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Selfown

Rolling Foot "Massage"

"Shit," I sighed, looking the box over.
From the photos, an unusually simple... well-built massager was inside. The big steel rings around it were vaguely creepy. I didn't even come close to ordering this, but my name was on the packing slip, and the fuckin' address was correct.
I didn't know why, but I thought of a weird dream I had, three or four nights ago. It was a new one on me. An invisible practical joker tied me down somehow and "checked me out". Fingers scritched here, rubbed there, squeezed and danced. Surveying my body. It liked what it found. Maybe I'd been laying off the pot for too long, havin' dreams like that - or wait, the cocky joker said that too, right?

Tactimore Supply listed a phone number for "customer service" on the packing slip. Ain't no customer of yours, I thought, punching it in. After I heard the canned greeting, a loop from some old pop song was the on-hold music...

It's a laugh, what a laugh
It's so stupid I gotta laugh
 
So strange but yeah, what a laugh
It's so stupid I gotta laugh

Looking at the slip again I noticed that the phone number I'd just punched in wasn't toll-free. L.A. area code -
"Yeah, hi there, Jamie," a happy guy said.
"Hey." It sounded like a local dude, about my age. The weird dream came to mind again. Stop it, I thought, this can't be the same fuckin' voice I dreamt of. I called this dude because of a stupid foot massager that just showed up. Go easy on the phone-bank employee, who ain't responsible for jack-shit...
"We got your phone number in our computer. What's up?"
Casual, easygoing - but that was actually a relief. "Got somethin' from you that I didn't order."
"Uh-oh..."
 

That night...
I felt pressure... around my wrist. Twisted the bedsheet around me again, or something. Both wrists, actually.
No, I was really stuck. Well, this was a new one. Never went looking for shit like this.
The sheet wasn't holding me down. It felt more like... cuffs. Leather cuffs. What the f-
A match was struck.
It floated, like magic, to a big candle on my bedstand. Not mine. On the side facing me, there was an outline of a smiley face with a wild grin.
"Jamie's up. Up for it," a guy said.
Sure enough, leather cuffs and straps. Damn.
That voice - just recently, I talked to... Oh, wow. This just couldn't be happening, right? "Tactimore."
"At my service," and it laughed.
"Where are you?"
"Right here." A hand spread out over my belly-button. Aw, hell, all my clothes were off... except for a glow-in-the-dark pouch I'd never seen before. I couldn't see the fucker that did all this to me. "I got back to you, heh heh heh, just like I said I would."
I remembered him saying that, this afternoon, and I nodded. This was not the follow-up I expected! "You're... invisible."
"And I ain't human. I got you. Oooooh, I live for this shit."
I squinted, and the wall appeared to be... padded. Thick foam. "What shit would that be?"
"Ultra-happy time."

That worried me, and it was a little intriguing. I'd find out soon enough... "That's the little table next to my bed - and this feels like my bed. This isn't my house, though, is it?"
"Yeah, it is." A flashlight clicked on. Wow! Acoustical foam everywhere. Too small to be my bedroom - but I looked over at the door -
And the light showed me a big new padlock. Oh, fuck.
No one was holding the damn flashlight. The beam went to a high corner, and then another. If I ignored the padding, the dimensions fit -
"My spare room," I sighed.
"There it is. Why'd you rent a place with two bedrooms, if you're the only one here?"
"Uh, I'm not. My roommate's been out of t-"
"Jaaay-mie. You're a liar."
"Let me go!"
"So much stress. Boy."
"Your company sells shit this way? Forced tryouts?"
"Dude's catchin' on," he chuckled. Wait, he's not a human, so I needed to think about my enthusiastic abuser as "it."
I pulled at the straps, kicked, couldn't roll, couldn't arch...
"I am the whole company. Not out to get your dough. You were on my short-list. Heh heh heh heh heh."
"For what?"
A cigarette cruised over to my mouth.

I reared back. "Seriously."
"You smoke."
"Not for a month now."
"Liquor store," Tactimore shot back. "Saturday, the 27th."
I opened my mouth - and realized the non-human stoner voice was probably right. Last week. It's been tailing me, at least part of the time.
Escaping wasn't gonna work. The invisible... thing had gone to a lot of work, here. The closet was full of boxes. An unseeable roommate - who was a bigtime practical joker? Shit, just because I'd never heard of this before...
"What time is it?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.
"Don't matter. Have a smoke."
"No th-"
The hand pressed down...
And a pair of animated leather gloves cruised up from the far end of the bed. They stopped right over my cock!
"Definitely the wrong answer."
I shook my head -
Whooooh. One took hold of my shaft, and the other cupped my nuts. They were oily.
"I bet you could use a smoke. Yeah?"
"I -" But the fingers down there tightened. I arched my neck to reach the damn cigarette. Another match scritched, and came over to serve me up.

"Was that so hard?"
"You got no right to be doin' this to me."
"Aaaaand yet I am. All kinds of shit - to get you to a whole 'nuther dimension of happiness." My dick was squeezed again. Those gloves took off, and so did the hand on my gut. I had an awful idea -
Oh, fuck, this phantom had delivered the foot massager.
"I was on your list," I said, kicking out smoke. "And there's so many other, better guys to play with."
"You're not the first one around here I've helped out. Somethin' you need is as obvious as it can be, dawg, on the outside."
"What's the real agenda, here?"
"Tickling. Oh, I'm gonna turn you on!"

I tried to think I misunderstood what the voice said, and shook my head slowly. Not that. A stupid fear of that was another reason I left San Francisco. Irrational nightmare. It got me serious about working out, and I built myself up real good. No one fucked with me. Now my spare room had been turned into a fuckin' tickle-dungeon. Boxes of supplies filled the closet.

"Work it on in," the phantom said. "Learn your best spots, how to rev each one up all the way. And we got nuthin' but time."
"Like I don't gotta be at work in the morning."
"No job. A nice chunk of change in the bank. Investments. Naw, nobody's gonna worry about ol' Jamie -"
"He'll stop in to check on me! Tomorrow! He's got a key."
"Friend or lover?" Eagerly interested.
"It doesn't matter," I barked.
"Hmmmm. One might appreciate the sensual fun, and the other could be that diehard practical joker... who'd get a kick out of you laughing the days away and nobody else suspecting a thing. Better you than him."
"Days?" "I'm gonna change the locks tomorrow. Ol' Jamie is a liar, liar, liar. No sign anywhere in here that confirms you got a partner. And your body language makes it clear that there ain't nobody... who even knows where you live."
I gritted my teeth - and sagged.

"Confirmation," the phantom snickered. "Maximum-happy, buddy. I've got a real secret crash-pad, if anybody does come snoopin' around. Off we go. No matter how long it takes, I'm gonna change your attitude."
"For my own good," I fumed.
"Just so happens... and I can't get enough of this. Weird, huh?"
Another cigarette came to me. I didn't even notice the first one being taken away. Clink, scritch - a Zippo cruised down. Mine, probably. "Now, you're not gonna get to finish this smoke," it teased.
"Don't do this -"
"Pipe down. I tickle right. Big laughs, long laughs, and looonnnng after you can't manage to laugh any more. Call it hysteria, then call it delirium, and then we'll come up with a few more words. Some folks loosen up when they get drunk. Others get high, and whoooh-baby. You can't even imagine - some people never peak..."
"Twisted," I growled. "Some idea of fun."
"Just... you... wait. And now I'm tired of waiting. You're not giving the orders, all staked out like this. Strapped down. Aw, I'm gonna rock your world."
"Why are you pretending that I need this?"
"You'll see," it said - sounding almost anxious. "I mean it. You will. Too many unhappy dudes. I'm done ignoring it, Jamie. You're next."

I shook my head, and started to protest.
"'Cheer up' sounds weak and stupid to some of you goons," it said quickly. "A real change in your attitude is probably gonna take time. Laid-back, open - and so relieved to be cut loose from my gloves and toys... is the new outlook you're gonna have, day-to-day, and it fuckin' works. I don't care how long it takes to get you there."
The gloves flew over my chest... and at least a dozen others joined them.
"Guess you could blow smoke at 'em. That's about it." Rowdy laughter. "Ready..." "No," I begged. "Set..." The gloves were coming - "Whooooh!" Tactimore shouted happily as it got started.

Laughing so hard and not anywhere near hard enough, fighting the restraints, recoiling from the hideously skillful fingers on my right side increased the pressure of the ones on my left side, the phantom loves doing this to me, bouncing my head, mindblowing work on both knees, padded walls, no one will know, my pecs are amazingly ticklish, so many magic hands tickle tickle tickle, can't stand this, getting stronger, my neck, oh no my belly, gotta roar, I try hooting, my feet are insanely sensitive and I can't move out of this fucker's grip.

Smoking. No gloves on me. Wow.
"How's my man doin'?"
I look around. Invisible, not human. "You... you love this shit."
"Uh-huh."
"Don't care if I'm happy. Too much fun to n-nuke me."
"Jaaa-mie. It's a side effect of tickle-torture." Smutty cackles.
"You are shredding me."
"No defense, huh? Fight-or-flight, except I prevented both of those. Can't deal with it, can't think straight... all because my fingers are laying into the hot buttons on ya. Oh, you're a goner."
"There must be something I can say or do to get you to stop. Uh -"
"Finish that cigarette," Tactimore interrupted. "It's time for you to meet my polishing buffers."
"Oh, shit. More and more of the same."
The phantom made a dismissive sound. "Out-of-your-mind happy, dude. You can't get enough of this serious tickling. I know."
"My body might seem to like it, but my mind - c'mon, it's too much."
"Ain't gonna work, son," it laughed.

"Listen -" "Humans can't think straight when I get busy," it said proudly. "Hey, you let me know what really works for you, okay? I mean it. Tune that shit just right."
"Why are y-" I shook my head and kicked out smoke. "A happy body makes a happy mind? Really?"
Low snickers. "Let's run with that. Okay." Triumphant, sleazy chucking. My cigarette was yanked. "Whoooooh. Alright. Yeah, you hyena, I'm the big winner here. Can't fuckin' get enough."
"Enough what? It ain't laughter. Or cum. Reaction? No -"
Gloves clamped around my soles. "You're not gonna guess it. Let's see how I can put this... Oh. Energy. Maybe it's the electrical output when you're tickled right. Irresistible, dude. Whoa. And it's addictive."

"Swell. That's just terrific."
"It is. Look, if you wanted to celebrate, I bet you'd wanna go with some top-of-the-line whiskey. Water is for survival... but your body's reaction to this warped massage is infinitely better."
"For you."
"For me," it snickered. "And I'm bigger than you. Whoooh, that's a relief. 'Fessin' up. I'm gonna crank up the impact, with tickling. It'll take a lot of thoroughly enjoyable time on your ass. All over you, I mean. Exponential tickle-tickle, coming right up." Rowdy laughter.
A buffer floated over my stomach. Clicked on.
Three others met up with it...

My sides were checked out. Pits, fuck me, neck and nips and equipment. It was more input than I could handle. Passing out was a solution, but I couldn't figure out how to faint. Stuck, vulnerable everywhere, hooting and cackling intensely but not as loud. Feeling it more, somehow. Sinking further inside me. No action or train of thought could continue.

"Good man," a voice snickered.
I opened my eyes and saw smoke. Had a cigarette between my lips.
Gloves were playing with my meat, my ribs, both knees. The spinning bristles were in my armpits.
Body-memory made it easy to take long drags, low giggles took the smoke back out of me. No end in sight, of course.
Exactly what the phantom was going for.

Blinking, testing the damn cuffs. Still fucked.
I must've napped. Had a smoke now. Looking from one posed glove to another, I didn't see why anyone would ever believe this.
"We're gettin' there," Tactimore said.
"Whuh?"
"Complete tickling. That brings complete happiness."
For you, I thought, taking another drag. No point in saying it, though.
"What does 'happy' start with, Jamie? C'mon. Tell me."
"H," I finally said.
"H... A," it laughed. "Hah. Ha ha ha ha - happy. That's why this intense workout is so important for you."
"Duh... does anyone believe that?"
Big explosion of laughter that sounded as if it escaped. "This howler doesn't. You're addictive, dude. Givin' me the right energy, when I dig in."
It sighed happily, took my smoke and covered my feet, on all sides.

Tensing up, bucking, shaking my head, howling at the ceiling didn't help at all. There were thick foam loops, maybe neoprene, holding my toes up. Couldn't break 'em. Ankles still caught, wrists too, waist and biceps and thighs. Here to be played with. Uh-huh.
Oily glove-fingers scootched under my ass.
A brief instant of clarity hit me, even as I laid back and roared. There was no "too much to take." I'd thought that over and over, but the threshold kept getting higher and higher, as if it would never really peak. Right damn spots, each tickled the right fuckin' way. Tactimore knew me.
I was helpless, sucked in by it, and another hour or two was underway, begging and bargaining hadn't done shit, the freak clearly got some big payoff from my reaction somehow, no end in sight, help was not gonna arrive, maybe if I laugh harder...

It had to be tomorrow. Beyond that. So many hours of slow-and-steady abuse, getting stroked without the big payoff, more and more cigarettes, happy tickler, soundproofed walls, water to drink and the tickling starts right up again, no power to change anything being done to me.
 

Finally I woke up, as if I'd been allowed to sleep for a good while. Wonderful sleep. The obvious thing that was on tap for today was completely unavoidable. Dammit.
The door opened, a cake pan loaded up with shit came in, and the door locked again.
Scrambled eggs, coffee, bacon, hash browns - probably microwaved.
"I don't have bacon in the fridge. Or those, uh, potatoes."
"Say it with me... you do now." I actually sighed out the last word with my tickler. "Sensual animal." "Don't seem healthy. For me, or you. Damn, I mean, you just love this."
"Can't get enough."
"So I'm really in for it."
"Uh-huh. A permanent change in your thinking, you hyena. Relieved when I don't have you caught, motivated, confident. You'll see. Happier! It makes life way easier for you. Redefining pleasure, tuning up that whole system in your head." An easy, victorious sigh. "I win, and you win."

It was a long, slow, expansive day.
 

"Alright. Help me out," Tactimore said, after "dinner."
"Bullshit," I grumbled.
"I think you're the man to hear from. Not just haw-haw-haw, I mean. Plenty of that later. You know I mean it. I get a rush out of the... physical reactions, when I work you over - and I don't know why I wanna make the happy feelings last afterward. Jamie is better off than he was -"
"I'm mega-tickled all the time, here," I protested, looking around the cage for the next wave of overload-pleasure tools.
"Between the tickling. You're teaching me - I'm not the only one getting taught, here, hah hah - how to improve your outlook about everything else."
"So," I finally sneered, "let's get back to the real reason you got me here. Maximum cootchie-cootchie."
After a pause, gloves sprung up from the floor and came over.
Quiet chuckles. "Gonna fuck with me, howler?"
 

The next morning...
"Ready to talk?" it growled. "About fixing that lousy mood you walk around with?"
"Seriously? Uh, okay -"
"I wanna do some good, here."
"Tickling the absolute fuck out of me! Drugs. Booze and weed, all the cigarettes."
"Yeah, well. Like that stuff is anything new to you."
"How in the world c-"
"Since when were you gonna clean up? Pass on those things? I'm hosting the ultimate party for a badass loner like you."
"Days and days of tickling," I whined.
"And lots more coming up. Know that, Jamie. Plus I can't seem to stop wanting to make your life better, uh, either. For the times in-between when I snag ya."
"Times? Oh, no, this isn't the only kidnapping? Marathon abuse?"
"Please," it sneered. "As if you didn't know that."
I shook my head. "Did I sound that sarcastic?"
"Are you more ticklish after you spooge?" it finally replied.

14jan2023