torturoustickle
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2010
- Messages
- 439
- Points
- 43
I have a good friend who goes by the name "Spanklett". No guesses for what her fetish is. I've seen her arse tanned red and her Dom sweating with the effort. She emits low groans when others would be crying out in pain. She has told me a good spanking is therapeutic for her. Taking away the stresses of the day and giving her a chance to 'reset'.
It can be hard for others to understand of course. What is quite extreme for some, is relaxing and healing for others??
That was a few years ago. I was just starting to explore the more torturous side of tickling. I absolutely love my fetish, can talk about it all day. However being hyper ticklish myself, I found it far from relaxing lol. There was no subspace, no where to hide. Just hysterical agony. Yes later, when you're reflecting, it's an enormous rush. But therapy 😳 ....... and then she wanted to talk.
"She", was a Lee friend of mine. Loved tickling, had her spots, beautiful laughter, and cheeky as hell.
We had been building up her sessions and testing her threshold. She had never really told me why she loved tickling, and back then I didn't ask. Just having someone to enjoy tickling with was a bonus.
However this time was different. Talking wasn't her thing, I really knew nothing about her. So I listened, didn't interrupt, just listened.
She was going through a hard time, harder than usual. She said she needed something, wanted more.
I freaked out a little. More? We just tickled. Didn't fool around. Just tickling.
Then she explained. Tickling, well for a time being anyway, fixed things. And right now she needed fixing.
My heart was beating fast, my instructions clear. TICKLE ......... hard and without remorse. I knew her spots, what was mild, and what was excruciating. Use my judgement, but ignore her pleas.
I began as usual, fast, shallow poking, followed by slower more deliberate digging. She couldn't resist laughing, but not like usual. She was clearly trying to fight it. I didn't panic, just did everything I normally do, just a little harder and faster.
I delved into those soft pits normally an 8/10, and she cracked. Her back arched up and she howled. I dug in harder. She lost breath for a minute, and looked into my eyes. Normally we'd share a tender moment, but not this time. I was full of concentration and looked it. She told me later that look devastated her. Not nasty, but blank and determined.
I waited till I thought she was ready to explode, then grabbed her ribs. Latching on, and wiggling my fingers fast. Before she had time to register the change, the tickles hit her worst spot. She almost bucked me clean off with her first violent movement. She cackled like a mad witch, and continued her crazy writhing. I squeezed my thighs tightly, held on and wiggled my fingers without letting up.
Her body looked like it was possesed. Desperate movement in self preservation mode to somehow reduce the tickling sensation. She laughed like a demon and her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.
I was too busy concentrating to look at the time, in my mind doing my job.
I remember stopping for a little bit to tease her. Something I loved to do, for maybe 30 seconds or so. I would usually then go for a much lesser ticklish spot, but not this time. When I latched back on she was still trying to catch her breath. I'm not sure if she even heard my words.
She did however feel when I started again.
It was almost a cry of anguish, followed by a raspy nooooooo.
No wasn't a word she used in play. Wasn't part of our dynamic or safety protocols. So I laughed. Not to be mean, but because I actually found it funny.
That laugh was the final straw that broke her. Agonising, unrelenting tickling on her death spot. No foreseeable end to it. And a Ler who thinks it is funny.
She came back down to earth in my arms. After-care was full of tears and hugs. I hold it as my most significant Ler experience. She thanked me for a long time afterwards, and I always felt a little guilty. Firstly because I thoroughly enjoyed it. Also because I really didn't feel as if I did that much.
But in her words it was "NEEDED", something I understand a lot more now. 🔥🪶
It can be hard for others to understand of course. What is quite extreme for some, is relaxing and healing for others??
That was a few years ago. I was just starting to explore the more torturous side of tickling. I absolutely love my fetish, can talk about it all day. However being hyper ticklish myself, I found it far from relaxing lol. There was no subspace, no where to hide. Just hysterical agony. Yes later, when you're reflecting, it's an enormous rush. But therapy 😳 ....... and then she wanted to talk.
"She", was a Lee friend of mine. Loved tickling, had her spots, beautiful laughter, and cheeky as hell.
We had been building up her sessions and testing her threshold. She had never really told me why she loved tickling, and back then I didn't ask. Just having someone to enjoy tickling with was a bonus.
However this time was different. Talking wasn't her thing, I really knew nothing about her. So I listened, didn't interrupt, just listened.
She was going through a hard time, harder than usual. She said she needed something, wanted more.
I freaked out a little. More? We just tickled. Didn't fool around. Just tickling.
Then she explained. Tickling, well for a time being anyway, fixed things. And right now she needed fixing.
My heart was beating fast, my instructions clear. TICKLE ......... hard and without remorse. I knew her spots, what was mild, and what was excruciating. Use my judgement, but ignore her pleas.
I began as usual, fast, shallow poking, followed by slower more deliberate digging. She couldn't resist laughing, but not like usual. She was clearly trying to fight it. I didn't panic, just did everything I normally do, just a little harder and faster.
I delved into those soft pits normally an 8/10, and she cracked. Her back arched up and she howled. I dug in harder. She lost breath for a minute, and looked into my eyes. Normally we'd share a tender moment, but not this time. I was full of concentration and looked it. She told me later that look devastated her. Not nasty, but blank and determined.
I waited till I thought she was ready to explode, then grabbed her ribs. Latching on, and wiggling my fingers fast. Before she had time to register the change, the tickles hit her worst spot. She almost bucked me clean off with her first violent movement. She cackled like a mad witch, and continued her crazy writhing. I squeezed my thighs tightly, held on and wiggled my fingers without letting up.
Her body looked like it was possesed. Desperate movement in self preservation mode to somehow reduce the tickling sensation. She laughed like a demon and her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.
I was too busy concentrating to look at the time, in my mind doing my job.
I remember stopping for a little bit to tease her. Something I loved to do, for maybe 30 seconds or so. I would usually then go for a much lesser ticklish spot, but not this time. When I latched back on she was still trying to catch her breath. I'm not sure if she even heard my words.
She did however feel when I started again.
It was almost a cry of anguish, followed by a raspy nooooooo.
No wasn't a word she used in play. Wasn't part of our dynamic or safety protocols. So I laughed. Not to be mean, but because I actually found it funny.
That laugh was the final straw that broke her. Agonising, unrelenting tickling on her death spot. No foreseeable end to it. And a Ler who thinks it is funny.
She came back down to earth in my arms. After-care was full of tears and hugs. I hold it as my most significant Ler experience. She thanked me for a long time afterwards, and I always felt a little guilty. Firstly because I thoroughly enjoyed it. Also because I really didn't feel as if I did that much.
But in her words it was "NEEDED", something I understand a lot more now. 🔥🪶
