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Walter turned back
to Alex. 'Fox and John are bringing back the newspapers. They won't be long.
While it's just us, I wanna know what you were doing skulking in our garden!' Alex huffed. 'Eating.' Walter sighed. 'Apart from that Alex!' 'Um...I
was...watching you.' 'And what were we
doing that was so interesting?' 'Not much. You're
so...domesticated.' Walter laughed,
his voice echoing in the small room. 'And?' Alex looked around
the well-stocked room. 'This...this is what I imagined you doing all day.' Walter smiled.
'How do you know that we don't?' It was Alex's turn
to laugh. 'Because you're mowing the lawn and taking out the
garbage.' Walter nodded. 'Yeah. Sometimes we venture out.' Alex let out a
deep breath. 'I'm sorry about...you know.' Walter mentally
catalogued the things Alex had to be sorry about and nodded. 'Yeah well, I've
got you here now.' His eyes flashed amusement and he was gratified to see a
tiny flicker of fear in Alex's face, quickly replaced by flushed arousal. He
covered Alex's face with a thick cotton cloth, loose so he could shake it off
if he needed to, heavy enough that it would stay in place if Alex moved. 'It's
more fun this way Alex.' Alex didn't reply.
He inhaled deeply, smelling fabric softener and a slight scent of Walter's
cologne on the cloth. 'You keep your
eyes open Alex. No dozing off.' Walter warned. Walter liked
boxers. He particularly loved loose ones and liked nothing better than tickling
Fox or John up the leg of them as they lay in bed on on
the couch, dozing. Experience with them had taught him that both actually felt
more vulnerable and ticklish if they were wearing some clothing - a t-shirt or
even just socks - than if they were wearing nothing at all. From behind his
back, Walter took a long, curved, stiff feather with a sharply pointed tip, and
a large metal clip, then positioned himself at the foot of the bed between
Alex's widely spread legs. He reached out and pulled Alex's shorts down a
couple of inches onto his hips. This increased the gap between Alex's thighs
and the legs of the shorts. He pulled the inside of the shorts' legs together
and fastened them together with the clip. Now, looking along Alex's legs, he
had a clear view of, and good access to, the balls and cock up the legs of the
shorts. Then Walter
carefully and slowly inserted the feather up inside the left leg of Alex's
shorts. Of course Alex, being effectively blindfolded, was unaware of what was
happening and it wasn't until the pointed tip of the feather made contact with
his testicles that he felt anything. And when it did, he let out a scream that
echoed around the room. With all his
strength he tried to close his legs together to protect his sensitive flesh
from the tickling feather wielded by Walter, but of course he couldn't. His
legs were strapped wide apart and there was nothing he could do but lie there
and take it. The tip of the feather danced over his balls, across the front of
them, up and down the sides and right into the crevice where the scrotum joined
the very top of his thighs. The curve of the feather also allowed Walter to
reach the back of his balls and the sensitised perineum. He worked on the
testicles, the tops of the thighs and the perineum for five minutes or so,
during which time Alex's screams of ticklish agony reached new heights. Alex
had never had his balls tickled before and he had never imagined that anything
could tickle so much. Under the fabric, he came close to fainting many times,
but Walter was careful never to allow let Alex pass out. He would tickle the
boy for a while until his
pleas for mercy told Walter he couldn't take any more. He would
pause for a moment to allow Alex to recover a little so that he could continue.
Under the cloth,
Alex's eyes were wide open and his head was thrown back as he willed himself
not to be ticklish, not to give Walter the satisfaction of seeing him react
violently to the sensations but there was nothing he could do to fight it. Denied the
opportunity to fix on a distant object as he always did when in pain, he
couldn't find another distraction quickly enough and was forced to concentrate
on what Walter was doing to him. In addition to that, the soft cloth enclosing
his head and pressing all across his face made him feel unbelievably helpless
and more horny than he had ever felt in his life. In
spite of the fact that what was being done to his balls tickled like nothing
he'd ever experienced before, it was also incredibly sexy, and he suddenly felt
the need to finish what Walter had started.
As he lay on the table, strapped down helpless, he was moving his hips
up and down, desperately trying to get some friction and climax. There was
nowhere he could move, nothing he could do, to stop that tickling. It felt like
a spider climbing onto his balls and walking over them, getting deep into all
the nooks and crannies of his unprotected flesh. Alex used every
ounce of his concentration to fight against it, to try to alleviate that
unbearable tickling, that unbelievably urgent need to empty himself - but all
his efforts only served to make him feel more helpless, more vulnerable, and
even more damnably ticklish. Several times he thought he was going to faint,
and he longed for unconsciousness, but Walter knew exactly what he was doing -
he would always stop for just long enough to deny Alex that relief and then the
infuriating, frustrating tickling would begin anew. Suddenly Alex had
a clear thought. He would die. He knew he would die, or go mad. Walter would
accomplish with...whatever he was holding...what countless other more heavily
armed men had failed to do. End the life of Alex Krycek. Walter knew that
one of the reasons wearing shorts made boys more ticklish and horny was the
feeling of invasion - of not being able to see what was happening - as a hand
or other object made its way up inside. With this in mind,
Walter put the feather down and slowly inserted his whole hand up Alex's
shorts, using his fingertips to tickle the thigh and his hand to move the
shorts about. He ran his hand round the front, back and inside of the smooth
thigh, repeatedly withdrawing it and inserting it again. Each time his hand was
fully in, he tickled Alex's balls, paying particular attention to the back of
the testicles, which he'd found to be an especially sensitive place on both his
lovers, before withdrawing it again, tickling the thigh on the way. He worked
up one leg and then the other, and finally both together, his fingers tickling
every square inch under the boy's shorts. Alex was delirious. He arched his
back, laughed, screamed, shrieked, begged, pleaded and cried - all the time
gasping to get enough air into his lungs past the cloth over his face. So far Alex's cock
head had not been touched. Walter had made sure that his shorts were
sufficiently loose to prevent the possibility of using them for friction, but
now he was going to encourage Alex to want to climax. He picked up the
feather once more and began to work on Alex's rock-hard cock. Starting at the
very base of the shaft he drew the feather lightly and teasingly up towards the
tip, always stopping short of the glans. He worked round
the thick cock, tickling every bit of the throbbing, aching organ. To make it
even worse for his victim, and even more impossible for him to resist, he
inserted his other hand up the shorts and played with the boy's vulnerable and
ticklish balls at the same time. Alex's hip-thrusting became more urgent, more
desperate, and Walter felt him getting close to orgasm. Alex apparently
felt the same thing, because in between the incoherent sounds, Walter heard him
pleading. 'Oh God, I'm gonna...Aaaaahhhh! No! NO!
P-p-p-please, n-n-n-not THERE! Oh GOD - please STOP! I'll d-do ANYTHING!!
PLEASE S-S-STOP. Oh no.. Oh no. I'm gonna...' Walter stopped and
stood back. Alex's violent movements gradually subsided as he cooled down and
the threat of orgasm receded again. Alex lost count of
how many times Walter did this to him - brought him to the very edge of orgasm
and then stopped just in time so that he couldn't finish. A thought chilled
Alex suddenly. If he did, if he lost control, he would face a fate far worse
than death. He knew
that these men could easily make him instrument, having fun with him which
would make a night on Walter's balcony seem like a picnic. If only he could see
the clock. Surely Fox and John should be back by now? He had no idea of the
time - it could have been five minutes or five hours since they'd started. He steeled himself
again as he felt his shorts move - but this was something different. He felt
the leg being raised and his cock and balls pulled out the bottom. Now he was
completely vulnerable. The air felt cool on his rigid cock as it stuck
vertically upwards, being held in position by the leg of the shorts pressing
against the base. He was not circumcised and he knew what would happen if
Walter decided to work on the tip. The tickling bean
again, fingers moving down Alex's sides. The bulge in Walter's tight shiny
black leather pants doubled in size over the next few seconds as he
contemplated Alex's sides, the ribs too prominent. His fingers came to rest at
the sides of the boy's waist and began to probe, gently at first, exploring,
seeking out the spots which experience told him would have the most devastating
effect. He watched the younger man's reactions with so much concentration that
he was oblivious to everything else. It was almost as if his fingers were
having a conversation with Alex's nervous system: 'How about here?' 'Hmm,
not quite. Down a bit.' 'How's this?' 'Aaah!' 'And
this?' 'Yesssssssssss' 'Here?' Occasionally, Alex
seemed to steel himself and Walter felt no response at all. It was as if the
conversation went: 'Here?' 'I'm not going to
tell you.' 'Oh, yes you are.' Walter would press
in a fractionally different spot. 'How's
that?' 'ALL
RIGHT! ALL RIGHT!! YES, YES, YES, YES!! THERE!! JUST THERE!!!' Walterx smiled. Once
again, his expert fingers were exactly where he wanted them - precisely
positioned on a victim's most devastatingly ticklish nerve centers.
Every time Walter, who was otherwise a very pleasant, kind
and considerate human being, was in this position, changed into a cruel,
sadistic torturer who knew no mercy. Well, in his mind anyway. Walter knew from
experience and careful observation of the prone body in front of him that he
would only have a short time before Alex fainted, so he took the boy's bare
cock between his fingers and began to slide the foreskin back and forth over
the very tip. His free hand was up the other leg of the shorts, tickling the
back of the boy's balls mercilessly. At that very
moment Alex let out a shriek that made the windows rattle. Every muscle in his
body tried to escape his restraints. He tried to close his legs together, tried
to lower his arms, tried to curl up into a ball, tried to get the blindfold off
- and most of all, tried to stop himself cclimaxing all over Walter's hand. With terror he
felt his balls constrict. At that moment the tickling, which until now had been
unbearable agony, turned into something else - his entire body became one big
erogenous zone - one big cock - and it was the most shatteringly sexy thing he
had ever experienced in his life. He made one last desperate effort to hold
back but he knew there was nothing he could do. Walter's touch had
been pure torture, but it lifted him to heights of horniness he had never
before suspected existed. The fingers on the tip of his cock, stroking
rhythmically and relentlessly while he helplessly tried to resist, the hand up
his shorts, between his thighs, tickling his balls, the restraints and the
blindfold - all this made it impossible. ****************** He screamed so
loudly Fox and John heard it as they opened the front door and quickly checked
both immediate neighbors
driveways were empty - the holiday weekend emptying practically the whole
street. Knowingly, Fox
said: 'He did the shorts thing.' John nodded. 'And
the touching thing.' Fox carried the
newspapers into the kitchen and the two men settled down to read. ******************** Alex opened his
eyes slowly, focussing with difficulty. He groaned. 'Am I dead?' Walter lifted his
head and helped him drink from a bottle of water. 'No Alex. Slowly.
Okay?' Alex nodded
slightly and Walter let his head down gently. 'Did the cops get called?' Walter laughed
softly. 'No. It's July 4th tomorrow. Most of our neighbors
are already gone.' Alex lay back,
breathing deeply, suddenly realizing he wasn't in the basement. And that Fox
and John were perched on the arms of the couch he was laying on. 'Um...hi.' John nodded and
Alex twisted round, looking at Fox. 'Fox.' 'Alex.' Fox said, a slight smile on his face. 'I should get
going too.' Alex said after a long pause, lifting himself up. Walter shook his
head. 'Not until tomorrow Alex. We've got you for another...twenty-two hours.' Alex groaned and
lay back down. 'You'll kill me!' John shook his
head. 'Nah. We could have done that already. You want
something to eat?' Alex nodded. 'Yeah.' Fox smiled,
getting up. 'It's Sunday. Walter cooks. We watch TV.' John sighed. 'You
watch TV Fox. I'm not sitting through another rerun of Starship
One.' 'SG-1.' Fox said
witheringly, glancing at Alex. 'Which ep is it?' Alex asked. Fox shrugged and
picked up the paper. 'You like SG-1 Alex?' 'Yeah.' Alex nodded,
smiling. Fox put out a hand
and helped Alex up. 'I guess that means you're stripping the beds John.' Walter shook his
head. 'No, you can *all* strip the beds. Then you can watch...your programme.
There's plenty of time.' Fox and Alex
exchanged a look but trailed up the stairs after John. Walter watched them go.
And heard them talking as they worked to strip the beds. A thought flitted into
his mind and he pushed it aside almost instantly. But as he gathered everything
he would need for the dinner he was about to make, the same thought kept coming
back. Making Alex scream like that had been... His hand strayed down the front
of his jeans. He had changed while Fox and John sat with an unconscious Alex.
He wondered if there was a dry cleaners he could trust
with the leather pants. One that wouldn't recognise him.
He could picture the conversation in his mind: 'Any
special cleaning instructions Sir?' 'Oh
yeah. That stain is the result of my orgasm when the man I thought I hated
most in the world came in my basement dungeon after being tickled for thirty
minutes.' 'Of
course Sir. Would you like us to repair the zip too?' Walter blushed,
coughed and turned his attention back to the vegetables in the sink. To be continued... Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index
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