knismo-freakazoid

[knismo-freakazoid]

wow i’m so glad to be with someone who makes me feel heard and loved and listens to me when i talk and cares for me and doesn’t disregard my feelings and just tries!!!!

[knismo-freakazoid]

"tumblr humor is only funny to tumblr users" NOT true. those bitches on pinterest love us.

[knismo-freakazoid]

Every pillow princess with a high sex drive deserves a free use service top

[knismo-freakazoid]

being called silly in general is super cute to meee like…you think so..?? 🤭 like yeah maybe it’s a littleeeee flustering but it’s so cute to me

⊹₊⟡⋆ something about “silly girl” just hits!!!! like yes!!!!!!! say it again!!!!!!!! ⊹₊⟡⋆

[knismo-freakazoid]

"see? isn't everything better when you let mommy take care of you?" oh okay /////

[knismo-freakazoid]

hii pookie :3 you get 2 days worth of my scientists “research” cause boredom and i felt nice :D anywayyy…here!!!

Confidential Experiment Log – Dr. Evelyn Rhys

Session 3 – Subject 42B

Sensory Manipulation & Neurological Response Study

Live Entry: Notes & Thoughts

They’re trembling again.

Muscle tremors before stimulus — anticipatory. Fascinating.

I’ve been working with them for three sessions now. Same straps. Same table. But they’re more sensitive each time, like their body’s remembering..like their nerves are becoming conditioned. Is that even possible? Could repeated tactile exposure be heightening responsiveness? Or is it something else?

Psychological vulnerability, maybe. Emotional surrender.

God, I love a compliant subject.

“Breathe for me,” I murmur as I circle the table, my boots clicking slowly, deliberately. They flinch at the sound. Their senses are primed, overstimulated, and I haven’t touched them yet. “You remember the procedure?”

They nod, nervous, already flushed. I can practically hear their heart pounding from here.

“You’ll respond verbally, scale one to ten,” I remind them, sliding on my gloves with a snap. “No dishonesty. No self-censorship. Your body is telling me the truth either way.”

They gulp. “Yes, Dr. Rhys…”

God, their voice is so shaky.

I glide two fingers along their ribcage.

Their breath hitches.

Immediate reaction — sympathetic nervous system engaging. Fight or flight, but they’re tied down. So their only outlet is laughter.

A giggle bursts out before they can stop it.

“Already?” I murmur, pleased. “You’re incredibly susceptible to touch. But why? Have your neurons always been like this? Or is this a result of the restraint? The loss of control?”

I dig in just a little deeper with my fingertips and they squeal.

“A-ahhahh! S-six—no—seven!”

I hum. “Inconsistent again. Let’s get a more reliable reading.”

They try to stifle a laugh — defensive. Hmm.

I swap in the brush. Soft bristles. Non-threatening at first glance. But they’re squirming already.

I trail it along their inner thigh, watching how their legs twitch involuntarily.

God, that reaction. Full body. Overwhelming. Beautiful.

“This area’s highly sensitive,” I whisper, more to myself than them. “Does that mean there’s a greater density of nerve endings here? Or is it the psychological proximity —intimacy, embarrassment, shame…?”

I stroke again.

They choke out a whimpering laugh, high and breathless. “P-please—!”

“Please what?” I ask absently, not stopping. “Why do you react more here than anywhere else? Is it the softness of the brush? The location? Or the helplessness?”

I press the brush in just a little harder and they absolutely lose it.

Squealing, giggling, hips trying to jerk away. But restrained.

Perfect.

“I need answers, 42B,” I purr, brushing higher. “Why does this make your body react like it’s on fire? What are you actually feeling? Tell me.”

They gasp through the giggles. “I-it’s like—like pins and needles—b-but hot—and like I c-can’t breathe—!”

“Fascinating.” I lean in closer, scribbling an imaginary note in my head. “So not just ticklish. You’re overwhelmed. Electrified. Your brain doesn’t know whether to laugh or moan. It’s… confusion. Erotic confusion.”

Their eyes widen…but they’re still laughing.

And I’m still not done.

I pick up the sonic toothbrush. Reliable. Brutal. Efficient.

The look on their face is pure panic.

“N-no no no not that again—!”

I pause, smile slowly. “If you don’t want me to use this, why is your heart racing so fast?”

I switch it on.

The vibration hums like a promise.

I press it lightly to their hipbone, just above that spot..and their whole body convulses. Screaming laughter. Desperate, choked giggles. Eyes wet.

“Ten?” I ask calmly.

They nod, frantic. “T-TEN! I-it’s s-so bad!”

“Bad,” I echo thoughtfully, slowly dragging it down toward the crease of their thigh. “But you’re not crying. You’re not angry. So what kind of ‘bad’ is this? Unbearable? Or irresistible?”

I kill the vibration.

They collapse into giggles and panting. Their body’s trembling from overstimulation.

I remove my gloves. I want skin on skin now. I want to feel them jerk when I barely trace my nails down their side.

I sit at the edge of the table, leaning in until my chest brushes theirs just faintly.

“Tell me again,” I whisper, lips brushing their ear, “why do you react this way when you’re tickled? Is it the loss of control? The forced laughter? Or the way it builds, second by second, until it feels like you’re about to break?”

They swallow. Hard. Eyes glassy.

“I—I don’t know,” they whisper. “It feels s-so much. It’s like I—I hate it, but—”

“But?” I coax.

They look away, blushing deeply. “But I… l-like it too.”

Oh. Yes.

There it is.

Honesty. Confession. Discovery.

I reach down, slowly trailing my fingers toward that devastating spot just under their waistband.

“Well then…” I murmur, voice dark and amused, “I suppose we have a lot more research to do.”

��Next Day—

Confidential Research Log: Neurological Sensory Response Program

Session 4 – Subject 42B

Researchers: Dr. Evelyn Rhys & Dr. Mira Voss

Status: Restrained | Responsive | Highly Susceptible

Live Notes – Dr. Rhys

They’re back on the table. Ankles bound. Wrists cuffed above their head. Still trembling. Still blushing.

But today, they’re not just under my observation.

Dr. Mira Voss stands beside me—clipboard in one hand, lips curled in a thoughtful smirk. She’s brilliant. Methodical. Sharper than a scalpel. And when she saw my notes from the last session, her only response was:

“Maybe you’re missing variables. Let me help.”

So here we are. Two scientists. One subject. Countless possibilities.

“Baseline reactions first,” Mira says crisply, glancing down at the subject. “Try the feather. No pressure. Just surface stimulation.”

I nod and take the soft white feather, dragging it slowly across their ribs.

Instant. Giggling. Their muscles twitch like live wire beneath the surface.

Mira raises an eyebrow. “Rating?”

“F-Five—maybe six!” the subject squeals.

“Noted,” she murmurs. “Subject 42B presents strong initial response to light touch, especially at the lateral thoracic region. Ticklishness appears reflexive, not voluntary. Let’s test duration.”

I keep the feather moving. Ribs, underarms, back down their stomach.

The giggling rises—helpless, high-pitched. They try to twist away, but there’s no escape.

“Already squirming,” Mira murmurs, fascinated. “What do you think? Nerve clusters? Or is this more psychological?”

I lean in close to the subject. “Are you laughing because it tickles? Or because you hate not being able to stop it?”

They can’t answer. Just laugh and gasp, struggling to breathe.

“Mm. Fascinating,” I whisper. “That little edge between suffering and pleasure.”

Mira moves around the table and picks up the makeup brush, running it slowly down the inner thigh.

The subject jerks so hard the table rattles.

“Oh,” Mira smiles, soft and dangerous. “That’s a ten, isn’t it?”

They try to speak through squeals: “T-TEN! T-TEN!!”

“Interesting…” Mira says coolly. “Why do you think the thighs are so sensitive, Evelyn?”

“Proximity to erogenous zones, maybe. Shame, exposure. Learned vulnerability,” I reply, watching the way their toes curl.

She tilts her head. “You think they’re embarrassed?”

I lean down, breath hot near their ear. “Are you?”

They nod frantically.

Mira hums. “Oh, we have to keep going now.”

She takes the sonic toothbrush and holds it up. “Last time you used this, they screamed. What if we tried synchronized stimulation?”

“Delicious idea,” I murmur.

I take the other side — my nails digging gently into their side while Mira presses the vibrating brush just above their inner thigh.

The reaction is instantaneous.

They scream-laugh, tears in their eyes, back arching, hips bucking. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

Mira bites her lip, watching. “They’re overloaded. Look at the eyes. Dilated pupils. Every system firing.”

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, slowing my movements just to watch them pant.

They’re gasping, giggling between words: “C-c-can’t—can’t—take it!”

“Oh, but you can,” I whisper.

Mira leans over them now, clipboard abandoned. She trails her fingers along their cheek, tender but clinical.

“You say ‘can’t,’ but look at your body. Quivering. Flushed. So responsive,” she murmurs.

“You’re not fighting us,” I add, nails dancing just below their ribs. “You’re not begging us to stop. Why is that?”

They’re breathless, dazed, still giggling from the residual sensation. “B-because it f-feels… too good…”

There it is.

Mira exhales slowly, eyes locked on them. “We’re triggering pleasure responses through ticklish stimuli. Fascinating. Completely involuntary arousal.”

“Let’s test thresholds,” I suggest, slipping off my gloves. “Raw nerve contact. Fingertips. Direct stimulation.”

“I’ll monitor the thighs again,” Mira says, and this time she sits on the edge of the table, trapping the subject’s legs beneath her.

“No more squirming,” she says sweetly. “We want full exposure.”

I rake my nails gently down their stomach as Mira leans in and resumes with the brush—firm, fast, relentless.

Their reaction is unlike anything before.

Screaming laughter. Sobbing giggles. Body shaking uncontrollably. Raw.

“Why does this feel so intense?” Mira asks over the noise. “Why this spot? Why this reaction?”

“Why are you moaning between the laughter?” I whisper. “Do you want us to find your worst spot?”

They’re gone—helpless. Body limp, laughter ragged and broken.

It’s beautiful.

Mira smiles over their trembling form. “This is going to be one hell of a paper.”

I smile back.

“Let’s collect just a few more data points…”

And the experiment continues.

For science, of course.

And maybe something much, much deeper.

i wasnt gonna answer this because i never want to lose it but fuck . oh my god

ive already went insane about this last night but GODDDD UGGHHGKHFDHGFHKLGDLKD

completely immobile ... with two scientists above me ... studying me and my reactions to whatever they decide to put me through ... and all i can do is fucking sit there and taKE IT ??? ?? ?? ?

the sheer helplessness .. the embarrassment ... the EXCITEMENT ... put me down now sedate me SEDATE ME

its unhealthy how many times ive read this over. oh my god oh my god helpHRELP

ugh. UGH i love scientists .. . .... im normal IM A NORMAL PERSON WHO LIKES THINGS NORMALLY. MHM. YHEAH

[knismo-freakazoid]

not fair how i fold so quickly when she calls me baby. ugh

[knismo-freakazoid]

"get a job"?? now why would i do that when i can just be my girlfriend's stress relief service puppygirl? ever thought of that, huh? clearly not 😒

[knismo-freakazoid]

more doodles.. this time with gf cameo :3

[knismo-freakazoid]

Why do you like her

oh god where do i STARTTT

absolutely GORGEOUS looks aside (like fuck shes a GODDESS?) shes so so kind and open minded, i came out to her with an interest i was scared she'd judge or feel weird about but she was so casual about it i felt silly for even being nervous in the first place

shes so comforting and caring and understanding and so so easy to talk to, i could talk to her for hours about stuff that doesnt make sense and id do it over and over forever if i could. sometimes our vcs go quiet and even then its never awkward, just a comforting silence knowing shes on the other side, right there with me <3

SHE REMEMBERS LITTLE THINGS, like stuff i think she'd forget because i mention it offhandedly, NO she'll recall it like id told her 5 minutes ago and it catches me off guard all the time because WHY DO YOU REMEMBER THIS !!!! /sillypos

MY BIGGEST SUPPORTER FR, always complimenting my art, complimenting me in general and just jhhrrgh hrrrrhggh

MAKES AN EFFORT, i told her about my favourite music artists and she started listening to them like a day laterrrrr ..... auauaghgh

willing to do silly corny couple stuff with me .... thinking its cute and fun ....

i dont have to be scared to be myself around her. i dont feel like i have to put up a front, or pretend to be someone im not. i can just.. open up and be honest with myself and with her and it feels so sosososo good

treats me like a princess <3 i feel so so so very special with her its crazy she makes me so happy i love her

[knismo-freakazoid]

came out of (public) retirement for you <3

I've been thinking about you all day. About how you look when you're underneath me, flushed, whining, already breathless before l've even touched you properly. And you know what the worst part is, sweetheart? You like being like that.

You crave it. You can act shy or innocent but the second my hands are on your thighs, you fall apart for me.

And I haven’t even seen you yet. Not like I want to. But when I do? The second we’re alone, I’m not wasting a second. I’ll have you up against the wall, my mouth on your neck, one hand slipping beneath your clothes while you cling to me, shaking already. I can’t wait to feel you underneath my fingertips… hot and wet and desperate.

You’ll try so hard to stay quiet, maybe you’ll succeed? but your body always tells the truth. Your thighs will tremble, your breathing will catch, and you’ll give yourself away before I even ask. And I’ll just smile and whisper, “You’re already like this? That’s kind of pathetic, sweet girl.”

you’re a bit of brat, i’m already aware of that, but it’s okay because I also know, from experience, when you want something bad enough…that bratty attitude is nowhere to be found? Oh all of a sudden you’ll beg and ask nicely and do almost anything to get what you want.

But it’s cute, too. The way you can’t help it. The way you melt the second I say something you like…i’m sure you’d melt the same way when I finally touch your clit..soft little circles that make your knees go weak while I kiss you deeper and deeper, pressing my body into yours like I own you.

I want to see your eyes flutter, hear those little noises you’d make when it’s too much and not enough. I want to tease your nipples with my tongue, suck them slowly while my fingers work you into a mess. I’ll pull back when you get close, just to hear that sweet whimper slip out of your mouth.

“You need it that bad, puppy? You gonna beg for it like a good little thing?”

And when you do, when you look at me with that wrecked, needy face and whisper “please” I’ll make it so worth it. I’ll press you down and rub your clit just how you like, until you’re whining, hips twitching, legs shaking around me. Over and over, until your voice breaks and your body gives out.

“That’s it, baby. Be pathetic for me. Be mine.”

But I won’t stop there. Not when you’re already trembling, not when your body’s still twitching under my fingers. I’ll keep rubbing your clit slow and steady, just enough pressure to make you cry out, legs kicking, breath hitched like it’s too much.

“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” I’ll murmur while your thighs squeeze around my wrist, “Didn’t you say you could handle it?” You’ll try to push my hand away, but I’ll grab your hips and hold you there, pressed open, helpless.

Your voice will crack, begging for a break, but I’ll just coo at you, “My poor little baby… you’re such a mess. Look at you. Shaking so hard just from my fingers. That cute little whimper you make? So pathetic. So perfect.”

And when you cum again, louder, harder, nearly sobbing. I’ll keep going. Light touches, teasing little strokes just to make your whole body jolt. You’ll be gasping, broken, clinging to me like you’ve got nothing left.

“That’s it, puppy… give me everything. Be good for me, even when it hurts. You’re doing so well. my sweet, needy thing.”

I’ll kiss your forehead like I didn’t just completely wreck you. Let you cry into my chest while I stroke your hair and whisper, “I know, baby. It’s too much. But you’re mine now. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

-yk ;3

JESUS FUCKINH CHRIST . YOU FREAK

[knismo-freakazoid]

reblog to bap prev with your paw

[knismo-freakazoid]

I loveeee women perverts

[knismo-freakazoid]

I’m wet ✅✅

How’s your night going?

okay !! i have a really bad headache so im laying in the dark lol

[knismo-freakazoid]

more doodles.. this time with gf cameo :3

[knismo-freakazoid]

shes got me giggling rolling around squealing kicking my feet like some little schoolgirl with a crush im so in love im so in love i love her

[knismo-freakazoid]

Before those messages get leaked….yes I WAS calling her mommy and asking if I was her good girl..what about it?