Cousin  Experiments

It was summer vacation and Marc was visiting his family with his parents. His grandparents, uncle, aunt, and everyone else was there.
In the afternoon, they decided to take a short walk through a nearby forest. Everyone was supposed to come along, but Marc and his cousin Florence resisted and ended up staying at home...
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“Marc, can you come here for a moment?”
Marc was just about to jump into the pool and managed to catch himself just in time.
He poked his head through the balcony door into the living room: “What is it?”
“Can you come here for a moment? Just a minute" came the voice from somewhere in another room.
Slightly annoyed, Marc stepped into his flip-flops and went through the living room in the direction where he located Florence's voice.
“What is it?” he asked again, leaning through the living room door. He was now realizing how cold the air conditioning was set and regretted not having put on his shirt.  

“Can you come here for a second, please?” Florence repeated, standing in her room and motioning for Marc to come to her.
Marc hesitantly stepped out of the living room and went into her room.

Now he regretted it even more not having put on his T-shirt. Florence was an extremely attractive girl, and somehow he felt uncomfortable standing in her room wearing only his swimming trunks. He didn't know whether it should make him more or less nervous that she, too, was wearing nothing but a far too skimpy top with her sweatpants. Florence crossed her arms over her chest and scrutinized him.
"Don't worry, I don't want anything bad. I just want to try something out, okay?"
Marc leaned against the doorframe. "Try what?"
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She grinned so widely that he automatically had to smile too, even though he didn't even know why.
Her eyes sparkled. “Can you turn around ?”
His skin tingled as he slowly turned. “What for?”
“Just stand still.”
She circled him, so close that he could smell her scent, something sweet, like gummy bears with vanilla.
Then, he felt her grasp his forearms, grab his right wrist, and then—click—something snapped into place. A second click, and suddenly he realized that his hands were cuffed behind his back.

Marc flinched, reflexively trying to free himself, but the metal just rattled. “What—?”
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“Let's see if you're still as ticklish as you used to be,” she said solemnly. Marc's heart skipped a beat.
“No! Florence... wait!” he gasped, but she had already buried both hands deep into his sides.

"AHH"
He jerked as if electrified, stumbled backwards, and fell onto her bed with a crash. Florence immediately jumped after him, giving him no chance to get up, and pinned him down on the bed.
Her fingers continued to dig mercilessly into the spaces between his ribs. Marc squealed and squirmed.

She remembered it as if it were yesterday, when they both, still in elementary school, used to go at each other until one of them was screaming of laughter. Now Marc wasn't five anymore, but almost an adult, yet still defenseless against her tickle attacks. He tried to arch his back and wiggle his way out of her grip but with his hands cuffed behind his back, he merely flailed around like a fish on land.

"Florence, please, stop! STOP... I—I—please, I can't..."

Marc kicked his heels into the mattress, trying to push her off, but Florence was surprisingly strong. She held him down by his chest with one hand, while the other repeatedly dug her nails into his flanks.
He pressed his lips together, but every new attack drove an uncontrollable gasp from his throat. "Wait! Stop! hahaha—Florence, stop!"

But she just laughed and intensified the attack, now running both hands up and down his sides simultaneously. She worked him over with such vehemence that Marc*s laughter tipped into a hoarse, almost panicked shriek.

Amused, Florence watched him gasp for air for a few seconds. Then she stopped, though without loosening her grip on his hips.

Marc panted, barely able to get a word out. He could feel how red his face was, how the heat was building up there, as if he had been lying in the sun for hours.

"We're going to play a game now," she announced and sat astride his hips, making it nearly impossible for him to move. "I'm going to go through every single rib, and if you manage not to make a sound, I'll stop." She raised an eyebrow. "If not, I have to start over. Deal?"
She sounded like a child who was just reinventing the rule book, and Marc knew that any discussion was pointless and therefore remained silent in agreement.

"Alright. Number one." She counted along, pressing precisely with her fingertips into the first notch just below his chest. First, she took it slow, almost tenderly, and then pressed into the tissue with wicked force. Marc felt his entire ribcage tense up. Florence poked her finger into the second rib, then slowly slid further down, examining each one with surgical precision.

Marc pressed his lips together, breathing only in gasps. Florence clearly enjoyed the torturous game. She proceeded ever so slowly, as if savoring every second of the power she held over him. Her fingers lingered on each rib just until she noticed that Marc was about to burst out laughing. Then she paused for a moment and continued.

Marc clutched the bedding and tugged at the handcuffs, which chafed against his skin.
When she finally finished the bottom-most rib, she let go. Marc collapsed from exhaustion. He felt cold sweat on his forehead. A single thought: it was finally over.

Then, swift as lightning, she grabbed him again with both hands. This time she aimed for the most sensitive spot right above his hip. Marc's entire torso jerked and he immediately let out a roar.

“Oh nooo” Florence said exaggeratedly, “so close to the finish line and then you lost after all.” She grinned and let her fingers dart across his upper body again. Depending on how he twisted and turned, she attacked either his sides, his ribs, or his stomach, now even more mercilessly than before.

Marc gasped, screamed, and arched his back into the mattress, but Florence remained on top of him like a spider on its prey. His vision already started to blur when there was a clatter outside. Footsteps on the terrace, a murmur that quickly grew louder. The family. They were coming back.

"Shit ! " Florence hissed, startling up. Marc felt a burning on his wrists, and his pulse pounded heavily in his ears. Florence fumbled with trembling fingers at the handcuffs. The voices of the family were rapidly approaching.

Finally, the handcuffs clicked open.

She grabbed his arm, pulled him close: "One word about this and I'll tickle you until you pass out!"
Marc nodded hastily, grabbed his slippers, and sprinted to the pool. His hair was tousled and his skin was red all over from the tickling. He jumped into the pool and dove under to hide the traces of torture as best he could.