My Neighbor, My Master

Death, divorce, moving. These are three things described as the most stressful events for a person. Grief over loss of a loved one could make you unable to do anything, struggling with sorting out finances and possessions could be infuriating, and dealing with uprooting your life and planting it somewhere else could be stressful beyond measure.

Moving to a new neighborhood was scary, but from my end, it could only be a plus. No more apartments, no more screaming kids or fighting neighbors, no more loud parties at three in the morning, no more landlords. I was getting a house, a proper dwelling.

Thankfully, I didn't have much to move; I saved a bundle just by renting a trailer and driving over myself. A mere five hours late, and I was home.

I pulled into the driveway and stepped out, ready to get to work. Getting my things inside would be easy, though I do wish I'd had a bit of help. Many hands make light work, after all. And as if someone was listening, I heard the sound of a throat clearing behind me.

I nearly dropped the box I was holding (I scare easy) and whipped around. A man stood behind me. No, that was an understatement. He was less of a man and more of a mountain. Barrel-chested with thick, burly arms, dressed in a tight-fitting flannel shirt, jeans, and heavy work boots. He looked at me with soft, brown eyes, and a Stetson sat atop his wavy black locks, his clean-shaven face sporting a strong, squared jawline.

"Oop, didn' mean ta give ya a scare there, darlin'." he said with a chuckle. "You jus' movin' in?"

I nodded, caught off-guard not just by his sudden presence, but his appearance. Whatever god made him broke the mold, flawlessly combining virility, masculinity, and beauty. "Y-Yeah, just arrived today."

He stepped inside the trailer and took the box from me, tucking it under his arm and extending his hand to me. "Well, on behalf'a tha neighborhood, lemme welcome y'all to this lil' slice of heaven." he said. I took his hand, my own disappearing inside his as he shook firmly. "Name's Kyle Johnson. Pleasure ta meetcha, darlin'."

I gave him my name and said it was nice to meet him, too. Which was true. He was like some suburban Adonis at 6'7" with a southern accent. It was good there was work to be done, otherwise I'd have probably stared at him the whole day.

He was able to carry stacks of boxes like they were feathers, and a job that should've taken an hour or two was done in less than thirty minutes.

"Job well done, ah'd say." Kyle said as he surveyed the now-empty trailer.

"Thank you so much for your help." I replied. 'And the eye candy.'

"Ah, shoot, 'tweren't nothin', darlin'. Hell, could even consider that mah workout fer tha day."

We shared a chuckle, and I offered him inside for a glass of water, but he politely declined. "Ain't right fer me ta impose, it bein' yer first day'n all." But he promised to take me up on that offer later, which I hoped he would.

He left, and I saw him walk across the road to a house directly opposite mine. Day one and I was already making friends. Well, acquaintances. Maybe, hopefully, friends further down the road.

-/-/-/-/-

Two weeks had passed and I was settling in just fine. My new job was paying well and less stressful than my old one, and my house had become a home very quickly.

Kyle had also taken a bit of a shine to me. Something I noticed was that he never addressed me by name, always "darlin'' or some other cute nickname, like 'honey' or "sweetie" or "cutie." He seemed to delight in how flustered that made me. Now and again we'd run into each other, or I'd catch him outside doing yardwork, or in his garage, fixing up his car. I was thankful my house had large windows; I could ogle all I wanted while I was at home.

Then one day, things took a bit of a turn.

Friday evening, I was sitting at home, unwinding after a long day at work. I had something on, but I wasn't particularly focused on it, my attention more drawn to my phone as I scrolled through Twitter.

Three heavy knocks on the door pulled my attention away, and upon opening the door, I was met with Kyle. He towered over me, dressed in a white vest top that was soaked with sweat. Gone was his Stetson, his messy black hair flowing in free, unfettered waves.

"Hate ta be imposin' on ya, darlin'," he spoke. "Wonder if ah might take ya up on that offer'a water from tha other day?"

"Of course!" I replied, maybe a little too fast, and waved him in.

Kyle had been mowing, which explained his attire, as well as the scent of fresh-cut grass mixing with his own musk. I all but forced him into a chair at the kitchen table and went to get him a glass. I figured he might want something to eat, too, so I went for the bread box. I'd just barely opened it when I felt his presence close to me, followed by his hand on my shoulder.

"Now, jus' what are you doin' there, cutie? You gettin' me a snack, too? You ain't gotta do that."

I blushed, stammering out my words. "O-Oh, it's no t-trouble at all. I figured you could use something quick to recharge."

His grip tightened as he turned me around. I just barely reached up to his chest, and his massive hand titled my chin up to meet his gaze. "Well, ah know sumthin' that'll charge me up better than bread and water, that's fer sure."

Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips to mine. He was rough, yet firm, keeping his grip on me tight. His tongue pushed its way through, invading my mouth, and I was hard in no time at all. It felt so much longer than it was, even though it was only a few seconds. When we broke apart, he smiled down at me with a hint of smugness. "Yeeeeep, that works jus' fine. Feel like I could go tha whole rest of tha day at full speed."

His eyes then turned to the tent I was pitching in my shorts, and he chortled. "Ain't that jus' tha sweetest thang. Lil' kiss like that got y'all all hot'n bothered?"

I was at a loss for words, still in aroused shock at Kyle's sudden move. His hand moved to palm my erection and I couldn't help but let out a moan.

"Ah believe ah asked y'all a question, darlin'. Ya liked that, didn't ya?"

"I did..." I whispered in reply, feeling my knees go weak.

"Well... iffin' ya want more, why don'tcha stop by mah place 'round nine tonight?"

Was this happening? Was this really happening? I all but shouted "Yes!" and after Kyle finished his water, he left. I blinked a few times and pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

Still awake.

-/-/-/-/-

Kyle said nine. I arrived at 8:30. I almost felt silly. It was like I was a high school girl with a crush, excited at the prospect of a first date. Would he think I was desperate? What was he really planning?

Despite being early, Kyle seemed to be expecting me; opening the door not long after I arrived. I'd always seen him in casual wear, and this was his house after all. But seeing him in the same outfit he wore hours before was a bit surprising.

"You sure don't dilly-dally, do ya, cutie?" he chuckled.

"S-Sorry, I must seem overeager."

He gave me a pat on the head, and my knees got that weak feeling again. "Ain't nuthin' wrong with bein' eager, darling. Ah like that, mahself. Step on in. And leave yer shoes by tha door."

I complied as I stepped inside, being met with the sight of a house teeming with rustic charm. Mellow earth tones blending with suburban charm to create a home that was cozy and freeing. What gave me pause, however, was a large deer head mounted over the fireplace.

"Oh, don't you mind that none." Kyle said as he caught me looking. "It's fake. Can't stomach tha idea of hurtin' a poor creature jus' ta prop it up like some fancy decoration."

God, could he get any cuter?

Something else I quickly noticed about Kyle as we toured the house. He was, to borrow some UK slang, teetotal. No drugs, not even cigarettes, and no alcohol anywhere in the house apart from medical supplies. He didn't even have cooking sherry. Such a thing was so exceedingly rare I almost didn't believe it.

"Hope you're alright with lemonade, darlin'." he said, making his way to the couch with a pair of glasses. He handed one to me and downed half of his in a single gulp, while I took sips of mine.

We spent the time chatting, typical neighbor small talk. I learned that Kyle worked in construction, owning and operating his own company. He'd raised up a strong client base and a loyal workforce, so apart from stopping in now and then to review projects and touch base with clients, he rarely has to actually go in himself. But he kept himself busy with home projects. Most of the furniture in the house were things he'd made himself, including the mahogany coffee table that looked like something out of a catalogue.

"That's so incredible!" I marveled. "I've never met anyone as handy as you."

"Aw, you flatter me, darlin'. Course, ah do more than chairs and tables."

"Oh?" I finished the last of my lemonade and scooted closer to him. "What else do you do?"

He chuckled, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Oooh... ah don't think you'd be int'rested, darling. Some'a that stuff's a mite unorthodox."

I insisted, assuring him that I could handle whatever he'd throw at me. He smirked, said "Alright, but don't say ah didn't warn ya.", and took my hand.

I tried my best not to let the butterflies lift me off the earth as he guided me to a door. He opened it and led me down a set of stairs, where another door waited. "Last chance, sweetheart. Ah won't think any less of you if--"

"Kyle. Show me."

"Alright, then."

I was expected something along the lines of more taxidermy, or abstract wooden art, maybe a life-size model of Anne Heche carved out of wood. Any of those things would've been less surprising than what I actually saw.

The first thing was the table, since it was in the dead center of the room. It was sturdy, wrapped in leather, and sported four shackles, two at the top, two at the bottom. Unlike most tables, instead of legs supporting it, it was a cage, just small enough that the average adult could fit inside, featuring a heavy padlock.

Off to the left was a large, X-shaped cross with thick leather straps for the limbs and middle. To the table's right was a large, triangular object with leather padding on the top. I couldn't help but notice it looked a bit like a horse, especially with the protrusion at the end.

Chains hung from the walls, many sporting their own shackles, and hanging on the walls were various kinds of tools and implements; paddles, masks, rubber balls with straps running through them, collars, and curiously enough, feathers.

I stood stock-still, at a loss for words.

"Suppose every fella's got their own version of a 'man cave'." spoke Kyle, seemingly oblivious to my surprise. "This is mah version of that. Got everythin' a thirsty tart would want down here."

"I... I..."

Kyle faced me, worry etched into his face. "You alright, darlin'? Christ, ah'm sorry, ah figured this was too much, lemme get you out of here and--"

"N-No!" I cut off. "I'm fine, just... surprised is all. I didn't expect..." I gestured my hand around. "All of this." I took a few deep, calming breaths and faced him with a smile. "Really, I'm fine."

"You sure now?" he asked.

"Really."

"Really really, darlin'?"

"Really really really."

That warm smile returned to his face and he patted my head. "Alright, then."

Taking my hand again, he guided me around his 'man cave' showing off his crafts and collections. I was astounded by how well he put all of the furnishings together and how sturdy they were. He wasn't just a craftsman, he was an artist.

When I asked him what drew him to this sort of stuff in particular, he said it was simple curiosity of "The sort of things people get freaky with." He was fascinated by the intricacies, how creative people could get, and how he could test his own limits and skills making such implements.

"But ain't like ah've found anyone ta even use these with." Kyle chuckled. "Tried before, but they'd get scared off jus' lookin' at 'em all. Yer tha first who ain't ran away screamin', darlin'."

"I'm not that much of a screamer." I laughed, feeling more at ease by the minute.

"Oh?" Kyle put his arm around my waist and brought me closer to him. "That a fact? Ya wanna test out that theory, darlin'?"

I blushed, the butterflies moving at top speed now. "H-H-How?"

Kyle dropped the flirting tone to say that, however things were going to go, I had total veto power. If there was anything I didn't want, I was to let him know loudly and clearly with a safeword (we decided on 'yardstick') and he'd stop immediately. Things felt so sudden and jarring, and yet, so natural. I knew Kyle. I knew he'd never do anything to hurt me. While this wasn't the most conventional way for a relationship to progress, it was one that felt... right.

"Ah think I wanna start ya off with somethin' soft." Kyle said, leading me to the center table. Ah don't wanna overload ya."

"Okay..." I replied, shaking in excitement.

I sat down on the table, but rather than the shackles, Kyle went off to a corner of the room and quickly returned with a long, wide piece of wood with four padded holes in it. In a show of ingenuity, it connected to the table's end and affixed firmly like an attachment. He opened it up and, after an approving nod from me, guided my ankles into the outer holes and closed it. There was a latch to the side for locking it, but he didn't turn it. "Ah don't wanna make ya feel too trapped right off tha bat, darlin'."

Seriously, how was he still single?

"So... what happens now?" I asked. Was I just supposed to sit around? Like a trophy or something? Actually, that sounded like a fairly hot idea.

Kyle smirked but stayed silent as he made his way to the part of the wall that held some feathers. He pulled one down, long, white, and fluffy. He came back to me, waving it teasingly.

"... What are you gonna do with that?" I asked, having a strong feeling I already knew the answer.

"Take a wild guess, darlin'." Kyle chuckled, pinching the toe of my sock. Slowly, he tugged it off, exposing my bare feet to the cool air. He did the same to the other, setting the socks aside on a small end table. "Damn, you've got some nice feet..."

"O-Oh... thanks?" What was I supposed to say? No one had ever given my feet a compliment before. Kyle stared at them, almost seeming to forget himself, before taking the feather and lightly brushing it against my sole.

"Eeek!" I shouted, immediately clasping my hands over my mouth. Kyle looked up at me with a smug grin, his eyes twinkling with glee.

"What was that about y'all not bein' a screamer, cutie?"

"Th-That wasn't a scream! I was... just surprised is aaaaaaah!" He brushed the feather against my foot again and I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.

"What was that, now?"

I tried to shoot back a reply, but yet another brush of the feather forced a burst of giggles from me. He lingered this time, swishing the feather against my trapped foot. I tried my best, but I couldn't pull my feet out, and I couldn't hold my laughter in. "St-Stahahaaap!"

"Oooooh, that's a cuuuute laugh, darlin'." Kyle teased, brushing the feather up and down my foot. "Got a few more in ya?"

I covered my face with my hands, hoping to cover my blush. "Sh-Shut up! You're so meheheheeeaaaaaan!"

"Got a mouth on you! That'll cost ya!"

I barely had time to muster up a reply when Kyle sawed the feather between my big and second toe. It was a weak spot I didn't even know I had, the tickly feeling sending shocks throughout my entire body. I squirmed, spasmed, and laughed, and despite the situation, I felt lighter than air. Like I was being carried away on a cloud. A tickly, breezing cloud.

"C'mon, gimme more of that laugh, cutie! I wanna... oh..."

He pulled away the feather, and I realized why. Without even realizing it, I'd tented my shorts again. My blush deepened as Kyle stared at my erection, the feather forgotten in his hand.

Several thoughts swam through my head as I tried to will it down. The biggest one screaming at the forefront: was I turned on by this? But he didn't even touch me, unless you count the feather! And was that even a thing?

I flinched slightly as Kyle tried to tilt my chin to meet him, and he immediately stepped back. "S-Sorry about that, darlin'. Are ya alright?"

I nodded, taking in a deep breath and feeling the aftershocks of pleasurable shakes. "I'm okay, I'm okay. That was just... that was something..."

Kyle unlocked me from the device, giving my ankles some gentle rubs. Thanks to the padding, there were no marks or injuries, not even slight bruising or scrapes. He sat up on the table with me, cradling me gently in his arms. I insisted I was fine, but he wanted to make sure.

"How do you feel, darlin'?" he asked as he gently thumbed my cheek.

"I'm alright." I replied, settling into the crook of his arm. "I never dealt with anything like that before. That was so strange, but it felt so... good."

Kyle quirked an eyebrow. "Think ah might've opened a door for ya, hun. Wasn't really countin' on that."

A thought entered my head. "Wait... did you... did you invite me over to do this?"

"Not in tha slightest!" Kyle replied. "Ah had no idea ya'd react like this. Ah didn't even think ah'd get ya down here."

"So, then... why did you invite me over?"

He blushed, rubbing his head sheepishly. "Well, uh... ah just... thought you were cute and all. I liked bein' 'round you. Ah enjoyed yer company. A-And... s'long as we're bein' honest... ah ended up gettin' a lil' crush on ya."

I never really understood the term "blue screened" before now; I was at a total loss for words. All through my life I've never been confessed to. I've never even gone on a date before! I never thought love would find me at this age, with this guy, in a place like this. So it wasn't a typical love story.

But it was a fun one all the same.

After we stepped out of the "man cave", we passed the time by making out on his surprisingly comfortable couch. Even though he topped, he didn't crush me with his size, and was gentle as he took the lead. He snuck in a few tickles here and there, as if he was trying to find more weak spots, and made a teasing verbal note with each new one he found.

As hard as I got, he never went far with it, just gentle palming that would leave me wanting more whenever he moved his hand. In trying to get him back, when he parted his legs to adjust himself, I gently brushed my hand against his own erection. He shuddered and let out a moan, easily the sexiest sound I'd heard in my life. He gave me a starry-eyed look like he'd found paradise, before we went back to making out again.

Time seemed to fade away as we had our fill and eventually settled into cuddling. Much as I wanted to stay over, I couldn't. At least not tonight. Kyle was saddened, but understanding, and gave me both a goodnight kiss and a grope on my ass as I left, saying "Can't wait to see you again, darlin'. Ah wanna hear more of that cute laugh'a yours."

God, what he could do to me...

The instant I got home, I raced to my computer and started Google searching.

[aroused by tickling]

[wooden board with holes in it -paddle -paddles]

[feather tickling]

[liking being restrained]

[what is it called to like being tickled]

I whiled away the midnight hours searching up everything I could about what happened tonight. The strange and exciting feelings that made themselves known, that excited me so much and, like Kyle said, opened a door.

The searching led me to some interesting places. Interesting sites. Interesting pictures. And even more interesting videos. I researched until I heard birds singing and saw light coming through my window, and I only stopped when I was too exhausted to keep typing.

In the space of a night, I'd learned more about Kyle's world than I thought possible, and apart from tired, I was excited. I was leaping through the door with bells on, eager to make as much noise possible.

The kind of noise Kyle would love...

[END]