MikeMenace
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2024
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SUFFERING FOR THE ART
by MikeMenace
"One more take, just to make sure," Mary says from behind the camera.
"The fuck do you need another take for!?" Tommy blurts out, still trying to catch his breath.
He's lying on the bed, his hands cuffed above his head to the metal bedframe, his legs spread and bound to the bed posts with bandages. His rockabilly pomp is a mess. The hospital pyjamas the girls had him wear cling to his sweaty body.
"I need to capture the desperation in your eyes."
"I don't look desperate enough!?"
"Don't be so dramatic. I KNOW you're enjoying yourself," Kitty Killspree cuts in.
"I'm not!"
But she's right, goddamn her. He is rock hard and throbbing, which she can no doubt feel, the way she's straddling his hips. And how could he not be? Three psychobilly chicks looking like pin-up models in their naughty nurse costumes spent the better part of the last 30 minutes tickling the hell out of him. And then there's the zombie make-up. Fuck, he loves the zombie make-up.
"Gotta suffer for the art," Rita Rebel says and gives his bare sole a quick tickle, making him hiss and jerk his foot, "Besides you wrote the song. Seems only fair that you get to star in the video."
He did write the song. Produced it too. Rusalka's Touch is a mighty fine psychobilly banger. But if he knew he would get tickle tortured for half an hour because Mary the merch girl thinks she's the next incarnation of Hitchcock, he would never have given the bloody song to Kitty. Unless she asked nicely.
At least Mia Mayhem has the common decency to look apologetic. Rita and Kitty were grinning ear to ear watching him flail around on the bed.
"Voodoo Vixens - Rusalka's Touch. Scene three. Take five," Mary announces.
Three pairs of hands pounce on Tommy and the makeshift studio drowns in laughter peppered with language that would make a sailor blush.
By take three the girls already knew his worst spots. So now they're just dismantling him. Kitty alternates between digging into his abs and poking his ribcage, making his body helplessly thrash and squirm. Rita is squeezing up and down his thighs, her fingers kneading his muscles in a way that makes him want to crawl out of his skin.
And then there's Mia. As a drummer, she can grow out her nails. And she grew them out sharp. And now these sharp nails are scribbling all over his soles. Tommy's feet are twisting and turning but no matter how he tries to get away, her nails always find his arches, his heels or his toes.
"I know your weakness," Kitty purrs teasingly and attacks his underarms. Her fingers, calloused from guitar playing, caress his armpits with devilish gentleness.
"NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" he wails. The bed shakes as he pulls at the handcuffs, frantically trying to lower his hands.
Rita and Kitty's amused giggles mix with his hysterical cackles.
And yet, even through the haze of the relentless tickle torture, he can feel the familiar tingling in his balls. All that thrashing and squirming is causing his cock to rub against Kitty's crotch in a way that's far from unpleasant. There's no mistake. An orgasm is rapidly building up in his loins and if they don't stop soon, he will cum in his pants in front of Kitty's bandmates.
"YOU GOTTA STOP!" he begs, but this only eggs them on.
Kitty's fingers all over his armpits, shoulders and neck. Rita's fingertips gently stroking the hollows behind his knees. Mia's nails dipping between his toes. They're killing him. But worst of all, his cock is about to surrender and blow.
He doesn't hear Mary yell "Cut!" He realizes the take is over when the tickling stops. He's panting. Fuck, he is so close to cumming. Then he sees the playful gleam in Kitty's eyes. She winks at him and dismounts his hips.
He breathes out a sigh of relief. And then he hears Rita snicker. He looks over at the girls. Rita is covering her face, trying to stifle her laughter, Mia is blushing and Kitty is looking proud of herself, a smug grin on her face.
And then it hits him. He looks down and sees the obscene tent in his pyjama pants. And the girls see it too. Great. He won't hear the end of it.
"No. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no," Mary's words bring him back to Earth.
"What's wrong?" Rita asks.
"It's all out of focus. We need another take..."
Tommy's eyes grow wide. But before he can protest Kitty saunters over to the bed and straddles his hips again, pressing his cock down against his abdomen. He feels the dreaded tingling spread all over his cock and balls and, with a tortured grunt, he explodes, flooding his pyjama pants with jizz.
Kitty gives him a puzzled look. Then her eyes light up in amusement. "I think Tommy had enough," she says.
"But the take..."
Rita, who also realizes what just happened, gently tugs at Mary's arm. "You can piece it together from what you already shot," she says and motions for Mia to follow her out the door.
"I'll untie him. You can make us some coffee," Kitty says.
"But the video... One more take..." Mary tries to argue as Rita and Mia usher her out of the room.
"Not a word. Please," Tommy says with a half-hearted scoff when they're gone.
Kitty leans over, gently kisses him, and starts unlocking the cuffs.
***
The footage of the Voodoo Vixens playing cuts away to Tommy's laughing face.
"Mary did a good job," Kitty says turning her eyes from the screen to Tommy.
Her words barely register. All he can focus on are her fingers gently stroking his cock through his jeans.
"Wanna celebrate in a more intimate setting?" Kitty asks.
He nods frantically.
"Good. Wouldn't want my man to have another accident," she says as she leads him by the hand to the bedroom.
"That was three weeks ago. When will you let it go?"
"Shhh," she whispers, "Less talking, more kissing."
THE END
by MikeMenace
"One more take, just to make sure," Mary says from behind the camera.
"The fuck do you need another take for!?" Tommy blurts out, still trying to catch his breath.
He's lying on the bed, his hands cuffed above his head to the metal bedframe, his legs spread and bound to the bed posts with bandages. His rockabilly pomp is a mess. The hospital pyjamas the girls had him wear cling to his sweaty body.
"I need to capture the desperation in your eyes."
"I don't look desperate enough!?"
"Don't be so dramatic. I KNOW you're enjoying yourself," Kitty Killspree cuts in.
"I'm not!"
But she's right, goddamn her. He is rock hard and throbbing, which she can no doubt feel, the way she's straddling his hips. And how could he not be? Three psychobilly chicks looking like pin-up models in their naughty nurse costumes spent the better part of the last 30 minutes tickling the hell out of him. And then there's the zombie make-up. Fuck, he loves the zombie make-up.
"Gotta suffer for the art," Rita Rebel says and gives his bare sole a quick tickle, making him hiss and jerk his foot, "Besides you wrote the song. Seems only fair that you get to star in the video."
He did write the song. Produced it too. Rusalka's Touch is a mighty fine psychobilly banger. But if he knew he would get tickle tortured for half an hour because Mary the merch girl thinks she's the next incarnation of Hitchcock, he would never have given the bloody song to Kitty. Unless she asked nicely.
At least Mia Mayhem has the common decency to look apologetic. Rita and Kitty were grinning ear to ear watching him flail around on the bed.
"Voodoo Vixens - Rusalka's Touch. Scene three. Take five," Mary announces.
Three pairs of hands pounce on Tommy and the makeshift studio drowns in laughter peppered with language that would make a sailor blush.
By take three the girls already knew his worst spots. So now they're just dismantling him. Kitty alternates between digging into his abs and poking his ribcage, making his body helplessly thrash and squirm. Rita is squeezing up and down his thighs, her fingers kneading his muscles in a way that makes him want to crawl out of his skin.
And then there's Mia. As a drummer, she can grow out her nails. And she grew them out sharp. And now these sharp nails are scribbling all over his soles. Tommy's feet are twisting and turning but no matter how he tries to get away, her nails always find his arches, his heels or his toes.
"I know your weakness," Kitty purrs teasingly and attacks his underarms. Her fingers, calloused from guitar playing, caress his armpits with devilish gentleness.
"NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" he wails. The bed shakes as he pulls at the handcuffs, frantically trying to lower his hands.
Rita and Kitty's amused giggles mix with his hysterical cackles.
And yet, even through the haze of the relentless tickle torture, he can feel the familiar tingling in his balls. All that thrashing and squirming is causing his cock to rub against Kitty's crotch in a way that's far from unpleasant. There's no mistake. An orgasm is rapidly building up in his loins and if they don't stop soon, he will cum in his pants in front of Kitty's bandmates.
"YOU GOTTA STOP!" he begs, but this only eggs them on.
Kitty's fingers all over his armpits, shoulders and neck. Rita's fingertips gently stroking the hollows behind his knees. Mia's nails dipping between his toes. They're killing him. But worst of all, his cock is about to surrender and blow.
He doesn't hear Mary yell "Cut!" He realizes the take is over when the tickling stops. He's panting. Fuck, he is so close to cumming. Then he sees the playful gleam in Kitty's eyes. She winks at him and dismounts his hips.
He breathes out a sigh of relief. And then he hears Rita snicker. He looks over at the girls. Rita is covering her face, trying to stifle her laughter, Mia is blushing and Kitty is looking proud of herself, a smug grin on her face.
And then it hits him. He looks down and sees the obscene tent in his pyjama pants. And the girls see it too. Great. He won't hear the end of it.
"No. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no," Mary's words bring him back to Earth.
"What's wrong?" Rita asks.
"It's all out of focus. We need another take..."
Tommy's eyes grow wide. But before he can protest Kitty saunters over to the bed and straddles his hips again, pressing his cock down against his abdomen. He feels the dreaded tingling spread all over his cock and balls and, with a tortured grunt, he explodes, flooding his pyjama pants with jizz.
Kitty gives him a puzzled look. Then her eyes light up in amusement. "I think Tommy had enough," she says.
"But the take..."
Rita, who also realizes what just happened, gently tugs at Mary's arm. "You can piece it together from what you already shot," she says and motions for Mia to follow her out the door.
"I'll untie him. You can make us some coffee," Kitty says.
"But the video... One more take..." Mary tries to argue as Rita and Mia usher her out of the room.
"Not a word. Please," Tommy says with a half-hearted scoff when they're gone.
Kitty leans over, gently kisses him, and starts unlocking the cuffs.
***
The footage of the Voodoo Vixens playing cuts away to Tommy's laughing face.
"Mary did a good job," Kitty says turning her eyes from the screen to Tommy.
Her words barely register. All he can focus on are her fingers gently stroking his cock through his jeans.
"Wanna celebrate in a more intimate setting?" Kitty asks.
He nods frantically.
"Good. Wouldn't want my man to have another accident," she says as she leads him by the hand to the bedroom.
"That was three weeks ago. When will you let it go?"
"Shhh," she whispers, "Less talking, more kissing."
THE END
