The One That Got Away
Technically, I'm not jaded-- I'm Jayd.
That aside, I can tell you that having a home-run experience in tickling can taint all other tickling, in real life or in photos/vids.
I dated this girl in college who was the most spectacularly ticklish human being I've ever seen across the board. No one else, in videos, in real life, in anything can touch her. Hell, I couldn't touch her! When we danced and I put my hands on her hips, I could feel her giggling (note, I wasn't even digging in or anything). Put my arm around her, same effect. And forget about her feet. The tiniest touch caused the mightiest of kicks.
She wasn't muscle-bound by any means. She was fairly short (maybe 5'2") and of average build. However, her reflexes were off the chart. You know how they say you could lift a Buick off your mate with an odd adrenalin rush? That must have been the case with her. The best example of this was a night she came over to watch TV, laying face down on the sofa, barefoot. I had the genius idea of going over to her, sitting on her calves, and tickling her "hopelessly" trapped soles. Yeah right. One touch and it was all a blur. Somehow I was on my back on the floor and she was sprawled over the coffee table. Both of us didn't know what had hit us.
Lisa was the first woman I confessed my fetishes to. To my surprise, she didn't kick me out the door with that bronco-busting kick of hers. She actually consented to letting me tie her up one night when her parents were away for the evening.
Boy oh frickin' boy, right? She totally caught me off guard there, but I was eager to spring into action. I found some robe sashes in her closet and tied each hand to the top bedpost, leaving her underarms fully exposed. I then used another to tied her ankles together, then tying the loose ends under her thighs in a variation of a hogtie.
I didn't want her to get nervous, so I laid down next to her for a bit and kissed her mouth. That seemed like an eternity, because I HAD to get at her or die. I started with some light caresses to her underarms and ribs, delighting at the bucking-bronco effect with the slightest touch. Being such a foot freak, I almost immediately had to pounce on those hovering soles. I tickled her right foot. With a blur, her left foot knocked my hand away and covered the rightie. So, that's how it's going to be, eh? Take this! I tickled her left foot. Blur. Knock. Right covers left. It's hard to describe how forceful her reflexes were, but I literally couldn't get more than a glancing tickle in without the dreaded blur. Think, Jayd, think!
One thing I did not think of, though I immediately did the next day, was to simply tie her big toes together with a shoelace. It would have been so perfect! Clearly, I was not in my right mind that night to overlook such an obvious and proven method for fighting dreaded "foot knocks".
Anyway, to my mind, isolation of the feet had to be the answer. All I had to do was to tie each ankle separately at the end of the bed. Then I would at last rule! I excused myself to search for other bonding materials. I went into her parents room and searched for sashes, ties, anything. I could not find a thing. Worst of all, I noticed my reflection in the open front window, standing there naked in full view of the front street. Nice plan, dumbass. Meanwhile, Lisa started to complain, clearly uncomfortable in her tied-up waiting room. I finally decided to untie her ankles and use that one sash to tie one of her ankles down alone. I knew that would be a problem because her now-free ankle would probably go Jackie Chan on my ass the whole time. Oh well, had to try something. As I untied her ankles, her discomfort with the situation was obvious. She wanted to be completely untied. I absolutely did not want to do this, but there was no way I would violate her trust. Thus ended the bondage session with the most bondage-requiring damsel ever to walk the earth.
The next day, I was sure I had a new life ahead of me. I immediately went on a shopping spree to craft and hardware stores, buying rope, feathers, pointy things, bristly things, EVERYTHING. She was coming over to our house that Saturday and my parents were out of state for a funeral. When I got her to my bedroom, I sprung my tool box of tickling on her with a "hey baby" expression on my face. She clearly wanted no part of round two. The next twenty minutes on my bed was an exchange of "aw, c'mons" and "I don't wannas". Then I heard the door open downstairs-- my parents came home unexpectedly! Red alert! I quickly threw the toolbox under the bed, all the while thanking Lisa for not consenting (imagine trying to explain my trussed up GF to my ultra-conservative parents). We managed to sneak downstairs and act like we were watching a movie. My folks probably knew better, but they sure didn't know it all.
I wish I could say I got that rematch with Lisa, but it never happened. She made it clear I could tickle her, but not with bondage. While that was still exciting, she simply was too violently ticklish to really get at while unbound. She kept pressing me to marry her. Being a freshman, facing, what-- 10 to 20 years of college ahead 🙂 --I thought she was insane. We ended up breaking up over that. She married a guy in the navy and moved about a 1000 miles away. I never saw her again. However, she is the one who will haunt my tickling interests until the day I die. No one, NO ONE has been close to her in sheer reaction power. So I guess I'll always be a bit jaded and spoiled because I know I'll never find someone like that again. Blam, blam blam! No not gunshots; I'm hitting my head on the desk. Oooh, purty stars!
Jayd
