Quillforge Library

On Saturday the 11th of April we took a short jaunt to the BBB (Birmingham Bizarre Bazaar) to see some folks, pick up some new kinky equipment and to attend the afterparty. The theme was D&D, but alas I’d long since packed all my LARP stuff up and sold most of it, so there was no brutal Orcish barbarian, no foppish dandy, no outlandish nobleman with a purse filled with coins. 

What I lacked in outfit supremacy, we made up for it at the afterparty. 

It has been on my bucket list for a while now to bring the humble tickling fetish/kink to a more “general” kink event to the point it had been on my list of new years resolutions. I’d done a few other parties at Townhouse and incorporated tickle play before, but the audience was never more than a few people at a time. After a quick warm-up in the dungeon space on the X-Frame, we found ourselves chatting with friends in the bar and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Hazel seemed to be almost vibrating. 

Those of you who know my fiancée know that she cannot be stood around at a bar when there is kink to be done. One of the house dominants was just finishing up on a massage table in the “exhibitionist” staging area, a part of the venue near to the middle floor bar which was visible from a surprising amount of the room. I stepped forward and claimed the table, borrowing a few carabiners from a mutual friend, and I proceeded to cuff and attach Hazel to said table. Friends of ours also took to the stage, emboldened by my brave girl’s desire to become the evening’s entertainment for a bar full of kinky strangers.  

She beseeched me to blindfold her. She wants to be seen, but she could not tolerate the gaze of non-tickle kinksters, like Perseus if a Gorgons glare judged rather than turned to stone. However, judgement was not something we needed to concern ourselves with. Several times during the play I raised my chin to watch the crowd and was met with broad knowing smiles and encouraging nods from the strangers at the dividing rail. I made sweeping reference to *all* the people watching, and the only thing that halted Hazel from wishing the ground would swallow her up there and then was an inability to count the pairs of eyes clapped on her delectable bound form. 

The play itself was quite tame and restrained for my typical event torture routine, but coupled with the humiliating factor of a kinky audience to play to, and my refusal to stay in any one tickle spot for more than a minute or so at a time, Hazel was hysterical. Every reference I made to us not being alone brought panic and protestation. I almost took her breath away when I lowered my mouth to her waiting belly button and slipped my tongue inside whilst gliding my nails over her lower abdomen. She never expects me to crack that one out in public considering what it does to her body, libido and the connection it has to between her legs. I might as well be taking a vibrator to her nethers. 

I conjured tools of devilish design, including some new claws I’d purchased from Bondatrix that very afternoon, and broke Hazel down for our fascinated onlookers. She begged, she pleaded, she bargained, but she never said the magic words. Just the way I like it. 

Perhaps some in the crowd have now come to appreciate what a little tickling can do for a sensitive submissive, tied down helpless and incapable of defending themselves. I hope this spurs them on to try it themselves, whether in the comfort of their own homes or under the dimmed gloom of dungeon lighting. I hear tales and stories from other events, of people trying tickle play. I speak to people at tickle munches who don’t actually have tickling listed as one of their main kinks, but they’ve sought us out to investigate and explore for reasons that I hope will become more apparent with the passage of time. 

So I saw someone else on this website talking about vibrating makeup brushes and how they're especially good for tickling certain places.

Can confirm they work brilliantly. I have genuinely no idea what their real world application is, they're 100% a s*x toy.

Required:

A number of six sided white dice

A number of six sided black dice

Bondage setup of your choice

A willing victim

Rules:

Set random timer between two and five minutes

Blind pull one die from a bag

Black die - mean things happen

White die - nice things happen

Corresponding number equals the act performed

Stop on timer

Replace die after each round

Bonus (Advanced) rules:

Make up whatever number you pulled. It's not like the person tied up can do anything about it

"Forget" to put the white dice back in the bag after each pull

My girl has been quite cheeky this festive season, and I've been building up mental notes.

We have a box, temporarily belonging to the cat, which I told her was holding all of her festive sin. If she threw the box away before midnight on New Year's Eve then her sins would be absolved and our play day would be a kind one filled with mercy and light tortures.

She completely forgot about the box. I taunted her about the forgotten chore all evening when she couldn't recall how to get her mercy. Mercy is as rare as rocking horse poo in this house, you see.

So we went to bed after kissing happy new year, and I made another bargain with her. Double or nothing. If she threw the box out before I got up in the morning then mercy would be forthcoming. I was devastated when I woke at 6am and she correctly reminded me about the box. The game was up.

But it wasn't.

She'd settled into morning scrolling on the couch and forgot the box. It was still there, brimming with all her lovely sins.

So we moved onto more important matters: would she have permission to orgasm?

I told her that during the course of getting ready, if I received a picture of her feet then she would have permission to cum.

I received the following images:

1) captioned my (furniture) feet

2) captioned 2 feet

3) captioned a feat of balancing

4) captioned DeFEAT

It was pointed out to me that the instructions were unclear.

At which point I reminded said cheeky girl that the consequences were hers to bear alone.

So then I got this image captioned "my feets?"

Though I commented that I wanted a picture of her feet, not a picture of what I was going to do to her feet imminently.

I then posted this threatening image:

At which point, suitably fearful, I was sent the goods:

In order to contextualise 2025, I need to go back to 2024 and to when I met my partner in the flesh for the first time. We were both going to the same kink event in October 2024, so we struck up a conversation with a view to playing at said event. I'd intended to reach out to her a ton of times, considering she was only an hour away from me and an absolute stunner. A number of long phone calls later and we thought: fuck it - we need to meet sooner, so we did.

A deep friendship blossomed, and soon after so did we. February 1st 2025 we got together, and we've been all but inseparable since.

Valentines weekend she was booked to attend a tickle event, so I came to her hotel room on Valentines evening and we did an impromptu cheese board in Walsall. We still joke about how Walsall is obviously the most romantic place in the country.

We've done so much this year alone in terms of kink events and firsts:

We attended our first shibari rope workshops together in February.

In March we went to the Northern UK Tickle Munch and had a fab time.

We did a bunch of events at Townhouse including a number of Wirral play munches, and the Kink Market and Afterparty. That one was kind of a big deal for us, because it was a kink and swing event and we did some tickle play at a "general BDSM" event.

Then we hit the Bristol munch a bit later that month and stopped over with a friend from the community.

We went to Hysteria in April. At this one I did a few scenes with my girl, including building a 10 person gang tickle on her, which we still talk about as the stuff of fantasies.

Later on in April she went to the She Ties event in Gloucester, and we took the opportunity to spend a night and have a little couples weekend away with lots of tickles.

At the end of May we hosted a number of people from the UK tickle scene at my home for a BBQ, so we could be closer to the Squeal event happening the following day. Obviously we also attended that.

I bought a number of new tools that have made it into the rotation of standard tickle kink gear.

Ticklethusiasm in London in June. We had a good time, albeit a sweaty roasty toasty one.

July brought my first music festival. Yes at my big age of 40. I now appreciate live music. Go figure. Yes, I did put glitter all over my face.

Went to the zoo for my birthday in August. Absolutely love the zoo. Must do a zoo munch.

Attended the first Manchester tickle munch in August.

TickleMania in September - had a fab event and my fair lady experienced her very first rope suspension with a very capable rigger. We did some tickles while she was trussed up. Be rude not to.

Another Hysteria. We dressed as Dick Dastardly and Penelope Pitstop. We looked boss.

We went to Stafford to see The Man Who Was Magic. I got picked on by the magician to do some responses.

End of November was Ticklethusiasm - after some drama on the scene I was feeling a bit shit and this event really perked me back up. I got to scene with Reed Amber, and I believe the clip of me destroying her went up on her Onlyfans earlier this month.

Oh yeah I made an Onlyfans so I can collab with tickle porn people. Go me.

We saw Electric 6 and Matilda in Liverpool.

Cosmo munch with the TM lot in December. Lovely company and all you can eat food.

I got a lot better at rope. To the point where I can tie a lot of things from memory now, I know what to do with rope, frictions, tensions and hitches.

We did our first rope suspension together in December at the Midland Peer Rope event.

Our board game collection has swollen to about 15 games.

Somehow this year I've managed to lose over 15% of my body weight (intentionally), which has made me feel a lot better in and of myself.

And we've played formally and casually I don't know how many times. Daytime tickle fights, morning and evening bedtime tickle cuddles, sexy times with big smiles on our faces.

2025 has been easily the best year of my life, certainly the kinkiest, though there has been a fair amount of stresses to go along with it. 2026 looks set to top 2025, and I'm exited to see how and why. I've got a lot of things planned, but in no particular order:

Attend more general kink events and do tickle play at said events.

Lose a bit more weight and tone up.

Get through as much Gloomhaven as possible. Maybe get a regular gaming group together.

Move into our new house and make it a home.

Put a ring on that girl of mine.

Take a holiday abroad together.

Book a staycation with some tickle friends.

Do more full suspension shibari.

So the other day my girl and I were fooling around, having a little bit of fun. I was getting myself off with one hand and gently tickling the soles of her feet with a feather. She had bared them and extended them close to my face, supporting me in getting to where I was going, so to speak.

It was not long before I erupted. What can I say - something about a gorgeous giggling girl, wiggling her toes and telling me she can't stand the feather tickles takes me to a special place. I managed to cover myself from hip to shoulder pretty much, it was something of a sexual massacre.

What I didn't expect though was what happened next.

Suddenly fingernails scribble scrabbling over the soles of my bare feet. I was, of course, completely naked as we danced this merry dance, and my feet were no exception. I didn't want to roll over and coat the sheets in my substance, so I was essentially trapped and forced to take it. I laughed and squirmed back and forth, my sensitivity off the charts all of a sudden.

But then something more diabolical happened.

She took the feather, the same one I'd just been teasing between her toes with, the same one that had run all over the undersides of her feet. She took it and she gently took hold of my penis. My breath caught in my throat, I'm sure my eyes were panic stricken.

A few days prior to this, she had warned me, the last time we'd done this activity in fact. She warned me that she would absolutely be coming for me in exactly this way. I'd laughed and shrugged. I'd just assumed it was an empty threat. Maybe she'd forget about it.

As the tip of the feather touched down just under my glans, I exploded into laughter. I didn't realise I was ticklish there. I didn't realise it would feel like that. It was like the feeling of gently stroking myself in overstim, only the sensation was devilishly ticklish, enhanced by my own orgasm. And she knew, she absolutely knew, what continued ticklish stimulation following an orgasm did to a body.

Heaven knows I've done it to her enough.

The feather explored all over my penis, my balls, the places all around and between, and I couldn't do anything about it because I was held in my sticky bondage. Politeness bondage she had called it. I was basically forced to lie there and accept my fate until she'd had enough, and it took her a few minutes to be satisfied.

It was probably the hottest thing another human being has ever done to me. My experience is largely in doing the deeds to someone else, to get a taste of my own medicine in this way was intoxicating. It's also spurred me on to think about what I'm going to do to get her back for this transgression.

The two Ler problem

You will need:

One Lee

Two Lers

Restraints

A chess clock

Tie down your Lee and agree a set time on the clocks. I recommend 30 minutes each.

Agree on a phrase for the Lee to say to indicate they give up. I recommend making the Lee say something lovely about themselves, or perhaps the Lers.

Select a Ler to start and click the clock onto their time.

As it counts down, they tickle the Lee.

You can swap to the other Ler if:

The Lee requests it

The other Ler requests it

You swap tools

You swap tickle spots

You want to

The person with the least time on their clock when the Lee says the phrase is tickled next. 😈

Someone who has you tied up and is tickling your helpless body wherever they like.

You're bucking and squirming and saying anything to get it to stop.

Tricking them into untying you so you can get them off.

Wrestling them into the restraints.

How ticklish are your feet?

I think that's missing the point sometimes though, for me especially. I want to know how ticklish someone is in the context of how much tickling before they start begging for it to stop.

So it's not about how ticklish are your feet.

It's about how much can you stand.

Some people feel tickling intensely, yet they'd never give in under any circumstances. The tough cookies.

Some people beg helplessly with just the caress of a single feather across their soles. The tender foots.

Most people fall in between, able to take a little or a lot, or just the pet grooming glove on oiled soles before they break.

The question is never how ticklish.

They felt the same way I did. We shared similar worldviews on tickling, the shows we liked to watch, the books we liked to read and on politics too. I couldn't believe it, but what floored me was how they lived only a few counties over. It really wouldn't take me long to visit if we wanted.

Over the course of the next year we grew close. The hard times were made slightly easier and the good times peaked even higher than before, now we had someone to share all of our lives with.

You see, we both had a fascination with the idea of indentured servitude as a lifestyle choice, but we were too scared to fully give up control. It's not easy to depend on someone else for your wellbeing. It can breed resentment and malcontent, but in the case of servitude it was all already agreed. 

Finally, after that fateful year, we had agreed to meet up in meat space as they say. That first meeting was the most amazing few days of my life. We sat up until the early hours drinking wine and chatting bubbles, touching each other so tenderly and naturally as though we had done it for years. Hearing and seeing one another as if for the first time. I knew I'd moved from infatuation to something deeper. 

I had to leave on Sunday night in order to go back to my one bedroom apartment, where I would sit at my laptop all week working and wishing I was with them. The physical distance seemed to have doubled as the emotional distance could barely have been closer. Weeks drove on, but eventually I had to see them again. We talked daily and counted down the days until we could be breathing the same air.

The next time I stayed over things were much the same as the first time. The sun crept up on our dawn time discussions of the world, everything in it, everything outside of it and of course a lot of talk of tickling and submission. 

They asked me if they could tie me up. Heart in mouth, I whispered yes.

Before I knew it, I was tethered spread eagle to their bed. I was bound in such a way to prevent me bending my knees or elbows more than a couple of inches, but the bondage didn't cut off the circulation one bit. I knew I could trust them. They were taking care of me, just like I had wanted them to.

They tortured me. Sweet blissful torture. Every inch of my body felt the fluttering of delicate finger strokes. The skitter-scratches of a set of well manicured nails. Pinching. Biting. Licking. I was in heaven. I screamed as you found the spots under my curling toes with your nails, and I moaned as you sucked on my toes. The thing that really took me to the summit of space mountain though, was when you stroked a single stiff feather between my legs, right in the spot between my butt and my privates. 

I reached for my safeword. I picked it up and I turned it over in my hands, examining it for necessity. Do I really need to stop this?

You told me that you owned me. I screeched in agreement. Every ticklish inch of me belonged to you. I want it so badly. 

My arousal is through the roof at this point. Your masterful blend of touch and tongue have brought me to the precipice of eruption. And that's when we make our deal. 

I will live and work from your home, and you can do whatever you like with me. You control the money. You control our lives. You can touch me whenever you want to and I have to touch you whenever you want me to. You warn me of how much you'll ask of me, even as you're drawing yet another orgasm kicking and screaming from between rapidly drying lips.

My safeword has been wrapped in tissue paper, bound up in bubble wrap and placed carefully in a drawer within my psyche. It's there if I need it, but I don't think I will. This is exactly what I want.

And then you wrap me up in your arms and tell me how good I am. That you love me. Your lips quench my thirst as I'm a sighing, swooning mess beneath you.

This time when the day breaks, I'm excited to begin my new life. I work hard to bring in the money so you can decide what to do with it. I trust your judgement to manage our needs. You put your bare feet in my lap and tell me to rub them, or kiss them, or tickle them until you're begging on the floor. You take me to our bedroom and you shackle me to the bed, or instruct me to do the same to you. We kiss every inch of one another. We invite friends to play. At Christmas we visit each other's parents. We take long weekends to remote picturesque getaways when we've had enough of the city.

Once upon a time I was a lonely little lighthouse flashing a signal into the darkness of the Internet that I thought nobody could see nor cared to. 

Now I do what I'm told, and I couldn't be happier. Nothing in this world feels like having a hairbrush raked across your helpless oiled bare soles while you're powerless to stop it. 

You could be safe in the embrace of restricted reality. No obligation no deadlines. Just you captured, under my power.

You would get all the tickles you'd ever want and more. More than you could stand.

I'd touch you in all the ways you like, until you didn't like them anymore, and then further if you keep your mouth shut.

Not hard to keep your mouth shut when there's a gag in there, huh?

Fingernails on your underarms.

Pinching at your ribs.

A q tip in your belly button.

Poking at your sides and hips.

A hairbrush at your feet.

How long would you last before screaming bloody murder?

A quick, fun game you can play with your friends.

A government official has captured a spy from an enemy nation. We know that they have ten operatives in the field, and we need to locate each and every one of them in thirty minutes or else serious consequences will befall the peoples of our nation.

To that end, we have discovered that the enemy spy is extremely ticklish and so this is the method of information extraction that we have chosen.

We begin tickling the spy, locating all of their most ticklish areas, using all of their weaknesses to tools such as feathers, hairbrushes, oils and the dreaded pet grooming glove. 

At any point the spy can request a break, but in exchange they must give up their operatives. Each operative sacrificed will earn the spy one minute of respite from the tickling. 

The official will win the game if the spy gives up all of their operatives within the time limit. 

The spy wins if they last the whole time limit with even a single operative still in the field. 

Adjust the difficulty of the game by amending the time limit, number of operatives or even the amount of respite earned from giving up one of the operatives. 

Can you tickle torture your way to national security? 

Can you hold out long enough to prevent your friends suffering the same fate?

I have to strike that balance between being mean and making you scream, because I want to outlast you but I don't want you to go all out on me right away. I don't know if I could stand it for as long as you. You're always being tickled, so surely that makes it easier for you to withstand? 

So when I'm using my nails in your underarms, or squeezing at your hips making you laugh and buck, I hope you're not taking notes that they are bad tickle spots for me. I worry that I'm giving away the keys to the kingdom by tickling you, teaching you every single one of my death spots.

Your struggling, laughing, begging turns me on. I wonder if mine does the same to you. I'll probably find out in just a few moments when I break you and you're forced to cry out our word. And then it will be my turn under your power. 

The thought makes me falter a little, my fingers slowing down as I begin to contemplate your power over me. It gives you some time to recover. I lose the advantage. The clock is ticking. 

If I can't outlast you, then I'm in even bigger trouble. If I torture you hard, you'll get your revenge on me just as hard. You'll make me say all sorts of embarrassing things and your phone is recording…

I'm scared, but I'm excited. 

On the whiteboard is a colour code for numbers in five blocks of two. 1-2, 3-4 and so on up to 9-10. 

“You will be tickled until you confess how ticklish you are on this scale on each spot.” 

While they’re going about their nefarious deeds, they’re also writing notes beside the diagram about any interesting “facts” they discover. Such as “Hairbrush works well on subject’s feet”, or “soft tickles work better on hips”.

By the end of the adventure you’ve fully calibrated your own tickle diagram, complete with fun facts about exactly how to tickle you best. 

Then your ‘ler takes a photograph of the board for future reference. 

A short story about a tickle relationship.