Musings Of An Aging Predator

This won't be a traditional "story", but rather a look backwards from my now "aged" perspective. I'm not a young man anymore...verging upon tipping out of middle aged in fact, in the minds of some of our youth oriented society. I've written countless stories in my minds eye...it's a constant process, one that the sight of nearly every woman in my daily life sets into motion on a daily basis. I've tickled hundreds of women of diverse size, age, race, and social status in real life as well.....some have been bound to immobility, others have been willing victims and many have been "accidental" (at least in their minds). As a younger man, I was fairly charming, perhaps not handsome, but clean cut, well groomed and possessed of a quick wit and some personality. I'm a highly intelligent predator...and motivated to be cunning and clever as well when I feel the "need" come upon me.... The fire that burned in both brain and belly in my teens and twenties is barely a flicker now...one that I have to "summon" rather than chain or defeat as I did decades gone by. The elaborate scenarios that I would concoct to trap my prey...the bets and teasing, the powers of observation that I would bring to bear to detect weakness or willingness in a potential victim...sigh...such intensity and passion. Shaking with anticipation as I would execute one maneuver after another...ensnaring them bit by bit if necessary. Did it all work because I was so clever, so forceful, or was it rather their own failure to escape or avoid the inevitable conclusion?
The patience I had back then was incredible. I met an 18 year old friend of my older sister and 10 years later she was a willing tickle slave who worked for me in the restaurant business. TEN YEARS.... who "works" on something for that long? Was I ever discouraged? Nope...any setback only made me more determined to complete my mission. Continued.............

Teach me, master qjakal. Share your secrets with me. I have to much to learn, have so much to gain from your wisdom. Show me the way...

In all seriousness, I'd love to hear your stories. I'm sure they are nothing short of inspirational.

Laughter

More......musings of an aged predator...

The Predator in me refused to be sated...during those years I had more than my share of tickling partners. But this woman was a focal point for nearly all other scenes. I would imagine how the eventual torment of her helpless body would compare to any other woman that had fallen into my net to that point. I would chat with her and perform routine mundane functions throughout the week...occasionally having a drink after work or some other social activity that appeared harmless. Little did she realize that behind my brown eyes staring out at her with an intensity she couldn't begin to fathom was my predatory alter ego. Let me be clear, I'm not pleading schizophrenia by any stretch, merely describing the red haze of tickle lust residing there in more personal terms. That part of me had this woman (let's call her Laura...not her actual name,btw) in its laser sight, and was driving me onwards to heights of invention and ethical gray areas that I hadn't achieved before. We were both married, although her choice was a rock star wannabe with a bit of a drug habit. I'd met him, wasn't impressed by him, and the red haze had discounted his presence totally at that point.
More time, other tickle partners... and yet it was just as clear and strong as it had been 10 years ago...Laura was being drawn to her fate as surely and slowly as honey dripping down the rim of glassware.
It culminated in her need for a sum of money due to her idiot husbands bad habits...no, I didn't "buy" her, merely stepped into the breach and saved her yet again. From that point onwards, she was ready to become more involved with me and being fairly honest, I gradually informed her of the existence and power of the haze behind my eyes...I began to let it show and when she didn't back away or down, it grew to proportions of intensity that scared even the possessor of its core. We had dozens of mutually beneficial tickling sessions...she was amazingly ticklish, beyond feather ticklish. Heaven and hell each time. She had a few "needs" of her own and in general loved being tied up, so the situation seemed ideal and the predator heaved a huge sigh of happiness for nearly 2 years. I tormented her to the point of exhaustion...quite a simple matter given her level of sensitivity actually...a feather traveling upon the bottoms of her feet would reduce her to wordless tears in less than a minute. We continued enjoying each other for quite some time...I shan't describe her own personal need here, it isn't relevant to our fascination, but was merely another tool for the predator to exploit.
And then...we stopped. She had divorced her husband nearly a year ago. I had helped her get set up on her own and she no longer worked at the same company. There was no boredom, much the opposite...which is why we stopped. When the predator faded into the background, and the scenes remained intense and continued to be a focal point of my schedule, it became clear to both of us that we were heading down a road that couldn't be traveled without heartbreak and misery for many innocents in our lives...too high a price for what was essentially a one dimensional relationship. Mutually we agreed to let each other move on...and so we did. I've remained friends with her, and even sent flowers to her next wedding (MUCH nicer guy..)..but I don't attempt to see her, because that damn red haze is always lurking. Sorry for the lack of detail...if you read this far you likely deserved the more traditional tale of torture and begging and such, but...this is only one story of an aged predator...there's an awful lot more. Q

Ah, it was so much easier when we were 18, wasn't it? I like where you're going with this, Q. I can see it now...

Now on 4 cassettes "The Musings of an Aging Predator" by Qjakal/Read by James Earl Jones.

Nice choice..

Yeah, I like that big booming voice of his also. Weird to do a TK story without focusing on the usual elements...but, rather simple really since I'm just relating true events and circumstances. I guess I was just in an introspective reflective mood at the time... Q

Aging Predator...Once More

It was one of those slow nights at the restaurant. I was closing with a long term employee...let's call her Ilene. She was a slightly plump brunette, fairly nondescript, but one of my favorite people, for several reasons. Despite being divorced and a single mother, she always had an optimistic outlook and a ready smile, as well as being of above average intelligence (one of my turn ons in a tickling partner). Mid 30's, and life hadn't been all that she hoped and dreamed it would be as girl of eighteen marrying her "dream man"...Ilene had begun to see his flaws even before the birth of their child. That event had only magnified the tensions and stress and she felt it led to the ultimate disposition of the marriage far sooner...a mercifully quick divorce and his timely move to another coast. Ilene and I had joked around and exchanged tickles even during her marriage, and this was 2 years beyond her divorce. Extremely ticklish would be an apt phrase for her, and she had an infectuous laugh that I dearly loved to elicit! We often sat around after close for awhile..grabbed a wine cooler and played some video games or just sat at a booth unwinding..a common practice in our industry, where customers were apt to keep you at a high level of stress for your entire shift. The Predator, much younger at this time, had wisely forced me to refrain from "overtickling" her during any of these seemingly opportune times...much to the annoyance of the conscious mind that felt that it was "perfect" for this activity. So very very clever and cunning it was, building trust and luring Ilene ever deeper into its complex scheme. The Predator wasn't interested in the 10 second tickling that the overmind pictured...that is the stuff of amateur daydreams and not suited to the hot intensity that was the hallmark of the Predator. Years of conversations had been steered to the correct moment...news items rehashed and placed in Ilenes subconscious to germinate and be harvested at an appropriate time....like now! There had been a series of robberies throughout the county that month, most terminating with the employees tied up and left in the cooler. Yeah......YOU see it coming, but that's because you're wired much the same way I am, and because you have insight into your own personal version of a Predator. Ilene was feeling feisty, joking about the incidents and their outcomes...
........to be continued...

what wonderful memories! please continue. getting there is half the fun. well, maybe not half... but fun!

Musings...cont.

The Predator pounced...using wit and a bit of taunting and playing upon her willingness that it had sensed so many times before to be submissive...it had stalked her and laid many a snare for her to let herself be entrapped within, and the adrenaline shakes were raging within my supposedly calm exterior. A bold statement...a dare and some doubts...do the exact loops of the coils matter to the prey? She found herself hiding a piece of paper that theoretically had the combination to the safe upon it's face, and placed in a VERY helpless position upon a stainless steel table...arms and elbows lashed to a nearby wire rack, legs similarly secured to 2 others at the opposite end of the table. The Predator howled inwardly with triumph and felt vindicated...she hadn't protested at all when he used 2 shelves, one for each leg, enabling him to increase her predicament exponentially. The "rules" required no physical pain of a lasting nature...could anything be more tailor made for our little fascination? A few moments of psuedo thought and then the Predator had an idea....which you also had many sentences ago as well. Shoes off, shirt discreetly raised while the upcoming torment was explained...wild cries of "not fair" and such phrases that were like leaves thrown against the steel of the Predators resolve and will. She favored knee-hi stockings, and the choice was lethal for her...incredibly ticklish soles were expertly put through their paces....mere seconds into the "game" she gave up the location of her paper, and sighed with relief, thinking she was beyond the worst because of that act. Cruelly the Predator reminded her that the winner of the bet "owned" one hour of the losers time, to use as he/she saw fit...and the dawning comprehension upon her now beautiful visage was far more precious than any Picasso could have been to the Predator. Another round of full blown shakes within myself before settling in to the task at hand...driving the semi willing victim nearly mad with sensations far past any she had ever feared or imagined herself to be capable of enduring. There were deals made, clothing removed, toe ties employed and subtle touches of many kinds...as she was put through sensory overload after overload. Ilene was ticklish everywhere, a fact that had escaped her attention for lo these many years, but which now was the focus of her universe for the next hour. We were friends, and though the Predator strove mightily to stray beyond boundaries, I forced my will upon him in a nearly complete fashion. I offered her a choice at the 45 minute mark...she could request either physical release, or release of a more sexual nature. Her decision was nearly instantaneous, and not that great a surprise to one who had driven her to her current state of "need", without resorting to betrayal of the unspoken rules of this game we played...
I sneered at the Predator, glorying in my moment of righteous semi ethical behavior, and strove mightily to repay Ilene for her patience and endurance in a manner that didn't compromise other vows I had taken many years ago...a glorious explosion whose intensity even mollified the Predator...she slumped upon her prison table thoroughly relieved and totally passive and relaxed despite the exertions she had been through.
Her physical release was almost anticlimatic, and we returned to the front, changed in relationship and yet actually more open with each other than ever before. We talked about many things, including the sheer power of the incident we had just experienced....the Predator now curled up and temporarily sated. It was the start of a mutual understanding that once again addressed 2 different needs... Q

So Many More...

That particular incident reminded me of one in my college days...a sweet young lady named Jacqueline. She was the theoretical girlfriend of my roommate, although unbeknownest to her he was quite homosexual and preparing to come "out"...a much bigger deal back in the early 70's than now in many ways. We had a bantering teasing relationship, and I always was on the verge of trying to let her know that she was in a doomed relationship, but the Predator held me back...he saw her as prey, weakened by her attachment to a man with no real interest in her. I continued to tease her, and we played silly practical jokes on each other as well..nothing destructive, more of the type you see in camp...shortsheeting and crumbled cookies and other sophisticated pranks..lol. I of course knew just how ticklish she was, which was VERY! The Predator, as always, constrained me in that area, not wanting to tip his hand too quickly. I passed up numerous seemingly golden opportunities...the powerful haze lurking behind my eyes insisting that appearances aside, it would wait...and continue to wait, until the moment was absolutely correct for a memorable scene. It was always an interesting battle of wills between my overmind, more interested in light playful tickling, and that red haze that wanted the victim incredibly helpless and searched for methods of extended torment...with the Predator usually triumphant and holding sway.
Some background on the dormitory we lived in...by now you know it was a co-ed dorm, and it so happened to be brand new and quite crowded. There were 4 wings in the building (called Governors Dorm, on the Amherst Campus, for any Buffalo members), and the setup was akin to a rat maze in both organization and complexity. Each wing was comprised of 3 floors of rabbit holes passing as rooms, in which there was a lounge area, with closeable soundproof door(duly noted by the Predator), that led to a hallway that contained 4 rooms, each housing 4 students. A room had one set of bunk beds and 2 other single beds, not stacked, as well as 3 (don't ask me...they built 'em) desks, not 4. A small fridge and the usual assortment of trunks and cheap stereo crap that all students favor. The lounge had a bad sofa and a small round table with 5 (to compensate for the lack of one desk?) chairs with wobbly legs. Most interaction took place in the dorm rooms themselves rather than this hellhole. It was the very early 70's...a time when free love reigned as the mores of the day, and in a coed dorm, it was a fine time to be a Predator indeed....

continued...

College Predator

One of the more common pranks of our day was "pennying" someones door shut...which consisted of jamming 3-4 pennies together into a door frame with a blunt hammer like instrument at 2 points about a third of the way up the door each, putting tremendous pressure on the lock mechanism and preventing it from turning even when unlocked...very effective for making an enemy late for a class or social event, since to get unstuck was a simple matter from the outside and nearly impossible from the inside. Best of all it fell wthin our financial budget in those days! Second most popular little trick was an event we called "matting" someone, usually the person stuck with the upper bunk, which was inevitably pushed next to a wall in every room to save space. to "mat" them, someone got beneath the victim, pushed upward rapidly and forcefully on the outer edge of the exposed upper mattress visible from below, flipping it onto it's edge and dumping the victim into a crevasse next to the wall....at which time 2 more accomplices completed the matting by turning the mattress fully upon the semi-trapped person, pinning them between the mattress and springs beneath, which were actually just a metallic set of straps....a bit painful and certainly quite a helpless position.

Oh you think so?..I heard you ALL think that, but you would be soooo wrong. Why settle for matting her? You have at least 3 other people around that most likely don't share your interest in tickling, and you might tip your hand for a mere few seconds of tickling and thereafter be whispered about by all present. This is the strength of the Predator...he saw all this and prevented me from exercising my natural urges as the situations developed each semester. Instead, I took great pains to never be matted and to rub that fact into Jackies conscious mind. I also perfected a "one man" matting technique, and showed it to her...it consisted of merely being quite quick to move from the shoving position to the "leverage" spot.

No no no! You're still thinking small, my fellow TK'ers! I showed it to her for another reason entirely, and even demonstrated it on her roommate (yes..another story..)who we tormented a bit in a purely playful fashion before releasing. Another few days go by, and I allow myself to be studying with Jacky in her room (tutoring her actually...her math was atrocious). I place myself upon the top bunk, carrying with me a few items that I conceal in my pockets. The Predator is on red alert now...shaking my body with adrenaline and poised to uncurl with lethal power and speed. She is slowly placing herself into proper lower bunk matting position....the door is locked, her roommates are home for the weekend and the dorm is nearly empty on this Friday night. I am outwardly oblivious to her actions, while inwardly no twitch of any leg of hers goes untracked.

Continued...

wow... love your stories.. you have a way with words

Wow...haven't finished this in 6 years...lol..talk about lazy! This was from my pre-mod days! I was reminded of it by someone in a PM.

I'll have to get back to this bit of writing soon.

Q