Brotherly TUGs (m/m, MF/m)

Postby chatouilleux » Tue Feb 10, 2015 11:14 am

"C'mon, Jean! I know you want to"

"That's not the point, Pierre. Mama won't like it."

Pierre rolled his eyes. Jean was always such a wuss. They were both bored out of their skulls, and Pierre had come up with the brilliant idea to have an escape challenge. Unfortunately, Jean didn't seem to love the idea, even though his brother offered to go first.

Pierre waggled the roll of duct tape in his older brother's face, tempting him sorely. The fourteen-year-old ignored him, rolling over on his side. Pierre pushed and shoved at his brother, hoping maybe he could annoy him into helping.

Jean gave his nine year old brother a sidelong glance. "You really want me to do this?" Pierre nodded enthusiastically and grinned. The older boy groaned, sat up, and grabbed his brother quick as a flash. Pierre found himself slung over his brother's shoulder, where he began thrashing.

"That's not what I meant!" he said indignantly. "If I'm going to do this, we're doing it my way, pipsqueak." Pierre railed against the "pipsqueak" remark, but he was silenced by Jean's hand clapping over his mouth.

Jean plopped his brother down on a nearby armchair, with soft cushions but very sturdily built. Pierre attempted to get up, but Jean was having none of that. He snatched his little brother's right arm, and began to wrap the tape around it. Despite Pierre's desperate wiggling, Jean could tell he was enjoying this.

"I thought this was what you wanted, you little nut. Stop squirming! You're making this harder than it needs to be." Jean scolded, a small grin noticeable on his face.

"You're enjoying this a lot more than I thought you would," Pierre said as Jean finished securing his arms. The little boy tugged at the layers of tape, but they weren't budging. "Well, it's not every day I get to tie up my little baby brother." Jean replied as he moved down to the little brunette's ankles to continue his work.

A couple of minutes later, Jean was finished. Pierre's legs were taped to opposite sides of the chair, leaving him unable to even move an inch. He wiggled, but was well and truly trapped.

"One final touch..." Jean said as he walked around the back of the chair. Pierre tried to wiggle around to see him, but had no idea what was going on until he felt the tape press against his lips. He tried to cry out, but all that escaped was a soft "mmmph!"

Jean wrapped the roll around and around, consciously avoiding running the tape over his hair. He knew how much that hurt, and didn't want to subject his little brother to that pain.

After about six passes, he was done. Pierre could now not speak, move, or stop Jean's impending fun.

"Hey, Pierre. Do you remember last week when I found a frog in my shoe?" Pierre's eyes twinkled with laughter, remembering his trick. "Well, there's this wonderful thing called karma, mon frère. And it's coming back to you right now!"

Pierre cocked his head. What did he mean? And then, all at once, he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and Jean was staring at his bellybutton. "Mmm! Mmmph! Mmmmphhhhh!"

His renewed thrashing provided no escape, and Jean's dextrous fingers descended onto his tummy. Pierre squealed into his thick gag, laughing wildly as Jean attacked the soft, defenseless skin. Ever since he was a toddler, Pierre had been hopelessly ticklish, a fact Jean had always been happy to exploit. And now that Pierre had no way of moving, Jean was quite enjoying tickling him senseless!"

"Isn't this fun, Pierre?" Jean asked his brother. Pierre shook his head. "MMMMPH!" "Mais oui!" Jean replied. "This way, you get to play your game, I get to have some revenge, and Mama never has to know!"

"What don't I have to know, mon petit garçon?"

Jean jumped like he had been shocked. He whipped around and saw his mother, Angeline, standing in the doorway with the groceries in her hand. Pierre looked up, breath whistling in through his nose.

"Jean, undo the gag" she commanded. The boy complied, and Pierre gasped for breath. "He tied me up, Mama!" he complained once he could breathe. "And now he's tickling me!"

"I can see that, cher." Angeline replied. "But why?" "It's for the frog he put in my shoe last week!" Jean chimed in.

"You put a frog in his shoe?" Angeline asked her younger son. He bowed his head and giggled. "Oui, mama. But it was so funny! He screamed so high he sounded like a little girl!"

Angeline smiled. "I had wondered what caused that." "Oh, and he asked me to do it!" Jean called out. "Did he now?" Angeline replied, cocking her head at Pierre.

"No! Not re- well, kind of... he didn't say he would tickle me!" Angeline smirked at her little boy. "Pierre, tu es plus chatouilleux de personne! Of course he was going to tickle you!"

"And I don't see why I should stop him." Pierre's jaw went clean through the floor. "Mama!"

Jean grinned, but stopped dead at his mother's next sentence.

"Just so long as he gets his turn."

***
Jean whipped around, looking at his mother with playful fear. "Well, don't mind me." Angeline told him. "Carry on with your revenge. Just keep in mind that we get to have a little fun afterwards."

The brunette fourteen-year-old gulped, but returned to torturing poor Pierre. "Non! Non! S'il te plaît, non!" the little boy cried. Jean paid no heed, and dug his fingers into the little cracks of his armpits. His brother squealed, renewing his crazed attempts at escape, to no avail. His armpits were probably the most ticklish spot on his body, aside from his feet and toes. Fortunately, they were pinned to the floor.

Jean saw his brother's eyes continually dart down to his ticklish little tootsies, as if pleading him not to. Being the loving big brother that he was... he decided to do exactly that. He slowly lowered the back of the chair to the ground, leaving the soft soles and little bubble toes totally exposed!

Pierre launched back into desperate pleas to spare his ticklish tootsies, but Jean paid no heed. He slowly dragged his surprisingly sharp fingernails up Pierre's soles. The little boy tensed up, and let out a massive blast of laughter. As if on cue, Pierre began to rapidly scribble all over his little brother's soles.

The poor brunette's muscles all seemed to fail him, and all he could do was laugh at his brother's wild treatment of his soles and toes. Jean grinned at him.

"Isn't this so much fun, Pierre?" he asked. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOOOO!" he cried out, trying to beg him to stop. And then, quite unexpectedly, he did.

His stopping was not of his own volition. His parents had snuck up behind him and grabbed him, hauling him away to his own ticklish fate.

Within five minutes, Jean found himself tied spread-eagled on his bed. The young teen squirmed, but his dad's knot-tying was too complex for him to escape.

"Papa? Where did you come from?" His father, Julien, grinned at him, seeming almost catlike. "You didn't think I'd miss out on tickling you again, Jean?"

"Your turn, cher!"

***
Jean squeaked, and began to thrash wildly as his parents' wiggling fingers slowly descended towards his body. No matter how much he tried to hide it, he was extremely ticklish. Every now and again, his parents would decide to tickle him senseless in order to level the playing field with his little brother. In order to properly stop the growing boy from resisting, they would frequently tie him to his bed.

Angeline's rounded fingernails touched down on his flat tummy and began to lightly scratch the soft skin. Meanwhile, Julien had descended on his feet and dragged his fingers up and down the soles.

The young teen squealed and laughed, trying desperately to escape his parents' crazy tickles. Pierre was still taped to a chair across from the bed where his laughing brother was bound, and grinned at his treatment. Julien looked up at his younger son, and smirked.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked. Pierre giggled. "You're tickling him! It's funny!"

"Is it now?" Julien said, moving away from Jean's desperately wiggling tootsies. "Will it be as funny when I tickle you?" Pierre's eyes grew so wide they just about popped out of his head. He wiggled crazily, but was no more successful in escaping than he had been all afternoon.

Soon, both boys' laughter rang out in the small bedroom. Angeline grinned as Jean's voice shot up in pitch. He sounded jut like her little boy again, especially when her nails glided up into his armpits.

"NOHOOOOOOOO!" both boys cried out. They were both insanely ticklish, but not-so-secretly adored these tickle sessions with their parents. Jean remembered getting double-teamed when he was a toddler, laughing and squealing as his parents teased his tiny bare feet.

But he was forced out of his happy reminiscing by Angeline's continued tickling of his helpless body. Pierre was faring no better; he had been tipped on his back once again so that his feet were bared. His happy shrieks and laughs brought joy to his father's face.

After ten minutes of crazy tickles, Angeline and Julien finally let up and released their sons. Pierre rose, and managed to stumble over to the bed. He collapsed onto Jean's heaving chest, and immediately passed out cold. Jean managed a small smile before following suit.

Angeline smiled, and drew a blanket over her adorable sleeping sons.

"Je vous aimes, mes amores." she whispered, kissing Jean on the forehead.

END

People who are actually fluent in French, please pardon any grammatical errors I make. I try.
Je vais te chatouiller et tu ne peux rien faire. Bon chance!

Re: Brotherly TUGs (m/m, MF/m)

Postby Nicktie » Sun Feb 15, 2015 8:20 am

This was nice :) I liked reading it very much