Peter did stop. Eventually, that is. Sam slumped forward as far as was allowed, gasping for air. "Oh, God." she breathed, over and over.
"Yes, breathe! I have awarded you that small courtesy." Peter said, brushing her hair away that had fallen over her face. He leaned against the wall to take in the sight. His lovely captive, her suntanned skin glistening with sweat, muscles starting to ache with fatigue, giggling and cursing him out. Feeling his gaze on her, Sam looked up at him. Her handsome captor, with his porcelain skin, short shaggy blonde hair, so normal and innocent looking, but with such a mean devilish side.
She loved it. She had attended kink parties before, been strapped down and tickled senseless by people she only just met. She had even paid professional doms for private sessions. No one could get the laughs out of her like Peter could, he was on a different level. They were friends back in high school almost a decade ago, and lost touch after he graduated, due to them being a year apart. Who in what universe would have thought they'd find each other again nine months back, in an online chat room for people into BDSM?
Of course, she had no idea it was him at first. She figured it was a curious coincidence, they lived in the same city, even went to the same high school. Until they arranged to meet, and sent each other photos of themselves. God only knows who was more surprised. It started with a couple of awkward coffee dates, which turned into less awkward dinner dates, which later led to their first Friday night tickling date at his place, at his invitation. And then another at her place the next Friday. And so on, and so forth. Not that they were a couple, not officially. Just friends, with unusual benefits.
The little stroll down memory lane suddenly took a hard left turn off a bridge, straight down into hell, when Sam felt that wicked vibrating flosser tip in the pit of her navel! Peter was behind her again, laying into her ribs, attacking her from two places at once. She could swear her laughter was echoing around the apartment back at her, mocking her. How none of her neighbors had made a noise complaint with the police, all this time, was a damn blessing.
"Oh, fuck, yeah." Peter growled. "That's for you, Sam. How's that feel? Like a little bug is stuck in there, buzzing around?"
Sam shook her entire body, trying to throw him off, but he held firm.
"Oh God, no! Please, no! F-f-fuck you!!" she cried out.
Peter shut off the flosser, stuffing it down in Sam's cleavage, exchanging it for the neon-colored toothbrush. "Thank you, dear." he said sweetly.
"You're welcome, asshole." Sam barely had enough time to say before he pressed a button on his new tool, and it began vibrating. Not in one spot, like the flosser, the toothbrush itself buzzed in his hand.
"No-no-no-no-no..." Sam tried to protest before the toothbrush introduced itself to her bare skin, as Peter took it for a trip around her entire torso. Starting from her waist and hips, around and around her stomach, inside of her navel, up the sides, along every single rib, buried in each armpit, until it ended up shoved between her breasts, next to the flosser, still buzzing. Peter left the toothbrush where it was, took out the flosser, and slid his hands up inside her bra. He teased her pebble-hard nipples, tickling them, rolling them around between his fingers, as he squeezed her firm breasts around the buzzing toothbrush.
Tears streamed from Sam's eyes as she laughed maniacally. Her "happy tears", she sometimes called them. Her throat was turning red, her stomach started to hurt, her fits of laughter punctuated by moans and squeals. Alarm bells were ringing all over her body, it felt as if bolts of lightning were stabbing into her brain.
"Do you love it?" Peter asked. "Maybe if you tell me you love it, I'll stop."
"I LOVE IT!" Sam cried out, with determination. "I LOVE BEING TICKLED!"
"Oh, you do? Then why should I stop, if you just said that you loved it?"
"YOU SUCK!" she shrieked, before dissolving into laughs again.
Peter's hands slid out of her bra, now clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, as his cruel digits snuck down to her shorts. Slipping his fingers in the waistband, he attacked the place where the top of the inner thigh met the groin, digging in and massaging tenderly.
Sam jumped so hard, her feet came off the ground, her knees buckling as she landed. Her head lolled to one side, as she pulled at the bonds on her wrists. She wanted to slap the ever-loving shit out of Peter so badly, ever since the first time he found that spot, during that first session they had at his place. All the times she had been tickled before, and somehow he was the one to stumble upon it? It was like a dream and a nightmare simultaneously coming true.
And she couldn't have been more thankful for him finding that damn spot.
She wasn't sure how long it had been since they started. Time seemed to slow down, play its little tricks on their minds during these sessions. She was almost certain she had been in this position, being put through a gauntlet of torture for almost an hour. When in reality, only a little over ten minutes had passed.
Fuck, why did Peter have such soft, beautiful hands? He could be a hand model, and here he chooses to use his gift for evil shit like this.
Not that she was complaining, mind you. She couldn't complain anyway, she was laughing too hard. Just when it was starting to hurt her ears, when it felt like she was on the verge of passing out...
An alarm chimed from Peter's phone, in his back pocket. Quick as a flash, his hands shot up and switched off the toothbrush, pulling it out of Sam's bra. Her laughter began to die down, while Peter reached up and undid the bungie cords around the wrist cuffs, lowering her arms. As she slumped forward, Peter undid the belt around her knees and threw it to the side, taking her in his arms, carefully sitting her down on the cushioning. He undid the cords on her ankle cuffs and held her close, stroking her hair, as her breathing gradually became level, her chest going in and out.
"Hey, it's okay, it's okay." he said. "You're okay. You're doing great."
She managed a smile. "You're Goddamn right."
"Let's clean you up and get you some water." Peter said, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom. "Don't get too comfortable. Your feet are next."
