My older sister and I were quite inventive. Probably from boredom, and living out in the country with no neighbors. When we were home from college in the summer, we made our own fun. We had tickle fights that started with chasing, and whoever won got to be the tickler. We were pretty evenly matched, so it was never a given who would be on the receiving end. When I won, I got to watch her face as I sat on her and tickled her with everything from a blade of grass to a small branch with new maple leaves, or a pussy willow soft and feathery. Her face would contort, she would try to resist but her peals of laughter were music to my ears. That was my signal I had won! I gave her mercy only when she couldn’t catch her breath, and it became silent laughter.
When she won the chase, she would tie my hands behind my back and march me in front of her, inside to the tickle machine we had created. Rules are rules and I had to endure. The chair was soft, and the ottoman placed so my feet were extended straight before me. She tied my ankles together with yarn, and then blindfolded me.
The sound of the electric fan would start up. It was an oscillating mini-fan, no protective cover, it had been removed. There were various speeds, but “very slow” was the most torturous. On each blade we had secured a variety of household items we thought would serve the purpose-a pink feather from a feather duster, a piece of twine frayed on the ends, and flopping over the chosen body part. I mock screamed in resistance. This would soon turn into real screaming today.
“OK, Marci, be careful, I’m scared!” I begged.
Dead silence. I tried to wiggle my head and see under the blindfold, no good. I felt my sandals come off. My shirt was pushed up to expose my belly. My shorts were unbuttoned, and pulled down just enough for the rest of my belly to be exposed. I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please tickle me!” I couldn’t tolerate the waiting any longer.
The fan was on the floor; two hands took my feet and guided them to the device. My feet were tender and soft from wearing shoes all the school year and just the breeze caused me to giggle. Then the real tickling began. I was tormented by her silence; I was laughing and squealing, begging when I could catch my breath for her to stop.
“She hasn’t had enough yet.” A male voice in the room, the shock almost made me pee!
“Marci, who is it? Who’s there?!!”
Silence from my sister, but now two more hands were pushing me forward in the chair, two rougher strong male hands. They untied my wrists. My hands were held over my head and my shirt was slipped off. My armpits were exposed and then I was dying of anticipation. The fingers in my armpits, started wiggling, I laughed and squirmed. I wiggled into the fan. Tears were caught in the blindfold.
“It’s OK, Anna, this will only take a minute, your shorts are just in the way” Marci finally spoke.
My shorts were pulled down and the tickling started down there. The tickling of my thighs and my armpits were making me wild. The tickle machine on my feet was making me writhe and twist with helplessness. I laughed, I giggled and moaned. I finally caught my breath and screamed. I felt a weird hot pleasure between my thighs; I collapsed in almost a faint.
“OK, she’s had enough”. The male voice said.
My shirt was replaced gently. My hands were kissed. My shorts and shoes gently slipped back on and my feet were untied. Lastly the blindfold came off. I had forgotten our cousin Tyler was home from college too, had come by to do farm chores, and would be there all summer.
“Gotta get back to work, see you again soon, sweet ladies”.
When she won the chase, she would tie my hands behind my back and march me in front of her, inside to the tickle machine we had created. Rules are rules and I had to endure. The chair was soft, and the ottoman placed so my feet were extended straight before me. She tied my ankles together with yarn, and then blindfolded me.
The sound of the electric fan would start up. It was an oscillating mini-fan, no protective cover, it had been removed. There were various speeds, but “very slow” was the most torturous. On each blade we had secured a variety of household items we thought would serve the purpose-a pink feather from a feather duster, a piece of twine frayed on the ends, and flopping over the chosen body part. I mock screamed in resistance. This would soon turn into real screaming today.
“OK, Marci, be careful, I’m scared!” I begged.
Dead silence. I tried to wiggle my head and see under the blindfold, no good. I felt my sandals come off. My shirt was pushed up to expose my belly. My shorts were unbuttoned, and pulled down just enough for the rest of my belly to be exposed. I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please tickle me!” I couldn’t tolerate the waiting any longer.
The fan was on the floor; two hands took my feet and guided them to the device. My feet were tender and soft from wearing shoes all the school year and just the breeze caused me to giggle. Then the real tickling began. I was tormented by her silence; I was laughing and squealing, begging when I could catch my breath for her to stop.
“She hasn’t had enough yet.” A male voice in the room, the shock almost made me pee!
“Marci, who is it? Who’s there?!!”
Silence from my sister, but now two more hands were pushing me forward in the chair, two rougher strong male hands. They untied my wrists. My hands were held over my head and my shirt was slipped off. My armpits were exposed and then I was dying of anticipation. The fingers in my armpits, started wiggling, I laughed and squirmed. I wiggled into the fan. Tears were caught in the blindfold.
“It’s OK, Anna, this will only take a minute, your shorts are just in the way” Marci finally spoke.
My shorts were pulled down and the tickling started down there. The tickling of my thighs and my armpits were making me wild. The tickle machine on my feet was making me writhe and twist with helplessness. I laughed, I giggled and moaned. I finally caught my breath and screamed. I felt a weird hot pleasure between my thighs; I collapsed in almost a faint.
“OK, she’s had enough”. The male voice said.
My shirt was replaced gently. My hands were kissed. My shorts and shoes gently slipped back on and my feet were untied. Lastly the blindfold came off. I had forgotten our cousin Tyler was home from college too, had come by to do farm chores, and would be there all summer.
“Gotta get back to work, see you again soon, sweet ladies”.
