Hey guys! This, I've always imagined, was the secret story that happened between Venom and Spiderman. I think this one might be a little short, too, but there's a link to the picture at the bottom. Hope that makes up for the shortness. Anyway, enjoy and R&R!
Story 4: Spiderman
Peter Parker was lying in bed listening to the radio, in his old suit. Not the black one, but the red-and-blue one. Over the past few days, Peter had changed a lot. It's all because of that stupid suit, he thought angrily. He lay there for almost an hour before he heard it. A reporter saying, "This just in, Venom is coming to our station to-" Suddenly, he heard crashing and then Venom's deadly voice over the radio say, "Parker! If you can hear me, meet me at the top of the water tower on the south end of the city. If you don't, then you can consider Mary-Jane dead by midnight."
Peter's eyes widened in anger and fright; anger towards Venom and fright for Mary-Jane. So he put on his mask and slung himself out the window, shooting webs at buildings as fast as he could. Eighth Street, he thought. Second Street, Fifth. He made a sharp right turn and went straight for about a mile. Once on top of the Water Tower, he heard Mary-Jane yelling out, "PETER!" "MARY-JANE!" he cried out, seeing her tied to the top of it. "Peter! Look out behind you!" she screamed. Right as he turned, Venom came out of the dark and punched him, causing him to black out.
The next thing he remembered is seeing an outline of Venom against blackness. He tried to shoot a web, but his arms and legs both were chained up. "That won't work, Parker," Venom said "Parker" with absolute disgust. "And don't think of escaping, because we're miles away from any kind of civilization. I'm gonna teach you a lesson about stealing my girl." With that, he tore off Spiderman's boots, the clothes that would protect his left thigh, and the clothing in front of his stomach, to reveal a six-pack of abs.
Venom grinned demonically and said, "I'm sure you'll enjoy this even more than I am." Then tentacles came out of him and began to tickle Spiderman. Two tickled his right foot, four tickled his left foot, three tickled his abs, and Venom himself licked his bare thigh and let the saliva drip down slowly while another tentacle forced itself through the other cloth on his other thigh and squeezed repeatedly. The last thing Venom did was take off the bottom half of his mask so he could see Spiderman kind of endurance Spiderman had would have been amazing, if he had trained for being tickle tortured by his enemies, that is.
He cried almost immediately and laughed so hard that he couldn't stand it. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He had never been tickled so ruthlessly and so much before at one time and half wished it would stop and half wished it would go on endlessly. He wondered about whether MJ was ok, and suddenly knew that he had to escape this new, torturous, Venom. But it tickles so much! He was fighting himself to try to escape. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! STOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPPP!" was the only thing he could say. Finally, Spiderman broke the chains on his arms and soon after, his legs, but before he could even stop Venom from tickling him, Venom grabbed his legs and two large tentacles held down his arms.
Multiple times, he tried to escape, but Venom's grasp was like solid steel: unbreakable. Eventually, Spiderman became too tired to escape anymore, and he just gave up and allowed Venom to tickle him, laughing insanely all the way: "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" This went on for at least three hours, but he lost count after that. But, finally, Venom did stop, and he passed out.
When he woke up, he was in his apartment again. Was the whole thing just a dream? He assumed it was because his suit he was wearing was in perfect condition, but a week later, he found a second Spiderman suit torn up exactly how Venom had done it hanging up by the closet door. Had it been just a dream? Had Venom really tickle tortured him? Or was still someone just messing with his head? Afterwards, Peter never fought an enemy too close for a month, in fear of being tickled the same way.