#tickle hell

A middle-aged man answers the door and leads you into his living room. It's adorned with plush pastel rugs, shelves lined with plushies, and toys scattered across the floor. It looks like a dream nursery for one incredibly lucky kid.

"Wow your kid must love it here. Where are they?"

"Just in there sweetie, go on in."

With your back turned, his thick, strong arms wrap around you from behind and wrestle you to the ground.

You snarl & thrash trying to throw him off. "Get the hell off of me!"

"What a fussy little thing we are" :) "Such a big, grumpy voice for such a tiny girl." His voice drips with condescending baby-talk.

He scribbles his fingers on that sensitive spot under your chin. You ofc can't help but let out a choked giggle.

"There it is!" "There's my tickly little girl!"

His hands roam and explore your body. His finger find your vulnerable, soft belly and a stream of helpless, little girl giggles force their way out.

He pins your feet with one large hand and traces your arches with the other, making you shriek and curl into a ball.

His fingers on your ticklish little kitty rip a high-pitched, infantile squeal from your throat.

"Who's a giggly little baby? You are! Yes, you are!" "Daddy found your tickle spots didn't he?" "You're having so much fun!"

The pressure becomes too much and you have an accident, soaking your jeans.

"Uh- oh. Looks like someone was having too much fun. That's okay sweetie! Accidents happen. Daddy will get you all cleaned up."

Daddy picks you up and carries you to the changing table. Replacing your wet clothes with a thick, padded diaper, before lifting you up again.

Daddy sits in a rocking chair, cradling and rocking you. He tells you what a good, ticklish little girl you are. How Daddy will always be there to take care of you. To play tickle-games with you.

The fight starts to drain out of you. The tickling, the diaper, and the constant baby-talk makes your mind go fuzzy.

Your adult identify, the one that came here to babysit, is washed away.

Daddy finally sits you down amongst the plushies and blankets, & hands you a brightly coloured rattle. You don't protest, you just look up at him with big, trusting eyes.

You don't remember what you came here for anymore.

So you go on there, hoping you’ll find something better, and after a few dead links and rabbit holes, you find a video of a girl being tickled. You guess that she’s 19, maybe 20. Her wrists and ankles are tied down with rather straps that are then tightened until she’s totally taut. Leather straps around her knees and midsection and neck and forehead to keep her as helpless and immobile as possible. Naked as the day she was born. But whoop, right?

Except this girl is not having any fun. Her face is so fucked up and miserable looking, big boo hoos and eyes as round as dinner plates, with tears and snot pouring down her face, spitting up everywhere and screaming, “STOP! PLEASE JUST FUCKING STOP IM GOING TO FUCKIN DIE PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP ME OH GOD PLEASE SAVE ME SOMEONE ITS TOO MUCH I CANT TAKE IT PLEASE!”

You can’t see the tickler (or maybe ticklers) but you can see their hands reaching out to grab and gently squeeze her sides until she sobs. The hands look like claws as they hover over her whimpering body and then descend to dig into her ribs. They oil her underarms up and then alternate between softly raking their nails down those deep and creamy pits and roughly drilling their fingers in. There’s another angle of her feet. Oil is dripping off her red and raw feet. A pair of brushes scrub them, moving up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down endlessly. There are electric toothbrushes strapped between her spread toes.

You look at the bottom of the screen. There’s a timer. It read: 47:19:36. And then 47:19:37. 47:19:38. Hours, minutes, and seconds. This girl has been tickled against her will for over two days and they show no sign of stopping. She’s not enjoying it. There is no safe word, no stop time, no consent. You have found a person who has been abducted, restrained, and is now being tortured for no reason except for the pleasure of others who want to hurt her and ruin her.

You know how cruel this is. That soon, her mind or body will give out. That you need to report this. Instead, you go into the comments box–full of sick and depraved fucks who are masturbating and talking about how she doesn’t deserve mercy, she deserves tickled and to be fucked hard. You type in the name, address, and schedule of the nice woman who lives down the street who always smiles at you and wears sandals to show off her feet.

Artist link:

Here's a comm I got to satisfy my addicti- I mean interest in seeing the cutie known as Andrew Graves tortured out of his mind.

I love these soooo much. The skull and spider web ones are softer than I thought they would be! They're absolutely perfect 😍 as for the purples 🙈🙈🙈 I ran every one across my skin and holy hell 🙈🖤💜

Of course it doesn't need to be a whole suit. It could be just panties, or socks maybe, or a corset. It is especially fun to think about you not being able to take it off.

Multiple people can connect at once for a gang session. Also, a user can record a session and "replay" it again later. So I can replay my earlier touch at the same time as I add new touch. Then I add a third layer, and so on, like vocal layering, but it's gang touch layering.

Now imagine you are wearing that suit and self-bound spreadeagle, with locking cuffs that will only open after (say) 6 hours. You post your app link, and I connect. I build a 10-layer gang session, starting slow, building up layer by layer, until after many hours I've combined all 10 instances my myself into an overwhelming, overstimulating symphony. And then I save the entire thing so I can replay it again and again if I want.

‘this is a cnc activity, the subject is extremely hyper ticklish on her soles and absolutely despises being tickled. as you can see, she has no safe word or action available to her. you will see tools such as feathers, hairbrushes, flossers oil on the table to your left - use them wisely’

I would literally be completely helpless, stuck in complete anticipation because I can’t see or hear when people approach me, completely on display in a room full of sadists that get to play without a safeword. even if they’ve never been into tickling before it would be an irresistible opportunity to torture someone.