(DISCLAIMER: This is a dark and sadistic tickle/paw torture story involving Digimon. It is a prequel to my fic ‘Torment Dungeon: DIGI-006’ so if you have read that you know what to expect. There are heavy non-con situations, intense tickle torture and some bastinado/falaka. Proceed with caution.)
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Darkness was all that could be seen, and his own shouting was all that could be heard. A lonely Impmon was struggling and fighting against a group of human captors, who had placed a sack over his upper body to make him easier to restrain and transport. Normally not one to even go near any humans, despite spending a lot of time in the human world, this Impmon had regrettably let his guard down and was paying the price. He was caught completely unawares, unfairly snuck up on and taken at a moment’s notice. He considered himself a great fighter, but these humans seemed extremely strong and were dragging him to wherever they were going very easily. The frustrated Impmon spent about 30 minutes shouting muffled abuse through the sack before it was taken off, and his captors threw him hard onto the floor. Before the Digimon could get back up and attack, the group of humans each stood on one of his limbs, pinning him down to the cold stone floor.
“Who the hell are you guys!? You don’t know who ya messing with, roughhousing me like that!” The Impmon shouted angrily as he looked at his captors. There were five humans in total, only one of whom wasn’t currently standing on him. They all looked male and fairly young, around mid-20s, and most were dressed in the same bland-looking shirt and pants. The one who wasn’t restraining him, however, was wearing a full suit and jacket, looking very upper-class and posh. But Impmon didn’t really care what they looked like, he hated all humans equally. “I oughta set all of ya alight right now!”
“Calm down, now, little one…” The fully-suited man said in a soft tone, staring down at the pinned Digimon in front of him, “We have not brought you here to harm you. Simply to talk.”
“Are you guys the freaks who have been kidnapping all kinds of Digimon lately!?” Impmon referred to a recent spate of disappearances amongst the local monsters. Concerned tamers were on the lookout for at least 5 or 6 missing Digimon over the past couple of months. It was a conspiracy theory that another group of humans were responsible, but now Impmon knew his suspicions were true for sure. “Who are ya!? Tell me!”
“We may have been responsible for some disappearances, yes. But we will tell you all about that in the coming evening. For now, I am known as the Headmaster. Don’t concern yourself with the names of my henchmen.” The Headmaster looked down at the struggling Impmon as he spoke, “We have brought you here to ask for your assistance in our business. You may disagree with what we want you to do, but I assure you we can make it worth your while. All I ask is that you calm down so that there is no need for any more violence or restraint…”
“And why should I trust ya!?” The angry Impmon asked, “What have you been doing to those other Digimon?”
“I don’t expect trust. But I do expect you to listen. The fate of yourself and the other Digimon in this facility depends on your cooperation. The creatures have been undergoing preparation for their roles in our business.”
“What business? What preparation, huh?”
“Please be patient.” The Headmaster was clearly growing annoyed with the Impmon’s anger, “If you promise to cooperate, you will be unrestrained and allowed to see our facility for yourself. If you remain calm and professional then so will we.”
“Uh huh, and if I’m not patient and decide to kick your ass!? Then what?”
“...We have the capability to completely destroy the data of every Digimon here. If you attempt to use your powers at any point, we can kill you and all five other Digimon under our ownership. Do you want to be responsible for that?”
“...” Impmon was ready to talk back, but the unexpectedly threatening words of the Headmaster frightened him. Even if he would rather die than help a human, even if he never deals with anyone other than himself, he cannot bring himself to be responsible for the deaths of other Digimon. He had no choice but to co-operate, but he wasn’t going to suddenly become submissive to any human. When he began to speak again, he still sounded angry, but his voice had significantly reduced in volume and became calmer. “Why did you choose me, huh? If you’re doing somethin’ weird with all the rest then why haven’t you just dragged me in there with ‘em? Why not get some other human to help you?”
“We’ve been looking for an Impmon for quite some time, actually. To be the leader of all the other Digimon here. Because we know that it’s in the nature of your species to be evil and cruel.”
“Evil? I ain’t no hero but I’m not as low as a kidnapper!”
“But you get a sense of satisfaction from being mean. The streak of cruelty that all pranksters and bullies get when they undermine others. You think it’s all in good fun when you intimidate others, don’t you?”
“I mean…” Impmon thought about it a bit. It almost made him feel bad when it was put like that. Almost. But he did find it fun to play cruel pranks on other Digimon, especially those who he saw as lesser than him for being submissive to humans. “...it is fun! I ain’t hurting nobody, just making ‘em look stupid!”
“I’m not judging you, little Impmon. I think it’s perfect. The perfect personality to be the sadist digital master that we need.”
“W-what are you talking about? Master?”
“Do you agree to not give us any funny business so we can explain further?”
“...Ehhh...Go on then...I agree.” The Impmon reluctantly decided to remain calm and cooperate, at least for now. He was too curious to turn down any further explanation as to what this Headmaster was talking about.
“Good, follow me.” The lead human had all his henchmen step off the Impmon’s limbs, allowing him to get back on his feet and walk around freely. He looked back suspiciously at the henchmen who followed behind him, but he knew it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut and let the human do the talking for a bit. The Headmaster led them all out of that tiny room and down a metallic corridor, which was very chilly and dimly-lit. It was slightly intimidating, but it didn’t take them too long to reach a door and stop. “Now, behind this door you’ll get a closer look at what goes on in this facility. You may be alarmed when you first see it, but please remain calm. You are going to need the full picture to understand why, before you react instinctively and make a mistake. Understand?”
“Grr…” The Impmon growled slightly under his breath. He didn’t like the sound of where this was going, but he was at least prepared to stay calm for a bit whilst his morbid curiosity was piqued. “Sure...let me see…”
The door opened to reveal a fairly large but barren room. The walls were made of brown bricks with a floor made of stone. It looked very dungeon-like in appearance, for sure, but the Impmon wasn’t too concerned about the decor. What caught his attention the most were the two Digimon laying in the middle of the room. An Agumon and Gabumon were laying on their backs with their feet facing the left wall, both pairs held in the same set of wooden stocks. The stocks were flat on the floor but did have some chains connecting them to the ceiling. Their hands were tied with rope just above their heads to wooden posts sticking out of the ground. They were blindfolded and had leather muzzle gags covering their lower faces. Their ears looked like they were packed with some kind of thick cotton, preventing them from hearing anything.
“These two are currently in complete sensory deprivation. They won’t be able to hear you, and they have no idea we have just walked in.”
“Wh...wha…” The Impmon was taken aback by the sight. He wasn’t expecting to see other Digimon in such brutally vulnerable and exposed conditions. His instinct was to try and break them free in some way, but he knew that one wrong move could spell serious danger. He had to try and hold back his anger at their treatment, and hope that things don’t get any worse. “What are you doing to them…?”
“Let’s show you.” The Headmaster says, before turning to one of the henchmen. “Get them in position.”
One of the lackeys moves to the corner of the room, in which there is a control panel with a few illuminated buttons. Pressing in a blue button and holding it down, the chains connecting the stocks to the ceiling began to slowly move and retract. In a few seconds, the stocks that held the ankles of the Agumon and Gabumon begin to lift up in the air, alerting them for the first time to their impending treatment and causing them to begin squirming and whimpering anxiously. As they were in complete deprivation, the initial movement of the stocks was the first sign that they were in more danger, and would be enough to cause a panic for even the strongest Digimon. The foot stocks slowly move into tight position, eventually ending up pointing straight at the ceiling. The wide-soled bare feet of the Agumon and Gabumon are now completely vulnerable and lifted up to endure whatever may be inflicted on them. The Impmon watches with morbid curiosity, but he does not look forward to whatever may happen next.
“The exposure and restraint of the Digimon’s feet is absolutely vital to what we do here. The soles of the feet are targeted for their sensitivity...and aesthetic.” As he speaks, another button on the control panel is pressed which results in a whirring noise coming from the ceiling. Looking up, a large rotating roller can be seen. “Feet are very tender and soft parts of any Digimon. Through just the right stimulation on their soles and toes, they can suffer beautiful torture.”
“Torture!? What kind of torture is that thing gonna do?”
“You’re not familiar with tickle torture, I see… Lower the roller.” The rotating roller descends from the ceiling slowly, approaching the upturned soles of Agumon and Gabumon. As it got nearer, it was clear that the roller was covered in pointy brush bristles - thousands of them. It rotated at a slow and steady pace continuously. “That brush roller will soon make contact with those boys’ bare soles. Then you’ll see the magic happen.”
The two trapped mon curled their toes up tightly in preparation for the inevitable. This whole scenario was new to the Impmon, but the unfortunate pair in bondage had long been acquainted with their daily punishments. They’d accepted it by now - they just hated the waiting. The moment where they know that the roller will touch down on their soles at any moment. And when it does happen, the effect can be seen instantly.
The bristles keep up the same pace as they begin to stroke along the four smooth soles, the roller being big enough to just about graze their toes too. Their big, wide and pudgy feet began to squirm frantically, wiggling and paddling involuntarily, the sensations already too much. Even through their gags, their laughter filled the room effortlessly. The sounds of muffled, high-pitched laughter, whimpers and cries emphasised their struggle to cope with the brush roller being inflicted on their tender ticklish feet. Wiggling their thick, pudgy toes was their only source of relief, and it barely soothed the intense sensations. The wiggling toes at least gave them some freedom, whilst their soles were permanently pressing against the torturous tickle roller.
The Impmon watched on, intently staring at their struggle as he tried to further understand the cruel and unusual situation that his two fellow mon were trapped in. Tickle torture sounded pathetic...yet those two were clearly in distress, just from a couple of minutes of foot tickling.
“Even if Digimon are ticklish, they shouldn’t be struggling that much! None of us could be defeated by a damn brush!”
“You underestimate the power of the situation. Sneaking up on them and scrubbing a brush along their feet a few times would probably cause very little effect. But now their ankles are in tight bondage, they are helpless to protect or soothe their tender feet, and the brush roller is expertly stimulating every single inch of their ticklish nerves. There’s a difference between normal tickling and tickle torture. Think of it this way: Trying to attack a Digimon by tickling it in battle should cause the attacker to feel pathetic at their lacklustre method. But tickle torturing a Digimon rendered in it’s most helpless state...that’s what makes the Digimon themselves feel pathetic, at their own inability to cope with how it feels.”
Impmon wasn’t listening too much, but the words still got to him. These captors clearly knew something about how to exploit a Digimon’s weaknesses. A weakness that he never even figured Digimon would have. There was certainly something pathetic about seeing Agumon and Gabumon, two very strong and tough Digimon, squirm and laugh helplessly whilst unable to fight back. Their wide feet thrashed as much as they could in the stocks yet they still had no chance at getting away from the roller. Their feet will suffer until the humans say otherwise.
“We will leave them here like this for a bit. Come, let’s show you something a little meaner.”
Impmon wondered how much meaner it could get. Already he had been convinced that a very silly and stupid torture could prove dangerously effective on Digimon. As he left the room to the sound of the two scaly mon laughing though their muffled cries, he shuddered a little and tried to forget about what he just saw. But it was only a few steps before he was brought to another room, the door of which was already open. It wasn’t so much a room as another corridor, but it had a very large window in it, from which the next room along was visible.
“We’ll view this one from the window, as the subject involved hasn’t been blindfolded and we don’t want any of them to react to seeing another Digimon just yet. In this room is a session already in progress. This Gaomon here is being given one of our more cruel and painful punishments, although he will not be injured.”
Through the window, a Gaomon could be seen strapped to a chair, with his bandana and even his boxing gloves still on, albeit forced behind his back with chains. More chains wrapped around his ankles and held his extremely large furry feet onto a metal stand. The Digi-dog was gagged with a red ball, but he was still allowed to keep his vision, and his ears also seemed free of obstruction. He was not alone, and a human could be seen just in front of him, holding an implement that made the Impmon very anxiously curious - a multi-tailed flogger whip.
“What are you gonna do with that thing? That’s not gonna tickle!” Impmon enquires.
“This one isn’t going through tickle torture at the moment, although he was tickled quite extensively earlier this morning. We are targeting the soles of his feet in a much more direct way, by subjecting them to the punishment of bastinado.” The Headmaster had a sadist tone in his voice as he spoke. The Gaomon was always one of his favourites to abuse. “Foot whipping. His feet will receive the brute force of that whip until we believe he has had enough.”
“That’s...that’s sick!” Impmon protested, “You’re beating him?”
“Yes but please understand further. Look at his soles. He has received these beatings regularly for months now, but his soles remain strong and healthy. Completely unharmed. The whipping we administer is not strong enough to cause harm beyond a couple of seconds, it is perfectly engineered to make the puppy humble and humiliated, whilst giving him just about enough pain to keep him in line.”
Before the Impmon can enquire further, the torturer in the room lifts the whip up and sends it flying towards the Gaomon’s bound feet. The Impmon looked away, but through the wall he could hear the faint sound of the whip striking, plus a growled moan from the canine. Looking back, the Gaomon’s paws were squirming and wiggling fast, but there seemed to be no marks on them from the strike. The angry and resilient look on his face also remained the same, showing that he was tough enough to take the torture without too much distress. Before Impmon could look away again, the flogger soon made another strike, lashing the soft furry soles which promptly curled and paddled to soothe the sensation.
“The pain of the strike is very temporary.” The Headmaster explained, “It’s a harsh but very brief sting. Disappears in seconds with no lasting impact. Like a normal spanking, but on the feet rather than the backside. Of course, if we wanted to we could make the punishment much harder and more brutal for him, but right now, we simply want to tenderise his feet and make him submit. Brief, repetitive pain is perfect for that.”
As the Headmaster spoke, the Impmon felt like he had to avert his eyes once again. Yet, he didn’t. In fact his gaze was stuck firmly on the Gaomon’s trapped soles as they continued to receive the occasional strike of the flogger. The calm and resistant response of the victim helped the Impmon to not be too disturbed, but also there was something almost hypnotic about the way those large, wide soles squirmed and moved against the whipping. Tight curling and quick wiggling of the toes, as the feet moved from side to side and back and forth as if they were seeking some kind of solace. It was the same kind of movement every time, it had obviously become simply routine. Impmon knew full well that this was cruel torture on an unwilling Digimon, but some part of his mind spawned a thought: Maybe it isn’t so bad if it doesn’t cause lasting damage? Torture generally implies severe damage and horror, yet the ‘torture’ inflicted in these rooms causes barely a mark on their bodies. It was only a passing thought, but the Impmon certainly wasn’t unaware of the potential appeal in such punishments.
“Come, let’s show you the final example of our work.” The Headmaster ushered the Impmon out of the room just before another strike hit the Gaomon. He may not have explicitly enjoyed seeing the canine Digimon suffer in such a way, but the Impmon grew ever more curious as to what he had just witnessed. Still ever so intrigued as to why the tormentors only target the feet, and why the Gaomon suffering actual whipping seemed to cope easier than the pair being simply tickled earlier. The Gaomon seemed extremely resilient, so the tortured Digimon aren’t quite defeated yet, and the thought of a fellow mon staying strong in the face of pain made the Impmon feel happy. He wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t have minded watching the Gaomon’s torture for a little bit longer. Just to see how he fared. Yet he couldn’t think about the Gaomon for long, as he was soon ushered in front of the next room, the final one along that stretch of the corridor. The Headmaster spoke up before he opened the door. “There is a Gargomon and Growlmon in this room. Champion-level Digimon that we went to great effort to capture and break. They are the pride and joy of our work here, and are the most submissive things you could ever hope to play with.”
“Champion level? How did they not just kill you where you stood?” The Impmon asked, struggling to believe that a human could ever overpower such a digivolved creature.
“Careful capture followed by almost two years so far of treatment. Once they were in the cuffs and prevented from attacking, they were easy. Now, they’ve been our ‘guests’ for so long that they are part of the furniture.”
The door opened and indeed, the Impmon was immediately met with two incredibly powerful Champion-level Digimon, rendered completely immobile and helpless by the humans’ restraint devices. Growlmon usually looked fierce, but with his hands behind him and his big feet locked in cuffs, as well as being blinded and gagged, he looked rather pathetic now. Even more so for the Gargomon, who was in the exact same situation except with a cloth gag instead of the Growlmon’s leather muzzle gag. The Gargomon’s long ears still flowed freely, pretty much the only thing in this dungeon that seemed to be unrestricted. The Impmon stared at their massive feet trapped in the thick metal cuffs. Their toes wiggled very gently, and their soles looked so vulnerable and soft. As they were both still able to hear, they squirmed and seemed to loudly whimper as soon as the Impmon walked through the door.
“These two have been beautifully broken. They are tickle slaves, through and through, too sensitive to even feel a breeze on their big feet without letting a snicker or two out.” The headmaster speaks as he retrieves a long metal pinwheel from a nearby table, playing with it in his hands for a bit. “We learnt exactly what makes them tick, and we are currently in discussion as to their future. They are good for nothing except to be tickle toys now.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick…” Impmon commented. Whatever playful curiosity he had gained in the previous rooms was being diminished as the human continued to speak. He could tell from the way the two champions whimpered that what their torturer was saying is true. They looked completely broken with none of the defiance that the Gabumon, Agumon or Gaomon had shown. That’s not what Digimon were meant for. He wished he could get them out free, but at the same time, it was clear they were too far gone to return to a normal Digimon’s life anyway.
“Don’t feel sorry for them… they are content with their lives here. They have gotten used to the sensations, despite how much they continue to struggle against them…” With his smug, sadistic smirk rising, the headmaster casually paced over to where the two pairs of bound feet rested in the cuffs. Very slowly and carefully, he lifted the pinwheel up to the Gargomon’s toes, and began to run it down slowly across his big, wide sole. The noises that came from within his gag made Impmon shudder, the loudest and most desperate sounding giggles that were possible, as well as the sight of a few tears already forming in the Digimon’s eyes. The pointy and torturous pins of the wheel rolled down and prodded the unbelievably sensitive nerves within those gigantic feet, forcing them involuntarily to curl up, squirm and wriggle madly. Inadvertently, the Gargomon ended up squirming his soles further into the pinwheel, making things much worse for himself purely from his inability to squirm. A minute later, the same fate befell the Growlmon, who reacted in exactly the same manner - pure desperation, and clear suffering at the sensations forced upon his immensely ticklish feet.
The Impmon continued to stare as the pinwheel worked over those huge tender soles, and soon a few of the henchmen made things much worse for the suffering Digimon, as whichever feet were not being treated to the pinwheel were worked over with their fingers instead. The room completely filled with the sound of the creatures’ laughter, still extremely loud and clear even through their tight gags, and both of them were crying through the strength of their own reactions. With tons of fingers and a devious metal tool working them over, the two big, tough Digimon were stuck in their own little tickle hell for the time being. It all got a little bit too much for the increasingly-upset Impmon, who couldn’t bear to see his fellow digital monsters in such distress.
“Gahhh I can’t look at this stuff anymore!” The disturbed imp finally decided he’d had quite enough, and turned around to walk out of the door immediately. After he had left, the Headmaster paced quickly towards him to stop him.
“It’s fine if you don’t wish to view anymore, at least for today. But before you go wandering off, we must get down to business.” The henchmen all follow, closing the door behind them to finally silence the pathetic whimpers coming out of the two champions. “I can understand if you are unsettled, but I assure you, you will grow to enjoy our activities. You will be able to look after all of the creatures whilst still giving them their daily punishment routine. You will be the master of both their torture and their comfort.”
“WHAT!? You guys are SICK!!” Impmon shouted, returning to his initial severe anger. “Playing your freaky little torture games with innocent Digimon! How dare you even think of asking me to help you!”
“Now now, please calm down…” The Headmaster remained stoic and unfazed even when faced directly with the increasingly angry and violent Impmon, “Our activities are completely safe. As I explained earlier with the little Gaomon, even the more cruel and painful tortures deliver absolutely no physical marks or injury. Only psychological harm is done...and once it is done enough, then the Digimon themselves will no longer have any objection…”
“You’re makin’ me angry and you don’t wanna! I want all these Digimon released!” Impmon raged. “Digimon ain’t your little playthings to be treated like crap and abused!”
“You’re getting very angry…” The Headmaster gently placed his hand on the Impmon’s shoulder, to try and help comfort him a little. “You are reacting irrationally, you haven’t yet processed what you’ve seen…”
“GrrrrrPISS OFF!” With a fierce growl and quick movement, the Impmon bares his sharp teeth and chomps down hard on the hand that graced his shoulder. The Headmaster recoiled and shouted out in pain, and things got significantly more hectic in the corridor. All of the henchmen immediately descended upon the Impmon, grabbing him roughly and forcing him down onto the ground before he can attack any further. They placed him in the same position they first had him in, pinned down by all his limbs on the ground, except now much tighter and with both of his feet deliberately placed closer together. The Headmaster, whose hand was now bleeding, made a gesture at one of the henchmen who promptly ran into one of the other rooms. The furious Impmon fought as much as he could, putting up a good fight against the henchmen but still unable to move much beyond a lot of squirming and thrashing his head back and forth. “You’re all a bunch of goddamn criminals! I’ll have all of you dead in seconds at the first chance!”
“Calm DOWN!” The injured human raised his voice very suddenly, although Impmon didn’t seem bothered by that at all. “We were prepared for this outcome! We knew there was a good chance you’d get all angry and irrational and do something stupid… Now it’s just a case of teaching you about consequence…”
The other henchman soon returned, having retrieved the tool that the Headmaster required. A long riding crop, with a large leather strap at the end. Gently and slowly, the crop was touched against the Impmon’s feet.
“What the hell is that thing!? Get it off me!” Impmon continued to shout. He had no idea what a riding crop was, or what it was used for. The fact it was touching him was enough to make him angrier.
“This tool is for discipline. Just like the flogger that was being felt by the Gaomon earlier, it’s useful for blunt contact on nice, large feet like yours.” The leather strap of the crop caressed the tops, arches and soles of Impmon’s squirming feet, occasionally being run slowly across his toes and moving between them a bit. The Digimon’s large, purple and smooth feet paddled gently back and forth and his toes wiggled as the crop teased all over them. The leather felt nice when being stroked along his exposed feet, but that would soon end quickly and painfully. After a few light taps on them, the crop is pulled back and a loud smack is inflicted upon the large bare soles of the Impmon.
“Aaahhh! Prick!” The sudden and sharp pain subsided quickly but still resulted in a lovely moan, as well as the insult that only ensured that would be far from the only smack he received. Another two, one landing on each foot, soon followed, causing another groan and for the mon’s toes to writhe and wriggle at the sensation. “Cut it out! You’re only making me angrier!”
“Fair enough....” The headmaster smirked a little before hitting the Impmon’s soles with the crop a few more times in succession. The leather was fairly large but still quite small in comparison to the size of an Impmon’s huge and pudgy footpaws, so it was able to easily travel around different parts of the tender soles with each smack. The arches, heels and just underneath the toes were particularly targeted, and as the smacks continued, each one became harder. The Impmon’s groaning grew louder, as the pain became harder to cope with. It was only a slight pain and nothing compared to what he’d suffered in fights before, but the fact he was restrained and helpless, and the smacks of the leather were continuing to come down thick and fast on his big vulnerable feet, made him feel ashamed of himself for not being able to fight back. The torture wasn’t very painful, but it was making him a lot more humble than he usually is. He was being taken down a peg or two, which really, he had deserved for a long time.
The bastinado treatment with the riding crop continued for a little longer. Not too long, but just enough to give those big Impmon feet a good enough tenderising so that they were guaranteed to be sensitive. The crop eventually relented and the humans could all clearly see that it had affected the Digimon.
“Are you going to remain calm now, hmm? So we can talk like grown-ups without having to hurt you anymore?”
“I’m...I’m not going to ever help any of you...you’re all sick…” The Impmon replied, wiggling his toes to try and soothe the feeling in his feet.
“Then we shall need to give you some further treatment. Boys, take him into the utility room.”
The Impmon refrained from shouting any more abuse at his captors. He had been softened just enough by the crop to make him a little less frantic as he was suddenly grabbed by the henchmen and carried into a room a few doors down, although he still put up a decent physical struggle. The room he was taken to was very small and claustrophobic, barely enough room for three people to fit in, and it was very dilapidated. Drops of water seemed to be leaking from all over the ceiling. Matters were made worse when the henchmen forced Impmon onto the floor and immediately began to wrap rope around him.
“Put him into a hogtie.” The headmaster said, “Nice and tight, so he doesn’t get comfortable.”
Impmon wanted to continue fighting back but he knew that the henchmen were extremely strong, as well as the fact that he had been softened up by the beating. He was forced into submission, but he wanted to retaliate at the earliest opportunity. As he was pushed onto his stomach and had his wrists and ankles wrapped tightly in thick rope, he was thinking about how he would defeat the captors the second they let their guards down and let him free. Whenever that would be. In the meantime he just had to lie there and take it, soon ending up adorably hogtied on the floor. The rope was extremely tight and uncomfortable, angering him to the point of more growling, and the soles of his large feet were exposed pointing straight upwards.
“I’ll show all of ya!” Impmon shouted once the henchmen had stepped back. “Ya can’t keep me tied up like this forever, or any of those other Digimon!”
“We won’t, but we can if we wish.” replied the headmaster, who smiled a little at the cute sight of Impmon rocking around on the floor in his hogtie. He gestures at the henchmen standing around to leave the room, and they all file out and leave the headmaster alone with the helpless mon. “For you, however, you’ll be like that for just one night. Enough time to think over our little offer.”
“Where are they all goin’? They scared I’m gonna beat ‘em up too bad if I break out?”
“You’ll be less cocky in the morning, I assure you. In fact, I can very easily get a little of your cockiness out right now.” The human walked slowly behind Impmon and sat down on the floor just by his feet. His hands began to gently caress the hogtied paws, rubbing up and down them warmly. “You act tough but you reacted very well to the riding crop. That’s how I know that you’re gonna react just as nicely when I do this…”
“Mm...I-I told ya not to touch me!” The Impmon didn’t quite manage to suppress a nice moan as his soft soles were first rubbed, confirming the headmaster’s theory. The massage would have felt wonderful if it was happening in nicer circumstances. Whatever slight moans did come out of Impmon were more humiliated ones, as the footrub simply served to exploit his helplessness and have his body touched without consent. “Don’t try and win me over by being nice, I know what yer up to!”
“I’m not being nice, I’m feeling your feet for my own pleasure. Best to know the texture of them before I begin to tickle them…” With a single swipe of the headmaster’s finger, the sensation on Impmon’s sole turns from a relaxing rub to a sharp tickle, making his frantic wiggling begin again. “As I expected, so very sensitive…”
“Gah! Don’t ya dare!” The foot tickle made Impmon flustered, but he tried his best to convert his embarrassment into anger and retaliation. “All you’re gonna do is piss me off even more and you’re gonna regret it!”
“Sounds perfect, you are clearly adorable when you’re pissed off…” The human smirked as he placed his fingertips down onto Impmon’s bound soles and began to wiggle them gently in place. “I’m not gonna do anything as bad as what we’re doing to those other Digimon...yet...but I think it may help your decision if you are aware of what may await you with the wrong answer…”
Impmons are a naturally cocky, confident and smug Digimon species. They are born fighters, believe they can win any battle and are under the impression that their bodies are near-indestructible. This particular Impmon was no different, believing that no physical torture could faze him...until now. As he felt the headmaster’s fingers touch and stroke his hogtied bare soles, he came to the extremely reluctant realisation that he was not as strong as he had believed. The actual painful torture he had faced just a few minutes prior, as his feet were smacked with the leather, was more annoying and frustrating than anything else. It hurt him and made him angry, but it made his fighting spirit stronger and cemented his determination to fight back as soon as he could. But now, almost instantly, that determination had been shattered. He had never had any reason to think that his feet were as sensitive as they truly were, but he just couldn’t hold back his giggles as they were abused. The fingers moved slowly and gently around his large, wide soles, going all around every inch of them to find the weakest spots to exploit. Directly in the center of the soles seemed to be a particular hotspot for the loudest giggles, as did the area just below his pudgy toes.
“Gehehehehet offa meheheheh!!” The poor imp continued to shout and resist, even though both himself and his tickler had already figured out how weak and easily tormented he was. “Ihihih’ll kihihihck your ahahahahahsss!!!”
“You’re not gonna be kicking anything with feet this soft.” The human taunted, as his fingers got a little deeper and faster, sadistically stroking and tickling those big, wonderfully tender digi-feet. “I’m surprised you’re even able to walk on these. I’d hate to have to walk through long grass if I were you.”
The Impmon hadn’t registered it beforehand, but he did always have a weird thing about not liking to walk on grass if he could help it. He stuck to the paths. He just didn't quite realise the exact reason until now. Any further attempts to talk back to and insult the headmaster were all in vain, as the faster tickling meant his giggles had completely taken over and made it far too difficult to get any actual vocabulary out. The tickling didn’t last too long at all, but it felt much longer to the poor Digimon, who felt pathetically vulnerable and weak.
“That was just a little taste of what will happen to you if you continue to decline our offer. That was 15 minutes of tickle torture for your feet. Our prisoners endure twelve hours a day as an absolute minimum. You should bear that in mind when I ask you again tomorrow.”
“Y-you asshole!” The panting, tired Impmon spoke up after 30 seconds of regaining his composure. He felt defeated but that wasn’t going to stop his naturally resilient personality. “You got the upper hand this once but I can bounce back just as easily! You’d better hope I’m in a better mood by tomorrow!”
“If my suspicions are correct, you will be in a much more humble mood tomorrow. I imagine you are too busy shouting to notice right now, but there are two pipes just above you that you’ll become acquainted with over the next few hours.”
“Huh?” Impmon looked up and could indeed see a set of pipes going along the ceiling. Just as he was about to question what the master meant, a droplet of water fell from one of the pipes and landed directly in the middle of Impmon’s left sole. He flinched a little at the feeling, as it was ice cold. “What about them? You think shitty plumbing is gonna annoy me?”
“Yes, actually. You probably aren’t acquainted with Chinese water torture, which is typically inflicted on a person’s head for a long period. I have figured out that it works even more brilliantly if it’s the feet that receive the drips.”
“You’re gonn-Ah!” Impmon’s response is interrupted by another droplet of water, this time landing on his right foot. However, this time the water was extremely hot, like there was a leaking kettle dripping onto him. Despite his exclamation, he still responded defiantly. “You’re gonna torture me with raindrops?”
“Those pipes will be dripping water onto your feet all night long. You will be left in here for twelve hours before we come and untie you. In that time you will learn that something as simple as a little drop of water can become so..frustratingly torturous.” The headmaster had a smug smirk on his face again. Even though he would not be viewing the Impmon’s overnight torture, he knew exactly how water treatment could affect a particularly tender-footed captive. “I’ve made things a little more intense by having one pipe boiling hot and the other freezing cold. Just to make it even more uncomfortable for you.”
“You’re crazy, I’m not that weak!” The helpless mon growled at the captor, briefly pausing to flinch again as another icy cold drip hits his upturned foot. “Besides, I’ll be asleep!”
“I’ll be interested in seeing whether you manage to fall asleep with those drops torturing you.” Quickly, before the Digimon can talk back to him again, he pulls out a bright red ball gag from behind his back and forces it into the mon’s mouth. Strapping it around him almost painfully tightly, the Impmon was now even more vulnerable and much cuter. “But I won’t leave you any longer. Goodnight, little Impmon~”
“Mmmphh!!” Impmon shouts through his ball gag as his torturer walks out of the room, leaving him alone in the tight hogtie. The light is switched off, leaving him completely in the dark once the door is shut and locked. Just him on his lonesome, accompanied by the droplets of water that hit his soles every few seconds.
An hour or so passed with the Impmon closing his eyes and trying to relax. He was exhausted so needed some sleep anyway. But he just couldn’t. Something was stopping him from getting comfortable. It wasn’t the hogtie, as he had slept in plenty of uncomfortable positions before. It was those infuriating drops of water. He had gotten used to them after a few minutes, but the more and more he tried to relax and sleep, the more they played on his mind. The sensations of intense heat and freezing ice were very brief but very annoying and made his toes curl every single time. The droplets were unpredictable but generally fell around once every six seconds. Sometimes both a hot and cold droplet would fall at the same time, making all six of his toes curl up tight as he flinched.
As the hours passed on, the Impmon became more annoyed than he ever thought he could be from a bit of water. Each drop made his whole body flinch from both discomfort and pure anger, as the psychological effect of the water torture began to take hold. He was unable to squirm out of the way of the droplets, his large and wide feet could easily catch every single one no matter where they wiggled to. It got to a point, much quicker than he had anticipated, where he was desperate for the feeling of the water drips to stop. Just a few minutes for his poor feet to relax is all he would ask for, but he had no way of protecting his soles, and no idea how much longer he had to endure them for. He’d shout and swear if he could to get his frustration out, but the gag kept it all festering within him.
The droplets just kept on coming. For twelve whole hours his mind would be slowly driven crazy by the unique and simple torture. And he still had to figure out what he was going to do tomorrow morning when the humans came back.
It was going to be a very long night…
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“I can’t believe it...after two years of waiting, it’s finally been made!”
Returning back to his main quarters for the night, the Headmaster was extremely excited as a project he was working on for so long finally arrived in finished form within the dungeon. It was a pair of long rectangular boxes, much bigger than he was, plus two accompanying control panels. One of his henchmen was showing him around the inner workings.
“So, does it work exactly as I wanted?” The Headmaster asked.
“Exactly.” replied the henchman, “There’s literally thousands of little active fibres in there. That button panel gives you full control over how they work. Their power could literally be destructive.”
“Good. They shall be put into usage as soon as that little Impmon agrees to our deal…”
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TO BE CONTINUED
