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Focus

"...but of all the element of this spell, the most important one is focus. I cannot stress that enough. Okay, Caroo?"

Sitting back in his armchair, twirling his wand between two fingers as he addressed the apprentice mage, Jeeves frowned. The other kangaroo didn't answer him. Didn't even seem to have registered what he was saying. Instead, Caroo was simply gazing down at the spot where Jeeves' outstretched paws were poking out from beneath the hem of his robes, toes twitching in mild annoyance. A soft sigh escaped the more experienced magic user, and he withdrew his feet from view.

"I said, do you understand everything I've told you, Caroo? Or would you like me to go over it again?"

With the focus of his attention now gone, the apprentice raised his head. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes darted back and forth in the hopes that there would be some prompt to help him answer the question he'd just been posed. When there wasn't, and he looked back to see a disapproving glimmer in Jeeves' eyes, he panicked and shook his head.

"N-no. No, I understand. I can do it."

Reaching into the folds of his own robe, Caroo withdrew his wand. He held it straight up in front of himself, and began to chant under his breath. Purple sparks began to fly from the tip of his wand, dropping to the ground and beginning to spin, encircling the kangaroo in a glowing vortex of magical energy. He smiled through his muttering of the spell; excited and truthfully a little surprised to see the ritual commencing as it was supposed to. Through the haze of magical energy he could see Jeeves smiling too, his instructor looking pleasantly shocked at the swiftness with which Caroo had managed to stabilise the first phase of the teleportation spell.

Closing his eyes, Caroo began to focus on his destination point; a spot on the stone floor of Jeeves' chamber just a few feet away from where he was standing right now. A trip he could make faster just by walking, but one which was the perfect, least dangerous route for a beginner. He pictured the feeling of the stonework beneath his feet. The positioning of the rest of the room around him now, and at his eventual destination. He knew, whether he'd been listening to Jeeves' most recent, final lesson or not, that the more details he had right about his intended arrival point, the closer he was likely to appear to that exact spot. Thinking about a bookshelf in the wrong place could mean he was off by a few inches. Thinking about a wall two or three feet in the wrong direction could lead to a more fatal error; risking materialising within said wall or on its far side, three quarters of the way up the outside of a tower. And losing focus completely... well... no-one knew where that could possibly lead, for no-one who had ever lost focus entirely during a teleportation ritual had ever been found to give an answer.

Sparks began to fly behind the kangaroo's eyes, the hand clutching his wand shaking with the intensity of the magic pouring through it and into him; the living conduit for the spell. He drew a deep, steadying breath, and tried to clarify the image of the room in his mind to an even crisper level of detail. He pictured Jeeves' chair in the centre of the room. The kangaroo within it. The distance from the rear of the chair to the back wall of the chamber, and from the foremost wall to the outstretched toes of the other roo's feet.

His cheeks burned a rosy pink as he once again found his mind drawn to that particular portion of his instructor's body. He wondered, just for a second, whether Jeeves would be quite so firm and sharp tongued with him if his feet were bound in stocks, and Caroo's hands were dragging their fingertips back and forth across his bare, sensitive soles. Caroo smirked, picturing Jeeves flailing and howling with laughter. Picturing himself grinning too, his own toes wiggling in anticipation as though almost certain that when Jeeves finally got free, they were going to be subjected to the same torment in return... or worse.

The apprentice mage's eyes shot wide open, and he stared at Jeeves in horror as a helpless burst of giggles escaped his lips. He wasn't thinking about his spell any more. He wasn't thinking about where he was supposed to be teleporting from or to. Instead, his mind was consumed with the idea of tickling his instructor, and of being tickled in return. Yet still, somehow, the spell was progressing. He could feel it building towards critical power, feel the energy of his magic surging and crackling all around him with ever greater and ever more unpredictable fury.

For just a few seconds, Jeeves and Caroo's eyes locked upon one another. The apprentice's gaze filled with simultaneous fear and mirth, and Jeeves' simply overwhelmed by resignation. The more experienced of the mages raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing it in frustration, and waved a casual gesture of farewell and good luck to his now former apprentice.

A bright flash illuminated the mage's chamber, blinding both him and Caroo. It faded as swiftly as it had blinked into being, and Jeeves was alone.

Caroo had teleported, but not to the spot on the floor he should have. Not into a wall or outside of the mage's tower. Not anywhere that Jeeves could follow. He was lost not simply in space, but in all of reality. Anywhere in any layer of any dimension. Almost certainly dead, and almost certainly never to return.

All that remained, all that was left of the other kangaroo, was a pair of sandals and a pile of robes; upon which was resting the smouldering, crackling remains of Caroo's wand.

***************

A bright flash illuminated the mage's chamber, and suddenly Caroo was falling. Just for a second or two, he found himself suspended in empty air, before landing upon something warm and soft. The kangaroo gasped with relief. He had done it. He had teleported! Sure, he hadn't ended up precisely where he meant to, but at least he had lived through it. All he had to do now was perform the same spell again, and return home.

Glancing around himself, the place in which he had appeared illuminated not by any single light source but by its own strange luminescence, the kangaroo searched for his wand. He must have dropped it, because it wasn't in his hand. Carefully he scuffled and searched the immediate area, his heart rate starting to quicken and a nervous frown crossing his brow as he failed to locate the magical conduit required to perform all but the most basic of his spellcasting abilities. In a moment of desperation, he wondered if perhaps somehow it had ended up in his pocket during the teleportation process, and reached down to check the folds of his robes. Only then did he truly acknowledge his nudity, and let slip a bashful whimper even though there appeared to be no other people in... in wherever this place may have been.

"H-Hello?"

Normally the last thing Caroo would have wanted to do was attract attention when he was without clothes or a single clue as to his location, but he didn't see much in the way of other options. Thus he called out, and waited, breath held in hopeful anticipation, of a friendly and hopefully very understanding response.

No-one, and perhaps luckily no_thing_ answered the 'roo's call. He did however feel the ground beneath him quiver slightly, and when that motion made him whimper nervously once more, it moved again. Responding to his voice, to his presence.

Slowly and carefully, Caroo rose up onto his knees. He used the extra height to get a better look at his surroundings, in the hopes of finding what at least looked like some more secure ground. Instead, he found himself met with a rather concerning, limited stretch of land. The chamber in which he was kneeling was barely any bigger than the length and breadth he had explored while searching for his wand, and it was composed entirely of the same material on which he was sitting in floors, walls and ceiling. Worse still he could see the walls visibly rippling; not reacting to his motion or words any longer, but seeming to move on their own initiative. It didn't take long to notice that they were drawing inward. Contracting, shrinking the already limited space around the kangaroo.

Before Caroo could panic too much, or react in any other way for that matter, he felt the ground beneath him beginning to shift with greater force. It wobbled and jiggled like flesh, and quite abruptly tilted sharply to one side; tossing the kangaroo down upon his rump, and knocking him back against the nearest wall of the chamber.

"Hey!"

Not knowing who he was calling out to, the 'roo exclaimed in frustration. He tried to pull himself back upright, but as his arms pushed against the walls of the chamber, they suddenly seemed to give way around him. To draw his forearms a short way into the purplish pink fabric of this reality. Caroo's eyes bulged, and he cried out in shock as brighter, intensely pink tendrils burst from the walls around him. Encircling his arms and pinning them tightly against the now more urgently, excitedly trembling surfaces.

"C-c'mon... this isn't funny. Jeeves, is this you?"

No response came in the form of words, but more tendrils of quivering pink flesh began to poke their way through the floor beneath Caroo. Grabbing at his legs, his torso, ensnaring him firmly yet still leaving the kangaroo mobility enough to squirm and writhe within their grasp.

"Look, I'm r-really sorry I didn't pay attention to your lesson. If this is you, p-please... I get it now. I'll focus from now on. I won't let my t-thoughts wander to... to anything other than my work."

The 'roo shuddered as one of the tendrils drifted across the sole of his left foot. It froze, pausing as it felt him respond and react to its touch. For a moment it lingered there, perfectly still, before sweeping back the way it had come and caressing Caroo's paw yet again. The male's eyes bulged in their sockets, and he let slip a desperate whimper.

"Not there! A-ahh... please, n-not my feet. I swear I won't look at your paws ever again. I w-won't even think about them. Just please, don't touch me there. Don't... d-don't tickle me."

Caroo should have known better. It was an unwritten rule, an implicit law not just in the world he knew, but in all worlds... all realities and dimensions. You did not tell someone not to tickle you. You did not admit that you were ticklish. Not unless you fully intended and expected to have that vulnerability exploited and used against you to its full potential. Even here, wherever and whatever this place was, that law seemed to hold strong. For no sooner had Caroo uttered those pleading words, a fresh host of tentacles burst up from the chamber around him and set about his feet in a frenzy of tiny, delicately precise strokes and prods.

He tried, tried so very hard to resist what was happening to him. To not react vocally or in any physical capacity. The last thing Caroo wanted to do was give these mysterious tendrils a weakness to exploit, so he simply couldn't let them know just how effective a strategy they had discovered for breaking him. With every ounce of willpower at his disposal the kangaroo fought to maintain a straight face, to keep his breathing steady and his eyes fixed ahead of him, not glancing down at his trembling feet for even a millisecond. He willed the tentacles to stop. Those myriad, sub-divided tendrils wiggling and squirming against the arches of his feet, crawling and tickling their way ever closer to the twitching surface of his toes.

In the end, he lasted a record length of time.

Around eleven agonisingly long seconds.

A squeak of helpless anguish escaped Caroo's lips as the first of the tendrils curled its way between his big and second toes on one footpaw. Wriggling against the oh so soft, sensitive flesh between the two digits and sending the kangaroo's entire body into spasms of ticklish laughter. That first assault was all it took to break open the flood gates, and before long the male was thrashing and shrieking with mirth. Tears rolled thick and fast down Caroo's cheeks as he giggled and wailed uncontrollably, the simultaneously unbearable and joyously fun sensations tearing through him from all sides as not only his feet came under attack, but the palms of his hands, the soft flesh of his thighs and even the exposed skin of his underarms.

"N-nooo!"

Howling gleefully, Caroo shook his head from side to side in horror as he saw yet more tendrils rearing up around him. Adding to the torture, intensifying it. It was almost as if these tentacles knew what they were doing, acting not out of some sort of instinct, but with a singular intelligence and purpose. A hive minded consciousness, able to reason to such a degree that it was capable of noting the most sensitive spots on his body and focusing in upon them. The more delicate the region, the finer and more perfectly geared for ticklish torment the tendrils became. Sub-dividing over and over again until they were as fine and soft as feathers.

"Please, please s-stop! Ah-haahahaha... n-no. No m-more!"

The louder Caroo begged, the harder he fought and thrashed in ticklish madness, the more intensely he came under attack. The more of his body was ensnared and teased by the wriggling, twitching tendrils. And in turn, the more of him that was assaulted, the more urgently and feverishly he struggled. It was a cycle perfect for driving Caroo insane with laughter, and soon found the kangaroo being drawn towards that very particular, special level of mirth and ticklish delight rooted deep in the most intensely kinky depths of the male's psyche.

"O-oh.. oh god... g-god..."

Whimpering and shivering in desperate excitement, his maw hanging wide open in a constant stream of snorting, wailing and gleeful laughter, Caroo felt his libido beginning to respond to the overwhelmingly intense tickling. He felt his racing heart beginning to flood his system with hormones, and between his legs saw his exposed member begin to quiver, to strain and stiffen with arousal.

"Ah... ahhhhh, y-yes..."

Almost as soon as his shaft began to swell, Caroo felt a fresh ripple of motion directly beneath his crotch. The living surface of the chamber in which he was bound opened up once more, and from within emerged new tendrils. These tentacles already had miniature offshoots present along their length, like the feet of an octopus without the suction cups. They encircled his quivering buttocks and stiffening, increasingly aroused crotch, and began not quite to tickle... but rather, to stroke and tease his more intimate regions.

The male's cheeks were already flushed, his chest already heaving with exertion and his nipples already painfully hard due to the over-abundance of sensation coursing through him. As he felt those latest tentacles ensnare his crotch though, a fresh cry of excitement escaped him and a brighter, more vibrant shade of red rushed across his face.

All the while, the room around Caroo was growing smaller. The walls of the living hive closing in around him, already more than three quarters of the way up the length of his tail and only slightly bigger than the dimensions of the kangaroo's sprawled, writhing body as a whole. Tentacles assailed him from all sides, making him giggle and squeal and now moan with pleasure alongside his mirth. He wasn't struggling any longer. Wasn't fighting for freedom or respite. He was thrashing simply because he couldn't stop. Bucking and kicking and howling not because he was too overwhelmed to bear it any longer; though he was, but rather because it felt so incredibly, impossibly overwhelming that he couldn't help but want to bear it. He wanted to be able to stand the ticklish torment. Wanted to not want it to end, so that he might be allowed to handle more. And more. And more.

The kangaroo's forearms were soon lost within the walls of the chamber around him. Every inch of his hands, his fingers, right up to above his elbows, being touched and squeezed and tickled by what felt like a billion microscopic, cell sized tendrils. His legs began to sink into the ground beneath him at the knee, lifting up his exposed footpaws, bound by the ankle to restrict their movement and permit even more intense, focused stimulation. Before Caroo knew it, he could feel the living flesh of the hive encircling each individual toe just as it had his fingers. Sharp, almost painfully pointed and elongated tendrils dragging themselves over his soles and arches, making him shriek with unabashed delight while the hive set to work on his next torment. Yet more miniaturised tendrils, not numerous and tiny but shrunken versions of those big, pointed ones causing his feet such gleeful agony. Pressing into the smallest cracks and tiniest ridges of his toes. Seeking out the most sensitive, never before touched flesh for the ultimate, inescapable attack.

Caroo felt his tail twitching and his hips shaking, desperately trying to buck against the tentacles holding him firmly in place. He was so overwhelmed and turned on by what was happening to him, he barely had the strength or conscious control to even laugh any longer. His giggles and wails of mirth came in unrestrained, random bursts, interspersed now with ever more frequent bouts of moaning and desperate, needy gurgles. His tongue lolled out, drooling onto the soft, quivering ground beneath him. His eyes fell half lidded with bliss, still streaming with joyous tears. Everything about his expression screamed pure contentment and ecstasy, and between his legs his now fully engorged, throbbing arousal was all too happy to embrace that feeling.

With a deep, guttural grunt of pleasure, Caroo knew that the sudden warmth and tightness around his erection meant that the hive surrounding him had recognised the importance of his shaft. No longer was it just teasing and tickling at the flesh of his crotch as a whole, but focusing in on his cock and balls in particular. Feverishly bucking his hips as the tentacles converged upon his member, leaving his hips more free to move and thrust than they had been for quite some time, the kangaroo continued to moan and whimper with unceasing and even gluttonous excitement. He felt his toes curling in pleasure as the hive began to touch his cock. To stroke and attempt to tickle it, just as it had the rest of his body, but with very different results.

"Ahhh..."

Saying nothing, nothing coherent at least, Caroo urged the tentacles onward. He began to fight them harder, to strain, to kick and flail so that they applied more force. More pressure. Tickling and stimulating him ever more violently in a wholly successful attempt to disarm and immobilise the kangaroo. He felt more micro-tendrils spawning within the single thick tentacle wrapped around his cock, no longer feeling like it was just milking his shaft but rather stroking it with countless miniature, independent digits. Along the whole length of his member, upon the sensitive, pre-cum drooling tip, even over his swollen and ever productive balls.

Caroo didn't know how long he could last. Didn't know if he wanted to last, or if he wished simply to surrender himself to the truly overwhelming, mind-bendingly intense sensations that promised to make everything he had felt so far a mere peck on the cheek by comparison. The idea was obviously appealing; a release that could actually match up to all the potent stimulation coursing through him. But even in his pleasure-maddened and deliriously laughing state, Caroo couldn't help but worry. What if he gave in... what if he lost himself to the mirth and the pleasure all at once, and succumbed to the powerful orgasm building within him, only for the tentacles to keep going.

What if after all he could give, they still wanted more?

All his laughter, all his pleasure, all just an appetiser in a banquet that for all Caroo knew could go on forever. Endless tickling. Endless laughter. Endless uncontrollable screams of delight and agony as his body was forced to deal with sensations it had never been equipped to process.

In his delirium, Caroo frantically shook his head once again. He began to thrash, to squirm and writhe with renewed ferocity. He couldn't do it. Couldn't risk it! No matter how tempting and exciting, the kangaroo could not let himself succumb to this heavenly hell.

Of course, he soon remembered why he had given up in the first place. Why his mind had simply bent to the will of the sensations crashing through it, rather than shattering trying to fight them. He had given in because he was going to lose. Lose control. Lose his mind. Going to lose the fight between sanity and freedom. Between pleasure and control. Between laughter and clear-minded thought.

The kangaroo wailed joyously as the hive chamber around him grew ever smaller and tighter, more and more tendrils pouring out of every available spot upon the walls to tease and tenderise all the remaining exposed, bare flesh upon his form. He felt tentacles beginning to rub and tickle at the bare skin on the inside of his ears. At the base of his tail. At not only his flanks, but his belly and lower back too. He felt tiny tendrils beginning to work their way into him from behind, peeling open the cheeks of his rear and delving into his back passage where they set about his innermost reaches with touches so light and delicate, it was almost like a new kind of tickling rather than a sexual caress.

There was no one moment which signalled the start of Caroo's descent into the true madness of orgasm. Perhaps that was because he'd been locked into that spiral practically since the tentacles began to first tickle at his toes. Even back then, it now felt as though this had been the inevitable outcome. The only way that Caroo could possibly express the true intensity of how unbearably good it felt to be tickled and touched so hard for so long.

Still, Caroo wasn't entirely prepared as he felt himself losing control of those few shreds of self-restraint and consciousness that still held true. He began to giggle, to squeal and shriek with laughter in such rapturous joy that he could barely breath, causing his heart to pound ever faster and his cock to pulse and throb with urgent desire. He felt his eyes rolling back into his head and his balls beginning to tighten up, preparing for immediate release. Every inch of him was trembling violently, primed and ready like a taut spring. Much like that spring however, Caroo didn't know if his release would catapult him towards the relief and satisfaction he craved, or simply cause him to break under the stress; shattering not his body, but his mind with the sheer overload of sensation.

One by one, twitching tendril by twitching tendril, Caroo felt those final threads of his sanity being plucked and teased apart.

He snorted. Whimpered. Giggled and grunted.

He felt his body tremble once more. Stiffen, straining violently with every muscle it possessed, and suddenly fall limp and relaxed in the tentacles' grasp.

For a single perfect moment, Caroo was at peace. He couldn't feel the tickling, the pleasurable caresses against his shaft and balls. He couldn't feel anything. It was like he was floating, suspended within the hive in a state of perfect, satisfied restfulness.

"O-oh..."

He didn't scream as the euphoria of his climax slammed into him like a brick wall. Didn't thrash or flail to the point where he tore free of his restraints. Nothing like that.

From the outside, Caroo's orgasm may have looked pretty normal. Maybe even a little sub-par. He twitched, shivered, and whimpered as he felt himself beginning to let loose into the suckling, teasing embrace of the tentacle wrapped tight around his cock. His toes curled a little, and his eyelids fluttered gently. His mouth hung open, and his tongue rested loosely within it, droplets of saliva rolling off the tip and out onto the hive's living flesh.

It was only within the kangaroo's bound and captive body, locked away deep in the recesses of his mind, that the true fury of his orgasm boiled over. So intense, so destructive in its ecstasy that Caroo felt his mind short circuit, for lack of a better term. Bypassing all the necessary physical responses that came with such pleasure. Removing any need for him to kick and wail and squeal with further peals of helpless laughter.

All he could do, all the marsupial male was capable of doing, was feeling. Feeling himself cum. Feeling himself be tickled, and stroked, and squeezed, and pleasured beyond all reasonable measures.

All he could do was squirm happily, and gasp in breathless, gigglish mirth as he discovered what lay beyond the limits of known reality. Both in terms of dimensional teleportation, and personal, physical pleasure.

Now... all he had to do was remain conscious and sane for long enough to retain that knowledge, and hope that Jeeves would be able to find and rescue him, so he had someone to share it with.

By Jeeves