Bryce Hall’s Ticklish Execution

[tickling2death]

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Name - Bryce Hall
Occupation - TikToker & Influencer
Height - 5'9"
Weight - 150lbs
Shoe size - 10US
Current status - deceased

Log of last hours - day 365 of 365 - transcript from audio log 84

Transcript Begins:

Few people understand the pleasure of tickling, how such a simple sensation can be used to such extreme benefit—whether that benefit is interrogation, punishment, or, in this case, execution. All prisoners arrive blindfolded, gagged, and ear-muffed, to avoid knowing where they are taken. They could be across the country, or just two streets away from their own homes. My dungeon is under my garage, a two-level underground affair.

Bryce Hall’s crime was tax evasion. He had been hiding the money he made during his time as an influencer—he made millions by teasing people with his sexy body. A basic sentence of 4 years with a possible probationary period. However, some “glitches” in the system had resulted in his sentence being increased. Rather than a mere 4 year penalty, he was instead going to be sentenced to death. He was transported to me to carry out the sentence.

On what would be the last day of Bryce’s life, he was docile as usual. Almost a year of full-body tickling will do that to a man—that, and spending close to 12 hours the previous day having the sweaty, sensitive gaps between his long, slender toes cleaned with micro brushes—all while a milker and an electric toothbrush against his immobilized cockhead brought him to climax no less than 11 times.

That day, a gurney was fully prepared for Bryce’s muscular and ticklish body. He was anesthetized and then strapped him down by his forehead, fingers, wrists, forearms, elbows, biceps, chest, stomach, hips, thighs, knees, shins, and ankles. His smooth, pink bare feet were firmly secured in a stockade at the end of the gurney. All ten of his long, thin toes were stretched back and meticulously fastened to the top of the stockade with padded clamps. His toes were individually extended in different directions—he couldn’t move them at all. I ignored his grunts of pain as I made sure that there was more open spaces between each of his precious toes than usual.

I prepared his sexy feet by lathering every inch with several thick coats of baby oil, followed by a continuous jet of warm air—provided by a heater underneath his immobilized feet. Before Bryce was delivered to me, I made sure that his famous feet received a well-deserved pedicure; however, I wanted to make his ticklish nightmare ever more unbearable, so I made sure to sand down each of his toenails just enough so that I could lubricate, vibrate, and tickle his sensitive nail beds.

Meanwhile, my assistant worked to set up the brushes in his armpits and thighs, insert the rotating brush into his anus, and crank his mouth open with the jaw separator. My assistant would have the job of tickling the inside of Bryce’s mouth with various tickling tools, tickling his eyelids with feathers, and tickling his erect, lubed, and secured cock with an ergonomic hairbrush—Bryce’s slit would be held open for feathering and being flossed with an electric flosser too.

Once Bryce woke from the anesthesia, the terror in his eyes was palpable. His heartbeat raced on the monitor and his eyes began to water; however, in spite of this, precum began to leak from the slit of his cock.

He lasted well over 3 hours, the longest I've ever seen a man survive.

We were well into the third hour when it finally happened. My assistant was ravaging Bryce’s cockhead with tickling—holding opening his pre-cum soaked slit, and using electric flossers and small brushes like the kind to clean braces, to trace around and pass in and out of his slit. A vibrator was pulsing under his balls. I had 10 electric toothbrushes whirling around the tips of his toes and nail beds, causing his pink toes to tremble and turn bright red.

With both hands, I wrecked havoc on Bryce’s feet—using ergonomic hairbrushes to massacre his paralyzed arches. His heart rate finally began to climb higher and higher, indicating the time was close. His laughter, moans and grunts had long since given way too drooling and nothing I could understand. Glancing up, I saw his cock, purple and straining, and I decided, in my mercy, to end things well.

I told my assistant to continue tickling Bryce’s cock, and to focus his attention on lathering and tickling the quivering, pink lips of Bryce’s plump slit—which had been stretched out enough to allow for tickling tools to slide in and out of his urethra with ease. In the meantime, I added a few more vibrating toothbrushes to the roof of Bryce’s mouth, his taint, and his asshole. We're gonna let him cum once last time. For about 5 minutes, Bryce was spasming and laughing uncontrollably, his cock was pulsing wildly from being massacred by grooming brushes on the outside and electric flossers, bottle-brushes, and toothbrushes on the inside. Bryce’s eyes gradually rolled back into his head. Bryce’s cock continued to thicken and harden, his naked and violated boy toes began to swell and turn purple—his lubricated nail beds violently pulsated in sync with his cock. Drool collected in Bryce’s wide-open mouth and began too trickle onto the floor.

Suddenly, Bryce’s body violently jolted—letting out a final burst of garbled laughter and cum. Three white jets of turbid cum successively spattered from the screaming lips of Bryce’s cock. After the sound of the cascading fluid subsided, we could hear the drone of a flatlined heart monitor. Bryce’s muscular body was still flexed—even though his heart hand already stopped—and cum continued to trickle out of the wide-open slit in his rock-hard cock. Bryce’s eyes were rolled back in ecstasy, and his pearly white smile was fixed in an expression of masochistic pleasure.

End Transcript