laughter_n_love
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2001
- Messages
- 293
- Points
- 0
TickleDemon.
Just a name. Not even a real word. Two words, with no plausible connection, smashed together haphazardly. Won't find it in a dictionary. Can't use it in a sentence. It was nonsensical, illogical, and inappropriate anywhere other than in a chat room.
TickleDemon.
An argument could be made that it was a ridiculous choice for a screen name. Demons do not exist, except in literature, and even then, there are none that wreak their havoc through tickling. Was it supposed to sound dark and foreboding, to make the rest of the chat world tremble in their knees? Or was it supposed to be eye catching in it's uniqueness, like blue hair or purposely mismatched clothes? Or was there little to no thought at all put into this foolish choice of names?
It was an absurd word.
So why the mere sight of it have Erica trembling with fear and excitement in her desk chair?
Erica had no idea how to proceed. She had picked up quite a bit during her extended Friday night online, but the world of chatting was still all so new to her. The concept of interacting with faceless, voiceless others was strange, as was trying to express her emotions through text only, or read the expressions of others. It was like learning an entire new culture; there was a whole language to learn, complete with slang, and rules of etiquette and conduct that had to be adopted, lest the 'regulars' come down on her mercilessly. She had to remind herself that on the other side of all those messages being passed back and forth, both public and private, were people just like her. Just regular people, sitting at computers, typing away to each other. But they all seemed so comfortable with one another, like old friends, and she was still the awkward new kid. Sure, there were some that were going out of their way to making her feel welcome, but her insecurities exposed a shyness that was not natural to her. All of the comfort that she had felt online last night was gone. Gone because now he was in the room with her, and everything she said had to be weighed carefully. Indecision closed in, and she felt paralyzed to begin typing.
She'd entered the room a good five minutes ago, but had yet to say a word. The others who had peppered her screen with private messages and hellos were starting to give up trying to get her attention. They must have assumed that her connection was bad, and that she wasn't able to respond. Her connection was fine, but her confidence was not. TickleDemon was not among those who had said hello or sent her a private message. Like herself, he had said nothing at all, and in that silence Erica read everything. "He's not interested. He's too good for me. I'm not worthy of his attention." She felt the apprehension within her growing, and questioned whether or not coming back into this room had been a good idea after all.
The passing moments were excruciating. Nothing changed but the level of her anxiety. There was no rhyme or reason to why she felt such uncertainty, but it was there nonetheless. Erica was a sweetheart. She was a cutie. Men were attracted to her. She wasn't a bitch. She was loving and lovable in return. She knew all this about herself, and that there was no reason for her to feel anything but sure of herself.
But this man was different. She had built up the figure of this man so greatly in her head that all she could feel was fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure. Fear of not showing him the respect he deserved. Fear of being anything less than perfect for him.
"Knock it off! You've come too far to turn into a chicken now," Erica mentally scolded herself. She swallowed hard and moved her mouse over to open up a private message between herself and TickleDemon.
A new private message popped up on her screen at that same moment. "Greetings, little one. Are you quite all right?" It was from him.
Erica jumped a bit in her seat. He had written to her first! She couldn't suppress the nervous smile of delight that crept across her lips.
"I'm very well, thanks for asking." Quickly, she opened another window and popped up his barren profile with the picture of his face on her screen. It was much easier to imagine him talking to her with his face right there.
"Excellent," was all he wrote in return. Erica didn't know how to respond to that, so stared at the private message window, hoping he'd say something else. Eventually he did.
"You have caused quite a stir in the tickling community, little one. You and your friend."
Erica stared into the dark eyes of his picture. He seemed to be staring straight into her soul. Why did he keep calling her little one?
"We have? Sorry about that." It didn't sound like the right response, but suddenly things were happening too fast for her.
"No need to apologize. We were in need of a new member such as yourself."
Something tickled at the base of Erica's brain. What did he mean by that? She sat, trying to think of a polite way to ask that very question, when he wrote again.
"I understand that you came back online last night and cleared up some things with the room. I'm sorry I missed that."
"Yes, I did. I wanted to explain what really happened here."
"That is good. The people here will respect you for that."
Erica felt a tinge of pride as his words. He hadn't really complimented her, but somehow his words felt like praise.
"Everyone seemed glad that I explained things."
"Yes, I know."
Erica felt that tickling in her skull again. How would he have known, unless he was talking about her with the others? She felt a little stirring in her stomach of pleasure knowing that he had been asking about her.
There was a silence again between them. Erica did not know how to continue, and hoped that he would again lead the conversation.
"It is a shame that you do not have a picture in your profile, little one. You sound quite lovely."
Erica blushed. "Thank you. I'll try to get one posted."
More silence. The conversation was a bit awkward, but it was progressing in the right direction it seemed.
"If I may ask, little one, was last night the first time you were ever tied and tickled?" TickleDemon asked.
Erica's heart skipped a beat. The time for small talk was over it seemed. He had moved the conversation right to the good stuff.
"Yes, it was."
"How did you like it?"
She froze. How much should she reveal to him? She was desperate to tell him all, but she barely knew him. Should she be coy? Flirtatious? Reserved? Candid?
"Honestly, it was incredible. I can't believe how much I enjoyed it." There, she said it. No point in shutting the barn doors now; the horses were already out.
"Excellent. You must be very ticklish then."
Boldness emerged from somewhere within Erica. "Yes, I'm unbelievably ticklish. You wouldn't believe it. I'm ticklish all over, but my feet are the worst. Even the slightest touch tickle me there." Waiting for his response after typing all that was like torture. This was the most open she had ever been with anyone about her ticklishness. It was like a weight being lifted off her shoulders to share it, but it was mixed with fear. She was giving away all her secrets and weaknesses to one who might someday use them against her. Or was that just wishful thinking?
"I gathered that from your screen name, little one," he said. Erica blushed, having forgotten momentarily that she was Tickle_My_Tootsies, or Tootsies to those who remembered her. And she was rapidly growing to like the way he referred to her as "little one". It was comforting, like she was talking to her Daddy. Or to her owner.
"Did you tell your friend how much you enjoyed the experience?" he asked.
"No. She wouldn't understand."
"I understand."
The double meaning of TickleDemon's last post was not lost on her. Erica's friend, who was not a ticklephile like they were, would not be able to relate to what Erica had felt. Many who do not have a fetish for tickling often are close-minded on the pleasures of the subject. Not only do they not understand, but they may have any number of negative reactions learning of a person's fetish for it. Ridicule, disbelief, disgust, shock; all were possible. Explaining one's love of tickling to another ticklephile is difficult in itself; to attempt to explain to a non-ticklephile is a much trickier undertaking. The audience must be open-minded by nature to accept such a revelation, and Karen's remarks about the 'cyber freaks and geeks' from last night put her out of that category. TickleDemon understood all this. He was acknowledging Erica's reluctance to share her feelings with her friend.
But he was also telling her that he understood what she had felt last night. He knew very well the titillation that comes from giving control of oneself over to another, being bound, being made helpless to defend oneself, being bared, having one's most sensitive spots exposed and vulnerable for another's amusement, and having that other person exercise slow precision at reducing one to a giggling, twitching, pleading mass of tortured flesh. He was telling her that he knew about the Nirvana in one's head, what it's like to visit there, and that he knew how to return to it as often as one liked. As Erica had envisioned in her thoughts of TickleDemon while struggling to decide whether or not to return online, he was a man of few words, but he made those few words count.
Erica felt lust building up inside her. It was irrational, but it was also undeniable. So far, this man had lived up to her unrealistic expectations or exceeded them in every category, and she liked where this conversation was going.
"It's so nice to find someone else who understands," she typed. "Come on, TickleDemon," she thought. "Sweep me off my feet."
"Oh, I understand very well. I'm guessing that you haven't stopped thinking about your experience since it happened."
"I haven't," she wrote, but it was only partially true. She'd thought an awful lot of this chat room and this chatter as well.
"And I'm guessing you are wondering if you will have another experience like that again in your life."
"Yes, it was definitely something I want to experience again."
"I can help you with that, little one."
There it was. Erica couldn't believe her eyes, even if she had known that this was where he had been leading her all along. The conversation had suddenly turned from slowly adventurous to a dizzying freefall. The dark figure on her computer screen stared intensely at her, through her even, to the depths of her subconscious and beyond. A chill ran down her spine, and she felt goose bumps breaking out on her skin. What had been a exploration of her fantasies was now all to frighteningly real. Her brain kicked into overdrive, trying to make sense of the situation.
"This is insane. I can't believe I'm talking like this to someone I've never met. He could be a serial killer. He could be a rapist. Why am I telling him these things about myself? Why do I trust him so much?"
The seconds of the clock ticked by, and still Erica could think of nothing to write in response to his offer. To tell him "no, thank you" would be a lie, and it would likely drive him away forever. To tell him, "yes, I'd like that very much" would be the truth, but was probably a mistake that she might not live to regret. Would he understand a "maybe"? Would he understand that she was interested, but scared out of her wits?
Nothing came to mind, and no answer seemed right. The silence stretched on, and she began to panic. "I'm going to blow this," was all she could think of. She needed more time to evaluate all this. "I've got to get out of here," was all she could conclude for sure.
"I gotta go," she typed, with no intention of waiting for a response. The plan was to log out of the chat room, switch off her computer, and crack open more wine for some heavy thinking, but a moment of inspiration made her pause. "I'll talk to you soon," she added. With that, she clicked the icon to log out, and Tickle_My_Tootsies disappeared from 'Tied and Tickled' hastily once again. TickleDemon had not had a chance to reply.
The rest of Saturday night was spent with a bottle of Merlot, her thoughts, and her decisions about the next time she would speak with him. By the time the bottle was empty, she had made up her mind. Erica, who had just recently discovered there was a whole world of tickling fetishists like herself online, had decided to add herself to the short list of those who actually met up with others in real life.
The End??
Laughter
One Woman's Journey
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10306 Discovery
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10505 Hesitation
Just a name. Not even a real word. Two words, with no plausible connection, smashed together haphazardly. Won't find it in a dictionary. Can't use it in a sentence. It was nonsensical, illogical, and inappropriate anywhere other than in a chat room.
TickleDemon.
An argument could be made that it was a ridiculous choice for a screen name. Demons do not exist, except in literature, and even then, there are none that wreak their havoc through tickling. Was it supposed to sound dark and foreboding, to make the rest of the chat world tremble in their knees? Or was it supposed to be eye catching in it's uniqueness, like blue hair or purposely mismatched clothes? Or was there little to no thought at all put into this foolish choice of names?
It was an absurd word.
So why the mere sight of it have Erica trembling with fear and excitement in her desk chair?
Erica had no idea how to proceed. She had picked up quite a bit during her extended Friday night online, but the world of chatting was still all so new to her. The concept of interacting with faceless, voiceless others was strange, as was trying to express her emotions through text only, or read the expressions of others. It was like learning an entire new culture; there was a whole language to learn, complete with slang, and rules of etiquette and conduct that had to be adopted, lest the 'regulars' come down on her mercilessly. She had to remind herself that on the other side of all those messages being passed back and forth, both public and private, were people just like her. Just regular people, sitting at computers, typing away to each other. But they all seemed so comfortable with one another, like old friends, and she was still the awkward new kid. Sure, there were some that were going out of their way to making her feel welcome, but her insecurities exposed a shyness that was not natural to her. All of the comfort that she had felt online last night was gone. Gone because now he was in the room with her, and everything she said had to be weighed carefully. Indecision closed in, and she felt paralyzed to begin typing.
She'd entered the room a good five minutes ago, but had yet to say a word. The others who had peppered her screen with private messages and hellos were starting to give up trying to get her attention. They must have assumed that her connection was bad, and that she wasn't able to respond. Her connection was fine, but her confidence was not. TickleDemon was not among those who had said hello or sent her a private message. Like herself, he had said nothing at all, and in that silence Erica read everything. "He's not interested. He's too good for me. I'm not worthy of his attention." She felt the apprehension within her growing, and questioned whether or not coming back into this room had been a good idea after all.
The passing moments were excruciating. Nothing changed but the level of her anxiety. There was no rhyme or reason to why she felt such uncertainty, but it was there nonetheless. Erica was a sweetheart. She was a cutie. Men were attracted to her. She wasn't a bitch. She was loving and lovable in return. She knew all this about herself, and that there was no reason for her to feel anything but sure of herself.
But this man was different. She had built up the figure of this man so greatly in her head that all she could feel was fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure. Fear of not showing him the respect he deserved. Fear of being anything less than perfect for him.
"Knock it off! You've come too far to turn into a chicken now," Erica mentally scolded herself. She swallowed hard and moved her mouse over to open up a private message between herself and TickleDemon.
A new private message popped up on her screen at that same moment. "Greetings, little one. Are you quite all right?" It was from him.
Erica jumped a bit in her seat. He had written to her first! She couldn't suppress the nervous smile of delight that crept across her lips.
"I'm very well, thanks for asking." Quickly, she opened another window and popped up his barren profile with the picture of his face on her screen. It was much easier to imagine him talking to her with his face right there.
"Excellent," was all he wrote in return. Erica didn't know how to respond to that, so stared at the private message window, hoping he'd say something else. Eventually he did.
"You have caused quite a stir in the tickling community, little one. You and your friend."
Erica stared into the dark eyes of his picture. He seemed to be staring straight into her soul. Why did he keep calling her little one?
"We have? Sorry about that." It didn't sound like the right response, but suddenly things were happening too fast for her.
"No need to apologize. We were in need of a new member such as yourself."
Something tickled at the base of Erica's brain. What did he mean by that? She sat, trying to think of a polite way to ask that very question, when he wrote again.
"I understand that you came back online last night and cleared up some things with the room. I'm sorry I missed that."
"Yes, I did. I wanted to explain what really happened here."
"That is good. The people here will respect you for that."
Erica felt a tinge of pride as his words. He hadn't really complimented her, but somehow his words felt like praise.
"Everyone seemed glad that I explained things."
"Yes, I know."
Erica felt that tickling in her skull again. How would he have known, unless he was talking about her with the others? She felt a little stirring in her stomach of pleasure knowing that he had been asking about her.
There was a silence again between them. Erica did not know how to continue, and hoped that he would again lead the conversation.
"It is a shame that you do not have a picture in your profile, little one. You sound quite lovely."
Erica blushed. "Thank you. I'll try to get one posted."
More silence. The conversation was a bit awkward, but it was progressing in the right direction it seemed.
"If I may ask, little one, was last night the first time you were ever tied and tickled?" TickleDemon asked.
Erica's heart skipped a beat. The time for small talk was over it seemed. He had moved the conversation right to the good stuff.
"Yes, it was."
"How did you like it?"
She froze. How much should she reveal to him? She was desperate to tell him all, but she barely knew him. Should she be coy? Flirtatious? Reserved? Candid?
"Honestly, it was incredible. I can't believe how much I enjoyed it." There, she said it. No point in shutting the barn doors now; the horses were already out.
"Excellent. You must be very ticklish then."
Boldness emerged from somewhere within Erica. "Yes, I'm unbelievably ticklish. You wouldn't believe it. I'm ticklish all over, but my feet are the worst. Even the slightest touch tickle me there." Waiting for his response after typing all that was like torture. This was the most open she had ever been with anyone about her ticklishness. It was like a weight being lifted off her shoulders to share it, but it was mixed with fear. She was giving away all her secrets and weaknesses to one who might someday use them against her. Or was that just wishful thinking?
"I gathered that from your screen name, little one," he said. Erica blushed, having forgotten momentarily that she was Tickle_My_Tootsies, or Tootsies to those who remembered her. And she was rapidly growing to like the way he referred to her as "little one". It was comforting, like she was talking to her Daddy. Or to her owner.
"Did you tell your friend how much you enjoyed the experience?" he asked.
"No. She wouldn't understand."
"I understand."
The double meaning of TickleDemon's last post was not lost on her. Erica's friend, who was not a ticklephile like they were, would not be able to relate to what Erica had felt. Many who do not have a fetish for tickling often are close-minded on the pleasures of the subject. Not only do they not understand, but they may have any number of negative reactions learning of a person's fetish for it. Ridicule, disbelief, disgust, shock; all were possible. Explaining one's love of tickling to another ticklephile is difficult in itself; to attempt to explain to a non-ticklephile is a much trickier undertaking. The audience must be open-minded by nature to accept such a revelation, and Karen's remarks about the 'cyber freaks and geeks' from last night put her out of that category. TickleDemon understood all this. He was acknowledging Erica's reluctance to share her feelings with her friend.
But he was also telling her that he understood what she had felt last night. He knew very well the titillation that comes from giving control of oneself over to another, being bound, being made helpless to defend oneself, being bared, having one's most sensitive spots exposed and vulnerable for another's amusement, and having that other person exercise slow precision at reducing one to a giggling, twitching, pleading mass of tortured flesh. He was telling her that he knew about the Nirvana in one's head, what it's like to visit there, and that he knew how to return to it as often as one liked. As Erica had envisioned in her thoughts of TickleDemon while struggling to decide whether or not to return online, he was a man of few words, but he made those few words count.
Erica felt lust building up inside her. It was irrational, but it was also undeniable. So far, this man had lived up to her unrealistic expectations or exceeded them in every category, and she liked where this conversation was going.
"It's so nice to find someone else who understands," she typed. "Come on, TickleDemon," she thought. "Sweep me off my feet."
"Oh, I understand very well. I'm guessing that you haven't stopped thinking about your experience since it happened."
"I haven't," she wrote, but it was only partially true. She'd thought an awful lot of this chat room and this chatter as well.
"And I'm guessing you are wondering if you will have another experience like that again in your life."
"Yes, it was definitely something I want to experience again."
"I can help you with that, little one."
There it was. Erica couldn't believe her eyes, even if she had known that this was where he had been leading her all along. The conversation had suddenly turned from slowly adventurous to a dizzying freefall. The dark figure on her computer screen stared intensely at her, through her even, to the depths of her subconscious and beyond. A chill ran down her spine, and she felt goose bumps breaking out on her skin. What had been a exploration of her fantasies was now all to frighteningly real. Her brain kicked into overdrive, trying to make sense of the situation.
"This is insane. I can't believe I'm talking like this to someone I've never met. He could be a serial killer. He could be a rapist. Why am I telling him these things about myself? Why do I trust him so much?"
The seconds of the clock ticked by, and still Erica could think of nothing to write in response to his offer. To tell him "no, thank you" would be a lie, and it would likely drive him away forever. To tell him, "yes, I'd like that very much" would be the truth, but was probably a mistake that she might not live to regret. Would he understand a "maybe"? Would he understand that she was interested, but scared out of her wits?
Nothing came to mind, and no answer seemed right. The silence stretched on, and she began to panic. "I'm going to blow this," was all she could think of. She needed more time to evaluate all this. "I've got to get out of here," was all she could conclude for sure.
"I gotta go," she typed, with no intention of waiting for a response. The plan was to log out of the chat room, switch off her computer, and crack open more wine for some heavy thinking, but a moment of inspiration made her pause. "I'll talk to you soon," she added. With that, she clicked the icon to log out, and Tickle_My_Tootsies disappeared from 'Tied and Tickled' hastily once again. TickleDemon had not had a chance to reply.
The rest of Saturday night was spent with a bottle of Merlot, her thoughts, and her decisions about the next time she would speak with him. By the time the bottle was empty, she had made up her mind. Erica, who had just recently discovered there was a whole world of tickling fetishists like herself online, had decided to add herself to the short list of those who actually met up with others in real life.
The End??
Laughter
One Woman's Journey
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10306 Discovery
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10505 Hesitation
Playfultoy2000 
