The machine that tickles minds empty */tMan
He would make a pretty penny, doing this. The flier said 300$ an hour to test a sex toy, seemed great. Signature on the contract, with warning after warning, "Easy money", he thought.
The machine seemed pretty straight forward, barebones even. X shaped, a mechanical arm on each side, flimsy work. Normally, the arms of the machine would be equipped with sex toys but the students had changed it to tickling items, in a clever marketing ploy to present this as a challenge. You make it to the end, you get paid. All clothing, besides his underwear, was removed and he was strapped in.
Out popped the two arms, with what appeared to be toothbrushes for gorillas. Very wide and circular, they started their descent right on top of the boy's sides. He gasped a little, holding it in. What a nice little pattern they had, like car window-cleaners, sweep sweep sweeping the boy's sides allll the way to his belly.
His lower back thrusts upwards, trying to avoid the oversized toothbrushes. A gymnastic effort to avoid having his mouth opened by the giggles. In vain, it'd have been. Because one of them landing right on top of his belly button, where the hairs in the middle of the toothbrush descended inside.
He burst into laughter, manically squirming around, yet the toothbrush was calibrated perfectly, following his restrained movements. He thrusted forward, belly danced, swept the seat left-right with his ass, nothing worked. It. Just. Followed.
10 minutes later, these movements had thoroughly exhausted him. Just 10 minutes later. He lay there, near-motionless and having accepted his fate, giggling like a little schoolboy, the supervisor sporting a satisfied grin at the results.
After 20 more minutes of his bravado being shattered, the supervisor finally announced that they'd be moving on to the final part of the hardware test. The underwear's value was added onto the hour's rate and promptly scissored off, exposing his boypussy. Much to his shame, he seemed to be enjoying this. Immensely.
The mechanical appendages on the sides were deactivated. Instead came three more, from between his legs. They were positioned left, right and dead center, each holding a feather. Coming together, those feathers combined into an "H", the middle part protruding forward, like a spear. What was the purpose of that, he wondered.
"I'm terribly sorry, a little bit of manual work is required here. You see, they were meant to be 5 arms." Huh? Why? The supervisor scooted right over, knelt right next to his thigh and... spread his wet boypussy wide open.
He was so embarassed. The H was rapidly approaching and... in the moment of contact, he understood why it was an H. Two feathers on the side, to slide up and down the wide open insides of his sensitive pussy lips, one right in the middle for the gentlest, softest and most unbearably ticklish penetration.
Screaming in laughter, his newfound vigor almost propelling him off the device he squirmed and thrashed, desperate to escape the feathers. The tickly feathers. The tickly feathers that were slowly... that were slowly...
After a little orgasmic torture, he figured out a way to lessen their effect. Imperfect as they were, they didn't quite have the reach the final product intended. Were he to lean as far back as he could, with great strain, he'd only suffer the torture in the middle, feathering away at his ticklish little crevice.
The supervisor was puzzled. "Are you alright? Are the restraints a little too tight? We'll fix those soon, you only have 20 more minutes! There, there" gently caressing the boy's thighs in support. The boy was ticklish there, too ticklish. He jolted forward in a sharp exhale of laughter, right into the machine's orgasmic coochie coochie coos.
The staff member had no idea they were tickling the poor boy, and kept caressing his extremely ticklish thigh, repeating "there there, you're doing so well!" forcing him to squirm right into the machine that was giving him a ticklegasm.
He tried telling them, he really did, but all they heard was an unintelligible "STA-HAHAHA- PLEA- 'M GONNA-HAHAHAHA"
He couldn't last any longer. Cum dripping as the stiff feathers explored his boypussy walls, mercilessly feathering his ultra-sensitive flesh so wickedly exposed by the supervisor. The ticklegasm came, dripping all over the front of the machine and the feathers.
They were livid. They didn't think anyone could cum from... tickling. They very awkwardly tried to comfort him, rapidly increasing the "there there"s and again, forcing the poor boy right into the feathergasmic buzzsaw, now even more sensitive and incoherent, moaning and laughter the only things they could verbalize.
Ticklegasm after ticklegasm after ticklegasm, they certainly earned those 300$.
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