Brian's Bully (M/M) (Patreon)

Several apps, linked to their own catalogs of material, harbored one of Brian Cook's intensely kept secrets; his love of tickling. He cycled through them all several times a day, most oftenly through slow times in school. He would read short stories of characters being tickled to their limits, observed art of unfortunately ticklish victims, and read comics detailing tortures of hilarity. Brian would scan through the various apps and sites, saving the ones that he likes the most. In them all, however, he would drift off into daydreams of himself trapped in those ticklish situations, living the rush of being so helplessly toyed with through his own imagination. He kept this side of himself closely guarded, yet the moment would eventually come when he was caught off guard under the assumption that he was alone at his locker.

"What'chu smiling at, cookie?" a harsh voice snapped Brian's head around. Before he could react, a swift hand swiped Brian's phone from his hand. Brian's wide eyes glanced in jolting horror at Aaron Raundenbalm's snickering while staring down at the screen in his palm.

"No!" Brian shouted. "Give it back!" The halls of the school had been empty for little over an hour. Brian's solo study session with a tutor had proved unfortunately intersectional with Aaron's afternoon in detention.

"What's all this?" Aaron asked, his lips curling at observing Brian's folder of favorited tickle art.

"It's nothing!" Brian shouted. He lunged at Aaron, who dashed away at Brian's pitiful attempts. Aaron gave Brian a hard shove. Brian went spilling out onto the floor as Aaron continued to scroll through the boy’s folder.

"Aww, what’s this?" Aaron asked again. "What? Little freak likes tickling, huh?"

"N-no!" Brian shouted. A deep flush of heat came rushing to his cheek. "Seriously, give it back!" He pushed himself to his feet and rushed Aaron once more. Aaron laughed. He backed away, holding up the phone just out of Brian's reach.

"Cookie wanna be tickled," Aaron taunted. He laughed as he teased Brian, nearly bringing the boy to tears with the nightmarish revelation.

"No, please!" Brian shouted. Aaron just laughed. He continued to dodge and jest, pushing Brian back in the halls. Aaron had, for years, gone to great lengths to make Brian's scholastic experience as terrible as possible. Honey in the backpack, lunch spilled out all over the cafeteria floor, but nothing prepared him for the dread of having such a monster discover his greatest secret.

"You're a little freak, aren't you, cookie?" Aaron jeered. The boy chuckled and backed away from Brian's desperate pursuit. "I have an idea!" A gleaming smile came across Aaron's face. He turned away and bolted through the halls, his sneakers squeaking against the floor with every step.

"No!" Brian cried out again. He grabbed his backpack and chased after Aaron, admittedly unable to keep up with Aaron's speed. Aaron was not one to keep up with the mainstream tastes of sports, as he saw them, but he boasted a physique far more capable than that of Brian's. However, Aaron dashed through the halls and into the gymnasium locker room. Brian was considerably behind, but knew where Aaron had gone. He stormed inside, flinging the door open to the room where he was just a stranger as Aaron had been, to confront the menace. "Give it back!"

"No, no, you got some good stuff here it seems, cookie," Aaron said, standing back and scrolling his finger across Brian's phone. "I bet everyone would love to see what it is you think about all day." Brian never seemed to envy the mass networks of friends that Aaron and others like him had been gifted with, it seemed. He was usually content with keeping to himself and his friends online, but he knew that Aaron could easily let his secret spread to half the school with minimal effort. A chilling pit gnawed away within his chest. He reached up, wiping a tear away beneath his glasses, before clearing his throat.

"Pl-please, don't..." Brian begged. Aaron laughed.

"No?" he asked. "Alright then, cookie, how about this? Just be honest with me. You like this stuff, huh?" Aaron held up the phone, showing Brian the screen of a piece involving a boy holding down another boy for tickles at a sleepover. Dread left his throat dry.

"Please don't tell anyone," Brian begged.

"Nah, nah, nah, it's honesty time," Aaron said. "I want you to tell me, right now, that you like this." Brian struggled to form the words. He had never told anyone. Fantasies about being humiliated with tickles and uncovered secrets never prepared him for the actual event, leaving his hands shaking and sweaty.

"Ok-okay, I... I like it, okay?" Brian spoke softly.

"You like this?" Aaron asked again. "You want to be tickled? Like this?" Brian’s eyes turned to the piece again on the screen. The boy tickling did so with a mischievous grin while the one being tickled was caught in a fit of laughter, his expression beaming with blush and joy. Brian sniffled.

"Y-yes," Brian said. Aaron smirked. He slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"Alright, cookie," Aaron said. "I'll give it back, but you gotta do something for me first." Brian sighed, but was quick to comply.

"What?" Brian asked. Aaron came closer. He pushed Brian firmly against a wall of lockers. Brian gasped. He swallowed upon staring back at Aaron's face, smirking within inches of his. Aaron stood before Brian with unwavering confidence. He breathed heavily, towering half a head over the boy. Aaron leaned in closer. He grabbed at Brian’s backpack, throwing it over against a nearby bench.

"You're gonna do what I say, got it," Aaron grunted. Brian shook. His chest rose and fell with greater repetition. The room was already musky and warm, but only then did Brian begin feeling the sweat beading against his skin.

"I... o-okay," Brian said.

"That's a 'yes'," Aaron said. "No, 'yes sir'. Got it, cookie?" Brian's cheeks burned. He swallowed once more, his lips quivering as he stared back into Aaron's unshifting eyes.

"Y-yes... sir," he said.

"Good boy," Aaron said. "Now, are you ticklish?" Brian knew in the moment that the question would normally paralyzed him, but Aaron spoke with such a hypnotic, primal growl that the words simply came as naturally as air to his lips.

"Yes," Brian said.

"'Yes' what?"

"Yes sir," Brian repeated.

"Good," Aaron said. "Hold up your arms." Brian paused. His body stood frozen in place. For a moment, he questioned even how he was supposed to move at all, wondering if the command was a trick of some kind. This hesitation, however, crumbled in the presence of Aaron assuming his authority over him. "Now!"

Brian's arms shot up. He pressed the backs of his hands against the warm, damp surface of the locker doors behind him. His eyes were wide and fearful, yet his stare remained submerged in Aaron's heated, appraising gaze.

"Higher," Aaron ordered. Without question, Brian straightened his arms up above his head. His elbows had been lazily bent in position, but with a single word, he corrected himself for Aaron, who stood before him nodding. "Alright then. You're going to keep them right there, cookie, until I say otherwise. Got it?"

"Y-yes, sir," Brian said. Aaron grinned. Without another word, Aaron pushed both of his hands into Brian's outstretched pits. He scribbled with all ten fingers, pushing against Brian to keep the boy in place. Brian let out a piercing shriek. He jolted in place, his knees buckling and arms slamming back down against his sides. "Neeeeeaaahahhahahaaaaa!!"

“Uh oh, someone moved out of place,” Aaron said. “Looks to me like you want your dirty little secret shared all over school.” Brian quickly gathered himself and stood straight up again. He swallowed and hesitantly eased his arms back up into the air. Aaron grinned with a slight switch, a lift at the corner of his mouth. “Alright then.”

Aaron’s hands lifted back up to Brian’s sides, resuming the ticklish shoving. Brian melted back into a fit of laughter. His face was still bright red as he squirmed to the tickling being thrust against him in the locker room. Every little scribble and swipe of Aaron’s strong hands sent ticklish flutters through his body, flowing in from both sides and colliding at his racing heart.

“Gaaaahahahahahahahaaaaa!!” Brian cried out. Aaron pressed more of himself against Brian to keep the boy in place as he squirmed up against the shifting locker doors. And still, through the tickles pulsing through him left him squealing and anxiously writhing where he stood, Brian managed to keep his arms up above his head.

“That’s right, cookie,” Aaron sneered. “You like this, don’t you, freak?” The position and ticklish assault on his senses made Brian think of some of the videos that he had seen of similar situations. He recalled several pieces of art where one guy would be strung up with his arms above his head while another guy would be unleashing wild, scribbling fingers against his pits. Occasionally, Brian’s elbows would buckle a bit, but he fought to keep them stretched out, high above his head for the tickling, as if they were bound and he had no choice in the matter.

“Faaaaahahahahahahahahaa!! I caahahahahaaaan’t!!” Brian shouted. Through teary eyes, he watched Aaron’s devious grin stretch before him, the boy smelling of musk and challenging, yet familiar, cologne. Aaron snickered. He kept Brian pressed up against the wall of lockers as his fingers dug into the boy’s pits, keeping him squealing and giggling helplessly.

“Oh, but you’re gonna, cookie,” Aaron said. He stepped back, giving Brian a second to catch his breath. Brian’s freckled cheeks glowed a telling shade of cherry. He stared back at Aaron, curious as to what the boy would do next. “Now then, take off your shirt.”

“My… shirt?”

“Duh!” Aaron shouted. “Did I stutter, freak?” Brian paused. He swallowed and looked around the room, his face still bright red. Slowly, he reached down to the tail end of his shirt. She started to pull up, his breathing still rapid and weary. When he pulled the shirt up over his head, he let it drop to the floor by his feet. A sudden chill grazes his skin. He reaches up to hug his chest tightly, the cold of the room quickly settling against his frail, meek figure.

“Good, Aaron continued. His eyes drifted over Brain’s bare upper half as his tone softened. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you cookie.” Brain swallowed once more.

“Y-you’re not?” Brian asked, breathing a paused sigh.

“No,” Aaron said, coming in closer to Brian. “I’m just gonna play with you a bit and you’re gonna do exactly what I say. Still got it?” Brian pushed up his glasses with his finger. Aaron’s tone had shifted to something warmer, yet still firmly in control of the situation. Brian nodded, staring up at his approached bully.

“Y-yes…”

“‘Yes’?”

“Yes… sir,” Brian muttered.

“Good little cookie,” Aaron said. “Now, hold your arms out. Grab onto the doors if you have to.” Brian hesitated to note the accommodation suggested by Aaron, restraining the otherwise confrontational nature that he had come to expect from the boy. Brian did what he was told, stretching out his arms to his sides and grabbing onto the loose grooves of the lockers, wherever he could slip his fingers into for grip. He stood before Aaron, his pasty bare chest and stomach on full display. Aaron continued to scan his eyes over Brian’s meager physique before coming in closer.

Aaron gently placed his hands on Brian’s sides. His touch was reserved and careful initially. It still made Brian gasp and jump a little, reminding him just how ticklish he was after having gone so long without feeling the wanted sensations. Soon after, however, his memory was violently jogged as Aaron’s spread fingers began gnawing at his plush sides, feasting on his hyper-ticklish obliques.

“Eeeeeehhhehehhahhahahahahahaaa!!” Brian recoiled in place, squirming a bit side to side as he squealed into another cascade of laughter. His bare upper half glistened with a fine layer of sweat, leaving his body slick for Aaron’s brutal ticklish assault. Brian wiggled in place while Aaron’s hands squeezed at the boy’s sides. The heat of Brian’s body resonated onto Aaron’s touch. Brian shrieked and screamed with laughter, throwing his head back as his face glowed a beaming shade of red.

“That’s right, freak,” Aaron said. “You’re my ticklish little plaything now.” Aaron himself breathed harder. The room filled with musky heat, swirling around them both to the waves of Brian’s manic, ticklish laughter. Brian shifted anxiously, pulling at the locker doors onto which his fingers gripped for support. Each squeezing tickle came with an explosive surge that ravished through his senses. The tickles were intimate sensations that he had only previously fantasized or dreamt about. Brian had little experience with which to deal with the surges of stimulation coursing through his body. He simply held onto the doors to keep his arms apart and did his best to endure the treatment.

“Oh gaaaaahahahahahahaaaaaaad!!” Brian cried out. His glasses slipped down his nose as his head shook. Sweat began to bead at the tips of his hair. He shook and squirmed in place, kept marginally still by Aaron’s body pressing against his. The bully’s hands darted up and down his sides. They squeezed with wide, violent pulses. His fingers alternated into skittering up and down the boy’s ribs, tormenting the full edges of his bare midsection. Aaron smirked as he watched and listened to Brian’s ticklish turmoil up close, soaking in all of the boy’s explosive reactions.

“Awww, poor ticklish cookie,” Aaron taunted. “You’re gonna take a lot more than this from now on. Better get used to it.” He stayed close to Brian, allowing his body to help pin the boy against the wall of lockers. Brian shifted against him as the tickles poured in from both sides. Once again, his mind flashed back to moments in the creative depictions of ticklish instances. His heart raced at the idea of being the subject to such a harsh assault of pure tickling. Beyond the fear of being ridiculed by Aaron and his friends, and the underlying unbearableness of enduring the ticklish ordeal, there was more to the act that got his heart racing, both in the reality of the situation and in how it reminded him of some of his favorite works featuring frail, ticklish boys laughing at the hands of devilishly playful men.

“Gaaaaahahahahahahaa!!! PLeeeeahahahahse!!” Brian screamed. He twisted and pulled, his skin slick with a sweaty musk that filled the air around them both. Aaron merely chuckled, giving no indication of being done with his ticklish figure.

“‘Please’ what, cookie?” Aaron asked tauntingly. “‘Please’ more? Is that it? You like this, don’t you? Say it!” Aaron’s hands shifted to Brian’s stomach. His fingers dug into the slick, soft surface of Brian’s tummy, kneading into the boy’s tensed abdominals. Brian squealed as he laughed. He chuckled and yipped and pulled at both of his arms, his hands still holding onto the locker doors to keep his midsection open and available.

“Eeeeeeekkkhhehhehhahahahaha!! Yeeeehhehehhahahsss sir!!” Brian shouted out. Aaron gave a hearty chuckle. He dug his gnawing fingers into Brian’s stomach, each pulsing grab sending flurries of tickles spreading throughout Brian’s senses. Brian yelped and twisted in place. His face was bright red, his cherry cheeks glistening with tears and sweat. Aaron drank it all in with a smirk.

“Ha!” Aaron laughed. “I knew it! Fre… er, ticklish little cookie…” Aaron laughed a bit more before stepping back. Brian gasped as the tickles came to a sudden halt. He dropped his arms and reached up to stroke his hair. Brian panted heavily while bent over, his knees having grown weak and exhausted. Aaron allowed the boy to catch his breath before catching him off guard with a stern shove, placing a hand on Brian’s shoulder. “Now then, take off your shoes.”

“M-my shoes…?” Brian stuttered, his face still burning bright red.

“Why should I have to do it when you’re the one who wants it so bad?” Aaron asked. The line caught Brian’s ear as being similar to something said in one of his most favorite tickle videos. “Show me how much you want it. Take off your shoes. And the socks. Now.” Brian swallowed. His mind jolted for a moment. He considered the implications of simply denying the command, as per a natural initial reaction. However, the more he thought about it in the moment, the less he could argue against his own deeply seeded wishes. Looking into Aaron’s steely eyes, Brian was both more comforted and unnerved. His impulsions guided his movements as Brian began using his feet to slip off his sneakers, becoming more at ease with surrendering to the overbearing bully.

“That’s it,” said Aaron, his voice low and soft, as if accommodating for Brian’s shy hesitation. Brian slipped off both shoes before lifting his feet to his hands. He slipped his fingers into the elastic brims of his socks, pulling them off one at a time. The fresh air left a brief coolness brushing his soles as they touched against the tiled floor of the locker room. A sensation of being naked came over him from simply being barefoot in front of Aaron. He had never been so exposed in front of another boy before. The feeling of being a fish out of water weighed on his shoulders, being barefoot and bare chested in the boy’s locker room, a room designated almost exclusively for boys far more rough and masculine than him.

Brian nervously stood before Aaron. He pushed up his glasses while Aaron simply smirked and looked Brian up and down.

“You got some soft looking feet there, cookie,” Aaron said. “Let’s see if they’re just as ticklish as the rest of you. Lay on the bench, face down.” Brian could only imagine how ticklish his feet were. They certainly showed a striking sensitivity to changes in textures and temperatures. His heart pounded at the idea of finding out for certain. He had seen many videos and pictures and art pieces of boys getting their feet tickled to exaggerated effects. Part of him hoped his feet were resilient enough to be able to endure whatever tickling it was that Aaron had in store for them. Another part, however…

“Now!” Aaron said impatiently. Brian swallowed and nodded.

“I-uh… y-yes, sir,” Brian said. He climbed up onto the bench in the center of the room. He laid down flat on his stomach, as instructed, taking on as comfortable a position as he could under such an arrangement. Aaron grabbed Brian’s ankles and pressed them together. He positioned them right at the end of the bench, where Brian’s feet could hang down freely. Aaron straddled the backs of Brian’s calves, staring down at the silky soft pair.

“Yeah, you got nice looking feet here, cookie,” Aaron reiterated. A hot wave came over Brian’s cheeks, a deep burning that he had not the means of ignoring. It became all too apparent, even without looking at him, that his bully was staring down at his bare soles in a way that no one ever had before, with full intention of testing their ticklishness. Brian’s heart beat like a deep, pounding drum. The shame, the exposure, the humiliation in being so vulnerable alone was enough to invite an anxiety attack. He fought to steady his breath. Unable to know when the tickling would start, he braced himself for a full onslaught of gushing sensations right away. The tickles came suddenly, but not in a way that Brian had led himself to believe they would.

“Neeeeehhhhhehhehehehhahahahahahaa!!” Brian eased into a new fit of laughter. He expected the tickling to explode from his feet, to surge with violent eruptions against his already compromised composure. Instead, the tickles came with light flutters from Aaron’s fingertips. The bully had paused to admire the soles presented before him to trickle. Brian’s were baby soft from a lifetime of protection from padded sneakers and a lack of strenuous exposure. They blushed a flirty shade of pink around the heel and balls and all along the rows of toes. His arches were supple and pale. Each foot gave off a blooming, inviting warmth against Aaron’s hands, the boy restraining his efforts to savor the delicate plush finish against his fingers.

“Awww, ticklish down here too, aren’t you, cookie?” Aaron asked. Brian knew it to be true, possibly for the first time in his life. His ticklishness was supported by knowing that Aaron was still holding back, merely gauging his reactions with the smallest of scribbles. Even so, the tickles fluttered up through him like flower petals in a hurricane. Every little swipe, every little scribble, came with surging effects against his senses. His feet squirmed beneath Aaron’s fingertips. His upper body thrashed side to side, nearly collapsing completely off of the bench. His glasses loosened from his face, almost falling off the tip of his nose.

“Aaaaaahhhhehehehehehehehehahaha!!” Brian laughed to the sensations of having his ticklish feet at his bully’s delight. “Stahahahahahahahaaaap!” Brian begged almost immediately. The tickles storming up from his soles were nearly too much for the boy to bear, even with Aaron’s more casual, appraising touch. Aaron snickered as he stared down at them tucked beneath his thighs, completely at his mercy.

“Nah, you don’t really want me to stop, do you, cookie?” Aaron teased. He drove his shallow nails against Brian’s warm, plush soles. He skittered them up and down the milky lengths of his arches and scratched maddeningly at his heels. He dug deviously at the bases of his toes. Every passing second of Aaron’s ten fingers constantly scribbling at his soles was another trapped within a whirlwind of ticklish laughter. The bully scratched faster and harder, easing Brian into a deeper, hysterical fit.

“Naaaaaahhahahahahahahahaaaa!! Nahaahahahahaaaaa!!” Brian laughed. His face darkened with a rushing blush. Sweat covered his half naked body in a telling sheen. Aaron snickered and smirked at playing with the boy’s ticklish soles, driving his rough nails into the pockets beneath Brian’s squirming, clenching toes. Brian shrieked. He bucked and thrashed and yet, through it all, felt a macabre sense of validation in what Aaron had said. The boy’s heart raced. He could not honestly deny the exhilaration. His mind flashed in images of different scenarios in which one guy was face down having his delicate feet tormented and played with at the mercy of some sadistic tickler, moments favorited within his very memory.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Aaron said. He scribbled his fingers all over Brian’s ticklish toes, weaving his touch in between each for maximum effect. His touch not only proved Brian’s ticklishness to them both but also pushed the moment into something out of Brian’s very dreams, breaching the doubt that he would ever experience such a thing on his own. Brian could only lay there and endure, steadily endeared by the act that challenged him so.

Aaron’s fingers licked all over both of Brian’s soles. His nails scraped across every hyper-ticklish inch. He traced his hands across the personal humidity of the boy’s blushing soles. By the end of it, Aaron knew Brian’s feet better than anyone else. He smirked as he tickled, embracing every twitch and pitiful, laughing squeal. He admired how his toes curled and his feet shifted beneath his hands. Only when Brian’s laughter grew exhausted did he finally pull his hands back, letting Brian wheeze and struggling to catch his breath.

“How about you thank me now, cookie,” Aaron said. “I could have been a lot meaner.”

“Th… tha…”

“Nah, nah, how about… you thank me for tickling you at all, since you like it so much,” said Aaron, with a chuckle. He gave Brian’s foot a sudden swipe with his finger, causing Brian to gasp into a giggle. “With the sir.”

“Th… thank y-you…” Brian began slowly, “f-for tickling me… sir…”

“That’s a good boy,” he said. He reached down to Brian’s backpack, leaning next to the bench. Without getting up, he unzipped the front pocket of the bag and fished out a black Sharpie. He tore off the cap and held one of Brian’s feet steady. “Hold still, now. I don’t wanna mess up.” Aaron pulled Brian’s right foot back by the toes, making his burning sole delightfully taut. He carefully drew the marker across Brian’s sole, writing out something that Brian could not make out amongst the new set of tickles surges through him.

“Whhahahahahaaaa!” Brian cried out. “Whaaahahahata aahahaaare you do-aahahahahahaaaaa?!” Aaron stroked the marker meticulously across Brian’s ticklish sole. Brian could tell that he was writing out something specific, yet had not a guess as to what it could be. He could only lay there and endure fresh tickles raging through his foot.

“Marking my property, duh,” Aaron said. Brian’s heart fluttered as it raced. The same warmth that permeated his cheeks rushed all throughout the boy’s body. By the time that Aaron finally pulled the marker away from his foot, it was almost over too soon. Brian laid with the sudden urge to surrender his other foot to be marked. Or his stomach. Or ribs or pits. The tickling, though starting out scary and demeaning, became a strangely engaging exchange between the two, it’s too-soon conclusion punctuated by the capping of the marker.

“There,” Aaron said. He stood up and let the marker drop back down next to Brian’s bag. Brian heaved. Sweat trickled down his body. He wiped a dense layer of it off of his brow as he turned over on the bench. He laid upright, staring up at the discolored locker room ceiling while he struggled to catch his breath. Brian reached up and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Aaron hovered over the boy. He stared down and watched Brian’s pathetic display with a smirk.

“C… can… can I… have my… phone back… now?” Brian huffed. “Pl-please… s-sir…” Aaron chuckled.

“Hm, cute,” he said. He pulled Brian’s phone out of his back pocket, holding it up for the boy to see. Aaron bent down by Brian’s face, looking down on him while Brian looked up from the bench seat. His other hand rose to cradle the side of Brian’s face.

Aaron felt the warmth of the boy’s cheek against his palm. His eyes met Brian’s shifting gaze, his stare long and dark. Brian noted that Aaron still smelt of some commanding cologne and musk mix. Aaron watched Brian’s supple lips tremble as his mouth was still parted, allowing deep breaths in and out. He bent down, letting his smirk brush against them in a forceful, yet tender embrace. Brian gasped slightly, but was far too weary in the moment to recoil or even question the exchange. He had been surrendering his ticklish areas to Aaron all afternoon, and thus giving in to the kiss came all but second nature. Never before had he experienced such a feeling, but Brian found himself kissing back, guided by Aaron’s more experienced approach. Aaron’s tongue slipped inside Brian’s mouth. Brian accepted willingly and wantingly. And once again, when Aaron ended it, he did far too soon for Brian. Aaron pulled back, still wearing that daring grin.

“If you want it back, you know what to do,” Aaron said. Aaron rose. He turned away from Brian and started for the door without looking back. He walked out of the locker room as casually as if it had been any other day, leaving Brian alone and staggered with racing thoughts and feelings.

His heart pounded. His mind spun around and around itself. He was left frozen in place, laying there against the bench in the locker room questioning everything that had just happened, everything that had ever transpired between him and Aaron. All of the petty bullying, the malicious taunting, the torment that Aaron had put him through over the years all came back to the forefront of his memory as if flipped upside down. He reached up to touch his lips, still tasting Aaron’s kiss. The ghosts of Aaron’s tickles, as well, left tingles all over Brian’s body that he knew he would never forget. It was minutes of recalling everything that had ever happened, of replaying the events of that very afternoon in his head for the eighth time, before Brian finally pushed himself up.

“Know… what to do?” Brian said aloud. At first, the suggestion gave Brian the images of something far more intimate and vulgar than tickling. The very thought of Aaron being so abrasive almost put a damper on the altercation all together. But as Brian sat up on the bench, the tingling came on most strongly against the one foot. Brian lifted it and draped it over one knee, getting to see what it was that Aaron had written across his sole.

‘92 Maple St, tomorrow @ 7pm,’ Aaron had written out on his foot. ‘My ticklish little’ with a small, crude drawing of a chocolate chip cookie on his heel.