Tonight is the Night: Chapter 1; Collaboration Nation.
Below is a brand new (hopefully improved, or at least on par with) my previous version of this story (NSFW). I really wanted to do a collaboration with @irontickler a/k/a our past, present and future King, a/k/a Destroyer of (Lees) Worlds, a/k/a cutie patootie pie. I am doing Chapter 1, he is doing Chapter 2. So on and so forth until we give up, leave Tumblr, die or too much Trump happens or something.
Be aware that my style is usually NSFW and my blog is VERY NSFW, but I’ll try and scale back for the collab. Any references to actual blogs or people are purely coincidental.
For as long as Lisa could remember, she had always liked to be tickled. She couldn’t explain it and she had never explored it, but the curiosity was ever present.
Recently, Lisa began following a man on Tumblr. She was immediately hooked. His blog was devoted to tickling. He was a young, handsome man who described himself as 100% ler. Lisa was overwhelmed with need after reading his posts and listening to his audios. He described ticklish torment perfectly.
One day, she contacted him. “Hi. I’m a big fan of your blog,” she typed to him. She immediately felt pangs of embarrassment and regret. He probably received a thousand messages per day just like this one. He had no reason to pay her any mind. Just another stupid fan girl.
A few moments later, she received a response from him. “Why, thank you, my dear.” Lisa’s stomach fluttered with delight. She tried to play it cool. “No problem. Glad to let you know.” She was lost for words now. How could she capture his attention? She should have planned this out better.
“So, what brings you my way?” He asked. Lisa blushed and was thankful that he couldn’t see it. “I like the thought of being tickled. But, I’ve never really had a dedicated session or anything. I guess I just stumbled upon your blog and loved everything I read” she responded.
“So,” he began, “what you’re telling me is that you’re a ticklish little girl who hasn’t been fortunate enough to explore such a delightful experience.”
Lisa could feel his grin through the computer. “Ahem. Yes, I suppose you’re right” she responded.
“Well” he typed. “Let me describe to you what it would be like to revel in ticklish delight. You seem like an adorable creature. Imagine that we were face to face. Your back is against a wall. Imagine that I grip your wrists firmly but gently in each hand and slowly raise them above your head. You would be so helpless standing there, inches away from me with your arms above your head. I bet you would blush and squirm from the suspense. Then, before I dig in for my fill of ticklish laughter, do you know what I would do to you?”
Lisa gulped. “What?” she typed.
“I would whisper in your ear: ‘aww is this little girl ticklish? Are you going to get tickled? Tell me that you want to get tickled.’ I would rub my facial hair along your neck and face and blow on your ear, making you giggle.”
Lisa realized she was biting her lip now. She was at a loss for words.
“I said, tell me you want to get tickled,” he commanded.
Lisa typed, “Y-Yes, sir. Please tickle me.” She was starting to get goosebumps and shivers from reading his words. It was like he was really there.
“Good girl. I would switch to holding your arms up with my right hand and slowly drag the index finger of my left hand down the sensitive ticklish skin of your forearm and triceps and stop at your underarms. I would gently poke, prod, and stroke your sensitive pits while contemplating out loud ‘hmmm...I wonder how ticklish your arm pits are. They’re so soft and vulnerable. Maybe I should stay here forever.’ Then again I have so much more of your body to explore.”
“I would reluctantly leave your arm pits and let my fingers wiggle, poke, jab, tease and walk their way down your ribs and sides. You know I wouldn’t be able to resist counting your ribs and squeezing your sides.”
“And what do we have here? A ticklish tummy jiggling from all of the laughter? Here it comes, little girl. The tickle monster is hungry and he wants a bite out of you. I’d just have to move this devious piece of cloth that’s covering your belly... ”
Lisa gasped to herself. She could truly imagine the electricity of every touch. Every poke like lightning. Every stroke filled her with an insatiable desire for more and an instinctive desire to make it stop. “Eek! Wait!” She frantically typed. “I see your point. I-I like it a lot.”
“Aww. You made me stop before I could tease that tummy, your adorable belly button, your wonderful hips or your stocking clad legs, feet and toes? Too bad” he teased. “I’ll have to show you what I can really do.”
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