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LARP tickle torture (true)

Marauder

3rd Level Red Feather
Joined
Apr 17, 2001
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My most intense experience of true tickle torture

by Marauder

Let's first describe the setting. It happened on a LARP adventure. What is LARP you ask ? Easily explained, I say. It stands for Life Action Role Playing, and it's something like a blend of freestyle theater and a renfair. Loads of people gather at on place out in the wilderness, dressing up as warriors, princesses, elves, orcs, wizards or any other type of fantasy being. For the time of the adventure, mostly an entire weekend, they stay in character, having assigned themselves certain abilities, and act it out. Combat occurs at times, and is carried out with cushioned foam rubber weapons, or projectiles. It's fun, it's great recreation, it's mind-bogglingly expensive, and only freaks participate in it... Who else would want to be ripped from an uncomfortable sleep by screams of alarm in the middle of the night, stumble scarcely dressed out of his tent, shivering in the damp cold of the deepest night, to be pummeled with a huge rubber sword by another player portraying a monster, fall down, and lie for over an hour on the wet grass, risking a serious case of pneumonia ? But as I said, it's fun... if you're into that sort of thing. Enough explanation of the basics, now. The setting - a lonely house somewhere in the middle of nowhere, meadows and forests surrounding it, tents pitched everywhere, loads of strange people milling about, 'Thee'ing and 'Thou'ing at one another, acting out some inexplicable plot, but really only minding their own business. The time - summer 1999. The temperature - HOT ! Oh God, it was so horribly stuffy, you could fry eggs on the platemail some warriors had wisely discarded. And me ? It was my first time on a LARP. I enjoyed myself, portraying a peasant with no combat abilities whatsoever. It had been a few neat days, and it was now time to pack up and leave. I packed up and prepared to leave... And then it happened. Shrill shrieks of terror hit my ears like a crossbow bolt. I whipped around and saw what was happening. A group of people sat on a heap in the shade of one of the large trees close to the house, laughing and grinning maliciously, while in their midst, a form was struggling, held down by a multitude of arms... Of course, I went closer, risking a look, but already knowing what was happening. The poor girl was screaming at the top of her lungs, struggling in vain to escape, while many arms tickled her up and down... And then, just as I contemplated to maybe join the fun, or at least get a better look, the girl I had come to the LARP with approached me and forced me to leave. Not wanting to be standing there like an idiot, I obliged, silently cursing myself...
That would have been the end of it, and it would make a lousy story. However, as luck wanted it, I met the girl who had been so ruthlessly tickled again. Let me describe her for you...
I will call her Sonja. That's because it happens to be her name. She was eighteen years old when the incident took place. She is very short, barely reaching the 5' mark, and slender, though not skinny. She has a beautiful face with a definitely impish quality to it. At the time this story happened, her hair was short and blonde, just covering her ears. It's even shorter and black now. I can't describe her most compelling quality, though - she is radiating an unbearable sense of pure cuddliness, an intoxicatingly cute aura, that makes most everyone who sees her want to take her to bed... but not as a lover, rather like a furry animal to snuggle up with. She sure has a lot of sexy aspects, but one has to first get over the initial attack of warm fuzziness to notice them. Anyway, where was I... Oh yes ! I wanted to describe her ! Might as well add a few other things. First, she is DREADFULLY ticklish. I mean, this girl seems to have jumped straight out of my fantasies ! She is ticklish most everywhere, I wouldn't even assign any special spot to her, not that I had the opportunity to check thoroughly... yet. I have seen her barefoot on another LARP, when she came running screaming from out of the tent she shared with her (then) boyfriend, a close friend of mine, by the way. He had made a habit of tickling her regularly. Though she was so extremely sensitive to it, she tolerated it, even enjoyed it when done for short amounts of time... Underneath all that cuteness, she is pretty kinky ! So, she ran out of his tent, came into mine (I was dwelling in a rather large tent, enough room for ten in there), and complained about the 'Tickle Monster attack' that she'd just had to endure, sitting down on the carpet (yep, I am degenerate and decadent enough to put old carpets into my tents, so sue me !), and extended her legs... in my direction... barefoot... Okay, I thought, time to calm down, right ? I mean, I was sitting in my sleeping bag, and any moment something could happen that would require me to (gulp) get up... I would focus on her face, yep, looking very cute and pretty, blushed, eyes still a little swollen from sleep, hair all ruffled up, very cute indeed, and this nighty she's wearing really almost covers her body, uh huh, not semi transparent at all, or just a little... look at the eyes, I told myself, trying to follow what she was saying to divert my attention from following the beautiful, pert curves of her small body down the naked legs to the feet, bare soles pointed straight at me, toes flexing... I don't know if she's a size 5. I doubt it. These feet are probably even smaller. I felt like a pedophile staring at them. Baby soft, smooth, medium arches, short and minute toes, very delicate, even digits, too, the entire soles very pale all around, a little moist from running over the wet lawn... Oh damn, I was staring at her feet ! I forced myself to look away at the still flexing, very articulate toes and the slight wrinkles her display cast onto the tiny soles, back to her face, and strained to hear what she was saying... Nothing could get me to stand up at this point, no, I'd remain sitting here, very nice, yes... "...And then he tickled my feet. I really hate that !" is what she was saying. I know this sounds... very... strange... I couldn't believe it either. Damn. So I talked to her, and that's when I found out just how ticklish she really was. That my friend was the one who tickled her the most helped some, too, as he had his own share of stories to tell me about it. This incident happened about two months after the story I originally started, you know, the one with the real torture. However, it has nothing to do with it, just a little something to help tell the tale.
What I REALLY wanted to talk about happened half a year later. It was deep winter, and bitter cold. We had another LARP (natch) in an old shag far away from civilization, and we were all pretty drunk. Smashed, so to speak. I portrayed an Orc this time - that means I glued huge ears over my natural ones, had a rubber mouthpiece with prosthetic tusks that protruded from my lower jaw, wore a ramshackle collection of many layers of fur, leather and metal armor, walked with a pronounced sloop and talked in short, single-syllable worded sentences, grunting a lot. Sonja was playing a Kender. A Kender is a short (go figure) sort of half-elf, having small pointed ears and an always cheery disposition, wears lots and lots of little bells and other sources of constant jangling and jingling, and has the habit of considering anything found lying around his, or, in this case, her personal belonging. In other words, they are annoying as hell, while at the same time incredibly cute. See why she loves to play one ? She was sitting at the same table as me, when I suddenly noticed that my knife was missing. That really annoyed me. I wanted that knife back, and I wanted it back NOW. Looking around, I couldn't find it anywhere... then my questing gaze fell upon little Sonja, sitting there, sipping her mead, looking innocuous at the action around her, where people were chatting and laughing around the crackling fireplace while outside the snowflakes were just barely visible, drifting down slowly through the cold, dark night, illuminated by the warm glow of the candles and the fire... I addressed her in my best orcish voice. "HEY, KENDER ! WHERE BE KNIFE ?" She jumped and tried to shift away from me, finding that she was trapped between all those people surrounding us on the benches. The only way out for her would have been to jump across the table, and that was full of candles, bottles (empty, mostly, oh, my poor head...) and jugs and glasses. Not wanting to risk a fatal avalanche, she must have decided to bareface her way out of this predicament. "I don't know what you're talking about..." she shrugged, tilting her head in that special way that should be forbidden because it makes her look EVEN CUTER, oh damn... I was not to be put off that easily, though. Knife missing - Kender (read : petty thief) sitting besides me - case clear, right ? "Me Want Knife, Kender. Me Very Angry Else. You Give Back !" I grunted, closing in. She shrank back to the utmost limit of her freedom of movement, looking at the same time amused and comically scared. "I don't have it, really ! I promise !" she told me with innocent, wide eyes. Oh, those eyes... to drown in them... but I digress. Again. Sorry. "I Know You Got Knife ! Knife Mine ! Me No Have ! You Have ! You Give Me ! Now !" People were looking at us now, awaiting what lay ahead. This proved to be fun ! I know that Sonja and I were enjoying ourselves... When she continued to deny her possession of the knife, I simply couldn't resist anymore. With a swift motion, I wrapped my right arm (she was sitting to my right) around her, and pinched her in her right side with my hand, while my other hand dug into her left ribs. She curled up on the bench, lost in a barrage of cute giggles... I kept questioning her about the whereabouts of the knife, and she continued denying any knowledge of it between those cute giggles. I tickled her playfully on and off for about five minutes, doing my best impression of the dreaded spanish inquisition , and keeping her body rocking with this intoxicating, giggling laughter and spurting out denials... It was great fun, and I could sense she had no problem with it despite her obvious ticklishness, mainly because I left her arms free and always interrupted the tickling long enough for her to do something about it, like brushing my hands from her ribs. She never did... I found the knife on the floor, later, by the way. It had simply fallen down and skidded under one of the tabled. Oops ! The next morning I awoke with the mother and father of all hangovers, ready to procreate and conceive a whole army of little hangovers, in the cold, outside, in an open car, in the draft. But that's not the point. The point is this : before we went to sleep (we didn't sleep together, I've never had any sexual relationship with that woman, this I solemnly swear, so help me god, and I mean it), she told me what had happened on that fateful summer day, as the conversation had drifted to tickling once more after the inquisition interlude, and I finally asked her about it. This is what she told me :
"You know I was playing this Kender, right ? So, I'd had a pretty successful adventure, I found a lot of things and kept out of reach of the people who were somehow of the opinion that the stuff belonged to them. I was about to start packing, and then suddenly they pounced on me ! They must have planned this ! They wrestled me to the ground and then they said "It's payday..." and then they started to, you know, tickle me all over... It was really horrible, I tried to get away but they wouldn't let me ! At first, it was still fun, but then they kept it up for five minutes, and I couldn't breathe anymore ! So they let up, and I thought it was over... But then they took off my shoes and rolled down my socks, and they started again, complete with foot tickling this time, and they kept it up for another five minutes... it was really awful, and I started begging, but they just laughed... I hope they thought I was still 'In Character' and just faking the begging, because otherwise it would mean that they are real assholes. I tried to get them to stop, but I couldn't really tell them to, because every time they heard me starting to talk, they got to tickling again, saying that I must've had enough rest, and that the bill was far from paid... The tickled me like that for, I swear, a whole half hour at least, I was a wreck, let me tell you ! I was all cramped up, and could hardly talk, and my mouth was totally parched from the damn heat... Then they finally let me go, and I told them what I thought of them, and they seemed really terrified that it had been real torture for me, so I forgive them, because I'm such a nice person. But still, that half hour would be my personal description of hell. If I'm bad and die, I'll probably wake up underneath that tree with a lot of people piled up on me, just in time to feel them roll down my socks..."
I was very drunk. I could tell because I was still able to walk, or rather, stumble around after we said goodnight, following this account of what had transpired... Yet, it still gives me a lot to think about, even today. I have lost contact with Sonja right now, but I am desperately trying to reestablish it. I hope that one day we will be in bed together, not for sex or tickling, just for comfort... snuggled into each other's warmth, like two newborn kittens under their mother's belly, and simply fall asleep, each soothed by the other one's heartbeat...

Everything written in this tale is 100% true. I swear. The people are real, the feelings are genuine, and the action is not embellished. At all. Hope you enjoyed it !


If you liked this tale of ticklish torture, pay heed ! You can read more of my works, along with many other pieces of high quality fiction, in Tales From The Asylum, the ultimate resource for fiendish tickling fiction and art, and on the magazine's website -
http://www.MTJpub.com !
 
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well...

Nice tale. You're a lucky guy too bad you lost contact with her I feel sorry for you ): Too bad LARP isn't very 'in' in Belgium. Would love to play a Dark Knight.
 
A damn fine story!

I'd never read this one before. Thanks for sharing this with the community, Marauder. I hope you found Sonja and had the relationship you wanted. Any developement toward that since you posted this story?
 
We have stuff similar to that up here, I could join but I know there's not ickling involved. And the last time the people I know went out to do it most of them came back with poison ivy rashes.
 
Marauder i loved the way your sense of humour came to play in this story. and to think it was true makes it soo much better. one question however, were you ever able to contact her? she sounds too cute for words.

isabeau :bump: :bump: :bump: :bump: :bump: :bump: :bump: :bump:
 
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