I held onto this pic for a couple years and figure I might as well post it. This is a “reboot” of another pic I drew a long while ago. I had aspirations of turning it into a serial but, well, life happens. It was recently used to illustrate a story on Gigglegasm so be sure to check that out if you’d like some reading material.
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Scientists reboot (male nudity)
- Thread starter gluestick
- Start date
Kalamos
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Ah, that's where I first saw it.
And I'm guessing I recall the original pic you've drawn inspiration from, unless memory is playing tricks on me.
Thanks for sharing!
I love placing a name on art, whenever I can.
🙂
...
As an aside: I'm supposed to keep my composure here, but I find it extremely erotic.
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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Very nice drawing. Thanks for sharing it here. 😀
FrenzyTickles
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That's definitely a "Gigglegasm!"
"Life happens," yes, and most here probably wish this would happen equally often.
Such colorful studies involving the effects of separate and combined stimulation are absolutely necessary and should be funded with tax dollars.
"Life happens," yes, and most here probably wish this would happen equally often.
Such colorful studies involving the effects of separate and combined stimulation are absolutely necessary and should be funded with tax dollars.
MTJpub
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gluestick,
Excellent work! Thank you for sharing it with Colin at GiggleGasm
Colin's story SCIENTISTS and this wonderful illustration compliment each other well.
Bravo!
Jim
MTJpub.com
Excellent work! Thank you for sharing it with Colin at GiggleGasm
Colin's story SCIENTISTS and this wonderful illustration compliment each other well.
Bravo!
Jim
MTJpub.com
X made a face as she slid Angela’s shoe off. “God, her feet stink, don’t they?”
Angela glared defiantly down at the blonde. “Fuck you,” she snapped. Even so, her toes curled slightly as the black pump came off, as though she were ashamed or fearful that her captor’s assessment was correct. Her toes gleamed under the single light-bulb that lit the storeroom; they looked cramped and sweaty.
Y laughed. “I know, right?” She was a tall redhead, of a higher rank than X in their little organization, and rather cooler in her manner. She had a way of looking at Kevin with a slight, barely visible smile, as though she could read his thoughts, and found them both disgusting and amusing. She was doing so now, and Kevin winced. He hadn’t been able to prevent himself from casting a longing glance at his colleague’s bared foot, just as he had on so many nights in the lab when Angela, working late, had kicked off her shoes, or let one dangle from a toe as she read through print-outs.
Y took the shoe from X. “Who would have thought such pretty little tootsies could be so rank? What do you think, Kevin?”
Kevin said nothing, averting his eyes and wrestling feebly with the cuffs that held his wrists to his chair. The women had forced him to strip at gunpoint when they’d entered the lab, laughing at his obvious excitement. They laughed at him again, cooing and licking their lips at his erection, more like bitchy sorority girls than the dangerous criminals he knew them to be.
“Aww, he’s so sweet! He’s not going to insult his girlfriend, even though he knows it’s true!”
“Leave him alone, you bitches!” Angela cried. “He has nothing to do with this!”
“Oh, doesn’t he?” This was Z, a slinky brunette who, eschewed the military-style uniform worn by the others in favor of the thigh-high boots and tight leather top of a professional dome. Even so, Kevin knew she had the highest rank of any of them, and was the most dangerous.
“Poor little deluded thing,” Z purred, seating herself next to Angela and stroking her hair. The young scientist growled and twisted her head away, as though the older woman’s hand was infected with some disgusting disease. “Your sweet colleague was the one who convinced us you two would be the weakest link in your operation, the surest way of obtaining the Babinski formula. You see, your loyal, stout-hearted Kevin is a foot-fetishist. He adores feet and I do believe he has a particular liking for yours…”
“What? Kevin, is this true? All this time we’ve worked together, you were looking at my feet?” Kevin closed his eyes miserably, trying to shut out Angela’s stricken, accusing face. X picked that moment to run a finger over Angela’s helpless soles, smiling widely when she broke into a squeal of laughter.
“It is true,” Z said. “Look at his little test-tube there…I do believe it’s quite hard.”
Kevin kept his eyes shut, but the sound of Angela’s tickled laughter had been enough to stiffen his cock to a full erection.
“Now,” Z smiled. “To business. You will give us the formula, Angela.”
“Are you crazy?” Angela snarled. “I don’t care what you do to me, I—hahahahaha! Stop that! C-cut it out!”
X had taken a white feather from her boot and was stroking its fine tip up and down Angela’s soles, sliding its edge between her wriggling toes.
“Too bad,” Z sighed, examining her nails. “Because I can see your tootsies are extremely ticklish! We may just tickle you to death…but at least Kevin will find it entertaining.”
“Oh! Oh god! Stop it! Hahahahahahahaa!”
“She’s so ticklish,” Y murmured, stroking Angela’s shoe as she eyed Kevin. The gentle motions of her hands on the gleaming patent leather weren’t lost on the helpless lab assistant. It was impossible not to imagine Y caressing his cock that way, in a delicious accompaniment to Angela’s torture.
It was all true; he was mad for women’s feet, and a large part of his crush on Angela centered on the occasional glimpses he’d caught of her luscious soles and toes. How often had he longed to experience something like this—Angela’s lovely feet at the mercy of cruel, beautiful women, intensely tickled with no hope of rescue?
“How about you, Kevin?” Z asked. “We know you have the formula as well. All you have to do is tell us and your lady love will be free to go. Of course, we’ll keep you as a hostage…we may even give you some tickle-torture, if you’re lucky. But Angela will always remember you as her knight in shining armor, the man who came to her rescue…”
“No! Kevin, don’t you dare—ahahahahaha!!”
“Then again, perhaps we need to appeal to something other than your morals. X…?”
The blonde lowered the feather. Kevin stared in anguish as Angela rubbed one sole against the other, sighing in relief as she rubbed away the ticklish sensation. .
“Wait…you mean you’re not going to tickle my feet? That’s the torture?”
“Clever darling,” Z purred. “That’s it exactly. But you’re no longer the one being tortured. Kevin is. How about it, loverboy? Just give us the formula, and we’ll tickle the hell out of Angela’s tootsies, while you watch the whole thing. Y here will even help, ah, ‘relieve’ you once a suitable interval has passed. But if you don’t…”
Grinning, X picked up Angela’s shoe and slid it back on her foot.
Kevin’s mouth went dry. The look of contempt on Angela’s face did nothing to wither his erection…the sight of her foot back in its shoe, however, softened him immediately.
“I’ll talk,” he whispered. The women laughed, and Angela squealed in outrage, but he said it again, and began reciting the formula before they even had time to get out their recording devices…or their feathers.
Yes, he would give them the formula, turn traitor in exchange for Angela’s torture. God help him…he just couldn’t help himself.
Angela glared defiantly down at the blonde. “Fuck you,” she snapped. Even so, her toes curled slightly as the black pump came off, as though she were ashamed or fearful that her captor’s assessment was correct. Her toes gleamed under the single light-bulb that lit the storeroom; they looked cramped and sweaty.
Y laughed. “I know, right?” She was a tall redhead, of a higher rank than X in their little organization, and rather cooler in her manner. She had a way of looking at Kevin with a slight, barely visible smile, as though she could read his thoughts, and found them both disgusting and amusing. She was doing so now, and Kevin winced. He hadn’t been able to prevent himself from casting a longing glance at his colleague’s bared foot, just as he had on so many nights in the lab when Angela, working late, had kicked off her shoes, or let one dangle from a toe as she read through print-outs.
Y took the shoe from X. “Who would have thought such pretty little tootsies could be so rank? What do you think, Kevin?”
Kevin said nothing, averting his eyes and wrestling feebly with the cuffs that held his wrists to his chair. The women had forced him to strip at gunpoint when they’d entered the lab, laughing at his obvious excitement. They laughed at him again, cooing and licking their lips at his erection, more like bitchy sorority girls than the dangerous criminals he knew them to be.
“Aww, he’s so sweet! He’s not going to insult his girlfriend, even though he knows it’s true!”
“Leave him alone, you bitches!” Angela cried. “He has nothing to do with this!”
“Oh, doesn’t he?” This was Z, a slinky brunette who, eschewed the military-style uniform worn by the others in favor of the thigh-high boots and tight leather top of a professional dome. Even so, Kevin knew she had the highest rank of any of them, and was the most dangerous.
“Poor little deluded thing,” Z purred, seating herself next to Angela and stroking her hair. The young scientist growled and twisted her head away, as though the older woman’s hand was infected with some disgusting disease. “Your sweet colleague was the one who convinced us you two would be the weakest link in your operation, the surest way of obtaining the Babinski formula. You see, your loyal, stout-hearted Kevin is a foot-fetishist. He adores feet and I do believe he has a particular liking for yours…”
“What? Kevin, is this true? All this time we’ve worked together, you were looking at my feet?” Kevin closed his eyes miserably, trying to shut out Angela’s stricken, accusing face. X picked that moment to run a finger over Angela’s helpless soles, smiling widely when she broke into a squeal of laughter.
“It is true,” Z said. “Look at his little test-tube there…I do believe it’s quite hard.”
Kevin kept his eyes shut, but the sound of Angela’s tickled laughter had been enough to stiffen his cock to a full erection.
“Now,” Z smiled. “To business. You will give us the formula, Angela.”
“Are you crazy?” Angela snarled. “I don’t care what you do to me, I—hahahahaha! Stop that! C-cut it out!”
X had taken a white feather from her boot and was stroking its fine tip up and down Angela’s soles, sliding its edge between her wriggling toes.
“Too bad,” Z sighed, examining her nails. “Because I can see your tootsies are extremely ticklish! We may just tickle you to death…but at least Kevin will find it entertaining.”
“Oh! Oh god! Stop it! Hahahahahahahaa!”
“She’s so ticklish,” Y murmured, stroking Angela’s shoe as she eyed Kevin. The gentle motions of her hands on the gleaming patent leather weren’t lost on the helpless lab assistant. It was impossible not to imagine Y caressing his cock that way, in a delicious accompaniment to Angela’s torture.
It was all true; he was mad for women’s feet, and a large part of his crush on Angela centered on the occasional glimpses he’d caught of her luscious soles and toes. How often had he longed to experience something like this—Angela’s lovely feet at the mercy of cruel, beautiful women, intensely tickled with no hope of rescue?
“How about you, Kevin?” Z asked. “We know you have the formula as well. All you have to do is tell us and your lady love will be free to go. Of course, we’ll keep you as a hostage…we may even give you some tickle-torture, if you’re lucky. But Angela will always remember you as her knight in shining armor, the man who came to her rescue…”
“No! Kevin, don’t you dare—ahahahahaha!!”
“Then again, perhaps we need to appeal to something other than your morals. X…?”
The blonde lowered the feather. Kevin stared in anguish as Angela rubbed one sole against the other, sighing in relief as she rubbed away the ticklish sensation. .
“Wait…you mean you’re not going to tickle my feet? That’s the torture?”
“Clever darling,” Z purred. “That’s it exactly. But you’re no longer the one being tortured. Kevin is. How about it, loverboy? Just give us the formula, and we’ll tickle the hell out of Angela’s tootsies, while you watch the whole thing. Y here will even help, ah, ‘relieve’ you once a suitable interval has passed. But if you don’t…”
Grinning, X picked up Angela’s shoe and slid it back on her foot.
Kevin’s mouth went dry. The look of contempt on Angela’s face did nothing to wither his erection…the sight of her foot back in its shoe, however, softened him immediately.
“I’ll talk,” he whispered. The women laughed, and Angela squealed in outrage, but he said it again, and began reciting the formula before they even had time to get out their recording devices…or their feathers.
Yes, he would give them the formula, turn traitor in exchange for Angela’s torture. God help him…he just couldn’t help himself.
