All Things Ticklish

okkkk since you asked so nicely

PREDATOR. LIES ABOUT HIS AGE.

I am disgusted, and I'm sure you all will be too. Don't know what happened with the screenshots, but it is a fun read. Yes, I know I should've blocked earlier, but I also wanted to see how bad he could get so I could warn everyone.

This man needs an education and psychiatric help. Kels has a fight with him, so you don't have to!

Hello! As i’m getting a few new mutuals on here i thought it was probably time to do an intro post ! I used to be very active on my other account but sadly i deleted it due to personal reasons ( @ticklygirl)

I’m 23, from the uk and just looking to make some new friends in the ✨tword✨ community:))

This will be a mainly sfw blog with the odd nsfw reblog so NO MINORS!!!🔞

Im in a very happy relationship so please be respectful of that . i’m happy to chat about most things as long as it’s respectful, but PLEASE talk to me like i’m a person rather than someone to fulfil your tickling needs and desires thnx 😌

a few things i’m interested in (other than the obvious)

• crochet

• drawing

• music

• cats (any animal really)

• hiking

• collecting a wide range of things!

• MIFFY

Feel free to drop me a message or an ask to get to know me more and hopefully i can make some more new friends <3

HATE SPEECH OF ANY KIND TOWARDS ANYONE WILL = BLOCKED

no conservatives also🙂‍↕️

included some more get to know me stuffs below! name not included , don’t give my name out 🙂‍↕️

I hope you enjoy!

It’s finally finished!!! *collapses* Goodness, this was exhausting, but….it was worth it and I love how it’s come out. I hope you all like it too!!

Or maybe I end up laid out across his lap, my stomach stretched and my shirt ever so slightly lifted, showing the tiniest bit of my stomach. He lightly grazes the sliver of skin that’s revealed and I don’t protest. My stomach twitches but I lay there and let him lightly tickle me, slowly being driven a little crazy by the constant sensation. He eventually lifts the shirt a little and plays around with my bellybutton, lazily. I’m squirming a tad but it isn’t enough for me to want to actually stop him, though I playfully reach my hands out to grab his.

There’s something really peaceful about letting someone have access to me and trusting that they won’t betray the quietness of the moment. That we can just lay there and be in a zen state with a smile plastered on my face and a giggle slipping out or an occasional flinch, but continuing to let a ler have whatever access they want.

The fact that secure bondage prevents you from protecting your most devastating weaknesses from attack and getting in the way of both our fun is only part of the reason why I love to use it.

It also stops you from hiding your face. I can’t overstate the psychological impact of this upon your ordeal. When your ineffectual struggling achieves nothing, the realisation that you’re inescapably mine to tickle, tickle, tickle for the next few hours fully dawns on you - and your next instinct is to shield your face behind your hands, arms, a pillow etc. Anything to cling to some shred of dignity by withholding your furious blush and tangled hair, your gaping, roaring mouth and panic-stricken eyes from my ravenous gaze.

Not happening. Not in this or any other reality. I’m here to bear witness to every quantum of sensation coursing through your body and drink it in. How I delight in your self-betrayal - the stiffening of your legs and widening of your eyes that tell me to stroke you this way instead of the other way. The attempt to bargain that dissolves into incoherent wailing as my fingertips unearth an area I’d only intended to skate over for an instant but will now spend the next several minutes tormenting.

Most of all, though, it’s the glory of staring straight into the heart of who you really are as you writhe in the throes of my onslaught. Professionalism, courtesy, tact, presentation, guile, performance, shrewdness … all of them impossible here and now. All of your masks, projections and veneers melt away one by one until I’m left with this, this tornado of feral shrieks and sizzling nerve endings, this singular, transcendent creature of wild abandon and flawless purity unlike anything else in existence. You, truly so, entirely transparent, inexorably genuine, for the first time in far too long. Those who enjoy bondage understand that it isn’t about restraint.