It is such a blessed relief. I don't think of it as 'torture' but more like physical therapy. Yes, one thrashes about, defenseless on stopping the tickling, but it such a rush of extreme sensual energy and it was like I couldn't get enough. I never once yelled 'No', or 'Stop!'
From '07 - '10, I advertised in a local paper, looking for models to make home made tickling videos for the private collection. I had also placed an ad here, but never got one response. But in the Seattle Weekly, it was suddenly a horn of plenty. I only selected those who were articulate writers in expressing themselves and their interest in the project. I met a lot of nice people and got a nice pile of favorite videos, but it's turned from a sexual frustration to one of more meditative bliss.
However, my Earthlink address got fire bombed by the Spam Monster, 200 messages a day, and then my Mac bombed for the last time, and I lost contact with all of them. I was also forced to move from my tree house at the 15th Ave. NE complex where I had spent half of my life. I lost them all, and it now feels like so long, so far away. And Goddess Diana, where I was getting my own fix, (as she loved to tickle,) developed major mental health issues from chronic alcoholism. So she's gone too. Or as Porky Pig would say, "Son of a bi bi, bi bi.. Son of a bi bi, bi bi.."
But life goes on, and I'll be returning to the scene somehow. Ah the good old days. Tickling is good.
My video clips are to large for here, but hey, as far as your fear/love/hate thing, I am recalled to a song by Fran Zappa, "You can be scared if it gets to real, but you should be digging it while it's happening, 'cause it just might be a one shot deal."
Coming into the final chapters on my Book of Life, I'd love to expand the later chapters into a War & Peace tome, & re-live that intense sensual side. It's down right healthy!