LosingControl
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- Mar 12, 2016
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Back in college, I dated a girl named Sarah for about a year and a half. Although we both went to the same school, we only ended up meeting on a year abroad program that we were both on together.
Sarah was a difficult person, to put it mildly. She was intense, intelligent, and verbally cutting. Not an easy going person, by any sense of the word, Sarah always had this nervous, frenetic energy about her, which tended to make other people uncomfortable. None of my friends liked her - literally, none of them - which tends to say a lot.
Physically, she had the looks to match her personality. This wasn't a bad thing, as Sarah was certainly an attractive girl. She was an interesting mix of Caucasian, Lebanese, and I think 1/8th Japanese - very striking looking. She had long, dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and pale skin. She was relatively short - about 5'5 - and kept herself in good shape. Think lean and toned, but not built.
Sarah was also absolutely nutso ticklish. Perhaps one of the most ticklish girls I have ever met. And, like many incredibly ticklish people, Sarah absolutely HATED to be tickled.
Actually, it went further than that: Sarah hated tickling, period. She thought it was just about the meanest, most sadistic thing you could do to someone. Early in our relationship, she described a tickle fight between a couple we knew, where the guy was pinned down and tickled by his girlfriend and a couple of their friends. You could see the horror in her face as she told me this story in harrowing detail, and she seemed genuinely baffled that anyone would do that to someone else.
Now, as someone who has always loved tickling, this quickly established some boundaries in our relationship that I obviously wasn't happy about, but generally respected. Tickling her was pretty much off limits, at least at first. However, as time went on, I began to slowly incorporate tickling games into the relationship. For example, when we were hanging out in bed together, I would cradle her foot in one hand, and then softly run my finger up her sole, while maintaining conversation. The tickling was very mild, gentle - just a soft, playful stroking of a single finger, up and down her bare sole. She would try her best to maintain her composure during these games, stifling giggles and twitches as we continued talking. Being such a type A personality, I think that she kind of enjoyed the challenge of keeping still, especially since I was taking it about as easy on her as possible, and also not drawing too much attention to that fact that this was indeed a form of tickling.
Of course, I frequently fantasized about really tickling Sarah. The kind of tickling that would reduce her to a pleading mess of laugher. The kind of tickling that would break her otherwise regal composure.
Then, one fateful day, I had my chance.
She was in my dorm room one afternoon, just hanging out, talking, and listening to music. I left for about 10 minutes to get some food, and when I returned Sarah was sitting there with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. Actually, they were my handcuffs! She had been snooping around in my desk drawers while I was out, and had came across a couple toys I had stashed away - handcuffs, a blind fold, and some rope. These toys had predated my relationship with Sarah, and I had not even attempted to introduce any of them.
Well, it turned out Sarah was in quite a playful mood, and was curious about what the handcuffs were for. I smiled at her coyly, and asked if she'd ever been handcuffed before. It turns out that she had - but only for a few minutes by one of her ex boyfriends, who briefly restrained her with those cheap, fake cuffs, and then let her out a few minutes later. Hardly eventful. Anyway, I could tell that she was intrigued, so I took the cuffs from her, lifted up her left arm, and locked the metal cuff around her left wrist. She seemed fine with this, clearly interested in where the whole thing was going. I then gently turned her around, so that her back was facing me, and brought both arms behind her back, cuffing them together.
After that, she sat down on my bed, wiggling around and seeing if she could escape. She couldn't; the cuffs were on tight, and she was stuck. We continued talking for a couple minutes, while my mind raced for ways to capitalize on this situation. Thankfully, Sarah soon provided me with just the opportunity that I needed, and began mocking something that I had said. Her tone was kind of nasty, as if she was trying to get a rise out of me. I told her to apologize, she refused, and I knew that this was my shot.
Before overthinking it, I firmly grabbed Sarah by the shoulders, and flipped her over so that she was lying on her stomach, with her hands still cuffed behind her back. I then scooted down to the end of the bed, so that I was sitting on her upturned ankles, staring down at her sock-covered feet.
She was loudly protesting by this point, but I don't think that she actually expected me to tickle her. There was no precedent for this in our relationship, so she would have had no reason to. I savored the moment as she struggled for about 30 seconds, before giving up and huffing a couple obscenities at me. She was trapped, but still as feisty as ever, still refusing to apologize for what she had said.
I then slowly slipped off her white ankle socks, one after the other, leaving her vulnerable, soft bare soles facing up at me, trapped under the full weight of my body. Her feet were about a size 6, narrow, very soft, and were lightly pink on the bottoms. I took one of my fingers and began to slowly trace it up and down her right sole. This immediately sent her body into convulsions, and she bucked hard trying to shake me off. It was no use; I'm a pretty big guy, considerably stronger than her, so she wasn't going anywhere.
Then I decided to really go for it. I brought my hands down to her twitching feet, and started scribbling my fingers up and down her defenseless soles. She instantly let out a high pitched scream, and started frantically begging me to stop.
"PLEAAAASEEEEE STOPPPP, AHHH HAHHAHHAH HAHAHAHHAAHAA".
I didn't say anything back, and just kept methodically tickling her sensitive feet as she desperately thrashed to get free. I kept this up for about a minute, as she intensified her pleading and begging for me to stop. She was breathing hard by this point, and clearly tired, so I decided to give her a break. As soon as I did, she lay there trying to catch her breath, taking in the reality of her predicament, before trying to reason with me:
"Please, you don't know how much I hate being tickled. I can't stand it. Seriously, you don't understand".
I told her that I knew exactly how ticklish she was, and that I was going to teach her a lesson for being so rude to me before.
"Sarah, here's what's going to happen", I calmly told her. "I'm going to tickle you for another 3 minutes, without any breaks, and then I'll let you go."
"No, you can't", she pleaded.
But before she could get another word out, I resumed tickling her feet with both hands, ruthlessly scraping my nails on her soles. As my nails made contact with her feet, she let out a loud howl of protest, before quickly descending into breathless laughter.
"HAHAHAH, STOOPPPP, PLEEAASSEEE, I CAN'T, I CAN'T, AHHHHH HAHHHHAAAAAHAAHA."
I didn't stop, and instead kept up a steady tempo, mercilessly tickling her delicate arches with both hands. As I did this, she alternated between screeching and spluttering with helpless laughter.
"I'M SORRY, AHHAHA, I'M AHHAH FUCKING SORRY AHAHAHHA".
"I accept your gracious apology, Sarah", I said, "but you've still got 1 minute left".
And with that, I grabbed her big toes with my left hand, holding them together between my thumb and forefinger. Using the fingers on my right hand, I started tickling the exposed skin on the underside of both big toes. I have found that this tends to drive people absolutely crazy, and Sarah was no different. She now couldn't move her feet at all, and as I persistently tickled her trapped big toes, she became a complete mess of unbroken laughter.
"AHHHAHAH HAHAHAHAH HAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA".
After 1 minute, true to my word, I stopped tickling her. She was a complete mess - her face beat red and she was covered in sweat. Even her feet were sweating by that point! Her mascara was running down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, as she lay there quietly trying to catch her breath. Within 3 short minutes, she had gone from being her petulant, adversarial self, to being unrecognizably defeated and broken. I knew that she had enough, more than enough, so I got off of her ankles, undid the handcuffs, and lay there next to her on the bed. She didn't speak to me for about 10 minutes, and when she finally did it was only to call me a string of obscenities before storming out of my room.
Yup, Sarah was pissed, and I had to do a lot of mansplaining to dig myself out of it. Soon enough, though, she forgave me, and we continued dating for almost another year before breaking up (for unrelated reasons).
Sadly, I never did tickle Sarah again, although over the coming months she grew increasingly interested in tickling me, perhaps in an attempt to regain the control she lost that day.
Sarah was a difficult person, to put it mildly. She was intense, intelligent, and verbally cutting. Not an easy going person, by any sense of the word, Sarah always had this nervous, frenetic energy about her, which tended to make other people uncomfortable. None of my friends liked her - literally, none of them - which tends to say a lot.
Physically, she had the looks to match her personality. This wasn't a bad thing, as Sarah was certainly an attractive girl. She was an interesting mix of Caucasian, Lebanese, and I think 1/8th Japanese - very striking looking. She had long, dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and pale skin. She was relatively short - about 5'5 - and kept herself in good shape. Think lean and toned, but not built.
Sarah was also absolutely nutso ticklish. Perhaps one of the most ticklish girls I have ever met. And, like many incredibly ticklish people, Sarah absolutely HATED to be tickled.
Actually, it went further than that: Sarah hated tickling, period. She thought it was just about the meanest, most sadistic thing you could do to someone. Early in our relationship, she described a tickle fight between a couple we knew, where the guy was pinned down and tickled by his girlfriend and a couple of their friends. You could see the horror in her face as she told me this story in harrowing detail, and she seemed genuinely baffled that anyone would do that to someone else.
Now, as someone who has always loved tickling, this quickly established some boundaries in our relationship that I obviously wasn't happy about, but generally respected. Tickling her was pretty much off limits, at least at first. However, as time went on, I began to slowly incorporate tickling games into the relationship. For example, when we were hanging out in bed together, I would cradle her foot in one hand, and then softly run my finger up her sole, while maintaining conversation. The tickling was very mild, gentle - just a soft, playful stroking of a single finger, up and down her bare sole. She would try her best to maintain her composure during these games, stifling giggles and twitches as we continued talking. Being such a type A personality, I think that she kind of enjoyed the challenge of keeping still, especially since I was taking it about as easy on her as possible, and also not drawing too much attention to that fact that this was indeed a form of tickling.
Of course, I frequently fantasized about really tickling Sarah. The kind of tickling that would reduce her to a pleading mess of laugher. The kind of tickling that would break her otherwise regal composure.
Then, one fateful day, I had my chance.
She was in my dorm room one afternoon, just hanging out, talking, and listening to music. I left for about 10 minutes to get some food, and when I returned Sarah was sitting there with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. Actually, they were my handcuffs! She had been snooping around in my desk drawers while I was out, and had came across a couple toys I had stashed away - handcuffs, a blind fold, and some rope. These toys had predated my relationship with Sarah, and I had not even attempted to introduce any of them.
Well, it turned out Sarah was in quite a playful mood, and was curious about what the handcuffs were for. I smiled at her coyly, and asked if she'd ever been handcuffed before. It turns out that she had - but only for a few minutes by one of her ex boyfriends, who briefly restrained her with those cheap, fake cuffs, and then let her out a few minutes later. Hardly eventful. Anyway, I could tell that she was intrigued, so I took the cuffs from her, lifted up her left arm, and locked the metal cuff around her left wrist. She seemed fine with this, clearly interested in where the whole thing was going. I then gently turned her around, so that her back was facing me, and brought both arms behind her back, cuffing them together.
After that, she sat down on my bed, wiggling around and seeing if she could escape. She couldn't; the cuffs were on tight, and she was stuck. We continued talking for a couple minutes, while my mind raced for ways to capitalize on this situation. Thankfully, Sarah soon provided me with just the opportunity that I needed, and began mocking something that I had said. Her tone was kind of nasty, as if she was trying to get a rise out of me. I told her to apologize, she refused, and I knew that this was my shot.
Before overthinking it, I firmly grabbed Sarah by the shoulders, and flipped her over so that she was lying on her stomach, with her hands still cuffed behind her back. I then scooted down to the end of the bed, so that I was sitting on her upturned ankles, staring down at her sock-covered feet.
She was loudly protesting by this point, but I don't think that she actually expected me to tickle her. There was no precedent for this in our relationship, so she would have had no reason to. I savored the moment as she struggled for about 30 seconds, before giving up and huffing a couple obscenities at me. She was trapped, but still as feisty as ever, still refusing to apologize for what she had said.
I then slowly slipped off her white ankle socks, one after the other, leaving her vulnerable, soft bare soles facing up at me, trapped under the full weight of my body. Her feet were about a size 6, narrow, very soft, and were lightly pink on the bottoms. I took one of my fingers and began to slowly trace it up and down her right sole. This immediately sent her body into convulsions, and she bucked hard trying to shake me off. It was no use; I'm a pretty big guy, considerably stronger than her, so she wasn't going anywhere.
Then I decided to really go for it. I brought my hands down to her twitching feet, and started scribbling my fingers up and down her defenseless soles. She instantly let out a high pitched scream, and started frantically begging me to stop.
"PLEAAAASEEEEE STOPPPP, AHHH HAHHAHHAH HAHAHAHHAAHAA".
I didn't say anything back, and just kept methodically tickling her sensitive feet as she desperately thrashed to get free. I kept this up for about a minute, as she intensified her pleading and begging for me to stop. She was breathing hard by this point, and clearly tired, so I decided to give her a break. As soon as I did, she lay there trying to catch her breath, taking in the reality of her predicament, before trying to reason with me:
"Please, you don't know how much I hate being tickled. I can't stand it. Seriously, you don't understand".
I told her that I knew exactly how ticklish she was, and that I was going to teach her a lesson for being so rude to me before.
"Sarah, here's what's going to happen", I calmly told her. "I'm going to tickle you for another 3 minutes, without any breaks, and then I'll let you go."
"No, you can't", she pleaded.
But before she could get another word out, I resumed tickling her feet with both hands, ruthlessly scraping my nails on her soles. As my nails made contact with her feet, she let out a loud howl of protest, before quickly descending into breathless laughter.
"HAHAHAH, STOOPPPP, PLEEAASSEEE, I CAN'T, I CAN'T, AHHHHH HAHHHHAAAAAHAAHA."
I didn't stop, and instead kept up a steady tempo, mercilessly tickling her delicate arches with both hands. As I did this, she alternated between screeching and spluttering with helpless laughter.
"I'M SORRY, AHHAHA, I'M AHHAH FUCKING SORRY AHAHAHHA".
"I accept your gracious apology, Sarah", I said, "but you've still got 1 minute left".
And with that, I grabbed her big toes with my left hand, holding them together between my thumb and forefinger. Using the fingers on my right hand, I started tickling the exposed skin on the underside of both big toes. I have found that this tends to drive people absolutely crazy, and Sarah was no different. She now couldn't move her feet at all, and as I persistently tickled her trapped big toes, she became a complete mess of unbroken laughter.
"AHHHAHAH HAHAHAHAH HAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA".
After 1 minute, true to my word, I stopped tickling her. She was a complete mess - her face beat red and she was covered in sweat. Even her feet were sweating by that point! Her mascara was running down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, as she lay there quietly trying to catch her breath. Within 3 short minutes, she had gone from being her petulant, adversarial self, to being unrecognizably defeated and broken. I knew that she had enough, more than enough, so I got off of her ankles, undid the handcuffs, and lay there next to her on the bed. She didn't speak to me for about 10 minutes, and when she finally did it was only to call me a string of obscenities before storming out of my room.
Yup, Sarah was pissed, and I had to do a lot of mansplaining to dig myself out of it. Soon enough, though, she forgave me, and we continued dating for almost another year before breaking up (for unrelated reasons).
Sadly, I never did tickle Sarah again, although over the coming months she grew increasingly interested in tickling me, perhaps in an attempt to regain the control she lost that day.
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I know I know, it would be wrong, but oh so fun! 
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 
I know I'm not the only here by far who can do this Real World Math.
