Hey guys and girls
I’ve been here for so long, enjoying so many stories, I think it’s time to share some experience and give you something back. In this post I want to take you on journey. I want to describe how I discovered my fetish and how my phantasies evolved. Finally I would like to share real life experiences like sessions in SM-Studios and coming out to girls.
Prologue: First memories
I’ve been fascinated by tickling since I was not even 10 years old, even though I’ve never been tickled much in my life. Or maybe this is actually the reason. The curiosity which never got answered might have turned into a fetish during puberty and – you might have guessed – I’m one of these guys who enjoyed the company of a girl in mid 20s.
I remember being around 12 years old, when me and my friends had some kind of “trial of courage” where one was supposed to be held down and tickled by the rest. I was really excited about the chance to experience that mysterious sensation. I didn’t go first and saw the brutal force they put into the stomach. I felt very uncomfortable. So I refused and I was offered the soft mode. I was rolled into a thick blanket so that only my feet were exposed. It was … boring. And even a bit painful. Not horrible or traumatic… just disappointing. At this time, I became afraid of not being ticklish at all.
Chapter 1: Just robots allowed
I always was so unsecure about myself and my sexuality, that even the thought of a real person tickling me was forbidden. So I imagined being tickled by robots and machines. This turns me on so very much up to this day. I imagine being held down by robot arms and strapped into relentless devices. I’m fascinated by the idea of having a count-down on a screen, building up the anticipation while the hydraulics bend my body into super vulnerable positions. Of course, the computer follows the most devious sequence to maximize the result.
It always starts at the least ticklish spots and moves step by step to the more sensitive parts of my body. This is something like the “Scan-Phase” to measure and calibrate everything for the following steps. The “Advanced Training” part of the program starts with some minor inconvenience torture. The sensation jumps from one spot to another, executing various ways of stimulation while randomly modifying the intensity. It begins with one stimulator, followed up by a second one which mirrors the sensations on the opposite side. After that phase I’m aware that the machine knows my body better than myself.
Then it’s time for the teasing part. It includes all kinds of experiences. I usually I put in some breaks between steps to calm down and make use of the anticipation game. I force myself to proceed from one room to another which holds an even more angst-inducing device than the last one. I put myself on conveyor belt systems, imagine slippery slides and padded transportation pods. Robot arms push and drags me from one place to another, my hogtied body is carried around. I lov the situation where one door opens and another closes, and I am supposed to comply. I crawl through narrow mazes with traps and run trough corridors where the floor is covered with tiny brushes and oily suction cups. Oh yes, there was a time I was totally into suction cups. Imagine the whole floor is completely covered with little suction cups and inside there are tiny brushes and electrodes stimulating whatever they are attached to. You have to proceed, there is no other way. And you can see the open door on the other end. You start running and each step produces dozens of smacking sounds. You think you can take it and you run faster. At some point the floor gets softer and more slippery, it’s getting harder to make the next step. And suddenly the suction cups are not mounted to the floor anymore. They are attached to some kind of string or cable that extend out of the floor. The cups remain on your skin, continue the stimulation. The wires make you trip and stumble. Before you know what’s happening you fall down and the next thing you realize is that your whole body is covered in suction cups. And no matter how much you roll over and wipe the things off, there is always a few driving you crazy.
Yes, my phantasy was all about being processed like a piece of ticklish meat. Pretty much like in the game “Portal” there was always some reason for all the effort, all the machines and robots to exist. Sometimes I put myself into a testing facility, on another day I chose being cured or punished for some crime I didn’t commit. Any reason was good enough, as long as I knew that there was no escape.
I imagine standing in front of a table where a full set of tickle clothes waits for me. The slippery fabric is buzzing and humming because the vibrating pads inside are already turned on. And I am supposed to slip in voluntarily while the stimulators are operating on low intensity. I play the phantasy in my mind where I carefully take the jumpsuit and boots, touch the inner fabric to realize what I am supposed to endure. (I think that scene is the reason why I like latex clothes…). I always refuse to comply, love the mindset of not to giving in, because I want to get into the situation where I’m forced to choose the lesser evil. Sometimes I punish myself with extra minutes of “Full intensity torture” for each second I waited – like “You have to endure it anyway, it’s your choice how long it lasts”. Sometimes I imagine being taken into a “TimeOut Punishment Chamber” where I’m educated to behave. This is often an excellent chance to play games like “Count to 10 while each number increases the intensity. And don’t you dare counting too fast”. I also love games with choices, like “Hold still for 10 seconds or endure a whole minute in shackles”.
With each new scene the experience has to became more and more intense, which requires more exposing poses and more effective ways to restrain my limbs. It often starts in a standing position with my arms pulled to the side or over my head. I’m able to make some steps to the left and right, kick and jump until more shackles subdued my legs.
Up to this day I came up with benches and frames which force me into a kneeling position. That’s the most exposing pose for teasing. It leaves room for some helpless wiggling and struggling, while there is no sensitive spot on my skin which is not accessible. A great setup for rotating feathers and twitching rubber tentacles closing in – from left and right, front and back. And suddenly the legs get spread and more stuff rises from the bottom.
There are chairs in my imaginary dungeon, with moving armrests, pulling my arms apart to enable full access to the armpits. The flipping back rest is necessary to provide the comfortable sitting position where the ribcage can be treated, as well as the option for slowly bending backwards until I end up lying-belly-up. And then there is always something like an inflatable pillow at my lower back because I need the feature “Sretch-and-bend-your-immobile-tummy” for the obligatory “tease the navel” scene. I put my legs wherever I needed them. The chair becomes a rack when the abdomen and hips have to be stimulated. Spread eagle is mandatory for thighs and groin. And when it’s time to focus on the genitals the whole contraption transformed into a to gyn chair.
For all those scenes I need my restraints to be merciless and rugged, though they’re not allowed to cause any distracting pain. That’s why metal and wood was never my first choice. I always preferred soft and oily rubber straps over leather. And since I know the nice feeling of halfway inflated water balloons, I like methods that involves inflating objects. Sometimes I put my limbs into wide shackles and imagined the inner wall to hold a rubber sleeve. Depending on my mood it can be filed with warm water or compressing air. Imagine something like many water wings in a long metal tube. No matter how much you struggle, there is no escape. Hell, yeah. I dreamt of latex vacuum beds before I even knew it existed. Can you imagine the moment I realized that such a thing is actually for sale? On the internet? Oh my…
That’s how it begun. Closing my eyes, teasing my skin with my fingers and ending up in fantastic ticklegasms where in my head I was strapped down tightly, surrounded by countless arms, pads and brushes, vibrators and tentacles, being tickled way beyond my limits and finally jerking off while in my story I’m being milked by some silicone tube with some post orgasm torture (because I was not complying before).
Chapter 2: Not alone
As you can guess, at some point I discovered the more hidden places of the internet. I found pictures, stories and even videos. There were women taped to the wall while their beautiful tummies were tickled mercilessly. Beautiful bodies restrained to beds, racks and chairs… Fingernails, feathers and brushes… And so many stories… I found so many digital treasures, inspirations and teasing ideas. But what I found was not only sexy, but an exciting relief. Hell, up to that moment I was convinced to be the only guy in the world who likes tickling, because everybody usually hates it. And I don’t only like it, no, I find a massive erotic kink in that. With this isolation in mind I found people like you. Yes, like you, reading this text this very moment. Okay, I still felt alone because this preference is quite a small niche, compared to all the other stuff that involves shackles. But I didn’t feel “unique” alone anymore.
In conclusion, this not only provided a tiny, unrealistic chance to find somebody I could share and experience this fantasy. There was something even more important. I allowed myself to include women into my stories. I mean, yes. There are people who hate tickling. But why shouldn’t I come up with people who like it? Making this step was hard, but healthy. It felt ok, as long as I was the “victim”.
At the beginning I was really shy. The scenarios were limited to some doctor plays where I was still processed in a lab or clinic. Not very romantic, but still a huge step into the right direction. I started to feel less ashamed, more curious about my sexuality and my body. And after a while I felt more comfortable with my preferences.
One scenario was the idea of visiting a service company which offered to evaluate and adjust my ticklishness. Of course, such a session started with the obligatory contracts and self-assessments I had to fill out. And by the time I made my crosses in the waiver I was already rock hard.
- The analysis includes following body parts: … … …
- In order to make the treatment possible I agree to follow instructions and comply with the given process.
- The use of restraints can be arranged at any point.
- Individual requests during the procedure are generally disregarded.
- During the treatment a supervisor is required to provide guardianship.
- …
I signed, let me lead to the changing room and took my shower. I put on a latex bathrobe and stepped into the elevator. The elevator took me downstairs. Deep into the basement where no windows provided any escape route.
Another nice scenario was the embarrassing idea of a conversation ending up in the question: “What, you like to be tickled?”. The use of “Truth or Dare” was too easy, so I had to come up with more creative ways that actually could happen. For instance, imagine a girl being bored and playful silly. She pulls out a memory card game and pretends them to be tarot cards. You start predicting each other’s future by trying to interpret innocent motives like cats, houses and cars. At some point she asks herself what both of you should do after the game and the card shows the picture of a bed. “Oh, I guess you’re tired”, she says and frowns theatrically. The next card makes her giggle “I like where this is going…” as it shows a picture of a rope. But as the third card shows a white feather your head becomes a red blushing alarm light. You make some poor attempts to play it cool and to find another interpretation but this only seals your doom. Sorry. The cards have spoken. Would you be so kind and remove your shirt? …while I try to find some rope.
Some nights I was found guilty of disturbing bored girls at their pajama party. They sat on my limbs and fought over territories.
After a while I found out that some dominas offered tickle torture in their studios. I’ve spent so many dreams in all those dungeons...
And sometimes I just created some hot women in my head and admitted: “I’m out of ideas, but who cares. We all know why we’re here. Why don’t you just destroy me?”
Finally, I allowed myself to take action. I imagined how it might feel tickling a woman. I needed scenarios where there was consent. Like tickle games, endurance tests and teasing sex. I imagined the 69 position in bondage where hands couldn’t defend, but reach the lower body of the opponent – tummy stretched and legs spread wide. Other nights I played dice games where you payed your depts by stripping clothes. The only way to get clothes back was if you agreed to get tied on the table until the next victim was out of clothes.
I loved the idea of meeting my soul mate who loved to be lee and ler – just like myself. And I loved games where we took turns on each other and had a bet running who would give up first. More and more often these fantasies ended up in romantic sex and the sick tickling fetish transformed over time into some “weird foreplay”. It felt more natural, and healthy. I felt ready for a relationship.
That was nice an all. But no matter how much I accepted my kink and no matter how creative my stories were, one question remained unsolved in the back of my brain: Am I actually ticklish? And if yes, how much can I take?
The fear of not being ticklish was bad. This led my mind to according stories. I imagined visiting a sensibilization clinic where my nerves got recalibrated. I took made up drugs and endured any treatment, as long as it increased my sensitivity. I harvested the sweat of a horny ticklish fairy and got three wishes from ghosts in a lamp. The dreams were nice but the reality was scary. What if… And what if not…?
I was so curious and the possibility to pay a domina was very tempting. I had the money and getting to the next big city wasn’t a problem. But the idea of having my cherry popped in a SM studio just didn’t feel right. I did not want to have this secret whenever someone asked me about my first time with a woman. This meant for me to renounce and hope for a one-night-stand or something. Which was an issue. Since I was shy. And not good in flirting. I was stuck.
Chapter 3: Actually, experiencing the touch
Seriously. I never thought, I would get this far. Like… ever. But there was this girl who actually showed some interest. And after a while I said to myself: “Damn, isn’t it her fault if she really likes me?”, and I invited her to the cinema. And it went well for a while. Actual hands touching my body… how exciting! But it turned out very quickly, that she wasn’t too curious in “Experimental Stuff”. My belly twitched when she ran her fingers over my skin and it felt very nice. I didn’t miss my weird scenarios all too much. It was a nice relationship and the sex was great. Though, after a while it didn’t work out. We broke up. It was a nice time.
It took a while until I was ready to move on. But I wanted to try a professional before getting into another relationship. I was very nervous and it took some time of research and for gathering courage to pick up the phone and admit: “Hello, I would like to experience something…”. Turns out, my dream was not that uncommon as i thought and the woman on the other end was really nice. “Sure, we can do that”, she said and suddenly I had an appointment with a Bizarre Lady. She tied me up and touched me the way I asked for. It felt nice, but there was no tickling. I mean, yes, there was some twitching, and her fingernails were electrocuting my body, but the restrains were not even necessary. I could have endured it for hours and still asking for more. Yet, the idea of losing myself and going trough heaven and hell at the same time was just not happening. It was petting. Nice, exciting and amazing sensations, but no tickle torture. FUCK! I – AM – NOT – TICKLISH!
Maybe the lady was too young? Maybe I needed a real expert in this area. So, I tried again. I booked another session in another location and turns out they offered a special where three ladies took turns. And they have this table where arms and legs can be restrained in X-Shape. “Well, at least I could experience the table of my fantasies”, I thought and went there. And I found out that I was a little ticklish on my back and armpits. Again, the experience was very nice, but not even close as extreme as I wished for. Shit… Never mind.
So, I went into the next relationship. That girl turned out to be way more interested in “Experimental Games” as the first one. I admitted that I had this curiosity about tickling and that I was wondering how that felt. Her reaction was a smile. Instead of running away from the kinky freak I was, she accepted the challenge with a big nasty grin. Hell, she really wanted to do me that favor, and in retrospect I suspect she actually liked being a little dominant. With fire in her eyes she bound my arms together and attacked my armpits. And that was it. I went crazy. I couldn’t guess why, but I became ticklish in this very moment. I squirmed and groaned, pulled and fought, and It was heaven and hell. Not as bad as I thought it would be, but close. It was that day that I suspected that there was some psychological thing going on in my brain, like a tickle switch. Yes. An actual switch. One moment she could go crazy on my body and I would ask for more without any need of shackles. Another moment I would get insane and curse the day I was born. I mean… what the hell? What is going on? Am I ticklish or am I not? The confusion was frustrating, but here I was. The universe granted me my experience in being ticklish. I guess… I shouldn’t complain, right?
Finally, the third relationship was an eye opener. And I found out what was going on: My body has different modes. Yes. My body has a tickle mode. I can be ticklish now and not ticklish later. There is a real switch in my mind which a cannot control. And the key is emotions and the current mind-set.
When I feel secure and in control, snuggling in her arms while I’m convinced that nothing in this world could ever do any harm to me, she can touch me wherever she wants. I would twitch left and right, some spasm here and there. No biggie. She can do her worst while I would beg for more. In fact, she can jerk me off and I would even appreciate a mean post orgasm torture (okay, some shackles are necessary for that – but I guess you get my point).
Though, as soon as I feel NOT in control, she can give me hell. I had a moment when I was trying to do the dishes while she was in “the mood” and her hands went down my pants. I don’t know exactly how and why, but I ended up on the floor squirming and laughing while begging her to stop. I think my mind was set on finishing the dishes while her touch was disturbing, intruding and teasing. It was a playful fight. She was hugging me from behind. My hands were occupied with cups and plates while her fingers played with my groin. I couldn’t get away and my pleas were denied. I lost. She won. That was it. My body became more and more ticklish the more I realized how hopeless my struggles were. It went so far that I couldn’t even fight back and I had no choice but to endure the helpless laughs and wait. Because I needed my whole energy for inhaling from time to time.
Another dangerous situation is a laughing fit. As soon as a situation makes me giddy, any tickling drives me crazy. Part of me wants it so stop and I cannot handle the fingers on my tummy – while another part of my brain enjoys being tickled, of course. It’s amazing, but torture. I mean, really. It gets hard to breathe and there is a thunderstorm in my head demanding the sensation to stop.
In conclusion I found out that for my brain tickling is a playful defense mechanism. It does not work if I’m asking for it. Somebody has to push open my doors while I try to keep them closed.
On the other hand, there is a state of being super sensitive in a blissful way. For that experience you need to restrain your partner. Let him/her known that there are some toys available, like feathers, oil and vibrators. Use a blindfold and (if available) some noise cancelling headphones to make your partner’s world going dark. Then wait. Watch your partner getting confused. After a while you should be able to observe some random twitches and nervous groans. That’s the moment when it’s time to strike with the feather. Never start with the bullseye. Instead choose a random spot, like an elbow or the knee. Don’t go wild, just execute an innocent, light sensation. If your partner seems to be startled you’ve done a good job. That’s the moment he/she realizes that there is an exciting trip ahead.
And never underestimate the power of anticipation. Imagine getting tied up. There is no way to escape. Your legs are spread. The condom is already placed on the night desk. The bedroom smells nice because of the joss sticks on the shelf and the candles provide some romantic light. Your partner smiles. Your partner leaves the bedroom. You are confused. Then you hear your partner cleaning the kitchen. You cannot believe your ears. This is actually happening. You are alone in the bedroom. The straps are comfortable and loose, but tight enough to make you feel trapped. You are alone with your thoughts. And your thoughts drive cycles. There is a feather and the blindfold on the shelf. And your partner could come back any moment. There is a vacuum cleaner noise from the living room. “Are you serious?”, you shout. The vacuum cleaner is turned off and there are steps approaching. The look on your partners face makes you shiver. “Naughty much?”, your partner smiles. “You better rest. You will need your energy soon enough.” Your partner shuts the door. You are alone again. You hear the key turning, you hear he lock clicking. Then you hear the vacuum cleaner again. From the living room. Getting closer.
Another conclusion is, that even if my partner does not share my fetish in particular, this does not mean that there is no common ground. The base of our relationship is mutual respect and general curiosity. If I am allowed to have my weird desires, weaknesses and faults, she is allowed to have hers. This creates the base for freedom, liberty and confidence. And - oh my god -, having a curious, confident and playful girlfriend is the best! We visit sex shops and talk about anything without any concerns. If an experiment goes wrong, who cares? Let’s try another one. Trial and error. No matter what we try. As soon as I end up in bed with my girl, I want her to enjoy her time. The only thing I care about is to make her horny and I love discovering any new secret buttons to push. And guess what: she is human, too. She also wants to make me horny and push my buttons and as soon as I fall into my tickle mode she gets excited and goes like “Oh, look at you. Isn’t that what you like?”. Well, good luck trying to convince her to stop in such a moment. No chance.
It’s weird, but my wet dreams have become different over time. I still like the scenario of machines tickling me to insanity, but not as much as in the past. Right now, I dream of a body touching mine. A nude hug on a sofa, feeling safe and loved. Tickling is not the center of my imaginary sex life anymore, but an exciting foreplay. Sex is now the sensation of touch. Sharing a moment of bliss. The trust, love and all the sappy clichés you cannot stand anymore because they have been mentioned in too many movies, books and songs. But it’s true. No worries. Just holding each other, trade touches and kisses, and from time to time get the leather shackles from the toy-chest because somebody needs to get taught a lesson.
I’ve been here for so long, enjoying so many stories, I think it’s time to share some experience and give you something back. In this post I want to take you on journey. I want to describe how I discovered my fetish and how my phantasies evolved. Finally I would like to share real life experiences like sessions in SM-Studios and coming out to girls.
Prologue: First memories
I’ve been fascinated by tickling since I was not even 10 years old, even though I’ve never been tickled much in my life. Or maybe this is actually the reason. The curiosity which never got answered might have turned into a fetish during puberty and – you might have guessed – I’m one of these guys who enjoyed the company of a girl in mid 20s.
I remember being around 12 years old, when me and my friends had some kind of “trial of courage” where one was supposed to be held down and tickled by the rest. I was really excited about the chance to experience that mysterious sensation. I didn’t go first and saw the brutal force they put into the stomach. I felt very uncomfortable. So I refused and I was offered the soft mode. I was rolled into a thick blanket so that only my feet were exposed. It was … boring. And even a bit painful. Not horrible or traumatic… just disappointing. At this time, I became afraid of not being ticklish at all.
Chapter 1: Just robots allowed
I always was so unsecure about myself and my sexuality, that even the thought of a real person tickling me was forbidden. So I imagined being tickled by robots and machines. This turns me on so very much up to this day. I imagine being held down by robot arms and strapped into relentless devices. I’m fascinated by the idea of having a count-down on a screen, building up the anticipation while the hydraulics bend my body into super vulnerable positions. Of course, the computer follows the most devious sequence to maximize the result.
It always starts at the least ticklish spots and moves step by step to the more sensitive parts of my body. This is something like the “Scan-Phase” to measure and calibrate everything for the following steps. The “Advanced Training” part of the program starts with some minor inconvenience torture. The sensation jumps from one spot to another, executing various ways of stimulation while randomly modifying the intensity. It begins with one stimulator, followed up by a second one which mirrors the sensations on the opposite side. After that phase I’m aware that the machine knows my body better than myself.
Then it’s time for the teasing part. It includes all kinds of experiences. I usually I put in some breaks between steps to calm down and make use of the anticipation game. I force myself to proceed from one room to another which holds an even more angst-inducing device than the last one. I put myself on conveyor belt systems, imagine slippery slides and padded transportation pods. Robot arms push and drags me from one place to another, my hogtied body is carried around. I lov the situation where one door opens and another closes, and I am supposed to comply. I crawl through narrow mazes with traps and run trough corridors where the floor is covered with tiny brushes and oily suction cups. Oh yes, there was a time I was totally into suction cups. Imagine the whole floor is completely covered with little suction cups and inside there are tiny brushes and electrodes stimulating whatever they are attached to. You have to proceed, there is no other way. And you can see the open door on the other end. You start running and each step produces dozens of smacking sounds. You think you can take it and you run faster. At some point the floor gets softer and more slippery, it’s getting harder to make the next step. And suddenly the suction cups are not mounted to the floor anymore. They are attached to some kind of string or cable that extend out of the floor. The cups remain on your skin, continue the stimulation. The wires make you trip and stumble. Before you know what’s happening you fall down and the next thing you realize is that your whole body is covered in suction cups. And no matter how much you roll over and wipe the things off, there is always a few driving you crazy.
Yes, my phantasy was all about being processed like a piece of ticklish meat. Pretty much like in the game “Portal” there was always some reason for all the effort, all the machines and robots to exist. Sometimes I put myself into a testing facility, on another day I chose being cured or punished for some crime I didn’t commit. Any reason was good enough, as long as I knew that there was no escape.
I imagine standing in front of a table where a full set of tickle clothes waits for me. The slippery fabric is buzzing and humming because the vibrating pads inside are already turned on. And I am supposed to slip in voluntarily while the stimulators are operating on low intensity. I play the phantasy in my mind where I carefully take the jumpsuit and boots, touch the inner fabric to realize what I am supposed to endure. (I think that scene is the reason why I like latex clothes…). I always refuse to comply, love the mindset of not to giving in, because I want to get into the situation where I’m forced to choose the lesser evil. Sometimes I punish myself with extra minutes of “Full intensity torture” for each second I waited – like “You have to endure it anyway, it’s your choice how long it lasts”. Sometimes I imagine being taken into a “TimeOut Punishment Chamber” where I’m educated to behave. This is often an excellent chance to play games like “Count to 10 while each number increases the intensity. And don’t you dare counting too fast”. I also love games with choices, like “Hold still for 10 seconds or endure a whole minute in shackles”.
With each new scene the experience has to became more and more intense, which requires more exposing poses and more effective ways to restrain my limbs. It often starts in a standing position with my arms pulled to the side or over my head. I’m able to make some steps to the left and right, kick and jump until more shackles subdued my legs.
Up to this day I came up with benches and frames which force me into a kneeling position. That’s the most exposing pose for teasing. It leaves room for some helpless wiggling and struggling, while there is no sensitive spot on my skin which is not accessible. A great setup for rotating feathers and twitching rubber tentacles closing in – from left and right, front and back. And suddenly the legs get spread and more stuff rises from the bottom.
There are chairs in my imaginary dungeon, with moving armrests, pulling my arms apart to enable full access to the armpits. The flipping back rest is necessary to provide the comfortable sitting position where the ribcage can be treated, as well as the option for slowly bending backwards until I end up lying-belly-up. And then there is always something like an inflatable pillow at my lower back because I need the feature “Sretch-and-bend-your-immobile-tummy” for the obligatory “tease the navel” scene. I put my legs wherever I needed them. The chair becomes a rack when the abdomen and hips have to be stimulated. Spread eagle is mandatory for thighs and groin. And when it’s time to focus on the genitals the whole contraption transformed into a to gyn chair.
For all those scenes I need my restraints to be merciless and rugged, though they’re not allowed to cause any distracting pain. That’s why metal and wood was never my first choice. I always preferred soft and oily rubber straps over leather. And since I know the nice feeling of halfway inflated water balloons, I like methods that involves inflating objects. Sometimes I put my limbs into wide shackles and imagined the inner wall to hold a rubber sleeve. Depending on my mood it can be filed with warm water or compressing air. Imagine something like many water wings in a long metal tube. No matter how much you struggle, there is no escape. Hell, yeah. I dreamt of latex vacuum beds before I even knew it existed. Can you imagine the moment I realized that such a thing is actually for sale? On the internet? Oh my…
That’s how it begun. Closing my eyes, teasing my skin with my fingers and ending up in fantastic ticklegasms where in my head I was strapped down tightly, surrounded by countless arms, pads and brushes, vibrators and tentacles, being tickled way beyond my limits and finally jerking off while in my story I’m being milked by some silicone tube with some post orgasm torture (because I was not complying before).
Chapter 2: Not alone
As you can guess, at some point I discovered the more hidden places of the internet. I found pictures, stories and even videos. There were women taped to the wall while their beautiful tummies were tickled mercilessly. Beautiful bodies restrained to beds, racks and chairs… Fingernails, feathers and brushes… And so many stories… I found so many digital treasures, inspirations and teasing ideas. But what I found was not only sexy, but an exciting relief. Hell, up to that moment I was convinced to be the only guy in the world who likes tickling, because everybody usually hates it. And I don’t only like it, no, I find a massive erotic kink in that. With this isolation in mind I found people like you. Yes, like you, reading this text this very moment. Okay, I still felt alone because this preference is quite a small niche, compared to all the other stuff that involves shackles. But I didn’t feel “unique” alone anymore.
In conclusion, this not only provided a tiny, unrealistic chance to find somebody I could share and experience this fantasy. There was something even more important. I allowed myself to include women into my stories. I mean, yes. There are people who hate tickling. But why shouldn’t I come up with people who like it? Making this step was hard, but healthy. It felt ok, as long as I was the “victim”.
At the beginning I was really shy. The scenarios were limited to some doctor plays where I was still processed in a lab or clinic. Not very romantic, but still a huge step into the right direction. I started to feel less ashamed, more curious about my sexuality and my body. And after a while I felt more comfortable with my preferences.
One scenario was the idea of visiting a service company which offered to evaluate and adjust my ticklishness. Of course, such a session started with the obligatory contracts and self-assessments I had to fill out. And by the time I made my crosses in the waiver I was already rock hard.
- The analysis includes following body parts: … … …
- In order to make the treatment possible I agree to follow instructions and comply with the given process.
- The use of restraints can be arranged at any point.
- Individual requests during the procedure are generally disregarded.
- During the treatment a supervisor is required to provide guardianship.
- …
I signed, let me lead to the changing room and took my shower. I put on a latex bathrobe and stepped into the elevator. The elevator took me downstairs. Deep into the basement where no windows provided any escape route.
Another nice scenario was the embarrassing idea of a conversation ending up in the question: “What, you like to be tickled?”. The use of “Truth or Dare” was too easy, so I had to come up with more creative ways that actually could happen. For instance, imagine a girl being bored and playful silly. She pulls out a memory card game and pretends them to be tarot cards. You start predicting each other’s future by trying to interpret innocent motives like cats, houses and cars. At some point she asks herself what both of you should do after the game and the card shows the picture of a bed. “Oh, I guess you’re tired”, she says and frowns theatrically. The next card makes her giggle “I like where this is going…” as it shows a picture of a rope. But as the third card shows a white feather your head becomes a red blushing alarm light. You make some poor attempts to play it cool and to find another interpretation but this only seals your doom. Sorry. The cards have spoken. Would you be so kind and remove your shirt? …while I try to find some rope.
Some nights I was found guilty of disturbing bored girls at their pajama party. They sat on my limbs and fought over territories.
After a while I found out that some dominas offered tickle torture in their studios. I’ve spent so many dreams in all those dungeons...
And sometimes I just created some hot women in my head and admitted: “I’m out of ideas, but who cares. We all know why we’re here. Why don’t you just destroy me?”
Finally, I allowed myself to take action. I imagined how it might feel tickling a woman. I needed scenarios where there was consent. Like tickle games, endurance tests and teasing sex. I imagined the 69 position in bondage where hands couldn’t defend, but reach the lower body of the opponent – tummy stretched and legs spread wide. Other nights I played dice games where you payed your depts by stripping clothes. The only way to get clothes back was if you agreed to get tied on the table until the next victim was out of clothes.
I loved the idea of meeting my soul mate who loved to be lee and ler – just like myself. And I loved games where we took turns on each other and had a bet running who would give up first. More and more often these fantasies ended up in romantic sex and the sick tickling fetish transformed over time into some “weird foreplay”. It felt more natural, and healthy. I felt ready for a relationship.
That was nice an all. But no matter how much I accepted my kink and no matter how creative my stories were, one question remained unsolved in the back of my brain: Am I actually ticklish? And if yes, how much can I take?
The fear of not being ticklish was bad. This led my mind to according stories. I imagined visiting a sensibilization clinic where my nerves got recalibrated. I took made up drugs and endured any treatment, as long as it increased my sensitivity. I harvested the sweat of a horny ticklish fairy and got three wishes from ghosts in a lamp. The dreams were nice but the reality was scary. What if… And what if not…?
I was so curious and the possibility to pay a domina was very tempting. I had the money and getting to the next big city wasn’t a problem. But the idea of having my cherry popped in a SM studio just didn’t feel right. I did not want to have this secret whenever someone asked me about my first time with a woman. This meant for me to renounce and hope for a one-night-stand or something. Which was an issue. Since I was shy. And not good in flirting. I was stuck.
Chapter 3: Actually, experiencing the touch
Seriously. I never thought, I would get this far. Like… ever. But there was this girl who actually showed some interest. And after a while I said to myself: “Damn, isn’t it her fault if she really likes me?”, and I invited her to the cinema. And it went well for a while. Actual hands touching my body… how exciting! But it turned out very quickly, that she wasn’t too curious in “Experimental Stuff”. My belly twitched when she ran her fingers over my skin and it felt very nice. I didn’t miss my weird scenarios all too much. It was a nice relationship and the sex was great. Though, after a while it didn’t work out. We broke up. It was a nice time.
It took a while until I was ready to move on. But I wanted to try a professional before getting into another relationship. I was very nervous and it took some time of research and for gathering courage to pick up the phone and admit: “Hello, I would like to experience something…”. Turns out, my dream was not that uncommon as i thought and the woman on the other end was really nice. “Sure, we can do that”, she said and suddenly I had an appointment with a Bizarre Lady. She tied me up and touched me the way I asked for. It felt nice, but there was no tickling. I mean, yes, there was some twitching, and her fingernails were electrocuting my body, but the restrains were not even necessary. I could have endured it for hours and still asking for more. Yet, the idea of losing myself and going trough heaven and hell at the same time was just not happening. It was petting. Nice, exciting and amazing sensations, but no tickle torture. FUCK! I – AM – NOT – TICKLISH!
Maybe the lady was too young? Maybe I needed a real expert in this area. So, I tried again. I booked another session in another location and turns out they offered a special where three ladies took turns. And they have this table where arms and legs can be restrained in X-Shape. “Well, at least I could experience the table of my fantasies”, I thought and went there. And I found out that I was a little ticklish on my back and armpits. Again, the experience was very nice, but not even close as extreme as I wished for. Shit… Never mind.
So, I went into the next relationship. That girl turned out to be way more interested in “Experimental Games” as the first one. I admitted that I had this curiosity about tickling and that I was wondering how that felt. Her reaction was a smile. Instead of running away from the kinky freak I was, she accepted the challenge with a big nasty grin. Hell, she really wanted to do me that favor, and in retrospect I suspect she actually liked being a little dominant. With fire in her eyes she bound my arms together and attacked my armpits. And that was it. I went crazy. I couldn’t guess why, but I became ticklish in this very moment. I squirmed and groaned, pulled and fought, and It was heaven and hell. Not as bad as I thought it would be, but close. It was that day that I suspected that there was some psychological thing going on in my brain, like a tickle switch. Yes. An actual switch. One moment she could go crazy on my body and I would ask for more without any need of shackles. Another moment I would get insane and curse the day I was born. I mean… what the hell? What is going on? Am I ticklish or am I not? The confusion was frustrating, but here I was. The universe granted me my experience in being ticklish. I guess… I shouldn’t complain, right?
Finally, the third relationship was an eye opener. And I found out what was going on: My body has different modes. Yes. My body has a tickle mode. I can be ticklish now and not ticklish later. There is a real switch in my mind which a cannot control. And the key is emotions and the current mind-set.
When I feel secure and in control, snuggling in her arms while I’m convinced that nothing in this world could ever do any harm to me, she can touch me wherever she wants. I would twitch left and right, some spasm here and there. No biggie. She can do her worst while I would beg for more. In fact, she can jerk me off and I would even appreciate a mean post orgasm torture (okay, some shackles are necessary for that – but I guess you get my point).
Though, as soon as I feel NOT in control, she can give me hell. I had a moment when I was trying to do the dishes while she was in “the mood” and her hands went down my pants. I don’t know exactly how and why, but I ended up on the floor squirming and laughing while begging her to stop. I think my mind was set on finishing the dishes while her touch was disturbing, intruding and teasing. It was a playful fight. She was hugging me from behind. My hands were occupied with cups and plates while her fingers played with my groin. I couldn’t get away and my pleas were denied. I lost. She won. That was it. My body became more and more ticklish the more I realized how hopeless my struggles were. It went so far that I couldn’t even fight back and I had no choice but to endure the helpless laughs and wait. Because I needed my whole energy for inhaling from time to time.
Another dangerous situation is a laughing fit. As soon as a situation makes me giddy, any tickling drives me crazy. Part of me wants it so stop and I cannot handle the fingers on my tummy – while another part of my brain enjoys being tickled, of course. It’s amazing, but torture. I mean, really. It gets hard to breathe and there is a thunderstorm in my head demanding the sensation to stop.
In conclusion I found out that for my brain tickling is a playful defense mechanism. It does not work if I’m asking for it. Somebody has to push open my doors while I try to keep them closed.
On the other hand, there is a state of being super sensitive in a blissful way. For that experience you need to restrain your partner. Let him/her known that there are some toys available, like feathers, oil and vibrators. Use a blindfold and (if available) some noise cancelling headphones to make your partner’s world going dark. Then wait. Watch your partner getting confused. After a while you should be able to observe some random twitches and nervous groans. That’s the moment when it’s time to strike with the feather. Never start with the bullseye. Instead choose a random spot, like an elbow or the knee. Don’t go wild, just execute an innocent, light sensation. If your partner seems to be startled you’ve done a good job. That’s the moment he/she realizes that there is an exciting trip ahead.
And never underestimate the power of anticipation. Imagine getting tied up. There is no way to escape. Your legs are spread. The condom is already placed on the night desk. The bedroom smells nice because of the joss sticks on the shelf and the candles provide some romantic light. Your partner smiles. Your partner leaves the bedroom. You are confused. Then you hear your partner cleaning the kitchen. You cannot believe your ears. This is actually happening. You are alone in the bedroom. The straps are comfortable and loose, but tight enough to make you feel trapped. You are alone with your thoughts. And your thoughts drive cycles. There is a feather and the blindfold on the shelf. And your partner could come back any moment. There is a vacuum cleaner noise from the living room. “Are you serious?”, you shout. The vacuum cleaner is turned off and there are steps approaching. The look on your partners face makes you shiver. “Naughty much?”, your partner smiles. “You better rest. You will need your energy soon enough.” Your partner shuts the door. You are alone again. You hear the key turning, you hear he lock clicking. Then you hear the vacuum cleaner again. From the living room. Getting closer.
Another conclusion is, that even if my partner does not share my fetish in particular, this does not mean that there is no common ground. The base of our relationship is mutual respect and general curiosity. If I am allowed to have my weird desires, weaknesses and faults, she is allowed to have hers. This creates the base for freedom, liberty and confidence. And - oh my god -, having a curious, confident and playful girlfriend is the best! We visit sex shops and talk about anything without any concerns. If an experiment goes wrong, who cares? Let’s try another one. Trial and error. No matter what we try. As soon as I end up in bed with my girl, I want her to enjoy her time. The only thing I care about is to make her horny and I love discovering any new secret buttons to push. And guess what: she is human, too. She also wants to make me horny and push my buttons and as soon as I fall into my tickle mode she gets excited and goes like “Oh, look at you. Isn’t that what you like?”. Well, good luck trying to convince her to stop in such a moment. No chance.
It’s weird, but my wet dreams have become different over time. I still like the scenario of machines tickling me to insanity, but not as much as in the past. Right now, I dream of a body touching mine. A nude hug on a sofa, feeling safe and loved. Tickling is not the center of my imaginary sex life anymore, but an exciting foreplay. Sex is now the sensation of touch. Sharing a moment of bliss. The trust, love and all the sappy clichés you cannot stand anymore because they have been mentioned in too many movies, books and songs. But it’s true. No worries. Just holding each other, trade touches and kisses, and from time to time get the leather shackles from the toy-chest because somebody needs to get taught a lesson.
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