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Day 1, Entry 5
4:00 PM-4:30 PM
I felt the need to record this little break of Sully's in a heartbeat. It has to be one of my favorite moments thus far; making me proud to be a captor of the poor little thing.
When his session finally ended, he was an absolute freeway car crash. Sweat dripped from his sticky, mangled hair. His feet and his face had a tug of war contest over how pink their blush could get. Tears of laughter finally stopped flowing down his face, but the streams were still visible, present to display the degree of torment he had suffered from.
Amazingly, as completely demolished as Sully was, he was still conscious and among the living. Care was taken to preserve his stamina for maximum levels of laughter. He spent every moment he could getting as much rest as possible. Clearly, although it appeared he had surrendered, he still had a tiny shred of toughness in his ability to take the torment applied to his soles.
It was time to execute the next part of the tease, though, and get Sully to provide something very valuable to us: his consent. Or perhaps I should write it out as "consent."
We all walked up to Sully and surrounded him, menacingly. His exhausted eyes trailed up to our sinister faces; clearly intimidated by us at this point. Seven hours since his day began, Sully had been through more than he probably ever thought he could handle. No matter what he thought he could handle in the most brutal situations, it probably never came close to a quarter of this. His predicament was just as every bit scary for him as it was delightful for us.
Moving on, I produced a tape recorder for Sully to see, and, as instructed, set the terms down for him. What I said could be boiled down to Sully providing us with a record of his so-called "consent" in exchange for him being released from captivity. As instructed, I had told him to reconsider the little question that I had whispered into his ear as his feet were being tickled.
The idea of avoiding any more agonizing tickle torture was the only tool we needed to get Sully to do whatever he wanted. Perhaps if this was a few hours ago, Sully would have the proper judgment to recognize the trap he was walking in. I don't blame him for being as desperate as he ended up being, however. Just by looking at his messy, sweaty hair at that moment, one could tell that it was only natural for Sully to want to escape.
And so, without doing much thinking, he gulped before speaking his words into the audio recorder.
"My name is Sullivan Blaze, and I consent to any and all torments that this facility carries out on me," he gave in.
I made sure to egg him on to cover for the long amount of time we were planning to keep him. When Sully said he "permitted" us to extend the project as long as necessary, I imagine he thought it was only to cover the seven hours he had been tormented. Once unbeknownst to him, it would lead to Sully saying "I consent to being held captive for months and months on end."
I could almost feel Sully's heart sinking when he let those words slip his mouth. However, he was exhausted, and still vulnerable in his bondage sack. It was to be expected that he would sing like a little parakeet.
After getting what we needed out of Sully, I gladly made the boy realize the mistake he made.
"Prepare him for the evening session," I found myself ordering with a wide smirk, making sure everybody- including Sully- heard me.
At which point, Sully was understandably horrified. Like a cornered animal, he began flailing about in his restraints. A new surge of energy birthed itself within Sully to try and make an attempt of an escape. Not that escaping would help Sully- I know at least two of us are able to chase after a frail toy like him.
Sully was carefully unstrapped and zipped out of the bondage setup he had been stuck in for a matter of hours by that point. He protested our decision out of absolute panic, apparently still in shock that the captors who had kidnapped him in the first place had also betrayed him.
The betrayal is quite mean; I think any of us would admit that. To all of us, however, it was simply another fun way to toy with our little prize. We simply cooed and teased at him, poking fun at how desperate he had gotten. How cute he was when he looked scared. How absolutely in for it he would be tonight.
A voice recording obviously wasn't going to be the be-all end-all recordings of Sully's phony consent. It was a start, though, and could be used to apply to our technologies specializing in creating fake documents of Sully's willingness to partake in his own torture. The one voice recording could be used to replicate his voice to say whatever we wanted it to say. We'll use it to send voicemails to his roommate, assuring that he is okay. His handwriting has finally been duplicated by our machines, allowing us to create plenty of phony signatures on consent forms. If anything, we didn't even need Sully to provide that phony consent; it was just a bonus to further despair him. It was still useful, of course, but the power of technology covers just about anything nowadays.
Nevertheless, Sully found himself being carried into another room with a crude bondage chair, obviously set up for exposing his upper body and feet. Tears of confusion and horror formed in the boy's eyes as he was dragged in and strapped onto the chair. Panicked protests made themselves loud and clear to no avail.
After we feed Sully with some pieces of chicken and some vegetables, it's nothing but absolute torture for the rest of the day. As I speak, I simply cannot wait to see what's in store for our little tickle pet!
A little bit of filler, but the transitions can be fun and evil in their own little way, too. He'll be getting rekt next time, though.
4:00 PM-4:30 PM
I felt the need to record this little break of Sully's in a heartbeat. It has to be one of my favorite moments thus far; making me proud to be a captor of the poor little thing.
When his session finally ended, he was an absolute freeway car crash. Sweat dripped from his sticky, mangled hair. His feet and his face had a tug of war contest over how pink their blush could get. Tears of laughter finally stopped flowing down his face, but the streams were still visible, present to display the degree of torment he had suffered from.
Amazingly, as completely demolished as Sully was, he was still conscious and among the living. Care was taken to preserve his stamina for maximum levels of laughter. He spent every moment he could getting as much rest as possible. Clearly, although it appeared he had surrendered, he still had a tiny shred of toughness in his ability to take the torment applied to his soles.
It was time to execute the next part of the tease, though, and get Sully to provide something very valuable to us: his consent. Or perhaps I should write it out as "consent."
We all walked up to Sully and surrounded him, menacingly. His exhausted eyes trailed up to our sinister faces; clearly intimidated by us at this point. Seven hours since his day began, Sully had been through more than he probably ever thought he could handle. No matter what he thought he could handle in the most brutal situations, it probably never came close to a quarter of this. His predicament was just as every bit scary for him as it was delightful for us.
Moving on, I produced a tape recorder for Sully to see, and, as instructed, set the terms down for him. What I said could be boiled down to Sully providing us with a record of his so-called "consent" in exchange for him being released from captivity. As instructed, I had told him to reconsider the little question that I had whispered into his ear as his feet were being tickled.
The idea of avoiding any more agonizing tickle torture was the only tool we needed to get Sully to do whatever he wanted. Perhaps if this was a few hours ago, Sully would have the proper judgment to recognize the trap he was walking in. I don't blame him for being as desperate as he ended up being, however. Just by looking at his messy, sweaty hair at that moment, one could tell that it was only natural for Sully to want to escape.
And so, without doing much thinking, he gulped before speaking his words into the audio recorder.
"My name is Sullivan Blaze, and I consent to any and all torments that this facility carries out on me," he gave in.
I made sure to egg him on to cover for the long amount of time we were planning to keep him. When Sully said he "permitted" us to extend the project as long as necessary, I imagine he thought it was only to cover the seven hours he had been tormented. Once unbeknownst to him, it would lead to Sully saying "I consent to being held captive for months and months on end."
I could almost feel Sully's heart sinking when he let those words slip his mouth. However, he was exhausted, and still vulnerable in his bondage sack. It was to be expected that he would sing like a little parakeet.
After getting what we needed out of Sully, I gladly made the boy realize the mistake he made.
"Prepare him for the evening session," I found myself ordering with a wide smirk, making sure everybody- including Sully- heard me.
At which point, Sully was understandably horrified. Like a cornered animal, he began flailing about in his restraints. A new surge of energy birthed itself within Sully to try and make an attempt of an escape. Not that escaping would help Sully- I know at least two of us are able to chase after a frail toy like him.
Sully was carefully unstrapped and zipped out of the bondage setup he had been stuck in for a matter of hours by that point. He protested our decision out of absolute panic, apparently still in shock that the captors who had kidnapped him in the first place had also betrayed him.
The betrayal is quite mean; I think any of us would admit that. To all of us, however, it was simply another fun way to toy with our little prize. We simply cooed and teased at him, poking fun at how desperate he had gotten. How cute he was when he looked scared. How absolutely in for it he would be tonight.
A voice recording obviously wasn't going to be the be-all end-all recordings of Sully's phony consent. It was a start, though, and could be used to apply to our technologies specializing in creating fake documents of Sully's willingness to partake in his own torture. The one voice recording could be used to replicate his voice to say whatever we wanted it to say. We'll use it to send voicemails to his roommate, assuring that he is okay. His handwriting has finally been duplicated by our machines, allowing us to create plenty of phony signatures on consent forms. If anything, we didn't even need Sully to provide that phony consent; it was just a bonus to further despair him. It was still useful, of course, but the power of technology covers just about anything nowadays.
Nevertheless, Sully found himself being carried into another room with a crude bondage chair, obviously set up for exposing his upper body and feet. Tears of confusion and horror formed in the boy's eyes as he was dragged in and strapped onto the chair. Panicked protests made themselves loud and clear to no avail.
After we feed Sully with some pieces of chicken and some vegetables, it's nothing but absolute torture for the rest of the day. As I speak, I simply cannot wait to see what's in store for our little tickle pet!
A little bit of filler, but the transitions can be fun and evil in their own little way, too. He'll be getting rekt next time, though.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Fetish Other
Species Human
Size 1280 x 747px
File Size 187.4 kB
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