Patreon Exclusive: May 2025 II

Welcome to the Tickle Ranch

By KinkSaber

When he agreed to it, this was not something he could ever have imagined to happen.

He had a job. No. He had a whole ass career. He was a top level partner at a prestigious law firm. He had fought for years for the position. All of that, just like everything else that he was, was stripped from him in an instance.

It began only several weeks ago, when he met his master at the bar. Back then, his master wasn’t his master yet – but soon he would fall for the rodent all the same. What followed was something that he never even thought was possible – he fell deeply infatuated with the four-foot tall, soft spoken, but incredibly authoritative rat that would both break him and show him what paradise truly was.

The white rat had a name, but he never used it once after he learned of it. Master. That was what he called the rat. Master or Sir, and nothing else.

He, too, had a name; but that name was soon discarded. When he was around Master, he didn’t need a name. He didn’t need to be anything but Master’s toy, and he liked it that way. He was just ‘he’. When Master called, he came.

He was happy with the arrangement. He thought himself a stoic, unyielding, unbendable tiger – but all that facade was shattered the moment he heard the rat make his demands. He wanted it. He craved it. He wanted to serve Master in whatever way possible. Master’s happiness and contentment was his own. Twisted as Wonderland, the relationship was – but he yearned deeply to see Master weekend after weekend. It only took two sessions of bondage for him to be addicted, and hopelessly addicted he was.

It was so insidious. The rat was well dressed, as was he. They sat with two seats between them, and as they sipped their respective drinks – the tiger and his whiskey on the rocks, and the rat with a gin and tonic – they began to converse. The rat, as he learned, was a shrewd businessman with a silver tongue. The tiger was instantly entranced by the way the rat spoke. Softly, but commanded so much power behind that calm, confident voice. The rat did not need to demand, but merely said the words and whatever he wished for was acquiesced to. He was invited for another drink, and he accepted it before he knew what happened. The rat asked whether the tiger will be there again the next week, and he said yes – without thinking. The same thing happened in seven days. The rat spoke, and the tiger listened and answered truthfully. It made him feel good to make such a connection.

He returned again on the third week, and this time the rat introduced himself properly, and then invited the tiger out for another kind of fun.

“Something more fun than overpriced alcohol at the hotel lounge.” The rat said. “I guarantee you’ll like it better.”

That was how the tiger ended up naked on a king sized bed in the suite of a five star hotel, with the rat’s fist closed around the base of his tail, and the rat’s cock deep in his ass.

The week after, they met again – this time, directly in the suite, rather than the bar. He drove himself there and knocked on the door, at the precise time that they had earlier agreed upon. Agreed upon? No. The rat merely stated the time for the tiger to arrive, and the tiger followed cue.

The same suite, the same bed. The rat bought handcuffs this time, and the tiger was only too eager to try it on for looks. His arms stretched above his head and his legs spread apart. His face planted in the pillows as the rat thrusted into his rear. Helpless, but it thrilled him. The excitement made him more aroused than ever – more erect than ever. When the rat finished, he sent the tiger away without giving the tiger the pleasure that would satiate him. 

“And you’re not going to touch yourself.” The rat chuckled. “Come back next week and we’ll see if you deserve it.”

So he did, like the good kitty that he was. No text messages. No notes. Not a single word from the rat for the week, and the tiger showed up at the same time, same place. He didn’t even have to knock. The door was left unlocked for him, and he let himself in. No need to trouble the rat for something like that – let himself in, and locked the door behind him.

He should have known that there was something about the rat’s voice that drained his willpower, drained his mind. It made him susceptible to the rat’s suggestions; opened his eyes to a new world of submission. He should have understood that the sudden changes in his personality wasn’t natural – but he didn’t care. The tiger felt the buzz of a high, as if a pleasant dream had taken place. He acted as if it was something as simple as treading deeper towards the shallow end of the pool, both curious and excited for what may come; but did not realize that it was the ocean he walked towards. The unbound, unfathomable depths of the sea was what awaited him.

Still, he took another step towards the menacing rat that waited for him quietly and patiently in the same bedroom, who sat on the same chair across from the bed. The curtains were open and the tiger saw the nightlife of the city below. The lights that flickered and the sound of car horns that littered the road. The rat’s eyes darted toward the bed, and the tiger obediently stripped down and laid upon it without so much as a question or a word.

And so, the third week passed with not just cuffs, but leather harness, a riding crop, blindfolds, a red ball gag, and a cage over the tiger’s shaft that was not removed by the end of the session.

“Maybe next week, then.” The rat said as he closed the door. With only a crack left, the tiger saw the rat’s smirk. “Maybe if you behave.”

It had been two weeks since he last felt the rush of orgasm. The tiger became irritable. Just enough for everyone to notice the sudden change in demeanor, but not so much that he got in trouble for it. He wanted it, but he also wanted to obey his master, the rat. The cage was a silly thing. He could easily snap the cheap plastic in half with just a tug – and without harming himself, even. He refused, though. It wasn’t even as if it was locked. No. It was a cheap cage that opened with a little flicker. He had, in fact, removed it when he bathed himself – but as soon as the cage and his shaft was clean, he placed it on once again. 

The rat, of course, had no real concerns. He knew that the tiger would stay obedient, even without being constantly monitored. Such was the power of his calm voice.

Besides which, he secretly hoped that the tiger would defy him. It would make for such a fun time if he had a valid reason to punish his new pet.

The week went by as rapidly as the others. The only real difference was how much the tiger looked forward to the weekend where he would meet with the rat once again. Like the two weeks before, though, the rat did not give him the satisfaction that he craved; and like the two weeks before he was adamantly obedient to all of the rat’s whims. Not just a leather harness, but a full body latex suit that hid his fur and his face. He was bound in it for three hours and starved of attention while the rat entertained himself. When he felt the warmth of the rat once again, the tiger’s ass was used so liberally that he felt numbness between his ass cheeks. He groaned when he realized once again that the rat was finished and would no longer play with his body. The scowl on his face delighted the sadistic rat.

“Next week.” The rat said with pleasure and power coursing through his veins. He cupped the tiger’s balls in his palm and toyed with the sensitive organ. “Next week, you’ll have earned an orgasm – but only if you stay good for the whole week. I guarantee that you’ll have your mind blown.”

The tiger clenched his fists and left blue balled once again. 

It was Friday afternoon when he received a text message from the rat. It was out of the ordinary. The rat had his number, but never contacted him before. The tiger thought it was a scam, until he saw that message ended with a demand for him to be a good boy. He rolled his eyes, then wondered why he even entertained the idea. He would, of course, not know that the rat held no power over him unless it was spoken. He could have just as easily discarded and ignored the text message, but something in the back of the tiger’s mind had already taken root.

It was the seed of obedience that the rat had planted. So rooted was the idea that the tiger didn’t outright dismiss the text message. In fact, he read it three times over, and memorized the address that he was told to arrive at. For the first time since he met the rat, something told him this was a bad idea. He should retreat; cut his losses and never see the rat again – but his heart pounded in his chest, and the lust and arousal in his groin would not allow him to simply deny himself of the promised reward.

The tiger already made a decision to attend. His consciousness just didn’t know it yet.

—

There was something very odd with the place that the rat had chosen. When the tiger arrived, he found himself at a ranch. A proper ranch, surrounded by wheat fields. The tiger had once in his youth spent a summer at some wealthy circle’s lake camp close to a farm, and he recalled the smell. Oh, gods, the smell was horrid. He smelled nothing of the sort when he arrived. He should have smelled it from miles away. All that he caught in the air was the fragrance of wheat and chaff. It was also quiet for what it was. When he saw the rat at the front of what he assumed to be the visitor’s center, he quietly approached. The rat was, as he always did, in a fitted business suit.

He did not need to be told to follow the rat inside, nor did he need to be told to remain quiet in the rustic hallway. He followed the rat until they reached stairs that led downward, and they stepped into the basement together. The interior decoration reminded him of a cabin his family had owned. Somewhere by a lake in a vacation town. He didn’t like going there then, and he found even less enjoyment of the rustic theme now. The rat stopped by a door, turned the handle, and invited himself inside. The tiger followed.

“Aren’t you curious? You’ve been awfully quiet.” The rat said with a smile on his face.

The tiger didn’t answer. For reasons unknown to him, he found the idea of it appalling. He was fine with his silence, and the rat obliged. The door was closed and locked behind him, and the tiger, as if on cue, began to strip. He folded his clothes neatly and placed them on the table, and stood on the wooden floor completely naked. It was only then that he took a look around – and found that the room was made to the very likeness of the cabin that reminded of his family vacations; except through the windows came an artificial landscape and light. They were, after all, several stories underground.

“Eager to start, huh – it must be unbearable for you.” The rat chuckled to himself. “Either way, as promised, you’ll be rewarded for your good behavior today. Now, be a good boy for me and put on the latex suit.”

The rat pointed to a drawer against the wall. The tiger opened it and found the same suit that he had worn the week prior. He donned it, as instructed, and then waited quietly for the next set of instructions to follow. To comply. It only made him feel more aroused by the second – to be ordered around by the rat that was less than half his height and a quarter his size.

“Table.” The rat said and pointed.

The tiger felt the wooden floor under his soles with each step towards the table, where the rat sat. The latex suit only went down to his ankles and up to his neck, where a zipper closed over his caged cock. He sat on the side of the table, and the rat sighed.

“C’mon. What am I? A doctor? Get on the table.” The rat scoffed. 

The tiger lowered himself on it, his back cold against the tabletop; his arms at his side. It felt odd to be there like that. He’s never used a table as a bed before – but it was the rat’s demand, and so he did it.

That was when the rat flipped something at the foot of the table. Both ends, actually, and then locked it with a metallic click. The tiger looked down at his feet, where the rat now lifted both of those legs and slotted his ankles into a hole before snapping another piece of it shut to lock him in. He lifted his arms above his head when the rat made his way around, and likewise they too were locked into the stocks. The next item was a blindfold, then a gag in his maw. The tiger opened his mouth as wide as he could to accommodate the rat  like the good boy that he was. Then, a collar around his neck. Something through the ring, and the tiger felt a tug as the chain was wrapped under the table and locked together. He couldn’t lift his head anymore.

Then, he felt what he had been waiting for. The rat unzipped the opening at the tiger’s groin and handled that cock. Click, click, slip. The cage was removed; but in its place was something else. The tiger’s erect cock was inserted into something cold, soft, and felt like a tube. He would gasp, but the ball gag in his mouth was so far that it pressed on his tongue. He couldn’t even breathe through his mouth – and the rat liked it like that.

“Locked in, all snug, and nowhere to go.” The rat whispered next to the tiger’s ear. “Look at you. So gullible. So easy to steal away. It always makes me laugh when they come so willingly – to their doom.”

The tiger’s heart skipped a beat. 

“But you can’t help it? Can you?” The rat said. The same warm breath blew past the tiger’s ear. “Can’t help but listen and obey. Can’t help but fall victim to my hypnotic voice. Don’t worry your pretty head about any of this, kitty – whatever comes next, you’re going to learn to love. That’s all you need to do.”

The base of the tube tightened over the base of his cock. He was locked in. The tiger whimpered, but also couldn’t help but be excited when the tube whirled to life. His cock was stroked. Mechanically, but with how long he had been denied even the slightest pleasure, he had nothing to complain about. Not even the ominous words that the rat had just said to him.

He focused on the pleasure. The way his cock was teased and pumped; the ring of tightness that was like a kiss along his shaft. The gooey, silicone fleshlight that devoured his cock like a hungry slime. He felt shivers on his lower back, and he shuddered – then it was gone. Gone, just as quickly as it began. The tiger groaned with frustration.

“Easy, my pet.” The rat said. “It’s just a little test to make sure it works. I think you’ll enjoy this next part much more.”

The tiger’s mind absorbed the idea, like water to soil. The promise of pleasure took over any rationale the tiger had left, and he relaxed his body, until he felt the rat’s hand on his toes.

The rat had never played with his feet before, and yet for the last three weeks, he’d lotion them every single note before bed. Did the rat tell him to do it? He couldn’t remember. It was not part of his pre-bed ritual prior to meeting the rat; and yet the tiger felt compelled to do it, and so he did. It made more sense now if the rat had planted the suggestion directly into his brain. When did it happen? When?

“Yes..!” The rat gasped with delight. “They’ll do quite nicely. You’re such a good boy Such an obedient pet.”

The tiger was confused, but he soon brushed it out of his mind when he felt the rat’s hands squeeze and rub against his soles. Master’s hand felt amazing on them. The tiger purred into his gag. There was something that was incredibly pleasant with the rat’s hand toying with his feet. They were sensitive, and the lightest touch made him reflexively jerk his foot back. He couldn’t help it.

That only made the rat’s grin wider. The rat loved a good ticklish pet. The more sensitive they were, the better it is for the rat; and the tiger was very sensitive. The rat sat his rump down on the chair in front of the tiger’s soles, and nuzzled his face into the arches; his nose fit snugly between the tiger’s insteps. He sighed with content and used his fingers to lightly trace the top of the tiger’s feet. It tickled the tiger just enough for him to push those soles into the rat’s face. The pressure the tiger exerted was heavenly to the rat; like a toy that performed just as it was expected to.

Then there were the tiger’s toes that wiggled and clenched against the rat’s forehead. The way they struggled as the tops of both feet were relentlessly teased. The way the tiger flexed and arched his foot, but his toes still pushed against the rat’s face. It pleased the rat greatly.

So much so that the rat let his tongue out from between his mouth to give the tiger’s soft soles a lick, then the little laps evolved to nibbles on the tiger’s insteps. The tender meat tasted perfect in the rat’s mouth. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for another job well done.

And the rat continued to lick his new pet’s soles. From the heels up to the toes, and suckled on the tiger’s toes while he scratched the arches, all just to make those kitty digits dance in his mouth, against his tongue, in a desperate struggle to escape. The tiger, of course, failed. Miserably, to add. There was no chance of escape now that he had been caught in the rat’s trap.

All of that was just an appetizer for what the rat had planned.

The rat retrieved steel cables, to which he looped around each of the tiger’s toes and pulled them back until they were all immobile and forced to spread far apart for his viewing and toying pleasure. The other end was attached to hooks on the stockade, reinforced by a steel plate against the wooden texture.

“Such a shame about your pretty toes, hmm?” The rat muttered. “They looked so cute when they were still free, but you’ll never wiggle them again – even if you crave for it.”

If the rat enjoyed watching them wiggle so much, then why did he tie them off, the tiger wondered – and again, the thought exited his head as soon as it entered when he felt the next sensation.

A hair brush.

Not a cheap one, he can tell. There was a certain sturdiness and hardiness to it. Even if it was just the bristles that glided up and down his soles, the tiger knew it was not a trinket that would so easily break – especially when the rat revved it to turbo within seconds.

The tiger screamed into his gag. Screamed laughter that he could not control in the slightest.

The bristles raked up and down those big, taut, defenselessly trapped feet. The rat laughed giddily as the tiger screamed, and he showed no signs of slowing down at all. The rat relished in the tiger’s madness, and the more demented the tiger’s muffled cries, the more delighted the rat felt.

Ah, yes. Nothing quite like breaking down a big, bad predator with just a silly old hair brush against their vulnerable soles.

“Hee hee hee! This is my favorite part!” The rat said gleefully. “This is where you lose your goddamn mind!”

The tiger heard the words, but didn’t have enough brain power to process it in his head. He was occupied by the constant and merciless assaults of the nervous responses that flooded his brain. Under the blindfold, the tiger’s eyes were wet with years, and through the gag his mouth was messy with drool. His feet were so sensitive, and yet the rat couldn’t give half an ass about his well being. The rat didn’t care. All the rat wanted was for him to be tickled.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re never leaving, my pet!” The rat said as his hands moved faster, pressed the brushes harder against the tiger’s arches. “You’re going to love being tickled. Love! You’re such a pretty tickle toy. Hah! I’m so lucky to have found you!”

It felt as though there was a half second when his soles were left alone, but then the tube at his cock came back to life. As his soles turned a deeper shade of tickled pink, the machine began to whirl and stroke his cock once more.

“Ooh yes! Here comes the reward, my pet!” The rat practically cackled with wickedness in his voice. He didn’t let up for a single second. The brushes continued to violate every last inch of the tiger’s poor helpless soles, and the tube stimulated the absolute pinnacle of the tiger’s pleasure center as those soles were cruelly destroyed.

The tiger screamed, with ticklish abandon and with the waves of intense pleasure that he could not stop.

For someone with more endurance, they could perhaps last several minutes longer – but not for the weak willed, weak minded tiger. Not anymore. As soon as the machine came to life, so did his cock, and with only several strokes of his shaft and a mild vibration against his cock head,the tiger spilled all of his seeds. All the pent up frustration that was stored in his groin for weeks was coaxed out of his slit, and the tiger moaned and cried into the gag as his milk was taken – and collected in a container that he would not see. A bottle in the shape of a large milk jar.

The rat smiled when he saw how much there was.

But that wasn’t enough to satisfy his greed. That would be too easy.

The rat began to suck on the tiger’s big toe as a reward for himself – for the work he put into tickling the tiger. He dropped the brushes from his hands, for his arms deserved a break, too. He suckled each of the tiger’s toes in turn and tasted them for all that they had to offer, and when he was done he licked his lips.

The tiger took in breath after breath of cool air. He would gasp for it, but the gag prevented that. His chest raised and fell as the feline recovered, but then he realized something.

The pump on his cock didn’t stop.

The tiger whimpered with discomfort, and the rat took notice.

“You didn’t think that was the end, did you?” He said, as he pressed a button on the remote he had in hand. The pump on the tiger’s cock worked faster, the vibrations against his cock head intensified, and the strokes against his shaft had wild variations so that he could not guess which spot would be stimulated next. The tiger cried into his gag and tried to shake his head from side to side. He was helpless, and he was the rat’s toy. The rat’s pet. Maybe even less. Even lower on the totem pole. He was the rat’s thing.

From the second drawer, the rat retrieved something else – a buttplug of his own design. With it in hand, the rat pulled the zipper lower on the tiger’s crotch to review the plump, juicy ass that he would miss for the pleasure that it bought him – but he also couldn’t wait to send the tiger straight to tickle hell with the device in his hand. He retrieved a bottle of lube, and as he oiled up the vibrator, he nudged the tip of it against the tiger’s pink, sensitive hole. The tiger tightened it, and clenched his buttcheeks closed.

“Come now, pet. You know you want this.” The rat cooed. “We both know you want to resign yourself to be my tickle toy. We both know very well that you crave your ass to be used. You crave to be owned. You can’t help it. Let yourself go. Surrender your body to me. Surrender your mind.”

The tiger whimpered. All he could do is obey. He relaxed the muscles in his legs and consented to his own ticklish doom.

The device entered slowly, but every second was bliss. At its depths, the tip of the device found the tiger’s prostate, and it pressed snugly against the sensitive organ. The rat nodded, zipped the latex suit up, and pressed another button on his remote to activate the dildo. The buzz instantly made the tiger hard as a rock. Then, something else happened inside him.

Something like tiny prickles all against the fleshy walls of his asshole. 

Something that spin, and vibrated, and buzzed from deep inside him.

The tiger trembled, his body shook. It itched so badly. He began to laugh into the gag again when the device finished calibrating, and ran its programmed routine. Torque rings that were hidden in the device’s design began to turn and twist inside the tiger, and the tiny silicone spikes dragged against the tiger’s flesh. The tickling was so deep inside him that the tiger couldn’t help but burst out into fits of moaning laughter. He was aroused, kept erect, and he was tickled as deeply as his soul – and the infernal buzzing that teased his prostate forced his prick to stay stiff for the pump to work its magic.

He knew he was fucked, figuratively and literally. But he didn’t know how much until he felt the rat do something at the stocks by his feet.

Something heavy was attached to the wooden stocks. Something large. So large that the entire table moved slightly. He heard something snap into place, click into place, and then bolted shut.

Then, he felt something touch the soles of his feet. Something prickly against his heels, his arches, his insteps, the balls of his feet, and against each and every single one of his toes. The tiger whimpered. The laughter continued. The moaning continued. He let out another shot of cum, and the machine sucked it all up, collected and deposited it in the very same milk-jar.

“Before I completely destroy your mind, my pet, I’m going to tell you exactly what’s about to happen.” The rat whispered into the tiger’s ear. One of his hands was on his own cock, and the other stroked the tiger’s head as he spelled out the tiger’s fate for his new victim. The rat licked his lips, and continued. “I’m going to keep you here forever, and you’re going to cum for me. Again and again and again. You’re going to scream for me. You’re going to cry for me. But most of all, you’re going to laugh for me.”

The tiger didn’t understand. He was already doing all three of those things, all at the same time.

“..And those pretty feet of yours, well, they’re mine now.”

The tiger gasped when he felt the prickly things at his feet come alive. Brushes. Rotating brushes. The cruel rat was going to scrub his soles with a machine designed to drive him insane with tickling. Each of the brushes spin at a different speed, in different patterns. Diabolical. The tiger would never get used to it. He could never acclimate to it.

“And they’re going to suffer, because I want them to suffer. I want you to suffer.” The rat stroked himself, and he kissed the tiger’s cheek. He licked across the tiger’s face and gave him a kiss on those ball-gagged lips. His tongue entered what little space the tiger’s mouth offered and tasted him there. “You’re going to be tickled, and you’re going to cum. Endlessly. That’s your entire life now, starting this very second, my pet. Nothing you ever need to do again but to fill that bottle with your milk and be tickled for my pleasure. Even when I’m not here to watch. You have now idea how much it thrills me to know that those soles are never going to feel another moment of peace ever again!“

The tiger couldn’t help but spill his milk again. Before he knew it, he was hard again. His cock was raring to go as soon as it was emptied. The thoughts in his head left one by one. He couldn’t think anymore. All he could be was lost to the pleasure of his cock milked, and his soles scrubbed.

The rat finished himself off, and as he caught some of his own spunk on his finger, he wiped it just under the tiger’s nose.

“A little souvenir for you. You’ll have plenty of time to get used to my scent. Welcome to the tickle ranch. You’re here forever.”

=The end=