Tabitha stands beside the bed, her straight, light brown hair gleaming in the afternoon light. Her slightly chubby figure is accentuated by a short shirt that reveals her cute belly ring, and her lips shine with gloss. She beams at Shane, who lies nervously on the bed, his fit tummy exposed and blonde hair tousled. His blue eyes dart anxiously, and his hands and feet are gently but firmly tied with soft rope. "It’s too late to escape, Shane," she teases, glancing mischievously at the chocolate syrup and sticking her tongue out playfully.
Tabitha lets out a teasing laugh, leaning close enough that her breath sends a shiver across Shane's stomach. His muscles twitch in anticipation, and giggles bubble up before she even touches him. "Your fit tummy is going to make this so much more fun," she says, her tone full of gleeful malice. Shane squirms but the ropes hold him fast, his escape attempts futile. "Tabitha, please, I can’t handle it!" he begs, but she only replies with witty, teasing retorts.
Tabitha starts with gentle, fluttery kisses around his belly button, each one making Shane giggle louder. Her lips linger, softly tickling him, and she gently nibbles his sides, watching his reactions with delight. "Tickle tickle, Shane! The more you laugh, the longer I’ll tease you," she whispers, her wet tongue barely brushing his skin. She loves seeing the torment on his face, the playful teasing seemingly endless, and she wonders aloud if she could tease him for an hour.
Shane howls with laughter, unable to do anything but smile and squirm. Tabitha leaves wet, glistening marks—lip gloss and beads of moisture—across his tummy. "I need to escape, Tabitha! This is too much!" he protests, but Tabitha only giggles and taunts him. "You know you can’t handle it, Shane. What’s the matter, is my hair tickling you too?" Her playful teasing continues, and she lets her hair brush his skin, using every tool at her disposal.
Shane giggles and groans, pleading for mercy. "Don’t lick my belly, Tabitha! Your tongue is way too gross!" Tabitha laughs, unfazed by his protests, and begins to swirl her wet tongue through the syrup, probing every ticklish spot. "If you giggle and smile, I don’t care how gross it is," she teases, licking up every drop while droplets bead and drip down Shane’s sides. His giggles reach a fever pitch, and she watches his reactions closely, delighting in every squeal and complaint.
Shane protests that the wetness is gross, but Tabitha doesn’t care, giving him sloppy, ticklish kisses that make him giggle even during breaks. She tricked him by pretending to untie him, only to tighten the knots and pour more syrup onto his belly. "Eeeewww! Tabitha, your tongue is too slimy!" he protests, but she only replies with witty tickle talk. "What are you going to do about it, Shane? I’m not done yet!" She licks up every drop, spreading syrup to every bare spot, and watches his face light up with laughter and dread.
Tabitha beams, suggesting another tickle punishment tomorrow. "I think you need a bit more tickling, don’t you agree?" she says, unable to hide her excitement. Shane sighs, a tired smile on his face, and reluctantly agrees that it might be for the best. The room settles into a warm, happy silence, with both knowing that the playful torment is far from over.
