Fran pushed Max into Brighton's room, signalling for him to go on. As the patriarch of the Sheffield household approached the bed, a voice rang out from the head buried in pillows. "Go away!!!"
"Brighton, my son, what has gotten into you?" Max sat on the bed as the blond kid sat up, frowning. "You left all of a sudden during dinner, and now you're in pajamas, going to bed...at 8 in the evening?!" Brighton rolled his eyes at his father's disbelief. "Well, you let Maggie go to her stupid date, and Gracie to see Disneyland with Fran and Sylvia...but you didn't let me go to Hollywood with my friends!", "It's too far away, son! And I'm currently overseeing a broadway show, and Niles is sick...who can come with you? Hmmm, actually, maybe CC can-" "Ewww, forget it!" Max laughed. "There problem solved, now give your father a hug..." Brighton raised an eyebrow. "Dad, seriously?" Max sighed, then removed his coat and set it down onto a chair. "Well, my son wants to play hard-to-get huh?" The blonde kid cringed. "W-What are you-AAAAGH!!!!" Max lunged at the boy playfully, and Brighton caught his dad's hands and pushed against him. "W-What are you doing?!?!"
"What are you afraid of being beaten by your old dad?" asked Max playfully. "You're on old man" retorted Brighton. Max slung his son on the bed and grabbed his sides to sling him again, when Brighton squealed "AHHH". "What was that Brighton?" asked Maxwell. "Uhh, nothing just sensitive I guess." he assured his father. "I think I know what it is" smirked the millionaire. "You're ticklish." "No I'm not, really!" exclaimed a now panicked Brighton.
Max grabbed his son's hands and pinned them above his head, exposing the whole upper body. Max dug his fingers into the ribs, counting them to get at Brighton even more. "1, 2,3,4..." "DAAAADDDD SSSTTTOOPPPPP DDDOONNNTTTT" shouted the boy as he was trying to pull his arms free from his father's grasp. Max kept tickling him and lifted up the t shirt. He dug in the pale tummy, making his son jump and thrash wildly. He then started exploring the hairless pits. They were almost waiting for some ticklish attention. Maxwell glided his nails along the hollow underarms swiftly, not giving his son time to get use to the current position or sensation.
Brighton squealed and roared with laughter as he twisted and turned wildly, trying in vain to escape his father's clutches - Max turned out to be an excellent tickler though, and his son would receive his most memorable tickle torture of his life. "DAAAAAAADDDD HAHAHAHAHAHA PPPLEAAAASE STOP STOOOPPPPP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" The millionaire had just given him a wicked raspberry, and Brighton jumped in response, kicking frantically as the armpit tickling sped up. Finally, he managed to kick his father off, but it was too late before the blonde kid realized how big of a mistake it was.
Max grabbed his ankle and pulled him down to the ground. Brighton tried to fight off his dad but soon realized he was no match for him. Maxwell flipped his son on his stomach and laid across his back and held the ankle with one hand and slipped off the clean white sock with the other.
"DDAADDDD DDDOOONNNTTTT NOOOTTTTT MYYYYY FFFEEEEEETTTT!!!" screamed the blonde. Max fueled off his son's fear of tickling. He brought his fingers toward the foot, until he was dazed by how nice his son's feet were, I mean he didn't have a foot fetish but they were so smooth, and just a little pink, and really clean. He thought his own feet were nice but these put his to shame. And just as he was about to dive into his son's awaiting soles, he felt one of his own shoes being tugged off. His head turned around to stop Brighton but not before the blonde got a few good tickle jabs at his dad's sheer socked foot. He knew his dad's feet were extremely ticklish and why not get back at him while he could? The sneaky tickle assault gave Max even more reason to torture his son, and he sure did.
Brighton's efforts to kick Max off and pull his feet away increased ten-fold, but Max had the size and strength advantage that he was able to half-defend and half-tickle his son at the same time. The boy tried his hard to contain his laughter but loud giggles emanated instantly from him whenever his father's fingers stroked his sole. Then, out of the blue, he felt a fingernail scrape the instep of the unsocked foot.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" Max cringed at his son's very loud and shrill shriek, but took the opportunity to pull the bare foot closer as Brighton bucked violently. Then, upon securing his son's foot in an armlock, Max began to scratch on the same ultra-sensitive spot, this time with five fingernails scratching lightly.
Brighton was surprised by his dad's sudden tickle monster attitude, and even more surprised at how good a tickler he was. He thought he was gonna wet himself after all the torture. Max continued to scratch and scribble at the ultra tender spot on the pale sole. He was enjoying himself, tickling his son seemed to make him feel more paternal and a little powerful. Having complete dominance over a super ticklish 13 year old gave him a sense of deviance.
"AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DAAAAAD STTTOOOOOPPP PLEEEAAAASE HAHAHAHAHAHA"Max could feel his son desperately tugging his limbs, especially his legs, but his armlock is firm - and all Brighton can do anyways is beat his back weakly with his fists before collapsing back to the bed, shrieking and laughing while his arms flail wildly. When the millionaire scratched in between his son's cute slender toes, the pillows behind them flew in random directions as Brighton screamed, pulling on the sheets as his entire body writhed with ticklish electricity. The blonde kid already had tears brimming on his eyes.
"AAAAHHHHH STTTOOOPPPPPP TTTTTIIICCCCCKKLLLIIINNNGGG MEEEEEEEE" begged the now desperate Brighton. In one swift move he jumped up and rearranged his son's legs so he was holding both ankles facing his face with one arm, so he could tickle both feet. He started exploiting his toes, digging right under the sensitive ten digits. This sent the blonde in another massive bucking and jerking and laughing fit. Max kept tickling and scratching the unbelievably sensitive toes, driving Brighton into a convulsion of jerking and screaming. "AAHHAHAHAHAAA PPPLLLLEEEAAASSSSEEEE SSTTTOOPPPPPPPP TTTIIICCCKKLLLIINNGGG MYYYYYY FEEEETTTTT!!!" begged the blonde. He was sweaty and desperate at this point. Maxwell then pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and began writing on the soft soles. This gave rise to a whole new fit of laughter.
"AAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA STTTOOOPPPPPP DDDAAADDDD!" screamed Brighton. His dad was getting rather sadistic. He scribbled the pen right along his most ticklish spot as fast as the pen would go, not pressing hard, but just enough to tickle. The blonde thought he was going to pass out when....
Maxwell stopped all of a sudden, seeing how much of a mess his son is. He covered his mouth with a tinge of guilt. "Oh dear, Brighton, my son...I am so sorry, I-I think I got carried away..." The blonde kid held onto his father's wrist as the millionaire tried to stand up with a worried expression on his face. "C'mon Dad, it was nothing! I could take more of that!" Max laughed nervously at this. "No, no, no son...you've had enough..." So Mr. Sheffield tucked his son in and cut the light out, leaving Brighton to go to sleep. All that night the 13 year old blonde dreamed of his dad tickling him, with him laughing and fighting him the whole time. Those were the best dreams he'd had in a while, or maybe ever....