TummyDragon
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This is an idea for a topic I got from another "old timer" in the tickling community recently while we were sitting in our rockers, whittling our canes, and chatting.
When we tickle (or get tickled I would suppose) there is a "moment" we each have that really gets us going. The moment when the adrenaline, and whatever else, starts to flow. The Rush! That moment can be different for each individual, but whatever it is that occurs during that specific point in time is the basis of what truly defines the experience for us as ticklers. Thus- the "Moment".
For me, one of those moments is the instant when the ticklee realizes she's about to be tickled. Her mind explodes in a thousand different directions, simultaneously seeking a way to stop it from happening, a route of escape, and imagining how much it's going to tickle and even imagining it happening. Being a sadistic teaser as well as tickler, I love to prolong that intense 'moment' by reaching my hands toward a ticklish spot, or saying "I'm going to tickle you" or anything else that comes to mind to make it worse, I mean, more intensely gratifying for the one in the ticklish predicament.
That moment of realization can lead to some of the most exquisite self torture and give the tickler a feeling of complete euphoria. To give an example, I'll relate another story from my shoe store days.
A female coworker and I were stocking shoes (putting new inventory on the storage shelves in the stock room). We were at opposite ends of one shelf, picking up about 5 boxes of shoes each, stacked, at a time and loading them onto the shelves. When she got to the top shelf, she picked up her stack, stepped on a step-stool and lifted the stack of shoe boxes up over her head to place them on the top. The boxes began to topple and she caught them by flattening herself against the shelving, trapping the boxes between her body and the shelving. As soon as I heard the rustling, I started over to help her. I immediately saw her predicament. She couldn't move without dropping the shoes and scuffing new shoes was a definate no-no. There she was, all stretched out, trapped by circumstance. I couldn't resist this opportunity. As I moved closer I held my hands up in front of me, fingers wriggling menacingly, and simply asked, "are you ticklish?"
Oh man, her head snapped downward with eyes the size of saucers as the realization of the implication of my words penetrated her preoccupied mind (read, MOMENT!). Instantly she began laughing like a nut but at the same time trying to maintain a serious expression on her face.. but she couldn't "DAVID... DON'T YOU DARE!!! HAHAHAH COME ON... HAAHAHAH NOOOO!! YES I'M TICKLISH! HAHAHA... GOD DAMMIT STOP!! HAHAHAHAH DAVID!!! STOP IT! HAHAHAH" I kept moving closer with my fingers still wriggling and just kept repeating, "tickle tickle tickle... are you ticklish?"
"AHAHAHAHA DAVID... GOD DAMMIT!! HAHAHAHA I'M VERY TICKLISHHHHHH STOP!!! HAHAHAH I will KILL YOU HAHAHAHAHAH QUIT IT!! DAAAAAAVID NOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH" and the wildest part is - I had not touched her. I had merely entered her thoughts. She was putting herself through such a torture of self imposed mental ticklishness that she was driving herself into a laughing frenzy... trapped precariously in a completely vulnerable and insanely ticklish position, but unable to do a thing to escape unless she dropped the expensive leathers shoes and jumped off the step-stool.
Her face was so twisted and contradicting, attempting to maintain her composure. Trying to be serious and intimidate me into not tickling her, but being forced by the thoughts in her own mind to smile and giggle as she imagined my hands making contact with an exposed ticklish spot, the whole time working herself further and further into almost a fit of laughter.
I yelled out "TICKLE!!!" and lunged my wriggling fingers toward her side. She screamed. "AAAAUUUUUUUGHAHAHAHAHAHAH STAHAHAHAHAHP! AAAAUUUUGHHHAHAHAHAHAHA DAAAAAAAAAAAAVID NOOHOHOHOHO" and with each passing second her pitch became higher and more frantic.
This is the point where the manager (who was also very ticklish, but that's another story) came storming back to where we were and oxymoronically whisper-yelled at us like a mother does to her misbehaving children in a library or church, "STOP it you two, we can hear you all over the floor!" (The "floor" is the area in a retail store where the customers actually shop. God I wish I could have seen the faces of those on the "floor" while they were voyeuristically enthralled by their senses, listening to the shrieks of this almost hysterical young lady laughing, cursing, and screaming that she is ticklish.)
So we (I) stopped and I helped her out of the predicament by removing the boxes she had pinned one by one. The whole time she just kept giggling like a mad woman. Giggling... giggling... even after she was free of the situation and had stepped down, she just kept giggling and saying things like, "I can't BELIEVE you did that to me! That was MEAN heheheeheh, oh god that was mean... hehehe"
The rest of the night (and many other times) when we'd make eye contact, even from across the floor, I'd hold up my wriggling fingers and she'd break into this huge uncontrallable grin and even giggle.
Of course, in this day and age of sexual harassment suits, even if as innocuous as the story I just related, one must be very cautious with workplace tickling. Back in those days, the environment was very relaxed and people played at work as if it were nothing. We never considered it taboo or considered the possibility of lawsuits, or even entertained the thought of being fired for touching a coworker in a friendly playful manner (unless, or course, it was some kind of blatant sexual contact and obviously improper).
Well, that is a classic example of *my* moment.
How about you? What is your "moment"?
[edited some missed typos]
When we tickle (or get tickled I would suppose) there is a "moment" we each have that really gets us going. The moment when the adrenaline, and whatever else, starts to flow. The Rush! That moment can be different for each individual, but whatever it is that occurs during that specific point in time is the basis of what truly defines the experience for us as ticklers. Thus- the "Moment".
For me, one of those moments is the instant when the ticklee realizes she's about to be tickled. Her mind explodes in a thousand different directions, simultaneously seeking a way to stop it from happening, a route of escape, and imagining how much it's going to tickle and even imagining it happening. Being a sadistic teaser as well as tickler, I love to prolong that intense 'moment' by reaching my hands toward a ticklish spot, or saying "I'm going to tickle you" or anything else that comes to mind to make it worse, I mean, more intensely gratifying for the one in the ticklish predicament.
That moment of realization can lead to some of the most exquisite self torture and give the tickler a feeling of complete euphoria. To give an example, I'll relate another story from my shoe store days.
A female coworker and I were stocking shoes (putting new inventory on the storage shelves in the stock room). We were at opposite ends of one shelf, picking up about 5 boxes of shoes each, stacked, at a time and loading them onto the shelves. When she got to the top shelf, she picked up her stack, stepped on a step-stool and lifted the stack of shoe boxes up over her head to place them on the top. The boxes began to topple and she caught them by flattening herself against the shelving, trapping the boxes between her body and the shelving. As soon as I heard the rustling, I started over to help her. I immediately saw her predicament. She couldn't move without dropping the shoes and scuffing new shoes was a definate no-no. There she was, all stretched out, trapped by circumstance. I couldn't resist this opportunity. As I moved closer I held my hands up in front of me, fingers wriggling menacingly, and simply asked, "are you ticklish?"
Oh man, her head snapped downward with eyes the size of saucers as the realization of the implication of my words penetrated her preoccupied mind (read, MOMENT!). Instantly she began laughing like a nut but at the same time trying to maintain a serious expression on her face.. but she couldn't "DAVID... DON'T YOU DARE!!! HAHAHAH COME ON... HAAHAHAH NOOOO!! YES I'M TICKLISH! HAHAHA... GOD DAMMIT STOP!! HAHAHAHAH DAVID!!! STOP IT! HAHAHAH" I kept moving closer with my fingers still wriggling and just kept repeating, "tickle tickle tickle... are you ticklish?"
"AHAHAHAHA DAVID... GOD DAMMIT!! HAHAHAHA I'M VERY TICKLISHHHHHH STOP!!! HAHAHAH I will KILL YOU HAHAHAHAHAH QUIT IT!! DAAAAAAVID NOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH" and the wildest part is - I had not touched her. I had merely entered her thoughts. She was putting herself through such a torture of self imposed mental ticklishness that she was driving herself into a laughing frenzy... trapped precariously in a completely vulnerable and insanely ticklish position, but unable to do a thing to escape unless she dropped the expensive leathers shoes and jumped off the step-stool.
Her face was so twisted and contradicting, attempting to maintain her composure. Trying to be serious and intimidate me into not tickling her, but being forced by the thoughts in her own mind to smile and giggle as she imagined my hands making contact with an exposed ticklish spot, the whole time working herself further and further into almost a fit of laughter.
I yelled out "TICKLE!!!" and lunged my wriggling fingers toward her side. She screamed. "AAAAUUUUUUUGHAHAHAHAHAHAH STAHAHAHAHAHP! AAAAUUUUGHHHAHAHAHAHAHA DAAAAAAAAAAAAVID NOOHOHOHOHO" and with each passing second her pitch became higher and more frantic.
This is the point where the manager (who was also very ticklish, but that's another story) came storming back to where we were and oxymoronically whisper-yelled at us like a mother does to her misbehaving children in a library or church, "STOP it you two, we can hear you all over the floor!" (The "floor" is the area in a retail store where the customers actually shop. God I wish I could have seen the faces of those on the "floor" while they were voyeuristically enthralled by their senses, listening to the shrieks of this almost hysterical young lady laughing, cursing, and screaming that she is ticklish.)
So we (I) stopped and I helped her out of the predicament by removing the boxes she had pinned one by one. The whole time she just kept giggling like a mad woman. Giggling... giggling... even after she was free of the situation and had stepped down, she just kept giggling and saying things like, "I can't BELIEVE you did that to me! That was MEAN heheheeheh, oh god that was mean... hehehe"
The rest of the night (and many other times) when we'd make eye contact, even from across the floor, I'd hold up my wriggling fingers and she'd break into this huge uncontrallable grin and even giggle.
Of course, in this day and age of sexual harassment suits, even if as innocuous as the story I just related, one must be very cautious with workplace tickling. Back in those days, the environment was very relaxed and people played at work as if it were nothing. We never considered it taboo or considered the possibility of lawsuits, or even entertained the thought of being fired for touching a coworker in a friendly playful manner (unless, or course, it was some kind of blatant sexual contact and obviously improper).
Well, that is a classic example of *my* moment.
How about you? What is your "moment"?
[edited some missed typos]
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