Tickllishler
Registered User
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2025
- Messages
- 17
- Points
- 3
Hello there! I’m putting together a DnD-like tickling based rp that’ll put you as the only player against my tickly world.
You’ll have the option of being a ler against vulnerable dames and sirs, slaying anything from their soles to their armpits.
You could be a lee and (attempt) to conquer the many challenges that comes with your supple, sweet skin.
Or you could be a switch and experience the joys (and despare) of both!
Whether you like it rough or want it gentle, I’ve got it for you!
Your character will not just be a husk for fetish exploration but can too be a fleshed out and intensely written character that can drag him/her from a one note portrayal of sentience to whatever you’d like it to be!
And here is a little hint of what I have cooked up:
*The residents—both men and women, beautiful beyond words—move through the streets with an effortless grace. Women draped in flowing silks that catch the wind like petals in the breeze, their laughter like soft, melodic chimes, filling the air. Their soft, playful smiles hide a deeper, more dangerous secret: they possess the power to bring any strong-willed adventurer to their knees with the softest caresses, using nothing but their touch.
The men, strong and capable, their muscles honed through years of training, often find themselves at odds with their own desires. Their strength is both their gift and their curse, as every day they find themselves tested by the seductive energy of the world around them. The men of the domain are taught to endure, to resist the constant ticklish sensations that coil around their bodies like the silken threads of a spider's web. But it is a battle they are destined to lose, for the world itself is designed to bring them to laughter.
Every home in this realm is a sanctuary of soft whispers and heated touch. Large velvet cushions line every room, and silk ropes hang from high beams, their purpose not to bind, but to seduce. In the town square, long benches stretch under the arching boughs of willow trees, and at every corner, soft laughter can be heard as villagers tease one another—fingers tracing along ribs, kneading under the arms, or slipping beneath soft silken garments to coax out the softest of giggles.
The gardens are where the magic truly begins, their paths lit by flickering candlelight. The flowers themselves seem to smile, their petals quivering with the slightest breath of wind, as if preparing for the next wave of laughter to shake the air. The trees hum with energy, and in their canopies, creatures—half spirit, half physical—wait patiently to partake in the endless dance of touch. These ethereal beings know how to make even the toughest warrior’s resolve falter, their ethereal fingers ghosting over skin like a teasing whisper, searching for the slightest reaction.
The air itself is charged, thick with anticipation. With each step, the floor beneath you seems to shift, almost as if it is responding to your presence—gliding over your feet like a lover’s fingers. The softest brush against your ankles, a fleeting sensation beneath your arms—it feels as though the very world is alive, teasing you, tempting you to submit, to surrender to the playful touch.*
You’ll have the option of being a ler against vulnerable dames and sirs, slaying anything from their soles to their armpits.
You could be a lee and (attempt) to conquer the many challenges that comes with your supple, sweet skin.
Or you could be a switch and experience the joys (and despare) of both!
Whether you like it rough or want it gentle, I’ve got it for you!
Your character will not just be a husk for fetish exploration but can too be a fleshed out and intensely written character that can drag him/her from a one note portrayal of sentience to whatever you’d like it to be!
And here is a little hint of what I have cooked up:
*The residents—both men and women, beautiful beyond words—move through the streets with an effortless grace. Women draped in flowing silks that catch the wind like petals in the breeze, their laughter like soft, melodic chimes, filling the air. Their soft, playful smiles hide a deeper, more dangerous secret: they possess the power to bring any strong-willed adventurer to their knees with the softest caresses, using nothing but their touch.
The men, strong and capable, their muscles honed through years of training, often find themselves at odds with their own desires. Their strength is both their gift and their curse, as every day they find themselves tested by the seductive energy of the world around them. The men of the domain are taught to endure, to resist the constant ticklish sensations that coil around their bodies like the silken threads of a spider's web. But it is a battle they are destined to lose, for the world itself is designed to bring them to laughter.
Every home in this realm is a sanctuary of soft whispers and heated touch. Large velvet cushions line every room, and silk ropes hang from high beams, their purpose not to bind, but to seduce. In the town square, long benches stretch under the arching boughs of willow trees, and at every corner, soft laughter can be heard as villagers tease one another—fingers tracing along ribs, kneading under the arms, or slipping beneath soft silken garments to coax out the softest of giggles.
The gardens are where the magic truly begins, their paths lit by flickering candlelight. The flowers themselves seem to smile, their petals quivering with the slightest breath of wind, as if preparing for the next wave of laughter to shake the air. The trees hum with energy, and in their canopies, creatures—half spirit, half physical—wait patiently to partake in the endless dance of touch. These ethereal beings know how to make even the toughest warrior’s resolve falter, their ethereal fingers ghosting over skin like a teasing whisper, searching for the slightest reaction.
The air itself is charged, thick with anticipation. With each step, the floor beneath you seems to shift, almost as if it is responding to your presence—gliding over your feet like a lover’s fingers. The softest brush against your ankles, a fleeting sensation beneath your arms—it feels as though the very world is alive, teasing you, tempting you to submit, to surrender to the playful touch.*
