How To Tickle A Girl Insane

Almost as if reading her mind, Sandra tickled her right foot with the pointer, using her other hand on her belly and ribs.

"We're going to find those spots one way or another, Giselle, ma amie chatouilleuse. So you might as well just spill 'em for me."

Oh, sacrebleu, thought Giselle. For the first time this evening, she was beginning to get pretty scared. But Sandy knew she'd have to cease eventually, so she did, giving Giselle a short break, turning back again to address the audience.

"Of course, if your victim is reluctant to reveal her susceptible areas, the next move is self-evident," said Sandra.

A few audience members called out.

"That's correct, my friends; find 'em yourself!"

Giselle gulped.

"This will be lots of fun. Well, for you." The crowd laughed.

"I.e., the tickler. Depending on how much your girl gets excited—or even gets off—on being tickled, it can be lots of fun for her too. Now, what I like to do is test each area using the same instrument. Doesn't matter what the instrument is. Could be your finger, could be a feather, a pointer, anything. The variable in play is the victim's body. By using the same tool all over, you get an accurate reading of where your girl is most ticklish.

"Now, she has already been kind and brave enough to divulge the vulnerability of her feet for us..."

Sandy rapidly wiggled the end of the pointer again up and down Giselle's left foot. She broke out laughing once more.

"Oh, what a delightful, delightful sound," commented Sandra, her voice bearing hints of ominous malice. "Now let's do the other one, 'cause we can't leave one out, that's not fair, now is it?"

So she got her right foot next, which provoked the same result.

"I'd call that a tie—no pun intended—between both feet," determined Sandra. "And I give them about a 9 on a scale of 10. This is a scale I'm using. I'll tell you the ratings I'm going to give on these, and that way I can show you how my findings and evaluation can also help you determine more conclusive data."

Giselle felt the pointer glide up the side of her right leg next, approaching her calf. She began to tense up and giggle.

"Keep in mind, your data may be slightly compromised if your victim's in too much anticipation and her power of suggestion comes into play," Sandra noted. "She may then appear more ticklish than actually is. But it won't be compromised too much. Even if it seems her mind is playing tricks on her—mind over matter and all that—her body will nevertheless yield the truth."

The pointer rode up to her thigh. Giselle let out a small squeal.

"Aha. See, we've got another trigger on the inner thigh right here," said Sandra. She waggled the pointer and made her laugh once again, less hard. "Eh, okay, not quite as strong, but worthy of note. I'll give that a 6."

Her other leg and thigh gave up a similar reaction. Giselle was nervously anticipatory of what was to come next, but she was granted a bit of temporary relief as Sandra said, "All right, we're gonna skip the private property for now and come back to it later. First, let's go on with the rest of the upper body."

Sandy went on narrating things as she ran the same simple test across Giselle's torso from side to side, along her ribs and tummy, basically all of this area she deemed a 7. Sliding up to her underarms and chest, the number rose. Under the arms was an 8, and all over and around her very sensitive 34C breasts and their nipples a 9. When Sandra tickled her tits, Giselle flung her hair around to try and protect them with it. But Sandra had thought of this beforehand.

"Nice try," said Sandy, pointing the pointer. Turning back to the crowd, she instructed, "Also not a bad idea to keep some hair ties and scrunchies on hand, to keep the girl's hair in check." She plucked one from the tote and ponytailed Giselle's crimson locks.

"Now that that's taken care of..." She took up the pointer once more to go over the girl's neck—a 5—the jawline and under the chin—also a 5—and not least but last, her ears—a 4.

"Excellent," said Sandy, letting the pointer drop. She crossed to Giselle's other side, intentionally loudening her steps. Giselle turned her head in the direction of the footsteps. "Now that you've got this list of scores according to your girl's more vulnerable areas, you can put it to strategic use in terrorizing her. And I will now demonstrate the next technique I'm going to show you."

Standing to Giselle's right, in which direction the girl's head was still turned, Sandy reached around her back to her left and attacked her left side and armpit. Giselle shouted in raucous laughter, reflexively trying to turn her head and bite Sandra's hand.

"The Diversion Tactic, ladies and gentlemen," Sandra explained. "Making her think you're going one way when in fact you're planning otherwise. All part of distracting your victim's mind and messing with her head, in order to more effectively torment her."

More applause followed. "Devious and sadistic, folks. This is part of the whole mindset you want if you wish to drive a girl tickle-crazy: devious, sneaky, and sadistic. Sweet and benevolent won't get the job done. Even if you are by nature sweet and benevolent, playful and mischievous might work for you, considering you're doing something that, when all is said and done, is actually good for your victim's health, heart and overall circulation. Many folks fail to realize just how healthy a hearty dose of laughter actually is. Did you know that laughter can help oxygenate your blood, lower your blood pressure and even strengthen your immune system?"

The spell of audience murmuring that followed suggested that some did not. While in the midst of this contemplation, surprising everyone, Sandra whirled on Giselle and very abruptly ravaged her midsection. Giselle screamed and tried her best to struggle away.

"Devious and sadistic!" Sandy reiterated. "No warnings, no mercy! I'm telling you, folks, blindfold your girl, spring a few surprises on her...and you own her. It's like having her in a mental vise. Now you can play whatever games you will with her pretty little head.

"Like, here's one of my favorite games," she illustrated. She stood before Giselle and began randomly poking her up and down with her fingers. Giselle started reflexively squealing and jerking back and forth.

"Ooh! Oooh! Where'm I goin'?" Sandy asked impishly, continuing to aimlessly rapidly prod her. "Where're we goin'? Where're we goin'??" Giselle was having a little trouble keeping it together. She burst out guffawing hysterically.

"'Atta girl," said Sandy, patting her thigh. "Now, we've got some traditional tickle games from our childhoods: Guess The Toy, Buzzing Bee, Favorite Kiss, Magic Spot, et cetera. The most famous of all, easily: This Little Piggie. Perfect for us grown-ups who wish to stay in touch with our juvenile sides. Sufficient for kids, but appropriate for adults as well if taken past the predictable limits.

"Bottom line: there are exceptions to every rule, but the rule in this case is—a harder, more aggressive touch is normally gonna get you more of a result. Evident info, but you stimulate those nerve endings enough, your victim will go categorically in-freakin'-sane."

Giselle swallowed anxiously.

"There you are," gestured Sandra. "That's what you w—y'know-actually, y'know what, let me get you a close-up of this."

Sandy pranced back to the laptop and struck a couple of keys. A light lit up on the camera mounted on the floor sitting in front of Giselle. The big screen flipped from the slideshow presentation to Giselle's body. The crowd lit up themselves, applauding further.

"Terrific." Sandy returned to Giselle's side and hopped on the desk with her. "As I was saying, note the worried look on the model's face. See that? That's exactly what you want, right there. She's not acting; she's genuinely intimidated. Now begins the real fun."

Sandra turned to Giselle and purposely chuckled at her with a very evil-sounding undertone, intended solely to frighten her.

"Let's just put this in perspective," Sandy said to the audience. "Take a step back and collect stock of what's going on here, folks. You've got a naked girl, tied up and blindfolded, at your disposal."

Someone in the audience shouted something above the cheering.

"Sorry?" Sandy called. "Say again?"

"Just the way every girl should be!" the audience member jokingly yelled out, egged on by some additional laughing and cheering.

"Ah. Well, in this scenario, yes," agreed Sandy. "This setup in and of itself instills a great deal of power and control in the dominant party. Think about it; she can't move, she can't see—take the factor of tickling out, and you can do literally anything to her right now.

"And there's absolutely nothing...she can do about it."

As the audience became more and more revved up, Giselle became more daunted.

"This is an additionally effective device to put into play to drive your girl utterly insane," said Sandy, arm around Giselle, patting her outer shoulder. "Toss some cruel taunting her way. Throw a scare into her! Once you've got that idea planted in her head, she'll carry it with her throughout the experience, and in her mind it will psychologically intensify the impact on her. Like, try this one."

She turned to Giselle and lowered her voice.

"Are you scared, honey?" she asked her ominously.

"Oui, Madame," Giselle admittedly nodded.

"Good," purred Sandra maliciously. "You should be.

"Right then!" Sandy hopped down on the floor and retrieved her tote box. "Now we've taken a look at how the pointer works, as well as the fingers and nails, so let's try some other devices, belonging to the plumery family."

Giselle felt something tease her cheek. She tittered.

"This is a standard crow feather," said Sandy. "It's fluffy, yet has a moderate heft to it. Again, it may depend on your victim and her sensitivity to light touches versus heavy touches, but in the majority of cases, your stiffer feathers will get you more of a laugh."

Sandra waved the crow feather over Giselle's body, giving her a light taste of it.

"You can refer back to your point rating system to remind yourself of your girl's most ticklish areas, but keep in mind at the same time, while reliable, even the most conclusive data can fluctuate."

She took up and displayed another feather.

"Here's your basic peacock feather. Very, very soft. Observe."

Sandy used this one on the bottoms of her left toes first. Giselle reflexively wiggled and curled her piggies, giggling like a little girl.

"Before setting about to truly drive your girl out of her poor mind, I highly encourage you to try all different kinds of feathers. Soft ones, stiff ones, fluffy ones, any you can find. Even on the less fragile body areas. Just play about with her, y'know? Annoy her a little. Find out what gets which types of reactions. Again, you've got her tied up; where's she gonna go?

"Now here we go," Sandra resumed, twirling another feather, long and white. "This one's stiffer. This feather belongs to a mallard duck. 'S see what happens here." For this she opted for Giselle's bellybutton. She slipped it in and twirled it. Giselle abruptly tossed her head back and broke out laughing, extra hard.

"Ooh! Nice!" assessed Sandy. Keeping it up with this mallard feather, she picked up the crow feather and also tickled the sole of Giselle's foot simultaneously. Her laughter logically increased.

"Once more than one toy is brought into play, so then can be more than one area of the body," said Sandy. "And here's an important point: don't worry about only focusing on the most ticklish areas. Tickling someone in multiple spots is a bit like a chess game, in a way; the weaker chesspersons should combine with the more powerful for strong, effective play. And don't stay on any one spot for too long, otherwise the brain will start to grow accustomed to this spot being tickled, and the effect will decrease.

"Another reason to tickle all over, and mix various degrees of ticklishness together, is that with numerous triggers to be forced to focus on, the human brain will subsequently start to become overwhelmed, and thus dulled in its functioning. Now, certainly we don't want the girl to be lobotomized as a result of our escapades, but we do want her to be out of control and go crazy.

"Observe what happens when I tickle under the chin." She used the crow feather. The reaction was reduced to a small chortling.

"See? Not much. Now let's bring one of the more sensitive spots into play at the same time again."

Sandy took the mallard feather and twirled it between Giselle's toes, with which Giselle grabbed and pinched it.

"Ah—bad girl! Bad!" Sandra scolded, aggressively raking her nails up the girl's sole. Giselle screamed in laughter and dropped the feather. Sandy reclaimed it, whipping it then back and forth and down her arch. Giselle was going nuts. The crowd noted her rocking and struggling, laughing even harder than before. In between her laughs she nabbed a breath, gasped and blew in the direction of the feathers, trying to push them away with expulsions of air.

"Ah, she's trying to blow them away," Sandra clarified. "This brings you to a decision. She's starting to act irrationally, as you can see, thinking she can just whoosh the tickling away like this, so what's your next move? Do you keep going with the feathers? OR..."

Sandy gave Giselle a bit of a break, laying the feathers to rest on the desk.

"...Do you..."

She replaced them with her fingers, vigorously jiggling under her chin and digging into the bottom of her other foot. Raising her voice to be heard above the screaming laughter, she finished.

"...USE SOMETHING ELSE, SUCH AS YOUR DIGITS, INSTEAD??"

Giselle was indeed beginning as feel as if she was losing it. The Burtons had warned her what she was getting herself into when she signed on to be part of this presentation, but she still wasn't quite expecting this level of unruliness. Fortunately, she was soon granted another merciful rest. "Now, a little tangent to go off on here.

"As regards tickling with the feather, one of the questions I am asked most frequently is, can you make someone sneeze by tickling her nose with a feather, the way they do in cartoons? And the answer, I'm afraid, as funny a little trick as this would be, is a no. Great touch for that classic slumber party shaving cream prank, but for getting a sneeze effect...no. Let's try it and you'll see."

She showed them, removing the pheasant feather from the tote and lightly waving it in the girl's left nostril. She twitched and turned her face away with a wince, but did nothing else just now.

"Oh, mon dieu," Giselle uttered, scrunching her face up, trying to make the irritating tingly feeling in her nose go away.

"There, you see? If this were possible at all, your best bet would be a feather more of this consistency, like a pheasant feather, maybe a couple of them, and such an effect could only be achieved by twirling the tips of the feathers inside the nostrils. And even then, the sensation this causes is too light to disturb anything enough to trigger a sneeze. You would have to 'cheat' to pull this off, thereby sprinkling the feather with a dash of pepper, or dander, or pollen, or ragweed or something. Don't worry, though, Giselle, we're not going to do that to you.

"So let's go back to the slideshow for a moment," said Sandra, clicking the laptop to do so. "And go to the next portion of our lecture, which explains, why are we ticklish in the first place to begin with? Easy; two words—

"Nerve, endings."

The two words popped up in boldface on the screen, clearly visible even in the back of the auditorium.

"These are of course the same little guys that detect pain, and tell our brains when and how much to hurt. The human body contains millions and millions of nerve endings, and it's thoroughly impossible to put your finger on a number with any degree of accuracy, because, natch, everyone's body is slightly different in these regards, and also because due to day-to-day activity and other related factors, the number shifts from one day to the next. What we do know is that each bodily region can contain upwards of one thousand nerve endings each. In the more fragile spots, like one's extremities and genitals, the numbers go up. For example, since our topic tonight involves tickling a woman, let's have a look at the neurological side of the female anatomy."

Click. A list of the female body parts appeared on screen with a corresponding lineup of estimated nerve ending amounts, sorted by the latter. Sandra read it off for them. But not before the audience cheered reading it themselves.

"And just off the lead at number two, the bottoms of the feet, at seven thousand—to which I think our sweet friend Giselle here can definitely attest. And finally, at ol' numero uno on the girl-bod, at a rough eight thou, our friend, the clitoris."

More applause.

"Yay!" Sandy cheered along. "I'll let you in on a little secret vis-à-vis the clitoris you may not know. The clit serves absolutely NO purpose, other than exponentially boosting a chick's sexual pleasure. Almost anything that physically drives a girl downright cuh-RAZY...involves our little buddy Clitty here. Now, if you can get inside there and really nail her g-spot, she's yours. I will promise you that right now. But unfortunately, ol' G. Spotty is not always readily accessible."

She clicked the laptop. Next slide. A shot of a woman's vagina wide ajar appeared, to the audience's further approval, along with another definition. A line connected the word in the text to the clitoris in the photo.

"'Clitoris. Noun. The extra sensitive elongated erectile organ at the anterior region of the vulva, in female mammals.'

"First preference pronunciation, incidentally: KLIT-ə-rəs, accent on the first syllable. Second: klə-TOR-əs, second syllable. But just for a bit of edification. Big fat hairy deal, my friends—we all know what it is, and the second and third syllables usually don't even come into play, unless you're at the doctor's office or something. Bottom line—or, well, top line, rather—it's a clit. Easy."

Click. A side-view diagram illustration of a woman's midsection appeared, again with text and a line pointing to it.

"And here's your g-spot. 'Sensitive, erogenous zone on the anterior wall of the vagina.' In other words, if you don't know where the g-spot is, go inside her, palm up, curl your fingers upwards alongside the interior and reach along until you come to a soft, fleshy patch of skin inside. It's located just about halfway between the vaginal opening and the cervix. Great for swelling during sexual arousal, but for tickling, not quite so much. We'll go more into the g-spot in a future seminar." She returned to the camera on Giselle.

"For right now, what do you think, friends?" said Sandra, throwing her arm around Giselle and shaking her like her B.F.F. "Shall we put this chick's genitalia to the test??"

"YEAH!!" came the deafening roar, accompanied by further cheering and clapping.

"Well a'right, my ticklish friend!" Sandy grinned, kissing Giselle on the cheek. "Time to say your prayers!"

"Oh, Madame, se il vous plaît, have mercy on me..." Giselle moaned.

Sandra clicked the laptop once more and found the appropriate slide to respond to this. Apparently, she knew Giselle would make this exact request at some point in the seminar. She found the slide and read out loud.

"'Mercy. Noun. Relenting or forbearance to cause or allow harm to another. Forgiveness or compassion, especially toward those less fortunate than oneself. Pity.' All right, now, Giselle, my dear lass..." said Sandra, clapping a hand on the model's shoulder, "...After reading that definition...I still don't know what the word means." She grinned amidst more audience laughter.