Advanact's
Robert's Reformation
Robert's Reformation
Chapter 4
After escaping Mrs. Johnston’s clutches, Rob’s first instinct was to check the doors. This proved to be useless -- as he had half expected – since both the front and rear doors were equipped with locks that extended down from the door’s top. The boy had always wondered why Mrs. Johnston would choose such an odd location for the bolts, but now he knew her reasons: high locks are well out of the reach of little hands.
Hearing soft footsteps from behind, the lad spun about to see his captor standing in the doorway.
“Naughty boy!” scolded Mrs. Johnston as she looked down at the startled man-child. “Imagine that! Trying to escape before you’ve even had your breakfast!” Squeezing her naked breasts for emphasis, the matron giggled ominously and began to stride toward him. Watching as Rob bolted from the room, the witch cooed her taunts after him.
“Silly Robbie, you’ll find that all the windows have been locked, too. And don’t bother trying to break your way out – I’ve put a wonderful little shield spell all around this house. It can hold back a herd of elephants and can certainly keep a helpless little boy like you safely out of harm’s way ... *giggle*” ... Further demoralized at this news and nearing exhaustion, Rob considered if he might find a temporary place to hide from his giant babysitter -- it certainly wouldn’t be long before she caught up with him after her low-speed chase!
Looking franticly about, the boy quickly spied a small couch-side table which his newly shrunk form would easily fit under. Hearing the taunts of the matron close behind, Rob hurriedly ducked beneath the table and crawled back to crouch between the wall and sofa. “With a ...
“Ooooooooh, you naughty boy!” scolded the giant, just a few feet away from Robert’s hiding place. “I was just WAITING for you to run out of this room and trap you all up in a nice, snuggly hug.
“But you were too smart for me, hmm? Weren’t you? You KNEW I was waiting right around the corner, didn't you?" Pacing into the room, the matron continued "Oooooh, you’re a sneaky little rascal, Robbie. Most little boys run right into my Boobie Trap! ... *giggle*"
“Now, then, since you’re such a tricky little munchkin, let’s see how well you can hide from Auntie Martha...” Watching silently from his hidden place behind the sofa, the boy could see that his babysitter had started to systematically search through the room – She knew he was here!
“Come out, come out, where ever you are!” sang the bosomy witch, as she poked about the couch cushions on the opposite side of the room. “I know you’re in here somewhere, Robbie, and we both know that I’ll find you eventually ... *giggle*
“Why not just be a good little boy and give yourself up now, hmm? I’d really hate to punish you for being naughty...”
Gulping in worry, Rob considered his options. There really was nothing he could do! It was only a matter of time before Mrs. Johnston would peer below the table and see him. Then, he would be done for.
“C’mon, Robbie. We both know you’re hungry... *giggle* ... Why not come out for a nice snuggle with Nana Martha, hmm? I’m sure you’ll be a lot more comfortable in my lap than your silly little hiding place...”
He couldn’t escape, but how could he surrender? He was a grown adult, for pete’s sake! Walking out into the arms of that witch would only be an admission that he really was just a baby under her control, that he accepted her guidance, that he wanted to nurse at her breasts...
“Aaaaaaaw,” cooed Mrs. Johnston, as she began to crawl about on her hands and knees, peering under the room’s tables and chairs. “Poor ‘bitty Robbie’s all scared, isn’t he?
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Mummy will make sure you’re all safe and warm ... *giggle* ... once she catches you, that is!” Robert squealed as he felt the woman’s gentle fingers firmly wrap about his ankles. “Gotcha!” she laughed, “Now, be a good boy Robbie and come to Mama, come to Mama now...” cooing reassurances as she slowly pulled the man-child out from his hiding place, Rob cast his arms about, trying desperately to get a grip on something which he could hold to stop himself. With his arm finding a solid, wooden couch-leg, the boy reached forward with both hands and held on with all of his might.
Feeling her captive’s attempts at resistance, Mrs. Johnston tugged lightly at the boy’s feet, giggled gently and then cooed “Now, Robbie, we both know I have you and you can’t get away.
“Why don’t you just let go of that silly sofa and come to Mama now, hmm?”
Knowing the truth of her words, Rob only shouted back a defiant “NO!”
Tugging gently at the boy’s legs to test the firmness of his grip, Mrs. Johnston kept hold of Robert’s ankles, sighed in resignation and sat upon the floor. “Well then,” said the matron, as she held the boy’s bare feet before her. “I guess I’ll just have to use a little persuasion...” Holding onto the steadying wooden leg for all he was worth, Robert braced himself for whatever was to come next.
Feeling no further tug from Mrs. Johnston’s firm grip, Rob waited in worry for a full minute before he felt a gentle teasing at the soles of his feet. Giggling at the boy’s struggles as he reflexively wiggled his toes, the matron steadied her grip, fluttered her fingers, and sang a condescending “Coochie, coochie, coooooooooo!”
Oh, no! She was going to tickle him out!
Resolutely gripping the sofa’s wooden leg in his hands, the boy couldn’t help but squirm as he felt the teases at his sensitive feet.
“Kitchy, kitchy, kooooooo!” teased Mrs. Johnston. “Tickle, tickle, tickle, little boy...”
“P-please...” muttered Robert, as he bit his lip to stop the laughter from coming. “P-p-please d-d-don’t...”
“Please don’t what, little boy? Please don’t tickle?”
Giggling at Robert’s embarrassment, Martha taunted with a coy pout, “Why, Bobby! You can stop Mama’s tickling whenever you want. It’s easy... *giggle* ... Just cover your feet with your hands!” Looking back to his restrained ankles, the young man watched helplessly as the witch’s playfully wiggling fingers slowly approached his bare soles once more.
“Gitsee gitsee!” teased his captor in her sing-song voice. “Here come the ticklefingers to coochie the naughty boy!” Squirming at the matron’s nimble touch, Rob briefly lost his concentration and, despite himself, began to giggle.
“See?” tittered the witch. “You’re not a man anymore. You’re mummy Martha’s ticklish little baby now.
“Gitsee, gitsee, gooooo!”
Squirming childishly about as his giggling grew into laughter, Robert felt a thrill of panic as he saw the gentle curve of Mrs. Johnston’s bosom sway into view. Silently looming above like a predator in wait, the satin-soft globes menacingly jiggled and bounced with each of the matron’s ticklish strokes.
Only too aware he would find himself smothered in that fleshy softness if he lost his grip for even a moment, the young man tightened his grasp on the wooden furniture and kicked about with all his strength. The penalty for failure was clear: He had to break free!
“Coochie cooooo!”
Watching helplessly as his toes once again submitted to Mrs. Johnston’s devilish tease, Robert tried desperately to free himself from the witch’s gentle grip, but it was no use! Try as he might, even his strongest kicks served only to playfully jiggle the breasts which patiently awaited his surrender.
“Tick-le, tick-le, TICK-le!”
Closing his eyes and attempting to diminish his ticklishness through sheer force of will, the young man’s grip upon the couch began to weaken as his laughter grew. Seizing the advantage, Mrs. Johnston began to gently pull at her captive’s ankles.
“Oh, you poor boy!” taunted the matron, as she delivered another volley of devilish tickles. “You poor, helpless little boy! The teasing must be simply AWFUL! Why not let go of that silly couch and stop the tickles, hmm?
“Why not stop the tickles and come to Mummy Martha.
“Come to Mama...”
Weakening as the moments passed, the boy’s ticklishness soon overwhelmed him with punishingly hysteric giggles. Betrayed by the sensitivity of his youthful flesh, Robert’s grip slipped as his laughter grew until he was finally pulled from hiding place and enveloped by the smothering softness of his tormentor’s ample bosom. Although the teasing at his feet had ended, Rob found himself giggling despite himself as Martha Johnston stood up from the floor and seated herself and her captive in an over-stuffed chair on the opposite side of the room.
Adjusting her hold on the lad to seat him comfortably across her lap, Rob found himself, again, helplessly clutched to the softness of Martha Johnston’s flesh as the woman gazed kindly down upon him.
“Well, now,” cooed the matron with a condescending purr. “I do hope you’ve learned your lesson, little boy: There’s no escape from Mummy Martha!”
Frowning unhappily in the giant’s clutches, Robert could hardly disagree.
“Now, will you be a good little baby and have your num nums?” Turning the man-child to face her welcoming nipple, the witch did not seem surprised to see the defiant lad again refuse to nurse.
“Very well,” sighed the matron. “Nana can wait all day until her little boy is ready...” Giggling gently as she snuggled the tight-lipped lad close in her lap, Martha Johnston hugged her arms firmly about the man-child and reached her nimble fingers down towards his bare feet.
“H-hey!” tittered the infuriated young man as he squirmed in the woman’s lap. “W-what ... *giggle* ... are you ... *geehehehe* ... do-oo-oo-ing?”
Smiling gently downwards, the witch cooed “Why, I’m tickling your feet, silly boy.”
“Well, STOhohohohoP IT!”
Easily subduing the young man’s struggles with a gentle hug, Martha cooed her sympathies and continued her gentle tease.
“What’s that, little boy? Can’t take a silly little tickle? A big strong man like you?”
“STOOOOOOOOOooohohohohohop!”
“Uh, uh, uuuuuuuuuuuuh!” teased the matron. “Mama won’t stop her tickle until little Robbie agrees to be a good boy and have his num nums.” Pressing Robert’s face to the softness of her bosom for emphasis, Mrs. Johnston tut-tutted her charge and continued her merciless tease.
“Coochie, coochie, coooooooooo!” sang Martha, as Robert began to laugh in earnest. “Nana can tickle her little boy aaaaaaaaall day long if he wants...”
“Nooooooooooooooohohohohohoho!” squealed the lad as his laughter grew stronger. Squirming helplessly about in the giant’s soft embrace, Robert knew that there would be no escape. Unable to kick free of the fingers that gently stroked and wiggled at his soles, there was nothing he could do but laugh and laugh until one or another of them gave in. And he knew that his captor wasn’t about to surrender...
“Tickle, tickle, tickle, little one! Be a good boy and laugh for Mummy now...
“*giggle* ... We can play Tickle for as long as you want!”
Looking over to the plump breasts jiggling beside him, Robert wasn’t sure how much longer that would be...
Growing more and more furious with the infantile way Mrs. Johnston was treating him, and angered still further by the helpless feeling of having laughter teased from his body, Robert struggled to escape with all his might while glaring up at his tormentor and screaming out his protests.
“You Bihihihitch!!!” he shrieked from under his forced mirth. “You Bihihihitch!!
“Lehehehet me GO! ...geeheehee... NOW!” Struggling furiously within the matron’s firm hug, it was clear to Robert that he would never manage to squirm free of the arms which held him fast. “LET ME GO!” he shouted again, his struggles subsiding. “Or I’ll TeheheheheheLL on you!!!
“Whehen I get out of hehehere I’ll tell EHEHEHEveryone what you DooHooHooHooHoo...”
Heartily laughing at Robert’s attempt at a threat, Mrs. Johnston looked down upon her ticklishly hysteric charge and cooed, “You go right ahead, Bobby.
“When our little visit is over, why don’t you tell EVERYONE that mean ‘ol Mummy Martha magically turned you into a little boy and tickled you silly, hmm? Gitsee Gitsee Gooooooooooooooooo!
“I’m sure they’ll all believe your story ... *giggle* ... Of course, if you ever tried such a silly thing, I’d tell them what REALLY happened: That you drank too much again, broke a window, stole my car and ran it into my favourite tree! That seems more likely, doesn’t it?”
“Nooooohohohoho!!!”
“Oh, yes!
“And, being the forgiving type, I’d insist that you work off your debt to me here, doing odd jobs around the house for a month, or two, or three, or four...
“And believe me, little boy,” giggled the witch, as her eyes glimmered sinisterly. “You wouldn’t enjoy what happened during those months. Not at all...”
Chastened by the giant’s threats, the seriousness of Robert’s plight was bizarrely contradicted by the helpless, ticklish laughter he was being forced to produce. Wanting more than anything to rationally discuss a way out of his situation, the matron’s gentle tickling precluded any thoughts of adult conversation as Martha’s nimble fingers coaxed Robert to giggle hysterically whenever he tried to speak out of turn.
After a few more torturous minutes in his babysitter’s embrace, the laughing man-boy concluded that his hopes were lost. While he was clutched within Mrs. Johnston’s imprisoning hug, he could be made to do anything the witch wanted -- or face the consequences of disobedience -- and so he might as well surrender now...
“Okahahay! OKAHAHAY!!!” squealed Robert from within his soft prison. “I’ll do it! I’LL DOhoohoohoo IT!”
“Hmm?” asked the matron, playing dumb. “You’ll what?”
“I’LL DO WHAT YOU SAhahahaY!!!”
“*giggle* ... and what’s that, you ticklish little boy?”
“AAAAAAAAAahahahaha...” laughed Rob, frustrated beyond measure at this feigned stupidity. “I’ll NURSE! I’ll hahahave my num nuhuhuhhums! I’ll Eeeheeheeat My Breheheakfast!!!!”
“Oh?” gasped Mrs. Johnston, feigning surprise at this turn of events. “You’ll be a good boy and suck from Mummy?”
“Yehehehess!” squealed the lad. “I’ll do whahahatever youhoohoohoo wahahant!”
“You will?”
“Yehehehess!”
“You’ll give a suck-suck?”
“Yehehehess!!”
“On Mummy’s boobies?”
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!” shrieked the young man, desperate for the tickles to stop.
“Are you sure?” asked the matron, one last time. “Are you really, REALLY sure?”
“Yehehehess! Pleehehehease, Mrs. Johohonstohohon! Pleeheeheease!!
“I’ll do Ahehehennything!!!”
Looking off in the distance while continuing her merciless tickle, Mrs. Johnston pondered this answer for a minute more and then, looking down at the giggling boy, smiled gently from ear to ear and cooed her response: “Well, Bobby...
“Mummy doesn’t beliEEEEEEEEEve you! ... *giggle*...”
“Wha-?” gasped the lad, shocked at this answer.
“Nope! I don’t believe my little Robby honestly means what he says. You don’t really want to nurse from Mummy’s boobies now, do you?”
“Oh, yes! Ohohoho Yehehehesss!” pleaded Robert, desperate to be believed. “Oh, pleheeheease Mrs. Johohohonston!! PLEASE stohohohohop the tihihihickles, pleeheeheeheease!!!”
“Nope!” snipped the matron, as she adjusted her snuggling grip. “I think we need to play a bit more Tickle before you REALLY mean what you say...
“Coochie, coochie, coooooooo!” tittered the bosomy witch, as she continued her infernal tease.
“No!! Noohohohoho!” squealed the boy, as he began his struggles anew. “Plehehease! You’ve GOT to belieheeheeheeive me!” With this one decision – his ONE means of ending this torture -- now taken from his grasp, Robert truly felt helpless for the first time in his life.
“Pleheeheease Mrs. Johohonston!! PleeheeHEEHEEASE!!!” desperate to convince his captor of his earnestness, Robert pleaded repeatedly for a merciful release from her teases.
But the matron refused to answer. Smiling gently downwards and snuggling the boy affectionately, her only response to Robert’s new-found wish for obedience was a continuous, gentle caress at his bare soles.
“Gitsee gitsee!” cooed the matron. “Who’s a ticklish baby, hmm?
“Who’s a ticklish widdle boy? ... *giggle* ...”
“No!
“Nooooooohohoho!
“AAAAhahahaa!! PLEEHEEHEEASE!!!
“PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEEHEASE!!!” and so Robert’s pleading laughter continued, on and on, from within the matron’s torturously gentle embrace. As the tickles continued, the man’s will to resist was gradually replaced by a strengthening desire to obey his tormentor’s wishes. Very much aware of the helplessness of his situation, Robert promised himself, again and again, that whatever Mrs. Johnston asked of him in the future, he would be quick to obey. Mindlessly begging forgiveness, the young man felt the tickles persist for an endless time more until, silently and suddenly, he felt the teases at his feet withdraw.
Feeling the gentle touch of Martha Johnston’s breast against his cheek, the man-child swiveled his head without hesitation and eagerly took the plump nipple in his mouth. Nursing gratefully, forever thankful for the opportunity, Robert firmly pressed his face into the matron’s abundant softness to ensure there could be no question of his obedience.
Smiling down in approval, Martha Johnston gently cradled the young man’s head and cooed her satisfaction. “Good boy,” purred the satisfied witch. “That’s a very good baby boy...”