Somewhere in Random City……. The Imp woke up. By now he had found himself in this position enough to develop a routine. After waking up from whatever misstep he found himself in, he would take a moment to appreciate whatever peril or binding he found himself him and eventually would break free out of. This was new even for him though. Imp had found himself in some sort of purple seamless enclosure. He’s been tied down, strung up, roped off, and stuffed into sacks and crates, however this was one for the record books. The Hero found himself looking at his feet straight across from his face. Now the Imp was flexible but even he had limits. Not to mention his cock was flopping around on what was to the hero, the ground. Imp could consider himself flexible but he could never have contorted himself to take on a position like this. Imp shifted but something about the entire balance of his body felt off. It was something subtle, an uneven tensions between his limbs and chest. “Hey, you have any idea what happened?” Imp thought to himself. To be more specific, the Imp contacted his partner, the force that gave him and by extension the rest of his crew the power to go out into the City and fight crime. The Imp could deal with the expected sass and snark from the demon within. Instead he got the sensation of a great gulf between him and the other half of him. Sharp Imp teeth ground down and our Hero tried to recall the moments before his capture. He had been trying to follow a lead on a series of robberies that stumped the police. Various devices and mechanical parts had vanished without a lead. That called for a job from the defenders of Justice in Random City and it was probably the reason why he was here now. Radio static burst into Imp’s thoughts. The goat blinked, they hadn’t gotten their hands on portable radios yet and the Imp didn’t think whatever villain that had trapped him in an advanced setup like this would have allowed him to keep his phone. “Timmy ...Ambush…warehouse……..tracking…..pact…..connection ” That was all that the Imp could hear through the interference. If the Imp could not expect any help from his partner or pact mates this time, he would focus on getting out himself. The hero’s attention was taken up by his feet and his eyes widened. His feet were exposed out a circular ring with the insides glowing a color that made the Imp’s eyes want to roll to the back of his head. The more concerning bit was the toe rings that were present on his feet and now the Imp could feel them pulling, curling back his feet. Pores exposed themselves from the wall. “Oh, no” Imp said as miniature claws emerged and sets of rotating brushes popped out. The whirring of the brushes’ relentless motors took on a sinister tone. “No! ” The Imp thought “If they touch me I’m done for!” But Imp had not method to avoid the incoming assault. The devices diving into his feet. They danced and dug into his soles and around his toes. Their brushing and stroking was haphazard, yet the electric sensation made the Imp jump. Our hero grit his teeth harder but already he was getting excited, his cock stirring out on the floor. He tried to pull his feet back but his legs, wherever they were didn’t respond properly. Not that it mattered as Imp’s ankles didn’t seem like they could go any farther into the ring’s hollow. The goat squirmed, his feet trying to escape the fiery lines and ecstatic swirls around his soles, arch and toes. His head shook back and forth in his struggles. Yet those tickle devices never let up, laying waste to Imp’s composure as a hero. Our hero’s struggles were in vain. The more he thrashed, the more he exposed additional inches of his feet for the brushes and claws to explore. Their teasing was ceaseless, and the oddest thing was that Imp’s feet weren’t becoming numb. On the contrary, his feet were becoming more sensitive. Imp peeked back and his feet glistened. Of course he had to be dealing with of of those crazy obsessive mad science type. They never fought fair. Still the Imp could hold it in, only letting a few small guffaws when the machines reached a particular sensitive spot. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, Imp thought as he tried to curl his feet inward and clench his eyes shut. -------------------------------------------------------------------- A flat automated voice echoed out in the chamber “Preliminary Trial Completed, Initial Session Start.” Imp’s eyes flew open. This was only a warmup, how much worse could this get? The brushes retreated but the hands remained, They started off teasing him by dancing along the edges of his soles. A few claws went brushing against the tops of his feet. It was enough to make him squirm but no more chuckles escaped his mouth. This didn’t give Imp any comfort. It just meant that whatever villain that had captured him was engaged in a more meticulous examination of his feet compared to the haphazard ravaging from before. The brushes moved in. rotating scrubbers and rectangular bristles focusing in on the balls of his feet. Imp strained against the toe rings keeping his weaknesses open for the villain to exploit. A round of laughter began to churn from the bottom of his chest, but he could still hold it back. He wasn’t the Imp, Hero of Random City and survivor against a roster of villains obsessed with his feet for nothing. “Come on is that all you got?” He said, putting on an attitude against his captor. He regretted those words instantly as the tools intensified their assault. Now his foot pads and toes were fair game for those claws and brushes. Imp writhed as his paws were abused as only a heartless villain could do. He burst out laughing as they went scrubbing and rubbing down his feet, dancing a searing tango of tingling trauma. Soon enough the white surface of his feet took on a red hue. Imp’s breathing became haggard as he could only catch his breath in short pauses between his laughter. Eventually his feet had turned completely red from all the stroking and rubbing. Imp could feel his face burning and cheeks flushed. This setup had extracted and exploited each and every one of his most vulnerable spots directly on his soles and between his toes. Once they had done that, the Imp underwent a new level of hell. For now the hands and brushes varied their assaults.Imp flailed wildly. Tears dripped and flew as he shook his head everywhere to try and escape the hilarity. He was reduced to wild gasps and our hero could feel himself cracking. No demands were made of him so far by his captor and that made it more difficult to resist. How could he struggle against the forces of villainy with his heroic willpower if there wasn’t an evil scheme to hold out against? It was too much and he was at his limit. “Just stop it!” Imp finally screamed out. The machines stopped. ------------------------------------------------------------------- In the control room….. Unknown to the Imp, his torment was not unobserved. Hidden cameras within the walls captured every move and struggle the captive hero underwent. Far above in a hidden chamber was a single observer and the culprit for not only Imp’s torment but the recent spree of thefts. This surveillance chamber was a villain mastermind’s wet dream. Screens filled out the walls. Panels bore various switches and dials. On the largest screen in the room was a live feed to the inside of the Imp’s prison. Another diagram was in a window showing the expanse of Imp’s feet. It was colored red with the intensity logged to the sensitivity of his soles, as according to an attached key. It was information obtained after the long hours listed by a timer in the bottom of the screen. This villain had obtained a road map for Imp torment. But it wasn’t over yet. A finger swiped left on the screen and a diagram of Imp’s famous dick and balls appeared. It was time for the next step to begin. Meanwhile in the The Imp couldn’t tell how long he had been entrapped and tormented like this. Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, he had cried out for it to stop and the tickling did stop their tickling. Yet this didn’t come as a relief for Imp, instead dread flooded his stomach. Villains didn’t just stop their torment and gloating over the hero just cause the hero asked nicely. The break from the tickling however, the goat would take for granted. He took this moment to catch his breath.“Is it over?” He wondered, it was a desperate hope that the criminal was only interested in abusing his feet. The telltale hiss of more holes opening up in his prison drew the Imp’s face towards its direction. The sight of feathery tendrils emerging from holes near his cock confirmed the Imp’s fears. “Oh Snap!” Imp said, he tried to pull his cock back from whatever ring encircled it. Yet the principles of whatever mad science had him entrapped was sound. His cock was exposed to the non-existent mercy of the machines. The feathers curled and engaged in tickling his cock skin. The Imp’s dick twitched the cage of pleasure wrapping around his rod. Imp let out an unfamily friendly curse. Whatever he suffered before, it was nothing to compare to this new torture. Before the Imp had leaking but now his Imp cock was dripping. The feathers tickled, slipping swirls around his skin and causing tensing around his groin. Imp’s cock bobbed in irregular time. But soon mechanical hands seized the Imp’s maleness and held it steady. Feathers and fingers flicked themselves over his sensitive flesh. His feet continued to be tickled, and his muscles strained against his bindings as the Imp flailed, sending fluids everywhere. The Imp lost his composure. He couldn’t keep the appearance of heroic dignity with the full on erotic assault on his rod and feet. Brushes then sank down to tickle his balls. Now the Imp laughed uproariously, moaning out protests. He was humping, whether to dive in deeper or break away even the Imp couldn’t tell. He could feel his balls churn as the tortuous feathers grasped and slid around the girth of his cock. His tears made the room swim. Then the ultimate jolt of pleasure blossomed between his legs as the brushes moved on his cock and glans. He wrenched his legs. “Don’t put it there!” He heroically pleaded, but the machine had no mercy. With brushes directly on his glans, the Imp writhed helplessly. His butt clenched, knees spasmed and elbows wrenched in whatever space they were in. The Imp was so close, the floodgates of his lust was almost about to explode but that would also be his path to freedom. One long ruthless swirl under his cock crown broke the dam. The Imp’s white pillar erupted in all its glory. A fountain of cum met a spinning brush to spew sticky hot cream onto the Imp’s face and feet. A great cry of relief wrenched itself out of his throat. Great huffs of steam came out of the Imp’s mouth. “Break for one cycle.” The machine voice called. Yet for Imp, it would be just enough time to break free. Right about now. For the hero, nothing happened. No surge of power, change of determination, mystical warping of his bindings against demonic might. It was just plain old Imp left there while dripping and glistening with oil cum and tears. His white skin now flush and red, completely exposed and helpless before whatever would follow. ------------------------------------------------------ Imp just caught his breath when that automated voice yet again spoke. “Break over, Next session initiated.” Our hero turned his head to and fro trying to spot where the next assault would arrive from. Yet this monster had already played their cards in tickling and teasing his feet and cock. What else could they do to him? The ceiling’s surface rippled, which caught the Imp’s attention. He could see another ring, a much larger one was emerging from the purple curved material. Now that the Imp had a reference to orient himself compared to the wide expanse of purple, he could recognize the shape he was trapped in. This tickle chamber of torment was an egg shape. The hero couldn’t help but scoff, those mad science couldn’t ever be original could they? Inside the new ring that dropped from the ceiling seemed empty. Soon enough its hollow space began to swirl with a mind numbing color. It was an unearthly mix of red, blue and green melting and twisting around each other in chaotic patterns. Then Imp felt something shift in the balance of his body. His senses were all confused, his head and feet were opposite to each other and his cock was perpendicular to both of them. Imp now felt his entire center of gravity shift down to his cock as his nude torso dropped out of the ring of the ceiling. Imp took one look at this set up “How does that even work?” He scoffed, he’d seen demonic power and the terrible torments that mad chemistry could whip up, but this physics defying techno-sorcery was just ridiculous. His chest had slumped down from the gravity. The Imp’s torso hung down from attachments on his arms and legs located at his biceps and thighs. His limbs were pulled back taut as to push his chest forward, exposing his athletic build for further interrogation. Some round device capped them and possibly had stored his limbs somewhere else or moved them just like his cock and feet. Another round cup of mad science curved over his groin and answered how the Imp’s cock had been repositioned to be facing across his face. Our hero couldn’t adjust his torso from where it hung. How he was positioned gave his joints no leverage. Not to mention the way his body had been split up and reoriented confused his sense of direction. “Next Session Initiated.” The computerized voice said and then began to count down. “What now?” The Imp wondered and then he saw more holes open around the ring holding his chest. Out popped out more sinister devices of tickly mad science, brushes and feathers and claws mechanical hands and vibrating bead all glistening with that same concoction that kept his nerves as tender and sensitive as ever. The Imp gulped, could he even hold on to his dignity with this triple pronged siege? It was too late to steel himself, all the probes and equipment dive bombed his body and the screaming began. They brushed his nipples, one nub smothered in a rotating buzzwheel brush, his skin falling back into the bristles to numb his pec from the flexing it was inducing. The other had feather tips digging in, sending sparks dancing along his nipple and pec. ”No! you villain!” Imp squirmed out, his body twisting every which way to futilely evade this torment. Hands just then seized his butt, massaging and continuously causing them to spread and clench. Our hero tried to pivot his hips but those hands’ grips were firm. A high powered whirring came closer and then the Imp knew the pleasure of having his hole swirled over by another rotating brush, with soft merciless bristles oiling and swishing around his ring. His behind cheeks also was engaged in the fun as the hands mashed them into the sides of the device to be rubbed and polished. Imp screamed in ecstasy as he was made to cream himself yet again. “That’s.. That’s not fair! Let me out of here.” Imp shouted out between giggles and moans. The tickling over his feet and cock resumed. His plump balls were reacquainted with being brushed and fondled over. The Imp couldn’t shield any part of his body, entrapped and adjusted for maximum surface area for the machines to work over. Blooms of erotic delight blossomed over the fertile field of heroic flesh that was the Imp. The feathers curled, the brushes buried themselves deep, those hands pinched and flicked and those relentless claws spread skin taut and wide. It was too much, under this downpour of tickles and rubs and molesting, for anybody to not give into laughter, tears and cumming. Terrible words rang out. “All Out Milking Session Engaged, Time 24 Hours, 48 hours, indefinite time engaged. Maximum intensity set.” The robot said. “Irregular breaks at low power set.” Dread seized over our hero. “What?! No no no Stop!” But soon the Imp couldn’t even continue his protests against his treatment. His ability to speak was broken down and out from the relentless wave after wave of teasing, creaming and tickling. He was reduced to shrieks, broken syllables and endless short denials. Armpits were teased and brushed out. The Imp’s arms held firmly above his neck to allow more feathers and brushes to march lock step into the curve. His thighs delicately were wafted over by feathers and buzzing beads. Those hard muscles made tense by the teasing flexed in vain. His sides had lines of brushes and rotors running up and down making our hero strain to bend forward for relief. Yet that only made his belly and abdominals more defined for another set of brushes, claws and feathers to rub and tease and sent him back into tears of laughter. It led into him orgasming again to no avail and soon enough yet another spray of white laid itself on the purple walls. Mercy would not be found here. Villains could tire, machines would keep going for as long as their masters wanted. Imp was dragged down into an arbitrary cycle of tickling, creaming and resting. Sometimes the machines would interrupt themselves in one part of a cycle, leaving the Imp unable to fully recover or hanging on the edge of release begging for the teasing for just one more second. The machines began to alter their routine. Now the Imp’s nipples experienced a single brush and finger pinching in one cycle, another had one swirled around by a duo of brushes and the other licked by artificial tongue. His feet might oiled and licked all over, or maybe he would have them roasted over an entire array of brushes. Still the Imp’s cock was teased and played with, licked, stroked and pumped. Again and again, the Imp shot load after load. The insides became steamy with Imp cream. The Imp’s tender balls became even more sensitive with every release. Yet that pulsating heroic sack didn’t stop flowing. The Imp could only throw his head about into lust drunken surrender. One orgasm blended into another. His chest, feet and cock spasmed from the unceasing cycle of stimulation. Time began to fade into the fog of lust and tickling that was becoming Imp’s new reality. With toes spread and tears flowing, the Imp could only wordlessly shift between pleading for the teasing to stop or for it to not stop. The Imp drowned in a sea of tickly lust. His heroic defeated body painting the walls with cum, sweat and tears. Eventually the Imp stopped thinking, mind focused more on laughing and cumming instead. --------------------------------------------------- “Session in progress” Those were the cold words in green reflected against the glasses of a panda in a white lab coat. Meanwhile the continued taming of the Imp continued in multiple prospective views on the screens. A time listed the total of six hours and still continuing, with a recorded 20 orgasms and counting. The scientist tapped several keys and reviewed the figures. It has been a fruitful series of hours. Feet, chest and face of Random City’s most iconic defender were painted white with cum and tears leaving streaks down the walls and the Imp’s snout. The Imp was babbling and laughing, shifting between begging to be teased further and seeking forgiveness for being a naughty Imp that needed to be punished for thwarting villains. The chemical formula refined to maintain and increase sensitivity and lust was showing adequate results. Pretty soon the Imp would be as red as the hell his name sake were said to have come from. It was a stroke of fortune that the Imp had been caught unawareness and away from the partners that had proceeded to patrol with him. After stripping and entrapping the Imp within a network of ring portals. The experiment requested of him, this panda villain with vision could proceed. An analysis of the Imp’s body index of sensitivity and testing a hypothesis to neutralize the reported “Demon Mode”, both tests had produced results others would provide funding for a good long while. Just then warning sirens blared. The lab and command center had turned red under the flashing emergency lights. The panda turned away from the monitors showing Imp struggling to thrust into a whirlpool of feathers to a more mundane set of security camera feeds. A fox dressed in gray jungle style garb showed up in another screen. So it was one of the Imp’s partners who finally tracked him down. The villain switched off the warning sirens and dialed a number on his phone. Eventually somebody picked up the call. “I got the data you requested. Yes, an in depth profile of all the Imp’s weak spots. And the theory worked like a charm. You’ll get the files when the funds in the listed account.” More switches were flicked and commands sent out. The fox on the screen suddenly had to deal with activated defenses. Bullets of a sticky polymer began to blast themselves out of hidden torrents. “No worries.” The Panda said. “The information will still be good, after all the Imp’s lasted this long hasn’t he?” The villain ended the call. All the data obtained from this experiment were being rerouted to secure servers, along with… the research footage for peer review. Yet even if this ordeal would put the Imp out for a few weeks, hopefully. Still no sense in making it easy for the Imp to come back on the crime busting scene. Far below where the Imp was imprisoned in a giant pod with plugged into various other machines and looming equipment. Through a remote command, the vault door leading to the pod locked shut. From above cement was pouring down into the giant pit the vault was in. Eventually it would fill the pit and set, trapping the Imp in tickle torment for a long long time. Unless the Jungle Menace could reach him in time, the Imp would wallow in lust for who knows how long. The Imp’s partner will save him, probably. The scientist left, leaving the Imp in automated peril. It was time for the villain to make his escape during the rescue attempt. Every second passing bringing forth the reality of a sentence for Imp in tickle pod prison. Will the Imp escape his tickle purgatory? Is the Jungle Menace able to reach his friend in time? Who is this mysterious Panda villain? Find out same Imp Time, Same Imp Channel!