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Panting, in the weak light. Then I'm drinking water...
Waiting for a smoke. But none comes.
"C'mon! Gimme a cigarette," Shon yells hoarsely. Great minds -
"What's the magic word?" the asshole taunts him.
"Uh... please."
"Please what?"
"Please! Let us have a ciga-"
"No."
I shut my eyes.
"C'mon -"
"Gonna get some real... hard... drives out of you two."
Of course. But it just makes my guts shrivel, all the same.
"You've been through five cartons - each - since you opened the door. Just since then. Gotta recuperate a little, boys... with some good old-fashioned hard work."
I make a whining sound -
"I said, no. Sneaky rabbits. Uh-huh. No more Winstons, and no more Camels... and you can forget about weed, too, while I'm in here."
We both start to complain.
"And we're gonna be here for a while." It lets loose with a wild-ass laugh.
That shuts us up.

"Yeeeah. Two hypersensitive rabbits. And me..."
That sentence definitely isn't finished yet. It hangs there.
Shon caves in first. "And?" Damn, he's wound up tight -
"And. Me, and... that's right... my best buddy."
Suddenly my stomach feels like it's full of ice.
"My road-dog, my associate, my partner in crime. Kidnapping. Unlawful imprisonment. Felonious finger-assault. Premeditated rubbery, with malice. Gross tickle-intimidation." It pauses, but I'm not a fool. I see Shon roll his eyes.
"Habitual socks-upender."
"Alright," I growl.
"Stop," D says.
"Tactile duress," it says dramatically. "Tickling so brutal... so depraved, it shocks the sensibilities of decent people."
I sigh, real hard. Can't help it.
"What do you think?," the tickler says, much more quietly. "Too much?"
"Nah. Okay."
That voice -
I close my eyes. Aw no. Hell.
"D?" Shon says, and he sounds worried.
As well he should be. I start yanking at the straps again -
Fingers... close around my meat.

"Thanks to Ciuna, I'm here. Tickling you senseless. But I have some help..."
"You... Look. It's too much. You hear me?"
"Deck. Hey," Shon whispers, real loud. "Easy -"
A glove takes hold of his meat too.
"How about if you two shut up. Okay? That's better. She could do little stuff at first. A finger here, a kiss there. But she wanted more. I can appreciate that point of view."
The gloves start working us up. A real smutty grunt bursts out of me. Too right. Fuck... The glove - this asshole knows how just to stroke me off. It's really got my number -
"She worked hard. Now I don't expect you to understand this. Shit - I don't claim to understand it, and it's me I'm talkin' about. My... creation." It sighs, pretty damn satisfied. Shon's gritting his teeth.
It's bugging me that this asshole knows its way around my cock...
"Ciuna, with the perfect nipples," - and D groans hopelessly - "borrowed energy from ol' Shon here. More, and more energy. One fine night, she had a lot of it... in play. And she brought Mr. Doran off. It was a fine orgasm."
He chuckles a few times.
"And the first thing I remember is that sensation. Flying. Hurdling free. I look, and there's ol' D... Originator Number One. He's collapsed on the bed, lookin' pretty wiped out. But that doesn't stop our girl Ciuna. She gets her claws up, like she's gonna dig in. Help herself."
The gloves slow down, and just hold us. I'm... very relieved.

"She's looking at him, and she really wants him to float on over... to her waiting fingers. How odd. She fully expected this to happen, just because she was concentrating on it. Now, I had a couple thoughts, right about then. I was curious, sure. But - but, dudes - I also saw why she wanted to get her paws on Shon. Checking inside him, I saw two huge drives. Didn't have names for 'em, at first. No more... and don't stop - both of 'em, there."
"Ciuna insisted that Shon be delivered into her hands. And I do mean that literally. Since he was... more fuckin' confused than she was, I went with her suggestion. I picked him up off the bed.
"He struggled - she told me to stop him. How to restrain him. So, what the hell. I looked in her, and saw what she meant. So I made some restraints. Invisible. Nice and tight. Bring me... his feet, she said. And damn, was I glad I did!
"Within the first ten seconds, I had a reason to exist."

"Terrific."
"Quiet, Buck-rabbit. Or I'll gag you... Aw hell, you guys - time for a cigar. I don't want to rush this.
"Within the first minute, I started helping her. She didn't know. Along the sides of your feet, D, 'cause she was enjoying your soles. And you reacted real nice! So I had a little fun with your nipples, and your neck, and all the rest of you.
"Within the first hour, I knew everything she knew. About tickling."
"She gave him a little break. I had to pause too, of course. Didn't want to give myself away. But it pissed me off... I mean, why stop? You gotta remember, Hare - I was new. But after a few seconds, ol' Buck gave me a real big fuckin' treat.
"He wanted something, right then. Real bad. It was a deep need... he wasn't even aware of it. But I couldn't make out what he was wantin'. She focused on a pack of cigarettes, sitting there. Wanting one to slide out, tap his front teeth. So I did. When he felt that tap, and saw the Winston he was about to smoke, two things rushed over him. Three, maybe. His weakest reaction had to do with... breathing. He was panting so hard, he didn't think he could smoke it right then. That was ridiculous, as you rabbits know.
"The first big urge was obvious. He wanted that fucker. Real hungry. But the next thought was almost as strong, and it puzzled me. I was fascinated by it. Hooked. Didn't really figure it out until later, though." The tickler throws in a dramatic pause. "Not only did he need to smoke - he knew it was only a few more minutes until it was gone again. He sucked on that thing like it was... a way out, but his thoughts jumped ahead to - more tickling! He played it even further for me. Cigarette, then no cigarettes because he was gonna laugh so fuckin' hard, then another cigarette, then more tickling.
"I got the wrong idea, but I liked it. Tickling always follows smoking. And I really thought he believed that..."
Shon looks totally confused -
I clear my throat.
"Question, in front? Deck?"
"You could see that wasn't true. The next day -"
"Uh-huh. But not my first night. Later, I decided a smoke wasn't immediately followed by more tickling. He could smoke all day, and I'd think, alright, there's another confirmation. You smoke, I'm gonna tickle ya. Later. Oh, yeah. When I had him to myself, I made it clearer. Here ya go, Shon - you smoke up, and when this cigarette is gone... the fingers will start back in."
There was a pause. "No, Deck, you're still not getting it right. Hmmmm... Buck. Ol' Buck-rabbit, my best pal. There was a set of words. A... realization. You thought it that first night, real hard. Every time since. You think it just about every time I stick a cigarette in your mouth."
He's looking at me, real pissed off.
"Say it," the tickler says. Calmly. "Or get nuked. Twenty-four hours straight."
"Shit..." He looks at the ceiling. "Ain't over yet."
"Ex-act-ly. Thank you, Ain't over yet. The tickling. I love how you always think that. So I made it an accurate prediction. That's what a smoke meant, to me. Every one of 'em. Saying, maybe four minutes from now, or four days... but this rabbit's surely gonna get tickled again."
"Got it," I sigh. "That clears it right up."
A few seconds of silence crawl by. "You got a mouth on ya. Deck." It makes a fairly decent throat-clearing noise. "So. For the next few days, I tickled this son of a bitch every minute I could. Slipping the whore a little something extra, so she'd quit ordering me around. Make her sleep like she was in a coma. I started feeding him, kept the water coming... and he smoked his head off. Oh, yeah. I loved it. The only time I held off was when he was just too worn out, or when Ciuna was getting ready to begin. Didn't want to blow my cover yet... It was hilarious - she thought she was controlling me! I did what she asked, and then some. And then some more. She was so easy to fool. Drugged-out zombie. When I kept adding suggestions that she was sleepy, so she'd hurry up and pass out, leave me alone with him... it worked pretty damn well."

"She knew -"
"Y'know, Buck... She didn't. I don't think she was on to me. I really don't. You made a few complaints - why was she messin' with you when she wasn't even there... couldn't she give you one fuckin' night to just sleep - but they sailed right over her head. She was wrecked, buddy. All the time.
"She started out fantasizing about magic. Levitate you, way off the mattress. Hold your limbs tight. And then, just... create a hand. Magic hand. Invisible. Okay, hand, you go play with him. Jack him off - slowly. Teasing. Wouldn't that be cool? She could go take a leak, get a beer, and the hand would just keep torturing your cock. And more is better, right? Two hands. Four. Eight. Hee hee hee.
"Your sweetie concentrated on that fantasy so much, it became real. Wrong combination of drugs, at the right time. It happened. One hand - and it really was her doing. She worked her ass off. Okay, now I want you to rub his balls, nice and slow, while I go watch an infomercial. And Shon, he couldn't move. Stuck there. She still had to keep thinking about the hand, all the time. And the magic restraints.
"That gentle hand... and then another. And his feet were just hanging there. Ignored. And he was sooooo ticklish. Now wouldn't that be a rush. Tickling his feet... Holding 'em perfectly still. Way beyond hysterical - for hours. So she thought up a pair of hands, just for that." It pauses, almost thoughtfully. And snorts once. "And that was amazing. Immobilization, and extravagant tickling, made him come like a stallion. They still do. So she made more and more hands. After all, tickling made him crazier than... just milking. You follow me? And it was so ironic to her. He's so together, any other time. The total pro.

"Hell, any guy can be milked all night. But your feet, Shon. Whoa. You just come unglued. So I'd make you yelp for her, and set my attention on getting her to nod off. That bought you time. A couple smokes. You'd start to relax, thinking it was over for the night. And then - total carnage. I got to call the shots. Your feet belonged to me, for a few hours. And your cock.
"My biggest problem was your fuckin' voice. But I don't have to tell you, Hare. That voice of his can drive a man to drink. I had the dubious job of making sure he didn't laugh his voice away. He had to work, back then. After my first night, he was definitely too hoarse. So I thought it over. Either I had to make him laugh more quietly - during the mad-dog tickling, after she passed out - or else he wasn't gonna be permitted to laugh at all. After a couple nights I had it down. Learning how to tickle the shit out of him, with no laughing - that was pretty straightforward. And he could smoke more. While I tickled him. But you know what I like just as well? The silent kind. Loud laughing is definitely best... any kind. Agonized roars. But if that isn't an option, I just make him roar silently. I did that a lot... Nudged him on up to that happy place. Yeah. He's a real amused fucker, just puffing air, as if his voice was already laughed out. Gimme a half-hour straight, Buck. Nice and silent. Have yourself a smoke. Suck down some water. Now, I want another half-hour just like the last one...
"I'd study him. And her. Listen to what was goin' on in your heads. See, I had to learn about time. Schedules. Mainly - when I could tickle him again. He feared the thought, and she... savored it. Very nice. I worked on understanding when he had to pull himself together and clean up, go somewhere... the shoot, or a meeting, a premiere... But you never stopped there, Shon. Lucky for me. You'd review your schedule, in your head - and make an estimate of when you'd be home. I gotta be there, and then I gotta go this other place... and I gotta memorize lines, but just to be safe I better sit in my car and do it, and... shit, I can't put it off much later than nine. Dammit. Nine to... what, four? That's seven hours. I can't take it. Seven hours of tickling. Intense... Fuckin' hell."
He nods, not lookin' too happy.

"You tried to be careful. Real cautious. It was such a hoot to watch. But I already knew how long we were gonna boogie. And when she'd be home - or when she thought she'd be home. Not too punctual, our girl. I learned I could just tack on two hours to whenever she planned on coming home. Yes indeed. I knew how long I had before I had to let go of you... and I spent my spare time planning just how I wanted to spend those hours.
"You carried a baseball bat in, once... Dude, it was hilarious. Like that was gonna help. I held off that night for a couple hours. Just lettin' you twist in the wind. You smoked the whole time, one after the other... Every cigarette tellin' me that major tickling just had to follow. I had the night all planned out... Couple hours before the alarm went off, I'd tickle you awake, get a cigarette going... and then start real slow and easy, one finger on each foot.
"Hey. I know..." Water bottles came up. Our cigars were pulled out, waiting patiently while we drank. Then they jammed back between our teeth. "There. I'm going to tell you my favorite story from the early days. I want you to listen up, now. Listen, and learn."

"The nice long weekend... So many firsts. Now, Buck, you know I've watched the images scroll through your head. A hundred times, just since I got in here. So realistic...
"You just smoke up, and let me tell it to Deck.
"He ducked in the front door, one day - just to grab a script. Grab it and run. It was early in the afternoon. Maybe he'd get away with it, right? Catch me off-guard. He was lookin' real scared...
"Ahhh. Okay. Start at the start. There was big fuckin' tickling, of course. That's where it starts, then. A fine Thursday morning. Only three hours of fun, 'cause she got up early. She didn't wake him up. The past few days, she'd been nodding off in her favorite chair, instead of climbing in next to him. Buck got some sleep, at last. Two whole hours. But at five on the dot his driver honked, out front. He didn't move. She got out of the car and pounded on the door. And she could pound loud, let me tell you. She calls the set, they call Shon. Like, five times. He finally came to - groaning his head off - and told 'em alright already, he was up, just send the car away and he'd drive himself in."
He sighs hard, nodding. Like a puzzle had just been solved...

"And I rode in with him. To the set. I'd never done that before... On the car seat, next to his smokes, there was his script sittin' there. But it was the wrong version, because I'd switched 'em. I know - not much chance that's gonna work. But hey. He went to makeup, and then he sat in his trailer. And he smoked. I caught another break, then, because they decided to shoot a different set first. They were all sorry, bowing and scraping, but it turned out there were no scenes for him that day.
"To keep him happy, they arranged it so he wasn't needed on Friday, either. Break number three. And Buck, he immediately thought about tickling. Uh-oh. Thursday night, Friday... The rabbit got worried." It chuckles at the memory.
"I didn't need to be told twice. Friday! So I expanded my plans. Ciuna would be coming home that night, Thursday, at some point. But she'd go to work early on Friday, while he was still asleep. And he forgot... about the rave. She'd only told him, like, five times. It was the most excited I'd ever seen her. No way she was gonna miss that. It was part of a... festival, of some kind. Friday... to Sunday.
"But she'd only planned to be there on Friday. Friday night. I saw her thinking - Saturday, long night, lots of tickling for my dude. Make him wail. But Friday night was all hers...

"Shon didn't know that. He sat there in his trailer, looking at the producer... and all he could think was 'tickling, Friday, tickling'. Didn't let it show. He was just about ready to scream... Then he thought, 'hotel'. Now, I didn't know that word... but I saw him think of a bed. Nice big bed. He just wanted to get some sleep. But I didn't think so. Hey, a bed? Alright. I'm there.
"He relaxed a little, then. Looking forward to sleeping. Fired up a doob, and ran his lines... But he kept thinking about his toothbrush. His sweats, sittin' there in his dresser at home. Stupid shit like that. And he nodded off.
"So I said, hey, here's an opportunity. I thought about taking off his shoes... but that 'hotel' idea was interesting. I could see him stripping down, crawling under the sheet gratefully - and jumping as I grabbed his ankles. Let him know he wasn't getting away from me that easily...
"And since he'd be laughing in a different setting, I could spice things up. So I hid his keys, and his wallet. And I went to the store. Three stores, actually. I helped myself to some feathers, and oil. Rubber gloves... and, what the hell, I grabbed some rubber sheets. Silk scarves. Then a different store. Guy stuff. A kind of vibrator I'd never seen - but I was thinking about how his fuckin' nipples would dig it. More oil. And in a cubbyhole, toward the back - I found it. Paydirt. Now we're talkin'. The real thing... Cuffs. Thick cuffs. Wide straps. All kinds of leather stuff. And there was no way I was leavin' there without a couple sets. I mean, all he'd known was restraints he couldn't see. I was just blown away by the thought of showing him the real thing. The cuffs - real cuffs - and real straps. Take that. Now you're gonna lay there and squeal.

I got the impression he expected to sleep all night, at this hotel. No Ciuna barging in. And I could get just enough of the picture to understand no one would bother us. Now remember, I'd never tickled him for more than eight hours straight. I was lookin' at a least a day - or two. Maybe more. Very exciting shit. So I made one more stop. Got him some food, and whiskey. Two cartons of smokes.
"I raced back, and he was awake. He was all worked up - over the script. He caught on, at some point. Memorizing the wrong version, dammit. I saw him picture the current one - he'd been doodling on the cover, right? And he was sure it was at home... But no way was he goin' back there...
"And then he almost caught me - sneaking the boxes into his trunk. He stomped out to get another copy of the script. But the third AD was nowhere to be found, and nobody had a spare one. The director offered to hand his over... but the other AD's didn't know how to work the damn copier. Break number four, for me...
"The director told him to go on home - and man, did he twitch! A copy would be messed over as soon as they found the third AD. He didn't want to say he was afraid to go to his own fuckin' house. Nah, don't bother, I got my copy there already. I'm just gonna take off... And go to a hotel, he thought. But he didn't say it. Break number five - no messenger comin'.
"He was worried. And that pissed him off even more. He wanted to go to a hotel and sleep - and he wanted his own fuckin' toothbrush. A change of clothes. And his script... He thought about sending Ciuna home to pack a bag, but I tried dropping that 'tickling - Friday - tickling' idea back into his thoughts. And it worked! Y'know, Deck, he didn't really feel like talkin' to her after all...

"He thought about getting you to do it. But you were in the lab all day. He'd almost decided to track you down, and all I had to do was throw the idea of the hotel room back at him. His version - not mine. Comfortable, quiet. No expert fingers. That's all it took. He wanted to lie down worse than anything. I wanted that too.
"I'd put his wallet and keys back where he left 'em. He hesitated, before he left the trailer. So tired. Hotel, good... no toothbrush, bad. No script. And then he did it... Wonderful rabbit... The biggest break of all. He got angry again. And went with it. It made no sense to me - it still doesn't! Now, Buck, you knew what was waiting... Why the fuc-"
"I was stoned," he says uncertainly.
"Or maybe, at some level, you wanted me to get'cha. Whatever. You made up your mind. No way you were gonna get run off from your own fuckin' house. Not that it mattered. Wherever he went, I was gonna tickle him - at least through to Saturday morning... Oh yeah. Guess what he did next. He jumped in the car. Drove home, And boy, was he determined. Wasn't gonna get caught...

"He got off the freeway, and he actually scared me. He had another idea. 'Crash at D's place'. Uh-oh. You were just another face to me, at the time. I know ya so much better now, esse... Could be trouble, I thought. But I wasn't sure. If nothing else, I'd miss out on hours of tickling, until I could get you to pass out. And the location wasn't as exciting as the hotel. Or D's room.
"I had to distract him, before he picked up the phone. I reminded him he was angry, but that wasn't cuttin' it. The script. Hell, I reminded him of his toothbrush...
"It wasn't enough. I thought of all that fun in the trunk of the car. I wanted every hour I could get... And I had to get him off-track. He was grinding away at 'tickling, Friday, tickling'. So I took a wild guess. 'Run out of my own fuckin' house.' And that got him. Break number... what, seven? Right?
"That was just the lever I was looking for. He slipped the door key off his key ring, and rehearsed his plan a couple times. Some plan. He acted as if he wasn't scared. That kept him going. So he gunned it up the driveway, and skidded right up to the front door. It looked cool. Half on the walkway, half on the lawn. Then he jumped out, with the car still running, and he ran like the wind.
"He threw that door open, and got the alarm code in. First try. And then he turned - and saw the script.
"Oh, yeah. Right in the hallway, there. Eye-level, just hangin' around. You, uh, lookin' for this, Buck?

"And his eyes got huge! Well, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and held on. Popped his car into reverse, headed for the garage - and he got feisty, just a little too late. I unloaded the trunk, and scanned the neighborhood as the garage door went down. Nobody looking. I already knew that, but it gave me a little kick as I waited for the door to close. I didn't let him move from where he was standing, with the door just out of reach. Aaaawww. Nothing else to grab onto, either. I made him look at the script... as it fell. No running lines tonight - or tomorrow.
He was yelling, of course, but the past few days had cut his volume way down. And he had that nice big lawn. I brought him a cigarette. Gave him a light. And it was a very special cigarette, far as I was concerned. My promise to him. My Buck-rabbit. He was home, and no one was going to bother us. This weekend, off and on, we were gonna spend some real serious time together. He knew what was gonna come after that smoke... I held him tight, and closed the door. Locked it up. Activated the alarm.
"I made him walk his ass into the bedroom. One foot after the other, Shon. Smoke up. At a minimum, I was gonna get busy in a few minutes, wear him out so that Ciuna would leave him alone. And then we had all day Friday. Half of Saturday. Right there, on my home turf. After a few steps, he whimpered - and he sagged. Oh, yeah. That's right. Move along. No possible way to get out of it. The new stuff I'd got was already sitting on the chair. Ciuna's favorite chair. The blinds were drawn tight...
"Oh, it was incredible. Walking him in. The first room I ever saw. And he had been really looking forward to the hotel, too. He had this little fantasy going - safe, there. In the hotel. No tickling. And then I went and ruined his whole day.

"I figured on her coming home late. Her usual pattern. So I saw nothing to prevent me from getting seven or eight meaningful hours. Big fun. He'd be snoring when she got up, so he'd sleep through his only chance to beg. Too late, after she went to work. Nobody else would know what kind of day he was having. Days. Friday morning, we'd get an early start... and Ciuna would be going to the rave that night. Every time I thought it through, I laughed - to myself. Buck laying there, having a barbaric night, just longing for her to come home. Never remembering the rave. No Ciuna tonight, my increasingly ticklish rabbit. No Ciuna tomorrow morning. If only he'd been awake, before she left! Not that she would've stayed home, or anything. But he missed his chance to beg her. Plead for his sanity. Please, babe, stop it. Please. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't leave me here... Please...
"But as soon as her car pulled out, the party was on. Just him, and me, until Saturday afternoon.

"They both had an impressive selection of toys and gear - in their heads. I didn't know how to use it, or what it was called. But I was in love. I'd already been experimenting with the feel of things. Techniques. And Shon always let me know when I had the right idea. He taught me well. Y'know? So did you, Hare.
"I'd fumble around, and he was real helpful. Reporting on the action. I just watched what he was thinking. You know how it goes, right? Let's see... Shit, shit, Oh now, wait... fuck, aw fuck, what... those can't be... they can't. Oh shit. They are. Nipple clamps. They hurt - whew. Better... No, take 'em off. Off! Fuck. Still there. Still on me. Get 'em... off. What? What is that? Oh, no. Fuck, no, no... That's gotta be a scarf. No. Don't - dammit!
Is that silk? It is. It's silk. Feels just like... No! Oh, fuck, I can't stand that! Can't see it... My toes. Which toes? That one, and - oh shit! It's horrible... Middle toe. Fourth toe. Dragging a fuckin' silk scarf between my... Naaaaaw! Oh, fuck, oh fuck... Stop it. Stop! I can't... I can't - what is that? A fly? Bigger. Aaawww shit... That's a brush. Gotta be. Oh, no. Get away - from my ears... Invisible brushes. I can't... can't - Oh, man. They're... soft. Fur, maybe. Go away! Fur brushes..."
It stops talking, and chortles. Embarrassed, or a perfect imitation of it.
"Whew. Sorry, Deck. Got a little carried away, there."

"Let me see. Buck, Thursday afternoon... I shoved him down on the bed. Pulled all his clothes off, laid him out... And I reached into one of my big new boxes. Clinked the booze bottles, so he'd look over there. And watch. And you know he did. I made him wait another second... and then I hauled out one of those beeee-utiful straps. Let it uncoil, slowly.
"And he froze. Gave me a real fuckin' charge, to read his thoughts right about then. He hated 'em. Frankly, I'm better at holding him still. But the cuffs, going on one by one... and the straps, so tight... Well, they were a powerful message. You're staying. Oh yeah. Right here, on this bed. And you know why.
"When he was pinned to my satisfaction, I showed him a couple of feathers... And I closed that door.

"Ol' D here was a wild man. He wanted outa there. And those fine-lookin' straps weren't gonna permit it. They weren't just for show. My feathers were getting closer, and closer. And he's thinking no no no no, aw hell, Friday too... And he just pictured it like it was never gonna end. Just stuck right there, as if time stopped, just so the tickling could keep going. Harsh, and intense...
"He paid attention to his feet, then. Didn't thrash around as much - but he kept his feet movin'. As much as he could. Now, before that day, I always let him do it. It helped me out when I was just getting to know him. If I was tickling him right, all that fidgeting would stop, so I knew that stroke was a winner. But I looked at his feet, there, held down by the cuffs... And I stopped the feathers. Just for a second. You know. I got an idea. So I made a pair of hands - like Ciuna's. Narrower than his. Smaller fingers. I curled 'em around his ankles, real slow. Half-on, half-off the cuffs. And I held on real tight.
He lifted his head, looked down there. Tried to move his feet around - but I didn't let him. That worried him even more. And he blamed her again... Ciuna, no. Please. And he stared. Fuck. He got the message. Hey, I brought cuffs for you, and I trust 'em. But you better remember who's boss, here. Stayin' right on ya, dude, just like before. I don't need the restraints to get what I'm after. Just wanted you to have 'em.
"He tried and tried, but he couldn't bend his ankles any more. That made him whine. Scaredy-rabbit. Heels hangin' off the end of the mattress. But his toes kept moving, like they wanted to be somewhere else. Crinkling up his soles. I thought that was way too much movement, so I put a couple more hands to work.
I set 'em down on the top-side of each of my targets, with my thumbs next to his big toes. Just a little pressure, on the pinky-toes, with the side of my hands. I didn't clamp down or anything... But I made it real clear. He was wiggling those toes too fuckin' much. I was gonna keep him in his place, alright. So I squeezed - not hard at all, really. But enough. There they were. Ready for action. I got down to it.

"So the first time I used real feathers, it was a huge hit. If only you knew how much fun it is - I mean, gettin' busy with a couple more hands on his belly, and a couple on his pecs... while the feathers stayed on his midfeet, nice and solid. Nuke the bastard.
"And I had other new stuff for him. Like, two hours in... I let him catch his breath, watched him smoke, and then... Heya, Buck, you just take a long, hard look at these. Yeah. Oh, yeah. They're satin. Finally, some hands you can actually watch. Ain't they pretty? Nice and white? They're gonna fuck you up bigtime. Everywhere. I'm just gonna pull 'em on... Six of 'em. All these fingers... So - you ready to laugh like you mean it? Are ya? Let's see. What they feel like... right on these touchy feet. Yeah. Oh, c'mon, you're not goin' anywhere. Not now. Here they come...

"Eventually, I figured something out. Another reason why I was havin' such a great time... way better than usual. Wanna know why? 'Cause it was just him, and me. No Ciuna there. He couldn't wait for her to get home, though... and he still thought she was tickling him. Like she thought up a plan, kicked it into gear - and went to work. What she wanted would just happen to him, even if she wasn't there. Crazy shit. She had him whipped, I tell ya.
"He pictured you a few times, Hare. And some other people. The gardener... the director of that picture he was workin' on. Oh, if only somebody would show up, unexpectedly, and break into his house. Come and undo the straps. So he wouldn't have to get tickled any more. Aaaaaww. Anybody. But you never did shit like that, Deck. You respected his privacy. Not without checkin' in with him first. I appreciated that, let me tell you. Fuck, would he have been glad to see ya, right about then. But the house was locked, the alarm was on, and nobody was gonna distract Shon. No way. It wasn't about some candy-ass teasing, after Ciuna fucked him... This was big-league. The invisible hands were still right there, on him. They even brought boxes full of kinky shit. So the weekend was obviously gonna rock.

"About... oh, four hours in, she called. But I'd already unplugged the phone in his room. Of course.
"She called three times altogether. Each message sounded more and more ticked off. I almost wish I'd kept that last one, to play for ol' Buck sometimes. He was way too involved with the vibrator to speak. He never heard the phone in the kitchen, either, 'cause I'd unplugged it after her first call. I didn't want him getting any ideas. We had a nice little illusion going, there... Well, anyway. That last message, on Thursday, maybe nine o'clock at night... Where the fuck are you, don't be such a dick... I heard you're not coming to the set tomorrow, and babe I can totally understand you needin' to get some sleep, but dammit, I'm not gonna... You know what? I'm goin' to the Glacier, go dancing, and then I'm gonna crash at my sister's. You wanna talk to me, call me at work. No, I got it. Fuck you. I'm going shopping after work. I'm getting whatever I want for the rave, you bastard. And you're gonna pay every bill I hand you if you ever wanna think about see my clit again. I'll be at my sister's tonight...

"But Buck-rabbit didn't hear any of that. I counted the hours over and over. Thursday afternoon... to Saturday afternoon. Real cuffs, real feathers. Oil!
"And I thought there was at least a fifty-fifty chance she'd stay mad... when he didn't call her back. Stay away Saturday too, babe. Got it covered. Leave him to me.
"Right away, I pulled off him. The whole game plan had to be changed... and I wanted him to get some sleep. Five, six hours. And he knew something was up.

"Where the hell is she? He kept thinking that. Holding on to the idea that she had to show him pity, at some point. And he wondered that same thing when I woke him up. All day Friday, actually. By Saturday, he never thought about her anymore...
Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. He woke up - four in the morning, on Friday. I'd already washed him up, and moisturized his skin. He'd never woken up in restraints before. And damn, he was one frantic dude. Boy. He yelled and snapped... worked at it. So I waited for him to settle down. No rush...
Ciuna didn't come home, and that bugged the shit out of him. That wasn't like her - and the same night all the cuffs and feathers were there, waiting. The same day he got home way earlier than usual - and the hands were waiting for him. Fuck. He was doomed.
All day - a whole long day full of - aw, now where the hell was she? Why would she start this hardcore bondage shit... real feathers, those fuckin' shiny gloves... dammit... and then just stay away? She had to have gone straight to work from wherever the fuck she was last night, while he was strapped down. And it was Friday. Oh, fuck no. No! He wasn't needed on the set. Until she came home - and he had to convince her to call it off, he just had to - he was stuck. Strapped down, this time. Really caught. Yeah, ol' Buck got it right. The tickling was just gonna go on, all day, and he was gonna go completely fuckin' nuts...

"But I'd never let that happen. I gave him some water... and a smoke. I saw him think it again - oh no, real soon now, tickling after the smoke's done - and I looked around his room, happier than I'd ever been.
"Feathers, for a while. Then my fingers. He gave up trying to predict where they were gonna land next. I drilled him for a few hours. The sheet was a mess. His stomach was rumbling...
"I let him doze, and cleaned him up again. You guys really are a pain to keep around. You know that? I learned how to work the washing machine. Cooked him up some breakfast. French toast. Scrambled eggs. Lots of eggs. And I felt something new, as I carried the tray in. I liked taking care of his ass. In every way. If I was gonna leave him strapped down, I had to pick up the slack. But I was motivated.

He saw the food, and tried to wrestle around... And it took me a while to figure out why. He had to eat. I was gonna do whatever it took to keep on tickling. Even maid service. I had the old sheets in the dryer, and clean sheets under him. A good, hot meal that I'd cooked - well, it all came together for D first. He was there for the long haul...
"I had at least twenty-one hours before she showed her face in there. His hero. He thought she was doing all the tickling... and the ironic thing was, my only reason for backing off was so I could hide the restraints before she walked in.
"He ate, like a good rabbit. Drank his coffee. Smoked his cigarettes...
"And he watched a package rise, way up in the air, as I picked it up. Opened it. Unfolded it.
"Another fine expression of disbelief, as he figured out what it was. A rubber sheet.

"I was gentle, sliding it under him. He still cussed and frowned when it grabbed his body hair - obviously I'd have to do something about that, someday. Buck tugged on his smoke and fidgeted like a mutherfucker. Watching the boxes, real close...
"So I got out the oil. And the brushes. He went nuts. I hadn't even opened 'em yet - the artist's brushes, nice fur, and a quart of massage oil. The straps got a workout, let me tell you.
"I'd brought a spare bowl in, just for this. Out went the tray, into the hall. But not the bowl. I held it up, and closed the door. Brought it over, filled it with oil. And when I dipped a pair of brushes in, and held them just over his toes, I had this huge feeling blow through me. About Shon. Later on, I figured out what it was. I was grateful. That moment was perfect in every way...

"I started oiling him - just over his heels. And he lost it! Delirious, immediately - and I was sold. Jazzed. Now this was a whole new... range. It was king-size. And it was mine for the taking.
I painted his feet carefully, and he had to catch his breath before I moved on. Just had to. And so, another smoke. Ain't over yet. Hell, no. Friday afternoon, Friday night, Saturday morning. At least part of Saturday afternoon.
"Took me an hour to oil him up. Then I opened another package. Stiffer brushes. Like very small toothbrushes. Into the oil, and over to his soles -
"And this fucker went up another level."
His hair moves, weirdly, like it's being mussed up.

"Damn, I thought... How many levels is this fucker hiding? Heh.
"I took those stiffer brushes all the way up him. With one area skipped, and I'll bet you can guess which one. I filled up the bowl with oil, for the third time, and got out some surgical gloves.
"Two more slow, full circuits. A whole pack of cigarettes. And ol' Shon was beyond desperate. You've seen him like that. Coldwater. He would've given me anything, just to cum. I thought it was time. Four hours, all that oil. He'd be more ticklish than ever, right after he got off! I picked up the feathers again, and got out some more. Six. Brushing the only area on him that hadn't been treated to the oil. He smoked while the feathers made him pay attention. Then the soft brushes...
"He was trying so hard, I didn't want to risk the firm brushes. So everything went away. He got a new smoke. And I pulled on two rubber gloves. Dunked 'em in the oil...

"Ol' Shon shook his head. But I knew better. I did my best to make him last, but he only made it a few minutes. He arched real nice, with his limbs still flat, and he yelled...
"I was ready. Four feathers. Two for each foot.

"Another half-hour, and he was fading. I watched him slide under, and took his cigarette. Pulled the sheet and washed it. Washed him up again. And I just hung there for a bit, admiring the view.
"He was out of eggs, though. I was thinking, steak and eggs. Let him sleep 'til, oh, seven. Feed him. Vitamins - and the speed I'd found in Ciuna's panty drawer. Five hours of fun, maybe four hours of sleep, and I could still get a good six or seven before she even thought about waking up.
"Clearly he wasn't goin' anywhere. I slipped out. Got him a whole lotta eggs. And I had another idea...

"I found his drill. He snored away the afternoon, while I did a little... installing. When I woke him up, the door was open and dinner was waiting. He still had to flail around for awhile, though. You rabbits - honestly.
"He didn't seem to appreciate the bottle of whiskey. But he threw back a couple shots, just the same. When his smoke was about halfway gone, I picked up a flashlight. Pointed it at the door.
"At the corner - not the side with the hinge. You picturing this okay, Deck?... Yeah. Now, picture a deadbolt lock. Only, turn it. I installed a lock for his room. The bolt didn't slide in to the side of the doorframe, though. This one slid out of the top... of the door.
"I know you got the idea, Hare. But let me just bask in my own wonderfulness for a sec. I wasn't really interested in the security. Fuck, you've stared at much safer doors than that. On the wrong side, laid out... My main c- what the hell am I saying? My only concern was his whore. Monday, Shon had to go to work. That was a given. But she would wander in at some point. I wasn't ready to tip her off, or make her stay out of his room. And it didn't occur to me to tie her up somewhere... uh, at least not yet.
No, I just needed to slow her down. With some soap and water handy, a clean sheet, I thought I could clean him up real quick, whip off the straps - though I did like the idea of leaving the cuffs on, so she'd get some interesting ideas. Hide my toys. She could pull on the door for a minute, and I'd do what I could to make it seem as though he hadn't been getting his ass handed to him for the last day and a half...

"Anyway. I saved the outer veneer, and glued it all around the keyhole. Unless comebody looked close, they wouldn't see it. Way up there. Or the bolt - until the door came down. And it would keep people out until I removed all the evidence that I was even there. It made me happy that the lock was way out of Buck's reach. It was my lock. And from the inside, the bedroom-side of the door, there was no sign it was even there. I did a fine job.
"He watched a key saunter up there, slide in - and snap. I'd worked on it with a hacksaw... I could turn it, but they couldn't. He gulped, so nice. I was determined to make him forget about the lock - before he called a locksmith. But that wouldn't help him much - sure, a lock up there is weird, but it doesn't prove anything. Maybe it was from the last guy who owned the house. He could have the lock taken out, but I was ready to put new ones back in, every time.
"I had ol' Shon light a new smoke off the last one... and I shut the door. Locked it. There ya go, Buck. You're on the wrong side of the keyhole. No exit for you... Well, I cracked open a new bottle of oil, and picked up a few feathers.
"And his feet were soooooo damn sensitive, after the last round. The feathers were a big hit. I just blew about two hours with 'em, lots of smoke breaks, lots of water. And then I'd start in again. Oil, soft brushes, and firmer brushes, then rubber gloves again. Another mighty cum-shot. And forty-five minutes of nice, solid, full-body tickling...

"I let him sleep again. So very carefully, I took her razors to him. Ankles. Legs. Mr. Doran is already known for his smooth, perfect abs - and chest. I didn't even have to shave his armpits. There was just a little hair on the top-sides of his feet, though, and I wanted it to go.
"Then I rustled up some grub. One long session left. I was playing it safe. I had seven hours, maybe eight... and he wasn't going to sleep through any of it. Not if I could help it. I was going to pull out all the fuckin' stops. I wasn't going to let him laugh, because he had to recover enough to go back to that big Hollywood picture on Monday...

"As I was scrambling more eggs, the answering machine clicked. I threw a whole bunch of kitchen towels on top of it, to make sure he couldn't hear. It was the woman I love to hate... And you know I was hanging on her every word. Short message - slurred message. Not a happy girl. But she didn't tell me what her plans were, damn her...
"I brought him another steak. Big mug of coffee, half-full - just so I could top it off with Jack Daniels, while he watched. Vitamins, plenty of speed. And when he'd drained the mug, and took another needy drag off his Winston, I carried the tray out again. He watched the door close, real slow. Heard it lock. I cruised back over to him. Originator-One. Smooth fucker with a cigarette in his mouth, heavy restraints on his limbs, and the most hilarious pained expression on his face. Ain't over yet.

"Well, I outdid myself. He squirmed until he just couldn't pull on the straps any more. Laid out there, while I gave him every texture I could come up with. Real and... invisible. Silk, rubber, fingernails, feathers, brushes and more brushes, satin, leather. A whole slew of hands. All over. Hell, I even let him cum... I'd moved his clock to the floor, so he wouldn't stare at it.
"Four more hours to go. And then she'd stumble in, and I'd have to wait, like, another eight hours for her to nod off. Then I could unroll the straps again. It was the biggest rush... I made those last hours the best ones. Blistering, and I mean that figuratively, of course...
"At two-fourteen, Saturday afternoon, the answering machine clicked. I pulled some brushes off, and had four gloves oil up and lay into his pecs. Then I zipped out to listen. She was still cursing her head off when I got there. If that's the way it was, she was goin' back to the rave tonight. She'd see him on the set. Click!

"Saturday afternoon, Saturday night, Sunday morning, Sunday afternoon, Sunday night. Monday morning, early. From the time he pulled up until the time I put my toys away... Eighty-four hours. I figured, oh, thirty-six hours of that was spent sleeping, or eating. Smokin' like a chimney. Watching the door close... I let him sleep a little more, so he could drag himself to the set. On Monday.
"Hated to do it, though..."

D kicks out a nervous sigh.
"If three days - three and a half! - were that much fun... how about seven? Or fourteen?"
The more... dangerous voice starts to laugh. As if it just bowled a third strike.
"Thirty?"

"And so on," D snapped.
"Aaaaaaand so on. But I let you rest up, didn't I? Afterward? Hell, I didn't touch you for three whole days. It was hard, let me tell you... I made sure Ciuna slept a lot. That wasn't hard. Shit, she was so fucked up on 'shrooms that your make-up sex was a joke. Both of you, worn out, bumping like machines. You came home Monday in a cab. Late. Drunk off your ass. You weren't so fuckin' arrogant then, were ya? Whole different attitude. Li'l rabbit was starting to get the picture. Ain't nowhere near over yet.
"By Thursday, she'd forgiven you enough to tickle your ass. And I did everything I could to make you associate the ghostly fingers with her. It was mild - well, compared to the weekend before. A gentle night. I held you immobile, over the chair... And you know what? I got your number, Buck-rabbit. Clearer than ever. See, Deck, your buddy the egomaniac gave in. He knew the tickling was going to keep happening, and keep happening, and there was nothing he could do to make it stop. He understood. So he ended up really getting into it. That's how he copes. He eats it up. Sex, and tickling, and how hot it made her. No wonder he kept her around. So it's always time for another Winston... and more tickling. Keeping it light had another great effect on him - relief. I didn't understand it, but that's where he was at. Maybe the worst is over now. Maybe, maybe, the long weekend was the worst it's gonna get... Dumb fuck. That just made me dream of ways to make it more and more intense. And your guard was down...

"The next day, I got out the heavy artillery. She tickled you for an hour, and dozed off. I propped her up in her chair, moved her head a little... and I gave you seven lusty hours. I outdid myself. If I could've kept her from waking up, I had Saturday and Sunday booked solid. Just for you. Full days.
"But she wouldn't stay under. So there was a pause in the action, and y-"
"Wait," Shon says. "I don't get it. I was sure..."
"Sure of what?"
"That night -" He slams his head against the mattress. "Oh, fuck. Dammit, D. I'm too stupid to live."
"This oughta be good," the voice says near my head - like we're in a huddle. Then, louder, "Let's skip my usual taunts about how long your life is gonna be, and how delirious. Say it. Out loud."
He looks at me, and scowls. "Unbelievable. At first, I thought it was a nightmare. I was just havin' a real bad dream. Always dark, with her in the room... The long weekend shot the fuck out of that theory." He looks around, searching the ceiling as if he could find the tickler. "But I still thought she was doin' it!"
"Aaaalll of it?" Vex taunts.
"Yeah."
"Then I did my job right. That's just what I wanted you to think. Blame her. Get the idea that the tickling wasn't gonna stop, even after you kicked her out. Good man."
"Steady, D," I said.
"Yeah. Take a couple deep puffs. You get it, Deck, don'tcha? Language was still new to me. I could read their minds, sorta, but all I could do in the way of planting thoughts was to... recycle theirs."
"Huh?"
"Tickling, Friday, tickling," Shon says bitterly.
"Oh."

"The next morning, you fired up a smoke... and grabbed for the phone. Even before you got up to take a leak. Ain't over yet, buddy. You called this one guy. Big, greasy biker type. I'd seen him a couple of times before. Planted in the living room like he was never gonna leave, making me wait to get at you... Always smokin'."
Ain't over yet, the lower voice whispers - in my head. Ghostly. And certain.
"And the Buck-rabbit lies to his woman. Told her he was goin' to check out some baseball cards..."
We look at each other.

I blink a couple times. "Y-... You rode along!"
"Oh, shit," he sighs.
"The second I saw your face, Hare - I mean, that instant. Perfect. Sitting in the shitkicker bar in Mesquite, when it dawned on you... what Buck meant. Tickling. Oh, fuck, no. Not that! Aaaannything but that. I'd go nuts..."
Both ticklers start chortling.
"If only you'd done the sensible thing, the responsible thing, and gotten a couple of rooms so you didn't have to drive home drunk, I -"
"You would've started in right there," I interrupted, nodding. "That same night. Find an abandoned mine, buzz over to Vegas for some cuffs -"
"Exactly. But you drove back. To D's place. And I proceeded to have some major fun with both of you - at the same time. I was borrowing energy from Deck... And I almost made another tickler! What's that term you guys used? I love it... 'Free agent.' That's the one! Almost. When Deck shot his load - his first load of the evening - I very nearly steered it out into... a separate existence. But I got around it, instead. Very risky. Not that I knew what I was doing, at the time. But I did pick up another jolt of energy. So there's a little Hare-power in me, along with all that Buc-"
"Hybrid," I mumble.
"Uh-huh. And - dig this - it pumped me up. I'm augmented. Ain't that a kick in the ass? I'm... ballsier than any tickler I know. And I plan reeee-eal well." It chuckles. "I owe it all to you two."

"I got a way you can show your endless gratitude," D says.
"Hah. Ain't over yet, remember? It's hardly gotten started. Ciuna's not gonna walk through the door of this place, and I wouldn't care, now, if she did. Unlike those days. I had a great time tickling both my rabbits at once. So happy... And I got a little careless. Ciuna. Damn her. She... noticed me. I wish I knew how, exactly, so I could block it. She became aware. It happened while she was smoking hash the next morning... And she knew right when I was coming. I was just a little slow on the uptake. But there, I caught another break. Huh, dudes? You ran. Bad move. I would've loved to work you over in Shon's bedroom, locked in there, with Ciuna whacked out on the living room couch. Lean on the Hare, get him to move in. Scare her into running. It could've worked... But it was easier to drag you into the place on Coldwater. Nice and private. All I needed was a hundred-foot coil of soft nylon rope. You guys laid there, flopping around. Stuck for as long as I wanted... So I had time to think. And I wandered around the place. There was dust on the doorknobs. Hmmmmm. No mail delivery, no power on. I found a file cabinet... The taxes were paid up. The fuckin' lawn service was paid in advance. Cool, I thought. We can boogie right here. So I checked your knots and left ya. Supply run. Winstons and Camels. Oh yeah. Food, and water, and oil. Toys, feathers. I went back and got my stuff from Shon's. He looked so good in those restraints... And I had to get another fuckin' set for Deck, here-"
"And gloves," Shon says.
"And gloves. Lots and lots of gloves. Aaahhhh. I tell ya. Buck - if only I had known. All you had was the flu... Fuck. I cut you loose. And I couldn't even believe how much more I liked having two of you, laughing your guts out. We could've been there for a good long time... Find another place to hide ya, move ya out... It could've been one long, uninterrupted hootenanny."
That makes sense, and I nod. With so many... incarcerations that went on for weeks, I've always wondered why we got off so easy that first time.
"Sooooo... Let's see, about nine hours after Deck shot that first big... wad of energy into me, I took my time on him and made him crazy. Got him off - only that time I kept it from scattering. Shaped it a little. And a second tickler was... there. Looking all around. Waiting for some guidance...
"Alright. Welcome, compadré. Watch me. Do this - and I formed two invisible hands - and set 'em right on the big guy's ribs. Right... there. Now, do the same thing to him that I'm doing to pretty boy, here..."
More growled chuckling.
"Caught on real quick. That first impression... I think it makes us insane. One goal, above all oth-"
"Gonna tickle some rabbits." The other voice.
My heart is thudding like a pile-driver.

"Uh-huh," the first voice laughs.
"Tickle 'em hard. From now on."
Shon's lookin' a little pale. Eyes real big.
The glove that's been playing with me all this time rears back, threatening my belly perhaps -
Over on D, leather fingers change position... as if they were holding the grip on a golf club.
"Yup," the first voice agrees. "Really... gonna get it - Oh, yeah! One last thing. Guys, you will address me... as..."
"Vex," Shon blurts.
The glove holding me mimics the other one.
"And you gonna call me -"
"Tor," I bark, the name immediately busting to get out.
"Heya, Liebre," Tor rumbles, with a disturbing mix of hero worship and death threat.
Shon chimes in, looking puzzled. "Uh... Lee-"
"Hare," I whine, watching the glove.
They... shake our cocks. Firm grip, glad-handing. Good to know ya, boys.
We start to squirm.
About eight more gloves come up to each of us... and dive in.
Then we don't squirm any more. We step up to full-scale thrashing around. And howling. Screaming, and roaring, and whooping like hurricanes.

I try every fuckin' contortion. All three dimensions. The cuffs are sturdy, the straps are just too tight to budge, and I can't get any leverage spread out like this.
And the fucker - this Tor - knows every little button to push.

On to Part 7

Back to Part 1
 

20oct2002