MikeMenace
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2024
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This happened during my last year of high school. Everyone involved was 18 or 19.
It was a warm spring day, not long before our final exams. My class was dragged to a school trip - an outdoor play in a park amphitheatre. Said "amphitheatre" ended up being a platform with a stage and several rows of wooden benches - the cheap kind with no backrest. You could easily reach and touch the person sitting in front of you. That would come into play soon enough.
The play began and it was pretty dull. Then, 30 minutes in I felt someone drag a fingernail down my spine. Holy shit, it tickled bad. I arched my back and almost fell out of my bench. Then I felt the fingernail draw a little circle. I gasped and turned around.
Julie and Ann (fake names to protect the innocent) were the only people sitting behind me. They were nice girls, kinda nerdy. The last people in my class you'd expect to prank or try to mess with people. And yet here they were, mischevious grins on their faces.
"Pay attention to the play.", Julie broke the silence, "There might be a quiz."
I shook my head in disapproval but complied. I couldn't focus on the play anymore. I was nervously anticipating the tickling.
I didn't have to wait long. I felt two hands on my sides, their fingers wiggling very lightly, barely touching my ribs. I tensed up. I felt the corners of my mouth curl up into a grin. And then the hands goosed my sides. I barely kept myself from jumping.
About a minute later I felt fingers on my back again. Light pokes just above my waistline. It felt like tiny electric shocks. This time I couldn't remain so stoic. I twisted my upper body, trying to anticipate and avoid the fingers. I swear I could hear a muffled girlish snicker from behind.
For the next half an hour or so the fingers would come and attack my back and sides again and again. Keeping quiet was actually not that hard. Tickle me on my neck or shoulders and you'll get me into a laughing panic. Anything below these spots is "the squirming and flailing zone". And I certainly did a lot of squirming during those 30 mintes. A fingernail would be dragged down my spine making me arch my back to the point of almost getting a muscle cramp. A minute later my ribs got poked and I jumped in my seat. A quick moment of peace and fingers were spider-walking across my lower back making me flail from side to side.
Half an hour ago I had no idea my back was ticklish. Now I knew. Oh, how I knew. It was evil. Fun. But evil.
I got saved by the intermission. As the theatre crew started redecorating the stage, we got up from the benches to stretch our legs a little. I got a chance to talk to Ann and Julie.
"Wow. You really are the quiet type.", said Ann, "I would be screaming with laughter if that was done to me."
"Were you the one tickling me?"
"Nope." Ann pointed a finger at Julie.
"In my defence, I could not resist your exclamation point." said the tickle culprit.
Now it clicked. My t-shirt had an exclamation point print on the back. That was what the initial attack was - her finger tracing the print.
"And the other 30 minutes?"
"You look so funny when you squirm." said Julie with shrug.
This meant war. Tickle war. As we were returning to our seats I made sure to sit behind the girls.
"Hey! No switching seats!" Julie complained.
"Shhh. The play is starting."
"If you try anything..."
"Pay attention to the play." Throwing that one back in her face felt really good.
I gave her a couple of minutes of false security and went to work. I goosed her ribs as lightly as I could. She jumped in her seat and squeled. Oops. Drawing too much attention. We don't actually want to make her laugh. We want to make her struggle real hard not to laugh.
So I executed my attacks accordingly. I lightly spider-tickled her sides. When she tried to protect them she exposed the backs of her arms, which I then lightly grazed with my fingertips. When she moved her arms away the sides got exposed again. 10-20 seconds of tickling every minute or two. I kept that up for the remaining 40 minutes of the play.
I loved watching her jump and squirm at my touch.
Every now and then Ann would turn to Julie and quietly say things like: "You totally deserve it", "He's only getting you back" and my personal favorite "It could be worse. At least he's not tickling your feet."
As the play was reaching its end I decided to test Julie's resolve a little. So far she was doing so well. It would be a shame if she bursted out laughing now, near the very end of our little game. I began to tickle the back of her neck as lightly as I could with two fingers. She gasped and tried scrunching her neck but that just made me move my fingers down between her shoulder blades. I was not the only one with a ticklish back. She had no way of keeping my fingers off her back so I kept tickling. 20 seconds later she inhaled sharply and started to breathe faster. It was getting to her, alright. She was about to crack. 10 more seconds and she gave out a whimper. She then covered her mouth with her hands to physically keep the laughter in. So I poked her exposed ribs a couple of times, getting a nice little snort in return. And then I stopped, after tickling her non-stop for nearly a minute. She had enough.
The play ended and we got up from the benches.
"That was torture." said Julie, her cheeks still a little red from fighting laughter.
"You took it like a champ." I said.
"Fuck you! I wanted to laugh so bad. I was going insane. My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth." she continued her complaints.
I would have felt bad for her but, as she was trying to read me the riot act, she had a big, cheerful smile on her face. Her tickling me first didn't help her case either.
"You should have seen the faces she was pulling.", added Ann, "You got her good."
"That's it! You're getting it next, Ann, just you wait." said Julie as we left for the bus.
Before the bus took us home we stopped for lunch. As we ate I kept glancing at the table where Ann and Julie were sitting with some other girls from my class. Everyone was chatting except Ann. Julie was sitting right next to her and joking with the other girls. But Ann... Ann was unusually quiet.
"No fuckin' way", I thought to myself, "she can't be... And yet..." I now paid close attention to Ann. Yup, all the signs were there. Quivering corners of her mouth. Lip biting. Erratic breathing. Distress in her eyes. At one point she even had to cover her mouth with her hand. She was desperately trying not to laugh.
I excused myself to the bathroom. As I got up and walked by the girls' table I caught a glimpse of what was happening - just as Julie was making small talk with the other girls, under the table, she was lightly dragging her fingernails up and down Ann's thigh. Poor Ann was being sneak tickled out of her mind. Say what you want about Julie, but she was not the one to make empty threats.
.
It was a warm spring day, not long before our final exams. My class was dragged to a school trip - an outdoor play in a park amphitheatre. Said "amphitheatre" ended up being a platform with a stage and several rows of wooden benches - the cheap kind with no backrest. You could easily reach and touch the person sitting in front of you. That would come into play soon enough.
The play began and it was pretty dull. Then, 30 minutes in I felt someone drag a fingernail down my spine. Holy shit, it tickled bad. I arched my back and almost fell out of my bench. Then I felt the fingernail draw a little circle. I gasped and turned around.
Julie and Ann (fake names to protect the innocent) were the only people sitting behind me. They were nice girls, kinda nerdy. The last people in my class you'd expect to prank or try to mess with people. And yet here they were, mischevious grins on their faces.
"Pay attention to the play.", Julie broke the silence, "There might be a quiz."
I shook my head in disapproval but complied. I couldn't focus on the play anymore. I was nervously anticipating the tickling.
I didn't have to wait long. I felt two hands on my sides, their fingers wiggling very lightly, barely touching my ribs. I tensed up. I felt the corners of my mouth curl up into a grin. And then the hands goosed my sides. I barely kept myself from jumping.
About a minute later I felt fingers on my back again. Light pokes just above my waistline. It felt like tiny electric shocks. This time I couldn't remain so stoic. I twisted my upper body, trying to anticipate and avoid the fingers. I swear I could hear a muffled girlish snicker from behind.
For the next half an hour or so the fingers would come and attack my back and sides again and again. Keeping quiet was actually not that hard. Tickle me on my neck or shoulders and you'll get me into a laughing panic. Anything below these spots is "the squirming and flailing zone". And I certainly did a lot of squirming during those 30 mintes. A fingernail would be dragged down my spine making me arch my back to the point of almost getting a muscle cramp. A minute later my ribs got poked and I jumped in my seat. A quick moment of peace and fingers were spider-walking across my lower back making me flail from side to side.
Half an hour ago I had no idea my back was ticklish. Now I knew. Oh, how I knew. It was evil. Fun. But evil.
I got saved by the intermission. As the theatre crew started redecorating the stage, we got up from the benches to stretch our legs a little. I got a chance to talk to Ann and Julie.
"Wow. You really are the quiet type.", said Ann, "I would be screaming with laughter if that was done to me."
"Were you the one tickling me?"
"Nope." Ann pointed a finger at Julie.
"In my defence, I could not resist your exclamation point." said the tickle culprit.
Now it clicked. My t-shirt had an exclamation point print on the back. That was what the initial attack was - her finger tracing the print.
"And the other 30 minutes?"
"You look so funny when you squirm." said Julie with shrug.
This meant war. Tickle war. As we were returning to our seats I made sure to sit behind the girls.
"Hey! No switching seats!" Julie complained.
"Shhh. The play is starting."
"If you try anything..."
"Pay attention to the play." Throwing that one back in her face felt really good.
I gave her a couple of minutes of false security and went to work. I goosed her ribs as lightly as I could. She jumped in her seat and squeled. Oops. Drawing too much attention. We don't actually want to make her laugh. We want to make her struggle real hard not to laugh.
So I executed my attacks accordingly. I lightly spider-tickled her sides. When she tried to protect them she exposed the backs of her arms, which I then lightly grazed with my fingertips. When she moved her arms away the sides got exposed again. 10-20 seconds of tickling every minute or two. I kept that up for the remaining 40 minutes of the play.
I loved watching her jump and squirm at my touch.
Every now and then Ann would turn to Julie and quietly say things like: "You totally deserve it", "He's only getting you back" and my personal favorite "It could be worse. At least he's not tickling your feet."
As the play was reaching its end I decided to test Julie's resolve a little. So far she was doing so well. It would be a shame if she bursted out laughing now, near the very end of our little game. I began to tickle the back of her neck as lightly as I could with two fingers. She gasped and tried scrunching her neck but that just made me move my fingers down between her shoulder blades. I was not the only one with a ticklish back. She had no way of keeping my fingers off her back so I kept tickling. 20 seconds later she inhaled sharply and started to breathe faster. It was getting to her, alright. She was about to crack. 10 more seconds and she gave out a whimper. She then covered her mouth with her hands to physically keep the laughter in. So I poked her exposed ribs a couple of times, getting a nice little snort in return. And then I stopped, after tickling her non-stop for nearly a minute. She had enough.
The play ended and we got up from the benches.
"That was torture." said Julie, her cheeks still a little red from fighting laughter.
"You took it like a champ." I said.
"Fuck you! I wanted to laugh so bad. I was going insane. My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth." she continued her complaints.
I would have felt bad for her but, as she was trying to read me the riot act, she had a big, cheerful smile on her face. Her tickling me first didn't help her case either.
"You should have seen the faces she was pulling.", added Ann, "You got her good."
"That's it! You're getting it next, Ann, just you wait." said Julie as we left for the bus.
Before the bus took us home we stopped for lunch. As we ate I kept glancing at the table where Ann and Julie were sitting with some other girls from my class. Everyone was chatting except Ann. Julie was sitting right next to her and joking with the other girls. But Ann... Ann was unusually quiet.
"No fuckin' way", I thought to myself, "she can't be... And yet..." I now paid close attention to Ann. Yup, all the signs were there. Quivering corners of her mouth. Lip biting. Erratic breathing. Distress in her eyes. At one point she even had to cover her mouth with her hand. She was desperately trying not to laugh.
I excused myself to the bathroom. As I got up and walked by the girls' table I caught a glimpse of what was happening - just as Julie was making small talk with the other girls, under the table, she was lightly dragging her fingernails up and down Ann's thigh. Poor Ann was being sneak tickled out of her mind. Say what you want about Julie, but she was not the one to make empty threats.
.
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Thanks for sharing your experience here. 
