Harry Potter Tickle Novels & Stories

Alden hurried over to them and said, “Let go of Mel, Harold. She’ll get out of breath from laughing so much.” After letting go of Mel, Harold turned his body over and pushed Alden onto the play mat. “I’ll tickle you instead, then. Is it ticklish? Hahaha.” Alden was able to resist Harold’s attacks, but slowly after that, Harold reached his hands into Alden’s shirt and started tickling all over his belly. Alden finally could not take it anymore and burst out laughing. Once he started laughing, he could not stop. “Let’s see if you dare to pick on me again! Hahaha,” Harold said as he tickled harder and more vigorously. “Ah!!”

I squeal more as he roughly messes my hair again, to remind me that he will, because he’s evil and has no scruples. “Okaayy … Okaayy!” I wail, knowing this is futile. Arrick has many forms of torture when he is being playful, and he isn’t against pinning me on the floor with my arms under his legs, to tickle me to squealing hysteria again. “Number one?” Arrick repeats loudly. I have nothing else to do but answer him when he’s like this, knowing he will just keep tormenting me till I yield. I’m more afraid of the tickling than this, and I do not have the energy for that kind of hell.

His focus was so profound that he failed to notice my approach. A devious smile played across my lips as I stealthily crept up behind him. The room was filled with the soft glow of the setting sun, casting warm hues across our cozy sanctuary. I drew in a silent breath, my fingers tingling with anticipation. I pounced. With lightning speed, my hands found their mark, mercilessly tickling Kai's exposed sides. His initial shock was followed by unrestrained laughter that filled the air, dancing like music notes around the room. His book fell to the floor, forgotten amidst the chaos of our impromptu tickle war.

He scratched the back of his hair, while I looked at his body. “Nice to meet you, Harry.” I offered him my hand that he took without any hesitation and gave a firm handshake. “Now, if you won't mind. I'll like to dry my hair and change.” I nodded shyly and he went back into the closet. The kitten mewed again, drawing my attention back down. I knelt once more and resumed playing with the little ball of fur. Harry came back, this time in a pair of joggers that did nothing to hide his erection.

— H O O R — . . . Tears leave the corner of my eyes as he keeps tickling me, stacking my stomach because he has realized that this is my weakest point of mine. “Zahir, let go!” I scream, turning and trying to hide myself from him. He stops, taking a deep breath. His hands remain close to my stomach as if he is threatening me while he asks, “Now say you won’t lie to me.” “I won’t,” I mewl, closing my eyes.

“You did not look this good even when we were at the fest that day.” “I am sure.” I murmured, “your sick brain has gotten infected by your male god, right? And that is aside from your body that you enjoy getting physically tortured by that bastard like a pig.” Harry’s smile faltered but did not fade away completely. He just shrugged his shoulders indifferently and placed his heeled boot on my foot, digging in painfully until tears stung the corner of my eyes and a cry escaped my lips. “You are the one squeaking like a fucking pig all the time and you have the guts to insult me?” he gritted out with the same evil smile.