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Day 1, Entry 1
9:00 AM-10:15 AM
We woke up Sully without any means of tickling today. We didn't quite reveal just what he was in for at the time of waking him up. We didn't strip him of any his clothes quite yet either. We agreed that wanted it to be a built-up process, We also agreed that we wanted to have some degrees of humanity, even as the evil people we are, heheh. As a result, we made sure Sully was granted whatever he requested for breakfast. He was understandably still quite annoyed with his situation, and chose to stay silent.
He was presented with scrambled eggs and orange juice, and told that he would be going without lunch if he didn't eat up. We wanted our little toy to have the energy to squirm and squeal in his bonds, after all. The little squirt still wouldn't eat. He probably thought he was the toughest piece of work in the whole world.
For his sake, we threatened to capture his roommate if he didn't eat. Within a flash, his protest ended with a begrudging growl. With his hands restrained in front of him via cuffs attached to the table, and his waist and legs tied down to the chair, we made sure to assert power over him even when he wasn't undergoing his purpose.
After finishing breakfast, my strongest colleagues dragged him over to his bed. His first session took place in a familiar environment instead of our more kinky and intimidating setups. With a struggle, we managed to tie the boy down and strip him of his shirt. We also tied a thick plastic wrap around either of the boy's hands to make sure they stayed unable to put up a fight. Sully shot us a look of confusion, but made sure that he kept an angry expression in the midst of this.
To assert power over him, we made sure his folded shirt was kept just out of his reach. We wanted him to know that his upper body's only protection had been easily stripped away, and we would make sure he wouldn't forget. Our team continued to reveal nothing regarding what Sully was about to go through until a sea of well-manicured fingers, some accompanied with with artificial clawed thimbles, loomed over him.
As soon as we jumped in, a girlish squeal erupted into the room, followed by a deep inhale. Amusingly, we reduced his only means of protest to gritting his teeth and cussing us out under his breath. His embarrassing lack of muscle made his ribs easily accessible. One of us capitalized on this, and played his ribs like a glockenspiel- (a xylophone doesn't make quite the high pitched noise that the glockenspiel of Sully's laughter did). I gleefully worked on his armpits, adorably bereft of any hair. It worked for me; his armpits' sweet spots were that much more easily accessible. His belly was savagely squeezed and attacked as well; we found that the little pudgy area just around the navel was his weak spot. Perhaps his worst spot on his upper body.
Despite his immense sensitivity, his willpower was admirable. No matter how many of our tickly hands jumped in, the boy simply refused to give us his adorable laughter. Gritted, muffled, whimpering laughter held itself in like soda in a shaken bottle. Finally, however, somebody had the evil idea to give his ear a teasing nibble, and the little redhead burst into laughter. We all applauded her for her sinister, sneaky little antic. I remember another one of the team members, who was waiting her turn, jumped in to deliver some ear nibbles of her own. If I weren't so focused on tickling, I would have probably noticed who it was.
After the ear nibbles were applied, Sully completely lost all elements of toughness. He squealed and giggled like a little girl. As his laughter filled the room, we all began to tease at him in belittling ways. Much to what I am sure was his extreme rage, our high-pitched coos ranged from the standard "Tickle, tickle!" to "No chest hair, tough guy?" I can only imagine with glee how embarrassing it must have been for him. How enraging it was for somebody as no-nonsense as him to be completely bombarded with belittling coos and taunts.
Despite breaking open the bottle that locked Sully's laughter away, and his effeminate laughter itself flooding the atmosphere, he wasn't broken in quite yet. His rage still burned; he was not going to comply with us as a tickle pet should. He still flung cusses at his owners, and he still burst out an occasional threat. It would be a matter of time before we broke him in, though.
His session for his upper body would last for an hour after it began at 9:15. There's something so delectably evil about inflicting a whole hour of something that somebody totally can't handle upon them. It's even more sinister when I consider how I myself would be unable to handle a minute of this!
Eventually, we had to give him a rest. A well-deserved rest, but one nobody truly wanted to give to him. It was a thing of beauty to see our tickle pet exhausted, a little sweaty, panting like a dog. It was a testament to a tormentor's job well done. For fifteen minutes, he will be allowed to rest. At the time of writing, only eight minutes remain before we drag him off for the second session, focusing where the scans picked up the most vulnerable readings of his nervous system:
his feet.
It begins!
At this point, Sully still has a little bit of a small body, but I somewhat work on his proportions as these sketches progress. There's a lot of dialogue in these; you'll have to excuse my uh... horniness.
His shoes are still on, by the way. Join us next time for further Sully aboose.
9:00 AM-10:15 AM
We woke up Sully without any means of tickling today. We didn't quite reveal just what he was in for at the time of waking him up. We didn't strip him of any his clothes quite yet either. We agreed that wanted it to be a built-up process, We also agreed that we wanted to have some degrees of humanity, even as the evil people we are, heheh. As a result, we made sure Sully was granted whatever he requested for breakfast. He was understandably still quite annoyed with his situation, and chose to stay silent.
He was presented with scrambled eggs and orange juice, and told that he would be going without lunch if he didn't eat up. We wanted our little toy to have the energy to squirm and squeal in his bonds, after all. The little squirt still wouldn't eat. He probably thought he was the toughest piece of work in the whole world.
For his sake, we threatened to capture his roommate if he didn't eat. Within a flash, his protest ended with a begrudging growl. With his hands restrained in front of him via cuffs attached to the table, and his waist and legs tied down to the chair, we made sure to assert power over him even when he wasn't undergoing his purpose.
After finishing breakfast, my strongest colleagues dragged him over to his bed. His first session took place in a familiar environment instead of our more kinky and intimidating setups. With a struggle, we managed to tie the boy down and strip him of his shirt. We also tied a thick plastic wrap around either of the boy's hands to make sure they stayed unable to put up a fight. Sully shot us a look of confusion, but made sure that he kept an angry expression in the midst of this.
To assert power over him, we made sure his folded shirt was kept just out of his reach. We wanted him to know that his upper body's only protection had been easily stripped away, and we would make sure he wouldn't forget. Our team continued to reveal nothing regarding what Sully was about to go through until a sea of well-manicured fingers, some accompanied with with artificial clawed thimbles, loomed over him.
As soon as we jumped in, a girlish squeal erupted into the room, followed by a deep inhale. Amusingly, we reduced his only means of protest to gritting his teeth and cussing us out under his breath. His embarrassing lack of muscle made his ribs easily accessible. One of us capitalized on this, and played his ribs like a glockenspiel- (a xylophone doesn't make quite the high pitched noise that the glockenspiel of Sully's laughter did). I gleefully worked on his armpits, adorably bereft of any hair. It worked for me; his armpits' sweet spots were that much more easily accessible. His belly was savagely squeezed and attacked as well; we found that the little pudgy area just around the navel was his weak spot. Perhaps his worst spot on his upper body.
Despite his immense sensitivity, his willpower was admirable. No matter how many of our tickly hands jumped in, the boy simply refused to give us his adorable laughter. Gritted, muffled, whimpering laughter held itself in like soda in a shaken bottle. Finally, however, somebody had the evil idea to give his ear a teasing nibble, and the little redhead burst into laughter. We all applauded her for her sinister, sneaky little antic. I remember another one of the team members, who was waiting her turn, jumped in to deliver some ear nibbles of her own. If I weren't so focused on tickling, I would have probably noticed who it was.
After the ear nibbles were applied, Sully completely lost all elements of toughness. He squealed and giggled like a little girl. As his laughter filled the room, we all began to tease at him in belittling ways. Much to what I am sure was his extreme rage, our high-pitched coos ranged from the standard "Tickle, tickle!" to "No chest hair, tough guy?" I can only imagine with glee how embarrassing it must have been for him. How enraging it was for somebody as no-nonsense as him to be completely bombarded with belittling coos and taunts.
Despite breaking open the bottle that locked Sully's laughter away, and his effeminate laughter itself flooding the atmosphere, he wasn't broken in quite yet. His rage still burned; he was not going to comply with us as a tickle pet should. He still flung cusses at his owners, and he still burst out an occasional threat. It would be a matter of time before we broke him in, though.
His session for his upper body would last for an hour after it began at 9:15. There's something so delectably evil about inflicting a whole hour of something that somebody totally can't handle upon them. It's even more sinister when I consider how I myself would be unable to handle a minute of this!
Eventually, we had to give him a rest. A well-deserved rest, but one nobody truly wanted to give to him. It was a thing of beauty to see our tickle pet exhausted, a little sweaty, panting like a dog. It was a testament to a tormentor's job well done. For fifteen minutes, he will be allowed to rest. At the time of writing, only eight minutes remain before we drag him off for the second session, focusing where the scans picked up the most vulnerable readings of his nervous system:
his feet.
It begins!
At this point, Sully still has a little bit of a small body, but I somewhat work on his proportions as these sketches progress. There's a lot of dialogue in these; you'll have to excuse my uh... horniness.
His shoes are still on, by the way. Join us next time for further Sully aboose.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Fetish Other
Species Human
Size 1280 x 1204px
File Size 239.2 kB
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