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Tickling in books

You know, I don't know if the people who answer questions like these are too naive to know they're being asked by fetishists, or they're just cool about it and take it in stride... XD
 
Wow, this thread has been a big hit. It just keeps getting bumped back up!

And every it gets bumped, I think of another tickling scene in a book I read.

In one of Shel Silverstein's books, he included a poem about a kid named Ticklish Tom. It starts off something like "Here's the story of Ticklish Tom, He got tickled by his mom . . . " Basically, his mom tickles him and he laughs and rolls around out in the streets. Not sure how much into Mom/Son tickling everyone is, but it's a tickling scene in a book.
 
arachnid95 said:
You know, I don't know if the people who answer questions like these are too naive to know they're being asked by fetishists, or they're just cool about it and take it in stride... XD
Click to expand...

My guess is, knowing comic book fans, they know exactly what is going on. Since it may be annoying but harmless, they humor those well-behaved and count on their money and word-of-mouth so that everyone is happy.
 
I remember there were descriptions of tickling scenes in Danielle Steeles's book Hearbeat. There's a description of this guy's two sons tickling the main character because they liked her. There's another scene where the main character is camping with her boyfriend and two sons & they're all sleeping a tickle and they all have a tickle fight. I do remember that a lot of the Goosebumps series books do have a lot of tickling scenes in them.
 
I recall reading Bram Stoker's novel Dracula as a pre-adolescent and being mesmerized by a certain passage where three beautiful vampiresses approach a male victim who feels a mixture of helplessness, fear, and desire. I read it over and over. It was before my actual awareness of sexuality as such. The passage fascinated me in a way I didn't yet understand. The passage is sexually charged in a Victorian/Gothic way. It wasn't the brief mention of tickling that specifically engaged me at the time, but now that I'm exploring the tickling world I wonder if perhaps there was a latent tickling fetish waiting to be realized. Perhaps my fetishized interest in tickling is attributable to this connection made at just the right time in my developmental years; it is the earliest I can recall at any rate.

The passage relates how Jonathan Harker disregards Count Dracula's warning to sleep only in his own chamber of the castle. Harker sleeps in another chamber, and upon waking he realizes...

"I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged in any way since I came into it. I could see along the floor, in the brilliant moonlight, my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the long accumulation of dust. In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw no shadow on the floor. They came close to me, and looked at me for some time, and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain, but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head coquettishly, and the other two urged her on.

One said, "Go on! You are first, and we shall follow. Yours is the right to begin."

The other added, "He is young and strong. There are kisses for us all."

I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.

I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart."
 
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Long ago one Russian geologist wrote a sci-fi novel. The story goes that allegedly a small land was discovered near the North Pole, where tropical climate was possible due to geothermal activity. A small party of brave explorers reached there and could study the local tribes’ quaint habits. There is one surprisingly long and detailed description of a peculiar scene in the book, taken right from ticklephile’s dreams:

After having some rest, the women sat down in a large semicircle behind the fire, opposite to the travelers, and commenced a game: one on the right flank slapped her neighbor’s back with her left hand, crying out “First!”; she did the same to her neighbor to the left crying out “Second!”; so the wave of slaps rolled further up to the left flank; if some of them strayed from the account she was hit from all sides with everyone laughing. From the left flank the wave of slaps, made just by the opposite hands, went back, once again started with first, and at the middle of the semicircle crossed with the new one, going from the right; so it was easy to stray from the account, which gave rise to frequent scrimmages only to mutual delight. When they got bored with this fun, they went to another: the women squatted down holding their arms in front of them, as well as stretching their right legs to the fire, and then quickly pulled them back to protrude their left ones; if someone delayed or extended the wrong leg, her neighbors toppled her over to her back, so everyone laughed while both her legs jerked in the air. That game so livened up the women, that soon they started to topple each other without any reason, and it ended up that all of them were lying on the ground, with their legs to the fire, and laughing.
“All that dances and games,” Gorjunov noticed, “is a perfect gym to stretch one’s limbs, numb with long sitting during the lingering polar night.”
“Yes, men go hunting, shepherd the deer, chop the firewood, but women are bound to housework at the huts.” Ordin confirmed.
“They call the first game ‘the necklace’, and the second is ‘the frogs’; there is as well the third one, ‘the trial’, and it’s quieter,” Gorohov said, and added, addressing to the women: “Show us ‘the trial’!”
The women sat back on their places.
“Who of us remained to be the patient one since last winter?” the question was asked. “You, Annu?”
“I am!” Annuen confirmed.
“And so am I in my tribe!” Annuir asserted.
“You are a newcomer here, and you should be tested first, if it is true that you are the patient one. So lie down to be the first,” the women decided.
A sheepskin rug was brought in and placed not far from the fire in the center of the semicircle, and Annuir lay stretched out face up on it. Annuen took a bowl, filled it with water to the brim and placed it on the belly of the lying girl, then crouched down at her feet and began to tickle her soles. Other women started off counting aloud. The trial demanded that the lying contestant must keep herself quite motionless in spite of all the tickling, holding back even her breath, that not a single drop of water would be spilt from the bowl, until a count of ten. Despite Onkilons’ feet were calloused with walking barefoot, only few could endure the trial, especially that the women deliberately were counting very slowly. The one went though was given the title of the patient one and the right to tickle feet of all non-patients.
This time Annuir failed – and burst out laughing at count of nine; but her rival in love tickled her really hard.
“So you lied!” she gloated. “You have never been the patient one!”
“Maybe you haven’t as well?” Annuir objected angrily.
“Others know it! And if you don't believe, you can test me with even greater patience.” Anuen answered proudly.
“Yes, she can even that!” others confirmed.
“Come on, Annuen, show it!” Ordin said.
Annuen swap places with Annuir, while she filled the bowl and placed it above her stomach right under her breasts, and started to tickle her belly around the navel – the most sensitive place. But Annuen was like a stone and stood the test.
“Try to stand that!” she taunted her while standing up and threw out all the water right in Annuir face.
That was the privilege of the ones endured the big trial; Annuir just wiped herself quietly and moved away ashamed.
Women lay down one by one, and Annuen make each of them laugh: some earlier, some later, and thoroughly splashed them with water before they could stand up, amusing others.
Those who failed then dried themselves at the fire and laughed, watching others ending the same. Among the women only one has endured, and when all of them passed through the trial, Annuir wished to be tested one more time but only by the new patient one. Annuen objected, but others, knowing their rivalry, decided that Annuir can demand the repeat, since she used to be the patient one. Annuir chose the big trial and bravely endured it, but didn’t use her right to splash the girl who tickled her. Oh, if only it was Annuen at her place! She would get the whole bowl of water!
“Well, now you have two extra-patient brides here!” Gorjunov congratulated Odrin.
“And both of them are jealous!” Kostjiakov added.
“It’s all in the day’s work,” Ordin laughed, pleased that Annuir restored her reputation.

The book is “Sannikov Land” by V.A.Obruchev, 1926. Later on a movie based on that novel was filmed, but all the tickling games were totally omitted – it’s a pity, otherwise it would be a great wide-screen tickling video. This is how those fictional Onkilon tribal girls looked like in the movie:
1.jpg
2.jpg
3.jpg
4.jpg
 
There's a Girl in my Hammerlock. Has a brief but nice */f tickling scene.
 
Leshy said:
I recall reading Bram Stoker's novel Dracula as a pre-adolescent and being mesmerized by a certain passage where three beautiful vampiresses approach a male victim who feels a mixture of helplessness, fear, and desire. I read it over and over. It was before my actual awareness of sexuality as such. The passage fascinated me in a way I didn't yet understand. The passage is sexually charged in a Victorian/Gothic way. It wasn't the brief mention of tickling that specifically engaged me at the time, but now that I'm exploring the tickling world I wonder if perhaps there was a latent tickling fetish waiting to be realized. Perhaps my fetishized interest in tickling is attributable to this connection made at just the right time in my developmental years; it is the earliest I can recall at any rate.

The passage relates how Jonathan Harker disregards Count Dracula's warning to sleep only in his own chamber of the castle. Harker sleeps in another chamber, and upon waking he realizes...

"I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged in any way since I came into it. I could see along the floor, in the brilliant moonlight, my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the long accumulation of dust. In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw no shadow on the floor. They came close to me, and looked at me for some time, and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain, but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head coquettishly, and the other two urged her on.

One said, "Go on! You are first, and we shall follow. Yours is the right to begin."

The other added, "He is young and strong. There are kisses for us all."

I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.

I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart."
Click to expand...


that was AWESOME! thanks for posting this what beautiful prose. not into vampires even but this leaves me wanting more..
 
Jack Torrance tickles Wendy at the end of a chapter of "The Shining". As a 12 or 13 year old reading that book, I could not believe my eyes when I got to that part, lol!

In Pamela Des Barres' "I'm with The Band" she mentions having her foot tickled by Wally Cox when she was a dancer at Danceland. Shirley MacLaine also describes a savage tickling she received in her autobiography. Lenny Bruce mentions that his wife, the gorgeous Honey Bruce, was "the most ticklish person I've ever met." and went on to expound about it!
 
T-Lord said:
Robert Heinlein books also occasionally mention tickling. At least one book (maybe Time Enough For Love) has several references, including one time a chapter ends with a hottie squealing, "Don't tickle!" and a strong implication that this was heading into the bedroom ;)
Click to expand...


Yes, that's at the end of an early chapter in Time Enough For Love. And Heinlein gives other indications that his typically lusty and highly-sexed female characters are ticklers too. I can find the following:

In the aptly-named chapter "Bacchanalia", the hero, Lazarus, makes a comment which his live-wire cloned twin daughters find impudent and they say:

"I see; he's at it again - "
" - so we'll tickle him - "
" - and blow in his ears - "
" - until he cries Pax - "
" - and promises Veritas - "
" - he's no problem. Come on, Lazi." (Ensuing scene is not described.)

In the following chapter, a character says "Sorry, sir" to Lazarus, who mocks his formality by replying: "Call me 'sir' and I'll get the twins to tickle you."

The other references I found are in Heinlein's novel To Sail Beyond the Sunset. I find most of his books thoroughly entertaining but this one, narrated by Lazarus's mother Maureen, hits a cringe-makingly self-conscious tone as this incredibly sexually-active woman relentlessly bangs on in great detail about how sexually frank and open she has been throughout her long life, describing her encounters in clunking dialogue and coy language that for me only succeed in being a complete turn-off. Nevertheless, she is a tickler/ticklee:

(Near end of Chapter 6) "'Oh! Briney [her nickname for her lover] you're a scamp!' I tickled him. He tickled me. It resulted, by stages, in Maureen being disgracefully noisy again." [i.e., they had sex for the second time that afternoon]

(In Chapter 10) "Then, sated but still coupled, we would argue over whether or not I had put on a five-dollar performance. Which could result in tickling, biting, wrestling, spanking, laughing, and another go at it, with much bawdy joking throughout."

Yes, Heinlein was alive to the tickling idea.
 
Stretching the point of "Tickling in Books", I have just remembered a play that has a tickling moment in it. I haven't seen the play, but I came across the script in a book in my school library one afternoon when I was a teenager.

It is "Lovers: Winners and Losers" by the Northern Irish playwright Brian Friel. This is a sad little tragedy, written in 1967, about a teenaged boy and girl; they are still at school, the girl is pregnant by the boy, and they are due to get married. The play consists of the dialogue of these two characters as they sit together on a hill outside their town and revise for their school exams. There is a moment when, as they fool around in between more serious interactions, she playfully and purposefully tickles him in revenge for something that he has said.

This especially resonated with me when I read it, because it so happens that I was originally switched on to tickling, as a child, by a girl whose family were from Northern Ireland. I saw her lead a tickling attack on another boy, and that was my trigger moment. For me, the archetypal tickling scenario for which my brain is wired (I have branched out since then...) has therefore always been a Northern Irish girl tickling a boy. Strange but true. And there it was on the page in front of me. Nice.
 
Fun fact about Mr.cool- HE IS A HUGE COMIC GEEK

Tickling is in comics alot, from peter Parker getting tickled by Mary Jane, to xmen nightcrawler, he deserve"s a forum of his own in fact I will. But in fantastic four 115 we learn that old Ben grim himself is ticklish
 
Years ago, there was a book called Life's Little Instruction Book. It wasn't a big book or even that deep of a read. In fact, the whole book was just a list of bullet points on how to life a happy and rewarding life. It got started when the author typed up a list of pointers about various things in life for his son to take to college with him. After that, the author kept thinking of new things to add to the list, and that book was eventually published. A few of the pointers in that book that I remember are

Hug and kiss your mother every time you see her no matter how old you are.

Occasionally call in to a radio talk show with an opinion.

Never eat anyone's meatloaf but your mom's.

Marry only for love.

As you can see, it was a pretty heartfelt book. And if there is one thing heartfelt books/movies/etc. are good at, it is attracting the ire of ornery satirists who want to do parodies of them. Well, someone else came along and wrote a book called Life's Little Destruction Book. It was written in the same format as Life's Little Instruction Book, but instead of pointers on how to live a happy and rewarding life, it was a list of pointers on how to be an obnoxious d-bag to everyone around you. A few of the suggestions in that book were

Curse the umpire at a little league game.

Fart in elevators.

Go ahead, ask what your country can do for you.

And another item on that list was . . .

Tickle people.

As I read through that book as a preteen, that jumped out at me, and I was pleased to see it.
 
How about tickling in poetry? Years ago on the radio I heard someone reading out some lines from the long poem Gaudete by the great poet Ted Hughes. It contained an image that made my ears prick up. All these years later I get round to buying the book, for the express purpose of proving to myself that I really did hear that bit as I remember it, and sure enough there it is.

The character referred to as "Reverend Lumb" is a changeling from the other world who is impersonating the church minister and is fornicating with all the women in his parish (yes, you understood that correctly; interesting premise for a poem).

On P93 we read of his latest sexual coupling:

"Already Mrs Davies and the Reverend Lumb
Are a bundle of struggling garments,
On the bags of Irish peat, behind the carnations.

Mrs Davies
Agonised ecstatic
As if he were tickling her unmercifully
And he laughing as if he had finally blindfold got her
After months of anticipation
In a dark-house party game."

So the similarities between tickling and sex occurred to Ted Hughes too.
 
There's this scene, from Ann Renaldi's "The Readheaded Princess" where a teenaged Princess Elizabeth (1550 or so) is tickled by her stepmother's new husband.

"Take your hands off me."
But he laughed, like my old Lord Tom did when I was a child and he dispensed sweetmeats to the children in court. And then he drew the coverlet back to tickle my ribs.
"Oh, oh stop," I begged.
"Will you apologize to Lady Jane? And let her study with you?"
He wouldn't stop. And I couldn't get away. Finally I said I'd let her study with me, but I wouldn't apologize. I don't know what would have happened then if Cat Ashley hadn't come running into the room, along with two of my maids.
"What is this? What's going on here?" Cat stood, horrified, as I squirmed under Lord Tom's hands.
"Get out of here, you old witch," he told her. "I'm having a discussion with my stepdaughter. She's been disobedient and disrespectful and I must attend to it."
"Oh, Sir Tom, please. I'm responsible for the Princess. What will people say?"
"What people?" He continued to tickle me. Then he slapped me on the rump and I screamed. "What people?" he asked again.
She pointed to the maids.
"Out, out!" he ordered them, and when they just stood there staring, he shook them both and slapped them. They left, shrieking.
"They'll tell," Cat Ashley said. "It will be all over that you were in here like this."
"Not unless you tell them to, you old bag of bones." But he stopped then and looked at me.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning. And every morning until you apologize to Lady Jane," he said to me. And then he left.
***
But I wouldn't apologize. And I don't know why. Except that I had to admit to myself that I liked it when he came in every morning and we romped in my chamber, with the maids screaming and Cat Ashley scolding. It was exciting, and the attention he paid me was gratifying."





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There was also a Nora Roberts book, one of the McCades, I think, where a mother really goes to town tickling her son. In Public Secrets, one of the band members tickled young Emma in an attempt to get her to admit he's the best.


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Also, this scene from Elizabeth Hoyt's "Thief of Shadows.

"Then he took her hand and pulled her arm over her head to stroke the underside of her upper arm.
She squirmed.
He darted a look at her. "It hurts?"
"No, of course not," she gasped. "You're tickling me!"
The corner of his mouth kicked up and his hand suddenly dove for the vulnerable skin just under her armpit.
"Oh!" She convulsed, giggling, and he flung himself on top of her to keep her from wriggling away.
"Lie still," he said sternly, his mouth only inches from hers.
"Then stop tickling me," "




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Buckle's History of England documents (based on court testimony of the period) that her stepmother and her stepmother's husband both tickled the princess (later to become Elizabeth I). So established historical fact.
 
This scene, from Mary Downing Hahn's "The Jellyfish Season". It starts with two characters arm wrestling.

Are you faking?" Patsy asked. "Are you just letting me win?"
"You really want to know?" With no effort at all, he shoved Patsy's arm down so fast she barely knew what was happening. Then he grabbed her and started tickling her.
"Stop! Stop!" Patsy shrieked. "No, Joe, no!"
"Me too, me too!" Mo threw herself into the fray, and Joe tickled her and Rosie, too.
"Your turn next, Smiley!" He lunged at me. "Here comes the Tickle Bird!"
"No! No!" I jumped up and ran.
"Leave Kathleen alone!" I heard Fay say sharply. "She's too old for those dumb games!"
"Nobody's too old for the Tickle Bird!" Joe grabbed Fay and tickled her till I couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying.

I read this over and over when I first found it.


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Just found this, in Charlie Cochet’s “Against the Grain”

"All right. You’ve left me no choice."
Ash lifted Cael’s legs and sat down, pulling him onto his lap as he launched a tickle assault. Cael squealed. Oh no! He was horribly ticklish.
"Stop!" Cael cried, holding steadfast on to his album. He squirmed and laughed, tried curling on his side, then his back, but nothing eased the cruelty of Ash’s assault. He tickled Cael under his arms, on his sides, his neck, his belly, and his feet. It was ruthless! Cael had tears in his eyes, and his mouth hurt from laughing. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the assault stopped. Cael flopped onto his back, sprawled across Ash’s lap as he tried to catch his breath. He maintained a firm grip on his baby pictures. And then Ash kissed him.



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ladybird27 said:
Just found this, in Charlie Cochet’s “Against the Grain”

"All right. You’ve left me no choice."
Ash lifted Cael’s legs and sat down, pulling him onto his lap as he launched a tickle assault. Cael squealed. Oh no! He was horribly ticklish.
"Stop!" Cael cried, holding steadfast on to his album. He squirmed and laughed, tried curling on his side, then his back, but nothing eased the cruelty of Ash’s assault. He tickled Cael under his arms, on his sides, his neck, his belly, and his feet. It was ruthless! Cael had tears in his eyes, and his mouth hurt from laughing. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the assault stopped. Cael flopped onto his back, sprawled across Ash’s lap as he tried to catch his breath. He maintained a firm grip on his baby pictures. And then Ash kissed him.



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Click to expand...
Is it about two men? M/M?
 
No actual tickling in this book, but in the Atlantis Complex (a book in the acclaimed Artemis Fowl series), it is mentioned that Juliet (an athletic, blonde older teen training to be a bodyguard) is ticklish in a spot under her ribcage. I think that's more like tickling fanfiction material than anything else. :)
 
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