Scenario:Write a complete intensely suspenseful homoerotic story with a complete narrative of fear and danger with a logical flow and satisfactory conclusion following this prompt closely: A hot blonde guy with collar length curly hair named Rob wearing a black neoprene wetsuit over dirty white nylon blend crew socks with three red stripes and a red line across the top of the toes. Rob is swimming on a hot summer night. The lake is warm as bath water. His socks make is feet hot and sweaty and pull at the toes, flopping around while the cloth ripples along his soles, slowing his forward progression. Without warning, strong hands grab Rob's ankles, pulling him down into the inky depths. Panic surged through him as he is held under by five strong, lithe hot guys equipped with scuba gear, their laughter echoing through the water as they breathe deeply to tease Rob. "Where are you going?" One asks through a state of the art underwater talking device. "You're not going anywhere. Not with those socks on. They slow you down. We have fins on and will catch you really easily." Rob's eyes search for escape, but he's surrounded by their taught bodies and face masks. His heart beats fast as he twists and turns in their clutches, pushing him deeper by his shoulders as they suck air from regulators and he has to go without a steady supply of life giving oxygen. They were playing a breath holding game game with him, and Rob was the breath holder. Their grip never wavered, as they loop Rob a few times to disorient him. "How long do you think you can go without air?" One asked. The question wasn't lost on Rob as his chest pounded. As one wrapped his arms around Rob's torso, three of the studly guys began to tickle Rob's socked feet, their fingers like eels slipping and slithering through the water across his defenseless socked feet. Rob squirmed and struggled as the piercing sensations invaded his defenseless soles, giggling and driven wild by the electrical distractions, his lungs burning for air, but they held him firmly. Fingers traced ticklish paths all across every curve and contour of Rob's socked feet. His mind raced with fear and confusion as the almost electrical thrill grew more and more intense in his airless desperation. Why were they doing this? What did they want from him? One diver cuts the arms and torso of the wetsuit off, admiring Rob's pects. He then pokes fingers into Rob's armpits making the tickling of his feet that much worse, rakes fingertips down his sides causing shivers through Rob's body, and then tickles at his bellybutton, eyeing Rob's still sheathed erection. The diver then slices the waist of what's left of the wetsuit, exposing Rob's stiff cock standing straight out as the rest of the neoprene falls away leaving Rob wearing only his thick, heavy, dirty white socks which are being worked over ever so efficiently by the three guys with an obvious fetish for vulnerable male socked feet. Rob's feet frantically flexed and curled around, seemingly making the tickles worse as quick, light touches ignited his awareness and thrilled his plantar nerves. The guy behind Rob breathed in his ear, sucking fresh air as Rob's mouth opened and gaped. As fingers probed every ticklish area on the bottoms of his socks, Rob couldn't shake them. He couldn't break free. He was nude with socks on and hard as hell. The fifth hot scuba guy was in front of him, grinning and chuckling at the desperate breath holder, his flippered feet splashing at the surface. Through his goggles and at the edges of Rob's distracted perceptions where a never ending scrawl of three sets of fingers lightly stroked his insanely ticklish soles, Rob saw white socks with a swoosh logo. The diver's legs came down and swung out in front of him. Feet prickling with insane intensity, Rob giggled and quickly worked the diver's fins off and pulled the diver's socked feet right over his own nose and mouth, masking his face with dirty cloth covered feet, sniffing the air bubbles in the socks. But the smell of lake water and dried sweat mixed with dirt and petroleum slammed Rob's olfactory nerves. Rob groaned around the escaping giggles as fingers slid across his socked feet. Rob let air out and sniffed it back, repeating the process as the socks ballooned with air and then shrank with each fantic inhale as Rob tried to sustain himself, willing to breathe old dirty socks to stay conscious, effectively smelling these socks underwater. His resolve against laughter was more and more strained with every passing moment as twenty-four fingers scrawled and scrabbled across his soles, his socks offering no protection. None of the ticklish sensations were muted or deflected, in fact, only enhanced by the socks and the incredible awareness they brought to Rob's feet while swimming. The diver laughed at Rob as his feet warmed with Rob's breaths. "He really needs air!" he exclaimed, eyes locked on Rob's eyes. He liked how his socks were being worshiped underwater. The guy behind Rob smiled wide, fresh air flowing in and out of his lungs at will while Rob edged closer and closer to passing out and drowning. Continue story here...