gonefishing
Registered User
- Joined
- Jan 5, 2025
- Messages
- 2
- Points
- 3
This story involves Zendaya's MJ tickle-torturing Tom Holland's Spiderman
Link to Part 1 is here: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/torturing-spiderman-f-m.444322/#post-5815600
MJ didn’t start with any teasing or gentle touches this time, but spidered her nails across his stomach. Weak and sensitive, Peter erupted. “Wahahahahahahahaha!” He protested uselessly.
Thanks to MJ’s overriding of the Spider-suit’s protocols, he was completely paralyzed, weighed down by unresponsive electronics that were totally locked in place and wouldn’t be rebooted for hours. As if that weren’t bad enough, he was handcuffed to the bedposts, spread-eagled and vulnerable.
In other words? He was as helpless as a fly in a web.
“Hahahahahahahaha!” MJ’s hands flew all over his torso and sides. The suit offered no protection from her attack at all. Already he could barely breathe.
Suddenly she stopped and let him suck air down desperately. “Please, Mistress,” he panted, remembering how she’d punished him earlier for not using her villainous alter ego. “I give up, I give up, I give up forever—“
“Shhh,” she laid a finger across his lips. He was so cowed by the threat of her tickling that he quieted instantly. Calmly, MJ tied her hair up in a bun. “Are you scared of me?”
Peter licked his lips nervously, caught. If he admitted that he was afraid, wouldn’t she just tickle him more? But if he tried to play nonchalant, wouldn’t she get him to teach him a lesson?
He hedged for both. “Do you want me to be?”
MJ grinned and moved down toward him. “Oh, yes. I’m a supervillain, Spiderman. I want you to be terrified.”
Peter watched with alarm as her hands crept along the suit. “Right but, you’re not actually a villain right?” He flashed a nervous grin he hoped was charming. “You’re my amazing girlfriend?”
“What if I am a villain?” she teased in a low voice. He shivered as her nylon-covered body slid slowly over the suit. The two materials felt sensitivity heightened if anything. “What if all this was a long con to get you helpless in my clutches and get you to do whatever I want?”
Her nails had reached his armpits. Peter’s eyes were wide in his head. “Mistress,” he whispered. “Please…”
“I’m your worst nightmare,” she leaned close enough to kiss him. Peter craned his head up for the kiss, but doing so meant digging her nails deeper into his armpits and he giggled through the kiss.
MJ broke it but writhed her leg across his crotch. He moaned and his whole body twitched, tickling him again. “Let me show you just how good a supervillainess I am,” she told him, her face completely serious. “Where’s the ACME diamond?”
Peter swallowed. The ACME diamond was worth millions of dollars, and was webbed to the back of a building in Stuyvesant Heights until the insurance people came to collect it. Only he and the police knew its location. He knew MJ wouldn’t actually take the diamond but this felt like something he shouldn’t actually reveal.
“Okay, we can play it that way.. Coochie coochie coo, Spiderman!”
“Whahahahahahahahahahaha! No hahahahahaha faahhahahahiihahahar!” The childish excuse was all he could manage.
“Mistress doesn’t play fair,” MJ teased. “But Mistress knows what you can’t stand!” Her nails kept skittering through his underarms.
“Hahahahahahahaha!” Peter had never been tickled this long or intensely in his life. He already felt sapped of energy, and the suit’s extra weight meant his body couldn’t even thrash as he screamed and struggled. “Hahahahahahaha MJ!”
Blissfully, blessedly, the nails stopped. Peter tried to blink tears from his eyes so he could see.
What he saw was MJ’s face staring down at him with stern disapproval. “MJ?” She said derisively. “Really?”
For a panic-stricken moment he couldn’t remember what she meant. “Oh god I’m sorry! Mistress I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“
Without a word she rose from the bed. “Well if your armpits won’t tell me where the diamond is, maybe your feet will.”
“No!” He screamed before he could control himself. “I mean, Mistress please hahahahahaha!” He cut off with a shriek of laughter as she ran a nail up the sole of his foot. His whole body spasmed as if she’d shocked him.
“You can make it stop,” she teased. “You know you can make it stop. Or…” she wiggled her fingers.
Peter swallowed and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. He felt so childish pinned down in his bed, weighted down by the suit. But somehow watching MJ torture him was the worst part. “I’m not going to tell you where the diamond is,” he told the ceiling. “And I know that means you’re going to—tickle—but I just can’t HAHAHAHAHA!”
She scrambled all five nails up one foot and back down again without stopping. “Tickle tickle Spiderman! Where is it? Where is it?”
“AHAHAHAHHA!” Peter thrashed in his bonds. If he could just make the suit move!
“Coochie coochie coo! You like that? Huh, you like that, tough guy?”
“Hahahahahahahahahaha nahahahahnoooo! Stahapahapahapha please stop hahahahahaha Mistress please!”
“Oh, you want me to stop? Huh?” She grabbed his foot with her other hand to pin it down and raked her nails across the bottom again. “Is that what you want?”
“hahahahahahaha yes!!” He shrieked. “Yeahahahahahahahahas!”
MJ stopped, letting him gasp for air. “Please stop,” he panted ceaselessly, “please Mistress, please.”
“Peter.” The tone change in MJ’s voice made him look up. Her face had lost its playful, dangerous look, and was sincere as could be.
Oh thank God, he thought. She was finally listening to him.
“If you want me to stop,” she said, “I’ll stop.” Peter opened his mouth to blurt out yes, but she held a finger in the air. “But do you really want me to stop?”
And she slithered up his body, sliding her nylon-covered breasts over his erection. The one that had popped up the moment she started tickling him.
Peter shuddered, “Ohhhhhh.”
She smiled. “Because you seem to like it.”
The panic of being tickled again surged in him and he babbled, “No, MJ, Mistress, I—”
“Shhh.” She laid a finger over his mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t notice the way you blushed and hid all the other times I tickled you?”
Peter stared at her, astonished. How had she… “But you didn’t say anything.”
“I kept waiting for you to tell me.” She twitched her leg back and forth, and Peter couldn’t help it: he groaned and writhed his hips up against her to increase the friction. “You’re so cute when you laugh.”
“Ah-oh-MJ-”
“And it must be so hard for you,” she cooed, moving her hips now too, “being big brave Spiderman to the whole world. Isn’t it nice to know that in one little place you’re at my mercy?”
He didn’t answer, so caught up in her and grinding against her, but MJ noticed, and flicked her nails in his armpits quickly. “Hahaha!”
She moved her head down and kissed him long and hard, Peter desperate to use his hands and touch her as her nyloned skin turned him on. Finally she stopped the kiss and stayed with their foreheads touching. “So,” she whispered, “do you really want me to stop?”
Peter panted, caught between torture and ecstasy. On the one hand, her body was so close, so gorgeous he just wanted to make out with her…on the other, the helpless tickling had sent him into an erotic overdrive…on the one hand, those vicious nails had completely wrecked him…but on the other hand, those vicious nails had completely wrecked him…
“No,” he whispered almost unconsciously.
MJ smiled, devious again. “What do you want me to do to you?” she asked slyly.
Peter closed his eyes. “MJ…Mistress…I want you…to tickle me.”
“To tickle you?” Her voice took on a mock surprise. “But Spiderman, you’re weak to tickling.”
“MJ,” he whined.
“Okay,” she giggled. “Tell me where the diamond is, and I’ll stop for real this time. But otherwise…I’m gonna get you.” There was a rustling sound, and Peter opened his eyes just as she reached his feet and began attacking both feet at once. Completely unable to move his feet in the suit, all he could do was cackle.
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” The laughter was torture; he was completely at the mercy of MJ’s talented fingers and long nails. Yet now that he knew she was doing it to him because he asked, his demented screams were strangely relaxing. It was a relief, like steam pouring from a kettle, as she dug in and obliterated all his higher brain functions.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha!”
“That’s right, Spiderman! Coochie coo! Mistress has gotcha! Mistress has gotcha!”
“Bahahahahaha Miiiiehehehehehehstreahahsahss! Gahahahahahahad stahahahap ahahahahahahahahah stop!”
“Say mercy,” she teased. “Say mercy, tickle tickle!”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahaha I cahahahana’t can’t breathe! Cahahanahan’t breaheahathe!”
MJ turned her head around to look at him. “Hush, you’re fine.”
“Okay,” he babbled, “okay, just not my feet, MJ, please.”
“Not just your feet?” she frowned. “You want me to tickle you in two places at once?”
“No! That’s not what I said, I—”
“Okay, Spiderman,” MJ cut him off with a grin. “Let’s see how tough you really are.”
She readjusted herself and placed both hands on his soles again. Peter yelped in protest, but she wasn’t done. With horror, he watched her long legs flex until her feet were positioned at his helpless armpits.
“Oh gohahahahahahwawahahahahdwhawhahahahaha!” He bellowed as her nails began dancing up and down his taut soles. MJ dug in, letting him scream himself hoarse as her fingers coaxed pure desperation from him. Now that he knew he could let himself be helpless at her hands, Peter could shriek with abandon at his girlfriend’s torture. It felt sort of—
“HahahahahahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Peter exploded as MJ began wiggling her nylon-clad toes in his armpits.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Instantly he was nothing but tickled. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and…
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MISTRHEAHAHAHEHAEHASHEHEHSEHSEHS!”
“Poor Spiderman, can’t take the tickles!”
“MJ! EMMMMAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAYAYAYAYAHAHAAYAHAYAYAHAHAHAHA!”
“Coochie coochie coo Spiderman! Surrender to Mistress! Coochie coochie coo!”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAI’LLHAHAHAHAHAHAHATALHAHAHAHALAKAHAKALK!” Screaming it was the first time he’d given up in—when? He didn’t know. All he knew was begging, “HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHA MERCYHAHAHMERAHAHCEEEHAHAHAHAMISTRESSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
And then she was there on top of him, kissing him deeply, grinding her body on his, her leg rubbing his bulging crotch where his erection yearned to be free, he was exhausted, he could scarcely breathe, he couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop rubbing, her hair, her skin, her scent, her heat, her hand was under his suit, gripping him hard, pumping—
“Where’s the diamond?” she panted. “Tell me, honey. Tell me where it is.”
“Ugh ah oh god,” he gasped to the universe. “Stuyvesant, bodega roof, Mistress, you own me, please ahhhhh!” he trailed off as he exploded in her hand. “Oh god, oh Christ!”
When he finally came back to himself, MJ’s head rested on his chest with a small smile. “How’d that feel, Spiderman?”
Peter leaned his head all the way back. “Oh my god, Mistress—”
“It’s MJ again,” she bopped his nose. “Mistress only comes out when you’ve been a bad boy. Or a really good boy.”
“Yeah,” he panted. “Sure. MJ, that was—that was incredible.”
“Good.” She moved up to kiss him softly. “I guess there’s just one question left.”
Peter looked at her imploringly. “Don’t make me go get the diamond for you.”
MJ laughed deeply and genuinely. “No. We’ve gotta figure out just how well the spidersuit can get cleaned.”
Link to Part 1 is here: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/torturing-spiderman-f-m.444322/#post-5815600
MJ didn’t start with any teasing or gentle touches this time, but spidered her nails across his stomach. Weak and sensitive, Peter erupted. “Wahahahahahahahaha!” He protested uselessly.
Thanks to MJ’s overriding of the Spider-suit’s protocols, he was completely paralyzed, weighed down by unresponsive electronics that were totally locked in place and wouldn’t be rebooted for hours. As if that weren’t bad enough, he was handcuffed to the bedposts, spread-eagled and vulnerable.
In other words? He was as helpless as a fly in a web.
“Hahahahahahahaha!” MJ’s hands flew all over his torso and sides. The suit offered no protection from her attack at all. Already he could barely breathe.
Suddenly she stopped and let him suck air down desperately. “Please, Mistress,” he panted, remembering how she’d punished him earlier for not using her villainous alter ego. “I give up, I give up, I give up forever—“
“Shhh,” she laid a finger across his lips. He was so cowed by the threat of her tickling that he quieted instantly. Calmly, MJ tied her hair up in a bun. “Are you scared of me?”
Peter licked his lips nervously, caught. If he admitted that he was afraid, wouldn’t she just tickle him more? But if he tried to play nonchalant, wouldn’t she get him to teach him a lesson?
He hedged for both. “Do you want me to be?”
MJ grinned and moved down toward him. “Oh, yes. I’m a supervillain, Spiderman. I want you to be terrified.”
Peter watched with alarm as her hands crept along the suit. “Right but, you’re not actually a villain right?” He flashed a nervous grin he hoped was charming. “You’re my amazing girlfriend?”
“What if I am a villain?” she teased in a low voice. He shivered as her nylon-covered body slid slowly over the suit. The two materials felt sensitivity heightened if anything. “What if all this was a long con to get you helpless in my clutches and get you to do whatever I want?”
Her nails had reached his armpits. Peter’s eyes were wide in his head. “Mistress,” he whispered. “Please…”
“I’m your worst nightmare,” she leaned close enough to kiss him. Peter craned his head up for the kiss, but doing so meant digging her nails deeper into his armpits and he giggled through the kiss.
MJ broke it but writhed her leg across his crotch. He moaned and his whole body twitched, tickling him again. “Let me show you just how good a supervillainess I am,” she told him, her face completely serious. “Where’s the ACME diamond?”
Peter swallowed. The ACME diamond was worth millions of dollars, and was webbed to the back of a building in Stuyvesant Heights until the insurance people came to collect it. Only he and the police knew its location. He knew MJ wouldn’t actually take the diamond but this felt like something he shouldn’t actually reveal.
“Okay, we can play it that way.. Coochie coochie coo, Spiderman!”
“Whahahahahahahahahahaha! No hahahahahaha faahhahahahiihahahar!” The childish excuse was all he could manage.
“Mistress doesn’t play fair,” MJ teased. “But Mistress knows what you can’t stand!” Her nails kept skittering through his underarms.
“Hahahahahahahaha!” Peter had never been tickled this long or intensely in his life. He already felt sapped of energy, and the suit’s extra weight meant his body couldn’t even thrash as he screamed and struggled. “Hahahahahahaha MJ!”
Blissfully, blessedly, the nails stopped. Peter tried to blink tears from his eyes so he could see.
What he saw was MJ’s face staring down at him with stern disapproval. “MJ?” She said derisively. “Really?”
For a panic-stricken moment he couldn’t remember what she meant. “Oh god I’m sorry! Mistress I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“
Without a word she rose from the bed. “Well if your armpits won’t tell me where the diamond is, maybe your feet will.”
“No!” He screamed before he could control himself. “I mean, Mistress please hahahahahaha!” He cut off with a shriek of laughter as she ran a nail up the sole of his foot. His whole body spasmed as if she’d shocked him.
“You can make it stop,” she teased. “You know you can make it stop. Or…” she wiggled her fingers.
Peter swallowed and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. He felt so childish pinned down in his bed, weighted down by the suit. But somehow watching MJ torture him was the worst part. “I’m not going to tell you where the diamond is,” he told the ceiling. “And I know that means you’re going to—tickle—but I just can’t HAHAHAHAHA!”
She scrambled all five nails up one foot and back down again without stopping. “Tickle tickle Spiderman! Where is it? Where is it?”
“AHAHAHAHHA!” Peter thrashed in his bonds. If he could just make the suit move!
“Coochie coochie coo! You like that? Huh, you like that, tough guy?”
“Hahahahahahahahahaha nahahahahnoooo! Stahapahapahapha please stop hahahahahaha Mistress please!”
“Oh, you want me to stop? Huh?” She grabbed his foot with her other hand to pin it down and raked her nails across the bottom again. “Is that what you want?”
“hahahahahahaha yes!!” He shrieked. “Yeahahahahahahahahas!”
MJ stopped, letting him gasp for air. “Please stop,” he panted ceaselessly, “please Mistress, please.”
“Peter.” The tone change in MJ’s voice made him look up. Her face had lost its playful, dangerous look, and was sincere as could be.
Oh thank God, he thought. She was finally listening to him.
“If you want me to stop,” she said, “I’ll stop.” Peter opened his mouth to blurt out yes, but she held a finger in the air. “But do you really want me to stop?”
And she slithered up his body, sliding her nylon-covered breasts over his erection. The one that had popped up the moment she started tickling him.
Peter shuddered, “Ohhhhhh.”
She smiled. “Because you seem to like it.”
The panic of being tickled again surged in him and he babbled, “No, MJ, Mistress, I—”
“Shhh.” She laid a finger over his mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t notice the way you blushed and hid all the other times I tickled you?”
Peter stared at her, astonished. How had she… “But you didn’t say anything.”
“I kept waiting for you to tell me.” She twitched her leg back and forth, and Peter couldn’t help it: he groaned and writhed his hips up against her to increase the friction. “You’re so cute when you laugh.”
“Ah-oh-MJ-”
“And it must be so hard for you,” she cooed, moving her hips now too, “being big brave Spiderman to the whole world. Isn’t it nice to know that in one little place you’re at my mercy?”
He didn’t answer, so caught up in her and grinding against her, but MJ noticed, and flicked her nails in his armpits quickly. “Hahaha!”
She moved her head down and kissed him long and hard, Peter desperate to use his hands and touch her as her nyloned skin turned him on. Finally she stopped the kiss and stayed with their foreheads touching. “So,” she whispered, “do you really want me to stop?”
Peter panted, caught between torture and ecstasy. On the one hand, her body was so close, so gorgeous he just wanted to make out with her…on the other, the helpless tickling had sent him into an erotic overdrive…on the one hand, those vicious nails had completely wrecked him…but on the other hand, those vicious nails had completely wrecked him…
“No,” he whispered almost unconsciously.
MJ smiled, devious again. “What do you want me to do to you?” she asked slyly.
Peter closed his eyes. “MJ…Mistress…I want you…to tickle me.”
“To tickle you?” Her voice took on a mock surprise. “But Spiderman, you’re weak to tickling.”
“MJ,” he whined.
“Okay,” she giggled. “Tell me where the diamond is, and I’ll stop for real this time. But otherwise…I’m gonna get you.” There was a rustling sound, and Peter opened his eyes just as she reached his feet and began attacking both feet at once. Completely unable to move his feet in the suit, all he could do was cackle.
“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” The laughter was torture; he was completely at the mercy of MJ’s talented fingers and long nails. Yet now that he knew she was doing it to him because he asked, his demented screams were strangely relaxing. It was a relief, like steam pouring from a kettle, as she dug in and obliterated all his higher brain functions.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha!”
“That’s right, Spiderman! Coochie coo! Mistress has gotcha! Mistress has gotcha!”
“Bahahahahaha Miiiiehehehehehehstreahahsahss! Gahahahahahahad stahahahap ahahahahahahahahah stop!”
“Say mercy,” she teased. “Say mercy, tickle tickle!”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahaha I cahahahana’t can’t breathe! Cahahanahan’t breaheahathe!”
MJ turned her head around to look at him. “Hush, you’re fine.”
“Okay,” he babbled, “okay, just not my feet, MJ, please.”
“Not just your feet?” she frowned. “You want me to tickle you in two places at once?”
“No! That’s not what I said, I—”
“Okay, Spiderman,” MJ cut him off with a grin. “Let’s see how tough you really are.”
She readjusted herself and placed both hands on his soles again. Peter yelped in protest, but she wasn’t done. With horror, he watched her long legs flex until her feet were positioned at his helpless armpits.
“Oh gohahahahahahwawahahahahdwhawhahahahaha!” He bellowed as her nails began dancing up and down his taut soles. MJ dug in, letting him scream himself hoarse as her fingers coaxed pure desperation from him. Now that he knew he could let himself be helpless at her hands, Peter could shriek with abandon at his girlfriend’s torture. It felt sort of—
“HahahahahahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Peter exploded as MJ began wiggling her nylon-clad toes in his armpits.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Instantly he was nothing but tickled. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and…
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MISTRHEAHAHAHEHAEHASHEHEHSEHSEHS!”
“Poor Spiderman, can’t take the tickles!”
“MJ! EMMMMAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAYAYAYAYAHAHAAYAHAYAYAHAHAHAHA!”
“Coochie coochie coo Spiderman! Surrender to Mistress! Coochie coochie coo!”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAI’LLHAHAHAHAHAHAHATALHAHAHAHALAKAHAKALK!” Screaming it was the first time he’d given up in—when? He didn’t know. All he knew was begging, “HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHA MERCYHAHAHMERAHAHCEEEHAHAHAHAMISTRESSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
And then she was there on top of him, kissing him deeply, grinding her body on his, her leg rubbing his bulging crotch where his erection yearned to be free, he was exhausted, he could scarcely breathe, he couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop rubbing, her hair, her skin, her scent, her heat, her hand was under his suit, gripping him hard, pumping—
“Where’s the diamond?” she panted. “Tell me, honey. Tell me where it is.”
“Ugh ah oh god,” he gasped to the universe. “Stuyvesant, bodega roof, Mistress, you own me, please ahhhhh!” he trailed off as he exploded in her hand. “Oh god, oh Christ!”
When he finally came back to himself, MJ’s head rested on his chest with a small smile. “How’d that feel, Spiderman?”
Peter leaned his head all the way back. “Oh my god, Mistress—”
“It’s MJ again,” she bopped his nose. “Mistress only comes out when you’ve been a bad boy. Or a really good boy.”
“Yeah,” he panted. “Sure. MJ, that was—that was incredible.”
“Good.” She moved up to kiss him softly. “I guess there’s just one question left.”
Peter looked at her imploringly. “Don’t make me go get the diamond for you.”
MJ laughed deeply and genuinely. “No. We’ve gotta figure out just how well the spidersuit can get cleaned.”
