A ToonTown Tale: The Clips (Part 2 of 3)

Begin?  Had I known how the rest of this day would go (and had the ability to speak) I would have forgotten the case right then and there and told her so with the utmost sincerity.  Instead, I had to get there the hard way.  She knew it and deep down, I knew it too.  I was young and stubborn and some lessons just have to play out.

Without waiting for a response that would never come Miss V took a couple steps back and snapped her fingers.  A small podium shot up from the floor next to where she stood and one of her helpers, the blonde one, came and set a medium sized bag atop it.  The bag was purple and black and had a small clasp holding it shut at the top.  The bag itself was moving like it was alive, although looking back I don’t think it was the bag that was moving so much as it was its contents.  Everything at Miss V’s place seemed to have an adult theme/purpose with some sort of cartoon twist to it.

Miss V twisted open the clasp at the top and the bag opened up and emitted a soft glow of light.  There also seemed to be a low murmur of voices coming from inside the bag as well, it sounded like a hushed but excited audience before a performance.  She reached inside and spoke as she did, “Let’s start out slow.  How about some alligator clips?”  

She pulled out a handful of small, dark-green, plastic alligator clips that resembled actual alligators.  She held one up to my face to show me and I saw the little green alligator hungrily snap its jaws open and shut.  She smirked and proceeded to bring the alligator clip up to my right ear lobe.  I felt it clamp down with its jagged little plastic cartoon teeth. The clamp held its sharp pressure steady, acting more like an alligator clip than an actual alligator.  She did the same with my left ear lobe.  Her eyes wandered slowly down from my ears and she held one up to my right nipple.  As you can imagine, the sharp pressure was far more intense on my nipple than my ear lobe.  I drew a quick breath as it clamped down. She clipped one onto the left as well.  

She dropped the remaining small alligator clips into the bag.  “Those are a crowd favorite, we’ll just leave those on for a little bit.  You don’t mind do you?.......Didn’t think so.”  

She reached back into her bag and pulled out something about the size of her fist and held it up.  

“I like to call this guy, a hippo clip. Can you guess where he goes?”  

She held the purple plastic cartoon hippo up to my face and I could see that its mouth opened and shut hungrily just as the alligators did.  She smiled and slowly brought the hippo down below my waist.  I felt her carefully guide the head of my cock into its cool mouth then felt it snap shut.  Hippo’s don’t have sharp teeth like alligators do, they have a couple tusks yeah, but only molars otherwise.  So the pressure wasn’t terribly sharp, just uncomfortable, and when she released the hippo, it had considerable weight for such a small thing.

She gave the hippo’s butt a quick slap for good measure which served two functions.  First off, the hippo bit down harder which you can imagine how that felt, and secondly, it sent the hippo swinging back and forth in a comedic arc that didn’t seem to slow down as quickly as it would have in the real world.  The weight of the hippo pulled down on my cock as it swayed back and forth.

Back into the bag she went a third time, this time she pulled out a large grey clam.  She must have noticed the confused look on my face because she was eager to demonstrate this one as well.  She tickled the base of the shell near its hinge.  A tiny laugh came from inside the shell as it slowly opened up, wider and wider.  When she stopped tickling the clam, it slammed shut with a clap.  She must have seen the look of terrified understanding on my face because she let out a small giggle.  Something I had not yet seen her do.  She smiled back at me and nodded yes, confirming my suspicions.  

As she began to tickle the clam once again, I twisted and fought my restraints as hard as I could but cartoon or no, the straps that held me in place would not budge one bit.  She continued to tickle the clam as she brought it down and out of my line of sight.  I felt the back of my balls resting against the cool wet back half of the shell.  Without warning, the clam clapped shut tight on my balls, trapping them inside.  The force of the closure was intense, it felt like they had been placed on a table and had a small book dropped on them with nowhere to go.  What’s worse, is that the force of the impact didn’t let up much, so the pain was prolonged by the pressure of the shell.  She released the clam and now it hung between my legs, its weight added to the agony.

She grabbed a white and yellow cartoon clock out of the bag and set it down on the podium in front of the bag.  It looked to me like an egg timer where you twist the front dial to set the time and had two large bells on top like an old fashioned alarm clock.  Miss V twisted the dial one third of the way around until the arrow pointed to the twenty.  When she did, two long-lashed female eyes and a red lipsticked mouth appeared on the face of the timer.  The eyes looked me up and down, they examined me closely as the lips parted in a grin.  The front of the clock began to turn a hue of red as if it were blushing and it let out a soft feminine giggle.  

“Twenty minutes.  I will let you marinate a bit before we continue.  I’ll be back when the alarm goes off.  You just stay put and try not to tense up too much.  The clips have been known to clamp down harder when they get excited.”  

She flicked the large clam hanging from my balls as a silent reminder.  I could feel the pressure of all the clips pulsing on my ears, nipples, cock head and balls.  Miss V turned and disappeared into the darkness at the back of the room and just like that I was alone, helpless, and in great discomfort.  

There I stood pinned against this wall, as I reflected on the events that led me to this predicament.  The exaggerated tick-tock of the cartoon alarm clock and my own heavy breathing through my nose were the only sounds.  The clock batted her eyes at me again as if flirting with me which added to my vulnerability and mounting embarrassment.  I decided to close my eyes and meditate to try and take my mind off the situation and not make things worse by getting the clips excited.

A couple minutes had passed by when I heard a faint yawning sound.  I opened my eyes to see the lips wide open in a yawn and the eyelids blinking heavily on the clock.  Good, maybe the clock will fall asleep and stop staring at me like a piece of meat.  I closed my eyes once more for a couple more minutes.  I listened to my slow breathing to relax me and bring me to an almost sleep-like state.  The scene began to fade away and became quiet and that's when it struck me, I no longer heard the clock.  I quickly opened my eyes to see that the alarm clock was indeed fast asleep and the tick-tocking had stopped as well.  She was no longer counting down the time as the arrow stayed fixed midway between the 20 and the 10.

This cannot be happening, I told myself.  I cleared my throat to try and get it to wake up.  I then tried to yell at it, ‘Wake Up!’ But the thick cartoon leather strap across my mouth muffled my voice and seemed to reflexively pull tighter every time I tried.  As I yelled louder, the clips started to take notice as well and began to feed off my energy.  First it was the clips on my ears, probably due to their proximity to my mouth and throat making the noise. The jagged pressure on my earlobes got tighter.  Then the sharp pressure on my sensitive nipples tightened as well.  The four little alligators pulsed and titillated with energy.  

To make matters worse the clips in my southern hemisphere also caught on.  I could feel the tusks of the hippo’s mouth digging into the sides of my cock head, and its molars grinding into my frenulum under my cock’s head.  The large clam that held my balls firmly between its shell halves constricted, further increasing the pressure.  It must have also been taking on mass or swelling somehow because the downward pull on my balls increased as well.  

I had to get that darn clock to wake up or I am never getting out of here, even if it meant more pain.  Instead of yelling, this time I shrieked.  I made a shrill shrieking noise that seemed to radiate past the straps across my neck and throat.  The clock finally woke up. Thank heavens.  It yawned once more and batted its eyes at me in a flirtatious manner, then blushed reddish once again.  Then finally, it resumed ticking.  The clamps on my ears, nipples, cock head, and balls all reacted only mildly to the shriek, probably since it was so brief.  It didn’t matter though, they hadn’t let up from the last time they all tightened and/or increased in weight.  

The pain was now great and I was breathing harder.  The clock continued to stare at me hungrily but I didn’t care so long as it kept on ticking.  This time I did not close my eyes and try to meditate the pain away.  I kept my eyes fixed on the clock ensuring it stayed awake.  

Five more minutes ticked off the timer as I labored over every second.  The arrow on the clock was now directly over the 10. Staring at the clock seemed to work.  So long as I stared at it the clock stayed awake and happily tick-tocked as I remained helplessly locked in pain.  My balls ached as the clam’s pressure remained constant, its weight pulling down made it feel like my balls were halfway to my knees when in fact they were probably only stretched a couple inches.  

As the arrow on the clock made its way halfway between the 10 and 0 I had grown used to the pain, at least enough for my breathing to return to a semi-normal rate.  The clock didn’t like this one bit.  She winked at me when she playfully made another yawning sound, this time only pretending to fall asleep.  Pretend or not, the result was the same, the ticking had stopped.  I grunted once more but the clock pretended not to hear me with her eyes closed and remained silent.  

I decided to forego the fruitless yelling and went straight to my shrieking strategy.  I shrieked the same as before and felt all four zones worth of clips tighten in response, but the clock did not stir.  I shrieked again, this time louder and twice as long.  The clock continued not to be bothered.  The clips all tightened once more.  They hurt like crazy, I didn’t know how much more I could take.  The small alligators felt like they were close to drawing blood.  The hippo felt like its top and bottom teeth were going to start touching soon as it gnawed on my cock head. My balls were a mixture of crushing pressure and a downward pull that was testing my limits.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, I screeched as loud as I could for a solid three seconds.  The clock woke up at once, flashed me a cheeky smile and giggled at the sight of me.  The clips also responded in kind with its symphony of pain executed on my most sensitive of areas.  The clock began its final slow march down to zero.  I could barely hear or focus on the clock anymore.  My body screamed in agony.  How could these little ‘toon devices cause so much pain?  Drool began to dribble out of the corners of my mouth.  I panted heavily through my nose trying desperately to keep up with my breathing. 

**BRRRIIINNNNNNNG**.  The alarm clock’s two bells went off with the excitement that you’d expect from an obnoxious cartoon clock.  Miss V reappeared from the darkness at the back of the room and slowly made her way back over to me, still in no rush for time.  The clips of agony continued their assault, unaffected by the alarm clock’s blaring ringing.  Miss V stopped first at the clock and silenced it.  She stayed there a moment, stroked the back of the clock and exchanged words with it too quiet for me to hear.  She then made her way over to me.  She stood directly in front of me and drank up the scene, once again, seeming to get off from my pain.

“Sorry about Petunia.  She’s a bit of a naughty flirt.”  

Miss V’s words did not register much with me.  I was still too focused on the pain.  I continued to wince and breathe heavily through my nose.  Why isn’t she taking off these damn clips.

“The clock that is. I heard she gave you a little bonus time.”  I grunted softly to myself and Miss V continued on.  She reached forward and removed the two clips from my ears.  The pressure relief was immediate but the sharp pain from the small teeth still remained as a sharp sting.  Next were the clips on my nipples, first the right, then the left.  They hurt so badly even with the clips removed, I was almost sure they had drawn blood.  I wanted to look down so bad but my gaze was forcefully fixed forward.

Miss V walked back to her bag and dropped the four energetic green alligators back inside.  She walked back up to face me.  She took my ear lobes between her thumb and fore finger, massaging the bite marks away, helping blood return to the distressed lobe.  This felt very nice and provided some relief.  She did the same with my battered nipples.  Once again, this provided more relief but the two worst clips yet remained, the hippo and the clam, they continued their onslaught all the while my ears and nipples got better.

At last she let go of my nipples and grabbed onto the hippo clip hanging painfully from my cock.  She pulled and twisted the hippo in a playful manner.  Despite her cold and hard appearance she was a cartoon at heart and mesmerized by stretchy things.  She pulled the hippo down and released it a couple times, letting it spring back up.  When she had her fill of playing around she finally opened the hippo’s mouth and I felt my cock’s head slowly slide out of the jagged mouth.  I gasped through my nose as a wave of pain and cool air washed over me as the blood returned to one of my most sensitive of areas.  She massaged and tugged at the head as she had done before helping to hurry the recovery process.

Then she casually sauntered back to the bag and returned the hippo.  Now it was only the clam that remained which heavily hung between my legs, firmly crushing my testicles inside.  She smiled at me, “Should we leave this one on?” she joked.  “My clam could turn your fleshy danglers into two shiny little pearls.  Wouldn’t that be nice?  Would you like that?”

I groaned and tried to shake my head no but it was fixed in place by the straps.  All I could do was open and shut my hands, wiggle my toes and wince.  

“You sure?  We could finally give those balls of yours some real value…..aww, I suppose not.  You humans are so attached to your anatomy.  It’s annoying….and fun at the same time.”  

Miss V reached out and I assume began to tickle the clam at its hinge as she had previously demonstrated.  I could feel the pressure lightening up more and more, looser and looser until I felt fresh air waft across my scrotum.  For a few moments, the pain in my testicles got incredibly bad as the blood flow returned.  After the initial wave subsided a dull roar of pain remained, having them crushed for well over 20 minutes will have that effect on a pair of nuts.  

She lifted the clam up to my face as she continued to tickle it.  She didn’t stop tickling the clam until it was inches from my nose.  She pulled her tickling hand away and the clam clapped shut.  My whole body tensed in response, remembering the last time it clapped shut with my sensitive bits in between.  She smiled and walked back to the bag to return her clam.

With her clips now all safely returned to her bag of wonders she stopped and stared at me intensely.  “That was a good warm up.  Let’s see what’s next.”