Jonny asks for help
Ragdoll, Tickling
This is a custom video so some changes may have been made to the script below in the final product. Jonny does get hard from Dr. Smith stroking his dick on the cross. Includes tickling and spanking.
Purchase here:
https://www.watchfighters.com/posts/jonny_tickle_spank-vinqjirg
The All-American Trophy
Jonny, the cocky young American soccer star, received a very exclusive invitation.
A private message from Dr. Smith — presented as a discreet sports performance consultant — offered him a one-night “elite private recovery session” at his home. Cryo therapy, custom massage, and advanced optimization techniques. A generous cash appearance fee was included. Jonny accepted immediately.
He showed up that evening at Dr. Smith’s nice, secluded two-story house, still wearing his team training gear.
Dr. Smith greeted him at the door with a polite smile.
“Jonny. Come in. We’ve been looking forward to this.”
The moment the door closed, Dr. Smith clamped a chloroform-soaked cloth firmly over Jonny’s mouth and nose from behind. Jonny bucked and struggled hard, but Dr. Smith held on until the young athlete went limp.
—
Waking Up
Jonny woke up on the large guest bed, head fuzzy and heavy. The first thing he registered was the massive, uncomfortable bulge of a sweaty sock packed deep in his mouth and the tight, smooth layers of silver duct tape wrapped around his head, sealing everything in. He tried to shout and immediately realized he was already heavily gagged.
His wrists were locked behind his back in heavy steel handcuffs. His ankles were taped tightly together. He was wearing nothing but a tight pair of white cotton bikini briefs.
Dr. Smith sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting possessively on Jonny’s thigh, gently stroking the front of the briefs.
“Welcome back, Jonny,” he said calmly. “You walked right into my house. A very particular collector — Mr. Latcher — has taken a strong interest in you. He wants you properly broken in before his collection team arrives in a couple of days.”
—
Breaking Down
Dr. Smith hauled the furious, gagged athlete downstairs and bent him forward over the back of the large leather sofa, forcing his cuffed wrists high up his back and thrusting his plump, athletic ass out.
The next two days were slow, methodical, and merciless:
Dr. Smith started with firm, deliberate open-handed slaps — **SMACK… SMACK… SMACK** — each loud crack echoing through the living room. He alternated cheeks, sometimes focusing on the sensitive lower curve where the white briefs rode up, making Jonny’s firm ass bounce and ripple beautifully with every impact. The skin gradually turned from pink to a deep, glowing red as the spanking continued for long stretches.
Between spankings, Dr. Smith’s hands became possessive and thorough. He squeezed big handfuls of the sore, warm flesh, digging his fingers in deep, spreading Jonny’s cheeks wide through the thin cotton so the briefs wedged painfully deeper between them. He snapped the waistband repeatedly, then palmed and massaged the growing bulge in the front of the briefs, rubbing slow circles over the head and shaft while whispering taunts about how easily the soccer star was getting hard.
Dr. Smith’s fingers turned cruelly playful — skittering along Jonny’s ribs, under his arms, down the sides of his torso, and especially along the hypersensitive backs of his taped thighs and the crease where ass met leg. Jonny jerked and bucked violently, muffled hysterical laughter mixing with his angry screams as the tickling forced uncontrollable spasms through his powerful body. His plump ass jiggled and clenched wildly with every helpless twitch.
Dr. Smith spent long, torturous sessions stroking him through the thin white cotton — slow, perfect up-and-down movements, thumb circling the sensitive head, occasionally squeezing the shaft firmly. He brought Jonny right to the trembling edge again and again, feeling the cock throb desperately in the briefs, only to stop completely the moment the young man started to tip over. The denial was agonizing.
Every time Jonny’s anger flared and he fought harder, Dr. Smith clamped his hand tightly over the young man’s taped nose and mouth, creating a perfect seal. He held it for twenty, thirty, sometimes forty-five long seconds while continuing to grope or edge him, feeling Jonny panic and buck wildly. Only when the struggles started to weaken would he lift his hand just enough for three desperate, wheezing breaths through the nose before sealing him again. “Angry boys don’t get to breathe,” he would say coldly during the holds.
Dr. Smith kept this cruel, rotating cycle going for hours each day in the living room — spanking the ass raw, groping and spreading, tickling until Jonny was hysterical, edging him mercilessly through the briefs, and smothering him with every defiant outburst.
By the end of the second day, Jonny was a trembling, sweat-soaked, broken mess — his cock aching, his ass glowing and sore, his defiance badly cracked.
—
Moving Out
On the evening of the second day, Dr. Smith dragged the exhausted soccer stud into the attached garage.
He strung Jonny up by the handcuffs from an overhead beam — arms stretched painfully high, toes barely touching the cold concrete floor, body fully on display in nothing but the tight white bikini briefs. His ass was still glowing pink from two days of relentless punishment.
Jonny exploded with renewed rage — shaking violently in the restraints, screaming muffled curses and threats into the gag, his whole body thrashing and twisting as he hung there helplessly. His plump ass flexed and jiggled with every furious movement, eyes blazing with humiliated fury above the tape.
Dr. Smith pulled back slightly, still holding Jonny’s face, and smiled.
“That’s the spirit. Keep that fire for Mr. Latcher.”
He turned off the lights and left the garage.
Jonny hung alone in the darkness — strung up by his wrists, aching, furious, and completely helpless — angrily shaking and raging into the thick tape gag all night, waiting for collection.
