Your most brutal tickling experience

Well... it is now August 2013 & you posted this question last year near the end of November. I think its high time you wrote about your most 'brutal' experience of being tickled.
As for me, I've had a couple or three...
Always been ticklish.... frequently been tickled... rather be the one doing the tickling. Given a choice, I would always choose being the tickler.
I get the appeal of tickling someone.
1. Total power trip.
2. No physical harm & relatively quick recovery
3. Total power trip/power rush.... for the tickler. Oops, I said that already!
It should go without saying, that the object of my tickle ardour be 'off the scale' ticklish. Since I am not a monster, the person I would be tickling would be totally 'down' with it.
Not sexual.
Power trip all the way.
Now for the weird part... lol... if any of the preceding wasn't weird already...
I am a happily married straight guy with a tickle fetish for tickling another guy, preferably straight as well. Not homophobic... will gladly tickle a gay dude and I know a few who are definitely ticklish enough to warrant my interest... again, just subtracting any perceived sexual component.

I was in my teens... almost seventeen when I confided to my then best friend my overwhelming need to tickle the living fuck out of him. His ribs, his sides, his Armpits, his BARE FEET...
He was a little weirded out.
As he was bigger and stronger than me, there was no way that I could hope to apply tickles for any appreciable length of time.
He launched a preemptive tickle attack.
Didn't go after my feet. (Damn!)
He did sit on my chest, squeezing the air out of me and inserted his fingers into my pits and tickled me totally silly. It went on for tens of minutes.
I was breathless.
I was in a state of profound panic.
He was ruthless, relentless and cruel.
He would slow up his tickles to allow me the 'opportunity' to back-off on my purient interest in tickling him... especially on the soles of his bare feet.
If anything, I was more pumped than ever to have his feet.
He kept on tickling.
About twenty minutes in... he became damn near obsessed with tickling my desire to tickle him, tickle his bare feet OUT of me.
He took mercy at almost an hour in and let my sweaty, slobbering, gibbering, quivering mess up.
Now the 'funny' thing was, that I 'caved' a half hour earlier... he could've stopped then, but for two things...
1. He didn't believe me; he thought I was saying whatever he wanted to hear.
He was right of course. I still wanted to tickle the living fuck out of him. I wanted him tied down, barefoot and laughing.
2. He was having too much fun. Turns out that tickling someone sensless was a giant power rush. He got it. He got me!