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High Steaks (MM/M)

LostSole

Registered User
Joined
Aug 27, 2024
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5
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To those who knew him, 28-year-old Bo was a gentle giant, towering at 6 foot 6 inches and nearly 300 pounds. His slightly chubby frame, mop of soft brown curls, gentle brown eyes, and goofy, lovable personality had a way of turning any room into a place filled with laughter.

Bo had been living in the apartment complex for about six months, sharing the space with two guys who felt more like acquaintances than friends. They got along well enough, but they mostly kept to themselves, drifting around the apartment like ships passing in the night. The place had the typical clutter of a shared home: mismatched furniture, a couch sagging from too many late-night movies, and a coffee table scattered with empty soda cans and junk mail that no one ever bothered to open.

Earlier that evening, Bo had gone to visit Jason, a buddy who lived in the apartment building next door. The night was mellow, Jason having just scored a fresh stash. The hours blurred together as they smoked and laughed about things that would hardly make sense the next day. The room felt thick with the haze of relaxation.

After some time, Bo, feeling adventurous, downed an entire edible despite Jason’s warning. Jason had looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You sure, man? That might hit you hard."

But Bo, ever the carefree spirit, just grinned. "Come on, someone my size with my tolerance? I could probably eat two and be fine."

The effects came slowly, a warm, tingling sensation that started in his chest and spread through his limbs, making them feel heavy, almost filled with sand. The room began to sway gently, like a boat rocking on calm waters. Bo felt a peculiar mix of relaxation and nausea stirring within him.

When it was finally time to head back to his apartment, it took him longer than usual to summon the energy to stand. The hallway outside Jason's door stretched before him like a never-ending tunnel, his steps feeling as though they echoed from a distance. The walls seemed to tilt ever so slightly, as if the building itself were breathing, in and out. His heart thudded in his chest, each beat a reminder to keep walking—left foot, right foot. He focused on moving, willing himself not to stumble as he made his way down the steps toward his building.

He reached the front of his building but couldn’t quite remember his apartment number. Was it 674 or 746? Panic crept in as his foggy mind spun, his heart racing, skin slick with sweat. His hands fumbled with the key as he reached his apartment door, the lock seeming to resist, as though the door itself knew he didn’t belong there. But finally, he managed to push it open, oblivious to the fact that it had been slightly ajar.

The scent of the apartment greeted him, but something felt... wrong. The air was too clean, like fresh laundry mixed with a hint of cologne. His mind, clouded by the edible, couldn’t pinpoint what was off.

Maybe they cleaned up, Bo thought, chuckling to himself, knowing his roommates rarely bothered to pick up after themselves. He shrugged off the unease, his stomach growling from the munchies as he stumbled inside, not even bothering to turn on the light.

Everything felt subtly wrong. The couch seemed larger, the coffee table slightly out of place, but Bo’s sluggish brain chalked it up to the edible playing tricks on his senses. His head swam, and he beelined for the kitchen, driven by the overpowering need to eat something. Anything.

Without turning on the light, he opened the fridge, surprised to find it on the opposite side of the room from where it usually stood. Confused, he brushed it off as just another weird edible effect. He leaned in, his thick wrists barely fitting between the shelves, searching for the leftover steak dinner he was sure he'd stashed earlier. But it was gone. Annoyed, he started muttering under his breath, rifling through the fridge.

Where is my stuff?

As he shifted things around, his unease deepened. Unfamiliar containers sat on the shelves—brands he didn’t recognize, foods he never bought. His large hands trembled slightly as the realization began to creep in, slowly wrapping itself around his drug-addled mind like a thick fog.

This isn’t right.

His chest tightened, panic building like a rising tide. Where’s my stuff? He thought again, louder this time, almost hearing the words echo in his head. Just then, the door behind him creaked open.

Bo didn’t bother turning around, assuming it was one of his roommates. "Hey! Did one of you guys eat my food? I can’t find it," he called out, his voice more slurred than he intended.

Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. A deep, unfamiliar voice broke through the haze. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Bo frowned, still bent over the fridge, his hands now frozen in place. That didn’t sound like either of his roommates. He straightened slowly, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. "What do you mean? I’m looking for my food. Did you eat it or something?"

The man stepped closer, and Bo could feel the shift in the room—thick with tension. His heart skipped a beat, the relaxed buzz from earlier replaced with sharp unease. Suddenly, the kitchen light flicked on, and Bo squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust.

Standing before him were two men he had never seen before. Both were about average height but built solidly, with the rough look of men who'd seen trouble more than once. The slightly taller one, Nathan, had close-cropped blond hair and a square jaw, dressed simply in a gray hoodie and jeans. His sharp hazel eyes scrutinized Bo with a mix of confusion and suspicion, taking in Bo’s sheer size with a wary kind of awe. James, the shorter but more muscular of the two, had his dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Tattoos snaked down his right forearm, and a black t-shirt hugged his broad frame, hinting at his physical strength. His face, however, showed only growing irritation.

Bo stood frozen, the fridge door still hanging open behind him.

The two men exchanged a quick glance, their shock and confusion quickly shifting to wariness. Bo's towering presence was impossible to ignore, and though he was clearly not a threat in his altered state, the sheer size of him put them on guard.

Bo’s heart sank as the realization hit—this wasn’t his apartment. How did I screw up this badly? he wondered, his foggy mind racing to piece together how he had managed to walk into the wrong place. Panic surged through him, but in his current state, rational thought was out of reach. Instead, absurdity took over, and Bo burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Wow! Ohohoho, my God! Hahaha I’m sohoho sorry!” Bo gasped between fits of laughter. “I took hehehe an edible—ahahaha—and I guehehehess I got lost? Hahaha! I thought thihihis was my place! Ahaha!”

Nathan, the more laid-back of the two, chuckled, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “Man, you really thought you were home, didn’t you?” There was humor in his voice, but a guarded edge lurked beneath it.

James, on the other hand, wasn’t as amused. His eyes stayed fixed on Bo as he took a step closer. “What’s your name?”

“Bo,” he managed between lingering giggles. “My name’s Bo.”

“Well, Bo, what are you doing in our apartment?” James’s tone was stern, leaving no room for jokes.

Bo’s eyes darted between the two men, his laughter bubbling up again despite the tension. “I swear, I thought thihihis wahahas mine! I didn’t mehehehean to—ahaha—break in or anythihihing! I’m sohohoho sorry! Hehehe!” he explained, struggling to control his laughter.

James wasn’t convinced. “Sit down,” he said gruffly, gesturing to a large, antique wooden chair shoved into the corner of the kitchen, its high back and wide seat almost looking like a throne. Bo, still laughing and eager to show he meant no harm, clumsily followed the command. His movements were exaggerated, each step feeling heavier as the edible clouded his balance.

“Man, this guy’s high as a kite,” Nathan muttered, shaking his head. He opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a handful of large zip ties. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.”

Before Bo could even process what was happening, Nathan had his thick wrists bound to the high back of the chair, positioning his hands awkwardly above his head. James followed suit, securing Bo’s ankles to the chair legs.

"What the hell’s so funny now?" James asked, patting Bo down with firm, methodical hands to ensure he wasn’t carrying any weapons. But the invasive search, combined with Bo's heightened senses, turned every touch into an unbearable tickle.

“Stahahap it! You’re tihihickling mehehehe!” Bo wheezed, his voice cracking as he writhed in the chair, the sensation of James’s hands too much for him to handle. Tears streamed down his face as his body convulsed with uncontrollable laughter.

Nathan watched the scene with growing amusement. “This is too good,” he said, grinning as James stepped back. “Why don’t we have a little fun with Pillsbury Doughboy over here?”

A smirk crossed James’s face as he began to see the humor in the situation. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Nathan took a step back, giving James more room. James leaned in close, lightly tracing his fingers along Bo’s sides, just below his ribs. The touch was delicate at first, almost playful, but Bo’s reaction was instant. His body jerked, a deep belly laugh bursting from his chest as he tried to twist away from the ticklish sensation. His laughter quickly morphed into high-pitched giggles, especially when James zeroed in on a particularly sensitive spot.

“HAHAHA! NOHOHO! NOT THERE! AHAHAHA!” Bo shrieked, his voice growing desperate as James’s fingers dug into his ribs, eliciting louder, more frantic laughter.

Pleased with the reaction, James pressed harder, his fingers working up Bo’s sides. The deeper the tickle, the more Bo squirmed, his laughter turning breathless and wild.

“HAHAHA! PLEAHEHEHESE! HAHAHA! STOP!” Bo gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks as he thrashed in the chair. But James wasn’t done. His hands moved higher, inching toward Bo’s underarms—fully exposed thanks to the zip ties keeping his wrists suspended above his head.

As soon as James’s fingers brushed the sensitive skin under Bo’s arms, the reaction was explosive. Bo let out a loud, piercing shriek, his body jolting as if electrocuted. His laughter became hysterical, each touch setting off a chain reaction of uncontrollable laughter and spasms.

“HAHAHA! NOT THEHEHERE! AHAHAHA!” Bo screamed, his voice cracking as he struggled to catch his breath. Every inch of his skin felt alive, the sensation amplified by the edible coursing through his system.

James watched with an amused grin, clearly entertained by the display. His fingers danced faster, pressing into the soft flesh beneath Bo’s arms, forcing peals of laughter from his captive.

Not wanting to be left out, Nathan joined in. He crouched down and lightly tickled Bo’s belly, his fingers tracing along the soft rolls of Bo’s stomach. The combination of tickling from both men was too much.

Bo’s laughter reached a new level of desperation. “HAHAHA! I CAN'T BREAHEHEHETHE! AHAHAHA!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried in vain to pull away. His body jerked violently, trying to escape the relentless tickling, but the zip ties held him firmly in place.

James, now fully invested in the game, focused his attack on Bo’s underarms, his fingers moving faster, more aggressively. Bo’s face flushed crimson as he laughed so hard he could barely breathe, his laughter reduced to gasps and high-pitched giggles.

Nathan, curious about how ticklish Bo's feet might be, decided to put his theory to the test. He knelt down, quickly slipping off Bo’s shoes and socks before gently brushing his fingers along the sole of Bo’s right foot. The reaction was immediate—Bo’s leg jerked and he let out another booming laugh.

“HAHAHA! NAHAHAT MY FEHEHEET! PLEAHEHEHESE! AHAHAHA!” Bo begged, his voice hoarse from the sheer intensity of the tickling. He tried to pull his feet away, but the zip ties secured him tightly to the chair. Nathan grinned as he alternated between light strokes and firmer touches, each one sending Bo into fits of breathless laughter.

The sensation was overwhelming; every nerve in Bo’s body seemed to be on fire, every touch electric. The kitchen light felt blinding, his head spinning in dizzy circles. The sound of his own wild laughter echoed around him, almost as if it belonged to someone else.

“Man, this guy is too much!” Nathan said with a wide grin, watching Bo’s face twist in helpless laughter. “I’ve never seen someone so ticklish in my life!”

James, now thoroughly enjoying himself, intensified his efforts, his fingers digging mercilessly into Bo’s underarms. At the same time, Nathan kept working on Bo’s feet, his nimble fingers exploring every sensitive spot. Bo’s laughter reached new heights, turning frantic as his body jerked uncontrollably in the chair. He struggled to squirm away from the ticklish assault, but the zip ties held him firmly in place. The sensations, heightened by the edible, overwhelmed him; every touch felt like electricity running through his body, pushing his mind further into chaos.

His chest heaved, gasping for breath between fits of hysterical laughter. His brain, already scrambled from the edible, could no longer keep up with the onslaught of sensations. Time felt distorted, stretching and compressing until it seemed like this strange ordeal had lasted an eternity.

Finally, after what felt like an unbearable stretch of time, Nathan and James relented. They stepped back, both grinning as Bo slumped forward in the chair, his muscles twitching with exhaustion. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his face flushed and glistening with sweat. For a few moments, Bo just sat there, his body still shaking as he tried to regain control, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

“Sorry about all that, Bo,” Nathan said, his tone much friendlier now, tinged with amusement. “But you’re just way too ticklish for your own good.”

Bo could only manage a weak chuckle, still gasping for breath. “No worries, man. I... I guess I had it coming, breaking into your place and all.”

James crossed his arms, his gaze steady but sharp. “You know, most people wouldn’t have handled this like we did.”

Bo, still catching his breath and shaking off the remnants of laughter, nodded. “I... I’m sorry. I honestly thought this was my place,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Nathan leaned down, cutting the zip ties from Bo’s wrists and ankles. “No hard feelings, man, but you gotta be more careful. Could’ve been a real mess if you’d wandered into the wrong apartment.”

Bo gently massaged his wrists. “Yeah, I know. This is a wake-up call,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

James shook his head, his stern expression softening just a bit, though his words still carried weight. “Not everyone’s going to be this understanding, Bo. Keep that in mind.”

Bo swallowed hard. “Yeah. Trust me, lesson learned.”

He stood slowly, his legs shaky beneath him, and offered a sheepish grin. “Thanks for not freaking out.”

Nathan laughed, clapping Bo on the back with a heavy hand. “Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky. Next time, make sure you’re in the right place before raiding the fridge.”

Bo smiled, embarrassed but relieved. “Will do. I’ll be double-checking from now on.”

As Bo stumbled toward the door, his legs still wobbly, Nathan called out with a grin. “And maybe lay off the edibles, huh?”

Bo couldn’t help but laugh, replaying the scene in his head. “Good idea. I’ll take it easy next time.”

Reaching the threshold, he glanced back to see Nathan and James now casually leaning against the kitchen counter, beers in hand, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Bo gave them a final nod of gratitude before stepping into the hallway. The cool air hit him like a wake-up call, and with each step farther from the apartment, the reality of what had just happened sank in.

He made his way down the hall, still chuckling to himself. The edible had amplified every sensation, making the night feel surreal—almost like a bizarre dream. Did that really just happen? He shook his head, the laughter bubbling up again. He couldn’t believe he’d walked into the wrong apartment and gone through all that.

Reaching his own apartment door, this time double-checking the number to make sure it was his, Bo fumbled for his key and let himself in. The familiar, cluttered space felt like a sanctuary after the strange ordeal he’d just endured. His roommates were still out, and the place was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded next door.

Bo trudged through the living room, heading straight for his bedroom. He barely made it to the bed before collapsing onto it, his body sinking into the mattress like a stone dropped into water. The adrenaline had finally worn off, leaving him completely drained. He stared up at the ceiling, the events of the night replaying in his mind with a kind of disbelief.

As the effects of the edible still buzzed faintly in his veins, Bo couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He’d gone from a simple visit with a friend to an accidental break-in, getting tied up, tickled half to death, and somehow walking away unscathed. What a night.

He closed his eyes, his body still trembling with residual giggles. One thing was certain—he’d be more careful with edibles in the future. With a final chuckle, Bo drifted off to sleep, the laughter echoing softly in his dreams.

THE END
 
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