Creative story tellers needed

[Idofun]

hi everyone

I have a challenge for all that are willing to take it. Post in the reply box a tickling story where ever "you" are being tickled or "you" are tickling some one. Also if it helps and a picture of some one (cartoon or real) who is being the tickler or ticklee of you tale. It can be anywhere or at and time or with anything (tickling machine stuff like that). Please put XXX on the top if its a if it has any sexual content

have fun and be creative :lol

idofun

 

[Videotkl]

well I just wrote a tale with me in it. it is part one if this helps. next one will be a bit hotter lol since it will be part two hope you like it.

T.I.S. The Bounty Hunter: Audrey's Hunter M/F

 

[Idofun]

Yes thats good! 🙂

 

[Videotkl]

thanks now I just wish people commented on it lol

 

[Idofun]

Come on people join in!!!!!

 

[rockniff]

hi everyone

I have a challenge for all that are willing to take it. Post in the reply box a tickling story where ever "you" are being tickled or "you" are tickling some one. Also if it helps and a picture of some one (cartoon or real) who is being the tickler or ticklee of you tale. It can be anywhere or at and time or with anything (tickling machine stuff like that). Please put XXX on the top if its a if it has any sexual content

have fun and be creative :lol

idofun

im new but ill have ago

 

[Duke Diablo]

If you mean the first-person point-of-view stories, I have already written a few. Here is one of them - the one I consider the best of them:Duke of Salamanah (XXX)

Mind you, it's still nothing special.

 

[Sablesword]

If you mean the first-person point-of-view stories...

And here I was thinking he meant writer-stunt second-person-POV stories. ("You lay down on the bench, and feel the warm leather of the stocks enclose your ankles. You try to pull back your right leg, and then your left, but...")

I've done two whole novels[1] in first person, albeit bondage novels with essentially no tickling in the first and only minor bits in the second. My shorter works (including all my tickle-stories) have been resolutely third-person POV.

[1]Full-length novels, of ~100,000 words each. The kind that would be a paperback of ~300 pages if physically published. Unfortunately, I've only managed to get them e-published: http://www.fiction4all.com/site.php?adlib=Y&aut=579 (ignore the "spanking & bondage" characterization - that's a publisher category, and the novels are actually about bondage without any spanking at all.)

 

[Idofun]

YES THIS IS WHAT I MEANT 😀 😀 😀

You lay down on the bench, and feel the warm leather of the stocks enclose your ankles. You try to pull back your right leg, and then your left, but...

 

[kopfhorer1]

Hmm, sounds like we're drifting toward a little game of Exquisite Corpse. If so...

...just as I try, she walks in. Her hair is jet-black and goes down below her shoulders. She isn't dressed the way you'd expect someone in a dungeon to dress. She's dressed in casual street clothes, a red T-shirt which drapes gently over her shapely breasts (she's not wearing a bra) and a pair of well-worn blue jeans, the kind which follow her every curve. She's wearing black Converse high-top sneakers.

She looks at me and doesn't say anything, she just meets my surprised gaze with a scowl, which almost immediately changes to a wicked grin. She walks over to a table across the room from where I am. There's a large, brown cardboard box on it with UPS markings. "I just got this today" she says, "You're going to be the first one I try this stuff out on!". She takes a box cutter out of her pocket and slits the packing tape sealing the box shut. She opens the top flaps of the box. She takes out first one, then two large wads of brown kraft paper which were used for packing material. She reaches into the box again, and a smile flashes across her face. Very slowly and carefully, she lifts out...

 

[Sablesword]

No, no, no. No "Exquisite Corpse." Or if you absolutely must, then at least stick to the stunt-writer 2nd person POV that the original poster requested. E.g.

...just as you try, she walks in. Her hair is jet-black and goes down below her shoulders. She isn't dressed the way one would expect a dungeon mistress to dress. She's dressed in casual street clothes, a red T-shirt which drapes gently over her shapely breasts (she's not wearing a bra) and a pair of well-worn blue jeans, the kind which follow her every curve. She's wearing black Converse high-top sneakers.

She looks at you and doesn't say anything, she just meets your surprised gaze with a scowl, which almost immediately changes to a wicked grin. She walks over to a table across the room from where you are. There's a large, brown cardboard box on it with UPS markings. "I just got this today" she informs you. "You're going to be the first one I try this stuff out on!"

You watch as she pulls a box cutter from her pocket and slits the packing tape sealing the box shut. You see her flip open the flaps and take out one large wad of brown kraft paper, and then a second. Packing removed, she reaches into the box again, flashing a smile at you before carefully lifting out...

[I hate this. But I hate even worse to see it done badly.]

 

[Sablesword]

OK, see "A Story for You" in my contributor's subforum (Sablesword's Spot)
http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?p=567398#post567398

 

[ElFewja]

On a related note, I also did something like this about half a year ago. Only recently posted. Can be found hyah:

http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=57476

Hm. Initially I thought I was doing something fresh and creative, but then I remembered choose your own adventure stuff (I kind of want to do one, but eh). So yeah. Not so much. Regardless, I kind of wrote it for... well, I dunno. A more personal story for an impersonal person; that is to say, I had the idea of writing it for someone in particular, but not to say that there was someone. I had the idea of writing it for the sake of an ex if that makes sense, but since I'm not in contact with her and it's not for her... well whatever. There is sense there. Maybe.

I'll get around to adding something worth adding to this post tomorrow. Just out of it right now, and don't think I'm capable.

And very much what Sable posted; second person you, not exquisite corpse. Although I think the poster of that comment had the right idea, that the topic might have been leading that way... it's not what the OP was referencing.

 

[Inverse]

I had tried to get away as best I could. Really, I did! For a moment I thought I would escape the sentries that tried to prevent our escape, but I was too slow and too clumsy. I didn't want anyone to stop for me or they would just get caught too so I told them to run. Run as fast as they could and not stop! Already the sentry was upon me, and with strong arms it had grabbed my wrists and ankles and placed me on its wretched seat.

I knew what was coming, so I steeled myself as best I could but it was no real use. Hands shot out of the machine as it began to mercilessly tickle my ribs. My resolve was disappointing, the tickling was intense, it always was and I found myself spitting outward from my resistance into hard laughter.

There is something particularly demoralizing about breaking into laughter like this, though I could hardly be blamed. The sentries knew exactly how to tickle us, they were programmed to. The tickling at my ribs was only the beginning as it began to torment my underarms as well. I couldn't take it, I didn't want to. My armpits were too ticklish! I shrieked with laughter and cursed at it for its effectiveness.

My friends had probably escaped by now, I sure hope they did, because nobody deserves this kind of torture. Nobody should have to be tickled like this for days, and days. This sentry was wrecking havoc on me. The seat beneath my womanhood vibrated, and although its tickles didn't make me laugh, they sure brought me closer to a level of insanity I would soon be quite intimate with. I pleaded with this thing, begging it to stop! To stop tickling and tickling me. It just added more hands, this time my thighs, and it took all I could not to cry. Pleading with a robot, how absolutely pathetic of me.

Had I opened my eyes, I would have realized I was nearing the prison that we had dared escape. My punishment would be far more severe than this, and yet I already longed for some reprieve from even this tickle torture. Whatever was to come my way, I would have to accept with humility. I got myself put into tickle prison and this was my fate. They would add years to my sentence now. Even as I cried from this realization, it only found a way to make me scream with tears in my eyes. Mocking me for my sadness, it only added more fingers to my sensitive rib cage and I broke into hysterical laughter.

Oh, and I did laugh...the choice wasn't mine to make. I can be angry, or sad or even happy if I willed it. Laughing however was not my choice. It was theirs.

I would comply.