His shock caught in his throat, his eyes widened, his head jerked forward, trying to make sense of it.

No.

No, no, no, this was supposed to be over.

He’d played along, he’d said the words, he’d called them the names, he’d obeyed.

Dan stepped back from the wall, brushing dust from his knees.

“I’ll get the bag,” he said simply.

Tanner’s panic spiked.

His voice broke free before he could stop it, “Bag? Bag, what are you—”

Dan didn’t respond, he disappeared through the rusty door, clanking it shut, leaving Tanner alone with Owen.

A beat of silence passed them by.

Tanner’s voice spilled out in a desperate bluntness, no more pretending.

“I told you, man, I’ll pay, pay you anything …” strings of oozy cum dangled from each heel as he tried to bargain, “… Name the number, just let me out! …”

Owen didn’t reply.

He simply sat back, his eyes flicked lazily over Tanner’s bare, cum soaked soles, as if studying them again from scratch.

Tanner kept rambling, “We can make a, a deal. Let me out and, and I’ll give you wha, whatever you want!—”

Owen smiled quietly, allowing Tanner to feel the alarm, to acknowledge that this was only the halfway point.

Tanner huffed as the chamber filled with silence, and then, he said rather pathetically …

“… Can you at least wipe the damn jizz off my feet?”

Owen’s smile twisted into pursed lips as he got back down on his knees and leaned in, studying Tanner’s cum covered feet as if he’d never seen such a glorious sight before, and quite frankly, he hadn’t.

His gaze flicked from the curled, clenching toes to the smooth curve of each arch, to the softness at both heels, all areas shining with the remnants of orgasm.

Owen then glanced up at Tanner and simply said, “… Let’s see how sensitive they really are …”

Tanner gawped in horror as the rusty door reopened.

Dan stepped back into the chamber, duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder.

“But …” Tanner whimpered, “… I did everything you asked me to do, I, I let you …” he had to pause before realising he was going to say it, “… Fucking jizz on me!—”

Owen stood slowly as Dan dropped the bag with a thud against the floor and knelt, flipping it open with the lazy confidence of someone who had done this many times before.

“He’s clearly used to getting his own way all the time,” Owen smirked, “Poor Hollywood star can’t work it out.”

Tanner’s body pulled at the restraints with raw instinct, the muscles in his thighs firing, heels flexing weakly against the glory holes, “—No, no, fuck this, fuck this,” he didn’t even know what he was trying to do, just to move, to disappear, only his head and feet wriggling from Owen and Dans viewpoint, “Mmnn, mnn, you’re both damn SICK!—”

—Dan reached inside and pulled out a length of white string.

Tanner’s eyebrows creased, his aggression silenced, as he watched both men approach him, returning to a kneel beside each other, inches opposite his cum covered feet.

“Wha—,” Tanner said quietly, “—What’s that f—”

—Dan took Tanner’s right foot in hand, surprisingly gentle.

Tanner clenched his teeth, his head flexing forward, “Freak!—”

Dan looped the string around Tanner’s right big toe, once, twice, pulling it snug, shifting over to the left foot.

Tanner’s breath was fast now, his feet squirming in place, he had no words, no idea, no choice, only to watch them both, to wait till they explained why the fuck they were tying his big toes together, something Owen did immediately, as if reading Tanner’s mind …

“For someone with feet as sensitive as yours …” he murmured, “… We’ll need them still.”

Tanner rattled to hard within the wall that the plaster began to shake, “… What! What now! Stop, you dicks!—”

Dan looped the string around the left big toe, once, twice, just like he had done to his right …

And then, he pulled.

The tension drew Tanner’s big toes together, toe-to-toe, until the skin touched and the string bit gently into the delicate space between.

Tanner growled as he narrowed his eyes at the sight - the sensation was horrible, awkward, beyond exposing, the cum now settling into his feet and causing them to feel cold, moist, damp, almost too vulnerable.

“I love the name calling,” Owen nudged Dan, “We’ve pissed him off,” he said, winningly.

Tanner tried to move his feet apart instinctively, just to flex, to attempt escape, but the string held snug, “Please, come on, this isn’t, isn’t normal, just take my damn money for god’s sake!—”, Dan tied the knot and pulled once, tight - Tanner let out a soft, shuddering noise in the back of his throat, “—Guuh!—”, the humiliation, the helplessness, it was radiating out of him in waves.

Owen turned to Dan, “We’ve kissed them, licked them, sucked them and spanked them … Now, let’s tickle the fuck out of these feet …” he said, as they both aimed their focus on a foot each, just like before: Owen to the left, Dan to the right.

Tanner’s soles tried to twist, but the tightness of the string around each big toe only allowed them to flex together, “Fuck you! Don’t!—” he hissed.

Owen was the first to move, two fingers stroking across the left ball of Tanner’s left foot, slow, soft, like brushing crumbs off velvet - Dan followed on the right, tracing the pad of his index finger from heel to arch, barely grazing …

Tanner’s feet jerked forwards and then back, his heels bulged, the string between his big toes tightened, resisting the instinct to pull them apart, “—Ssst, stop it! N-NO! Stop it!—”

Dan’s fingernails were the perfect size, just short, clean, and precise, dragged in light, feathery paths from the centre of Tanner’s arch toward the outer edge of the foot, again and again, “—Aw, does that tickle, Tanner? Ticklish Tanner, that’s what we’ll call you! …”

Tanner’s feet reacted before his mind could; tiny involuntary spasms, goosebumps over the tops of his feet, toes either curling or spreading, big toes snug together, “—STOP! I, I ha, HATE this! NO, NO!—”

Owen mirrored him, his touch fluttering just beneath the toes now, slipping along the bases, making Tanner’s cum soaked digits wiggle against their will, “Tough! What you gonna do about it, brown eyes?”

And then the first noise came, a giggle, sharp and helpless, just one - it startled Tanner more than them - he gasped, furious, ashamed, “You bah, bastards! You, you d, damn assholes! I can’t!—”

Owen applied slightly more pressure now, his fingernails circling the pads of the toes like he was polishing them - Dan pressed both thumbs into the arch at once, rubbing lightly, then scratching, rhythmic, slow.

Tanner squeezed his eyes shut, body jolting as a fresh wave of sensation rolled through him - it was everywhere, not just on the feet - it was in his chest, his stomach, his throat, the nerves didn’t stay put, they traveled, dizzying, breathless - it was like being tickled from the inside out - short, high, panicked giggles burst between gritted teeth, his cheeks were red, he was utterly humiliated, “—No, no, come, come on, come ON, come, comeon, really, ss,stopit, this isn’t, isn’t FAIR—” he whined.

Owen whispered, “That’s it, Tickling Tanner,” he taunted, “Don’t fight it …”

Dan scratched the depths of the right arch, as if clawing inside of Tanner’s sole, the cum now smearing into his flesh.

Tanner’s giggles were now out of control, his big toes writhed against the string, trying to escape in different directions, the tension between them burned slightly, cum-slick skin against cum-slick skin, trapped, open for the taking …

“—Sss, stop, stop, please! Oh, no, please, you fucks, please, no, fucking stop!—”

Dan leaned in, dragging a single nail across the side of the heel, up and down, up and down, “Such pretty, perfect feet, all soaked in cum and all ours to play with …”

Tanner shook his head, too overwhelmed to answer, he couldn’t stop it, his ‘pretty feet’ were dancing in place, spasming under each touch; the arches, too soft, too responsive, were glistening, soaking up the cum and the impact from the fingernails - his toes kept trying to pull away from each other, from the fingers, from the attention, but the string bit deeper, holding them together firmly - and still, all the giggles kept coming …

He begged through them, “—Please, please, please, please, juss, ssst stop! Sss, stop for a, NO, NO, I, I can’t, I, I can’t—”

They both ignored them, they both began to get carried away, Tanner’s level of ticklishness was too fun to not take seriously.

Dan cradled Tanner’s right foot and began to chew on his right big toe, as he scribbled at the ball, which was now coated in a mixture of sweat, “—Don’t forget to call me Sir, little pig …”

“—Wha, WHAT are you DO, DOING!—” Tanner’s felt his brain tighten, his pulse quicken, his throat dry up, “—ow, OW! Th, that hurts! You asshole!—”

Dan’s mouth was hot, his tongue swirling around the tip of the big toe, wetting the already slick skin, his teeth sealing tight and nipping, nipping, nipping, causing Tanner to yelp like a monkey, “—Stop, stop that, Sir! SIR, I’m begging you, asshole!—”

Dan didn’t stop, he moaned, teeth dragging along the big toe, tongue slipping between it and the next like he was devouring fruit, he licked with perverse obsession, then bit, gently, but firm enough to make Tanner squeal, high and desperate, “—OW! NO, STOP! Bastard! Owowowow!—”

“—And don’t forget to call me Master …” Owen sneered, his other hand rummaging inside the bag, “… Or it’s another slap across these pretty cum covered soles of yours …” he pulled out a black plastic hairbrush and pressed it against Tanner’s right sole and then dragged down, hard.

A guttural, ripped-open laugh tore from Tanner’s lungs, as the stiff bristles scraped across his arch in long, torturous rows - it was too much - the cum made the plastic glide, dragging pressure against every hypersensitive nerve ending as Tanner erupted uncontrollably into the ceiling, his mouth wide open, his jaw stretched and unable to close, his face vibrating purple …

“—OH, WHA, mnn, WHAT! AhaaAHAHAahahahaFUCK!-Aahaha-damn, DAY-UM, ahahahahahAHAHAHaAHAHAa—”, heaveheaveheave, “—WahahaahatheFUCK-ahahhaaaahaha-motherFUCKER-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!—”, heaveheaveheave … “—SToaahahAHAHhahahHAAHAahaNOT-thatPUTthatawaaay!—”

Between each explosive, 5-10 second avalanche of shouting and laughter came a heave, heave, heave as he tried to suck in air …

Dan pulled his mouth away for just a moment, “Whoa, that response is insane,” he whispered, “So hot!” He licked the sole again, from arch to toe, “These feet are so fucking ticklish, Tanner …”

“—NO, NOO, uhh! LetmebREATHE-ahahAHAHahahaahahahAHAHAHahahahaAHAHAHA!—”, heaveheaveheave, “—FF, ff, FFUCKahahaahah-AHhahahAHAHAHAGOD!-ahahahAHhahahahah!—”, heaveheaveheave …

Owen pressed harder, the brush scrubbed, over and over, digging into the ball of Tanner’s foot, across the heel, then up into the centre where his arch jumped with every pass - it had broken him within seconds …

“You sound like a lunatic, Tanner, can’t take the brush, can you?” Owen teased.

Tanner’s laughter was no longer cute, no longer restrained, it was manic, breathless, violent, borderline concerning - his chest convulsed with it, his face twisted, drool slipped from the corner of his mouth, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think, and it burned his lungs more than anything he had ever felt …

“—AhaaAHAHAahahahaFUCK!-Aahaha-bloody, DAMN, letmebreathe-LETMEbr,breathe!-ahahahahahAHAHAHaAHAHAa—”, heaveheaveheave, “—You, you damn SHIT-HEAD!—”, heaveheaveheave

“Lord, we gotta keep going …” Dan explained, “… He’ll never experience anything like this again …”

“—FUHUHUHuhuhahahauhahahahaha-FUCKyou’renoahahahahanotsupposedtoENJOYthis!-ahahahFUUUCK!—”

Dan reached into the bag, disappearing from view, Owen, meanwhile, never stopped - he was still scrubbing the soles of Tanner’s feet with the hairbrush, carving bristle after bristle into soft, overstimulated flesh - the remains of cum made the strokes slide, gliding, catching just enough to bite …

“Oh but we are enjoying this Tanner, sounds like you are too, huh?” Owen grinned.

Tanner’s muffled cries rose into guttural sobs, “—WHY! Why would you do this to me!—” his face had switched from pink to purple to a furious red, his extreme level of ticklishness humming through every pour, “—WHY, pleasepleaseWHYoh,ahhahhaha,hahahaaaanooo, whhywhhhy!—”, his feet spasmed in place, his arches flexed wildly, his toes tried to curl, but the string yanked them back together, keeping him still, vulnerable, totally exposed.

Dan stood - in his hand now: an electric toothbrush, “We’re doing this because we’re obsessed with your feet, Tanner! It’s not our fault they’re so ticklish …”

He thumbed the button - btzzzzzzzzzzzz! - Tanner shrieked so hard he began to foam at the mouth.

“—GET that f, FF, fucking THING away from me!—”, it came out warped, raw, wet, once contained, “—NOAAAH, sss, serious! SERIOUS-AAAAAH, noaahahahahahaahahanoaaaahahaaa!—”, his whole body jolted, head snapping forward in panic as Dan leaned in and pressed the buzzing head against the tops of Tanner’s feet, not the soles, not the arches, but the tops - those overlooked, unprotected places just above the tendons, where skin is thin, nerves are reactive, and no one ever dares touch, “—AAAAH! AAAH! AAHHAA! AAAH!—” he began to welp, tears rolling down his cheeks, “—WEHH, WEH, WEEH!—”, he convulsed in the wall, a tidal wave of muffled hysterics exploding from his wide, wet, open mouth, “—No, NOAAHH! Noaaahh! NOAAAH! AAAH! Hahahahahahaha-how, how DARE YOU!—”, he thrashed as much as he could in his prison, but the toe‑tie stayed loyal, locking his feet open, keeping the tops fully exposed for Dan’s ruthless assault, “—PLEH, PLEASE, AAAGH! AHAAAA! AGAHAAA! Sss, ssttAAH! AAAH! AAAAH! HOW, dare, DARE YOU!—”

“Shall we see if those model good looks are as ticklish as those gorgeous feet, Tanner?” Dan taunted.

Suddenly, Dan lifted the electric toothbrush up and away from the tops of Tanner’s feet, landing it on the left side of his jawbone - Tanner’s head twisted away, “—N, nn, NOT, NOT MY FF, FACE!—”, but Dan the young man by his chin, holding his head still, “—NO, what are, you DO, doi—my, my FACE, not my, my face!—”, the toothbrush moved in tight circles, buzzing against the edge of his face, then under the jaw, where the nerves were softer, more sensitive.

Owen scrubbed at Tanner’s heels, then his toes, then just his big toes, “Such sexy, juicy, edible toes …” his wet, soft soles constantly writhing under the plastic nibs …

Dan moved the brush higher to Tanner’s right cheek, buzzing across the flushed, perspiration-wet flesh, tracing along the orbital bone, just below the eye socket, “—NO, NO! NOOOOOOAHAA! AAHHAA! AHAHAHAH! OOWW, AHH!—”, Tanner winced, tried to twist his head again, but Dan held him with one hand, firm, calm, possessive …

“Stay still, you little shit,” Dan snarled, “Let me tickle that pretty face …”

The toothbrush moved again, buzzing now across the bridge of the nose, “—pleasePLEASEno!—”, heave, heave, heave - his face crumpled, the whizzing tip travelled over tears as they trailed across both cheeks, jumped up to Tanner’s eyebrows, and then circled the forehead, all whilst Tanner’s soles were scrubbed by Owen’s hairbrush, his feet constantly thrashing within the toe tie, “—You’reFUCKINGmeOFFthiscan’tBEhappening!—”, heave, heave, heave …

“Oh but it is happening,” Owen sneered, “Didn’t expect this, did you, Tanner?”

The sensation was unbearable, invasive, so unexpected, like being erased from the face outward - his now red skin pulsed, his jaw clenched, his laughter was filled with heaves for air, muttered moans, cursing and shouts, it was free and relentless …

… Until Dan bought the electric toothbrush to Tanner’s mouth.

“—NO, WHA, —mmmphh—GEToff, getOFF! MNNPH GAAMPHH—”

He traced the buzzing head around the edges of Tanner’s lips, upper lip, lower lip, the corners - Tanner’s face spun on fast forward, as every nerve around his mouth screamed - it tickled in a way that wasn’t even physical anymore, in a way he didn’t think possible, it vibrated through his mind, within the depths of his brain - he could no longer laugh, just rattle from behind the wall and squeeze his eyes shut, not knowing whether to beg or scream or just sob uncontrollably …

“Let’s get in there, shall we?” Dan used his free hand to open Tanner’s mouth, where he then slid the electric toothbrush inside …

Tanner choked on a breath, eyes going wider than ever, as the buzzing head slipped over his tongue …

“—GAH! GAH! GAH! GAMnnpPhhhhahaaahahahaaaagh GAH AAAHAHAHA Gaaahahahaha! GAH GAH! GAHamnnphh!—”

The sound of it inside his mouth was horrific, loud, intimate, unavoidable - the vibration shook through his teeth, into his jaw, down his throat, “—GahahhaahahaUHAHAAAAHAAA-uhhahaaaaahahahAHAHAHA-Gahahaaack!—”, heave, heave - his tongue danced wildly, trying to escape, but Dan followed it, the toothbrush moving with slow, relentless pressure, over the palate, under the tongue, against the inside of the cheek, - heave, heave …

Dan was grinning now, eyes locked on him as Tanner drooled around the electric toothbrush, choking on air, giggling and cackling and heaving and wheezing involuntarily, the helpless kind that came from deep in the chest - his entire face was vibrating, his lips trembling, his head twitching, tears streaming from his eyes …

heave

“—ICAN’Tbre,brea!—”

heave …

“—PLE, pleaseIcan’t—”

heave!

“—STOMPPHH!—”

Owen slid the hairbrush away from Tanner’s soles as Dan removed the electric toothbrush from his mouth.

Tanner’s shriek for breath, his wall-hitting moment, it would only lead to him passing out and therefore becoming an unresponsive toy, and both Dan and Owen knew there would be no fun in that.

So they stepped back and allowed Tanner a moment to catch his breath.

The toothbrush clicked off - bbbbtzzzzz, click!

Dan dropped it beside the bag without a fuss, the sound hollow and final - Owen kept his hairbrush in his grasp but folded his arms, waiting, chest rising slowly.

Tanner sagged inside the wall like flesh poured into it - his shoulders slumped, his head hung low - his lips were pink, puffy, parted, slick with dribble - the buzzing still lingered inside his mouth, humming against his teeth and tongue and gums.

heave, heave, heave …

His cheeks were damp from tears and heat, his forehead throbbed, his eyes were glassy, bloodshot, unable to focus, they flickered weakly across the empty chamber like they were looking for a way out.

heave, heave, heave …

He couldn’t get air deep into his lungs, each breath scraped like broken glass - he could feel the sweat cooling across his chest, his ribs ached from laughing, not just normal laughter; forced, manic, ripped out of him by the strange men that had kidnapped him.

His feet twitched weakly, but couldn’t move far - the string held successfully, his big toes still tied tightly together, the arches stretched, the soles slightly pink, slick with the remains of cum and exhaustion.

His thighs felt wet, but was that sweat?

Please, God, let it be sweat.

He spoke.

“I… I… I didn’t know I was that ticklish …”

His voice was hoarse, fragile and honest - he hadn’t meant to say it, it had just fallen out of him - his mind was frayed, he stared forward blankly, whatever was left of his mind trying to understand what he had just felt and said.

Owen stepped forward and crouched back down, resting one hand lightly on the top of Tanner’s left foot, “So now you know,” he said softly, “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Tanner rolled his eyes away and licked sweat from the top of his lips, tears clinging to his jaw, “Yeah,” he replied flatly, “It’s f, fucking great …”

“Heh. You don’t have to worry,” Dan explained gently, “Because we’re done tickling you.”

Tanner blinked, confused, relieved but still cautious.

Owen smiled, small, dark, sinister, “… For now,” he purred.

Dan reached into the bag and picked out something metal, something thin, something sharp …

A pinwheel.

“Do you know what this is?” Owen whispered, holding up the pinwheel - the steel gleamed under the light; a perfect little circle of spikes, designed to tease flesh into madness.

Tanner tried to speak, but no sound came - his mouth opened, then closed, lips trembling, until he managed a pathetic:

“Don’t h, hurt me …”

Owen chuckled, “I don’t think you understand just how much we want to abuse your feet …”, he hovered the pinwheel over both of Tanner’s soles, letting Tanner feel the cold presence just a breath above each foot - then the wheel dropped, gently, right onto the high arch of Tanner’s left sole.

A sharp, involuntary jolt shot through his foot - toes splaying, arch flexing upward, heel twitching as far as the restraints would allow - the string holding his big toes together squeaked, he bit his lower lip …

“Ow …” he whined, “… No …”

Dan leaned in close to Tanner’s face, whispering in his right ear, “Take it, bitch …”

Tanner let out a whimper, part gasp, part suppressed moan, as Dan’s firm fingers caressed his jaw.

“Relax, Ticklish Tanner. You’ve not even begun to comprehend what these feet are capable of …”

Owen moved the pinwheel excruciatingly slowly, from the centre of Tanner’s left arch down to his heel - each spike kissed the skin with a teasing precision, each spike announced itself with every rotation - thousands of nerves flickering to life like sparks on petrol …

Tanner’s foot arched again, harder this time, trying to pull away, but the toe ties held them beautifully still, “—No, ow! Ow …”, it slipped out before he could catch it, soft and shameful, “… Ow! Don, don’t do this …”

Owen smiled, “He felt that.”

Dan nodded, “Oh, he’s about to feel some more …” he then reached into the bag and retrieved a leather spanking paddle.

Tanner rattled within the wall, his eyes shimmered and glistened as his cheeks boiled pink, “—No!—”

Owen lifted the pinwheel to the right foot now - it danced across the ball, then rolled up toward the toes - when it reached the base of each toe, Tanner’s right foot spasmed, toes spreading wide, heel twitching in tiny panicked jerks.

“—Please, please stop! Let me fucking go!—”

Dan patted the paddle against his palm and said calmly, “If you tell us how sensitive your feet are … We won’t be so nasty.”

Tanner shut his eyes, shook his head, “Sss, stop fucking me around!”

Dan swiftly spanked Tanner’s left sole with the paddle.

SMACK!

It hit the centre of his right sole, just as the pinwheel rolled across the left one, “—GUH!—”, the combination made Tanner’s face twist inwards, his expression contorting into something between agony and disgust, “—Grruuh!—”. the sensation was too much - the sting of leather, the tease of steel - they pulled in opposite directions but met in the middle of his sanity.

“And don’t forget to call him Master, and me Sir,” Dan reminded.

SMACK! Another spank to his left sole and the pinwheel rolled up the side of his left arch.

Tanner’s jaw widened as breath shuddered through his neck, “—Jee, Jeesus …” he hissed, “—OKAY!—”, his voice spilled out, desperate, broken, filthy, “My feet, fuck, they’re ridiculously sensitive, please, I can’t, I can’t do this anymore, Sir, Ma, Master …”

Owen hooked his finger under the string snug around both of Tanner’s big toes and whispered, “ … Beg us to tickle your feet.”

Tanner didn’t hold back, a fierce and rather loud, “—NO!—” launched itself past his lips.

Dan smiled, “We’ll stop, we promise …” he patted Tanner’s heels with the paddle.

“Just say it,” Owen added, his voice now rougher, more demanding, the pinwheel pressing against Tanner’s right arch, “Say you want it. Say you want us to tickle those famous little feet of yours and we’ll end this …”

Tanner snarled, voice certain, “—NO!—” his feet tugging apart, the toe tie tight.

The pinwheel rolled slowly, excruciatingly, up toward the base of his toes …

“Beg …” Owen growled.

Tanner watched the pinwheel with burning eyes, how much more could he endure, instead of being tickled?

SMACK!

The paddle cracked across the left sole - Tanner bucked, face scrunching, the wall containing his furious rattle.

“—FUCK!—” he screamed.

“—BEG!—” Dan barked.

SMACK!

The pinwheel danced back over Tanner’s right heel now, slow, serpentine, maddening.

Tanner was crying out between helpless, pained whines, “—BAH, BAHSTARDS!—”, he gasped, he twisted his feet away, he shouted but he couldn’t escape, “—fuh, fuhcking SH, shitheads!—”

SMACK!

The paddle struck both soles, dead centre, and Tanner’s entire body vibrated inside the wall - his toes were so tightly clenched his toe knuckles glowed white.

“—Beg us to tickle them!—” Owen demanded again.

Tanner burst into tears, “—STOP!—” he sobbed.

SMACK, SMACK!

“—BEG US!—” Dan shouted.

Tanner’s head collapsed forward, forehead damp with sweat, “—ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!—”

Dan crouched low, his lips whispering against Tanner’s left sole, “… Say it properly.”

Tanner’s spoke in a croak, he was now overly dominated by these strange men.

“… Please …” he sniffed, tears hanging off his jaw, “… Pl, please tickle my, my feet …”

…

Silence.

Nothing but silence.

Owen and Dan dropped the pinwheel and paddle back into the bag.

And then Owen pulled something new out.

A blindfold.

Tanner barely noticed until it was too late, “No—no, what are you—” he shook his head and craned it away, but Owen gently wrapped it around his face, clamping the satin over his eyes, “—Don’t!—”, where he finally tied it tightly at the back of Tanner’s neck.

Darkness.

Total panic.

Tanner’s breath came in sharp gasps, “—Nn, no,” he was trembling, moaning, trying to twist away, “—Pl, please …” his eyes blinked uselessly beneath the cloth.

Now he couldn’t see what was coming, he could only hear: fingers rummaging through the bag, clutter cluttering against clutter, zippers, the sound of something being uncapped, a lid unscrewed …

“—Please, please just let me go, I’m begging you, please, please god, stop this …”

His soles flexed involuntarily, his heels shifting an inch, but the glory hole held them together, the toe tie around his big toes refusing to slip from its knot.

And then a drip, cold, wet … Not cum, not the warmth of orgasm, something else that felt slick, all over his toes, soaking his soles, arriving at his heels …

“—No, what’s, what … Please! I’m sss, serious I’ll, I’ll do anything, anything …” he was so done, so exploited, so out of control and needing an end to this abuse …

‘Owen and Dan’ no longer spoke - that was the worst part - they just let him hear everything, feel everything …

Their hands arrived cruelly, two pairs at once, twenty fingers, massaging, scribbling …

Rubbing the oil in like it was lotion, but with purpose, targeting every sensitive inch of his now writhing soles, “—Fu, FUCK, st, stop, stop it, PLEASE!—”, fingers pressed into the arches, thumbs circled the heels, “—FU, HUCK! OH oh god, god, ss, stop, STOP,” the balls of his feet were stretched tight as fingers rolled under his toes, slipping between them, grinding that slick substance deep into every nerve, “—GAH!—”, he tried to scream, but it came out as a breathy, high-pitched moan, “—GUHAAAH!—”

The fingers lifted as soon as he felt breathless - he stared through darkness as his feet tingled, wet, soaked, shining and hot.

Both of Tanner’s soles were met at once, each with a separate brush, those dense, stiff bristles dragging through the oiled surface of his skin like someone raking lightning across glass …

The scream that left Tanner was feral, from the gut, an explosion of unbearable sensation, “—NOAAGHHH!—”, his feet convulsed, trying to pull apart, but the toe-tie held them perfectly still, the brushes grinding directly into the stretched, greased-up skin, “—NONONONO—PLEAHAHAHASE—PLEHEHEASE!—", heave, heave, heave …

They scrubbed over each arch, over each ball, circles over each heel, quick, flaunting flicks across the base of the toes, down the instep, up the centre, across the pads, every glide more devastating than the last.

“—AHHHHHHH, oh god, YOUU FF, ffucking SICK, bahahaha, hahahaHASTARDS, sss-SSSsss, STOHOHOP! I CAHAHAN’T—I CAN’T—I CAN’T DO this Ican’tdothis I’M GONNA FUCking kill KILL you! Kill you BOTH you, AHAHAAHAHA siccck, sick fuck heads!—” heave, heave, heave …

One of them was slow and methodical, the other fast and sadistic, transforming Tanner’s mindset into something beyond anything he had ever felt - mindless, utterly mindless - his face now soaked with sweat, his head twisting in pure hysteria, his lips, cheeks and throat pulsing purple, god he was ticklish, so, so ticklish and there was nothing he could do about it.

“—OHAAHAHAAA AAAAHAHAAAAA SSSTOAAAHAHAHAHAA OHH, OHH NOO, WHAAAAHAHAAAAAT PLE, PLEEE, PLEAAASE PLEEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAA COME ON, COME ON? COME ON! COME ON!—”, heave, heave, heave …

Every second was worse than the last, the uncontrollable laughter became so suffocating he could no longer beg, his voice had given out, it was just high pitched squeals now, shaking moans, spit trailing from his mouth as tears poured freely beneath the blindfold.

Dan chuckled, “I think we broke him.”

They both worked his heels at the same time, causing his laughter and screams to transcend into pure sobs of complete mania - his soles writhed in place, glistening, ruined, absurdly sensitive, trying to twist out of reach but never escaping - his hysteria was now silent, that terrifying, desperate kind of silent, where the body convulses but no sound comes out.

Owen leaned close to his ear and whispered:

"… You're not getting out until you say it. Say your feet were made to be tickled …”

The brushes now hit the worst spot, just under the toes, where the oil had collected in a little glistening pool - they raked across it again and again, slipping over the delicate nerve-endings, igniting every last inch.

Tanner shrieked, “—MADE FOR IT! MADE FOR IT! F-FUCK! MY FEET! WERE, MADE TO BE TICKLED! P-PLEASE—PLEEEEAASE! PLEEEEAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!—”, he sobbed mid-sentence, he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t care, “—GU,HUH! AHAHAHA, OH, UHAAHAAHAAA N, GUHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!—”

“Good boy,” Dan purred.

But they didn’t stop.

Not yet.

They went faster.

Over the arches.

Over the toes.

Back and forth and back again.

And Tanner?

He shattered.

Tears poured. Laughter twisted into dry, animal gasps. His feet were no longer feet - just bundles of raw nerves, exposed and dominated. His body gave out. His mind blurred into static as the hours rolled by …

And finally—

Finally—

The brushes slowed.

Then stopped.

Silence.

Tanner’s head slumped forward.

His feet jerked once … twice…

Then lay still.

The only sound was his broken, wet breathing - twitching, whispering, destroyed.

Dan reached for the blindfold and slowly removed it.

Tanner blinked through the blur.

Eyes glassy.

Mouth hanging open.

Owen crouched by his soles, brushing a final fingertip across the arch with reverence.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

Dan smiled.

“We’ll let him rest.”

“For now.”

Dan and Owen picked up the ball gag and shoved it back into Tanner’s mouth.

“—MMNNPHH!—”

Then they headed towards the rusty door, leaving Tanner inside the wall, his bare soles flexing and his ten toes curling.

“See you in the morning, Ticklish Tanner …”

The door slammed shut, leaving Tanner gagged, tickled to tears and only able to wait for their return …