tower98
TMF Master
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- Feb 24, 2003
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I don't know if anyone has read this before, but I just found it and thought I would post it.
I remember a situation in high school, at a time when I still thought I was the only tickler in the world. This incident had a profound effect on me and at the time, I truly believed I was going to come out of my skin. I attended a small, private, college prep school, so everyone knew everyone else and cliques did exist but intermingled regularly. Between two of the buildings, a class building and the gym, there was a grassy area where most everyone would hang out and sunbathe or whatever.
On this particular day, a group of cheerleaders were in the grassy area taking a break from practicing their routines. I was walking by when I heard one of the girls yell out "She's SO ticklish let's GET HER!" and immediately, the young lady they were focused on screamed and tried to run away.
What I saw next was so overwhelming to me that I was not myself for several days. The group chased her down, encircled her and they were all poking and grabbing her sides. The ticklish girl twitched and sputtered, twirled and whirled in a vain effort to escape the prodding hands. She was screaming and laughing at this circle tickling and finally fell to the ground. The group pounced on her. Three of the cheerleaders sat on her legs and two others had her arms, one on each arm. She was pinned down so completely with her arms held over her head. The pinned cheerleader began to scream and beg for them not to tickle her, and those who had her pinned were saying all kinds of taunting things to her such as "are you THAT ticklish?" The girl sitting on her legs closest to her waist was straddling her legs, facing her torso, and you could see her hands prodding and poking at the sides and tummy of the pinned girl. The laughter was already bursting and the screams for mercy set in without restraint.
I was mesmerized and frozen there. I was so uncomfortable that somehow, someway, someone was going to see right through me and know that I was getting completely um, shall we say "hormonic". But I couldn't move. I just stared. I was good friends with all of these young women, and the one doing the tickling and I were even project partners in a science class. I was so afraid I was giving away my weirdness to them, and that somehow, they could tell the underlying effect this was having on me.
The young lady on the ground began screaming at the poking of her ribs. And then it really began. I saw the hands of the one doing the poking begin to untuck the pinned cheerleader's shirt. It was one of those tight, clingy, cotton shirts that rather conformed to the shape of the body. Her hands went underneath the shirt and you could see the little mounds of her hands under the shirt prowling all over the poor girl's torso. The pinned girl was so ticklish, she just screamed in laughter. I'm sure it lasted no more than a minute or two, but it seemed like a voyeuristic eternity. The shirt conformed to the hands of the tickler and you could literally see the little hand mounds moving up and down her sides and across her ribs and tummy. You could even see the tiny little movements of the fabric where her fingers were wriggling so that you could tell she was doing a "spider" tickling rather than a pinching one. The ticklish girl's head was rolling back and forth in wild cackling laughter. On and on and on the little fabric mounds traversed the sides from waist to underarm and would just linger in spots that caused the insane bursting laughter, and would then travel across the ribs and belly, continuing the move and linger pattern. The tickler noticed my staring and yelled to me, "David, help me tickle her.. she's soo ticklish" I was almost in shock at this development. I panicked. My mouth and throat were so dry that my voice cracked as I said something like, "No, you're doing just fine." Although there was only one set of hands doing the tickling, that seemed to be more than enough. If any of the young ladies holding her arms and legs helped tickle, I cannot remember. I only recall how she was pinned and how those little hand mounds scampered over the pinned girl's torso.
The pinned girl laughed so long and so hard with this hard laughter that exploded from somewhere so deep within her that I couldn't hear anything else. I had lost all contact with reality and it was as if nothing else existed but this moment in time. I hated that I was watching this because I was so uncomfortable, but I was truly frozen in place and couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It wasn't until they finally let her up that I realized how incredibly aroused I was. The moment they let her up and the trance was broken, I walked quite briskly to my car and left the school.
For the longest time after that, I would feel these wild butterflies in my stomach every time I would see those cheerleaders. When any one them would talk to me, I would find an excuse to get away as soon as possible. I would think about that episode and instantly become "hormonic". I finally got over that episode and had *many* one on one tickling experiences with several of them, but it took a couple of weeks to actually be able to be around them and not replay the episode of that day in my mind.
I remember a situation in high school, at a time when I still thought I was the only tickler in the world. This incident had a profound effect on me and at the time, I truly believed I was going to come out of my skin. I attended a small, private, college prep school, so everyone knew everyone else and cliques did exist but intermingled regularly. Between two of the buildings, a class building and the gym, there was a grassy area where most everyone would hang out and sunbathe or whatever.
On this particular day, a group of cheerleaders were in the grassy area taking a break from practicing their routines. I was walking by when I heard one of the girls yell out "She's SO ticklish let's GET HER!" and immediately, the young lady they were focused on screamed and tried to run away.
What I saw next was so overwhelming to me that I was not myself for several days. The group chased her down, encircled her and they were all poking and grabbing her sides. The ticklish girl twitched and sputtered, twirled and whirled in a vain effort to escape the prodding hands. She was screaming and laughing at this circle tickling and finally fell to the ground. The group pounced on her. Three of the cheerleaders sat on her legs and two others had her arms, one on each arm. She was pinned down so completely with her arms held over her head. The pinned cheerleader began to scream and beg for them not to tickle her, and those who had her pinned were saying all kinds of taunting things to her such as "are you THAT ticklish?" The girl sitting on her legs closest to her waist was straddling her legs, facing her torso, and you could see her hands prodding and poking at the sides and tummy of the pinned girl. The laughter was already bursting and the screams for mercy set in without restraint.
I was mesmerized and frozen there. I was so uncomfortable that somehow, someway, someone was going to see right through me and know that I was getting completely um, shall we say "hormonic". But I couldn't move. I just stared. I was good friends with all of these young women, and the one doing the tickling and I were even project partners in a science class. I was so afraid I was giving away my weirdness to them, and that somehow, they could tell the underlying effect this was having on me.
The young lady on the ground began screaming at the poking of her ribs. And then it really began. I saw the hands of the one doing the poking begin to untuck the pinned cheerleader's shirt. It was one of those tight, clingy, cotton shirts that rather conformed to the shape of the body. Her hands went underneath the shirt and you could see the little mounds of her hands under the shirt prowling all over the poor girl's torso. The pinned girl was so ticklish, she just screamed in laughter. I'm sure it lasted no more than a minute or two, but it seemed like a voyeuristic eternity. The shirt conformed to the hands of the tickler and you could literally see the little hand mounds moving up and down her sides and across her ribs and tummy. You could even see the tiny little movements of the fabric where her fingers were wriggling so that you could tell she was doing a "spider" tickling rather than a pinching one. The ticklish girl's head was rolling back and forth in wild cackling laughter. On and on and on the little fabric mounds traversed the sides from waist to underarm and would just linger in spots that caused the insane bursting laughter, and would then travel across the ribs and belly, continuing the move and linger pattern. The tickler noticed my staring and yelled to me, "David, help me tickle her.. she's soo ticklish" I was almost in shock at this development. I panicked. My mouth and throat were so dry that my voice cracked as I said something like, "No, you're doing just fine." Although there was only one set of hands doing the tickling, that seemed to be more than enough. If any of the young ladies holding her arms and legs helped tickle, I cannot remember. I only recall how she was pinned and how those little hand mounds scampered over the pinned girl's torso.
The pinned girl laughed so long and so hard with this hard laughter that exploded from somewhere so deep within her that I couldn't hear anything else. I had lost all contact with reality and it was as if nothing else existed but this moment in time. I hated that I was watching this because I was so uncomfortable, but I was truly frozen in place and couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It wasn't until they finally let her up that I realized how incredibly aroused I was. The moment they let her up and the trance was broken, I walked quite briskly to my car and left the school.
For the longest time after that, I would feel these wild butterflies in my stomach every time I would see those cheerleaders. When any one them would talk to me, I would find an excuse to get away as soon as possible. I would think about that episode and instantly become "hormonic". I finally got over that episode and had *many* one on one tickling experiences with several of them, but it took a couple of weeks to actually be able to be around them and not replay the episode of that day in my mind.