmering with glee, “Take that, you little rat!”
Shawn surprised himself with how nasty he sounded.
His moment of self awareness fell away as soon as The Masked Tickler left Justin’s foot and began to tickle both of Shawn’s.
“No! No! DAMN, please, please, please, no, go back to him, go back to him–”
Shawn fell into hysterics as the tables were turned, his laughter deep and strained, his head thrashing from side to side as he struggled to catch his breath.
Justin grinned, his hands patting around the beneath of the bench in an attempt to relocate his hairbrush.
Once he had found it, he curled his fingers around the handle and went back to attacking Shawn’s left sole, sending the twenty four year old into delirious sensory overload, as The Masked Tickler continued to help Justin out.
Out from the crowd stepped The Clown.
Justin felt his presence almost immediately, a large lump landing in his throat as soon as he saw The Clown began to approach him.
The Clown snatched the hairbrush away from Justin and threw it out into the audience.
“No! What! Wait! Come on, please, man, no, this isn’t fair, you can’t do this–” Justin whimpered.
Shawn’s feet twisted under The Masked Tickler’s touch as he continued to run his hairbrush over the soles of Justin’s feet, jumping from left to right just as Justin had done to him earlier.
“This is what you get!” Shawn yelled, “This is what you get!”
The Masked Tickler left Shawn’s soles and began to tickle both of Justin’s at the same time, whilst Shawn continue to work the hairbrush.
The Clown knelt down behind Justin, grabbing his wrists and yanking them above his head.
“The toes,” The Clown scowled at Shawn, “His toes are the worst …”
Shawn nodded quickly.
The Clown then sat down over Justin’s arms, trapping them beneath his weight.
“FUCK–” Justin shouted loud, his face distressed, red with fury, saturated in defeat, “--YOU CAN’T DO THIS, NO, DAMN THIS, HOLY SHIT–”
With his armpits now fully exposed, The Clown could have his way with them.
All at once, The Clown tickled Justin’s underarms whilst Shawn ran the hairbrush over his toes, The Masked Tickler actioning an aggressive fingernail tickle over both of Justin’s feet at the same time.
The crowd applauded, whooped, cheered and clapped …
The spotlights flickered, the heart shaped bubbles popped …
Justin fell into a realm of breathless hysteria, his head bouncing across the mattress so much that his beanie had fallen off.
His blonde chunks of hair became soaked with sweat as he squeezed his eyes shut and giggled hard, non stop, into his chest, his nostrils flaring, his lips swelling, his grin tight and pained.
He kicked his legs repeatedly, every pull yanking Shawn’s feet across the surface of the bench harder and faster.
Shawn watched Justin break, and he allowed it to happen …
He didn’t step in and save him …
He didn’t try and negotiate …
He just ran that hairbrush from side to side, so hard and fast that his arms began to ache.
Justin started to shape out the letter ‘M’, his lips moving into position.
“ … Mer …”
He could barely breathe, barely see, barely speak …
He wanted freedom so badly …
But he also wanted the tickle torture to end …
“ … Mer … “
Almost, Shawn thought …
Suddenly, the attacks stopped.
The Clown stepped up and away from Justin as The Masked Tickler’s fingernails left his soles.
Justin lay panting, his eyes wide open, his arms wrapping around his chest in an attempt to hide his pits.
The Clown and The Masked Tickler then began to approach Shawn …
“What …” Shawn sat up, his lower lip quivering, “... No, seriously? You, you can’t …”
The Clown tore the hairbrush away from Shawn and handed it to Justin.
Justin, shocked by the change of events, took the hairbrush and grinned at his sudden regain of power.
Shawn tried to unstrap his ankle restraints in a panic, but The Clown grabbed both of his hands and yanked them above his head, just like he had done to Justin.
He then sat over Shawn’s arms as Justin threw the hairbrush over Shawn’s left sole, The Masked Tickler sending his fingernails over Shawn’s right foot …
Shawn arched his back and erupted into a frenzy of demanding shouts and yells, his entire body shimmering with sweat as The Clown began to wiggle his fingers over the shiny structure of Shawn’s toned upper body.
“No, please, please, please, just a second, just a minute, just a damn minute, oh my god–”
The Clown threw his fingers down to Shawn’s underarms and sides, their force tickling his ribs and armpits in a way Shawn had never been touched in his twenty four years of living.
“The fish pedicure doesn’t seem so bad compared to this, does it pretty boy?” The Clown teased, his plastic face staring down at Shawn.
Shawn nodded frantically, dribble forming at the corners of his mouth, his voice leaving his lips in a strained splutter.
“YES, YES, YES, YES–” He cried.
Justin was incredibly ticklish.
But Shawn’s level of sensitivity was what these people referred to as ‘lightning in a bottle’.
And within just two minutes of Shawn being in his current situation, the word –
“--MERCCYYYYYYYY… !” came out of Shawn’s mouth in a ferocious scream, far later than The Clown, The Masked Tickler and the members of the surrounding crowd had expected.
“MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!” He repeated.
Justin clenched his fists and threw them into the air, a hissed, “COME ON!” leaving his mouth in celebration.
Shawn huffed and panted as The Clown got to his feet, allowing the young man to pull his arms back down by his sides.
The Masked Tickler stood also, taking the hairbrush back from Justin as he returned into the depths of the crowd.
The Clown applauded both pop stars as the audience clapped and cheered.
Shawn lay breathless and destroyed, a loser in a game he’d never forget, a game he had been unwillingly forced into by someone he thought was his friend.
The Clown stepped towards the bench and unstrapped Justin’s ankles only.
Justin pulled his feet towards himself and stumbled into a standing position, dressed only in underwear, his tattooed body soaked in perspiration.
“That’s, that’s it? I, I’m free? I can go?” Justin ran his hands through his hair in disbelief, “You’ll never come for me again?”
The Clown pointed towards the crowd, who parted down the middle, revealing an open door that led to the exit of the building they currently resided in.
He remained silent.
Justin turned away from the event and ran through the crowd, his bare feet patting against the marble as he burst through the open door and disappeared out into nothing but bright, white light.
The door slammed shut.
The crowds regathered.
And much to Shawn’s sweat soaked, tied up dismay, everyone wielded a tickle tool of their own and turned their attention solely onto him …
Click here to be directed to the end credits scene …
‘CLOWN’ CONTINUES IN CHAPTER FIVE, ‘THE NOISE’