Ryan, the Ticklish Entertainment (FFFFF/M) (Patreon)

NSFW, 18+

Ryan was a good boy. A little dim in the head and naive most of the time, but always well-mannered and well-meaning. He was a dedicated hard worker in whatever he set his mind to. He was usually generally happy to be around and help other people. He would often volunteer to help out at the houses of his middle-aged and elderly neighbors, doing such chores and cooking, cleaning, and providing friendly company where he could. He was a timid, sweet boy, who had a tendency for taking things at face value and believing just about anything he was told, particularly by the words of his mother.

“The girls just texted me, said that they’ll be here shortly,” said Ryan’s mother, Gloria. She wore a dress for the evening that was equally as comfortable as it was elegant. Ryan had spent the better part of the day getting the house ready for his mother’s bi-annual get-together with her friends. Gloria threw parties spaced out from regular holiday celebrations as another excuse to mingle over drink, prepared food, and specialized entertainment. Ryan played his part with a smile in preparing all of it. “Make sure the flutes are already poured by the time they arrive, alright dear?”

“Yes, mother,” said Ryan, laying out the hor d'oeuvres he had prepared on a serving tray.

Where the boy lacked in most areas of intelligence and basic common sense, he made up for it with complacent obedience and conventional beauty. Ryan was a handsome young man, one built with a slim, athletic frame. His yellow hair was just long enough to make out the canary shade. His eyes sparkled when he smiled. He was already dressed for his role in the party, a pair of freshly pressed dress pants and a clip-on bowtie. Having Ryan go shirtless and barefoot for the events had become a tradition, a suggestion made by one of his mother’s friends from years prior that stuck around through majority say. Ryan never minded. Through years of athletic activities and being in charge of his mother’s landscaping, he certainly boasted an impressively toned and muscular physique for his age, though neither shame nor pride were ever factors in Ryan’s presentation. He merely obliged with his trademark, thousand-watt smile, happy to be able to provide the best possible experience for them all.

Shortly after Ryan had everything set up, the first guest arrived. Ryan was stationed at the front door to greet each of them. He knew them well from how close his mother was with each of them. They were a tightly knit group that knew each other through various departments of local public office. The first was Sandra, a Director on the Board of Education. She greeted Ryan with a warm kiss on his cheek before he took her coat and purse to hang by the door. The next was Donna, a Secretary from the Planning and Transportation Department. She was much more vocal upon entering, as was her typical demeanor. She giggled a mature laugh as she traced her fingertips across Ryan’s midsection.

Ryan had taken to serving the guests before the others came to the door. He silently handed out the drinks and hor d'oeuvres while they chatted among themselves about local politics, in and out of the public eye.

“Did you hear what’s been happening over in the DA’s office?” Sandra asked. The women sat around the seats in the living room, a warm fire crackling away in an ornate, stone mantle. A large, sturdy coffee table sat in the center as the midpoint between the seating.

“Uh oh, old Chamberlin screwing interns again?” Donna asked, rolling her eyes with a chuckle.

“I heard they were caught in his office,” said Gloria, “where she was doing some of that ‘under the desk’ business.” Donna howled with laughter as she sipped at her drink, nearly finishing the flute within the first two minutes.

“Hey now, I hope she’s at least getting something out of it,” she said, giving a sly glance to Ryan’s backside as he brought her another glass. “Lord knows you’d never catch me under there otherwise.”

“His wife evidently already knew and has just been quiet about it,” said Sandra. “But after the disciplinary hearing he’s going to have to go through, she may just up and leave him to save face.”

“Well, that’s why you keep these things private, right?” Gloria asked, raising her glass. The other two followed her lead.

“Amen,” said Donna. Ryan hurried at the sound of the doorbell. He rushed up to the front door, greeting Christine with a smile.

“Oh, look at you, getting bigger every time I see you,” said Christine. She was the oldest of Gloria’s close friends, though still managed to look no older than a woman in her late thirties. Christine was a City Comptroller. Ryan remembered this though never learning what exactly what she, or any of them, really did for a living. She came in with a hug, pressing herself against Ryan’s body, before leaving him with her coat and purse. Ryan hurried to provide her with her own drink and appetizer sampling. She joined the others for a friendly greeting while Ryan was called back to the door by another ring of the bell.

“Good to see you again, Ryan,” said Paula, a robust, handsy woman who squeezed her arms around the boy. Ryan hugged back and greeted Paula politely. Paula was a Director of Public Works. She had known Ryan since he was baby, hosting many summer hours in her pool growing up.

“Hello, Miss Paula,” he said. She pulled back, smiled, and held his face steady as she planted a kiss on the boy’s lips. Her hands traced down his neck and chest toward his belly. Her long nails flickered slightly against Ryan’s tight stomach, causing a slight fit of giggles to escape his lips. “Ahhheheeehhee!” He pulled back from Paula and out of the kiss, his face already deep red from the tickles. Paula chuckled, handing the boy her coat.

“There’ll be plenty more of that later, I assume?” she said. Ryan nodded.

“Y-yes, Miss Paula,” he said.

“Good,” she said. Paula pushed her way through the house to the living room with the others. Ryan hastily provided her food and drink before she even managed to sit down. As they all proceed to chat together, Ryan timidly waited for an opening before speaking.

“E-excuse me,” said Ryan softly, yet at the hushed attention of the ladies in the room. “I can have dinner ready, if you’d like.”

“What do you say, ladies?” Gloria asked. “Hungry? Ryan here’s whipped up quite the treat for you all.”

“Hell yeah, I’m starving,” said Paula.

“Let’s go,” Donna added. Ryan nodded as Gloria escorted them all together to the diving room. Ryan had the dishes plated and waiting in the warmer stationed in the kitchen. As the ladies got themselves situated at their already made places, Ryan brought the dishes out two at a time.

“So what are we having, Ryan?” Christine asked.

“Eggplant parmesan,” said Ryan as he brought out the second duo of plates, “with gnocchi and grilled zucchini.”

“And you made this yourself?” Sandra asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said. Donna cheered as Paula already began digging in.

“Damn, you really did teach this boy to cook,” she said to Gloria. Gloria smirked proudly.

“He’s a natural,” she said, as Ryan brought out her own dish separately.

“I guess he can’t be all looks, huh?” Christine asked. The women laughed around the table, steadily getting into their meal.

Ryan stayed close by during the dinner. He quietly refreshed glasses of wine and ice water steadily while the women talked amongst themselves. He never concerned himself much with what they had to say. Most of it went over his head, but he stayed diligent in taking dishes when the women would be done with them. He always seemed to pick up on when the women’s eyes would leer hungrily at him, even if he dared not react out of respect. A few times, as he walked by, he felt a hand or two brush against his thigh. Some hands even went as high as his midsection, teasing his belly and sides with light scribbling nails. Ryan giggled, yet continued with his business without objection.

Ryan had always been a ticklish thing. The parties seemed to involve him more and more upon reaching the age at which such a quality came under notice. The women came over more frequently to tease the boy with tickles, remarking at how he must have been the most ticklish boy in the world to be so sensitive. He wore the fact like a badge of honor, especially when prided on by his mother for being such a fun, ticklish boy growing up. He often put himself into positions of being tickled by others, naturally coming to enjoy the feeling of being so teased and praised. Ryan was always happy to help others, to provide a service, but none more so excited him than allowing himself to be the focus of such ticklish intentions.

The evening’s meal continued into dessert wine and homemade tiramisu. The women laughed, becoming louder the more bottles they emptied. Ryan stood by, continuing to take plates, refresh glasses, and to be passively touched and tickled with waning degrees of subtlety. Once the night had reached an inevitable lull, and Ryan had cleared off the table, Gloria stood up, stretching out her back a little.

“Alright then, ladies,” she said. “Are we ready?”

“Hell yeah,” Sandra said, rising from her chair. The others swiftly followed.

“I think so,” said Christine.

“Let’s do this,” Donna added. Their eyes stayed more on Ryan as he stood by. The women made their way back into the living room. Ryan followed closely behind. Back in the room, the fire was still crackling. It cloaked the room in a comfortable heat and the scent of soft embers. Steadily, the women took seats around the coffee table. They made themselves comfortable by slipping off their heels, setting them down to the side. Ryan stood by and watched them pull down their stockings one leg at a time. He swallowed and waited. Gloria looked up to the boy. She smiled as she waved him closer.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Ryan’s mother said. “You know what to do. As Ryan watched the women collect their stockings and make themselves comfortable in their seats, their drinks still by their sides, he indeed knew what to do.

“Yes, mother,” he said. Ryan reached down and unbuckled his pants. Upon freeing his button and his zipper, he let his pants drop down to his ankles, revealing only a short pair of boxer briefs beneath. Several of the women cheered him on. Paula even clapped as the pants came down. Ryan blushed. He smiled at the adoring attention, politely folding his pants and placing them off to the side.

“There you go,” Christine said, taking another sip of wine.

“Good boy,” Gloria said. “Now lay down.” Ryan knew the command well. He followed it without much thought to the motions. Ryan came up to the massive coffee table in between all of the women and took a seat. The table was wide enough to encompass the full length of his stretched-out body. He scooted back and proceeded to spread out his arms and legs toward the different corners.

“Aww, look at him,” said Sandra, reaching beneath the table. The women were well-versed on how to take the evening from there. On each corner, from beneath the table, they produced a sturdy, leather cuff attached to the base. All of them, but Ryan’s mother, assumed a position where they latched a cuff onto either one of Ryan’s wrists or his ankles. Their eyes devoured the sight of his stretched, nearly-naked body being bound for their amusement.

“We gonna give him hell tonight?” Donna asked.

“Yeah, but he’s going to love it,” said Paula. She turned to Ryan, laying out across the surface of the table, stroking his side with a single, teasing finger. “Aren’t you, sugar?” Ryan twitched and giggled. A smile stretched his burning cheeks, his eyes squinting as they glistened.

“Heeeheehe yes, ma’ammmm hehehehee…” Ryan laughed. Gloria rose from her position. She collected all of the loose stockings that the women had removed, including her own, and bunched them together in a tight little ball.

“I hope you ladies have been looking forward to this,” Gloria said. “Lord knows I have.”

“Girl, me too,” said Donna.

“After the month I’ve had, I’ve really been excited about tonight,” Christine said.

“I hear that,” Sandra said. Gloria smiled calmly as she walked up to just behind Ryan’s head. He looked up at his mother, staring down at him with the most familiar and comfortable smile across her face.

“Aww, my sweet boy,” Gloria said. “So adorable. Open wide.” Ryan did what he was told on instinct. He opened his mouth as wide as he could. Gloria bent down to insert the wadding up clump of stockings into the boy’s mouth. He moaned a bit upon feeling the warm, damp fabric press against his tongue. It filled his mouth with a single, musky flavor, one that instantly overpowered any notion of getting used to it. His briefs twitched slightly. Ryan began to feel the ache stirring within him,the elastic material pushing against his boyhood. Gloria fit the entire wad into Ryan’s mouth. She saved one stocking, however, and laced it through her fingers.

“Oh, he getting into it already,” Paula said with a snicker.

“That’s the Ryan I know,” Sandra said, taking another sip. Gloria bent down to give Ryan a small kiss on the forehead. She draped the other stocking over the boy’s eyes before lifting his head and tying it tightly across the back. Ryan moaned. The room had been reduced to faint shadows and shapeless figures. He groaned against the taste of the stockings in his mouth, knowing well that his mother expected him to keep them there until she were to come around to pull them out.

“Alright then, I think we’re all set up,” said Gloria, taking her seat again. “Is everyone ready?”

“I know I am,” Christine said. She leaned into one of the bottom corners of the table, housing the cuff containing Ryan’s right ankle.

“Ohhh, me too,” Paula said. She came closer to the other bottom corner, her eyes scanning all over Ryan’s bare foot. Ryan could feel the stares weight down on his skin and what that meant for what was to come. Paula waved a single hand of long, candy red nails just outside of Ryan’s blushing sole. The other women leaned in toward Ryan’s upper half. His stomach quivered as he sucked in long, deep breaths through his nose. The room had become more warm during the binding. Sweat started to bead up around his figure. Donna started out by laying both hands down against Ryan’s belly. Her own long, manicured claws began to lightly skitter across his skin, starting the boy up with a teasy flourish of ticklish giggles.

“Mmmmmppphhehehehehhhhhgghh!” Ryan’s muffled giggles seeped through the bunched fabric. The tickles teased his senses, forcing his body into helpless, impulsive twisted side to side. Ryan had much experience with being the little group’s personal ‘tickle toy’, but he never could shake certain involuntary reactions, to the amusement of his mischievous observers.

“Aww, look at him wiggle,” said Christine, cupping the top of Ryan’s foot with one hand. With as many bottles of wine having already been emptied through the evening, there was little care to reserve their tastes. Christine’s own nails quickly found Ryan’s sole, flying into a light scratching that sent waves of tickles crashing through Ryan’s body like a storm.

“I know, girl, he is just the cutest like this!” Paula said. She too went in to tickle the boy’s other foot, but opted to use both sets of nails at once. Both of Ryan’s feet flailed through his obvious hysteria, though while Sandra’s kept hers steady, Paula simply kept up with the motions and took to delivering as many tickles as she could, as fast as she could.

“MMMMGGGHHHHHEHHEHEHEHEEEEEHEE!!!!” Ryan squealed. He threw his head back, his body bucking against the table. He pulled at his binds as Donna’s own teasing of his belly quickly evolved into a full-on tickle assault. Her nails scurried across the lad’s sensitive skin. She scratched and danced them along the ridges of his pulsing, contracting muscles. She played the boy like a ticklish instrument, a toy with no other purpose than to be tickled to their content.

“He’s so loud too,” Donna said. She kneaded her fingers at his side. She counted his ribs and scratched at his quaking stomach. She sat across from Sandra, playing Ryan’s body in a likewise fashion on the other side.

“That’s just how you know you’re doing a good job,” she said with a laugh. All the women cackled over the boy, though no laughter was louder than Ryan’s, even with the stocking gag. Ten nails ferociously tickled his stomach, with ten more fluttering up and down his ribs. Ten alone attacked one highly ticklish sole with complete disregard to his composure while fine dug meticulously at the delicate spaces between his toes, unhindered by his movements. Before Ryan could even process the surging, all-over tickles, more came exploding against his armpits.

“As long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters,” Gloria said. Ryan could barely isolate his mother’s voice up behind his head, but he knew her ticklish touch ravaging against his slick, exposed hollows, scribbling with little conservation of effort on her part.

“MMMGGGHGHHHHHMMEMEEEEEHEHEHEHEEEEEE!!!” Ryan’s laughter had quickly become screams. His back arched against the table. His muscles strained in pulling at his binds, despite the rigorous amounts of training his mother had put him through to avoid reacting with demur. The tickles exploded through his body from all angles. They same in erupting blasts throughout his senses, coupled with the taunting voice and insidious, mocking laughter. His member in his boxers continued to grow and push against the fabric. It wafted side to side, waving with the thrashing of his hips.

“Big boy’s getting bigger,” said Sandra. Her nails lightly grazed across his belly with the faintest, yet most rapid, of strokes, like bugs swarming over a feast.

“Better not bust too quickly tonight,” said Paula, her own nails covering every inch of Ryan’s flailing sole in maddening tickles. “I’ve been looking forward to a long, long night with this one.” She grinned as her fingers devoured the ticklish nerves across Ryan’s foot.

“MMMGGGHHHEHEHEHEHEHEEEE!!!!!” Ryan belted into his gag. Ryan’s mother had taken to making sure that Ryan took good care of his feet. Measures were put into place to keep them soft and to preserve their abundant sensitivity. Both Paula and Christine found Ryan’s feet to be pleasantly warm, baby soft, and profusely ticklish.

“Don’t you worry about that,” said Gloria. She stole a few more skittering tickles around Ryan’s pits before retracting from the spot. “You girls stay and play as long as you like. I assure you, he can, and he will, take it.” She reached up to her collar bone and produced a small key, hanging from a necklace around her neck. She removed it and inserted it into a lock in the table while the other girls continued to tickle. Gloria opened the unlocked drawer and produced a colorful set of feathers. The tickling briefly paused to assess the distribution of tools.

“Nice,” said Christine. “I’ve always liked this part. Anyone want to switch?” Ryan heaved deep, groaning breaths, trying his best to suck down air from behind his rancid gag. Sweat trickled down his body. Tears soaked into his blindfold. His chest rose and fell with great exaggeration. And yet, his cock remained stiff and aching beneath his boxers.

“Oh, yes please,” said Donna. The two ladies switched seats. Donna admired Ryan’s blushing bare sole with a smile while Christine’s eyes lingered over the lad’s muscular, glistening body.

“You want to too?” Sandra asked Paula.

“Nah, I’m good!” said Paula, eagerly staying down by Ryan’s foot. Sandra smiled and nodded.

“I figured,” she said, chuckling. Gloria proceeded to hand out each of the feathers. Sandra took the yellow one and Donna took a purple one. The red one went to Paula while the blue one was handed to Christine. Gloria was left with the green one. She smiled and took her seat again just behind Ryan’s head.

Gloria started the tickling again by swiping her feather across Ryan’s inner bicep. The boy had only just begun to catch his breath when he twitched into a new series of giggles. The tickling came light, but unexpected. From behind the blindfold, Ryan felt everything so much more potently than normal, and within seconds of just that feathering alone, he was already squirming and succumbing to uncontrollable laughter.

“He’s so sensitive, I love it,” said Christine.

“I know,” added Sandra. “So cute!” Her and Christine added their own feathers to Ryan’s midsection. They traced each up and down the ridges of the boy’s ribs. His body wriggled against the table, his hips shifting side to side as he endured the feathery tickles with more and more delightful laughter.

“Mmmmheheheeheeehhhheheheheheeee!!” Even behind his gag, Ryan’s laughter always had a captivating, melodic quality to it. The calmness of it in the face of the light feathers was quickly exacerbated, however, by the additional feathering down at his soles.

“Coochie coochie coo!” Donna teased. He held his squirmy foot firmly in one hand while the other traced the feather up and down the full length of his sole. The fibrous end started at the plush, pearly heel, swiped across the boy’s milky, white arch, flicked off at his toes, and brushed back down, over and over again. Ryan’s foot trembled in her other hand. She grinned as she observed the more minute details of how much ticklish turmoil a simple feather was doing against the boy’s bare sole.

“Don’t he just make the cutest little tickle toy you ever seen?” Paula asked, tending to Ryan's other foot. She too held it steady with her other hand. She took to focusing her feather on the boy’s toes. She flossed the plume in between each, methodically brushing the tool across every ticklish spot of each squirming digit.

“MmmmmhehehggghhhehehehEHHEHEHHEHEEE!!!” Ryan’s fluttery giggles quickly became full bouts of laughter. His back lifted briefly up off of the table. His foot tried to weasel out Paula’s grasp, but she held it firm, keeping his foot pulled back and his toes perfectly accessible. She giggles as she feathered each little digit. The plume brushed across the highly sensitive spots in between. It plucked against the delicate stems and brushed swiftly along the row of pads blushing an inviting shade of pink. Each little swipe of both feathers sent Ryan’s senses careening into colliding ticklish fits stacked on top of one another.

“Oh wow, look at that boy squirm,” Christine said. “Acting like he don’t love this… heh heh…” The compounding tickles quickly returned Ryan’s composure to a clashing state of pleasure and panic. Feathery tickles all over his body left him bucking against the table, made worse by Sandra and Christine stealing more tickles with their unoccupied hands across his pits and belly. The women laughed and chatted and teased over having Ryan all to themselves, a toy to play with well into Ryan’s own ticklish oblivion.

“MMMGGGHHHHHEHEHEHHEHEEEEEHEHEHEE!!!!” Ryan groaned and screamed into his gag. The tickles built to unbearable extremes, and yet Ryan knew his one and only role in the exchange was to bear it all for their entertainment. His mother smiled down at his face, his expression straining with laughter.

“Awww, isn’t he just so handsome,” Gloria said. One feather swiped across Ryan’s tender, twitching armpit while her nails skittered within the other. She switched at will, enjoying listening to the intimate nuances of his muffled laughter up close.

“He sure is,” said Sandra. The rest of the women agreed with enthusiasm, enjoying the display that Ryan put on for each of them. Ryan shrieked with ticklish laughter. He twitched and dripped with sweat. He heaved down deep breaths, all of which came with the refreshing taste of the women’s stockings filling his mouth. He could see nothing but shapeless blurs. He twisted against the table, pulling at each of his cuffs on instinct. Still, the tickling only fueled the passions that burned through his body, warming with ache. His cock twitched and continued to grow for all the women to see.

“MMMMEHEHGGEHHGEHEHEHEHEEEEE!!!!” Ryan howled. Minutes ticked by until time, to Ryan, became too abstract a concept to perceive in his state, riddled with ticklish hysteria. The boy could only laugh and endure the tickles that poured in from every angle. The women giggled as they tormented his senses. They watched closely how his body reacted, focusing on one spot in particular. When it finally reached a certain size, the girls looked at one another.

“You think he’s ready?” Christine asked.

“I know I am,” said Sandra, across from her. Donna smiled and looked up to Gloria.

“We good?” asked Donna. Gloria smiled warmly at her as she continued to tickle her son’s armpits.

“He’s all yours,” she said. The women cheered.

“Alright then,” said Sandra. She reached up to the elastic waistband of Ryan’s boxers. As naturally as she would slip off her own underwear, she pulled down Ryan’s just far enough to expose his full package. The tickles slowed to access the new phase, just enough to reduce Ryan’s laughter back down to a fluttering giggle. Sandra struggled to get the waistband around Ryan’s fully erect cock, but once she did, the thing flopped up and stood like an obelisk.

“Alright, there we go!” said Paula. The women commented on its immense size.

“That’s what I like to see,” said Christine. “Bigger than my husband’s.” She spoke slyly into a joke that became well-received and agreed upon by the other women. Gloria smiled as she reached back into the drawer. She pulled out a pair of hairbrushes and a small, travel-sized bottle of baby oil.

“You you are, ladies,” she said, passing them down to Donna and Paula.

“There we are, my favorites,” said Paula.

“So who’s first?” Christine asked.

“Me,” Sandra insisted. She kept her feather in hand and leaned in closer to Ryan’s towering member. The area was musky. The shaft was thick and pumping with traces of veins running throughout. The tip was bulbous and blushing a shade that matched the boy’s cheeks. It pulsed with need, blood eagerly pumping throughout. Donna and Paula took to applying the baby oil to Ryan’s soles as the boy wheezed for air. His chest pumped up and down, his stomach wavering with staggered breaths. “Ready?”

“Uh huh,” Donna said. She and Paula took the brushes in hand and tapped them together like a toast. Sandra smirked. She took the feather and began lightly running it up and down the sizable length of Ryan’s cock. It was then that Paula and Donna both took a firm hand to hold each of Ryan’s feet steady before attacking each sole with vicious scrubbing from the brushes. Immediately, Ryan’s voice peaked into a laughing scream.

“GHHHHMMMMMEEEHEHEHEHHEEEEEEEE!!!!” Ryan’s hips rocketed off of the table as Sandra’s feather continued to stroke up and down his member. Tears soaked through the stocking over his eyes. Drool seeped through his gag and down the corners of his mouth. The women laughed with him. Donna and Paula sawed the brushed up and down his trapped, taut soles with a flourish of vigor.

“Listen to that laugh!” Christine said.

“I know, I love it!” Paula added. “So precious!” Her and Donna worked up a sweat scrubbing each of Ryan’s soles with the hairbrushes. The bristles slid effortlessly across the oiled surfaces. Each pass left them blushing a deeper shade of pink than before until both were beaming with devastating sensitivity.

“PPPHHHHEEEEEGGGGHEHHEHEHEHEHEEEEEHEHEH!!!!” Ryan’s muffled laughter still belted over the entire room. It echoed over the laughter and chatter of the ladies, along with the violently scrubbing sounds of both brushes. Ryan’s cock twitched with its own rising sensitivity. It responded to each pass of Sandra’s feather, the pressure building inside of him stirring more and more by the second. Gloria and Christine took to positioning themselves on each of Ryan’s sides. There, they indulged their scribbling nails up and down the boy’s body. They scratched inside of his pits, scaled down his ribs, pinched at his sides, and scurried and skittered all over his quivering tummy.

“Almost there, I bet!” Donna said. The women cheered on the efforts to reduce the boy further with maddening tickles. Sandra merely feathered the boy’s cock, tickling with the faintest of touches. The direct stimulation was a challenge to endure at such contrasting pacing. The tickles from every angle were either maddeningly overwhelming or teasingly insistent. It was only a matter of time before the pressure born of such stress would finally relieve itself to the swipe of a single feather.

“GGGGHHHMMMMMMMMMEHEHEHEHEEE!!!!!” Ryan let out a deep groan as his cock erupted before the women. His milky white seed burst forth like a geyser, collapsing onto his sweaty body like a stream pouring into a small pool on his stomach. The women cheered. They acknowledged Ryan’s explosive climax with uproarious support. And yet, the tickling continued. Ryan’s orgasm finished with him right back into his screaming fit of laughter, still thrashing against the table. The orgasm had left him more receptive to the tickles. The same sensory destructive stimulation came with much more potency than before, effects that he had no other choice than to endure.

“Alright, ladies, who’s next?” Sandra asked. The ladies snickered and waited for the next volunteer to take the feather.

The feather, and the position that wielded it, was passed from woman to woman throughout the night. All the positions were circulated. Baby oil was reapplied each time the hair brushes were passed between them. Ryan’s soles remained slick and roughly tormented throughout the evening. They taunted the boy. They laughed at his reactions, at his guttural, muffled laughter. For hours, they encased his body in tickles and stimulation for their own amusement. With each woman, the boy was feathered into another orgasm. Each came more strained than the last, and left him with a new degree of sensitivity to their ticklish delights. His laughter echoed through the room in desperate cries. His soles were perpetually scrubbed, scoured with tickles exploding through his nerves. His body was a playground for them, a sandbox for them to live out their sadistic, ticklish, dominance whims. And yet, Ryan still knew that that was exactly what he was good for.

When the tickles finally stopped, Ryan’s body dripped with sweat, tears, and the rivers of his own cum. He could only gasp and heave for air. His body laid out limp and weak from constantly struggling against his binds. His cock continued to leak, leaning delicately off toward one side. He knew not if the tickles were actually over. Such a matter did not factor into his mind, for to him, he was there for that very purpose, as per his mother’s instruction.

Well past midnight, the women started to leave. As Gloria had insisted that he be left cuffed to the table, they each planted a soft kiss on Ryan’s cheek before walking out. They thanked his mother for a wonderful time and she, in turn, cordially thanked them for coming. Once all of the women had left, Gloria returned to her son, recovering from the ordeal. She came up to his face, kneeling down to get closer. She put her hands on his cheeks and smiled.

“My sweet boy,” she said softly. She carefully pulled the balled-up stockings out of Ryan’s mouth. The boy gasped. He sucked down refreshing swallows of cool, clean air, still fighting to catch his breath.

“Mo… moth… er…” Ryan said. “D-did I… do good?”

“You were very good,” said Gloria. “And you’re going to be just as good next weekend.”

“Wh… wha….”

“Paula’s hosting her own get-together at her place for us and some more of her friends,” Gloria said. “And she wants you to be there. Just like this, understand?” Ryan paused. A weary smile came to his lips. He gave a quick, swift nod.

“Y… y-yes, mo… mother…” Ryan said. Gloria smiled proudly. She bent down to give her son a kiss on the forehead.

“Good boy,” she said.

Ryan was, indeed, a good boy.