Once The Man had finished restraining him in place, Timothée quickly discovered that he could only move his head by twisting it from left to right, finding only a small moment of restful comfort in laying entirely on his front where he would stare into nothing but the crimson of the bed sheet.

He could flex his fingers, he could stretch out his toes, he could blink, raise his eyebrows and just about wobble his hips - but the length of his arms and legs, the width of his shoulders and back … They were more or less bound into an extraordinarily tight splay.

No matter what The Ma— Damnit, John— had planned, Timothée would not be able to fight it, all he could do was endure.

Timothée closed his eyes in an attempt to focus, as soon as he felt the weight of John arrive behind him.

The entire depth of the bed sank; the bonds squeaked, the wood of the furniture creaked - all because John had simply loomed in a menacing kneel between Timothée’s thighs.

Timothée acknowledged the blushing burn across his face as John perched quietly into place - in this position, John would surely be greeted by the sight of Timothée’s widened thighs and the smooth space contained beneath the thin nylon of the provided thong - Timothée had never allowed another man to see him this way, and it was beyond likely he would never allow another man to see him like this again.

Timothée felt the softness of John’s palms arrive over each of his butt cheeks in the form of a gentle spank - the impact of each palm was strong enough to cause Timothée to jolt, yet it was playful enough to feel more like a pat.

The hotel room was so quiet that the impatient London traffic could be heard on the other side of the window.

Thumbs smoothed butt cheeks apart, causing that burn over Timothée’s flame to boil a little harder - he embraced a fierce embarrassment whilst welcoming a satisfying awareness that this part of his body was admired and adored - maybe this was an ass thing, maybe this guy just wanted a taste, maybe I’ll enjoy something like that…

Another light spank arrived over his right cheek and then his left —pat! pat!—, at such a quick pace that Timothée had no choice but to turn his head over his shoulder and try to look John in the eye.

His gut reaction was to protest, but after being promised so much and paid in the form of a mother fucking Academy Award, Timothée instead decided to sneer at John and narrow his eyes, as if acting out the role of someone teased and tested.

“… Ouch …” Timothée smirked, the simple delivery of the noise presented in an attempt to please John, whilst also being so very genuine in its whispered expel.

As John slid the warmth of his hands up and around Timothée’s lower back, where he massaged him firmly and kissed each of Timothée’s butt cheeks, Timothée’s smirk transformed into a blissful smile that unintentionally confirmed to John he was optimistically unaware and tricked into a false sense of relaxation, before the real meaning of why he was here was laid out to bare.

Before Timothée could begin to wonder if he could get used to doing this kind of thing with another guy, what felt like an accidental slither of fingertips ventured a little too far up each side of his ribcage, towards the cavernous and conveniently open depths of each of his hairless underarms.

A violating impression only caused by the past minimal infliction of playful family or frisky friends forced Timothée to naturally attempt to protect the sensitivity of his armpits by snatching his elbows to his sides, however the taunt strength of his bondage refused any allowance.

Timothée swiped his face to the side and screwed his eyes shut, his gritted teeth on vibrant display as an animated grin tore his lips apart - John had now subtly introduced all ten of his long, enquiring fingers deep inside each of Timothée‘s underarms, five combing into his left and five curling into his right.

The unwelcome presence of such intrusive touch did not linger enough for Timothée to worry or verbalise any serious concern; it was so expertly light, it was so very much there and then it was not, but it was enough to cause his shoulders to jump and drop whilst his body spontaneously tugged at the ropework restraining once useful limbs so far apart.

Only when fingers not belonging to him increased pressure, as well as the depth of their penetration, did Timothée begin to feel vandalised beyond comprehension.

Without meaning so, he leapt towards the ceiling as if electrocuted; he thrashed wildly under the poke, prod and constant pry of fingernails that seemed to have a life of their own.

His mind became blown in an instant, a cataclysmic explosion of colours mixed with jet black consumed his sight as a thunderous and unapologetic grunt of distress blew out of his mouth.

He became engulfed by how ticklish it could feel to have his underarms exploited in such a way, so suddenly, without prior discussion or debate; within seconds he no longer owned his body nor its movements - he wriggled and jerked across the bed sheets, the rope taunt and firm in its knotting — creak! creak! creak! — his slim, vulnerable and paid for frame ravaged by torment as the grasp from a man now laying over his back became merciless and devastating, so much so that it caused Timothée to growl out the word, “—Hey!—”

The fingers did not stop.

Much to Timothée’s alarmed anguish and dribbled despair, the fingers persisted in their hunt, clawing into underarms he could not shield, as deep as they possibly could, scratching, scribbling, scrawling into the silky soft delves of each armpit, transforming Timothée into a kicking, punching, writhing stretch that could hardly move an inch.

“—Hey! Hey, stop it!—”

The bed shook as if there were a nearby earthquake, its richter scale at ten, the leather cuffs around Timothée’s ankles and wrists refusing to let Timothée fidget and flounder as much as the vibration in the confines of his mind demanded him to - he roared like an animal, his eyes bulging open in exasperation as he head butted the mattress like a mad man, “—Hey! Stop it! Come on!—”, it was too much, too out of the blue, too consistent - it rudely gave him no choice but to collapse into a heap of dumbfounded hysterics where he could only giggle, shriek, shout and bellow out breathless, uncontrollable laughter with a level of vigour he did not think possible - if I let go, will it make this better?—

“—Yo, John!—” he sounded genuinely surprised, “—That’s not cool!—”, he wheezed in disbelief, unable to notice how quickly his verbal cry in stating the obvious would follow the questioning of self defence that took place behind his now creased forehead, “—Hey! We, we didn’t talk about!—” he sounded delirious, his voice high pitched, his face the visual of twisted, “—Get outta there!—”, he felt the press of John’s chest weigh down over his back, where his captor tightly coiled around his frame in the form of an unyielding bare hug, those jabbing fingers ravaging his underarms with an aggressive force, submerging Timothée in a wrap of miserably spectacular bodily tolerance, “—Please please please, for real!—” he wailed, his slender frame now practically consumed by muscles and six foot one brawn …

Timothée had never begged or pleaded in his life, not for anyone or anything - yet despite the intensity of his current circumstance, it oddly felt ‘right’ that almost every step he had ever taken since being born on this earth had led him to this very moment, a moment of viscerally mental and physically demanding carnage - every breathless plea was actually for the Oscar, he was being made to work for the award …

The past no longer mattered, neither did what was at stake, all that Timothée wanted was for this man to stop grabbing into the deepest of depths that made up the surprisingly ultra ticklish cavern of flesh between his pecs, forearms and shoulders - if he tried to control the avalanche of endless, breathless cackles, would that put him off? If he tried to stop the grains of his shouts and the whines of his cries, would that turn him away?

That claw-like, fast paced grope then began to whizz and dart up and down his torso; it did the tango over his exposed rows of ribs, it waltzed across his hips and waist, it frollied over the tops of his buttocks, all whilst Timothée detonated into a shatter of shrieks and rampant bucking, “—Gimme a break man this isn’t cool!—”, he screamed, “—This fucking tickles man come on!—”, he fiercely proclaimed.

There was no stopping - the tickle torment continued, much to Timothée’s flabbergasted disbelief - this time over areas untouched by women, let alone men …

Before Timothée could even heave in to start to catch his breath, he felt the slit of his thong lift away from his butt hole with such aggressive exertion that the stitches in the fabric ripped but they did not tear, exposing his pert behind and his weighty balls, as well as the silky smooth flesh that made up the betweens of his thighs …

The largest gasp Timothée had ever created blew through his throat as soon as he felt the same persistent fingers that had exploited his underarms now venture across the open and entirely exposed inch or two that made up the tiny yet cataclysmically sensitive space of his taint.

“—Hey, NO!—”, each no sounded louder, “—NO!—”, each no sounded more urgent, “—NO!—”, each no sounded more uncertain, “—NO?—”, each ‘no’ catapulted from the depths of Timothée’s stomach and launched out of his mouth as if it were not allowed inside of him, the more his taint endured the merciless scribble of fingernails, whilst John’s free hand continued to lift up the stretch of thong, leaving Timothée tickled now more or less naked, his writhing, flexing and tauntly bound form now bare-ass up to the ceiling and under full exploration.

Timothée flung his head over his right shoulder, “—You gotta stop!—”, he whined out his laughter, where he then flung his head over his right shoulder, “—I, I can’t take it!—”, he acknowledged, his hips thrashing from side to side, his butt shaking and bouncing, his cheeks clapping together as his taint became a landscape for exploitation, the bed wobbling with such strength that it may as well have produced steam and taken off towards the moon, “—Stop, man, you’re freaking me out!—”, ahh there it is, we’re getting there, not long now …

Unlike others of his kind, John did not pause to give his lee a rest - instead, the only provided ‘break’ was a second or two between movement - one … two … See, it’s not very long, is it? - Timothée’s levels of ticklishness were abused once again, this time by a long, wet tongue, a set of pouty lips and a clean white row of ravenous teeth as those penetrating fingers tickled into the defined shape of Timothée’s hips and waist whilst John feasted on the betweens of his wide open, milky smooth thighs, causing Timothée’s spine to stiffen into a straight line and for his head to fling in various directions, as if wired by the most ferocious charge of power …

“—Gruhahahaha! Uh, uhahahaha, nnn, grr, grruuuuhuhuhahahahahaha oh, ohahahaha, ffff-uck, ffffff-uck, f—uck!—”, the strength of the tongue licked around the width of his taint, “—Sss, sssome, sssomeone! He, he, he’s tickling the sh, shh ohahahahahahahahahatta me!—”, his balls and cock were ignored, however they fell victim to dribble, his endless giggles now causing his own saliva to bubble at each corner of his lips as the thong became caught up around John’s nose, “—Sssecurity, ssss, ssss, sssecurity? Security!—”, he called out to the hotel room door for a safety team that had been paid off to no longer stand there, the fingers at his hips now scritching, scratching and stroking at one hundred and fifty miles per hour across his butt cheeks, an act that led him to fiercely announce, “—Okay I quit, I quit, fuck the Oscar!—”

… Unbeknownst to the Academy Award nominated actor, he had been reduced to pieces many times before, but it always took a while, mostly due to how determined and matured the young actor had grown within a world he had been tricked to forget …

However, within the heat of this hotel room, at exactly 1.34 in the afternoon, in this other world, it had taken John just two minutes and eight seconds to break Timothée Chalamet.