RogueTickler
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Nov 24, 2001
- Messages
- 62
- Points
- 0
One of the things I love about tickling is the psychological factor. To have a pretty girl tied in a helpless position is awesome (feet up and bare, sides exposed, armpits vulnerable... yummy), but to be able to add psychological torture to the mix makes it truly special. I got to practice the psychological side of tickle torture a little bit when I was young, with my sister and our next door neighbor Susie as the (un)willing victims.
For a little background set-up of Susie and my sister, check out my previous post:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=62833
Susie was my favourite tickle-target, and my friend Ben loved getting my sister, so summer vacations were often spent playing games of 'Capture', which was really just an excuse for tying up the girls and tickling them silly. Over the course of several games of 'Capture', our methods of tickle torture became more refined and more devious - and probably the reason why the girls soon refused to partake in the fun. The sessions we had towards the end were pretty classic... and pretty sadistic, if I do say so myself. The session I always think about occurred one rainy summer day. My parents were both at work, and Susie and my sister were upstairs in her room reading magazines and stuff. I poked my head in to the room to say hello, and happily noticed that both girls were lying on their stomachs with their bare feet in the air, ankles crossed. Susie was wearing shorts and my sister was wearing jeans. I joked around with them for a bit and then told them I was going downstairs for a bit. Little did they know that Ben was in the basement, and we were preparing some 'special' suprises for the girls.
We had decided that we needed to add a little more 'spice' to the tickling sessions, so Ben and I came up with a couple of new devices. 'The Recliner' was exactly that - an old leather recliner that layed back and extended when you pulled the lever. Taking our inspiration from a medieval torture rack, we really wanted something that could stretch out our victim at our will. 'The Recliner' was perfect - we bolted some rings underneath the footboard, and into the back close to the headrest (it was old and in my basement, so my parents didn't care what we did to it). Believe it or not, Ben was also able to add a seat-belt by stringing it through the bottom - I don't know how he did it, but it worked great Thus, 'The Recliner' was born! The second device we had was called 'The Chair', and it was an old wooden chair with a high-back and thick legs. The chair was actually perfect for tying someone to it, as it was very solid and had lots of crossbeams to connect the rope to (as well as body parts). Our main addition to 'The Chair' were several packing straps that had buckles on them (yay Scouts!). We had several different lengths that wrapped around different points of the chair to ensure our victim would be totally tickle-helpless. Satisfied that our 'torture chamber' was in order, we began devising a plan to have the girls 'test-out' the new equipment. Since it was raining, challenging the girls to a typical game of 'Capture' was not happening since they always wanted to play outside - more places to hide and evade, I guess. So, Ben and I decided to treat it like a witch-hunt: we would accuse Susie of spreading rumours about us and tickle torture her until she confessed and told us what she had said. We would use my sister as leverage - if Susie didn't want to talk, then my sister would get tickle-punished until some lips were loosened!
Game plan in hand, we set about putting it into motion. Ben and I went into the living room where the girls were now listening to records. Feigning annoyance, I said, 'Hey Susie, I heard that you were saying some stuff about me and Ben. What did you say?!'. Susie, thinking it was a joke, replied, 'Wouldn't you like to know?'. I assured Susie that I wasn't joking and wanted to know the nasty things she was saying about us. She replied that she didn't know what we were talking about and tried to brush us off. I gave her one more chance to confess her sins: 'Either you tell us what you said, or we'll MAKE you tell us!'. Susie's reply? 'Get lost!!'. Ben looked at me with a smile and said, 'I guess we'll have to tickle it out of them!'. When the girls heard this, they panicked and tried to bolt. A struggle ensued for a good 10 minutes that involved a crazy chase around the living room couch, some wrestling (those girls were pretty strong!) and some arm scratches (we'd return the favour later - on the soles of their feet). Exhausted, we were able to tie the girl's arms behind their backs and lead them, panting and defeated, to the depths of our basement, where the torture chamber awaited.
We really wanted to surprise the girls with our new toys, so when we got to the bottom of the stairs, we whipped out some blind-folds and tied them snuggly around the girls' heads. I expected protest, but instead was greeted with an, 'oh... great!'. Sarcasm. It would HAVE to be punished out of them! Our victims were now blind and tied, so we pushed them into the room which would soon fill with glorious laughter. We took Susie and sat her down on 'The Chair'. We left her hands tied behind her back and began strapping her ankles to the chair's front legs - one ankle to each leg. We then took some more straps and wrapped them around her shins, below her knees. We put a long strap around her lap, so she was securely fastened to the seat. We then took her bound wrists and connected them to another rope which we fastened to a bar running between the back legs. Finally, we put a strap across her upper chest which held her firm to the chair's wooden back. When we finished, Susie tried to squirm loose, but discovered (to our delight) that she could only wiggle around a tiny bit. Frustrated, Susie continued to struggle as Ben and I went to tie up my sister. We led her to 'The Recliner' and sat her down. We tied her ankles together and fastened the rope to the ring underneath the footrest, leaving a tiny bit of slack. We fastened her seat-belt and then untied her wrists. We crossed them and tied them together in front of her. We pulled her arms over her head and fastened the rope to the ring behind the headrest. Ben 'accidently' let his fingers brush my sister's underarms and she let out a screech. The girls were now securely tied and ready for some tickling!
We decided to interrogate Susie first. Ben stood behind 'The Chair' and rested his hands on the top of the backrest. I, as lead interrogator, took my position in front of the helpless, vulnerable and blind-folded Susie and said one word:
TALK!
One of the things I always loved about Susie was that she had a real defiant streak in her that would always show up whenever she was challenged - no matter the situation. True to form, Susie pursed her lips tightly together and shook her head. I cued Ben and he jerked the chair backwards, to Susie's gasping suprise. Caught off guard, and bare feet now off the ground, I began tickling Susie's sensitive soles which began to spasm wildly as my nails (which I had let grow) scritched and scratched across her soft foot bottoms. Susie could only laugh wildly and struggle, as her head pitched forward and back. I kept up the tickling for a good 3 minutes then stopped suddenly. Still being tilted backwards by Ben, I asked Susie the 'question' again: 'Will you tell us what you said?' Susie was panting heavily from the assault on her feet, but the defiance rose to another level. 'Get lost!!!', she hissed back. Without responding, I renewed the tickle attack on her feet, this time digging into the in-steps and underneath the toes - two of Susie's worst spots. Susie quickly achieved silent laughter, and I let her suffer this way for a few long minutes. Sensing she was running out of breath, I stopped the tickling and motioned for Ben to let her down. The chair tilted forward, placing her soles back on the carpet, and she slumped forward slightly due to exhaustion from the torture. Deciding that Susie needed a rest, Ben and I turned our attention to my sister (who was waiting oh-so patiently for her turn to laugh) and Ben said, 'Well, if you won't TALK, then we'll tickle Jennifer until you do!'. Hearing that, my sister began to struggle, yell for help and beg for mercy. Ben walked over to her and gave her feet a short tickle, while I poked her ribs and armpits a little. My sister tried to curl up and squirm away from the tickling, but the slack we had left in the ropes didn't afford her much room to move. 'Gee', Ben said, as he lightly dotted my sister's soles, making her giggle and struggle, 'you're pretty ticklish, Jen! Imagine if you were totally stretched out and tickled... now THAT would be real torture!' Suddenly, I pulled the lever of 'The Recliner' and my sister was stretched taut, wrists crossed and over her head, ankles bound together and stretched in the opposite direction. Ben and I then began a torturous session of 'mis-direction'. Blind-folded as she was, my sister had no idea where she was going to be tickled or when, so we began announcing our intentions - only to mis-direct them. We would say, 'Time for your FEET', and then run our fingers over her under-arms, or 'Are your ribs ticklish?', and then grab her knees. Sometimes we would tickle her where we announced, but we would pause a little before moving in... just to let the anticipation get her. Underarms were great for this: 'I'm going to tickle your arm-pits, Jen! Ready? Here I come... Ready? I'm getting closer! Why are you laughing? I haven't even touched you yet!' - then we'd dive in and drive her insane. This torture method really messed my sister up, as she would be in continuous hysterical laughter, even when we weren't touching her. Towards the end of the session, my sister had pretty much given up hope and just lay there limp, laughing and panting.
Susie was feeling neglected so Ben and I went back to her and gave her knees and ribs a little work-over. She yipped and yelped until finally she said, 'OK! OK! I'll tell you! Anything! Just PLEASE NO MORE!' We removed Susie's blindfold and, once her eyes adjusted, she stared at us with a look of frustration and desperation. 'Please untie me!', she begged. 'We'll untie you if you tell us what we want to know', I replied. Susie paused, searching for the answer that would free her and said, 'I... I don't know, BUT WAIT!!! (Ben had tilted the chair back again when she went into 'denial-mode'. The bottoms of her feet were now facing me, toes flexed upwards) WAIT, WAIT!!! I want to tell you but I'm not sure what you want to hear! Please!' I shook my head sadly and told her the only option I had was to tickle torture her with my 'special weapon'. From behind my back, I revealed a plastic hairbrush which I held up and waved in front of Susie's confused face. She didn't know what a plastic hairbrush could do, so I showed her by scraping it across the bottom of her right foot. Susie went berserk and laughed hard (no! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Staahp!) I used my free hand to tickle Susie's other foot, and Ben joined in the fun by leaning over the chair and using one hand to tickle her ribs and underarm. We really worked Susie over and finally had to stop when she went into a coughing fit. Ben tilted the chair back down and we stepped back as Susie tried to catch her breath. When she finally did, she was PISSED OFF! She demanded to be untied, so we quickly loosened the ropes and straps. Susie punched Ben hard on the shoulder and threw the plastic hairbrush at me (she missed!). Then she stormed out of the basement/torture chamber, slammed the door behind her and went home.
Feeling a little sheepish, Ben and I freed my sister, who was tired but not angry, and gathered up all our ropes and stuff - the parents would be home soon. Later that night, I went over to Susie's house to apologize. Her mother answered the door and told me she was in her bedroom. She let me in and I slowly went up to Susie's room and lightly knocked on her door. A few seconds later, Susie opened it, saw it was me, and menacingly squinted her eyes at me. 'Sorry', was all I could muster. She shook her head, sighed and opened up the bedroom door to let me in. We spent the rest of the night listening to records and talking (and she kept her socks on!)
Even though that was the last time Susie and I would play 'Capture' together, thankfully, it wouldn't be the last time I would get to tickle those cute little feet of hers. High School would present a few glorious opportunities... but those are other stories for other times.
cheers all
For a little background set-up of Susie and my sister, check out my previous post:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=62833
Susie was my favourite tickle-target, and my friend Ben loved getting my sister, so summer vacations were often spent playing games of 'Capture', which was really just an excuse for tying up the girls and tickling them silly. Over the course of several games of 'Capture', our methods of tickle torture became more refined and more devious - and probably the reason why the girls soon refused to partake in the fun. The sessions we had towards the end were pretty classic... and pretty sadistic, if I do say so myself. The session I always think about occurred one rainy summer day. My parents were both at work, and Susie and my sister were upstairs in her room reading magazines and stuff. I poked my head in to the room to say hello, and happily noticed that both girls were lying on their stomachs with their bare feet in the air, ankles crossed. Susie was wearing shorts and my sister was wearing jeans. I joked around with them for a bit and then told them I was going downstairs for a bit. Little did they know that Ben was in the basement, and we were preparing some 'special' suprises for the girls.
We had decided that we needed to add a little more 'spice' to the tickling sessions, so Ben and I came up with a couple of new devices. 'The Recliner' was exactly that - an old leather recliner that layed back and extended when you pulled the lever. Taking our inspiration from a medieval torture rack, we really wanted something that could stretch out our victim at our will. 'The Recliner' was perfect - we bolted some rings underneath the footboard, and into the back close to the headrest (it was old and in my basement, so my parents didn't care what we did to it). Believe it or not, Ben was also able to add a seat-belt by stringing it through the bottom - I don't know how he did it, but it worked great Thus, 'The Recliner' was born! The second device we had was called 'The Chair', and it was an old wooden chair with a high-back and thick legs. The chair was actually perfect for tying someone to it, as it was very solid and had lots of crossbeams to connect the rope to (as well as body parts). Our main addition to 'The Chair' were several packing straps that had buckles on them (yay Scouts!). We had several different lengths that wrapped around different points of the chair to ensure our victim would be totally tickle-helpless. Satisfied that our 'torture chamber' was in order, we began devising a plan to have the girls 'test-out' the new equipment. Since it was raining, challenging the girls to a typical game of 'Capture' was not happening since they always wanted to play outside - more places to hide and evade, I guess. So, Ben and I decided to treat it like a witch-hunt: we would accuse Susie of spreading rumours about us and tickle torture her until she confessed and told us what she had said. We would use my sister as leverage - if Susie didn't want to talk, then my sister would get tickle-punished until some lips were loosened!
Game plan in hand, we set about putting it into motion. Ben and I went into the living room where the girls were now listening to records. Feigning annoyance, I said, 'Hey Susie, I heard that you were saying some stuff about me and Ben. What did you say?!'. Susie, thinking it was a joke, replied, 'Wouldn't you like to know?'. I assured Susie that I wasn't joking and wanted to know the nasty things she was saying about us. She replied that she didn't know what we were talking about and tried to brush us off. I gave her one more chance to confess her sins: 'Either you tell us what you said, or we'll MAKE you tell us!'. Susie's reply? 'Get lost!!'. Ben looked at me with a smile and said, 'I guess we'll have to tickle it out of them!'. When the girls heard this, they panicked and tried to bolt. A struggle ensued for a good 10 minutes that involved a crazy chase around the living room couch, some wrestling (those girls were pretty strong!) and some arm scratches (we'd return the favour later - on the soles of their feet). Exhausted, we were able to tie the girl's arms behind their backs and lead them, panting and defeated, to the depths of our basement, where the torture chamber awaited.
We really wanted to surprise the girls with our new toys, so when we got to the bottom of the stairs, we whipped out some blind-folds and tied them snuggly around the girls' heads. I expected protest, but instead was greeted with an, 'oh... great!'. Sarcasm. It would HAVE to be punished out of them! Our victims were now blind and tied, so we pushed them into the room which would soon fill with glorious laughter. We took Susie and sat her down on 'The Chair'. We left her hands tied behind her back and began strapping her ankles to the chair's front legs - one ankle to each leg. We then took some more straps and wrapped them around her shins, below her knees. We put a long strap around her lap, so she was securely fastened to the seat. We then took her bound wrists and connected them to another rope which we fastened to a bar running between the back legs. Finally, we put a strap across her upper chest which held her firm to the chair's wooden back. When we finished, Susie tried to squirm loose, but discovered (to our delight) that she could only wiggle around a tiny bit. Frustrated, Susie continued to struggle as Ben and I went to tie up my sister. We led her to 'The Recliner' and sat her down. We tied her ankles together and fastened the rope to the ring underneath the footrest, leaving a tiny bit of slack. We fastened her seat-belt and then untied her wrists. We crossed them and tied them together in front of her. We pulled her arms over her head and fastened the rope to the ring behind the headrest. Ben 'accidently' let his fingers brush my sister's underarms and she let out a screech. The girls were now securely tied and ready for some tickling!
We decided to interrogate Susie first. Ben stood behind 'The Chair' and rested his hands on the top of the backrest. I, as lead interrogator, took my position in front of the helpless, vulnerable and blind-folded Susie and said one word:
TALK!
One of the things I always loved about Susie was that she had a real defiant streak in her that would always show up whenever she was challenged - no matter the situation. True to form, Susie pursed her lips tightly together and shook her head. I cued Ben and he jerked the chair backwards, to Susie's gasping suprise. Caught off guard, and bare feet now off the ground, I began tickling Susie's sensitive soles which began to spasm wildly as my nails (which I had let grow) scritched and scratched across her soft foot bottoms. Susie could only laugh wildly and struggle, as her head pitched forward and back. I kept up the tickling for a good 3 minutes then stopped suddenly. Still being tilted backwards by Ben, I asked Susie the 'question' again: 'Will you tell us what you said?' Susie was panting heavily from the assault on her feet, but the defiance rose to another level. 'Get lost!!!', she hissed back. Without responding, I renewed the tickle attack on her feet, this time digging into the in-steps and underneath the toes - two of Susie's worst spots. Susie quickly achieved silent laughter, and I let her suffer this way for a few long minutes. Sensing she was running out of breath, I stopped the tickling and motioned for Ben to let her down. The chair tilted forward, placing her soles back on the carpet, and she slumped forward slightly due to exhaustion from the torture. Deciding that Susie needed a rest, Ben and I turned our attention to my sister (who was waiting oh-so patiently for her turn to laugh) and Ben said, 'Well, if you won't TALK, then we'll tickle Jennifer until you do!'. Hearing that, my sister began to struggle, yell for help and beg for mercy. Ben walked over to her and gave her feet a short tickle, while I poked her ribs and armpits a little. My sister tried to curl up and squirm away from the tickling, but the slack we had left in the ropes didn't afford her much room to move. 'Gee', Ben said, as he lightly dotted my sister's soles, making her giggle and struggle, 'you're pretty ticklish, Jen! Imagine if you were totally stretched out and tickled... now THAT would be real torture!' Suddenly, I pulled the lever of 'The Recliner' and my sister was stretched taut, wrists crossed and over her head, ankles bound together and stretched in the opposite direction. Ben and I then began a torturous session of 'mis-direction'. Blind-folded as she was, my sister had no idea where she was going to be tickled or when, so we began announcing our intentions - only to mis-direct them. We would say, 'Time for your FEET', and then run our fingers over her under-arms, or 'Are your ribs ticklish?', and then grab her knees. Sometimes we would tickle her where we announced, but we would pause a little before moving in... just to let the anticipation get her. Underarms were great for this: 'I'm going to tickle your arm-pits, Jen! Ready? Here I come... Ready? I'm getting closer! Why are you laughing? I haven't even touched you yet!' - then we'd dive in and drive her insane. This torture method really messed my sister up, as she would be in continuous hysterical laughter, even when we weren't touching her. Towards the end of the session, my sister had pretty much given up hope and just lay there limp, laughing and panting.
Susie was feeling neglected so Ben and I went back to her and gave her knees and ribs a little work-over. She yipped and yelped until finally she said, 'OK! OK! I'll tell you! Anything! Just PLEASE NO MORE!' We removed Susie's blindfold and, once her eyes adjusted, she stared at us with a look of frustration and desperation. 'Please untie me!', she begged. 'We'll untie you if you tell us what we want to know', I replied. Susie paused, searching for the answer that would free her and said, 'I... I don't know, BUT WAIT!!! (Ben had tilted the chair back again when she went into 'denial-mode'. The bottoms of her feet were now facing me, toes flexed upwards) WAIT, WAIT!!! I want to tell you but I'm not sure what you want to hear! Please!' I shook my head sadly and told her the only option I had was to tickle torture her with my 'special weapon'. From behind my back, I revealed a plastic hairbrush which I held up and waved in front of Susie's confused face. She didn't know what a plastic hairbrush could do, so I showed her by scraping it across the bottom of her right foot. Susie went berserk and laughed hard (no! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Staahp!) I used my free hand to tickle Susie's other foot, and Ben joined in the fun by leaning over the chair and using one hand to tickle her ribs and underarm. We really worked Susie over and finally had to stop when she went into a coughing fit. Ben tilted the chair back down and we stepped back as Susie tried to catch her breath. When she finally did, she was PISSED OFF! She demanded to be untied, so we quickly loosened the ropes and straps. Susie punched Ben hard on the shoulder and threw the plastic hairbrush at me (she missed!). Then she stormed out of the basement/torture chamber, slammed the door behind her and went home.
Feeling a little sheepish, Ben and I freed my sister, who was tired but not angry, and gathered up all our ropes and stuff - the parents would be home soon. Later that night, I went over to Susie's house to apologize. Her mother answered the door and told me she was in her bedroom. She let me in and I slowly went up to Susie's room and lightly knocked on her door. A few seconds later, Susie opened it, saw it was me, and menacingly squinted her eyes at me. 'Sorry', was all I could muster. She shook her head, sighed and opened up the bedroom door to let me in. We spent the rest of the night listening to records and talking (and she kept her socks on!)
Even though that was the last time Susie and I would play 'Capture' together, thankfully, it wouldn't be the last time I would get to tickle those cute little feet of hers. High School would present a few glorious opportunities... but those are other stories for other times.
cheers all
