gonefishing
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Hey everybody, long-time, first-time, etc. This is a story set in the MCU with Zendaya as MJ and Tom Holland as Spiderman while they’re dating, and thanks to time travel/quantum physics shenanigans, everyone is 18+ kthx.
* * *
“You would be so screwed if I ever took up a career as a supervillainess,” MJ said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, yeah?” Peter said lazily. The two were lying on the couch in his apartment, Aunt May having gone to Jersey for the weekend to visit some high school friends. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
MJ raised her head from the crook of Peter’s arm and frowned at her boyfriend. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“No, no, I’m–I’m terrified of you—”
“Good, you should be.”
“I just think that…with respect…I’m the one with super-strength and the high-tech suit and you’re…brilliant and gorgeous and amazing, obviously…but you don’t have any of that stuff?” He finished on a hopeful question.
MJ rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve heard all your war stories, I know how easy it is to get you into a trap. Literally the other day Black Cat hit you with knockout gas from five feet away, and I,” she playfully flicked his nose, “am smarter than both you and her.”
“Okay, but,” Peter said defensively, “even after she knocked me out and tried to interrogate me for where I swapped the ACME diamond, I still stalled her long enough for the suit to reboot and get rid of her. The diamond’s still where I hid it until the owners get back from London."
MJ rested her face on her hand. Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful she was. “So what you’re saying is, you’re too tough for me,” she continued.
Peter hesitated, but eventually told the truth. “In this extremely limited circumstance…yes, I am.”
MJ smiled dangerously. “That’s where you’re wrong.“ She leaned in close for a kiss. “You’d be putty in my hands, Peter.”
Peter kissed her back. “MJ, I love you, but being a hero is the most important thing in the world. I have to live up to responsibility. You couldn’t break me.”
She climbed on top of him, their faces so close that her hair fell around Peter’s face. “Let’s make a bet. Your aunt’s gone for the weekend. If I can break you in 15 minutes, you do whatever I want for the next few days.”
“Okay, but…what if I win?”
MJ leaned even closer. “Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Peter could hardly breathe. “Uh–okay,” he stammered. “Yeah.”
* * *
“I still can’t believe you had handcuffs in your purse.” Peter was spread-eagled to his bed, both arms cuffed to a post and his ankles secured with pantyhose.
“Hush,” MJ said. “I hit you with knockout gas, remember?”
Something dawned on Peter. “You never said why I should be in the suit, you just told me to.” He had his full Spiderman outfit on, mask and everything. They’d agreed to act as if the suit had been overloaded or disabled; in such instances, it went into a backup mode that appeared for all the world like it was fully off, when actually it took 15 minutes to reboot—the exact trick that saved Peter from what had been a closer call with Black Cat than he wanted to admit.
“Verisimilitude,” MJ said. She was down at the foot of the bed, rummaging through her purse and other things Peter couldn’t see.
“What?”
“Ugh, you are such an uncultured math geek. I’m the evil villainess, you’re the trussed-up hero at my clutches.”
Seriously, what was she doing down here? Was that the sound of a nail file? “Uhh, MJ? Not that I’m helping you, but the clock is literally ticking…”
MJ suddenly rose up, and Peter gasped out loud. His girlfriend was wearing a full fishnet outfit, on both top and bottom. Her perfect legs and small but amazing breasts were on full display. “MJ, oh my god…” he murmured.
“I don’t know who this MJ is,” MJ interrupted. Her voice had lost its usual sarcastic quality. Now it was higher-pitched and sultry as she advanced on the bed. “But whoever she is, she won’t save you…Spiderman.”
Somehow Peter was able to glue his brain back together. “Uh, okay,” he panted. “Who are you, then?”
“Me?” MJ sat down on the bed edge, and Peter ogled her legs only inches from his face. “I’m the most dangerous villain New York City’s ever seen. Call me Mistress.”
Peter couldn’t deny the effect MJ’s outfit and tone of command were having on him. Already he could feel his crotch bulging, and had to wet his lips before he could talk. “What do you want?”
“Well,” MJ laid a hand under Peter’s chin and he gasped, flinching at how sharp her fingernails were. “I hear you know where the ACME diamond is. My friend Black Cat told me you resisted her. But she doesn’t know you like I do…”
MJ leaned forward. Peter’s eyes were locked on her chest. Oh god, he would give anything to touch her right now. “She doesn’t know your weakness.”
It took Peter a second to register what she had said. “My weakness?”
“That’s right,” MJ cooed softly, wrapping her legs around Peter’s waist and moving up to his head. She put her lips to his ear. “Last chance, Spiderman. Tell me where the diamond is.”
There was a huge part of Peter tempted to admit the truth right there, so enthralled was he with MJ’s body and heat, her fishnet nylons sliding along him. But he remembered: this was all about showing MJ he was tough. He did what he would in any interrogation; he avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Big mistake,” MJ whispered huskily. “Mistress has a secret weapon.” She twitched her nails under Peter’s chin.
Peter yelped. “Bahahahaha!”
MJ took her hand away and tilted her head with a sarcastic grin. She raised her hands in front of Peter’s face and wiggled her fingers. “What’s wrong, Spiderman? Are you…ticklish?”
Peter swallowed past his nervousness. MJ had tickled him before, but they had always been playful pokes and fights. Surely she wasn’t actually going to…
MJ lifted one finger and, wriggling it the whole time, slowly lowered it toward Peter’s left armpit.
Inside the suit, Peter’s eyes grew wide. He tugged at the cuffs as hard as he could, but with the suit’s dead weight restraining him, he couldn’t break them. Panic surged through him as he realized he was entirely at her mercy. “MJ,” he pleaded, “MJ, please don’t—”
“I already told you, Spiderman,” MJ cut him off brusquely. “My name is Mistress.” She slid her finger into his armpit and scratched.
“Hahahahahaha!” Peter erupted in laughter at her touch. “Hahahaha MJ, stop! Stop hahahaha!”
“Mistress,” MJ corrected, scraping her nail deeper into his armpit and making Peter shriek. “I’m Mistress.”
Peter couldn’t think. Her finger had ten thousand volts of electricity, and she was sending it all straight through the suit into his skin. “Hahahahaha MJ!” he begged.
Without a word she dropped both her hands into his armpits. Peter screamed. “Hahahahahahahahaha no no hahahahahahaha!” This was torture! He’d never felt anything like this before. As her fingers danced across him, all he could do was twist like a fish on a hook and sputter helplessly. “Stahapahahap MJ pleeaseahhaheaheha stapahahpaha hahahahaha!”
If anything, MJ sped up her fingers and Peter shrieked louder, bouncing up and down uselessly on the bed, yanking helplessly at the cuffs. He couldn’t move! “Hahahahaha no gahahaadahad! I cahahahanaanahat hahahahaha I hahahaha! pleahahahahse!”
MJ’s gorgeous face towered over him with an uninterested expression. She might have been scrolling through her phone for all it looked like she cared as she brought him to the brink of madness.
“Call me Mistress,” MJ said. “Call me Mistress and you can have a little break.” Her fingers let up slightly with lighter but quicker touches.
Peter could think and breathe more, but her hands were still driving him wild. “Hahahahaha okay hehehahaha okay Mistress hahaha Mistress, Mistress hehe please stop, please stop!”
Mercifully, she did, moving her hands away with a small, triumphant smile, and Peter heaved helplessly for breath. “Oh god hehe oh god,” he whispered. “Don’t, please, no nails,” he begged without thinking. He’d had no idea, the tickling had been so intense…
MJ laid atop him, resting her chin on both hands. “So, Spiderman,” she said with a deadpan face. “Do you give up? Or does Mistress need to get mean?” She lifted an eyebrow and waggled her fingers menacingly.
“No wait,” he begged. “MJ please, you can’thahahahahahahahaha!” he exploded as she dove into his armpits again with abandon. “Hahahahahahaha!”
“Told you not to call me that,” MJ said conversationally. “Tickle tickle! Tickle tickle!”
“Hahahahahaha Mistress hahahahahaha Mistress, Mistress hahahahahahahaha!” All Peter could do was scream as MJ’s nails tormented his armpits. No matter how he twisted and tried to contort himself, she kept her fingers moving up and down. Even when he managed to briefly slip from her hands, she would adjust and dig back in.
“That won’t save you this time, honey,” MJ teased. Suddenly her knees were on his shoulders, pinning his arms down so he couldn’t move them. His armpits were open and totally exposed. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.”
“No,” Peter whispered. “No, Mistress, please…”
“Coochie coochie coo!”
Unable now to avoid her at all, Peter lost all control of his body. “Hahahahahahaha stop hahahahaha! hahahahaha please stop hahahahahaha!” Thrashing in his bonds, he felt sweat starting under the suit, every flick of MJ’s fingers sending new spasms through him. “Aeeeeehahahaha em jayayayayayayhahahahaha pleeaeeeeseaase!”
“Coochie coo for Mistress!” MJ had a wicked grin. “Cooche cooche coo, Spiderman!”
“Hahhahahaha stop stahahapahapah hahahahaha don’t hhahahahahaha Mistress!”
“I’ve gotcha, Spiderman. I’ve gotcha! Tell me where that diamond is!”
“MJ I cahahananhahan’t hahahahaha cahanahahan’t tahahahaaaake it!”
She slowed her fingers down, but kept the nails lightly scratching his armpits. Laughing and huffing, Peter regained his breath, astonished to feel tears running down his cheeks. “Honey hahaha please, oh hehe no more, hahaha Mistress please haha.”
“Hmmm,” MJ said smugly. “Calling me Mistress now, huh?” She flexed her fingers again and he screamed before going back to the light touches. “Give up, and I’ll stop.” She leaned closer. “Of course, that means you have to admit I beat you.”
As agonized and desperate as Peter was, his pride flared up at her tease. He was one of Earth’s mightiest heroes! He’d saved the planet and was New York City’s defender. Peter stole a quick look at his bedside clock. Eight minutes until the suit repowered and he won the bet…he could last that long. He wasn’t going to let his girlfriend’s tickles break him!
He shook his head. “Hehe no hehe.”
MJ took her hands away from his armpits and he gulped for air. “Okay,” she said. “You asked for it.” Her fingers hovered over his stomach. “Any last words?”
Peter tried to brace himself. Oh god…eight minutes. He could do that. He could.
“I’m coming, Spiderman.” Her fingers hovered over his stomach. “Mistress is coming to get you.”
Peter started giggling nervously. The anticipation of those hands on his ribs and stomach raised more sweat.
“The whole world thinks Spiderman’s tough,” MJ whispered. “But Mistress knows the chink in your armor.”
She began lightly tickling his stomach. Peter yelped. “Hahahaha!” he laughed.
“How’s your suit feel?” MJ chuckled. “Making you more sensitive?”
It was, too. MJ’s nails lightly gliding over his ribs and stomach was accentuated by Peter’s sweat and the suit’s sheer material. “Oh hahahaha no hahahaha.” The tickles were softer, but Peter’s laughs were deeper in his stomach, as if MJ were rubbing them out of him. And he was already exhausted from what she’d done to his armpits. “Hahahah stop haha Mistress please,” he begged without thinking.
MJ kept her smirk up. “Mistress has you,” she said, spidering his ribs. “Coochie coo!”
Peter bucked as she dug in again on his toned abs. His stomach was an instrument, and she played it expertly. “Hahahaha nooooo! Mistress hahahahaha Mistress!”
“Who’s your worst nightmare, huh? Who’s the only villain you’re scared of?”
“Hahahaha MJ! Hahahahahahahaha oh gahahahad!”
“Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo! Who’s tough now, Spiderman?”
“Ahahahahahahahahaha!” Peter cackled helplessly. “Hahahahaha nahaha hahahahaha no please hahahahaha naihahahailshals!”
“All those big strong villains who couldn’t make you talk,” MJ taunted. She crooked her nails inside his ribs as if tickling him from the inside out. “Turns out all they needed was a manicure.”
“Hahahahahahaha stop stahapahapahahap—“
“Mistress has you! I win! I win!”
“Hahahahaieeehahaiieee can’t brehehehhehehthehehehe”
She dug in harder, chuckling. “Coochie coochie coo! Let’s go back to your armpits, eh, tough guy?“
“hahahahaha noooooo!” Peter howled. “Stahahahahap hahahahaha!”
“Who’s tough now, Spiderman?” MJ teased. “Coochie coo!”
“hahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Give up!” MJ teased. “Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo—“
“Hahahahahahahaha okay hahahahaha okayyyyy hahahahaha I give! hahahahahahaha MISTRESS I GIVE hahahahahahaha!” Peter bellowed with the last of his strength. “Hahahahahaha please stop Mistress!”
He would have done or said anything she wanted. He couldn’t believe how easily she had wrecked him, but it was true. The clock was at six minutes. He’d barely lasted.
Blessedly, MJ stopped and lowered herself down to him, pulling his mask off. Red-faced and sobbing, Peter panted for breath as she leaned in close again with a teasing expression, lips just far enough away that he couldn’t reach her when he craned up for a kiss.
“So. Are you tough?” And she tickled his armpits quickly again, sending him into howls and paroxysms. “Spiderman!”
“Hahahahaha no I’m not hahaha no I’m not please you win, you win!”
She kissed him then and he kissed back passionately, MJ writhing so he could feel her body up against him through his suit and her fishnets. “Oh,” he moaned, overstimulated.
She broke the kiss and loomed over him. “Who has you in the palm of her hand?”
“You do,” Peter gasped, trying to rub his crotch against her. “Mistress!” He added hastily as she reached for his ribs.
MJ stopped, laughing at his panic. “I’ve really got you, don’t I? Who's the toughest villain you ever faced?” She bent down and kissed him again before coming back to whisper in his ear. Peter was so sensitive now that even her breath tickled and he whined, trying to shy away.
It only made her more determined, and she held him tight before blowing in his ear. “I beat you…Spiderman,” she kissed his earlobe, making him shudder. “Say it or I’ll go back to your armpits.”
“You—you beat me, Mistress,” Peter mumbled, blushing, but it was true. He’d been completely at her mercy.
The thought made him look at the clock again. Only one minute left before the suit restarted, and it made him bold. “You did beat me,” he admitted in a tease, “but when I get out of here, maybe I’ll tickle you back.” He smiled at her. “I wonder how tough you’re gonna be when I’ve got you strung up in a web.”
MJ followed his eyesight to the clock and then something wicked flashed through her eyes. “Execute protocol alpha-north-fifty-seven,” she said out loud. “Authorization code, Stark, Anthony.”
Suddenly the spider suit weighed a thousand pounds. Peter could barely lift his head, much less his limbs. “MJ what did you do?”
But she ignored him, moving her hands over the suit. This time it didn’t tickle. Instead a robotic voice announced, “Update in progress. Time to restart two hours and thirty minutes.”
“MJ, seriously, I can’t move!”
She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing tightly enough that he gasped (and yes, felt his crotch bulge even more; he couldn’t help it, she was breathtakingly beautiful). “I’ve memorized all your subroutines,” she said. “Right now your suit is paralyzed, and it won’t be responsive for the foreseeable future. Who’s stuck in the web now?”
Peter’s stomach sank down to his feet. She had him. He was completely helpless. But that meant…no, she couldn’t…she wouldn’t… “MJ?” He stammered.
MJ smiled as wide as he’d ever seen. “I’m not gonna lie, tickling you while you’re Spiderman is super hot. So why don’t we have a little more fun?” She blew him a kiss. “Let me show you what Mistress can really do.”
* * *
“You would be so screwed if I ever took up a career as a supervillainess,” MJ said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, yeah?” Peter said lazily. The two were lying on the couch in his apartment, Aunt May having gone to Jersey for the weekend to visit some high school friends. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
MJ raised her head from the crook of Peter’s arm and frowned at her boyfriend. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“No, no, I’m–I’m terrified of you—”
“Good, you should be.”
“I just think that…with respect…I’m the one with super-strength and the high-tech suit and you’re…brilliant and gorgeous and amazing, obviously…but you don’t have any of that stuff?” He finished on a hopeful question.
MJ rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve heard all your war stories, I know how easy it is to get you into a trap. Literally the other day Black Cat hit you with knockout gas from five feet away, and I,” she playfully flicked his nose, “am smarter than both you and her.”
“Okay, but,” Peter said defensively, “even after she knocked me out and tried to interrogate me for where I swapped the ACME diamond, I still stalled her long enough for the suit to reboot and get rid of her. The diamond’s still where I hid it until the owners get back from London."
MJ rested her face on her hand. Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful she was. “So what you’re saying is, you’re too tough for me,” she continued.
Peter hesitated, but eventually told the truth. “In this extremely limited circumstance…yes, I am.”
MJ smiled dangerously. “That’s where you’re wrong.“ She leaned in close for a kiss. “You’d be putty in my hands, Peter.”
Peter kissed her back. “MJ, I love you, but being a hero is the most important thing in the world. I have to live up to responsibility. You couldn’t break me.”
She climbed on top of him, their faces so close that her hair fell around Peter’s face. “Let’s make a bet. Your aunt’s gone for the weekend. If I can break you in 15 minutes, you do whatever I want for the next few days.”
“Okay, but…what if I win?”
MJ leaned even closer. “Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Peter could hardly breathe. “Uh–okay,” he stammered. “Yeah.”
* * *
“I still can’t believe you had handcuffs in your purse.” Peter was spread-eagled to his bed, both arms cuffed to a post and his ankles secured with pantyhose.
“Hush,” MJ said. “I hit you with knockout gas, remember?”
Something dawned on Peter. “You never said why I should be in the suit, you just told me to.” He had his full Spiderman outfit on, mask and everything. They’d agreed to act as if the suit had been overloaded or disabled; in such instances, it went into a backup mode that appeared for all the world like it was fully off, when actually it took 15 minutes to reboot—the exact trick that saved Peter from what had been a closer call with Black Cat than he wanted to admit.
“Verisimilitude,” MJ said. She was down at the foot of the bed, rummaging through her purse and other things Peter couldn’t see.
“What?”
“Ugh, you are such an uncultured math geek. I’m the evil villainess, you’re the trussed-up hero at my clutches.”
Seriously, what was she doing down here? Was that the sound of a nail file? “Uhh, MJ? Not that I’m helping you, but the clock is literally ticking…”
MJ suddenly rose up, and Peter gasped out loud. His girlfriend was wearing a full fishnet outfit, on both top and bottom. Her perfect legs and small but amazing breasts were on full display. “MJ, oh my god…” he murmured.
“I don’t know who this MJ is,” MJ interrupted. Her voice had lost its usual sarcastic quality. Now it was higher-pitched and sultry as she advanced on the bed. “But whoever she is, she won’t save you…Spiderman.”
Somehow Peter was able to glue his brain back together. “Uh, okay,” he panted. “Who are you, then?”
“Me?” MJ sat down on the bed edge, and Peter ogled her legs only inches from his face. “I’m the most dangerous villain New York City’s ever seen. Call me Mistress.”
Peter couldn’t deny the effect MJ’s outfit and tone of command were having on him. Already he could feel his crotch bulging, and had to wet his lips before he could talk. “What do you want?”
“Well,” MJ laid a hand under Peter’s chin and he gasped, flinching at how sharp her fingernails were. “I hear you know where the ACME diamond is. My friend Black Cat told me you resisted her. But she doesn’t know you like I do…”
MJ leaned forward. Peter’s eyes were locked on her chest. Oh god, he would give anything to touch her right now. “She doesn’t know your weakness.”
It took Peter a second to register what she had said. “My weakness?”
“That’s right,” MJ cooed softly, wrapping her legs around Peter’s waist and moving up to his head. She put her lips to his ear. “Last chance, Spiderman. Tell me where the diamond is.”
There was a huge part of Peter tempted to admit the truth right there, so enthralled was he with MJ’s body and heat, her fishnet nylons sliding along him. But he remembered: this was all about showing MJ he was tough. He did what he would in any interrogation; he avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Big mistake,” MJ whispered huskily. “Mistress has a secret weapon.” She twitched her nails under Peter’s chin.
Peter yelped. “Bahahahaha!”
MJ took her hand away and tilted her head with a sarcastic grin. She raised her hands in front of Peter’s face and wiggled her fingers. “What’s wrong, Spiderman? Are you…ticklish?”
Peter swallowed past his nervousness. MJ had tickled him before, but they had always been playful pokes and fights. Surely she wasn’t actually going to…
MJ lifted one finger and, wriggling it the whole time, slowly lowered it toward Peter’s left armpit.
Inside the suit, Peter’s eyes grew wide. He tugged at the cuffs as hard as he could, but with the suit’s dead weight restraining him, he couldn’t break them. Panic surged through him as he realized he was entirely at her mercy. “MJ,” he pleaded, “MJ, please don’t—”
“I already told you, Spiderman,” MJ cut him off brusquely. “My name is Mistress.” She slid her finger into his armpit and scratched.
“Hahahahahaha!” Peter erupted in laughter at her touch. “Hahahaha MJ, stop! Stop hahahaha!”
“Mistress,” MJ corrected, scraping her nail deeper into his armpit and making Peter shriek. “I’m Mistress.”
Peter couldn’t think. Her finger had ten thousand volts of electricity, and she was sending it all straight through the suit into his skin. “Hahahahaha MJ!” he begged.
Without a word she dropped both her hands into his armpits. Peter screamed. “Hahahahahahahahaha no no hahahahahahaha!” This was torture! He’d never felt anything like this before. As her fingers danced across him, all he could do was twist like a fish on a hook and sputter helplessly. “Stahapahahap MJ pleeaseahhaheaheha stapahahpaha hahahahaha!”
If anything, MJ sped up her fingers and Peter shrieked louder, bouncing up and down uselessly on the bed, yanking helplessly at the cuffs. He couldn’t move! “Hahahahaha no gahahaadahad! I cahahahanaanahat hahahahaha I hahahaha! pleahahahahse!”
MJ’s gorgeous face towered over him with an uninterested expression. She might have been scrolling through her phone for all it looked like she cared as she brought him to the brink of madness.
“Call me Mistress,” MJ said. “Call me Mistress and you can have a little break.” Her fingers let up slightly with lighter but quicker touches.
Peter could think and breathe more, but her hands were still driving him wild. “Hahahahaha okay hehehahaha okay Mistress hahaha Mistress, Mistress hehe please stop, please stop!”
Mercifully, she did, moving her hands away with a small, triumphant smile, and Peter heaved helplessly for breath. “Oh god hehe oh god,” he whispered. “Don’t, please, no nails,” he begged without thinking. He’d had no idea, the tickling had been so intense…
MJ laid atop him, resting her chin on both hands. “So, Spiderman,” she said with a deadpan face. “Do you give up? Or does Mistress need to get mean?” She lifted an eyebrow and waggled her fingers menacingly.
“No wait,” he begged. “MJ please, you can’thahahahahahahahaha!” he exploded as she dove into his armpits again with abandon. “Hahahahahahaha!”
“Told you not to call me that,” MJ said conversationally. “Tickle tickle! Tickle tickle!”
“Hahahahahaha Mistress hahahahahaha Mistress, Mistress hahahahahahahaha!” All Peter could do was scream as MJ’s nails tormented his armpits. No matter how he twisted and tried to contort himself, she kept her fingers moving up and down. Even when he managed to briefly slip from her hands, she would adjust and dig back in.
“That won’t save you this time, honey,” MJ teased. Suddenly her knees were on his shoulders, pinning his arms down so he couldn’t move them. His armpits were open and totally exposed. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.”
“No,” Peter whispered. “No, Mistress, please…”
“Coochie coochie coo!”
Unable now to avoid her at all, Peter lost all control of his body. “Hahahahahahaha stop hahahahaha! hahahahaha please stop hahahahahaha!” Thrashing in his bonds, he felt sweat starting under the suit, every flick of MJ’s fingers sending new spasms through him. “Aeeeeehahahaha em jayayayayayayhahahahaha pleeaeeeeseaase!”
“Coochie coo for Mistress!” MJ had a wicked grin. “Cooche cooche coo, Spiderman!”
“Hahhahahaha stop stahahapahapah hahahahaha don’t hhahahahahaha Mistress!”
“I’ve gotcha, Spiderman. I’ve gotcha! Tell me where that diamond is!”
“MJ I cahahananhahan’t hahahahaha cahanahahan’t tahahahaaaake it!”
She slowed her fingers down, but kept the nails lightly scratching his armpits. Laughing and huffing, Peter regained his breath, astonished to feel tears running down his cheeks. “Honey hahaha please, oh hehe no more, hahaha Mistress please haha.”
“Hmmm,” MJ said smugly. “Calling me Mistress now, huh?” She flexed her fingers again and he screamed before going back to the light touches. “Give up, and I’ll stop.” She leaned closer. “Of course, that means you have to admit I beat you.”
As agonized and desperate as Peter was, his pride flared up at her tease. He was one of Earth’s mightiest heroes! He’d saved the planet and was New York City’s defender. Peter stole a quick look at his bedside clock. Eight minutes until the suit repowered and he won the bet…he could last that long. He wasn’t going to let his girlfriend’s tickles break him!
He shook his head. “Hehe no hehe.”
MJ took her hands away from his armpits and he gulped for air. “Okay,” she said. “You asked for it.” Her fingers hovered over his stomach. “Any last words?”
Peter tried to brace himself. Oh god…eight minutes. He could do that. He could.
“I’m coming, Spiderman.” Her fingers hovered over his stomach. “Mistress is coming to get you.”
Peter started giggling nervously. The anticipation of those hands on his ribs and stomach raised more sweat.
“The whole world thinks Spiderman’s tough,” MJ whispered. “But Mistress knows the chink in your armor.”
She began lightly tickling his stomach. Peter yelped. “Hahahaha!” he laughed.
“How’s your suit feel?” MJ chuckled. “Making you more sensitive?”
It was, too. MJ’s nails lightly gliding over his ribs and stomach was accentuated by Peter’s sweat and the suit’s sheer material. “Oh hahahaha no hahahaha.” The tickles were softer, but Peter’s laughs were deeper in his stomach, as if MJ were rubbing them out of him. And he was already exhausted from what she’d done to his armpits. “Hahahah stop haha Mistress please,” he begged without thinking.
MJ kept her smirk up. “Mistress has you,” she said, spidering his ribs. “Coochie coo!”
Peter bucked as she dug in again on his toned abs. His stomach was an instrument, and she played it expertly. “Hahahaha nooooo! Mistress hahahahaha Mistress!”
“Who’s your worst nightmare, huh? Who’s the only villain you’re scared of?”
“Hahahaha MJ! Hahahahahahahaha oh gahahahad!”
“Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo! Who’s tough now, Spiderman?”
“Ahahahahahahahahaha!” Peter cackled helplessly. “Hahahahaha nahaha hahahahaha no please hahahahaha naihahahailshals!”
“All those big strong villains who couldn’t make you talk,” MJ taunted. She crooked her nails inside his ribs as if tickling him from the inside out. “Turns out all they needed was a manicure.”
“Hahahahahahaha stop stahapahapahahap—“
“Mistress has you! I win! I win!”
“Hahahahaieeehahaiieee can’t brehehehhehehthehehehe”
She dug in harder, chuckling. “Coochie coochie coo! Let’s go back to your armpits, eh, tough guy?“
“hahahahaha noooooo!” Peter howled. “Stahahahahap hahahahaha!”
“Who’s tough now, Spiderman?” MJ teased. “Coochie coo!”
“hahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Give up!” MJ teased. “Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo—“
“Hahahahahahahaha okay hahahahaha okayyyyy hahahahaha I give! hahahahahahaha MISTRESS I GIVE hahahahahahaha!” Peter bellowed with the last of his strength. “Hahahahahaha please stop Mistress!”
He would have done or said anything she wanted. He couldn’t believe how easily she had wrecked him, but it was true. The clock was at six minutes. He’d barely lasted.
Blessedly, MJ stopped and lowered herself down to him, pulling his mask off. Red-faced and sobbing, Peter panted for breath as she leaned in close again with a teasing expression, lips just far enough away that he couldn’t reach her when he craned up for a kiss.
“So. Are you tough?” And she tickled his armpits quickly again, sending him into howls and paroxysms. “Spiderman!”
“Hahahahaha no I’m not hahaha no I’m not please you win, you win!”
She kissed him then and he kissed back passionately, MJ writhing so he could feel her body up against him through his suit and her fishnets. “Oh,” he moaned, overstimulated.
She broke the kiss and loomed over him. “Who has you in the palm of her hand?”
“You do,” Peter gasped, trying to rub his crotch against her. “Mistress!” He added hastily as she reached for his ribs.
MJ stopped, laughing at his panic. “I’ve really got you, don’t I? Who's the toughest villain you ever faced?” She bent down and kissed him again before coming back to whisper in his ear. Peter was so sensitive now that even her breath tickled and he whined, trying to shy away.
It only made her more determined, and she held him tight before blowing in his ear. “I beat you…Spiderman,” she kissed his earlobe, making him shudder. “Say it or I’ll go back to your armpits.”
“You—you beat me, Mistress,” Peter mumbled, blushing, but it was true. He’d been completely at her mercy.
The thought made him look at the clock again. Only one minute left before the suit restarted, and it made him bold. “You did beat me,” he admitted in a tease, “but when I get out of here, maybe I’ll tickle you back.” He smiled at her. “I wonder how tough you’re gonna be when I’ve got you strung up in a web.”
MJ followed his eyesight to the clock and then something wicked flashed through her eyes. “Execute protocol alpha-north-fifty-seven,” she said out loud. “Authorization code, Stark, Anthony.”
Suddenly the spider suit weighed a thousand pounds. Peter could barely lift his head, much less his limbs. “MJ what did you do?”
But she ignored him, moving her hands over the suit. This time it didn’t tickle. Instead a robotic voice announced, “Update in progress. Time to restart two hours and thirty minutes.”
“MJ, seriously, I can’t move!”
She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing tightly enough that he gasped (and yes, felt his crotch bulge even more; he couldn’t help it, she was breathtakingly beautiful). “I’ve memorized all your subroutines,” she said. “Right now your suit is paralyzed, and it won’t be responsive for the foreseeable future. Who’s stuck in the web now?”
Peter’s stomach sank down to his feet. She had him. He was completely helpless. But that meant…no, she couldn’t…she wouldn’t… “MJ?” He stammered.
MJ smiled as wide as he’d ever seen. “I’m not gonna lie, tickling you while you’re Spiderman is super hot. So why don’t we have a little more fun?” She blew him a kiss. “Let me show you what Mistress can really do.”
