tickle roleplay idea- the only known cure
You have come down with a mysterious illness. It causes a series of strange symptoms, bouts of hysteria where you can't stop laughing, followed by bouts of extreme lethargy when all your energy has ran out. The cycle is painful, never-ending. The laughter has no cause. You could be facing awful circumstances and still laugh yourself to sleep.
There is only one known cure. Tickling. It forces the laughter out, redirects it, gives it a cause to come out. It changes from meaningless hysteria to ticklish giggles, and the sensation brings sufferers back down to earth. The only problem is, you have to be tickled to utter exhaustion, just like the hysteria, for the symptoms to lessen. It can take up to five sessions for the illness to be cured.
You are sent to a specialist hospital. The rooms are soft and comforting, almost like a hotel. This treatment doesn't rely on clinical medicine, but on patient comfort. The only non comforting thing are the restraints on the bed, usually hidden, but that emerge when it's time for the treatment to start.
You're exhausted. Scared. Stuck in a bout of lethargy when the doctor walks in. She's kind. Gentle. She brings you a warm drink and sits beside you on the sofa. She introduces herself, and explains the treatment.
"Are you ticklish?" She asks gently. You nod, blushing and looking down at the cup.
"That's okay darling, that's good actually. The more ticklish the better for this treatment. Can you tell me where your tickle spots are? I know it might feel embarrassing but it's only because I want to help you to feel better."
Shyly, you tell her, and are met with a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Good, darling. Thank you. If you need anything, you use that phone, okay? And when you feel the hysteria coming on, you press that green button. That's super important. You can wander around and interact with the other patients on the ward when you feel up to it. They're all lovely, just like you, and it might help to have someone who understands. There's lots of lovely things to do in your free time, if you've got the energy of course. Try to think of it as a little tickly holiday. A week with us and you'll be right back to normal.
I'll leave you to get sorted." She smiled gently and left the room.
In the coming hours, you heard the patients on your ward enduring the tickle treatment from your doctor. You could hear them screaming her name through helpless laughter. Your stomach churned. She seemed so nice, was she really being so mean to them? You dreaded the next bout of hysteria that was surely bubbling up inside you. You just had to wait. Wait for the impending tickles coming your way... there was nothing you could do.
That evening, you felt it. The helpless feeling of the muscles in your face beginning to twitch into a smile. The muscle spasms in your stomach that would soon be forcing out giggles. You debated for a while. Should you press the button or try to get through it alone? Surely if they found out you'd hidden it, you'd be in even more trouble. With a shaky hand, you pressed the button.
She was there no more than a minute later, wheeling in a trolley with a welcoming smile.
"Hello darling! Thank you so much for pressing that button and telling me. You did so well. Now, here's the tricky part. Pop those clothes off for me and lay down on the bed. Underwear only."
Feeling flustered, you began to peel off your clothes before laying on the bed, letting her tie you up. You felt shaky, panicky, and embarrassingly, you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You'd never been in a situation where you'd had no control at all before. You tried to avoid her gaze, but she noticed.
She sat beside you on the bed, stroking your hair and smoothing it back from your face. Gently, she wiped the tear from your eye, genuine sympathy in hers.
"Aww, sweetheart. I know its scary. The first one is always the worst, I promise, because you don't know what to expect. You are safe. I'm not going to hurt you."
You giggled in response. Not a real giggle, the hysteria taking over. She looked down at you and began tickling.
You instantly squealed, pulling at the bonds and fighting the giggles that threatened to come out. She was encouraging. Patient. Gentle. She praised your giggles and squirming and you kicked and thrashed beneath her.
She could see your mind still spinning. Self conscious about your reactions, about being so ticklish, about your body being so exposed while she was dressed so professionally. Expertly, she quashed them.
"It's okay, sweetheart. You're overthinking. Just turn that brain off and give in to the tickles. It's easier that way. Just let me tickle it all away. I've got you, all you have to do is lay there and laugh for me. You're doing so well, darling. So pretty and so ticklish."
She remembered each and every tickle spot you'd mentioned, tickling them so gently but so relentlessly. Her sweet praising made you melt into her touch, and the tickles started to feel rather comforting as opposed to torturous. You still thrashed around, squealing in ticklish agony and yelling out her name, begging and pleading as she coaxed every squeak, squeal, giggle and gasp from you. But it felt nice laughing for a reason, rather than having that laughter exploding from your lungs with no control. Eventually, her long nails started to feel nice too.
Then, she dragged the trolley over. An assortment of instruments carefully arranged on top. Toothbrushes, a hairbrush, oil, a grooming glove, feathers, electric massagers, vibrating rods, the works. Your eyes widened in fear, but also, you noticed, excitement.
"Okay, darling. Let's see which ones really make you scream." She teased, smiling fondly down at you. She made the testing of the instruments feel like a game. She was sweet and playful, finding out exactly which spots responded best to which tool. Your abs were starting to ache. Your chest burning. Your nerves completely overwhelmed by ticklish sensation. She praised your tickle spots.
"Such a tickly tummy you've got, haven't you!"
"These must be the most ticklish pretty feet I've ever seen!"
"Aww, we're gonna tickle tickle tickle these armpits. Poor baby, I know, it tickles so much doesn't it?"
The teasing made you laugh all the more.
Eventually, the laughter slowed. As did the tickling. You were exhausted. She gently undid your restraints, covering you over with the duvet. Next, she opened a separate drawer on the trolley, bringing out some drinks and snacks for you to choose from. Gratefully, you took them, half asleep. She sat down beside you and rubbed your back while you ate. You looked at her, confused.
"That was quite a scary thing you just went through. I need to make sure you're okay before I leave. If you need a cuddle, if you need me to stay, that's okay." She whispered, allowing you to lean into her. After a while, you lay down, wrapped up in the comfy bed you'd been suffering on not too long ago. She stayed by your side, stroking your hair until you fell asleep. And as you did, you couldn't help but think about how you weren't dreading the next treatment quite so much.
