Mob brushed his teeth in the bathroom tiredly as he readied himself for a good night’s rest. It had been a long day. Shishou had taken him out of town for an exorcism, said that the clients in the next town over had a haunted house. The evil spirit was strong, but nothing Mob couldn’t handle, at least. He did count every successful exorcism nowadays. After the time he lost to that man whose name he dared not think about, Mob no longer took his psychic powers for granted.
After cleaning his teeth, Mob began to diligently wash his face. He still thought about that time, a year ago from today. The memories were difficult to live with, but he did.
Hopefully he would never see that awful man again.
His parents were out of the house for a couple of days, leaving him alone to take care of Ritsu. But Ritsu was mostly taking care of him. He knew that this anniversary was hard for his big brother. Mob had told him, after a lot of hesitation, what had happened in Mogami’s world.
Ritsu would be coming home pretty soon since they planned to put two futons on Mob’s bedroom floor. Ritsu knew Mob needed to have company and offered to sleep in his room tonight.
Grateful, Mob would wait for his beloved younger brother to return before trying to go to sleep. He rinsed his face and glanced up for a moment at the mirror.
For a split second, he thought that a tall man, wearing a moth eaten shirt and an olive green suit, was behind him.
He gasped and looked around, heart hammering. The bathroom was empty except for him. He let out a shaky sigh, thinking his trauma might have made him hallucinate. Mob ran a hand through his dark hair and took deep, calming breaths. When he let his anxiety go, he tried twisting the doorknob to open the door.
There was one little problem, however— the doorknob would not budge.
It was stuck. Mob tried to twist it again, confused.
“Is it broken…?” Mob muttered to himself.
A weight descended on Mob’s shoulder, making him jump slightly.
“Ah…!” it was a large hand. Such yellowed, chipped fingernails.
The only person he knew who could have such a hand was...
“Good evening, Kageyama-kun.” said Mogami as Mob whipped himself around.
Shigeo backed himself against the door, eyes going wide as saucers to take in the sight of the man who’d tortured him for six months.
“I-I thought you were…” his voice quavered before he clammed up and rapidly started to press and squeeze the door handle, desperate to put some distance between them.
“Please…!” he whimpered when the doorknob remained stuck. Mogami, behind him, laughed at his struggle.
“It will open when I think it’s time.” he said, his voice velvety. He was in control. “For now, you should know what I came here for.”
He slanted himself so that his chin slotted with Mob’s neck. He breathed in deeply; Kageyama-kun smelled sweet.
“All I ask is that you give me an hour of play.” he murmured into Mob’s skin.
Mob screeched and pushed back at the monster to keep him away. The spirit laughed again, his form dissolving in a cloud of dark smoke at the sudden contact.
“I wonder how long you can keep running?” he said as his face disappeared. Mob made a choked noise.
The door clicked open suddenly and Mob was out of the bathroom in a flash. He still heard Mogami’s voice, felt his touch. It took him back, made him weak with fear. He stumbled down the hall to his bedroom.
He heard footsteps on the stairs. Mob knew it wasn’t Ritsu returning. They creaked with a heavier weight.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are~” the spirit’s profile was cast in shadow on the wall, petrifying poor Shigeo.
Mob dashed into his parents’ bedroom. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. Why had Mogami come back? What did he really want? This was sick and unfair.
There was no time to waste. Mogami wanted to catch him and he needed to hide.
Mob fretfully spent a second or two trying to decide whether to hide under the bed or in the closet. Time would run out at any moment. Mogami was in his house—he needed to decide now!
Mob scurried into the closet and slid the door closed as quickly, and as quietly, as he could. Here in the cramped darkness, his jaw hit his knees, but under the bed, the claustrophobia would have been worse. Mob barely had the wits to appreciate the fact.
Sweat ran over his skin in cold droplets. He wondered if Mogami would be able to smell the fear soaking into his body. Such a thought induced swaths of goose flesh to run up his arms. He swallowed a shudder as the sound of the door creaking open alerted him the hunter was here. Mob’s blood turned to ice as he strained to listen to every small movement in the room behind the closet. He could see nothing; he didn’t know if Mogami was far away or close. What if his breathing was too loud? Mob clasped his hand over his mouth and nose, taking note of how wet and slippery his skin had become.
“Kageyama-kun...” said the evil spirit, his voice floating on the edge of a sing-song tone, “Where are you~”
Mob couldn’t stifle a whimper at that point. The mere sound of Mogami’s voice made Mob want to scream out of terror. Memories of the ghost whispering into his mind, breaking all the barriers that should have been there, brought him right back to that period of time in hell. He froze and tried to avoid breathing completely. What if the monster heard him?
It was too late. Just a moment of silence was all that was necessary for Mogami to track the source of the plaintive noise. The closet door slid open suddenly, making a sharp clack against the wooden frame. Terror-stricken prey and smug predator were face to face a split second before Shigeo screamed. His voice echoed throughout the house, verging on a shrill sob. It was over. He was going to be caught. Mob backed himself further into the closet space as if he could escape somehow, but he’d hit a dead end.
Mogami, who chuckled at Mob’s fear, seemed to notice he’d cornered the boy and stepped back as if to magnanimously offer Mob a second chance of escape. His prey looked to him, then to the bedroom door quickly, fear-crazed pupils darting between the threat and the exit, weighing their risk. All of this happened quickly, but to Mogami and Shigeo, each move and countermove felt deliberate, a familiar game of cat and mouse.
Mob didn’t want to give up and be Mogami’s prey so soon.
He hurled his whole body out of the closet, what little muscles he had burning with adrenaline. He grasped the door handle and fell into the empty hallway—he’d made it—but Mogami could strike and grab him at any time. Mob’s breathing had gone ragged, and his sweat dampened skin felt both feverish and cold. This chase made his heart beat so quickly he felt that stopping would cause him nausea. He couldn’t stop. He had to keep going, keep resisting. He stumbled down the stairs, practically gliding on the steps with no time to settle. Shigeo was afraid for his life. Mogami was laughing behind him.
There had to be a way out of this. Out of desperation Mob found himself running into the entryway of his home to attempt unlocking the door. The knob wouldn’t budge, in fact becoming slick from his sweaty hands. Escaping with his powers was the only option. Mob pushed with his mind, applying gradual pressure on the doorway at a sharper rate of increase than he normally would. He had no time to be careful or patient.
The door rattled with a tremendous vibration, but remained bolted to the wall. Mob tried to force a hole into any part of the outer wall he could find. It was useless, he realized with horror. Mogami had mapped out Shigeo’s entire house with his poltergeist powers, and locked it, tightly, within a barrier. There was no way out.
With his legs shaking violently, Mob couldn’t stand any longer. Fear sapped his strength and made him fall to his knees. He hugged himself and tried to wake up from this nightmare. He hadn’t heard Mogami approaching to stand behind him. The spirit smiled down at the vulnerable boy, bowed at the hip to lean in close to Mob’s ear, and blew cold air into it, causing Mob to yelp and scramble backwards.
Mob pressed himself against the wall to avoid the spirit as he dove past him into the kitchen. Mogami’s return had brought the adrenaline back, reinvigorating Mob’s legs. As long as he could see Mogami he remembered why it was so important to stay away from him as much as possible. He didn’t want those monstrous hands touching him. He didn’t care what Mogami intended to do. Each brush with those hands felt like a burning mark on Mob’s skin.
The empty kitchen offered him no solace except for added distance from the evil spirit. Why hadn’t Mogami-san snatched him up yet? He’d gotten several chances to do it so far. Mob suddenly felt embarrassed. What if Mogami was enjoying watching his panicked state, getting a perverse thrill from the hunt and extending the hunt as long as he could until he’d exhausted his prey? Coming near and then letting Mob escape, repeatedly, just to give him hope and then squash it. Mob leaned against the kitchen counter, his heart beating so fast he felt close to fainting. Somehow, knowing that Mogami was in no hurry to kill him, and thought of this as a game, made Mob’s fear even worse.
“There you are~”
Suddenly Mob’s heart was in his throat. Mogami was right behind him, now, towering over him like a messenger of the blackest night. Mob saw how visibly Mogami’s evil expression marred the face that would be considered handsome under different circumstances.
“Are you having fun, Kageyama-kun...?” he asked, hand falling to caress Mob’s smooth cheek.
Mob stumbled back and tripped on the rug in the middle of the dining area, falling on his hands and knees, before attempting to crawl away quickly. Before he could get right to his feet, a large, powerful hand took each of his thin ankles and dragged him back. Mob knew it would burn and it did. Mogami laughed as Mob cried out in terror and attempted to kick his legs out of Mogami’s hold, to no avail.
“Stop! P-Please!” Shigeo cried, tears just starting to spill. He gripped the floor, fingernails scratching at the wood until Mogami drew him all the way underneath his broad-shouldered form, trapping him.
When Mob realized how flush their bodies were he gasped loudly.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” He shouted in the ghost’s face while still trying to push himself out from under his captor in anyway possible— a difficult task when Mogami’s hands had both his wrists in an inescapable hold near his head.
Mogami chuckled, a sound that made all of Mob’s hairs stand on end. He tried to calm his breathing as the dead psychic told him, plainly and without adornment, “Have you forgotten so easily how much fun we had together?”
“S-Stay away from me! We’re not in your world anymore!” Mob shuddered, wriggling in Mogami’s grip, “I beat you once...!”
“Hmm... And yet, I wasn’t able to disappear. I can never rest in peace, Kageyama-kun... You know that...”
He leaned low so that Mob could feel the heat of Mogami’s breath on his neck. The boy renewed his struggle to free himself but froze when he felt soft lips on his throat.
“My grudge runs deeper.”
“W-What...? M-Mogami-san...!” Mob stammered as Mogami Keiji’s lips moved against his neck, tongue flicking out to taste him.
“Ah, wait, no...!”
Mogami enjoyed becoming one with the vibrations of Mob’s voice, hearing him and feeling him at the same time.
“Such a warm body…” he mused.
This was too much. Mob didn’t understand. He whimpered miserably and tried to imagine this wasn’t happening. His wrists were pinned uselessly at his sides.
“Stop... Stop!” Mob gasped, terrified of the mature body pressing into his. Oh god, despite being a ghost, Mogami Keiji was heavy... and warm... and something big and hard was laying close to his crotch... he didn’t want to think about what it was until Mogami gyrated his hips just so-
“Ah-!” Mob’s stomach did somersaults when Mogami’s bulge roamed over his. He sobbed—the contact was making him go firm. Mogami knew what he was doing. Mob huffed and panted, tears falling down his cheeks as he realized this was another game Mogami was playing with him, to push him over the brink of his sanity.
“Since you left the mental world, I’ve been waiting to see you again...” Mogami’s voice was a low, animalistic rumble over Mob’s tear-stained cheek while he gyrated his hips against Mob’s, listening to the boy’s muffled moans. “After losing to you, I found out that I can’t be torturing you the way I used to anymore...”
Slowly, his thumbs began to run up and down the sensitive undersides of Mob’s wrists.
In the midst of all these confusing sensations, Mob thought it was strange.
He almost felt like laughing, the way it tickled.
Mogami sat himself back. He gave Mob space to breathe while looming over him, a bird-of-prey focused on his delicious little morsel, before glancing at the wall clock.
“I wonder how long you can bear this kind of torture...?” He said softly, such that Mob almost didn’t hear him.
Mob stared into those dark brown eyes, completely innocent of what Mogami meant.
Mogami’s grip slowly slackened on Shigeo’s wrists to run his ghostly touch from Mob’s wrist to his elbow, and then up again, the lightness of the caress teasing Mob’s skin.
“Ah, w-what are you doing?” Mob whined as a different kind of flush bloomed on his cheeks. He squirmed uncomfortably. His forearms felt so ticklish when Mogami did that!
“Does it feel unbearable?” asked Mogami quietly as he switched from caressing Mob’s forearms to doing the same to his upper arms. Mob gasped at the sensation of Mogami’s fingers tracing lightly over his brachialis, before taking a long, skimming stroke from his elbow, over smooth biceps, toward the private region of his armpits. Mob squealed and yanked his arms down, trapping Mogami’s fingers under them, but Mogami continued to prod that sensitive place. Mob moaned with discomfort and shut his eyes.
“You are probably used to friends and family doing this, to get a harmless laugh out of you. Aren’t you?”
“S-Stop, Mogami-san... Oh! It... t-tickles!” Mob panted, giggling against his will.
Tears began to stream down Shigeo’s face once more as Mogami effortlessly freed his hands to begin touching Mob’s belly. He lifted Mob’s shirt over his chest despite the boy’s pleas to stop, and ran the tips of his fingers up and down Mob’s gently sloping sides to torment him.
“Aah! Aha-haha! S-Stop!” Shigeo sobbed, making futile attempts to protect himself from Mogami’s tickle monster hands. It didn’t matter if Mob tried to guard his sides because Mogami had already moved on to tickling his ribs and skimming his soft belly. No matter where Mob concentrated his efforts to stop the tickling, Mogami always found another area of Mob’s body to molest.
“Haha! Ah! Aha! No!” Mob squawked when Mogami’s fingers seemed to be everywhere at once. It almost didn’t matter if he tried to defend himself from Mogami’s merciless tickle attack. In Mob’s panic he felt as though many invisible hands were touching him all over his body. Mogami’s expression was one of single-minded absorption in Shigeo’s reactions. Mogami even flipped Mob over to access his back, making him arch away from the torturously irksome ministrations on his shoulder blades and spine.
“Oooh~! Aha! S-S-St-o-o-o-p~! Ahaha! Mogami-san~!” Mob cried in between breathless laughter. His lungs hurt from laughing. Every time he felt the touch of Mogami’s hands he jerked away hard but he could never escape because another wave of torture was waiting for his body on the other side. Mogami flipped him over again. The tickling ran up from his feet and his arms; Mob didn’t know how one man could be everywhere at once like that. He’d clenched his eyes shut long ago because his tears blinded him anyway and he could never ascertain where Mogami would tickle him next. Occasionally, he opened one eye and could see Mogami’s hands spidering up and down his body but nothing he saw could explain why he felt it everywhere. Mogami was all over him at once, perhaps helped by the weaker evil spirits he controlled, enthusiastically making Mob lose his voice from laughter.
Mob’s hyperventilation escalated until he was purple in the face. Mogami sat back and watched, with satisfaction, the way Mob shuddered on the floor trying to catch his breath, streaks of tears running down his cherubic face. Shigeo still had an erection. How cute.
The ghost looked at the clock.
“Kageyama-kun. Look at you. I said I’d stay for at least another hour.”
He smirked and held Mob’s jaw in his hand, turning Mob’s head to make him look at the clock.
“This torture has only lasted for thirty seconds.”
Mob’s breath hitched. He let out a pained moan, trying to get his strength back to run away but his body was too slow for Mogami’s viper strike. His hands were once again pinned above his head, and his body was baring everything he had to offer to his torturer, including his embarrassing erection. Mogami’s evil chuckle reverberated in the room as Mob weakly struggled.
“P-Please let me go...” Shigeo whimpered.
“If you’re lucky, I’ll let you go when I said I would.” Mogami told him, coming close to a shrinking Mob.
“An hour is too long...” Mob started hyperventilating again as panic reanimated him, “I-can’t do that for an hour! Please!”
Mogami nodded and glanced at the clock. “An hour is a long time” he whispered inside Mob’s ear. Mogami began to run his ring finger up and down Shigeo’s obliques as he spoke, reveling in Shigeo’s bothered noises and the twist of his head, his precious struggling, his cutely bobbing cock. “But you must understand, Kageyama-kun. I missed you while I was away. I can’t just leave you alone, unless you give me something I want.”
“What do you want!?” Mob gasped, shaking. He slammed his legs shut— it felt like more of those ghostly hands were exploring his inner thighs. His erection was untouched and fit to burst with blood. He sobbed and tried to keep breathing.
“I want your mind.” said Mogami over the pink shell of Mob’s ear. “I want to scramble your brains and make you forget you own yourself. I want to be the one who owns you again.”
Why did Mob get even harder hearing those awful words? Mob shook his head violently as if to deny it.
“M-My... life... is... my... own...” Mob tried to say before a gasp stole his voice.
“Aaah!” Mob cried, bucking when an invisible fingertip glided up his clothed erection. Mob couldn’t help that his hips bucked wildly in response. He moaned through a series of quick breaths. Mogami’s brief laughter at the sight made Mob blush from the neck up.
“Oh...” Shigeo whined, pathetically short of breath, “This... this isn’t fair!”
Mogami licked his lips. Kageyama-kun was just too appetizing in his shyness.
“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you...” he said under his breath.
“N-No, Mogami-san! WAIT!”
He descended on Mob with all the restless fervor of a million wicked spirits... Mob tried to raise his legs to kick Mogami away but before he knew it he was literally drowning in sensations all over his body, all of them tickling, but in every way, in every place. It were as if Mogami had been testing Mob before to see how ticklish Mob thought he was, before making his victim aware it could be so much worse. Mob was screaming, his shrieks of laughter echoing off the walls of the empty house. Every second of laughter forced out of Mob flexed his abs uncontrollably, so that after another thirty seconds of this torture Mob was gasping for air and suffering the pain of muscle exhaustion. Mogami would relent only for the opportunity to take Mob by surprise; targeting specific regions of Mob’s body to make him cry out in alarm and try to shrink away from it uselessly.
He loved how buttery and soft Kageyama-kun’s body was, the way it almost seemed to melt under his fingertips. The boy tossed his head as a litany of gasps and pleas tumbled from his lips, his lithe little body jerking in response to the tickling. Mogami couldn’t get enough of Shigeo’s terror and agony. Shigeo was his tickle victim and only he would decide when this torture would end.
Eventually Mogami and his seemingly infinite hands fully liberated Shigeo of his clothes. He was not allowed any privacy from his tormenter. His tickle monster wanted to see—and touch—everything.
Everything except for Mob’s painful, bobbing hard-on, which he left alone to gleefully mock him for.
“How can this be a torture, Kageyama-kun?” Mogami’s voice rumbled on the edge of Mob’s hysteric laughter and his tears, “You’re clearly getting off on it.”
Mob tried to say something and shrieked with laughter instead upon suffering another round of skittering fingertips up his sides. His eyes were wild, his chest heaving. Sweat had drenched his pale body. His expression looked crazed and copious amounts of drool ran from his blubbering mouth.
His underarms, thighs, and stomach were burning with the after effect of the muscular contractions. The tickling itself felt unbearable, but when coupled with the fact that Mogami only gave Mob a recovery period when he liked, Mob’s body was undergoing higher stress than if he’d been running in the school race. Mob couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but after a point in time, Mob couldn’t breathe, and surely would have fainted if Mogami had not been listening and watching so closely. He would not go easy on the boy, but his goal wasn’t to kill him. He would continue to use this torture until he broke Shigeo’s mind.
“How does it feel? Intolerable? Are you going to snap?” said Mogami, breathing a bit faster himself from how exciting this was. He wondered if he could awaken Kageyama-kun’s core power like this. Put him through such mind numbing torment that his personality would slip and give in to the powers living within him. Such a force would eliminate him no matter how much grudge he’d built up. The very thought of Shigeo’s power putting Mogami out of his misery made him eager to push Shigeo even further towards the edge of his sanity.
He had Mob naked and right where he wanted him, so a little more teasing was in order. The evil spirit began to sedulously toy with Mob’s nipples, squeezing the sweet little buds so that they went all rosy and pebbled under his touch.
“Aah!” Shigeo moaned, horrified by Mogami Keiji’s act of lechery.
Mogami rubbed Mob’s fattened nipples with his fingers, and caressed the soft area around them. Mob panted and whined at the attention.
“Oooh… You d-dirty old man!” he managed to get out breathlessly.
Mogami flicked Mob’s nipples and got him to yelp in alarm. Shigeo looked quite erotic, his big, innocent eyes widening in terror. The uninhibited gaze made Mogami feel drunk on power.
“H-Haaah…! Aha! Ooh! Mogami-san!” Shigeo cried as he felt Mogami run a series of diaphanous zigzags into his round hips, a touch so ticklish it burned him. “Oh! Stop!”
Shigeo’s body and his sensations were completely under Mogami’s control. But still, he hadn’t been broken yet, so Keiji’s work was far from done.
“A-a-ah! S-St-o-o-o-p! Oh, Mogami-san! Please-!”
Mob couldn’t keep track of the time. Being tickled by the grown up who abused him once was so uncomfortable that every second felt like a full minute of torture. This felt like Mogami’s parallel world, a prison where time was slowed down for just the two of them.
“How’s that?” Mogami derided him, flipping Mob on his stomach again so that he could force his legs apart and lavish his buttocks and thighs with merciless tickling while everywhere else those powers of Mogami’s searched for more of Mob’s weak points. “Your power isn’t coming to help you... Is it because you enjoy this?”
Mob sobbed, clearly pained. What had been laughter was turning into sobbing, his victim in pure agony.
Mogami talked, one hand pressing the middle of Shigeo’s back down to the floor while the other wasted no time exploring which places on Mob’s buttocks made him jerk away in response and what patterns of strokes made him scream the loudest. “Do you enjoy an old man like me stripping you utterly naked, and making you scream like a little girl?”
“N-No!” Shigeo sputtered, voice raw in between whimpers and cries.
“What is it, then...?” Mogami appraised his tickle victim, whipping around Mob to stare down at him.
Shigeo looked so scared, and unfocused too. Mogami knew he had reason to be. He let his finger run up and down Mob’s spine to get him arching into the sky. Mob’s body was pulsating in time with his heartbeat. His thoughts faded and all he could perceive were sensations.
“Ooh...!” Mob’s eyes fluttered shut, his body twitching in response to Mogami’s invisible hands stroking his ticklish zones in the most maddening way.
Mogami noticed the syrupy flow of precum leaving Shigeo’s cock.
“You are getting off to it.” he said as if claiming a victory over Mob.
“No! I... Ooh!” Mob moaned and, to the spirit’s surprise, clutched at the worn lapel of Mogami’s jacket. “Oh... Oooohhh...”
“That’s it…” Mogami whispered, voice rough from arousal.
“Ohhh... I...! A-hh...h…!”
Mogami kept going, tickling Mob’s underarms and his soft belly. Mob jolted against him and let out another deep, throaty moan.
Mogami stared at the sight of Mob’s mind breaking, drinking in every delicious moment of it. He hadn’t stopped tickling Mob once, but now, something about Shigeo seemed different.
Tears were flowing freely from Shigeo’s face but his labored breathing had changed.
Mogami didn’t know how to describe it.
Something in Shigeo HAD snapped. His mind was gone—now his body was submitting to the confusing sensations, letting the pain of Mogami’s torture drag him below a darkened tide, into a sea of contradictions.
“Can you even talk anymore?” Mogami chuckled.
Mob couldn’t move anymore even if he had not blacked out under the stress of the tickle torture. His limbs were too heavy. His whole body hurt.
Mogami raised an eyebrow.
“That was entirely too quick, Kageyama-kun...” said Mogami dubiously.
He kept tickling Mob to watch how he reacted. For all that Shigeo screamed, Keiji thought that the boy would’ve lasted longer before blacking out. He had planned to overstimulate Shigeo for an entire hour, but if he achieved his goal, then he supposed that was satisfying enough for him. The best part was that Shigeo was still relentlessly hard despite being broken.
He decided to stop the tickle torture, sitting back to admire his handiwork. The boy looked completely wrecked. His face was cherry red and runny with tears, snot and slobber, and he seemed unable to stop twitching in response to tickle monster hands that weren’t there anymore. Mogami raised Mob’s calf and kissed the outside of his thigh to watch Mob whine loudly and raggedly into the sky.
“Does every physical touch feel like tickle torture to you now?” Keiji mused as he let Mob rest and stood.
Mob, unable to look at him, nodded his head jerkily to confirm.
Mogami crouched by Mob’s head, his eyes wide, dead, staring. He touched a finger to Mob’s forehead and enjoyed another weak whimper leaving his victim.
“Good, Kageyama-kun. That means you’re going to be mine, forever.”
With that Mogami stepped out of the room and opened the door Mob had been unable to move. To be honest, he had considered fucking the boy after tickling him to death, but he gained quite a lot of sadistic joy from the thought of Shigeo struggling with an impossibly heavy hard-on he had no power to relieve. He’d lay there, paralyzed from overstimulation, tortured by his memories of this violation. Keiji grinned malevolently.
Mob shook with tear stained cheeks and cold drool hanging from his chin. In his delirium Mob believed he heard the door shut after Mogami left, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew he was in his kitchen, sprawled naked on the floor, chest heaving and stinking of sweat. He knew that his penis was so hard it was ready to burst and he needed to release it or else he would suffer.
To Mob’s dismay, every single time he touched his own skin, a sudden wave of phantom tickling sensations overwhelmed him. He couldn’t bear it. He tried, tearfully, to touch his shaft, but the sudden contact triggered the feeling of Mogami’s fingers spidering all around his cock and over his body maddeningly. Mob let out a ragged sob. He hated it. His whole body thumped and thumped with need and nothing was going to help him.
With this knowledge, Mob was grateful Mogami had left, but he knew Mogami would never be completely gone. Mob didn’t know how long this would last, barely conscious enough to think about how embarrassing it would be if his parents or Ritsu walked in to see him like this. He couldn’t stop twitching and crying on the floor, Mogami’s absence making him realize he might never be able to touch himself again without feeling the man’s evil fingers. Mob ached and sobbed as he remembered how those awful hands felt when they touched him.
Below the waist, Mob’s dick twitched at the memory. He sobbed as he realized it excited him. Mogami had caused his raging erection, and only Mogami could finish it.
Mob blearily started remembering all the tickling methods Mogami used to make him scream. He’d stripped Mob completely naked and violated him. His most sensitive areas had been discovered, and Mogami had shown exactly zero mercy. How could one dead man understand where to touch him to overwhelm him?
Shigeo started bucking his hips into the air. He panted, aroused. It was the only thing he knew how to do right now, and even though he knew he looked stupid, he could do nothing else. Ritsu could walk in, he didn’t care. He imagined how Mogami had focused on him, engaged solely with his body and his reactions. And he said this was entirely for the sake of dominating him...
Mogami Keiji, a sixty year old adult man, was deeply interested in him.
Just the thought of that alone caused Mob to feel close to the brink. He was so close it physically hurt. Just another mental image of Mogami’s spidering hands tickling his prone, naked body could do it. Mob was a slave to those memories despite how much he hated them.
His cock pulsed rhythmically. Mogami Keiji really did own him...
With a sharp gasp, Mob felt the most forceful orgasm he’d ever had descend upon him; a dancing ring of sensations burgeoning out of his body similar to the sensation of Mogami’s fingers tickling him. He jerked and cried out. “Aaah!”
Feeling his very soul rise up out of his cock, he ejaculated high ribbons of cum and it splattered onto his skin and the rug beneath him. A heavy shudder left Mob and his hips bucked helplessly into the air while the rest of him remained slackened, useless.
“Aaah!” he moaned as he rode this earth-shattering climax, tossing his head this way and that on the rug with his eyes clenched shut. The climax felt layered, waves of unbearable pleasure crashing and throwing him through space.
He panted on the floor, spent and listless. That had been his first touchless orgasm. Mogami had done that to him. He groaned, as he watched his cock sag against his leg.
Mob was naive and thought this was the end of his torment. He tried to wipe sweat from his own face, but the horrible tickling sensation returned, sweeping throughout his body. He shuddered and cried out in despair.
After a moment of recommenced sobbing, Mob gazed in horror as his cock, which had ejaculated just moments ago, twitched and began to firm up again. It stood proud and vertical, mocking it’s owner. Pathetic.
Shigeo whimpered and felt reality grow alien to him, similarly to when he’d been trapped in Mogami’s world.
Mogami Keiji may not have tortured him for a full hour, but this problem could take the rest of Mob’s life to fix. He still had his life, at least. Even if it now belonged to an evil spirit.