[C] Clem's Tickle Imprisonment (Pixiv Fanbox)

A commission for ClmUbrn, featuring his boy Clem on display in a very intense tickle prison. I had as ton of fun with it, and I think I *finally* started to grasp the importance of contrast and planning your colours out from the beginning since I really liked the results ^^

I also wrote a super quick story to go along with it. Enjoy <3

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Clem has no idea how long it’s been since he was first strapped into this machine. His only sense of time passing was the slow but persistent accumulation of sweat and spunk pooling up and down his naked body. Not that he even had a moment to ponder it- his every waking second was spent in a ticklish hell, all of his most sensitive spots ravaged by the machine.

His exposed sides, armpits, and flanks being poked, his sensitive nipples and toe-tied feet being ruthlessly brushed, a fuzzy roller permanently stimulating the groove between his spread butt cheeks and dangling balls- even his hands were splayed wide using finger restraints, feathers gracefully darting back and forth on his exposed palms.

But surprisingly, despite the sophisticated efficiency of these tools, the worst wasn’t among them. In fact, the worst instrument of all was a single, innocuous feather.

That feather was currently teasing the underside of Clem’s shaft, rubbing up and down its length with an almost insulting lack of zeal. Every so often it would lazily but unpredictably swirl around, just briefly brushing his glans, causing a spike in the boy’s laughter. Despite all of the other device’s cruelties, this was the one Clem’s mind gravitated back to the most.

Even though this was only level 1 of 10 for the machine’s “sexual stimulation” setting, in tandem with the other overwhelming stimulation, this feather was enough to send the poor boy into spirals of repeated ticklegasms.

Each ejaculation had somehow felt stronger than the last, the machine strengthening its knowledge of what made its prisoner tick over time and learning every last detail to exploit. Each climax increased his entire body’s sensitivity ever so slightly, unlocking new avenues for the chair’s AI to test and abuse.

“NYOHAHAHAHA AHAHAHA N- NOOOAHAHAAH!”

As that relentless feather once again brushed his tip, Clem was pushed over the edge. With an agonized squeal, the blue-eyed boy’s head was thrown back, jets of semen spurting from his flailing shaft, its frenzied pendulations causing droplets of spunk to land across his chest and navel.

Behind the shuddering boy, a number ticked higher on a blue display screen.

“Total orgasms: 7322”.

Despite being out of view to him, it detailed every possible stat one would need to know about the lad’s predicament. This proved useful to the wardens and passers-by gawking at the ordeal through glass walls.

The leader of those onlookers, Clem’s kidnapper, smirked at the view. A man wealthy beyond sane, obsessed with amassing what he could not have. Finding, categorizing, and adding to his collection- even if that included human beings. Especially if they possessed magic like Clem.

The chairs had been designed as an attempt to extract that magic. Though just a prototype, its current capabilities had already empirically proved that the extreme tickle torture routine caused the victim to exude magic. With his brain too overloaded to stop it, and the magic itself already inherently making wielders dozens of times more sensitive than the average human, the captured boy had stood no chance.

“SOOHOHOHOHOHHOMEONE HAHAHAH H- HELP MEAHAHAHAHA!”

Of course, the villain currently had no method of storing the expelled magic, nor did he have a plan to utilize it.

The unyielding bondage, the ruthless and relentless overstimulation, the hours of screaming laughter, the unfathomably intense orgasms which felt like they lasted an eternity- all meaningless byproducts of an experiment that had been confirmed within hours of the boy’s arrival here, let alone the past 152 days.

It simply continued because nobody had bothered to stop it.

“GYAHAHAHAHAHA P PLEASE AHAHAHAHAHA N- NYOT THEREEEEEE!”

The feather on the boy’s privates had moved slightly, targeting his sensitive tip, still riding the unbearable high of the previous ejaculation. His entire body thrashed, and one would almost expect the metal rubber-lined restraints to snap from the force. But still he remained, immobilized as ever.

The man’s grin spread even further. This was just the first in the line of tickle devices. He’ll continue to develop and expand their capabilities, adding more selectable routines, more tickling instruments, more advanced biometric scanners. New shapes, new forms, new torments. Every squeal, every laugh, every orgasm- all of it a brick laid in the foundation of a more ticklish future.

The man whistled as he began to pace away, leaving the sight behind him. If the mood struck, he’d return to make use of the dildo gag kept neatly arranged beneath the stat display screen. His work had just begun- and his museum hungered for more displays.