Haltickling
2nd Level Green Feather
- Joined
- Apr 3, 2001
- Messages
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Tickle poem
This was published in the first (and only) issue of “Tickle Times” in 1987. Author is a woman called Sheherazade. Perhaps it belongs to the “Stories” section, but I think it might also interest those who don’t read the ‘normal’ stories. Caution, sexual content!
Maid Marian
When I was fifteen, I would play Robin Hood
With some of my girlfriends out in a green wood.
I loved to be Marian, Robin’s sweet mate –
‘Cause tickling in bondage was always her fate!
The villains would find me where I’d try to hide,
And quickly my wrists with a clothesline were tied.
They’d lead me as captive into the dark glen
That served as the cruel Sheriff’s torturing den.
“Now tell us where Robin is, for if you balk,
You’ll undergo torments that shall make you talk.”
My insides would tingle when I heard this threat;
Though I was still young, B&D made me wet.
“To tell Robin’s hiding place she does refuse –
So strip the proud Maid of her gown and her shoes!”
They’d pull down the polka-dot top that I’d wear,
And peel off my sneakers so my feet were bare.
Clad only in cut-offs and summertime tan,
I’d feel a strange thrill as my torture began.
They’d fasten four ropes to my arms and my legs,
And stretch me out tightly between wooden pegs.
I’d lie there and think of the starlets I’d seen
Get put to the torture on our drive-in’s screen.
I’d pull my limbs taut and I’d arch my bare back,
Pretending I was on some cruel noble’s rack.
But I would be roused from my B&D dream
By torments that caused me to struggle and scream –
Not thumb-screws or lashings or burning-hot coals,
But feathers that tickled my poor naked soles!
My feet were so sensitive that a mere touch
Upon their bare bottoms was almost too much –
So when those soft feathers stroked under my toes,
My whole racked-out body would shiver in throes!
While two fiendish torturers worked on my feet,
My ribs and bare boobies received the same treat.
I’d laugh and I’d scream until all out of breath;
I thought once or twice I’d be “tickled to death”!
I’d take all I could, but to end my distress,
Within fifteen minutes, I’d have to “confess”.
Yet I would come back the very next day,
To be tied and tortured the same lovely way.
The reason was simple – the feather’s soft dance
On soles and on nipples set fire to my pants!
I loved being stripped and I loved being tied,
And the tickling I felt was not only outside.
The fire burned so hot that, though still in my teens,
I yearned for much sexier tickle-tease scenes –
To be the bound captive of some handsome jock
Who’d tickle with feathers and fingers – and cock!
For nearly three frustrating years I did wait,
But finally started to steadily date
A good-looking guy with a strong streak of kink –
Who took me and tied me and tickled me pink!
The stories I told him of Robin Hood games
Stoked up very quickly his B&D flames;
The next time we went out, it was to the glade
Where so many times I as Maid Marian played.
He made a great Sheriff, creative and lewd,
Who stripped his poor captive Maid totally nude,
And added the spice of erotic surprise
By binding a handkerchief over my eyes.
I lay racked out naked, in ecstasy sweet,
As his teasing fingers toyed with my bare feet;
Then my gales of giggles turned into deep sighs
As he gently tickled my spread-eagled thighs!
White sparks then shot through ev’ry sensitized nerve
As feather and tongue traced each straining rib’s curve,
Set fire to the hollows of shining armpits,
And traced paths of passion on heaving bare tits!
I heard his soft whisper in my ringing ear:
”It’s time now to tickle your fancy, my dear!”
His fingertip glided to that secret spot
Already ablaze with a pulse quick and hot.
A half-dozen tickles was all that it took –
My spine turned to jelly, my whole body shook!
I wanted to scream out, but I was struck dumb –
Made mute by the force of an exquisite cum!
Then his rigid shaft into me slowly slid
Until in my belly its hot length was hid;
Despite the tight ropes on my hands and my feet,
We screwed like two hungry tigers in heat!
You masters who want to be truly well laid
Should find out what sort of games your woman played.
If she’s into tickling, the chances are good
That they were quite similar to Robin Hood.
If that is the case, then you surely should strive
To bring back her warm memories all back alive –
Take her to the woods, strip her right to the bare,
And tickle those spots her teen friends didn’t dare!
She’ll scream in hysterics, she’ll struggle and buck –
But afterwards, she’ll be a heavenly fuck;
And she’ll pay back for each tormented laugh
With tender tongue-tickles all over your staff!
Sheherazade
This was published in the first (and only) issue of “Tickle Times” in 1987. Author is a woman called Sheherazade. Perhaps it belongs to the “Stories” section, but I think it might also interest those who don’t read the ‘normal’ stories. Caution, sexual content!
Maid Marian
When I was fifteen, I would play Robin Hood
With some of my girlfriends out in a green wood.
I loved to be Marian, Robin’s sweet mate –
‘Cause tickling in bondage was always her fate!
The villains would find me where I’d try to hide,
And quickly my wrists with a clothesline were tied.
They’d lead me as captive into the dark glen
That served as the cruel Sheriff’s torturing den.
“Now tell us where Robin is, for if you balk,
You’ll undergo torments that shall make you talk.”
My insides would tingle when I heard this threat;
Though I was still young, B&D made me wet.
“To tell Robin’s hiding place she does refuse –
So strip the proud Maid of her gown and her shoes!”
They’d pull down the polka-dot top that I’d wear,
And peel off my sneakers so my feet were bare.
Clad only in cut-offs and summertime tan,
I’d feel a strange thrill as my torture began.
They’d fasten four ropes to my arms and my legs,
And stretch me out tightly between wooden pegs.
I’d lie there and think of the starlets I’d seen
Get put to the torture on our drive-in’s screen.
I’d pull my limbs taut and I’d arch my bare back,
Pretending I was on some cruel noble’s rack.
But I would be roused from my B&D dream
By torments that caused me to struggle and scream –
Not thumb-screws or lashings or burning-hot coals,
But feathers that tickled my poor naked soles!
My feet were so sensitive that a mere touch
Upon their bare bottoms was almost too much –
So when those soft feathers stroked under my toes,
My whole racked-out body would shiver in throes!
While two fiendish torturers worked on my feet,
My ribs and bare boobies received the same treat.
I’d laugh and I’d scream until all out of breath;
I thought once or twice I’d be “tickled to death”!
I’d take all I could, but to end my distress,
Within fifteen minutes, I’d have to “confess”.
Yet I would come back the very next day,
To be tied and tortured the same lovely way.
The reason was simple – the feather’s soft dance
On soles and on nipples set fire to my pants!
I loved being stripped and I loved being tied,
And the tickling I felt was not only outside.
The fire burned so hot that, though still in my teens,
I yearned for much sexier tickle-tease scenes –
To be the bound captive of some handsome jock
Who’d tickle with feathers and fingers – and cock!
For nearly three frustrating years I did wait,
But finally started to steadily date
A good-looking guy with a strong streak of kink –
Who took me and tied me and tickled me pink!
The stories I told him of Robin Hood games
Stoked up very quickly his B&D flames;
The next time we went out, it was to the glade
Where so many times I as Maid Marian played.
He made a great Sheriff, creative and lewd,
Who stripped his poor captive Maid totally nude,
And added the spice of erotic surprise
By binding a handkerchief over my eyes.
I lay racked out naked, in ecstasy sweet,
As his teasing fingers toyed with my bare feet;
Then my gales of giggles turned into deep sighs
As he gently tickled my spread-eagled thighs!
White sparks then shot through ev’ry sensitized nerve
As feather and tongue traced each straining rib’s curve,
Set fire to the hollows of shining armpits,
And traced paths of passion on heaving bare tits!
I heard his soft whisper in my ringing ear:
”It’s time now to tickle your fancy, my dear!”
His fingertip glided to that secret spot
Already ablaze with a pulse quick and hot.
A half-dozen tickles was all that it took –
My spine turned to jelly, my whole body shook!
I wanted to scream out, but I was struck dumb –
Made mute by the force of an exquisite cum!
Then his rigid shaft into me slowly slid
Until in my belly its hot length was hid;
Despite the tight ropes on my hands and my feet,
We screwed like two hungry tigers in heat!
You masters who want to be truly well laid
Should find out what sort of games your woman played.
If she’s into tickling, the chances are good
That they were quite similar to Robin Hood.
If that is the case, then you surely should strive
To bring back her warm memories all back alive –
Take her to the woods, strip her right to the bare,
And tickle those spots her teen friends didn’t dare!
She’ll scream in hysterics, she’ll struggle and buck –
But afterwards, she’ll be a heavenly fuck;
And she’ll pay back for each tormented laugh
With tender tongue-tickles all over your staff!
Sheherazade
