GayBondageFiction

Ray is a 19 yo bi twink with cute face, nice tight body, and an impressive package. He submits punishing OTK spanking with the boy begging Carlos to stop his assault the entire time. Running Time: 10 Minutes

Hunky Marine bound to a stool giving his abusive bud a perfect position to give his ass a good spanking. Nick spanks the helpless dude with his hands & paddle. Then Nick moves Ayden to the couch for more spanking OTK but Ayden turn turns the tables on the unsuspecting Nick. Running Time: 12 Minutes

A jock-strapped & barefoot Ayden endures a bit rougher tickle torture the second time around as Nick alternates between tickling with his bare hands and torturing poor dude with the prickly pinwhell on his pits, torso, feet & cock and balls. Running Time: 12 Minutes

Ayden is bound to a railing in a very vulnerable position and Nick takes advantage of the situation; rolling tennis balls into the poor dude’s sensitive cock and balls, applying clothespins, and enjoying a taste of the stud’s cock. Then Ayden is rebound bent over the railing and submits to some ass play. Then Nick moves the the ex-marine over to his bed and fingers his virgin ass. Finally, Nick sucks Ayden’s cock and Ayden strokes off producing a nice load across his chest. Running Time: 21 Minutes

25 yo tattooed bisexual dude DC is bound and submits to his first tickle torture on pits, chest, torso, feet & crotch and then endures a session with the prickly pinwheel on those same tender areas. Running Time: 19 Minutes

DC is tied down to a bed by his abusive bud Nick who pulls out electric clippers and proceeds to shave his hairy chest and stomach. Then Nick strokes and sucks DC’s cock forcing a cum shot out of the now hairless dude. Running Time: 15 Minutes

25 yo tattooed bisexual dude DC is bound to a stool. Nick shaves his hairy ass then proceeds to put the poor dude through an intense spanking and paddling. Running Time: 10 Minutes

Hairy bi-dude DC is bound in a couple of positions by his older master who sucks and strokes his captive cock causing DC to shoot a load that reaches his face. Running Time: 7 Minutes

Mark is a HOT straight tattooed stud Mark who submits to abuse at the hands of gay muscular Riddick. The poor boy is bound and blindfolded and endures a good shaving, tickling & his first gay oral action. The look on his face as he gets his first taste of cock is priceless. We really pushed this straight dude to his limit. Running Time: 27 Minutes

Cute Corey is a young gay twink type who loves to be dominated. He is bound and receives a good flogging, suck, and happy ending. Running Time: 11 minutes

Another hairy muscle boy finds himself in tight bondage in this clip from Men on Edge! Nick Capra is bound is several different positions that offer easy access to his nice cock for an hour of cock teasing and cum control.

Hunter’s sexual training continues and he forced to perform in another public show this time featuring naked oil wrestling.
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Captured Abroad – Part 4
by Connor […]

 A drunken rowdy “Mighty Bear” is abducted by two admirers who subject the hairy dude to multiple bound tickling sessions.
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Bear Season
by David

Randy Ballard stormed into the establishment cursing and stomped his way up to the bar.

Randy was a powerfully built man who looked like football had been his sport in school. In fact, his nickname in high school had been “The Mighty Bear”. His bearded face was surmounted by a tousled crown of dark brown hair, and the general impression he gave was one of slate-eyed violence. It was clear that he had already been drinking, but he ordered more potent potables and drank until he was ready to fight someone. As I sat not too far from the bar, I couldn’t help staring at his feet. I knew that they were at least a size fourteen even without the workboots they were currently shod in.

And I was wondering how ticklish those big feet were as Darnel King and I sat over beers at our tiny shadow-shrouded table. Me and Darnel were as good at logging as any men in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom (better than most even) but neither he nor I had ever been accepted at the camp–me because the word had gotten around that I liked guys, and Darnel for another reason. In simple ways, the other loggers froze us out: we weren’t included in the poker games or picked on by anyone to be a partner on a team . . . things like that. I bitched a lot about it, but Darnel always stayed quiet, though I could see the rage seething behind his dark eyes.

And Darnel, of course, was the most obvious target for Randy to focus his drunken anger on. And after he got stoked enough, he went right to work–shoving the alienated logger in his chest and demanding that they do battle.

Darnel looked rather hurt (but not really surprised) by the larger man’s disposition. He even tried to walk away. But Randy took him by the arm and bluntly wheeled him around–telling the alienated logger that he simply wouldn’t be allowed to leave the area until the two of them came to blows. Many of the mighty bear’s friends stood behind Randy to give teeth to the irate man’s edict.

So Darnel merely marched out to the lot behind the bar, stepped back a bit and put up his fists.

Randy bared his teeth and rushed at the alienated logger. He tried to use both of his meaty hands to shove Darnel in the chest again, but the alienated logger deftly caught his wrists and turned them outward with all his might. Randy screeched. Tears poured from his gray eyes and his big, pale hands were flopping about like dead fish because both of his wrists were now broken.

And while he was so was distracted by his useless hands, Darnel hauled back and plowed the mighty bear’s jaw.

The onlooking rabble gazed at their humiliated companion in wonder. Randy collapsed boneless to the ground, gray eyes rolled up and with his hands still flopping.

For a moment the onlookers backed away, and Randy lay motionless. I myself was wondering if the mighty bear was dead. Darnel, however, was clearly trying to figure out a way to guard himself against retaliation–to keep these hateful men from taking him on like a mob tomorrow or the day after. He realized that, if he didn’t end all future fights right then and there, things were only going to get worse for him. He already didn’t fit into the Northeast Kingdom, and now that he flattened a popular local . . . .

This being the case, I didn’t blame Darnel for what he did next. Didn’t blame him one bit when he viciously the kicked the big man who lay helplessly before him. Randy moaned and rolled away from his attacker. Darnel walked around him and kicked him again, in the crotch and then again in the ribs. Randy was in so much pain that he couldn’t make a peep: he only doubled up into a fetal position as tears streamed out of his scrunched-closed eyes.

Darnel kicked Randy in the head, and the irate man passed out. I stared at Randy’s feet–wanting desperately to rip the workboots and socks off his big feet and take a gander at his bare doggies.

Darnel looked around at the onlookers coldly. Everything that needed to be said was written in his dark eyes then. He was letting everyone know that if they even dreamed about ganging up on him, they could expect an even worse beating than the one which felled the mighty bear. I wondered why they didn’t all just rush him right then? Did they see what I saw right then–a man who was fully capable of murdering an entire mob? I dunno.

Anyway, once all the fearful onlookers began to flee the scene, Darnel looked as if he might vomit–as if his own actions had revolted him. “Y’all know I only meant to keep his punk ass from hurtin’ me.”

“No you didn’t!” Jethro Cunningham, one of Randy’s compatriots, accused. “I saw you plotting your moves before you and Randy started fighting. You contorted his wrists with all your might on purpose . . . you meant to hurt him that bad!”

And Darnel lowered his head–silently admitting to everyone that Jethro’s words were true. The alienated logger may not have wanted to fight, but the injuries he’d administered during the battle had been deliberate. He felt good about putting Randy down, and yet he felt bad about how good it had felt to beat the irate bear senseless. It took me five minutes to convince him that what he’d done SHOULD have felt good . . . that maybe he had done what it took to convince Randy to stop being an ass.

And because Jethro had fled the scene (disgusted and too drunk to recall the fact that he had left his buddy behind) Darnel and I decided to take the unconscious Randy home.

To MY home. You see, besides being outcasts in the logging camp, Darnel and I had something else in common.

One guess at what it was!

Anyway, when we reached my house, Darnel and I carried Randy into the living room and dumped him on a chaise lounge. Darnel then moved Randy’s wrists behind the lounge and bound them to it, and then bound the unconscious man’s legs to it as well. And after removing the mighty bear’s humid workboots and sweaty socks, the two of us simply sat and waited for our sleeping bruised and battered captive to regain consciousness.

With me holding Randy down in case he should awaken, Darnel wrapped the rope around the man’s wrists, tying them together. He then wrapped more around the mighty bear’s ankles and finally tied a large knot that Randy would be completely unable reach with his bound meaty hands. I myself tightened all of the knots. While I blindfolded our knocked out big-footed boy, Darnel retrieved a pair of string shoelaces, and used one to tie the toes on Randy’s left size fourteen foot together, then used the other to do the same to his right foot.

Finally, the mighty bear began to awaken

Randy immediately began to struggle against his ropes, trying to wrench his hands out from the cords that bound his hands tightly together, and trying to move his feet. All this was in vain, of course. In fact the ropes seemed actually to TIGHTEN. He wasn’t even able to get the blindfold off no matter how cleverly he tried to move his shoulders to do so. Eventually the mighty bear reached the point where he attempted to scream through the gag, but only a muffled “mmmpphh!” could penetrate it. I took the gag off after a while.

Randy’s laughter was incredible as Darnel and I began to tickle away at the sensitive skin on his big smelly, meaty soles.

“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heee!!!!! Hahahahahohohohoheheheheha ha ha ha!!!” The laughter seemed to just go on and on and on and on. His laughter and screams were so loud that we had to re-gag the mighty bear. And once that was done, the tickling Darnel and I were giving his big, pale feet continued. We fingered the sensitive arches of his size fourteen doggies, and tormented his toes. Despite the shoestrings, Randy’s manly toes tried their best to wriggle all about, but only gained very limited movement.

Darnel and I were enjoying ourselves immensely as we raked our hands over Randy’s twitching and flexing bare soles. We poked and prodded at every inch of each foot, and each poke created a response from the once mighty bear that included more muffled screaming, and more movement of his feet. Randy moved his feet around and his bound toes tried gamely to twitch and wiggle as he struggled to escape the torment. Eventually Darnel missed the sound of the mighty bear’s unrestrained laughter, so we took the gag off once again.

“Hee-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahahaha-hehehehehehe!!!!” shrieked Randy as Darnel and I wreaked havoc on his vibrating, bound feet. “Heheheheheheheheheheheheheha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Please!!!!-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee- heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!”

Once he fainted from our torment, Darnel and I had fun by tying the mighty bear to the hood of the alienated logger’s Ford Explorer and speeding along the reasonably traveled back-roads–laughing and waving at gawking motorists.

After we had our fun with him, Darnel and I dumped Randy Ballard’s naked unconscious body off in the lot behind the bar.

And there were times when–as we carried Randy to the lot–that the mighty bear seemed to cease breathing completely, and there were anxious moments when my own breath came laboriously. Randy Ballard was a hateful man, but did he deserve to die for being that way? Well, yes, he probably did . . . but I didn’t want his death to be at MY hands. I’m not sure what Darnel felt at this time. However, I was sure that he had dealt with guys like Randy all his life. Perhaps he was of the “one less hater” mindset and wouldn’t have cared at all if the mighty bear died. I dunno.

As far as that FIRST fight that Randy lost to Darnel . . . well, when I retold what happened to some relatives I had in Texas, I found myself confronted by folks who doubted that the onlooking rabble who had witnessed the fight would simply stand and watch while someone like Darnel beat one of their own senseless. Well, I had to inform these people that several of Randy’s “friends” had their own personal animosities as much as Darnel did (I found this out days after the fight however) and felt the mighty bear needed to be taken down a notch.

Well, anyway, Darnel and I dumped the unconscious Randy behind the bar.

Randy Ballard eventually recovered and went back to logging, but he was never quite the same after his experience with Darnel and me. Perhaps it wasn’t the beating that did him harm, but the feeling that here in the Northeast Kingdom–where he had been such a big shot and local hero–he had become nothing but a demeaned joke. He had lost his heart and the fire went out of him. When others shied away from choosing him as his logging partner he continued working at the camp, but the old Randy was gone.

But even though he was humbled, Darnel and I wouldn’t let up with him. Hey, why show mercy to the guy who had shown us none? Why show compassion to the lout who’d called us both the most vile, inflammatory names and urged others to do so as well?

So we decided to make him our plaything again.

Randy was alone and staggering to his motel from the bar weeks later, and Darnel and I pulled up beside him in the Ford Explorer. Gleaning his attention, we leaped out and pounced upon the once mighty bear. Randy tried to fight us off, but Darnel knocked him cold with an uppercut to the point of his chin, and then we loaded his unconscious frame into the vehicle and drove back to my place. Then, tingling with anxiousness, we dumped our captive on the mattress in my bedroom and relieved him of his malodorous workboots and socks.

Immediately our fingers scraped up and down his exceedingly sensitive bare soles, then we used a hairbrush to attack the undersides of his toes. Randy desperately wriggled his toes and tried to refract his feet, but we had bound them too securely. Darnel and I alternated between using a feather and a hairbrush and our own fingers. We inserted the brush’s bristles between the mighty bear’s manly bare toes . . . and used the brush to graze over each toe individually. Randy’s screams made our ears ring, but they were a joy to hear for both me and Darnel.

“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heee!!!!! Hahahahahohohohoheheheheha ha ha ha!!!” Randy shrieked.

“Daaaaaaaaaaamn!” Darnel said, staring down at our captive. “This big- footed-loud-ass-screamin’-punk-mutha-fucka is even more ticklish than the last time!”

The mighty bear’s face, chest, armpits and crotch were sweaty. And, surprisingly, his cock was engorged and throbbing in his trousers. So much so that this must have been causing him considerable discomfort as well. Darnel and I put the feathers and brush aside and attacked Randy’s size fourteen feet with our fingers again. We moved our fingers in circles around his soles, then in zigzag patterns. The mighty bear screamed . . . and his cock throbbed and pulsated. There was clearly fire in his loins, and this fire grew hotter with each stroke of the hairbrush and each scrape of our fingers against the bottoms of his feet.

“Hee-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahahaha-hehehehehehe!!!!” shrieked Randy as Darnel and I attacked his bound feet with more vigor than ever before. “Please!!!!-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!! Heheheheheheheheheheheheheha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Please!!!!-hee-hee- hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!”

“Daaaaaaaaaamn!” Darnel said, clamping a hand to his ear to protect it from Randy’s high-decibel screaming laughter.

Darnel then retrieved the hairbrush once again and began to scrape it between Randy’s toes, then all over his feet–from his slightly rough heels, up his soles, down through his rather high arches and across the balls of his feet. Then he and I both began the whole torture process all over again. Randy arched his back, screamed and ejaculated in his pants at the very moment Darnel used the bristles of the hairbrush to sketch an intensely hypersensitive path from the sole to the heel on the mighty bear’s right foot . . . while I, simultaneously, plunged my hot, wet tongue into our captive’s ear.

After rendering the mighty bear unconscious with a velvet cloth soaked with ether, we loaded him into the Ford.

We moved quickly. Darnel drove to a basically uninhabited area known as a ‘gore’. Then he and I dragged the mighty bear’s unconscious body to the edge of this gore and rolled him into the dense undergrowth. Then we re-started the Ford Explorer and drove away.

I can hardly wait for next season.

David

Hairy muscle god Tatum greatly in this week’s update from 30 Minutes of Torment. Gut punches, flogging, the electric zapper and some creative fucking make this a sizzling hot video!

A military private is the subject of an experimental test run of a new tickle torture device that puts its victim through an intense full body tickling and cum denial session while a sadistic doctor observes the results.
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The IHID Machine
by Jasper Zilch

At the IHID machine:

“Take off your shoes,” Dr. Wilson instructed. “My superiors will skin me if they see mud all over their expensive machine.” As Andy complied, he added, “You might as well take off your socks as well. If you have to spend three hours in this thing, you might as well feel comfortable.”

Andy grinned. “Shirt and shorts as well? Then I would be really comfortable.”

Dr. Wilson smiled. “Ah…no. The IHID capsule is air conditioned, and moreover made of metal. It could get really cold in there. Lie down here please, Private Andy. Just align your body to the outline on the table.”

“Whatever you say, doctor,” Andy replied amiably. He climbed onto the table. The IHID capsule looked like the high tech hospital machine where patients lay on a similar looking ‘bed’ and were slid into a tube-like machine to have their X-rays taken. This’ bed’ however was totally made of metal, and had an outline of a human body drawn on it. Andy arranged himself onto the outline.

Dr. Wilson pressed a button on the outside of the capsule, and the whole table with Andy on it slid into the body of the machine.

“Don’t move,” Dr. Wilson instructed. He pressed another button. Metal cuffs emerged from the table surface and locked around Andy’s neck, elbows, forearms, waist, thighs, legs and ankles.

“Are you comfortable?” Dr. Wilson asked, “Check if you can move.”

“Not an inch,” Andy confirmed after a moment’s attempt.

“Nothing to worry about, Andy,” Dr. Wilson reassured him. “Feel for a small box under your right hand? There’s a button in it. Anytime you want to abort the program, just open the box and click on it. Press it now if you want to test it.”

There was a soft click, and a monitor in front of Andy’s face lit up.

“Program aborted,” a feminine computer voice declared.

“It works, Doc,” Andy said.

“Good. The objective of the program requires that you have to be isolated for the next three hours, so you won’t be able to talk to me, and I won’t be able to talk to you. The only control of the IHID machine is through your button. If you don’t press it, it will run till the program is completed. Sergeant Wilks briefed you what happens after that, right?”

Andy nodded as much as he could with his neck fixed. “I am to fill in a report of what happened during the program.”

“Okay then, I will see you in three hours. Good luck.” The door to the capsule closed with an click.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

“Everything went okay?” Sergeant Wilks asked after Dr. Wilson hurried into the room.

“See for yourself.” The doctor typed a command on his keyboard, and his monitor showed Andy strapped to the table, looking around nervously. “There are several video cameras – all hidden, of course – where we can observe his progress. I’m starting the program now.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule:

The internal of the capsule was brightly lit, and as cold as Doc Wilson promised. So far nothing was happening, apart from the computer monitor hanging above him blinking the words “Program Ready” over and over. Andy didn’t know what would happen. All his sergeant could tell him was that the research division for intelligence needed volunteers for an experiment involving interrogation. Anyone who signed up and stayed for the entire three hours of the program would get three whole days of leave. For the soldiers in his unit who been through two weeks of POW training, this seemed like a great deal, especially since Wilks was able to reassure them that the program was less arduous than the two weeks they had suffered through. Of the soldiers who had volunteered, he was the first to undergo the program.

“Program initiated,” The computer voice said, and suddenly, the capsule started rumbling gently with vibrations. The sterile white light vanished and was replaced by a dim red. Andy could hear the gears winding. Something was happening, and he looked around frantically for it.

The monitor showed numbers counting down from a minute.

Something small and pointed touch each sole of his feet. Finding their target, they proceeded to explore the skin of his soles.

Andy never thought himself as particularly ticklish, but he could not help clenching his toes and reflexively trying to pull his feet in as the probes relentlessly crawled all over his soles. He tried to keep his mind off what was happening to his feet and focused on the monitor. One minute passed, and he was relieved when the probes retracted themselves into the capsule wall and the computer informed him he had two minutes to rest.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

“Wow,” Sergeant Wills stared at the monitor. It showed a pair of feet, presumably Private Andy’s, being attacked by a pair of thin sticks protruding from a small box in the wall of the capsule. “That’s your great interrogation program?” he scoffed.

Dr. Wilson replied, “Don’t judge so soon, Wilks. The program haven’t even been running for a minute yet, and look at your man.” He clicked a button, switching to another monitor.

Andy was obviously in some discomfort, trying hard to pull his legs, or at least move his ankles out of reach of the things that were tickling him, but strapped down as he was, he had nowhere to hide.

“The machine will run for a minute, then two, then four, then eight, up to sixteen minutes with two minute’s rest in between. A total of,” he flipped through a sheaf of papers, “Forty-one minutes.”

“You expect to break a man with forty-one minutes of tickling?” Wilks retorted disbelievingly.

“Don’t underestimate the program. The computer is designed to detect spots on Andy’s soles which are the most sensitive, and adjust itself to hit those spots more frequently as the time limit becomes longer. And remember,” he added with a smile, “The program is three hours long, not a mere forty-one minutes.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: Start of sixteen minute-long Sole Tickling

He lost control somewhere during the four-minute long session and couldn’t stop laughing from then. Since then, the two minute rest intervals seemed frustratingly short while the eight minute tickle session lasted forever.

The probes were getting more sadistic, tickling his soles without a discernible pattern, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, tracing every kind of pattern across his sensitive sole skin. He could feel a hardon coming on for some unknown reason, and was glad that no one could see it.

Only a minute of the sixteen had passed! Fifteen more to go, surely he could get through this. Andy, between convulsive chortling, checked the timer again. He blinked. The timer had stopped running and was fixed at 14.56, but the tickling went on with a vengeance.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

Doctor Wilson chuckled. “The timer stopped.”

“What?” Sergeant Wilks got to his feet, concerned.

“It’s alright, just part of the program,” Wilson explained. “It has a psychological effect to make the time seem longer. Look, Andy seems to be enjoying himself.”

Andy was laughing uncontrollably, trying hard to jerk his arms and legs free from the restrains. Despite the cold (the monitor displayed a temperature of 18 degrees Celsius), his PT shirt was stained with sweat and more sweat was rolling off his forehead.

“Is he okay?” Wilks asked.

“His heart rate is high but that’s to be expected,” Wilson replied.

“Everything looks fine to me.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (7 minutes into the 16 minute session)

Andy longed to press the abort button. In fact, he opened the plastic casing over it several times, half-daring himself to press it. But he didn’t. If his friends heard that he succumbed to tickling, they would never let him forget it.

The computer must be spoiled, he thought. Surely it has been sixteen minutes by now.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (8th minute of 16)

“Hey Wilks, watch this,” Wilson said and clicked his mouse.

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (8 minutes into the 16 minute session)

The probes suddenly stopped. Andy closed his eyes in relief, panting heavily. It was over.

After a second of peaceful quiet, the probes cheerfully whirred to life again.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (8th minute of 16)

“You are a sadistic bastard, Wilson,” Wilks scolded, laughing at the comical expression of sheer dismay on his soldier’s face when the machine started running again.

“Just part of the program, Sergeant. Uh oh, is he going to press it?”

Wilson asked, seeing Andy flip open the plastic casing again. Andy did not. “That was close. It would be quite the embarrassment if one of your men gave up so early,” he said wryly.

“He won’t,” Wilks replied confidently.

“Really?” Wilson asked, “Let’s see how he handles the next big disappointment.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (14 minutes of 16)

The monitor flickered and caught his eye. The countdown was running again, from where it had stopped at 14.56. 14.55…14.54…..14.53…Andy started to swear.

IHID capsule 16 minutes of 16

In mid giggle, sharply, the red light switched off and cold white light replaced it. Simultaneously, the foot probes retracted and the calm computer voice declared a five minute rest period. Andy relaxed. It was really over this time.

The monitor started to count down from 5 minutes.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (4th minute of 5 minute break)

The computer started beeping.

Dr. Wilson started pushing keys, concentrating intently on his monitor.

“What’s going on, Wilson?” Wilks leaned forward to look. The capsule was flooded in red light again. A metal claw had descended from the roof of the capsule, and Andy was staring at it nervously.

“Have to do things manually here. We haven’t a safe automated way of doing this yet.” Wilson squinted at the monitor, which began to zoom in.

“This? What’s ‘this’?” Wilks demanded.

The claw lowered itself until it rested on the metal cuff around Andy’s neck. It opened its jaws to bite on the front part of the collar of the shirt, and with a buzzing sound, proceeded to cut the shirt open from collar to waist.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Wilson said as he guided the claw. “The part that is doing the cutting is never in direct contact with his skin. Okay, now for the sleeves.” The claw moved unerringly to cut the left sleeve from the edge at the arm to the collar, then worked on the right. Andy was yelling at the claw, but he didn’t dare to move for fear of being cut.

“All right, I’m done. Lowering the capsule temperature now.” The claw bit down on each segment of the shredded shirt and yanked it away. “You did bring a spare change of clothes for him like I told you, did you?”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (4th minute of the 5 minute break)

Andy shivered. The machine had chop his shirt into three pieces, yanked them from his torso and dropped them beside him. It only took forty-five seconds. He had fifteen seconds of amnesty left.

Monitor: 5…4….3…2…1. Rest period concluded. Phase II of IHID commencing.

A box-like part above his chest lowered from the roof of his capsule.

Disbelievingly, he saw four probes emerge from it to rest lightly on his abdomen. Each of the four had a flat, circular end, and from the flat surface of each end whirred a number of smaller probes that rotated around each other.

At his feet, he felt the probes returning to caress his soles.

Monitor: 1.00….0.59….0.58

With perfect synchrony, they started to twirl.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (1st minute of Phase II)

“Wow, look at that,” Wilks whistled as he saw Andy yelling and laughing as the six probes tickled him. He could see the muscles in the soldier’s abdomen contracting spasmodically, the muscles in his arms and neck becoming apparent as he strained and squirm.

“A true isometric workout,” Wilson replied grinning,

“He’s turning red in the face.” Wilks commented.

Wilson stared at the readings on his monitor. “Heart rate still in the safe range. Nothing to worry about.”

“How long this time?” Wilks asked.

“Same as just now,” he replied, “Only that his monitor will turn off the countdown earlier, after this session in fact.”

“He won’t be able to tell how long he has for -” Wilks paused to calculate.

“Forty minutes,” Wilson supplied.

“Oh boy,” Wilks shook his head in sympathy. “Is it me or is there music playing in the background?” He could hear faint symphony music coming through the speakers interspersed with the sounds of Andy yelling and laughing.

“That’s my idea. A short piece of classical music played over and over, while the probes dance to it. It’s going to drive him nuts.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Beginning of the 8 minute-long full body tickling)

Andy couldn’t believe it. Two more flat ended probes were coming out of the devil’s box. The new comers paid exclusive attention to his upper chest and nipples, while four managed his abdominal area, and the two original pointed tip probes still danced on his soles. His dick was so hard that it hurt, constrained by his briefs, and his nipples were erecting.

(End of 8 minute long full body tickling: Rest interval)

Computer voice: “8 minutes IHID complete. Rest interval.” The capsule flooded with white light again.

He couldn’t believe that he lived through it. Even though the probes had withdrawn, his muscles still twitched spasmodically in the cold air though nothing had touched them.

Computer voice: “Fifteen seconds rest interval beginning now.”

Fifteen seconds! The monitor had ceased to countdown an eternity ago, so he couldn’t check to see if there was a mistake. Anxiously he counted to fifteen. Nothing.

Another five seconds later. Still nothing but that confounded music.

The light of the capsule changed to red. Swearing, Andy steeled himself as he watched the probes descend to molest his unprotected body. His arms were moving! Helplessly, he felt the table move under his restrained arms, bringing them away from his body – Exposing his armpits! Two tiny probes with the flat ends emerged from the table between his arms and his torso.

Computer voice: “Beginning sixteen minutes IHID now.”

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (After 5 minutes REST, Beginning Phase III)

“What happens now?” Wilks asked, watching Andy groan as his sweat drenched body twitched.

“Hang on,” Wilson replied. He typed in a command, and the metal claw dropped from the ceiling. With the precision shown when removing Andy’s shirt, the claw, controlled by Wilson, tore off his shorts. Wilks could hear Andy repeating “shit…shit…shit…shit” through the speaker. The claw then snag the edge of his white briefs, and pulled downwards, exposing his scrotum and penis. His dick was as straight as a spear.

Wilson typed another command. A translucent tube with a metal cylindrical dropped from the ceiling of the capsule over Andy’s pelvic area. Guided by remote, the metal cylinder fitted snugly over Andy’s penis, covering it completely from sight.

“Good God, what is that?” Wilks gaped.

“Here,” Wilson took something from a drawer and tossed it to Wilks, “It’s the same as that black metal thing there.”

Wilks peered into it. There were a few short bristle-like things on the interior surface, and a whole colony of longer ones at one end.

Whatever it was, it was starting its work, for Andy suddenly started straining harder than ever and making gasping sounds.

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Phase III)

“No…stop it,” Andy gasped. The metal tube was brushing the shaft of his penis lightly and the tip more heavily with some things that made his dick even harder than it was. Worse, the tube was sucking him. He was going to ejaculate, he knew it, in this wretched container. The brushing sped up and just as he was a about to come, he felt a sharp painful jolt in his phallus. His dick lost some of its turgidity instantly.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (Phase III)

“That metal thing is stimulating him to ejaculate,” Wilson explained, “And the computer is monitoring him so that the moment he is about to ejaculate, the metal thing will emit a sharp electric shock…Get the picture?”

“Ow,” Wilks nodded.

“This is the part A of the last phase,” Wilson continued. “He is to be denied ejaculation for forty five minutes, though he doesn’t know that. Let’s see if he can hold out for that long.”

IHID control room: (PHASE III A – first 15 minutes)

The expression on Andy’s face was that of complete need and frustration.

Wilks could see his muscles straining to tear away from his bonds and obtain what was denied to him. Andy’s right hand was clenched into a fist, refusing even to touch the button cap.

“Bet you he won’t last the next fifteen minutes,” Wilson chuckled.

“Oh, what’s gonna happen next?” Wilks asked, not taking his eyes off the struggling soldier.

“Wait and see.” Fifteen minutes later, the machine at Andy’s soles which was quiet so far in Phase III rumbled into life. Andy started screaming and laughing as the machine tickled his soles with devilish skill.

“Hmm,” Wilson studied the monitor readouts, “He has tried to ejaculate and was denied something like once every minute. The rate will go up now, I dare say.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Phase III A – Last 15 minutes)

Dammit, he mentally sobbed when the machine electric shocked him again.

He had to cum. Let me cum dammit! Do anything you want to me later….Droplets of precum was being sucked up the tube but they gave him no relief.

To his horror, the probes from the metal box above his chest, and those from the table next to his armpits whirled into life again. Together they relentlessly tickled him into a state of unceasing laughing convulsions.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (Phase III B)

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wilson said aloud when the timer reached forty-five minutes. “Time to give your stud the thing he desires most in the world.” The computer whirred, and suddenly, Wilks saw a white fluid stream up through the tube. “There he goes.”

“That’s it?” Wilks asked, “The probes are still tickling him.” Despite Andy’s continued convulsive straining, Wilks could see a look of infinite relief on his face.

“Yeah, so they will continue,” Wilson replied, distractedly studying the monitor.

“I don’t understand.” Another white gush of semen was sucked up the tube.

“We are in phase IIIB now. The machine will keep making Andy ejaculate till the whole three hours is up, which is another thirty minutes.” Andy ejaculated again. “Hmm…that’s unusually fast. Better power down a little.” Wilson started typing.

Ten minutes later.

Andy was yelling “No no no no…” amidst his laughter.

Another white jet. Wilks could see him sobbing in pain now.

The computer suddenly emitted a long beep. “Ah finally,” Wilson smiled, “He aborted the program. Time he lasted – Two hours and forty-three minutes. You trained him well, Wilks. That’s quite a good time.”

“Thanks. Can I bring him back now?” Wilks asked.

“Yeah, send him round sometime tomorrow afternoon for his interview. So, do you still think the IHID is a piece of expensive junk?” Wilson asked slyly.

“It’s seems effective, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Well, after we finish with this batch of volunteers, you could give it a try. Not this program though, you already seen it. I will modify it, make it something different, unique for you.”

Wilks hesitated, then nodded.

“All right, if we have the time, Wilson.” He left to pick up his exhausted man.

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IHID = Induced Hypersensitivity Interrogation Device

Jasper Zilch

The author ties up the hunky 18 yo captain of his boarding school’s rugby team and subjects him to a tickle torture session to get even with him for making him clean up the tv room.
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Danny earns a final spanking from gay Coach Davis.
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Danny and Coach Davis Part 3 – Hotel Spanking
by Anonymous

Coach Davis was bent over at the […]

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