I got into a fight with my little brother and it changed my life. He was less than two years younger than I was, but I had always been able to dominate him-one of the benefits of being older. Whether we played hoops one on one, football or wrestled on the living room floor, I always beat him, which made him furious. I guess I was kind of a dick towards him, but it was fun. I'm that kind of guy. I remember one Saturday when mom and dad had gone to an out of town wedding, he pissed me off about something and I ended up pinning him and keeping him down for hours. He really couldn't get up unless I let him and I eventually had him crying tears of frustration.

After high school, we went to different colleges and I didn't see him as much. We had grown up to be fairly similar in looks and size. We both were about six feet tall, weighed about 180 lbs., and had good bodies from playing sports, running and working out. I had short brown hair and Tim's was blond. We both always had a lot of girls sniffing around. Even though we looked to be equal, I knew I could still dominate him if I had to- once an older brother, always an older brother.

Tim spent his entire junior year abroad, so I hadn't seen him for a long time. I had just finished college, and with no real job in sight, I was back home to lifeguard one more time and Tim was going to live at home too and wait tables. The folks were going to be gone for most of the summer at the lake house, so Tim and I were going to bach it. I hadn't really thought about our boyhood fights for a long time, and I just assumed Tim and I would co-exist and stay out of each other's way. Boy, was I wrong.

I had to admit Tim looked good. He was in good shape and he looked maturer. He also had a more confident air that made me mildly uneasy. We got along fairly well for the first few days by basically ignoring each other. One day, though, I came home to find him drinking one of my beers.

"Hey, shithead, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm drinking a beer."

"Yeah, well that's my beer, asshole."

"I didn't see your name on it. Chill and have one. You look like you could use one."

I was in a bad mood that day and I didn't like his attitude; he was almost sounding like an equal. I guess in retrospect, my next move wasn't the brightest thing I had ever done. I grabbed the beer out of his hand and said, "Next time, ask."

He looked stunned for about one second and then POW!-he attacked and I was caught totally off-guard. The fucker tackled me right on the kitchen floor and the beer went flying. I was surprised, but determined to beat the crap out of the punk and make him lick the beer off the floor.

Well, a lot had changed since we wrestled last. I was the one who found myself pinned, and in less time than I care to dwell on. Tim sat on my chest and pinned my arms over my head in a classic schoolboy pin, and I just stared at him slack jawed-how in the hell did that happen? Tim had a shit eating grin on his face which pissed me off. I got mad and tried to throw him off so I could wipe that grin off of his face, but I couldn't budge him. Hey, I mean I really couldn't get him off of me even though I was exerting a lot of energy. Tim's smile got bigger and started to look a lot like a smirk.

"You're just wasting energy, Bro. You aren't going anywhere until I say so."

I gritted my teeth and tried again. He just laughed.

"How's it feel, Brian?

"OK, OK, you win. Now let me up."

"No way. I've waited a long time for this, Brian. I was going to stay out of your way this summer and try to get along. You were an asshole when we were kids, but I figured we were both grown up so I would let bygones be bygones. Then you had to start this shit about a damn beer! I think it's time you were brought down a peg or two. Yeah, I learned a few tricks in Europe that I think will be good to try on you. You're gonna get it Brian."

Then, before I knew what hit me, Tim flipped me so that I was on my stomach. He was still on top of me and he grabbed my freed but flailing arms and wrapped my wrists in his belt. Shit! Tied up by my little brother.

"OK, big boy, ready for some fun?"

"What the hell are you talking about", I asked, twisting my head around to look up at Tim who was now standing above me with his arms crossed and one sneakered foot on my ass, like I was a captured prey or something.

"You'll see," he snickered as he lifted over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. When did he get so strong? I struggled like crazy, but with my arms tied and his arms around my thighs, I didn't get anywhere. He started up the stairs to the second floor where both of our bedrooms were. I was starting to get more nervous than pissed at this point because he seemed to have a definite plan and he was firmly in control. Man, I did not like this feeling at all.

Tim walked past my room and went right into his. He dumped me on the bed and again, faster than I could really register, he was on top of me, this time lashing my ankles to the bedposts with some rope already there. What the fuck??

"I used these on Jenny Crawford last night and man, she is walking bowlegged today. Good thing for you I didn't take the rope off the bed, huh, Bro?"

I groaned. The rope was tight and the knots secure-the little nerd remembered his Boy Scout training too well. He jumped on my stomach and knocked the wind out of me so he could get my arms next. He tied them together way over my head to the bedpost. He then went back to my legs and retied them spread apart. I kicked at him, but he was more in control as each minute went by. Once I was secured, he went to his closet and got out more rope and really went to town on me, binding me to that bed in an intricate web of rope that left me unable to move an inch. My hips were tied down tightly, my knees were spread and secured and even my head was lashed to the bed. I felt totally weird and helpless. I was really freaking out, especially with Tim working happily and steadily away, whistling and telling me I was going to "get it" and "payback was a bitch". What was he going to do to me?

Tim stood up and looked down and me. I was wearing a red t-shirt, old khaki shorts and beat up sneakers. I never wore socks in the summer. "Alrighty, then, let's get started."

Tim straddled me again, sitting on my hips. He lifted up my t-shirt, exposing my flat, tan stomach. I do a ton of sit-ups everyday and my gut is flat and hard. He pulled the shirt up to right under my nips. Then, while looking me right in the eye, he started stroking my sides and stomach! What the fuck? Was Tim some sort of fag? I jumped at the first touch, but then I got control of myself. It kind of tickled, but his touch was really light, barely touching the skin. I broke out in goosebumps.

He smiled when he saw the goosebumps and he picked up the pace just a little. "Oh, yeah," he whispered.

The stroking slowly but surely turned into tickling. OH NO! I didn't even think I was that ticklish, but I was about to find out how wrong I was. Tim must have noticed the look on my face, because what he said next chilled me down to my toes.

"I'm going to put it to you, dude. You know what I mean, don'tcha?"

I knew.

I started to sweat.

Tim was using his strong fingers to stroke and tickle my sides and ribs. I was sputtering and flopping around as much as my bonds would allow. He found one spot on my side about an inch from my hip that caused me to gasp and jump.

"Ah, that's the spot, isn't it, big boy?"

"Dude! OH! C'mon, Ah!" I hadn't really laughed hard before this, but his working that patch of skin with his index finger, drawing little circles around it and then poking it unleashed the floodgates and I lost it.

"Tickle, tickle, big bro. How's it feel? I'm just getting started, Brian. We have all night, don't we? If this spot gets you going, you're going to be goofy when I go after your feet. Ever had your feet tickled really good, Brian? I know what I'm doing and I can make it last."

Tim left the Spot and moved up my torso. I was highly sensitized now and I squirmed at his touch. He slowed down when he got close to my pits and lifted my shirt over my face so I couldn't see what was happening. His fingers were teasing the soft place right before the pits started, drawing in my increasing sweat. Man, having him that close to my stretched out pits really brought home how helpless I was. It's just not natural not to be able to protect your pits. Every atom in my body was telling me to pull my arms down, but I couldn't move. When his fingers finally struck both pits at the same time, it felt like plunging into the Atlantic in Maine, or just coming over the top of the first big hill on a roller coaster. There was no turning back now.

I fucking screamed. Tim was tickling both pits at once with his wriggling fingers. His fingers were quick and light now and then steady and probing. I couldn't stand it, having both of my armpits tickled by my little brother. Plus, I couldn't see anything because of the damn shirt. He would tug on the damp pit hair and then wiggle all his fingers right in the center of the pit. Then he would tease the rim and pinch the muscle. The worst was when he would start on my triceps, tickle through the pit and end up right below. When he let up for just a second, I started begging.

"D-Dude, c'mon dude, aaahh---really I-I-I OOO", he had started lightly stroking my sides again, avoiding for the moment both my pits and the Spot. Still, I was like a live wire. He uncovered my face and I saw through my bleary eyes his superior looking face and smug grin.

"Seriously, Tim, I-STOP IT! I aaarrgh! I mean it. Cut this shit out. You got me, dude. We're AAAA!! even."

"You've got to be kidding, Brian. We are nowhere near even. I put up with your shit for eons, man, and now it's payback time. I didn't know you were ticklish like a little girl, but I'm certainly going to take advantage of it. Let's check out your tootsies, huh?"

Tim went to the foot of the bed where my ankles were held securely. He unlaced my beat-up Nikes and flipped them off my feet. I must admit that I have good-looking feet. They're strong from playing sports with good tendons and veins. The tops were tan from my lifeguarding, but the bottoms were smooth and soft. I took care of my dogs and kept the nails trimmed. I never went barefoot and I didn't like my brother having access to my bare feet. Having them naked and tied in front of his wicked hands was as bad as having my pits exposed. I scrunched my toes.

"Dude, nice looking feet. Bet they're pretty sensitive. Bet you hate having your little brother this close to your ticklish bare feet with you all tied up. Bet you can't stand it. Knowing I'm gonna tickle those feet until you scream. Feels weird having another guy tickling your feet when you can't stop him. Real torture. And pretty embarrassing too, I imagine"

Oh, man he was evil. His words were doing a number on me, making my toes flex in dread anticipation.

I didn't have to wait much longer.

My feet had been in the sneaks for hours and they were sweaty and soft. His fingers glided over them like silk and I jerked mightily on the bed. He got right under my toes and that just killed me.

"Ooh!!T-T-Tim...hahahahahhehehe! S-s-s-toop! HAAAAAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!HEHEHEHEHHHHHEEEEEEEE!! C-C'mon NoOO!! I-I-I C-c-an't OOHHHH! You're -HAHAHAHAHA Killing---HEHEHEHE m-meeee! No! Please! HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAARRRRRRGH!HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!!

He worked on my feet for what felt like hours. I actually started crying it tickled so badly. He was just plain merciless.

Tim suddenly stopped and went into the bathroom. He came back carrying baby oil, which he held up for me to see. "Bet this will make your feet more sensitive, huh?"

Oh no.

He slathered the oil all over my poor feet and rubbed it in. He took a comb from the desk and started in again on my feet. This was a whole other level which made the prior tickling seem like child's play. The feel of that comb on my slippery feet slayed me. I had no frame of reference for the intensity of the feeling. And he wouldn't stop. He just kept tickling, randomly changing the tempo and the pattern, keeping me jumpy and laughing crazily. I hate to admit it, but he made my pee my pants.

"Hah! You pissed yourself, Brian. No way! I can't believe it. How fucking humiliating. Just like a baby. Well, let's get you cleaned up. Maybe I should get some diapers for you."

I blushed furiously and then gaped at him with horror as he started to unbutton my shorts.

"What are you doing..."

My question was cut short as Tim stuffed a dirty sock in my mouth. One of his, fresh off his foot. He grabbed some duct tape off the desk and completed the gag.

"I think you need to be quiet for this next part, Brian."

He pulled off my wet shorts and I blushed again because I had sprouted a huge boner from all the tickling and he could see it, outlined against the soaked jockeys. I have a good sized dick and it was up in all of its glory.

"Who's the fag, Brian?"

I just mumbled under the gag and closed my eyes. I had never in my life felt so humiliated.

He left for the bathroom again and came back with a small bucket with bubbles sprouting near the top.

"Let's get the little boy cleaned up."

The bucket contained a sponge that he used to wash my entire groin. The water was warm and he was gentle-too gentle; my hardon pulsated.

"This is my favorite part."

He patted me dry with a big towel and lay beside me on the bed. He was barely pressed up against me, but I could feel him. He leaned over and brought his face close to mine. His lips just touched my ears and I shivered. He began whispering into my helpless ear and the goosebumps came out in force.

"Brian, I learned some wild stuff in Europe. I have you all tied up and helpless. Your dick is telling me you like it."

I tried to shake my head.

"Yes, Brian, you like it. I'm really gonna mess with you now. I'll bet you never had a dude touch your cock before. Well, now your balls are in my hands."

As he said this, his fingers began lightly tickling my balls. I shuddered and groaned.

"You're real horny now, aren't you, Brian? I know you want to cum. But guess what? I'm going to tease the fuck out of you. You are going to have a massive case of blue balls by the time I'm through with you."

I told myself there was no way I would let myself cum, no matter how badly I wanted to. Fool.

Tim was an expert masturbator. His technique got me hornier and hornier, but he knew how to keep me from shooting. After an hour of his teasing, I would have done anything to cum. After another hour, I was crying and trying to beg him to let me cum. He was relentless and methodical as he tickled my cock and balls with his fingers. He would periodically blow his warm breath on my cock that made it ache. He turned some old fur mittens inside out and got a good twenty minutes of fun out of them. The whole time, he kept up a running commentary about the state of my helplessness and hornieness.

Finally, he removed my gag.

"Oh my God! Please Tim, I really can't stand this. I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you. Dude, please, I'm begging you. You gotta get me off. It's starting to hurt. PLEASE!!!"

Tim laughed at my pathetic pleas and lay again on the bed next to me. He continued to stroke my balls. Once again, he whispered in my ear.

"Brian, we've turned a corner here. If I get you off, you're going to have to live with the fact that your little brother tickled you until you pissed your pants and then got you so horny that you begged him to jack you off. It sucks to be you, dude."

His words were true, but I was so crazed with the need to cum that I didn't care; I just had to get off.

While he continued to whisper into my ear, he slowly began jacking me off. He still teased a little, but I felt the climax building. I finally blew my load and it splattered every way. I closed my eyes in shame, thankful it was at least all over. I would have to get back at him, but now I just wanted to be loose. Once again, I was sadly mistaken.

Tim let me up-eventually. To my utter horror, he began tickling me again, all the while continuing to rub my highly sensitized cock. I screamed at the intensity of the sensation, but he kept me going through two more nerve-wracking orgasms.

EPILOGUE

Things are different now. We both knew that the balance of power had shifted. I could not dominate him after what he had reduced me to on that bed. Hell, I could barely look him in the eye I felt so diminished. He used his new power cruelly, but effectively. I even came to crave it on some level although I couldn't really face that reality.

Our adventures continued all summer and I became his complete slave. He discovered my nipples on our second session and I was taken to a place I didn't even know existed.

Sometimes, he will tie me securely on the floor in front of the couch and use his bare feet to torment me while he watches TV. Those big smooth feet and strong toes tickle my torso and tease my dick until I beg him to let me lick them so he will stop. He loves looking down at me as I suck on his toes.

Once, he brought his best friend Scott Crenshaw in when I was tied down. I used to bully Crenshaw terribly when he was little and he got me back in spades. I still shudder when I think about that afternoon.

I can only imagine what the future holds.

END