the tickle monster is coming

boothill x argenti commission 👀 @vqler you're a genius, THANK YOU SO MUCH

When you're tickling someone, there is sometimes -- not always, but sometimes -- a magical moment when their hitching breaths finally culminate into a laugh. It's like when you're starting a fire using nothing but sticks, rubbing the wood between your palms until your arms ache... and then you see that very first spark. A promise of roaring fire, as long as you tend it carefully!

When you're tickling someone's ribs, every gasp and shuddering breath is right there beneath your fingertips. Before their laughter is even audible, you can see the smoke starting to curl, feel their breath jolt and huff as you probe for the best spot to focus your attention.

You see everything, you feel everything; the blush on their cheeks, the movement of their lungs, the smile in their eyes before it has even touched their lips. You both know that once that first spark of a giggle or even a squeak escapes, it's all over from there -- and when the spot is their ribs, you get to watch that beautiful moment as it happens:

There's a lot of these focused on ticklish boys, and yes I know that this can mean male people in general, but I'm getting too old to be drooling after 20-somethings. 😆

Fit men, mature men, bears, dadbods, gym-buffs, soft men, trans men, silver foxes or just-touch-of-grey, magnificently bearded or just a hint of stubble, beneficent gentlemen.

Men who's strength crumbles as soon as they're tickled.

Men with rounded, ticklish tummies.

Men who growl when they try to resist laughing.

Men who explode with roaring laughter, eventually reducing to high pitched giggles.

Men who want to feel helpless.

Men who want to be tied up.

Men who beg and bargain when they're tickled.

Men with ticklish thighs.

Men who cry "stop" but do not want you to stop.

Men undone by feathers in the right places.

Big tough men destroyed by a finger in their bellybutton.

Men who want to be forced to confess how much they love being tickled.

Lees who show you their tickle spots, when you're about to tickle them...? Lees who lift their shirt up, put their feet in your lap, or raise their arms for you...?

Had this running around in my head for years.

Tying a lee's hands above their head, then moving my nails down from their armpits, to their midriff, to their thighs...

When I use this term, I don't mean "primal" in the basic sense that most are probably used to or have heard of or are familiar with, that being primal play, chasing someone down and catching them like prey, especially in the tickling sense.

When I use this term, I mean that when it comes to tickling specifically, there is a hunger. A deep, insatiable, almost lustrous sense for reactions.

There are specific things, specific moments, actions or reactions, words, things that will turn the Ler mood dial to 100.

It can be a specific movement, the way a certain squeal or laugh sounds, the way certain words can come out of someone's mouth in a ticklish haze.

When those moments happen, there is an absolutely insatiable hunger that rises with it.

It can happen with someone who is of a softer nature, who's shy about tickling, but when they ask, a switch flicks on that makes you want to softly ravage them with playful tickles.

It can happen with someone who is just an absolute brat that loves to push your buttons, but for me and that primal sense, I will happily sass back, craving that building of that electric tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. So that when they push the big red button - that little way of them signifying that moment of understanding and consent between play partners that goes beyond the need to vocalise consent because you're that close with them - then from that moment of being able to get them back, whether pinning or tying them down, and causing all manner of wonderful reactions beneath tormenting fingers.

It is nothing short of an intoxicating feeling.

But I must stress, this intoxication doesn't necessarily mean in a sexual way. Intoxication as a Ler has its own drive: the drive to see their reactions, seeing their smile, that "oh fuck" moment in their face, that mixture of panic, fear, and excitement. Making them buck, wiggle, twist, pull, tug, to hear their sounds, making them squeal, cackle, squeak, snort, belly laugh, all of those things that just turn that Ler mood dial up to 100 and just duct tapes it there for a good, thorough, long, while.

Sure, primal can absolutely include primal play where you have fun chasing someone down and pinning/tackling/tying them down and tickling them. That alone is absolutely great fun for many.

But for me that primal Ler hunger happens from the moment they sass, that they brat, that they ask for it, genuinely or through teasing. It builds and builds.

And oh how it becomes insatiably exemplified...

When I get them.

if i can just find one spot where he’s ticklish, i know i can bring him down. and the second i do it’s curtains for him, because i know ill spend the entire time talking about how cute he looks beneath me, laughing like a fool. how sweet his laugh sounds, how adorable it is to see him squirm to get away.

and if he tries to give me any shit about how he’s “too ticklish” or how he “can’t take it anymore”, all i’m gonna do is call him a liar. because we both know he’s not too much of anything, and that he’s able to endure more than he thinks.

and if he’s enjoying it? if i feel a his dick or his nipples get hard? oh, i’m certainly not letting him live it down. i simply can’t help but praise him for how such a tough man gets off on something so sweet. kiss him all over and even tease his parts until he can’t help but cum while being tickled, so i’ll get to praise him more one i’ve stopped.