Crossroads Facility, entire series (*/F)

Prologue


It starts, as so many wonderful things do, with a bed. Lying on top of it is a woman, stripped to the skin and manacled in a spread-eagle pose. She is muscular, yet still curved where nature prefers, with deep green eyes and hair as red as the sunset. Her expression is one of defiance as she looks up at the only other occupant in the room. “What do you want, Seven?” she asked with contempt.

Seven of Nine was also bare, standing over her with a look of clinical examination. She was blond with blue eyes, one of which was surrounded by a strange metallic device. Similar devices marked her otherwise perfect skin across her voluptuous body. “Mara Jade,” she said in a strong, even tone. “We have determined that you will be an ideal subject in our examination of the human conditioning of tickling. You will comply.”

Mara growled up at her. “You don’t scare me.”

“Scaring is irrelevant,” Seven said as she climbed onto the bed and straddled Mara. “We are interested only in your physiological response.”

Mara sneered. “Do your worst.”

Seven held her hands out like claws over Mara’s armpits, and Mara stiffened in anticipation. “Tickling will now commence.” She dropped her fingers onto Mara’s armpits, and immediately the redhead burst into laughter. Seven wriggled her fingers about and Mara shook her head. “Initial prognosis correct. Subject is highly ticklish.”

“Stop It!” Mara pleaded as Seven’s fingers continued prodding all throughout her armpits. The Borg was absolutely merciless, scratching at the sensitive skin until Mara was practically hiccupping with laughter. “Nonononono!” Seven shifted into long strokes, starting at Mara’s bicep and running through her armpits down to her shoulder blades, wriggling just enough so that Mara was screaming. “Don’t! Hahahaha!!!”

“Your pleas are irrelevant,” Seven informed her, stroking again while Mara laughed.

“NO MORE!” Mara cried. “NOT THERE! PLEASE!” She let out a scream as Seven quickly dug her fingers into her ribcage.

“Tickle subject continues to demonstrate vulnerability,” Seven commented.

“Get off!” Mara shouted before laughter overwhelmed her. Seven was meticulous, moving up and down her ribcage rib by rib until Mara’s face was red with laughter. “WAHAHAHAHA! STOP!!” After a while, Seven settled on the lower ribs, no doubt deducing they were the most ticklish. She began digging her nails in, causing Mara to jump every time. “OH GOD! OH GOD! NOOOO-HOHOHOHO!!!” Tears stained her crimson face now and her eyes were screwed shut, and yet Seven didn’t waver in the slightest. The tickling remained as cruel and unemotional as it had from the beginning, despite how obvious it was Mara had been pushed past her limit. “I CAN’T STAND ANY MORE!” she cried. “PLEASE STOP! PLEEAAASSSEEE!!!” Her cries descended into more laughter.

Seven relented, and Mara was permitted a chance to catch her breath. “You are proving a most useful specimen, Mara Jade,” Seven commented. “You are clearly a highly-ticklish individual.” Mara growled at her. “I will ensure my superiors are made aware of your tickle-attributes, so that we can properly examine this phenomenon.” She turned around and straddled Mara the other way.

“What are you doing?” Mara demanded.

“If you need to be aware of something, I will inform you, otherwise be silent. It should be sufficient to know that your session is continuing, I am merely determining an optimal convenient target. Given your ticklish nature, there are so many possibilities... but I believe I will begin here.” Seven dug her fingers into Mara’s hips. Mara squealed and struggled as Seven seemed to feel about, searching. Finally there was a gasp from the helpless woman as Seven found the spot, and Mara roared with laughter. Seven carefully kneaded the spots on both hips while Mara writhed. “Yes, I thought so,” Seven mused aloud.

“Stop i-hehehe-t,” Mara said, too tired to even get air into her lungs, it just sort of slipped out with her laughter while Seven tickled away.

“Your repeated requests for premature termination are irrelevant,” Seven informed her, shifting her hands up to squeeze Mara’s flanks. “I will tickle you for the chosen duration; your protests change nothing.”

“Please, Seven,” Mara pleaded. “I’m too ticklish... I admit it... hahahaha! I’m a ticklish girl, okay?” She shook with laughter. “I can’t take any more!”

“I do not believe that is an accurate assessment,” Seven said, and her hands flew over Mara’s midsection. Mara shook her head back and forth with laughter. “Based on my extrapolations, I believe I could maintain this degree of tickling for eight hours plus or minus twenty minutes before you would succumb to physical side effects.” Mara screamed for mercy, but the Borg offered none, just more tickling.

After another ten minutes of torment, Seven gave Mara another breather. “I believe this session is proving a most valuable source of data,” she commented. After a minute or so Seven laid a finger between Mara’s legs. “The tickle subject has demonstrated undeniable sexual arousal. Beginning initiation of secondary tickle protocol.”

Mara moaned as Seven slowly rubbed, but it soon was punctuated by laughter as Seven’s other hand began squeezing her inner thighs. Seven went about her work like a Borg, with one hand stroking with a scientifically calculated regular frequency, and the other with a perfectly honed random generator to keep Mara off balance. Mara was letting out equal parts screams and groans as Seven’s hands danced over her inner thighs, squeezed her knees, dug in on her hips, or teased around her pubic area. Soon her moans became louder, and Seven’s tickling hand moved even more rapidly, but Mara’s face showed only pure ecstasy. “More,” she gasped. “By the Sith, tickle me and never stop!”

“Tickle subject is clearly indicating advanced stages of arousal.” Seven rubbed more rapidly and Mara arched her back, squealing with pleasure until she flopped down on the bed, panting in the wake of orgasm. “Climax achieved,” Seven said. She turned back around and faced Mara. “Do you wish to offer any comments on your experience?”

Mara laid back, panting heavily. “Oh God.... that was incredible.” She swallowed and took another breath. “Oh, I love you, Seven.”

Seven reached up to the shackles on Mara’s wrists. “I have similar affection for you as well,” she said in her even Borg tones.

“More,” Mara said. “C’mon. I’m already tied up.”

“No,” Seven said. “This has left me in a heightened state of arousal; I require sexual release.”

“Well, just do what I showed you.”

“I have,” Seven said. “And I have found such manipulation agreeable. However, it is a poor substitute; your touch is far more pleasurable. If you love me as you claim you do, then I ask that you provide it.”

“Your sweet-talking can use some improvement,” Mara said. “But okay, just leave the shackles on.” She explained, and Seven instead slid forward until she felt Mara’s lips on her womanhood. She closed her eyes and leaned back, breathing deeply, then began kneading her own breasts. A moan slipped out, then another, until finally she found release. “There,” Mara said as Seven slid off. “Was that good?”

“It was... wonderful,” Seven said, lying back on the bed next to Mara. “I remain in awe of the human body’s ability to present pleasure in its myriad ways.”

“I’m glad I could help, sweetie,” Mara said, doing her best to nuzzle up to Seven in her current position. “But there’s still the matter of me, you know?” she said with a grin.

“You will be silent, tickle subject Mara Jade,” Seven said sternly. “Your experiment will commence at the appropriate time, and it will be thorough and without mercy.”

“You don’t frighten me,” Mara said, trying very hard to keep the smile off her face. “I can cope with your experiments!”

“Coping is irrelevant. You will be tickled. Resistance is futile.”
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The video ended, and the board members turned to Ms. Sharon Danoob. “That’s it?” Mr. Clayton asked.

“It’s a promising start,” Ms. Danoob said.

“A promising start? We gave thirty-two billion dollars to fund this project, you come back with interdimensional lesbians?” He shook his head. “I am impressed... it is the single largest pornographic expenditure in world history.”

“It was not done for titillation, I assure you,” Ms. Danoob said. “Crossroads Facility will eventually provide you with wealth and power beyond your wildest dreams, ladies and gentlemen, but it will not happen overnight.”

“And it won’t happen if you spend your time grabbing ladies to play This Little Piggie with each other.”

Ms. Danoob shook her head. “I don’t think you realize what we have here, Mr. Clayton.” She pulled out a remote and activated it; a hologram of the redhead appeared. “Mara Jade, aka The Emperor’s Hand. Trained as a shadow assassin, she possesses limited precognitive abilities that serve as a kind of ‘danger sense.’ She is quick, adaptive, and deadly.” She hit the button, and the blond appeared. “Seven of Nine, aka Annika Hansen. Former Borg removed from the Collective, now operating as an independent individual. Cybernetically-enhanced, she possesses superhuman strength, reflexes, and intelligence.” The hologram vanished. “Imagine, Mr. Clayton, what kind of an asset these two could be.”

“Yes,” Mr. Clayton said. “And that would be interesting if they were doing more than frolicking around naked.”

Ms. Danoob shook her head. “Both are fiercely independent,” she explained. “Mara, because she is accustomed to autonomy; Seven, because of her former slave existence as a drone. There is no way you can persuade or threaten them into working for us.” She smiled. “But they can be coerced. Because there is one thing they both fear to lose.”

“And what’s that?” Mr. Clayton asked impatiently.

Ms. Danoob grinned. “Each other.” She pulled out the remote. “That’s why this is the breakthrough, Mr. Clayton. Because they will work for us voluntarily if it means they can remain together. And this is only the beginning.” A new woman appeared, tall and muscular, but very buxom, with a long braided ponytail. "Professor Lara Croft. Survivalist, acrobatics, strong deductive reasoning skills. She's skilled in just about any weapon you can put in her hand, and can function in practically any environment you can imagine." She vanished, and a blond with a short haircut, dressed in a gray military uniform of some kind, appeared. "Lt. Kara Thrace, aka Starbuck. Top-notch fighter pilot and highly skilled sniper. Her creative problem solving approach has led to victory in spite of heavy disadvantages in both infantry and starship combat." The hologram vanished. “These two are already being prepped as well, and in time the number will grow. And with a force like this, no one will be able to resist. Believe me, ladies and gentlemen, everything I’ve promised you will come true.”

Mr. Clayton considered this. “How does this program of yours work, Ms. Danoob?”

Ms. Danoob gave him a single nod of acknowledgment. “Excellent question. Let me show you.”

Part 1


“Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. Proceed to Secondary Chamber, Grid Nine Two of Subjunction Twelve.”

Seven of Nine stepped out of her alcove and walked through the Cube. Her steps were slow, but deliberate, the mechanical march precisely calculated as was only fitting for her, a Borg. She passed others, but it was irrelevant; they had their duties, and she had hers. The door opened on her approach, and promptly closed, sealing her inside alone, or at least, as alone as anyone could possibly be within the Borg Collective. With precise movements she kneeled on the platform before her, her knees perfectly fitting into the grooved slots, locking into position. She held her arms straight up, inserting her hands into the openings above. They sealed around her wrists and both parts rose a meter up, the kneeling platform splitting. This had the effect of spreading her legs open as well as stretching her body out.

“Auditory test,” the Collective said.

“Auditory test confirmation,” Seven said back.

“Auditory test complete. Proceeding.”

Seven gasped. “My connection to the Collective Consciousness has been severed,” she stated.

A cable descended from the ceiling behind her and entered her left shoulder blade. Her exoplating immediately changed. It started on her arms, the material disconnected at her shoulder and slid up, collapsing like a telescope until it reached the elbows. Along the sides of her chest, two centimeter-wide strips lifted off and slid around her back. The curves on her chest irised open revealing a thin protective layer underneath which slid back, exposing her massive breasts. There was a zip as a hidden panel slid aside to show her navel. A powerful hiss, and the bottom of her suit split at the crotch, the back swinging around and up to the small of her back revealing her round buttocks, while the front slid up into the suit. The bottoms of her boots opened and slid into the sides. She swallowed; there was no fear, of course, because that would be an indication of self-concern, and she was here for the purpose of her Collective. However, it was difficult not to feel some kind of... apprehension at the session.

There was a sound like someone sliding a concrete slab, and two pipes dropped down, stopping at an even height with her exposed armpits. Two thick camelhair brushes emerged on probes and without any warning began stroking her underarms. Seven grimaced as they moved, then began tittering. They worked in concert at first, perfect synchronicity, with their long slow movements the got Seven to snicker and try to pull her arms down. They made little circular motions in her armpits and she chuckled and shook a little. Then they began following more randomized patterns, and Seven found herself laughing a little more at the touch. Soon they were fully exploring the area and she was roaring; her underarms were obviously one of her worst tickle spots, and she had to struggle to avoid screaming for the Collective to terminate the experiment. It was very hard though, because this was only the beginning, and it only reminded her how vulnerable she was to tickling.

Seven stopped and swallowed as the brushes were removed and snaked back into the pipes. Now two clawed probes emerged; this was the more trying. She braced herself and they began digging into her armpits, and immediately she began laughing. They poked and prodded all around the sensitive hollows, massaging here and stroking there until Seven’s eye was squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to endure. She laughed much harder now as the worked, squeezing the surrounding exposed areas and teasing her skin until she began pulling hard at her restraints. But there was no chance that even Borg-enhanced strength could free her. She was left with no choice but to let them tickle her armpits while she laughed her Borg head off.

Eventually the probe withdrew as well, and Seven took a few seconds to catch her breath while the pipes rotated inward. Again the brushes emerged, but this time they began teasing her gray and white nipples. She giggled and squirmed at the touch; despite being Borg they were nevertheless still tied into the nervous system of her biological distinctiveness, which meant that they quickly grew erect at the gentle touches. After several minutes the probes emerged as well and began squeezing her breasts, and the giggles soon became deep belly laughs. Her ample glands offered more than enough room for them to explore her ticklishness to the fullest, and soon tears ran from her eye as she was overwhelmed by the sensations. Neural examination by the Borg had indicated her body was highly-sensitive to tickling, hence her involvement in this research, but it still was unexpected how truly vulnerable she could be to such sensations. She was Borg, and yet she was still reduced to a laughing, leaking blob just by the proper stimulation of tissue she had no practical use for in the first place!

But there was nothing Seven could do; tickling must be understood, and she was the most promising subject, though the repeated data inconsistencies were troubling. Accurate data would ensure these sessions stopped, and many times as they tickled her body she strongly wished they would. Yet other times, as in this moment, even though the sensations were overwhelming she found herself enjoying them. It was terrible and wonderful all at once - paradox! Clearly tickling was introducing some kind of malfunction into her cognitive processes because her mind was interpreting the same data in different ways. Part of her wanted to shrink away, part of her was trying to arch her back so the probes could more easily knead her breasts. But all the while regardless she laughed without control.

After some time the probes and feathers finally withdrew, and Seven gasped for air. The pipes remained, however; something else was going to happen. There was a rumble and a sound of hydraulics as the floor opened and a box-like device emerged. It stopped centimeters away from the back of Seven’s feet, then beams shot out, one for each toe. Seven couldn’t budge them at all, and the stretched her foot out taut. Then a red beam shot out, one for each foot, spread across the entire width just at the point where the toes connected. Seven giggled but they quickly escalated into full laughter as they slid up her foot, reaching the heel and reversing direction. Seven struggled, but her toes were completely immobile, and she roared as the beams hit the center of her sole, then split and headed in opposite directions. Now with twice the tickling she struggled feebly to free her legs, but they were thoroughly locked into place. After five minutes of this, the beams cut out, but she knew what was happening now. A kind of topographical map was now imprinted over the bottoms of her feet, but instead of measure landforms it measure tickle targets. Beams were now fired into the five highest spots on each foot and moved within them on precisely calculated courses while Seven screamed and shook her bonds. She pleaded for it to stop, but pleas were irrelevant; she was clearly only reacting out of emotion rather than clinical assessment. The beams continued tickling Seven’s feet until she didn’t even have the strength to laugh. Finally it ended, and the device closed and sunk back into the floor.

The pipes rotated back around Seven’s body and lowered again. She steeled herself; like the foot tickles, not being able to see it coming made this even more intense. She heard the sound of the probes slithering out, and then it began. She danced as they pinched her cheeks, swinging her upper body around and shifting her legs. She chortled at the prods on her delicate behind, still amazed after all this time how a part of the body designed for sitting could possibly have so many nerve endings. Given the fact that the Borg never sit, it had virtually no contact of any kind except for these sessions, and as always the tickling was intense.

Seven breathed heavily as the probes finally stopped; this was the hard part. This was the part she always dreaded. The ceiling opened and a clawed device emerged in front of her. Her body was pulled completely taut now, and she was helpless as she watched it close in. The claws slid into the gaps in the chest of her exoplating, and Seven stiffened. And then they struck, and she screamed. Her ribs were horribly ticklish, and the machine attacked several of them all at once, all over. “OH HAHAHAHA!! OH STOP NO NO NO HAHAHA!!! STOP THI-HISHEHEHE PLEASE! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” But naturally the Borg weren’t going to stop the experiment at her request, so she just stayed there, trembling and screaming while they tickled her ribs with analytical precision, and if her bladder were still functional, she knew she’d have lost control of it by now. It was completely overwhelming, and Seven, Borg though she was, begged them to stop.

When they did, she gasped with relief at the respite. After that it was always easier. A new pipe emerged now, extending down in front of Seven and stopping at abdominal height. Fine tendrils slid out the end and slipped through the opening, spreading out on the other side. Seven squirmed and laughed as they stroked and prodded her tummy behind her exoplating. A brush emerged and began working about inside her navel, and her laughs got deeper. After all the tickling it was getting to be too much, and she simply hung there, unable to stop laughing at the sensations. Her flat stomach felt like it was being strummed like a guitar by the dozens of little tendrils, and the wriggling in her bellybutton was impossible to resist. But surprisingly, it was getting easier again to endure it... to enjoy it.

Eventually this ended and the tendrils slipped back out again, and the pipe lowered further. With extreme care they fully exposed Seven’s womanhood, and the fine-tipped brushes now went to work. Seven giggled and squirmed as they stroked about there, paying special attention to her clitoris. After a couple minutes the other pipes got back to work, first stroking her nipples, then squeezing her buttocks. Seven squealed and squirmed at the tickling but as it went on her stomach seemed to compress into a softball-sized ball of warm happiness. She chuckled and shook and moaned as they continued tickling her until the ball expanded more and more until finally it seemed to explode and spray the contained pleasure all throughout her body. Seven let out a cry of pleasure, and the machines immediately stopped her teasing.

Seven hung there limply as the exoplating closed back up again. The machinery returned to its hiding place, while Seven gasped in the wake of what had happened. “Assessment?” the Collective asked.

Seven coughed. “Stimulation produced discomfort and pleasure.”

“Elaborate.”

“Tickling was an unpleasant sensation,” Seven said, “yet it also was highly pleasurable.”

“Contradictory.”

“But nevertheless true.”

“Improbable. Data cannot be reconciled logically and must be discarded. Session Two Five Five Five will commence tomorrow.” Seven was released from the device. So, that made two thousand five hundred fifty-four sessions with discarded data. Truly this concept was proving most elusive. But then she was reabsorbed into the Collective Consciousness, and dwelled on it no further.
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Ms. Danoob looked at the readings, then down at the unconscious woman. Seven looked perfectly normal, of course, though the readings indicated that in her mind she looked her old Borg self. Good, it would help give the illusions some context to gain root in her memories. Ms. Danoob looked further along the row at the other three women and nodded. Everything was going perfectly.

Part 2


Starbuck didn’t know which was worse, the fact that this had been an incredibly shitty day, or the fact that despite that it still didn’t make the top ten list of shitty days she’d had. With the Cylon attack wiping out almost all of humanity and the skin of their teeth efforts to stay alive, every day presented its own challenge. This wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t one of her better ones.

She’d come back to Caprica to help any resisting humans left on the world find a way off the planet. Unfortunately, she stumbled right into a Cylon trap and got tranqued, and that was in some ways worse than actually being killed. The Cylons ran “farms” where they were trying to get human women to breed human-Cylon hybrids. Starbuck had narrowly escaped being one of the unlucky mothers, but when she awoke bound in a Cylon dungeon she had the unpleasant feeling she’d only delayed that fate.

The door opened and two Centurions appeared; overkill, as per standard Cylon protocol; even if her hands weren’t bound Starbuck couldn’t resist one of the frackers, nevermind two. Still, Kara Thrace was a fighter through and through, and she kicked hard at the toasters as they came to grab her, but she might as well have been blowing kisses. Each grabbed an arm near the shoulder, picked her up, and hauled her out into the hall. She struggled feebly, but it did nothing to slow them down.

The next few minutes were a blur. She was in a room now, naked, and not in a situation that offered a lot of optimism. She was laying down on a padded surface, her wrists locked together and bound up over her head. The end had a pair of padded bars coming off at a right angle, then bending again at the knee, with her legs strapped securely to them and at an open angle. She couldn’t move an inch and she was exposed to the world. If the Cylons wanted to do anything to farm her, they had perfect access and she had no way to stop them.

“Are you comfortable?” Starbuck looked up; it was the blond Cylon, one of the human-like ones, Number Six.

“Do I look fracking comfortable?” Starbuck shot back.

Number Six offered one of her bemused smiles. “I’m afraid I’m no good at recognizing human sarcasm,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable, I apologize; we are pushing into new territory and had to make do with the restraints we had available.”

“Yeah, save your apologies, bitch,” Starbuck said. “What’s it going to be, the cold Cylon mechanoid way, or just good-old fashioned rape?”

“Oh, Kara,” Number Six said soothingly, “we would never do that to you. Is that why you think you’re here?” She shook her head. “We just want to understand you, that’s all.”

“Did you ever think of maybe talking?” Starbuck asked. She shook her head with her usual contempt for reality. “Naw... much more efficient to just dissect what it is you want to understand.”

“Kara, don’t worry,” Number Six said. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to understand. We’re made in your image, you see, but some things we’ve found elude us. We want to find them. Perhaps then, if we do, we’ll understand each other better... perhaps the war can end.”

“Yeah, you Cylons have shown how interested in coexistence you are,” Starbuck said. “Frack off.”

“Whether you believe or not, Kara, is of no concern,” Number Six said. “I just wanted to offer you some reassurance, but if you wish to simply reject it and embrace your despair that’s entirely up to you. Regardless, we have work we must attend to.” Boomer, or at least, a copy of the Cylon who posed as Boomer, appeared at Number Six’s side. “We have heard about a human condition known as ‘tickling.’ We wish to understand it.”

Starbuck wore the expression that had won her many a card game, but her stomach did flip-flops. They wouldn’t, would they? The two Cylons approached. They would, she thought nervously. “So you’re planning on tickling me, is that it?”

“Yes,” Number Six said. “It’s a mystery to us how this mechanism works.”

Starbuck swallowed. “You do know that most humans find it practically torture.”

“Are you one of those humans?”

Starbuck hesitated. “Yes.”

“Then you would make an ideal test subject,” Number Six said.

“Mother-fracker!” Starbuck shouted, yanking at her bonds. Being captured was one thing, even being tortured wasn’t outside of expectations, but this would be absolutely humiliating! If anyone back on Galactica heard about this, she’d never, ever, live it down.

Six and Boomer went to the other end and each grabbed a foot, running their nails over her soles. There wasn’t even a chance for Starbuck to resist, she immediately descended into a giggle fit, wriggling her feet about in a futile effort at escape. The Cylons began scratching across her feet, forcing her to scrunch them up to try and fight back. The grabbed her toes and stretched the foot back out with ease, and the giggles turned into real laughter. “Get away from my feet, you stupid toasters!” she cried before descending into a laughing fit.

“So curious,” Boomer mused as she ran her fingernails with devastating effect over the foot. “They react simultaneously with sounds of enjoyment and distress.”

“Laughter mixed with protests,” Six agreed while she worked the base of the toes, resulting in more laughter and some of Starbuck’s saucier words. “It is part of the reason we are studying the phenomenon so carefully.”

Boomer nodded and applied the nails of both hands to the job. Starbuck protested, her head shaking wildly. “It is most perplexing. How much data will we need?”

Six stuck a finger between Starbuck’s toes and wriggled it about. “I foresee this being a very long and involved project,” she said as Starbuck laughed wildly.

After a little while, Six left and Boomer took over tickling both feet, scratching along Starbuck’s soles with disregard for her torment. Six walked down to the other end, sat on Starbuck’s outstretched arms, and looked down into her pink face. “Truly amazing,” she commented, and then without further remarks or even time for Starbuck to consider, she dropped two sets of wriggling fingers into her armpits. Starbuck sputtered and howled as she worked. “I am uncertain if we’ll ever have enough data to understand this.”

“OH GODS!” Starbuck wailed. “STOP! STOP PLEASE! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” Six pressed onward, her fingers digging into the tender flesh. “I CAN’T STAND IT!!!” she screamed before descending into a crazed laughing fit. She’d never been tickled for any length of time, and it was obvious that she must be a lot more ticklish than she’d ever thought, because she would do anything to make them stop! If they wanted the codes to Galactica, they’d have ‘em. If they wanted the location of Earth, theirs. If they wanted every secret thought and sinful desire, everything Starbuck considered so private she’d never told another living soul, she’d spill it and not hold back one iota if only they’d stop this relentless tickle torture.

“Hmm, she’s changing color,” Six observed as Starbuck’s face turned crimson. She never stopped in the slightest, as if the wiggling fingers were operating of their own accord.

“Unexpected,” Boomer remarked, changing her own tickle tactics now that she’d observed which touches got the better reactions out of her prisoner. “Perhaps increasing intensity will cause further transformations.”

“NO!” Starbuck shrieked.

“I think it’s only reasonable to test this hypothesis,” Six remarked to Starbuck, and she began moving his fingers even more rapidly in Starbuck’s armpits, and running all along the exposed area until they poor girl’s face was contorted with laughter. Her eyes were screwed shut, her mouth strained open, her cheeks shining red as apples as tears slid along them. She didn’t even have the control to say anything, all she could do was laugh endlessly as her feet and underarms experienced tickling worse than she could have ever imagined.

The tickling on her feet stopped, but Starbuck looked down and saw it wasn’t because of mercy -which would have been an unexpected turn considering it was the toasters tickling the piss out of her- but rather to move on to new territory. Boomer stepped in between Starbuck’s legs and began running her fingernails up her inner thighs, causing the poor lieutenant to shriek. After two passes Boomer began lightly pinching here and there, causing spasms as Starbuck trained vainly to resist. Of course she couldn’t; each pinch resulted in a yelp of laughter. “GET OUT OF THERE YOU BITCH! BWAHAHAHA-HEHEHE!!!”

“Most illogical,” Six commented with a shake of her head. She continued to explore Starbuck’s armpits, but was making a few subtle changes here and there. Sometimes she reach up and dig all her fingers into Kara’s ribcage, causing her to wail and arch her back, only to just as quickly go back to the underarms. Sometimes she’d reach forward and gently flick back and forth across her pink nipples until she was sputtering, and then back to the armpits. Sometimes she’d just jam two fingers into Starbuck somewhere and watch her reaction. Of course, it was always the same, a scream of laughter at the horrible touch.

Starbuck decided to live up to her callsign and began bucking furiously in an attempt to do something -anything- to resist this torture. Naturally, Six wasn’t the least bit bothered by this, and continued her warped exploration of Kara’s upper body. “GET THE FRAK OFF ME-HEHEHEHE!!!” she wailed, bouncing wildly. Boomer finally stopped tickling her thighs; instead with her superior Cylon strength she put both hands on Starbuck’s stomach and held her down. Once she was firmly in place, hands never letting up, she began massaging the smooth belly, and Starbuck’s laughter took on a deep, stuttered quality. “No no no no get away! Hohohohohahaha!!!!”

“Do you like this, Kara?” Six asked. It was a kind voice, not one you’d expect from someone tickling a helpless girl out of her mind. “Do you like this?”

“HAHAHA NO!!!” She was so pushed beyond her limits she didn’t even have it in her for a smartass remark. She wanted it to end, and she would kiss the ass of anyone who’d do it.

Six nodded. “Activate,” she said. And suddenly, pleasure was washing through Starbuck’s body... incredible, warm feathery pleasure. It came from her armpits and tummy... it made her laugh and squirm and shake and feel oh so wonderful. She laughed, deeply and fully, teary-eyed, and she wanted nothing more than to keep on laughing, to keep this... this incredible tickling going forever and ever. “Do you like this, Kara?” Six asked.

“Yes,” Starbuck said. “Hahahaha oh gods yes! More!”

“See,” Boomer remarked, “it makes no sense.” She left Starbuck’s stomach and went back to her thighs, and even though Kara was squealing at the touches, the bucking had stopped.

“We will understand this in time,” Six assured her. “And Kara will help us, won’t you Kara?” She tickled Starbuck’s nipples, then went back to her armpits. “You’ll help us understand it all.”

“Yes!” Starbuck screamed, then closed her eyes and basked in the laughter.
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Ms. Danoob examined the readout over Starbuck’s head. She’d worried using the Cylons might taint the memories, but any other scenario increased the likelihood of the memories being rejected outright. Fortunately she too seemed to accept the idea of pleasure in tickling. It was going to be a strong element to success in her development... which would lead to far greater success as part of the project. “Soon, lieutenant,” she said to the unconscious woman, “you’ll see what you can become.”

Part 3


Lady Lara Croft was led into the center of the Shadow Society with her hands bound behind her back. Armed guards surrounded her just to be safe, and they were wise to do so. She’d been in worse scrapes than this and come out on top, and she had every confidence this would prove the same. “Countess,” the Shadow Elite said when she was brought forward. “You should have heeded our warnings.”

“Likewise,” Lara shot back.

The Shadow Elite chuckled. “Bravado... it never ends with you, does it. Still, we’ll see how well your hardened façade holds up under our ministrations.”

“I like a good challenge,” Lara said flatly.

The Shadow Elite grinned evilly. “As do we.” He got up off his throne and began walking as he spoke. “My agents tell me that you’ve been looking for the fabled Tomb of Alexander.”

“I look for many things,” Lara said, which was true. It just so happened that she had been looking for the Tomb for some time now. After all, tombs, and the raiding thereof, were her specialty.

“So you are looking for it, countess?” Lara watched him, trying to hide her bemusement. These secret society idiots were all the same, it was like they all attended the same school of maximum pompousness and idiocy somewhere. He thought he was being oh so clever, when all he was doing was giving her time, and time was always on the side of Lara Croft. When you ran an operation of one, it was essential to plan for all possible contingencies, to make preparations for problems. The more time this secret handshake-wielding moron spent jawing, the sooner it would be before she’d be out of here and on her way to cracking the Tomb of Alexander wide open.

“Like I said, I look for many things,” Lara said. “That’s like asking me if I buy carrots; yes, it’s true, but it’s not as if it has my full attention.”

“Well, I hope that I now have your full attention,” the Shadow Elite grinned. Lara sighed inwardly. You’re almost making it too easy. “Where is the sixth segment to the mapkey?”

“I don’t know,” Lara said truthfully. It was on her to-do list with finding a portable hovercraft and a stone replica of a griffin feather.

“Now why don’t I believe you?” the Shadow Elite mused aloud.

“Because you’re too bloody stupid to find it yourself,” Lara said plainly, “so you are feverishly hoping I’ve done the legwork for you. Pity for you I haven’t.”

“Save your pity for yourself, countess,” he declared, and Lara endeavored not to roll her eyes. “We’ll see if the flowing sands of time can wear down the walls of your resolve.”

“Mixed metaphors?” Lara said with a tone of pity. “Truly the last refuge of an incompetent. How much are you paying these rubes to listen while you prance about acting like some wise sage? Probably enough to hire an actual team of real explorers, if you had an ounce of sense. Of course, it’s only too obvious that if you ever had an original thought, it died of loneliness.”

The comment succeeded in wiping the smirk off the Shadow Elite’s face. “Put her on the rack,” he commanded, and the guards led her from the room. Lara didn’t resist; she’d been in these situations often enough to know to save her strength.

A few minutes later she laid naked on a cold metallic table, her wrists and ankles bound in manacles. An albino woman approached, dressed all in black. “A challenge,” she mused as she looked Lara over. “I’ve been hoping for this opportunity... I’ve been reading up on your history.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Lara said evenly.

“It doesn’t matter,” the albino said. “I’m only interested in breaking you. It’s only too obvious that you have a high pain tolerance... clearly something unorthodox is called for.” She looked Lara up and down, then back into her eyes. “Tell me... you wouldn’t happen to be... ticklish, would you?” Lara said nothing, but inside she quivered. She had spent some time conditioning herself to resist pain, but this was something she’d never thought of. With a smile the albino began spinning the handle and slowly Lara felt her arms and legs being pulled taut until her entire body was stretched out and she couldn’t move. She tried to control her trembling but it was difficult.

“Now,” the albino mused, “where should I begin?” She held her long fingers over Lara’s face and wriggled them, and fear gripped her. She continued to wriggle them in the air, then pounced on Lara’s ribs. Instantly Lara exploded with laughter. “Oh gooood,” the albino muttered as she squeezed the helpless ribs, each touch more torturous than the last. “I do so love a good tickling... I haven’t had a chance to do one in ages.” She strummed the ribs like a harp and Lara shrieked with laughter. “I may not even bother asking any questions.”

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Lara shouted desperately. “HAHAHAHA PLEASE!!!”

“Oh, I so hope you’re telling the truth,” the albino said. “That means I’ll get to have so much fun with you.” She played with the ribs more while Lara laughed desperately. “And there’s so much to choose from.” She worked the ribcage over for a while, leaving Lara with nothing to do but lie there and take it. “Of course, the problem is that it’s so hard to get to your ribs,” she mused. “You have such large breasts.” She grabbed them with a practiced hand, and Lara’s eyes bugged out, then she roared. “Of course, I see they have their own advantages.”

“NOT THERE! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” Lara screamed as the albino’s fingers danced over the undersides of her breasts, then up around the sides a bit. Of course she’d known they were sensitive -she had a pretty healthy sex life, after all- but she had no idea how horribly ticklish they were until this terrible moment.

“Oo, now this is something I rarely get to play with,” the albino mused, tickle-massaging Lara’s breasts until she was shaking with laughter. “And they’re real too... I owe Mr. Bankroff twenty dollars.” She began attacking the breasts even more furiously. “I’ll be taking that much out of your hide, I’m afraid.”

“OH NONONONOHAHAHAHA STOOOP ITTT!!!” Lara pleaded, tears streaming down her face. Every touch was worse than the last, every prod and squeeze, ever stroke and pinch, just tickling her sensitive glands until she swore the albino must have had at least four hands at work. “No more!” she said desperately, starting to run out of air. “...plea-hehehehe-se...” She laid back, body trembling because she didn’t even have the energy to laugh any more. “Not on my boobs... ha ha ha ha.... anywhere...” A new bit of strength hit, and she shook madly to try and escape, but she didn’t have even an inch to budge, and the tickling never abated.

“You have no idea where the sixth segment is do you,” the albino said as she began rolling Lara’s large pink nipples between her white fingers. “Absolutely no clue, right?”

Lara shook her head. “I don’t know!” she wailed.

The albino nodded her head. “Yes, I can tell. I can always tell when someone has passed the breaking point. You’d tell me if you could, yes?”

“Yes!” Lara cried, shaking with laughter. “Please stop!”

“That’s such a pity,” the albino said. “Unfortunately for you, I’m a sadist.” Her rubs took on a new quality that caused Lara to begin shrieking. “It’s part of the job description, you might say. Your cries of laughter, your pleas, they’re music to my ears. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t waste my time asking you questions when I can concentrate on savoring your agony.”

“OH GOD OH NO OH STOP PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHA NONONONO-NO!” Lara began banging the back of her head against the rack in a futile attempt at a distraction, but it did little. The tickling had gone beyond a mere tactile sensation and had become an invasive force in her body, as if it could lay its eggs somewhere and let them hatch into little tickle broods elsewhere. Lara’s entire body tingled, as if she could now sense every single fine hair in her skin. It was there, it was coming together, like random patterns of evaporated water pushing together will form the shape of a face, the tickling sensations were coming together and producing waves and troughs, with deep agony and escalating pleasure. And even though Lara never stopped crying and wishing it would stop, there was a part of her that was enjoying -no, reveling- in the sensation that emerged. It was the ultimate tomb raid, passing through the depths of Dante’s hell, only to slip through purgatory and enter heaven itself.

And then the albino dug her hands into Lara’s armpits, and the spell broke. It just tickled again, horrible maddening tickling! Lara screamed at her, but the albino just smiled. “You think I can’t read you like a book, my dear?” She made a clicking sound of disappointment. “I’m not here to introduce you to the garden of delights, I’m just here to see how far I can tickle you until you go mad or pass out. Perhaps I’ll take bets.”

“Leave me alone!” Lara wailed before descending into another laughing fit. The fingers danced across her outstretched armpits like a tiny chorus line, teasing and stroking her smooth flesh. “Sto-hahahaha-p!!!” The albino’s nails started digging in, and Lara whooped and screamed at the touch. “HAHAHAHA NO HAHAHA MORE HEHEHEHE TICKLING!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Oh, that’s not the way you’re supposed to do it,” the albino said as she tickled Lara’s underarms. “You’re supposed to beg, not demand.” She began tickling more furiously. “Beg me.”

“Please!” Lara cried. “PLEASE! NO MORE! PLEASE NO MORE!!!”

“That’s more like it,” the albino said, although the tickling didn’t relent. “You’re getting the idea, but put some heart into it.”

“Please don’t tickle me,” Lara said, shaking in ticklish agony. “Please, ma’am, please no more tickling! Mercy! Mercy-hehehe!!!”

The albino stopped for the moment. “Now that was good,” she remarked as Lara gasped for air with her first real break since the ordeal began. “Hearing the great Lara Croft begging me is the kind of reason I get up and sharpen the knives every morning.” She walked down the edge of the rack, trailing a finger down Lara’s body as she did so. “You are very appetizing, Ms. Croft. I’m so glad you can’t end this session on me.” She reached out and began scratching the soles of Lara’s feet. “We’ll have so much fun together.”

“NO PLEASE NOT MY FEET!” Lara begged before descending into a hysterical fit.

“That’s very good begging,” the albino said. “But I can’t relent every time now can I? Otherwise it takes away all the fun.” And she began feverishly tickling the bottoms of Lara’s feet, until Lara was trembling with ticklish laughter. “And fun is all that’s left, since you can’t actually answer my questions.”

But as the albino worked over Lara’s feet the sensations came together again. Lara laid back, squealing and screeching and wishing the tickling would end, but at the same time pleasure was working its way up her body. She fought and jerked as she felt it swelling inside her, until the moment came and she let it out in a shriek of orgasmic delight. The albino stopped and looked up at her, clearly not happy with what just happened. “I’m extending your visit by two hours for that little incident,” she said darkly. Lara tried to protest, but it quickly descended into another laughing fit. “You’re hear for my pleasure, not yours.”
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Danoob looked at the readings. Croft was going to be the challenging one, but it looked like the memories were being accepted for the most part. Such a violent woman, even by comparison to the other three... if she rejected her role, she could prove very dangerous. Ms. Danoob made a note to have her held for longer processing, just to be safe. A little extra tickling for her would go a long way. She thought. Then a lot of extra tickling would probably go further, she noted, and increased it further.

Part 4


Mara Jade’s eyes fluttered open, and she was not happy with what she saw. She was floating in the center of a large spherical room, and she’d been stripped. What the hell had happened?!

The Emperor... that was it. The Emperor died, and she’d felt it through the Force, and she lost consciousness. But why was she here? “Morning Mara,” came a voice over the comm.

Oh great, Mara thought. Ysanne Isard, the woman who ran the ISB, and one of the few who actually knew that Mara was more than just one of the Emperor’s flunkies, but was a skilled agent and assassin. The two never got along, but it hadn’t mattered because Mara answered to the Emperor himself, so Isard could never touch her. With him gone... Mara was so screwed. “Morning, Iceheart,” she said, using her despised nickname. Mara tugged at the bonds that had been wrapped around her wrists and ankles, but it was hopeless. They were electronically locked, made of duranium, and attached to cables that snaked away towards four different points around the room. She had an inkling of what she was in for, and Isard was going to be ruthless no matter what she said or did.

“My people found you and thought it prudent that we look after you,” Isard explained. “It would be a shame if something happened to you before you had the chance to tell me everything you know about what’s happened.”

“A real shame,” Mara said. Isard you silly bitch, she thought, why do you play these games? You’re not an evil mastermind, just some spoiled brat who lucked into a position of authority..

“I wasn’t too certain you would be forthcoming to a simple debriefing-“

“Seems you opted for it anyway,” Mara commented, looking at her naked form.

“You think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Isard said.

“Maybe you just don’t have a sense of humor,” Mara said.

“Oh, I do,” Isard said. She was quiet for a while. “I think I’ll prove it to you. I can be quite amusing sometimes.”

“I’m ready, throw your best knock-knock joke at me,” Mara said.

“I had an interrogation scheduled,” Isard pushed on. “I think I’ll change the nature of it, in keeping with this subject. I assure you you’ll be laughing your head off.” The cables suddenly went taut, and Mara’s limb’s were stretched out, leaving her spread-eagle in the middle of the air. “Tell me, Mara, are you... ticklish?”

Mara blinked. “What?”

“Ticklish. You know, as in ‘cootchie cootchie coo?’”

“Is that your big plan?” Mara asked. “I’ve got to say, I thought even you wouldn’t reduce yourself to something that amazingly stupid. Thank you for proving to me that my low standards clearly aren’t low enough.”

“Oh Mara,” Isard said. “You make this so easy. This arrogant girl who fucked her way into what little power she had-“

“I did nothing of the kind!” Mara said with anger.

“Oh please; why do you think we all called you ‘the Emperor’s hand.’” Mara bristled. “I always like seeing people like you getting knocked down to where they belong. The sight of you, writhing like a little girl, will bring me and my colleagues no end of amusement.”

“Please,” Mara said with contempt. “I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman whose neurochemistry scans indicates is extremely ticklish,” Isard said. “But if you don’t agree with medical science, well, then I guess you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”

A red beam emerged across the room in front of Mara, shifted back and forth, then slowly ran up onto her body, stopped over her belly-button. There was a pulse and the red beam turned pink, and Mara gasped. Tickling was something she really only knew about in an abstract sense; if she’d ever been tickled, it was so long ago she didn’t remember it. But clearly, despite what she’d thought, it wasn’t something that was grown out of, or at least, something that she’d grown out of. She ground her teeth together and screwed her eyes shut, the sensation demanding her total will to resist.

“What’s wrong, Mara?” Isard asked. “Does it... tickle?”

There was a hum and the beam pulsed, and the air emptied from Mara’s lungs. “NO!” she managed to get out, but it quickly was followed by laughter, deep laughter.

“I think it does,” Isard mused while Mara laughed. “And we’ve barely started. This should be loads of fun. Of course, you could just beg me... if you’re convincing, I might spare you this humiliation.”

Mara laughed but inside she was panicking. If this was just a taste, she’d never endure what was going to come. But begging Isard would accomplish nothing. The woman was a sadist; she’d torture Mara anyway. There was no sense in giving her the satisfaction.

“Very well,” Isard said eventually, and a second red beam appeared, snaking up Mara’s torso. Mara watched it while she chuckled, fear gripping her. It finally stopped over the nipple of her left breast, then the beam turned pink. Mara’s laughter intensified, then again as another beam found a similar target on her right breast. “Oh yes... this is going to be so much fun.”

Mara shook with laughter, but out of the corner of her eye she saw another light come on and settle into her left armpit. It turned pink, and she roared. “NO! DON’T! WAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Oo, sensitive underarms, eh?” Isard asked. “Well, we’ll have to explore that.”

More lights came on, shining onto both or Mara’s armpits. They began slowly snaking around and Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “PLEASE! HAHAHA! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT AW-HAHAHAHAHA...”

“Cootchie cootchie coo, Mara,” Isard said. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Mara wailed. “Turn it off!”

“You’re a ticklish little girl,” Isard said. “Say it.”

“I’m ticklish,” Mara admitted, shaking with laughter.

“That’s not what I said, Mara,” Isard said, and the beams pulsed and Mara screamed with laughter.

“I’M A TICKLISH LITTLE GIRL!” Mara cried.

“Now that’s better,” Isard said, and the tickling became slightly less intense. “I’m not a monster, Mara,” she said, even as Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “I just need you to stop fighting me on this.”

“Hahahaha I will!” Mara promised. She couldn’t stand any more!

“That’s good to hear,” Isard said. “Who’s in control?”

“You- hahahaha you are!”

“That’s right... and what are you again?”

“I’m a-ha ha ha ticklish little g-girl,” Mara managed to get out.

“Now,” Isard said, “tell me exactly what happened to the Emperor.”

“Please stop it!” Mara pleaded. “Please!”

“I asked you a question,” Isard said irritably. “Did you forget who was in control?”

Mara saw lights coming on around the room. “Oh no! No please, no! Do-WO-HOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA!!!!” The pink lights shined all over her body, on her feet on her butt, on the back of her knees, on her ribs, on her back. Mara screamed with laughter. Her body struggled feebly, the tickling sapping her strength. Her world shrank, to become nothing but the core of who she was, which was trapped at the center of a vortex of laughing madness. This tickling was worse than anything she could have imagined, and it was merciless, and omnipresent, and sadistic. It slipped into places and chipped away at her sanity. “STOP IT! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Never doubt medical science, Mara,” Isard commented.

Now Isard began to just play with her. The intensity of the beams shifted, so that Mara’s attention was drawn to parts of her body. The tickling everywhere diminished to the tactile equivalent of background noise, except on her feet, which grew much worse. The pink beams slid across her soles, along the instep and up the heel, then swirling and coming back down again, only to crawl back up the ball. Mara’s laughter became shrieks at the sensation. There were three or four of them working each sole; it was hard to be more exact because her feet were being completely overwhelmed. She squeezed her fists but it accomplished nothing, the slow movement was inescapable.

Eventually the feet fell into the background while her ribs took center stage. There were several beams, each aside to their own rib. The beams slid slowly back and forth, first towards the center of her body, then back out towards the side. Each time the beam pulsed, becoming more and more intense, until Mara couldn’t laugh any more, because it was almost impossible to breathe. In... then out... then in... over and over on that helpless ribcage.

The ribs slipped into the background finally, and Isard decided to take a more perverse turn. Mara felt a beam crawl along her butt into her crack, then draw down into onto her anus itself. She screamed as the pulse hit, again and again. It tickled like crazy, and what was worse was it was like getting sodomized by a feather duster! Mara tried in vain to shift it away from its target, but there wasn’t even the slightest give for her to do so. While her asshole was worked over, beams explored her curved cheeks until Mara’s laughter took on a staccato quality.

Mara’s tummy was next, and this was another brutal spot for her. The pink lights slid across her abs, and her belly quivered like the skin of a drum under it. “NO MORE! Mara begged. “PLE-HEHEHEHE HAHAHAHA!!!” But Isard wasn’t called “Iceheart” for nothing, and her belly was subjected to more of the pulses as the tickling increased. “NO-NO! NO-HOHOHOHOHO!!!” At the same time, her navel was teased terribly, so that it was like something was digging around inside with thousands of tickly legs. “GET AWAY! WA-HAHAHAHA!”

“You know,” Isard said, “you are truly entertaining like this.” Mara was shrieking in ticklish angst. “I should sell tickets, maybe even broadcast this on the holonet and charge people; you’re quite an amusing toy, Mara.”

Mara’s back was next. They started just above her butt, slowly drawing up until Mara’s eyes were squeezed tighter than an airlock. They hit a spot on the spine, another on her shoulder blade, and still another around the kidney area that sucked the air right out of her lungs. In front, her nipples had grown erect under the stimulation, and the beams pulses were murder. “No no no no no no no NO!” she cried before descending into another laughing fit.

But then something surprising happened. Whether it was being stimulated on an erogenous zone, or whether it was an unintended side effect, pleasure began to build inside Mara. She still laughed uncontrollably, but she started to get more and more aroused. The sensations on her breasts and butt became exquisite, and she actually let out a moan or two despite the laughter. She didn’t come, but despite Isard’s grilling Mara found the tickling becoming more and more pleasurable... almost erotic. As the lights played across her skin, she happily held her head back and let the laughter pour out of her.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Danoob examined the readings. Good. Fortunately the Empire’s brutality allowed proper context for the memories to be accepted. Mara was obviously the most dangerous of the quartet; her assassin skills, experience with disguise, and limited Force abilities could possibly lead to problems. Of course, those skills were the very reason she’d been targeted in the first place. Ms. Danoob carefully noted the information while she mulled it over. Yes, Mara should definitely be one of the first. If the procedure worked with her, it would almost certainly work with anyone. She entered some commands into her computer, instructing it to schedule her for tomorrow. “No more dreams, ladies,” she said to the sleeping women. “Tomorrow the real thing begins.”

Part 5


“You have done well, my dear girl.”

“Thank you, my master,” Mara said with a bow. How foolish she had been, to think the Emperor could actually die. Someone as powerful as him? It was all she could do not to laugh at her own behavior.

“I understand Ysanne performed an unauthorized interrogation on you,” the Emperor commented.

“I told her nothing,” she assured him, though it was only because Isard had spent so much time torturing her she’d never gotten around to her questions.

“I know,” he said. “And that is why I am pleased with you. I have left you a gift... a reward for your resilience, and your loyalty to me.” And Mara saw Isard strapped into a restraint, bare naked, and fully-exposed for anyone who might want to, say, tickle the hell out of her. The Emperor smiled that insidious grin of his. “So long as you do not mark her, you may do with her as you like.”

“You are most generous, my master,” Mara said with another bow. The Emperor left, and Mara turned to Isard. The latter was gagged; good, there was no need to listen to her insults anyway. “Oh, how I’ve been looking forward to this...” Mara mused as she walked over to Isard, then drew a fingernail up the restrained woman’s abdomen. Isard shivered in response. “You and I are going to have so much fun,” Mara said, wriggling her fingernails over Isard’s face. “I’m not one for machines,” she said. “I like to feel the touch of my victims... I want to feel you squirming beneath my fingers, Iceheart. I want to watch this frigid little ice queen squeal and squirm until you turn pink and red and purple with laughter.” She pinched both of Isard’s cheeks. “I want to tickle you until you black out.” Isard’s eyes bugged out. “And after that, then I’ll see how far I can really push you.”

There was no further commentary, Mara just jumped straight into it, dropping both hands onto the exposed ribs. Isard screamed into the gag as squeezed all over them, eyes tightly screwed shut in an attempt to resist. Mara grinned evilly. “Just like I thought,” she said, digging her nails in all over the ribcage, “you’re one of those sadists incapable of tolerating any of the things you love to dish out.” Isard couldn’t respond, but it didn’t make a difference; she was just shrieking into her gag anyway. “Cootchie cootchie coo,” Mara teased, loving this situation to no end. “Who’s my tickle toy? You are!” Isard responded with more laughter and attempts to buck Mara away, but she was too firmly held down. “Oh, you can’t get away, little tickle toy,” Mara teased, and began attacking the ribs with greater fury. “You’re my present!” Tears ran down Isard’s face. “And I’m going to have so much fun playing with you!”

Mara paused and gave Isard a chance to breathe, all the while looking up and down her body, tapping her lips as she thought. “Hm hm hm... where to next?” She walked down a little ways. “Oh, I know.” She grinned a grin that normally is only seen with a fin on top, taking up a fine brush. “Iceheart... frigid little bitch that you are. If I’m going to turn you into a squealing mess, I’ve got to start in that cold, cold place don’t I?” Isard’s eyes bugged out as she saw Mara reach for her groin, and she started rambling into the gag. “Don’t like the thought of that?” Mara asked, looking at her. Isard shook her head vehemently. “Too bad,” Mara said, and got to work, teasing Isard’s womanhood with the brush. Isard’s entire body shook, and deep laughs were fighting to escape past the gag. “So very ticklish here,” Mara observed, moving the brush with precise strokes, enough to tickle without actually stimulating, so that Isard writhed under the effects of the tickle torture. “Scream for me, little ice queen,” Mara teased while Isard complied, “scream.”

Eventually Mara stopped, and set the brush aside, then looked up at the gasping Isard. “Where to now?” she asked. “There are so many places to choose from... so many places where you’re so vulnerable.” Mara started on the inner thighs while Isard laughed. “But what am I saying?!” Mara declared as she tickled away. “I’ll get to all the spots in time, several times in fact. No need to stop and think about it, just tickle tickle tickle until the game is done.” Isard laid back and wailed, and Mara just grinned and relished in the payback...

Mara woke up. Third time she’d had the dream... although to be honest, it wasn’t a bad thing to dream about. Getting back at Iceheart for what she’d done to her was a lot of fun. It felt good... real good... “I can think of some unorthodox uses for my lightsaber” kind of good. She sighed; but it wasn’t real, and what was worse was she was stuck in some kind of facility with no way out and no contact with anyone. Her dreams were real nice, but her reality was dull dull dull. All there was were the displays she was given to read; each day something new. She read them and re-read them because there was only so much you could do besides staring at the wall and making due without a lightsaber.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, Ms. Danoob watched Mara on the display. Good... she wasn’t showing any signs of hostility, and her EEG didn’t show any sign of problems either. The feedback instruments on her body had detected the sexual excitement during the past three nights, which showed the dream programs were having the desired effect. Yes, Mara, you love tickling other girls, she thought. It’s been fun, hasn’t it? Maybe it’s time we found you a playmate, hmm? Someone you can have lots of fun tickling everywhere?

Ms. Danoob cycled through the other three video displays. “What do you prefer, Mara,” she asked quietly, “blonds or brunettes?” She speculated a little. Lara would be a fine match-up, except that would leave Starbuck and Seven as a pair, and that could be a problem. With her cybernetics, there was a chance Starbuck would associate her with Cylons, and that introduced an uncertain element in the mix, and this was already a potentially volatile reaction already. So, would it be the hotshot pilot, or the cyborg?

Seven of Nine, she decided. She was still a virgin, and that would have her defer to Mara’s experience in sexual matters. Because Mara would be guiding her, it would add another layer there, increasing their potential intimacy. Yes... it would be a good start, especially because it would mean that those two would be available to help bring in others if need be, and their talents would certainly be good early on. They complemented one another, Mara’s speed with Seven’s strength; Seven’s smarts with Mara’s cunning. They would prove the keystone of this entire operation if this worked.

She tapped some keys and an image of Seven of Nine came up, and an arrow began flashing while the word “UPLOADING” appeared at the bottom of the screen. “Well, Mara,” Ms. Danoob said, “meet your new girlfriend.”
--------------------------------------------------------------

Mara watched from hiding. She recognized the device as the one she’d been tickle-torturing Isard on, but this time things were different; this time someone else was the victim. A blond woman, voluptuous, and obviously very frightened. “Please,” she said pitiably, “please don’t hurt me!”

“Tell me about your rebel friends then,” Isard said, looking over the equipment.

“I’m not in the rebellion!” the woman said. “I’m just a filing clerk! I don’t know anything at all about the rebels, I swear!”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here,” Isard said with the kind of logic that once proved the galaxy was shaped like a banana. Mara’s heart went out to the poor girl; she’d done some interrogations before, and nobody was that good an actress. This woman had obviously been picked up by mistake, but Iceheart was either too dumb or too sadistic to see it. “We’ll find out if that holds up,” she said as she turned back to the prisoner.

“Please!” the woman cried. “Somebody! Help me!”

“There’s no one to hear you down here,” Isard said without mercy.

The woman was crying now. “Please someone help me please!” she said with sobs. The words filled Mara with such guilt, but she couldn’t give away the fact she was here or it could cause her a lot of trouble down the line. “...please don’t let her hurt me...”

“Hurt?” Isard asked. “No, I wouldn’t hurt you. You’re much too delicate for that. No, I have other means to get the information out of you... other ways to make you scream,” she said with a sinister expression. The girl closed her eyes and wept quietly while Isard touched her cheek. “And oh how you will scream.”

Bitch, Mara thought. How the hell did something like you wind up heading the ISB?

The girl chuckled as Isard drew her nails slowly across her armpits. The gesture was repeated again and again, until the girl was having fits. Then she started wriggling them a little as she did it, and the laughs deepened, until eventually the girl was beside herself with laughter while Isard explored the ticklish limits of her underarms. “STOP!” the girl cried. “I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING! HAHAHAHA!!!”

“We’ll see,” Isard said, though she still didn’t ask any questions, she just tickled away. The girl closed her eyes and laughed, trembling as she tried to endure but clearly far too ticklish for that. Isard’s nails began digging in now, and the laughter turned to intense howls. She started going further with each stroke now, so that she was running along the ribs and her expansive breasts. The girl was crying she was laughing so hard, and still Isard didn’t ask her anything, still didn’t do anything but torture the poor girl.

“PLEASE STOP!!!” the blond cried. “PLEE-HEHEHEHE!” She gasped. “OH NO MORE! NO-HOHOHOHO MOOOORRREEE!!!” But Isard was really working furiously now, having reached the girls flanks. She pinched and kneaded the tender flesh while the girl shook and roared. “I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING!!! JUST STOP!!! STA-HAHAHAHAHA-OP!!!”

“In time,” Isard teased, again kicking the tickling up further. The roars stopped now as a silent scream of laughter emerged, and then the girl laid there, literally crying now, tickled beyond her limits and now just in a place where there was nothing but woe.

Mara had had enough. Sure, she had to admit that seeing the buxom blond get tickled was a serious turn on, but still, the poor girl didn’t deserve Isard’s harsh ministrations. Mara stepped out quietly; it was easy to slip across the room with the shrieks of the girl, not to mention the fact that Isard’s attention was totally focused on her work. Mara tapped her on the shoulder; Isard whirled around, straight into Mara’s uppercut. She was actually knocked off her feet and landed nearby in an unconscious heap. “Are you all right,” she asked the woman on the table.

“Oh, yes,” she said, sniffing and panting. Mara released the restraints and the woman got up and embraced her. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she said. “Oh, you’re my hero!”

It was so cheesy, yet for some reason, the words caused a smile to twitch to Mara’s face. For some reason the thought of that was actually... pleasing to her. “I’m glad I could help,” she said, “but we’ve got to get you out of here.”

The blond woman stepped back, nodding her understanding. “Where?”

“Someplace where you’ll be safe.”

“Will you be there?”

Mara hesitated. “Would you like that?”

“Very much,” the blond said. “You... you make me feel safe.” And again, despite herself, Mara felt the smile tugging at her lips.

Part 6


Seven of Nine watched from hiding as the Borg Queen approached the device. Seven had tickle-tortured the Queen on it many times before, but now instead she had a victim there, some red-haired woman. “Our preliminary scans indicate you will be an ideal specimen.”

“Please,” the woman pleaded, “I don’t belong here!”

“Your pleas are irrelevant,” the Queen said neutrally. “We require your cooperation in our study of the humanoid phenomenon known as tickling.”

The woman’s eyes bugged out. “Oh no! Not that! Please no, I’m too ticklish!”

“The attribute of being ‘too ticklish’ is what makes you such an ideal candidate,” the Queen said.

“Please, no!” she begged.

“Cease your protests, they are futile.” The Queen walked over to the equipment and began entering some commands; insidious devices began emerging. The woman pleaded pitiably, but there was no way she would escape the inevitable.

The ceiling opened over the table and a hideous round piece of equipment dropped out, and the woman screamed at the sight of it. Probes and feathers descended from it, and she repeated said “no” in the hopes that it could somehow stop what was about to happen. But it was only a machine, with no independent will, and even if it did, machines felt no empathy. So they snaked towards her, and she almost immediately began screaming with laughter. The tickling was quick and heavy and without mercy. Probes squeezed her ribs and thighs, while others dug into her tummy. More clawed at her underarms, and others poked her flanks. Feathers stroked the bottoms of her feet and swirled inside her navel. And the red-haired girl closed her eyes and roared with unrestrained laughter. “WAHAHAHAHA!!! NO! STOP!!! BWAHAHAHAHA! DON’T TICKLE ME!!! DON’T TICKLE MEEEE-HEHEHEHE!!!”

Time passed, and there was no change. The Queen merely stood there, observing, with neither malice nor enjoyment, but merely to catalogue. And the poor woman could only writhe and plead and laugh, and oh my did she laugh. Long and hard, filled with pleas and curses, helpless as the machine continued to tease and tickle every vulnerable spot from head to toe. After a while it even started feathering her neck and ears, and probes teased her collarbones. Spots with a good response received even more attention, and she began begging for the ticking to end, or if not, to at least be limited, that this was beyond what she could endure. But mercy is irrelevant.

Seven hesitated, in conflict. She should not interfere; it wasn’t her affair. And compounding the issue was the fact that the sight of the red-haired woman being tickled was... stimulating. Yet at the same time, her pitiful cries and desperation moved Seven... she couldn’t allow this poor woman to suffer this way. She slipped a short ways away, entered some commands into a Borg data interface, and watched. Sure enough, the message was properly distributed, and the Queen terminated the session and left. They’d see through the deception quickly, but it was sufficient time for what Seven had in mind. “Are you damaged?” she asked the woman as she began to remove the restraints.

“Just tickled out of my skin, but I’m fine.”

“We must hurry; I was only able to provide a temporary distraction.”

“You’re rescuing me?” The woman looked at Seven with adoration. “Oh, thank you!”

Seven looked uncertainly back, even more conflicted than before. “You are welcome,” she said. “Come here; I will transport us to safety.” The woman grabbed onto Seven, and it was... enjoyable. Seven activated the transporter and they re-appeared in a building on the ravaged world below, but safe from the elements and hopefully from the Borg. “We have adequate provisions,” she assured her companion.

The woman didn’t let go. “You saved me,” she said with disbelief. “You’re so- so wonderful!” Seven was shocked when the woman kissed her on the lips, and even more shocked that it felt so incredible. She felt control of herself slipping, and she had no idea of how much time elapsed before their lips parted. “Thank you,” the woman said, rubbing her face next to Seven’s. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Reparations are not required,” Seven said.

“Oh, but I want to do something,” the woman said. “Let me rub your back for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Seven said, but the woman had already turned her and begun massaging her shoulders; Seven was surprised by how relaxing it was.

“How’s that?” the woman asked.

“It is... desirable,” Seven said, closing her eyes.

The woman led Seven over to a couch and the two sat down, the rubbing never stopping. After a few minutes she slid her hands under the uniform fabric; skin on skin was even better. Another few minutes, and she began undoing the top of Seven’s uniform; Seven didn’t resist. The woman rubbed all over her shoulders and back and Seven just closed her eyes and relished the massage.

And then her eyes snapped open. She felt the woman’s hands reaching around and holding Seven’s breasts, kneading them as well. Seven closed her eyes again and moaned; she knew theoretically that those glands were there for the purposes of pleasure, but had no idea just what a skilled pair of hands could do with them. The woman squeezed and rubbed Seven’s full breasts while the Borg surrendered to her human nature and leaned into her, yearning for more, hoping the sensation would never stop. Eventually one of the hands did, but it slid down Seven’s body and in between her legs, and Seven let out another long moan. This she also knew from a theoretical standpoint, but the touch was more intense and exhilarating than anything she’d ever imagined. She was groaning rapidly between the hand on her breast and the one between her legs, and she felt the hot breath of the woman behind her on her neck, and for a time it was as if she ceased to be a corporeal creature and was instead merely a mind wrapped in pure joy. And then her body returned as an explosion of pleasure rippled through her being and left her panting in the arms of the red-haired woman.

The woman squeezed Seven in a strong embrace. “Did you like that?” Seven could only nod, she didn’t have the strength to speak. “I’m glad... I love making you feel good, Seven,” she said, and began kissing her neck, and Seven sighed with happiness.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Mara Jade was resting, though she couldn’t sleep. She was watching the girl she rescued lie there, turning occasionally. Her silhouette was... intoxicating. She curved... such beautiful curves. Every shape was perfect, her hips, her legs, her behind, her waist, her chest, it spoke to parts of Mara she’d never expected she had. Something about the sight of her stirred things in Mara. She wanted to take her into her arms and promise to always protect her from anything, to tell her that there would never again be fear or pain, only warmth and safety and... compassion.

Mara looked at the girl, and felt a little of what was there before, but with something else. She looked at her, and she felt desire, but she also felt... close. When she called her “my hero,” it had stirred things in Mara’s tummy. It was nonsensical, and yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off her, couldn’t help but wish she could feel her lips upon hers, to delicately fondle those ample breasts, to feel her body pressed against hers until their pleasure took on a tangible form.

The girl turned over, and Mara stiffened. She smiled at Mara. “You’re beautiful,” she commented, coming over. “May I give you a kiss?” Mara breathed heavily, hesitantly, but then nodded.

But then the unexpected happened. Mara realized that she wasn’t wearing any clothes, and the blond girl wasn’t interested in her mouth. Instead she was kissing Mara’s inner thighs, teasingly heading towards her womanhood. Mara was about to say something when she felt her hot breath there, only to follow it up with a gentle blowing on her clitoris; both sent shivers through Mara’s body. She touched Mara delicately with her fingers, and any thoughts of protests instantly evaporated. She was kissing her, carefully but firmly, stimulating her incredibly. Her tongue was drawn slowly up the entire length of her womanhood, and Mara shuddered. Normally she might describe the tongue as exploring her, but that would be inaccurate; this woman moved like all the exploration had been finished years ago, and now knew by heart every spot to touch and how to touch it, and Mara laid back and moaned with pleasure as she did things to her that were so wonderful it would demean it by referring to it with a mere word.

After it was done, the woman slid up and laid beside her, embracing her where she lay and smiling at her. It was a pretty smile, a smile that said she was happy just by looking at Mara, and Mara found herself feeling the same. Whoever she was... Mara hoped she’d never go away.

The two slept, and then morning came, and she was still there, still smiling at Mara. Mara smirked back as she looked her up and down. “Like what you see?” the blond asked.

Mara let out a small laugh. “Yes,” she admitted.

The blond nuzzled up to her. “You were watching me get tickled.” She let the implication hang there a moment. “You liked it.”

Mara hesitated now. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “You’re... very beautiful. Seeing you laugh was... was arousing.”

The blond smiled at her all the same. “It’s okay. I kind of like it too, it was just that bitch was pushing me too far.” She thought a moment, then slid back and put her foot in front of Mara. “Go ahead,” she said warmly.

Mara looked at the foot, then at her. “Are you sure?”

The blond giggled. “Yes,” she said. “You’re my hero; the least I can do is let you tickle my feet... provided you don’t overdue it.”

Mara took hold of the ankle and looked at the foot. She could feel the girl stiffen in anticipation, but when Mara looked at her she nodded her consent. Mara drew a fingernail down the sole, and the girl gasped. Back up, and she did so again. Faster, and she was giggling... and it was such a beautiful sound. She tickled a little more rapidly, and the giggles turned to chuckles, and they in turn became laughter, and all stirred things inside Mara, each sound giving her a little bit more joy than the last. But she kept the tickling controlled; this was a gift, and she wouldn’t abuse it. Besides that, the thought of seeing this girl crying again would be too much to bear, and to imagine herself as the cause would break her own heart. She tickled her foot and relished it, and looking into the eyes of the girl, she saw it was the same. The laughs and smiles may be involuntary reactions, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still genuine, weren’t still how she felt. Mara tickled her foot, and it felt to her as intimate and joyous as making love.

Mara stopped, put the foot down, and pulled her close. “Are you a dream?” she asked finally. The girl said nothing, and Mara closed her eyes. “Because I don’t want to wake up if you won’t be there.”

The blond hugged her tightly. “I am... something of a dream. I’m... a vision of the future.” She looked into Mara’s eyes, and the Emperor’s Hand felt tears form at the sight of them. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised. “When the time is right, you’ll find me. Flesh and blood, I swear it Mara.” She put Mara’s hand over her own heart, and said one last thing-
And then Mara Jade opened her eyes, and found herself in bed, alone. And Mara -who had killed countless people without batting an eye- began crying, as the final words seemed to echo in her mind. “I swear it on my love for you.”

Part 7


Commander Adama’s normally grim face lit up as Starbuck walked off the Raptor. “Good to have you back, lieutenant,” he said as he shook her hand.

“Good to be home, commander,” Starbuck said back. He gestured and they walked side by side through the Galactica.

“Did the Cylons give you a rough time?” he asked.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir,” Starbuck said, although that was stretching the truth. The reality was that the situation had been a frakking nightmare, but she dare not let anyone else know, especially the means the Cylons used to torment her. The whole wing would probably pin her down and tickle her silly if they knew.

Unfortunately, it seemed this day wasn’t as good as she thought. “We know what happened,” he said.

Starbuck wore that face that had won her many a card game. “What’s that?”

“Everything,” Adama said, stopping and looking her in the face. “Everything that happened.”

Starbuck looked around so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. “And by everything, you mean...”

“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Kara,” he assured her. “The Cylons have taken our home, our security, our friends... trying to take away your dignity is just one more reason we’re going to put as much distance between them and us as possible.”

Starbuck looked down and smacked her lips. “It’s easy to say, commander, when it wasn’t your dignity taken.”

“I realize that,” Adama said. “And I also realize that you’re probably worried about how this is going to affect your life here. It won’t. Anyone breathes a word of it is in front of me faster than crap through a goose, got me?”

“Got it, sir,” she said with a smirk.

“Listen, we picked up a human model Cylon, and I remember how well you handled the interrogation of the last one we discovered. Feel like taking your shot at her?”

“I think I’ve had my fill of Cylons for a while,” Starbuck said.

“Are you sure?” Adama asked as he opened the door. Starbuck looked over and saw Number Six, stripped and stretched out on a table. There was a rack of feathers, back-scratchers, and other sinister devices nearby. “I thought you could find a way to convince her to talk.”

Starbuck smiled and nodded. “I definitely think I could accomplish something, commander.” Adama nodded and walked out. “Well well well...” she remarked as she walked towards the table. “If it isn’t my old friend.”

“Cylons aren’t ticklish,” Number Six informed her.

Starbuck offered her favorite grin, the smartass one. “Why don’t we test that theory.”

“There’s no need.”

“Oh, I think there is,” Starbuck said, interlocking her fingers and cracking her knuckles. She watched the Cylon’s expression, and that card playing skill told her she was up against an opponent that was bluffing. She hopped up on the table and straddled Number Six. “I’ve been looking for a little payback.”

“I didn’t do that,” Six said nervously.

“How do I know that?” Starbuck wondered aloud. “I think the only way would be for you to confess everything. She dug her nails into Six’s ribs; immediately the Cylon began laughing hysterically. “What’s the matter?” Starbuck asked as she squeezed away. “Your programming having a difficult time handling this?”

“It hahaha wasn’t hohoho me!” Six said as Starbuck worked her entire ribcage over.

“I think you might be lying,” Starbuck said, squeezing and prodding all along her torso, getting her flanks every now and then. “Cootchie cootchie coo!” she teased. “Who’s the ticklish little toaster? Who is it?” Six held back her head and laughed hard. “It’s you, dearie! It’s all you.”

“Please! I’ll tell you what you want!”

“What I want,” Starbuck said as she laid forward over Six’s body, so that her face was right in front of the Cylons, “is to see how ticklish your armpits are.” Her fingers dropped into the exposed pits, and Six practically sprayed Starbuck in the face from how hard the laughter came out. “Hm, very, from the looks of it. Interesting programming choice, don’t you think?”

“Get off of me...” Six pleaded with quiet laughter. There was nothing subtle in Starbuck’s vengeance; you don’t frak with her and expect her not to come back with everything she had. When she went after Six’s armpits, it was a rapid, wriggling affair, and Starbuck fully explored the length and breadth of her pits. Six was hiccupping, she was laughing so much. “...no he-he-he-he more...”

“But more is what I got you for your birthday,” Starbuck said. “You can’t expect me to return it to the store, not after you nuked the entire shopping district.” She grabbed now and worked her thumbs around in the hollows for a while, causing Six to go wild. The restraints were strained, but they’d hold. They’d hold long enough for Starbuck to tickle every inch of this blond cutie over and over again... and she reminded Number Six of that fact before she grabbed her ribs again.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Things started to happen now, and they weren’t all that pleasant. For starters, they’d taken to tickle-interrogating Mara, which was something she hoped she’d never have to again experience. They wanted info on blasters, the common weapons throughout the Empire, but Mara wasn’t a technician. She had a grasp on the basics, but no idea how to help these people construct them. That was bad; it’s always bad when someone tries to torture information out of you that can’t be provided. She’d suffered through several very long tickle sessions so far, and she wasn’t sure when they’d realize she meant it when she said she’d told them everything.

There was another addition made to her routine: she was to be compelled to witness the torment of others. The idea was no doubt to remind her of what she’d go through if she refused to cooperate. It also sent the unspoken message: when you’re a laughing, begging mess, people are watching you. Your weakness is on public display.

So Mara sat in a chair and the screen lit up, and there was tickle-torture in progress. Mara’s jaw fell open.

It was her. There were some differences, but as Mara looked into her face and listened to her laugh, there was no doubt. This was the girl from her dreams, real and in the flesh. How?

The Force.

It was the only thing that made sense. She knew the Force could send people visions, information about past, present, and future. She’d been informed ahead of time about this woman, but why? She considered everything. Maybe because she comes to care so much about her, that her future self influenced her past one. That too had been known to happen for those with Force abilities. It was a stretch, but at the moment it was all she had.

Mara watched the girl for a while. The differences seemed to be the presence of cybernetics across her body; the one in her dreams looked normal. Another thing she observed was the complete absence of all hair except for on her head. Not just shaved or even electrolysis; it was clear that she simply had no hair period. Very unusual; perhaps it was related to the presence of the cybernetics, but whatever it was, they both gave her a hint of the exotic, which was fine with Mara. She’d never had any inkling of such feelings before, but as she looked at the blond woman she knew without a doubt she wanted to know her as well as the one from her dreams.

Mara watched her, and she felt her arousal grow. The girl was ticklish all right... maybe even more than she’d been in Mara’s dreams. Her feet had been stretched out by some mechanical device, and probes were carefully but persistently prodding and stroking them. She could see how securely the feet were held, but even then the woman was strong enough to squirm them a little bit, though not enough to escape. Her upper body was wrapped in a straightjacket that was itself further reinforced with cabling; maybe she was as strong as it implied - cyborgs often were. At the moment it offered little comfort apparently; the girl was thrashing her upper body about in a feeble attempt to break free, screaming with laughter as her feet were teased. “STOP! BWA-HAHAHAHA!!!”

“We want technology on fusion reactors,” a voice said. Mara knew it, it was the same feminine voice that grilled her about blasters. Apparently this effort was to acquire technology, though why they needed something as primitive as a fusion reactor was beyond Mara... although admittedly she wouldn’t know the first thing about how to help them build one, so it was lucky those weren’t her feet.

“YOU’LL HAVE IT!” The girl said before descending into a laughing fit that shook her entire body. The probes had taken an interest in the spaces in front of and between her toes, and it was obvious those were bad spots for the ticklish prisoner. “LET ME GO!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“So you say,” the voice said. “But you haven’t yet provided us with anything more than a few vague diagrams. I want a working prototype, not theory.”

“I NEED TIME!” Her jaw hung open, her laugh silent now as she reached that point where the tickling didn’t even allow the strength to breathe. “JUST MAKE IT STOP!” she finally managed to cry.

“We want you to remember why you need to work harder, my dear,” the unsympathetic voice said.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Seven of Nine’s head swung back to better let the laughter escape. The tickling seemed to get worse each time they brought her down here, but whether that was a subjective viewpoint or by their design was impossible for her to deduce, and regardless, she had more pressing concerns, and they were at the ends of her legs. “I’LL DO IT! HAHAHAHA! JUST STOP! STOP!!!”

“In time,” the cruel voice said.

And then Seven felt the new touch, and it was so surprising she managed to forget the horrible assault on her feet. A tickling presence had slipped between her legs and was teasing her vagina. Oh no, she thought, not that. This is humiliating enough. But as it stroked she knew what she was in for, the subtle touches a strange compliment to the unrestrained intensity of the stroking and prodding probes on her soles.

Seven closed her eyes and laughed. The touch there tickled like crazy, there was no denying that. But it harkened back to the Borg experiments she remembered, where despite the sensation it had resulted in incredible pleasure. She could feel it building again, amplified by the tickling of her feet. After a couple of minutes, her laughter changed. It was no longer desperation, it was... it was simply a reaction, nothing more. The sensations in her tummy made the tickling take on a wonderful quality. They teased along her arches, near the area by the toes, around the ball, all over her feet, and it became exquisite. She laughed... but it was as if it were a laugh of joy. And the touch to the areas of her womanhood she’d never really regarded over the years almost made her feel drunk. She stopped struggling in her straightjacket. She wished the redhead girl were here to touch her in her magical ways... it was the only thing missing from the situation to make it truly perfect. To feel her hands on Seven’s body while this pleasure rolled through her... just the thought... just...

The laughter stopped and Seven laid back, exhausted, but flooded with pleasure. It was her first conscious orgasm as a human... and she approved. She wanted another. What she didn’t realize was that someone was watching her who wished with all her heart to give it to her.

Part 8


The monitors came on in Mara's, Seven's, and Kara's rooms to show the next unfortunate victim. It was Lara; she was stuck in some kind of box that contained everything from the ribcage down; other than that she had unrestricted movement. "Since Lara has proven the most stubborn of you all," the familiar voice said, "she will be introducing you all to our latest means of persuasion - the Block. As you can see, whatever's inside the Block is beyond her reach, and there's no way out. She's securely propped in an open kneeling position; movement within the Block is impossible, as is escape from it."

Lara glowered, but it was correct. She couldn't move an inch, and she knew she was in a vulnerable position, given what they likely had in mind. "Inside the Block are all manner of remotely controlled devices; I shouldn't have to explain what it is they do. Anything inside the Block is vulnerable, and there are no guarantees that we won't simply employ all of them."

"Yes, yes, you're quite diabolical," Lara said irritably. "I will not be compelled to do anything for you, and you can be certain that when I find my way out -and I will- I will make sure you answer for all the indignities you've heaped upon me."

"Your bravado is tiring, Lara," the voice said wearily. "Let's begin."

Lara stiffened and began giggling; a feather was obviously slowly being drawn across her belly. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, but the sensations refused. She began chuckling and then shifted into full laughter as it slipped into her bellybutton and began dancing about. "Stop it," she said as she laughed. "Stop..."

Suddenly Lara shrieked. Something was going after her feet, though she couldn't tell what because immediately she had descended into a serious laughing fit. Her foot was stretched out, toes wide open, and that left so many vulnerable spots she didn't know what they were going to try. At the moment they were content to run feathers all along both soles, although given what the voice had said there would likely be more if they wanted it. Let them, a defiant part of Lara thought. However much this was torture, she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of thinking her weak because of it. Of course, willpower wasn't going to have a chance of stopping her body's reaction to the sensations, which was intense laughter at the ticklish touches. She pounded her fists on the surface of the Block for all the good it did.

Lara stiffened then shook at the next attack. The knees... she never thought about the knees, but they were one of her worst spots, and the restraints the knees were locked into apparently contained some kind of servo, because they gently were squeezing the joints in such the right spots that Lara began letting out deep belly laughs. "OH NO! NO! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" she cried as these new sensations quickly eclipsed the others. But she was firmly locked into position; there wasn't the slightest give, so all she could do was hold her head back and laugh.

"Where's your bravado now, Ms. Croft?" the voice asked. Lara let out a choice collection of curses in the midst of her laughing fit, showing that despite the ordeal she wasn't going to beg, especially for mercy she knew she wouldn't receive. She ran her fingers into her hair and tugged in a vain attempt to distract herself, but the tickling was overpowering.

The next sensations were the ones she feared the most. Her buttocks were so very, very sensitive, and the machine was gently but rapidly pinching all over each swollen cheek, until Lara thought she was going to somehow crawl out of her own skin. "STOP IT!" she wailed. "STO-HAHAHAHAHA-OP!!!" Of course, no one was going to listen, and secretly she loathed her weakness, but there was nothing for it. Her body was ignoring her firm Croft pride and trying to cope with the ticklish touches... and it had to, because clearly they weren't going to relent. "WAHAHAHAHA! STOP! NO-HOHOHOHAHAHA!!!" But still they continued. It was so strong she barely noticed when more prodding started, this time along her inner thighs. She squirmed and tried to resist, but she was positioned with legs open and couldn't do anything. Still, while it wasn't one of her favorite spots, it still fell as background noise to the endless goosing of her behind. "GET ME OUT OF THIS BLOODY THING!" she cried before a laughing fit overtook her.

The next touch came, and Lara stiffened. She'd been expecting it, of course; you don't lock someone in this position unless you have something like this in mind. Still, she'd been hoping it wouldn't come to this... it attacked a place she was vulnerable in more ways than one. The small group of feathers began their slow, even strokes along her womanhood driving her to shake and squirm even as the tickling subjected her to incredible physical strains already. Yet there was nothing she could do to resist the impact it had, and despite the laughing she found herself gasping and moaning at the touches. She had a strong sexual drive, and this kind of touch grabbed all the levers of her libido and pulled. After a short while she couldn’t ignore it any more; she took a massive breast in each hand and began firmly squeezing, enhancing what was already happening. Soon she could feel it building, like a growing tone amidst an orchestra as the pinches and prods and strokes tickled her out of her mind. None of it mattered now; she could sense release coming, and she needed it more than she needed to cling to her Croft pride. She closed her eyes and ground her teeth, groaning, trying to will the accursed stroking to move faster even while she resented its very existence.

Finally, mercifully, it came, and Lara glowed in its arrival. As it did the machinery must have determined the change, because it switched itself off. She sat there in the Block, panting and wiping the sweat from her forehead. It had been awful, and wonderful, just like always. But that didn't mean she didn't resent the indignity of it.

"That was level one," the voice informed her. "Now let's begin the level two demonstration." And Lara held her head back and roared with laughter.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The following day, Seven faced the monitor as she was always instructed. This time, however, she was caught completely by surprise by the person laughing on the display.

Seven stared at the shrieking redhead on the monitor. There was no doubt, not with her perfect memory. This was the woman she'd dreamed of, appearing in the flesh. It wasn't possible, but yet it was... and Seven had to admit that she was grateful for that impossibility being ignored.

At the moment the redhead was stretched out and being tickled, as was usually the fate of those on the monitor screen. This time, however, was different. The sight of her giggling and squirming stirred some things Seven didn't understand but nevertheless enjoyed. She felt a little like she did when the one in her dreams would touch her. Perhaps now that she was here-

Seven terminated the line of thought. Her feelings were irrational. She was Borg; she had to remain logical. That this woman bore a similarity to someone that had existed in Seven's mind was anomalous, but not an indication that she was somehow going to fulfill some role in Seven's life. That was merely the influence of her weak human instincts attempting to impose their desires on reality, as if they could somehow transform it to suit her desires. The universe wasn't so accommodating.

Still, that didn't mean she couldn't indulge in the sensation of watching her.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Mara screwed her eyes shut and roared with laughter. This time they were going for broke apparently; she was stretched out on a table, and probes were exploring her armpits. She couldn't tell how many, but there had to be at least four for each one given how much they were doing, stroking and prodding and teasing until Mara thought she was going to wither away under the onslaught. They were meticulous and brutal, and even when she begged for mercy none was allowed; they weren't even asking any questions this time. "PLEASE STOP IT! PLEASE!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" But there was no change, or at least none that Mara could notice. Her hollows just endured the tickling being dispensed to them, and her face had turned crimson from the effects.

As if that wasn't bad enough, some kind of device had been deployed to examine her ribs. Points were placed on multiple spots on each exposed rib, and then as one they'd compress, squeezing it. It was as if they were crushing the air out of her body, because every time the tickling sensation completely took her breath away. Compared to this, her armpits were almost unnoticed. Another squeeze, and Mara was roaring. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING HAHAHAHAHA!!!" she said as she descended into a silent laugh. It shook as another pulse struck. "...please no more please..." she got out breathlessly, still not having the air to laugh.

I'm gonna pass out, she thought distantly. I can't even breathe any more! God, what do they want with me?! Why don't they just leave me alone?!!!

"DON'T TI-HEHEHEH-CKLE ME ANY MORE-HOHOHOHO!!!" she pleaded, but there was nothing, just further torment. "No more! NO MORE! PLEASE STOP IT!!!" She couldn't see, her eyes were so full of tears, and she could feel her whole body flush.

Then it began to ease off a little. It was still there, still driving her to laugh, but it wasn't the intense, overpowering thing it had been. It became almost pleasant... in fact, when she thought about a couple of the other sessions, she had to admit that when it didn't go overboard like this time, she kind of liked it. There was a certain pleasure to it, a certain bit of fun too. And really, she thought even as her lips begged for whoever was responsible to stop, as far as torment goes, this wasn't that bad. Lord knows people had tried worse on her over the years than just tickling her out of her skin. If this is what they had in mind for Mara's stay, well, she'd rather take this over anything else.

Besides, she thought, at least I get the chance to watch the blond get it too sometimes.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Danoob watched both Mara's writhing body and Seven's reaction. It seemed that the effort hadn't been in vain; there was definitely something growing there, and like anyone who plants a seed, Ms. Danoob had hoped it would reach fullest flower, and it looked like it just might. Timing, of course, was critical, but it seemed that the moment had arrived to attempt the next step and see what happened. Observation, then test your hypothesis; that was the scientific method, and it applied as much to people as it did to chemicals - in fact, there was a great deal of similarity. Mix them up, apply a little heat, and then just watch how they react... and then you learn something about how they work, and understand it.

And if you understand something, Ms. Danoob thought, you can control it.

Part 9


Mara Jade was escorted through the halls of this place, guards closely watching her, unable to shake the thought that whoever ran this place was completely insane. Since her arrival she’d been locked away, given limited reading material, the opportunity to watch other prisoners get interrogated, and then interrogated herself, and it all involved tickling. That was definitely out there, definitely pushing the envelope of sane behavior to be sure. This though, this clearly pushed it right off the desk and out the window, into a land where people wore underpants on their heads and talked to the flowers while giggling like idiots.

They had locked her into some kind of chastity belt-like restraint. As far as Mara was concerned, that’s already weird. But they had tested the device after that, and Mara found out the real secret: it was the world’s ugliest vibrator. At any time they could start stimulating her in a very sensitive place... which made zero sense! What was the point?! So far they’d done nothing interrogative except tickle her, now they were going to tease her sex drive?

Insanity. It was the only possible explanation.

They led her into a room with opaque glass and a single other doorway in it. The guards left and she heard the door lock. She tried the other, but there was no handle and it didn’t respond to anything she could think of. So she stood there in the dark room and waited, wondering what was going to happen. Someone finally spoke. “Hello, Mara.”

Mara looked about, but there was no one. “Hi,” she said irritably.

“We’ve looked over the information you’ve provided us,” the voice said. Must be remote broadcast, Mara thought. Smart, because I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on whoever brought me here. “We’re convinced that you’ve told us everything you know.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mara said darkly.

“We wish we could say the same for some of our other guests.” At that, the window turned clear, at least for Mara. She stared through it. It was the blond girl again, locked in restraints on the other side. She was being tickled out of her wits by some machine, mostly on her underarms, ribs, and inner thighs.

“I can’t help you!” she cried before her voice descended into a laughing fit. There were various prods working her torso over, prodding just a little ways in and wriggling about until the girl was trembling with ticklish laughter. “Please stop! PLEASE! YAHAHAHA!!!”

“Who is she?” Mara asked, her voice subdued.

The girl on the other side of the glass writhed. “Seven of Nine,” the voice said. “Is something wrong?”

Mara stared at her. There was no sense telling anyone what had happened; they wouldn’t believe it anyway. The Force was almost certainly unknown here, and anything she tipped them off to would only give them one more thing to try to tickle torture out of her.

Tickle torture... just watching Seven of Nine laugh and squirm stirred Mara’s insides. She was so beautiful, and her laugh was intoxicating. “Do you like her?” the voice asked.

Mara hesitated. “Yes,” she finally admitted. She felt the little vibrator switch on. She resented the intrusion, but at the same time, it was a nice little addition to the image of Seven of Nine’s tickle torment. Just the sight of her under their ministrations made Mara want to rub herself a little bit.

After a minute or so passed, the door opened, and Seven of Nine’s tickling stopped. “Then go to her.”

“Why?” Mara asked.

“It is our will.”

“No,” Mara said defiantly.

“Then we will tickle her until she weeps.”

A lump formed in Mara’s throat. Did they know? Or was it just a coincidence. Whatever it was, the memory of that girl crying under Isard’s touches was too much to bear... that that face of hers could be so grief-stricken... “Okay, I’ll go.”

Seven visibly stiffened as Mara walked into the room, her eyes glued to the redhead. Mara stood before her. “Introduce yourself,” the voice said. Mara swallowed, then said her name.

“Seven,” Seven of Nine said in reply. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped.

The silence was uncomfortable, but Mara had no idea of how to fill it. “Mara,” said the voice, “we want you to tickle her.”

Mara saw Seven’s eyes widen slightly in fear, and it hurt to know that she was the perceived cause. She wet her lips, uncertain. The truth... the unpleasant truth... was that she wanted to. The thought of tickling Seven was more arousing than the vibrations, to feel Seven’s soft skin beneath her fingers while she stroked that curved body, feeling her trembling involuntarily while she laughed... God, she wanted to do it more than anything!

“No,” Mara said. Because she also had come to care for this person, and she wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation, no matter how much it burned inside her.

“Do it,” the voice said sternly.

“She’s been tickled enough.”

“We don’t agree.”

“Well too bad!” Mara shouted in the general direction of the ceiling.

“If you refuse to comply, then we’ll tickle you instead.”

“Fine,” Mara said dismissively.

“We’ll tickle you until you pass out, Mara,” the voice said. “Until you can’t even breathe any more because you’ve-“

“Enough!” Seven said. “You will do as they have instructed.”

Mara turned and stared at her. “What?”

Seven took a visible breath. “I would not wish you to suffer simply because you refuse their instructions.” Mara’s jaw moved but no words came. “I merely request that you restrain yourself... I am... I am highly ticklish and am easily overwhelmed. Please show whatever mercy they will permit,” Seven swallowed, “but do what they say. I- I could not live with myself if harm were to befall you.”

Mara stood there in stunned silence, but then a little part of her she wasn’t all that proud of pumped its fist into the air and offered a “woohoo!” But she had to admit, if Seven was offering herself, there was nothing wrong with Mara taking her up on it. But where to start...?

Those underarms. There was no question; with no body hair they probably made silk feel like sandpaper by comparison. So milky white, so inviting... she noticed Seven’s look of apprehension, but even if she refused her at this point Mara couldn’t stop herself now, not until her fingers had tasted that flesh. She applied her nails gently, and Seven went from snicker to full laugh in seconds, and this was just casual stroking. Oh Seven, she thought, you truly are the girl of my dreams.

“Hahahaha stop it....” Seven laughed as Mara wriggled her fingers about her armpits. They were heavenly... Mara was restraining herself; she could sense how ticklish Seven was, that this was -pardon the pun- only scratching the surface. “Stoooo-hahahahaha-oppp...” Seven pleaded, but Mara knew she wouldn’t be allowed to end it so quickly, and really she was so going easy on the girl. If she wanted to see what Mara could really do- No! Control yourself, Mara, she thought, this girl volunteered for this to help protect you! Don’t take advantage of the situation.

Mara looked up into Seven’s laughing face. How could she not, though? And with the vibrations between her legs, tickling Seven had become heaven on Earth. Without conscious thought she started tickling even more intensely, and Seven’s laughs turned to cries and shouts of laughter. “NO! DO-HO-HO-N’T!” she begged as Mara’s fingers wriggled deep in her hollows. They were so smooth, so soft, so ticklish...

Mara pulled her hands away, and Seven gasped for breath. Rein it in, Mara, she thought. But there was that buzz against her nub, and that made it so hard. She wanted to pull Seven off that wall and fuck her twelve ways from Sunday, but that wasn’t allowed; all she could do was tickle her. And if it was all she had, she was forced to channel all her passion into it, because the pressure was threatening to blow her apart.

The breasts... her hands shot out and began stroking them. Oh, Mara had longed to experience them in every way possible... they were so full and shapely, so delicious. And apparently very ticklish, because Seven held her head back and roared as Mara tickled rapidly on the sides and underneath of both of them. “NOT THERE!” Seven pleaded. “PLEASE MARA! HAHAHAHA!!!” But Mara continued, her nails teasing across the supple flesh without mercy, causing Seven to fight like a mad woman while she bellowed with laughter. “STOP!!!”

Mara’s breath trembled in her throat. The vibrations were so intense... she imagined it was Seven again, doing the magic on her body that no one else could. And her breasts were right there, in Mara’s hands... she wanted to knead and fondle and taste them, but she was only allowed to do one thing with them, so she did it. She grabbed them in her hands and began squeezing in just the right way to cause Seven to scream with laughter. “NO MORE MARA! NO! YA-HAHAHAHAHOHOHOHO!!!” But Mara could feel her whole body longing for this, the sweat on her brow, the stiffening of her own nipples, the warm glow in her womanhood, the sound of her blood in her ears, the dryness of her mouth. She was going to experience pleasure unmeant for mere mortals, and between here and there lied this laughing Borg and her scrumptious body.

“TOO MUCH!” Seven wailed. “HAHAHAHA STOP!!!!” But Mara could feel the climax building, so that her hands had taken on a will of their own. She tickle-massaged Seven’s breasts while the Borg wailed with laughter. Come on! she thought. A little more! A little- The vibration stopped, and Mara cursed, but she was so close now... the sight of Seven in the throes of tickle agony was driving her wild with desire, and she continued even more fervently, despite the Borg’s protests. The feel of those jiggling breasts beneath her hands, the sight of those crimson cheeks, the sound of her laughter, it was like nothing Mara ever experienced, and something she hoped would never end. So Seven’s pleas for her to relent went ignored as Mara tickled her with a frenzy of passion.

After how long, she had no idea, but she came. Immediately she stopped tickling, panting a little; Seven was doing the same. She looked up to Seven’s face, and saw her exhaustion, and realized what she had done, how she’d lost control. Seven looked up at her in turn, and her expression said it all. She’d trusted Mara, and Mara had betrayed her, just to satisfy her own appetites. Mara had never felt more ashamed of herself in her life - in the end, after all the words, she’d done the very thing she’d despised Isard for. “Seven-“

“Do not speak to me,” Seven said sternly.

Mara wet her lips. “I’m really sorry.”

“Your sorrow is irrelevant,” Seven said harshly. “It does not undo what you did to me.”

Mara’s jaw trembled. “I know,” she said quietly.

“Leave my presence,” Seven said. “I will endure the ministrations of the machines... it is preferable. At least I can take a small comfort in knowing they take no pleasure in my ordeals.”

Tears slipped out of Mara’s eyes. “I’m sor-“

“IRRELEVANT!” Seven roared at her.

Mara had suffered all manner of injuries in her life, been violently interrogated, tortured beyond human limits, and not just with tickling. But Seven’s single word and look reached inside and struck her with more agony than any mere machine or instrument ever could. And Mara Jade, the Emperor’s Hand, turned away and wept as guards led her out of the room. Whatever fate they had planned for her, she knew she deserved all of it and more.

Part 10


Mara looked up and saw Seven before her. She knew she was dreaming because Seven didn't have her implants. Even still, she couldn't bring herself to look at her. "What happened?" Seven asked. She knew, of course; this girl could see right into Mara, even when she’d prefer she couldn’t.

Mara closed her eyes. “I was compelled to tickle you,” she said. “You told me I should... but I went too far. I... I couldn’t help myself. Tickling you is so arousing I just- just lost control. You begged me to stop, but I didn’t, not until I satisfied my own desires. And you were upset with me, and rightly so.” Mara’s shoulders shook with tears. “I think I love you, Seven... and I ruined everything!”

Seven stepped forward, wrapped her arms around her, and let Mara cry on her shoulder for a while. When it was done, Mara looked up into her face and wiped the tears away. "Do you know why the me out there is so different than the me in here?" Seven asked. "Because of what she's been through. Do you know what the Borg did, Mara?" Mara shook her head. "They captured me when I was just a little girl, and they took me away. They transformed me, and put machinery into my body, and then they put things into my mind." Mara looked up into Seven's face and saw grief there. "And I stopped being a little girl. I became Borg, my only thoughts those they wished me to think. I ceased to be an individual person, Mara, and became part of a group mind, raised by people incapable of feeling emotion."

"I'm... sorry," Mara said, because she had no idea what else she could possibly say.

"She's scarred, Mara," Seven said. "And not just on her body... it's the ones inside that have done the most damage. She is prideful, she'll deny it, but trust me, underneath it all is that little girl. That's why she's so upset, Mara. As strong and smart and skilled as she is, she wants someone to protect her... not to have to do it, but just to know they'd be willing to, that they cared enough to want her to always be safe. What happened told her that you wouldn't protect her, because you wouldn't protect her from yourself."

Mara looked away, feeling incredibly guilty. "What can I do?" she asked. "Please, I'll do anything. If I let her tickle me as much as she wants, will it help? I’ll do it! She can tickle me ‘til I piss myself if it’ll make up for what I’ve done!”

"Maybe," Seven said. "But in truth, I love you as much as you love me. You just have to prove it to her, Mara. Just show her how sorry you are, how important she is to you.” She brushed some hair out of Mara’s eyes. “Show her you’ll always keep that little girl safe.”

Mara opened her eyes, and it was morning, and the guards were waiting. They grabbed her as usual and led the way into a room with two bunks; Seven was already there. “We need to conserve space,” said the voice from nowhere. “I’m afraid you two are going to have to find a way to get along.”
--------------------------------------------------------------

Seven took one look at Mara, then without a word, turned and laid on the bunk facing away from her. She was still angry. When she saw that Mara was a real person, she wondered if maybe they... it had been foolishness. The real Mara was nothing like the one she dreamed of. This one was cold and merciless.

Seven felt a hand touch her gently on the shoulder. “Seven?” Mara said softly. Seven shrugged the hand off. “Seven I truly am sorry for what I did. It was terrible and I feel very guilty.” Seven closed her eyes and said nothing. “Would you like to tickle me? Would that make up for it?”

Seven rolled back over and looked at her. “I am stronger than you,” she informed Mara. “If I wish to tickle you I will do so; your resistance would be futile.”

Mara wet her lips. “Maybe you should,” she said. “I deserve it. Honestly, I can’t tell you enough how much I hate myself for what I di- did.” Seven was surprised to see the tears in Mara’s eyes. “Please, Seven,” Mara begged. “Whatever I have to do, whatever you want to do to me, I just want to make this beh-better.” She covered her eyes, visibly shaking with tears. “Tell me how to make this better!”

Seven sat up on the bunk. She’d never imagined anyone could react that way to her. And as she watched her, she was reminded so much of how the Mara in her dream made her feel. “Why?” Seven asked finally.

Mara was sobbing. “Be- Be- Because I- I love you!” She grabbed onto Seven and cried deep sobs. “Please, Seven,” she cried. “I’m so sorry I did that to you, please! I’ll do anything for you, anything!”

Seven closed her eyes, and despite her Borg nature, she was unable to resist shedding a few tears herself. No one had ever shown that kind of need for her before, and... and she so wanted Mara to want her. Despite what had happened, she did feel the same way towards her, and she didn’t want to lose her. “It is my understanding,” Seven finally said, “that to love is to not bind someone to obligations, but to hope they are done out of compassion.” She pushed Mara out so that they could look one another in the eyes. “You say you love me... very well. Then all I ask is that you demonstrate the truth of your remark.”

Mara took a deep breath, her eyes red from crying, cheeks still stained, but a sign of hope on her face. “H-how?”

“Select an appropriate means,” Seven said. “I confess that I am unfamiliar with relationships... I will place myself in your hands, but if you breach my trust again, Mara-“

“Never,” Mara promised. “I’ll never do it again, I swear it.”

Seven swallowed. “Then I will trust you.”

Mara looked her up and down, then a smile spread across her grief-stricken face. She laid Seven back on the bunk and crawled on top of her, kissing her lips as she did so. Seven closed her eyes... they felt even more wonderful than they had in the dream. She felt Mara’s hands on her body, and she stiffened a little in anticipation, but they were gentle. They moved up Seven’s body and began massaging her breasts, gently but deeply, until Seven offered a quiet moan of contentment. Mara kissed her lips a few more times, then kissed her way down Seven’s chest and began applying her mouth to Seven’s right nipple. Seven sighed with pleasure as Mara worked, then reached down and began running her fingers through Mara’s beautiful long hair. Her breath quivered. “Mara?”

Mara looked up. “Yes?”

“I... I am...” She floundered. “It is difficult for me to say those words... I do not know why, but...” She stopped. “I share your feelings.”

Mara’s brow furrowed. “You’re empathic?”

“No.” Seven was embarrassed.

Realization clearly dawned on her face. “You mean... you love me?”

Seven hesitated. “Yes,” she said softly.

Mara’s jaw shook as she smiled, then launched herself back into it fully, causing Seven to groan with pleasure. She felt Mara’s hand slide between her legs and begin touching her intimately, and Seven found herself instinctively moving to make it easier. She laid back, eyes closed, groaning and saying Mara’s name over and over as she felt the sensations coming together in her body like fuses moving inexorably towards passionate explosion, and when it came she let out a cry and collapsed onto the bunk, Mara kissing her body all the while.

Seven eventually sat up and looked Mara in the face, cocking her head this way and that. “I must confess something,” she said eventually. “I look at you and I cannot help but think in your position, I might have faced similar temptation.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Seven said. “I witnessed your interrogations, and I confess that the sight of you being tickled is highly stimulating.”

“Seven,” Mara said with a giggle, “are you asking if you can tickle me?” Seven looked a little embarrassed. “It’s okay. Let me be honest... I think that sounds like a lot of fun.” She kissed Seven’s cheek. “But don’t overdue it please... even though I deserve it.”

“My sexual desires have been sated,” Seven said. “And should this result in a second need for release, I am certain you would be willing to provide it without necessitating tickling you excessively.”

Mara chuckled a little. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Seven, but you talk funny.” She gave her another kiss. “How should we do this?”

“Stand up.” Mara complied, and Seven sat on the edge of the bed. “Now sit here,” she indicated her lap.

“Oo, interesting,” Mara teased. She wiggled her butt a little as she settled into place; the sensation was surprisingly arousing. “Now what?”

Seven wrapped her arms around Mara. “You are now incapable of moving.”

“If that’s how you want to play.”

“No, it is a statement of fact.”

Mara tried to get up but couldn’t budge. “By the Sith, Seven, how strong are you?”

“Approximately three times your strength,” Seven said. Mara struggled harder, but couldn’t move. “As I said, if I wish to tickle you, you will have no say.”

“Wai- wait a second,” Mara said nervously. “I thought this was just going to be a little playing around.”

“I am Borg, I do not ‘play.’ If I choose to tickle you, it will be long,” Mara stiffened, “and thorough,” she could sense the nervousness, “and without mercy.”

“O- Okay Seven,” Mara said. “Fun’s fun, but-“

“You are now my tickle slave.”

“Maybe we should just cuddle?”

“You sound apprehensive, Mara.”

“You’re kind of scaring me here, Seven.”

“I thought you wished to be tickled.”

“I changed my mind.”

“It is merely play,” Seven stated.

“Huh? I thought you said you don’t play.”

“It was my understanding that during such play humans will lie in a spirit of fun, that it introduces an element of fantasy that enhances the sexual experience. It was not my wish to frighten you.”

“Well, I’m not frightened,” Mara said, then screamed.

“Then you are a fool,” Seven said as she dug her fingers into Mara’s ribs. “Because you are in the unyielding grip of a Borg who only desires to listen to you laugh in ticklish torment. Fear would be an expected response.” She dug into the ribs and Mara howled. “Clearly I must teach you to be afraid.”

“HAHAHAHA! I’m afraid! I’m afraid!!!” Mara shouted before descending into a flurry of laughter. She squirmed about on Seven’s lap, which only made this even more pleasurable for the Borg. She decided to up the dose a little, and Mara began struggling for escape. “STOP IT! NO, SEVEN! WAHAHAHA!!!” Seven paused, and Mara gasped for breath. “Oh, that was... intense...”

“Indeed,” Seven said. “Do you prefer short and intense or long and subtle?”

“I think subtle sounds like more fun,” Mara said. She roared with laughter as Seven wriggled her fingers in Mara’s belly.

“Too bad,” Seven remarked. “I find ‘intense’ more agreeable.”

“I DON’T! YE-HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” She flung her head back, burying Seven’s face in Mara’s hair. It smelled wonderful, and Seven showed her appreciation by tickling harder. “NO, SEVEN!” she wailed. “I CA-HAHAHA-N’T TAKE IT!!!”

A minute or so later, Seven stopped. “You may rest assured that I will not tickle you beyond your endurance,” she told the gasping Mara.

“Thank you,” Mara said.

“I would not wish you to suffer, Mara,” Seven said. “It would devastate me if I learned that were the case.”

“No, I can handle this,” Mara said. “But you’re pushing me very close to the edge.” Mara screamed with laughter as Seven put one hand to work on her belly and one on her thigh.”

“I believe that was the point,” Seven said to the writhing Mara. The feel of her soft flesh under Seven’s fingers, that perfect behind grinding into Seven’s lap, the smell of her hair, the sound of her laugh... “I find this tickling to be highly agreeable, do you not concur?” Mara could do nothing but laugh. “I believe I will indulge in this practice more often.”

Part 11


Seven opened her eyes and took in the unusual situation. First, the fact that she was awakening was one of them; Borg as a rule regenerate, and she only ever slept when no alcove was possible, as sleep was an inefficient attempt at recharging and revitalization. However, for the first time, she didn’t seem to mind, because she wasn’t alone. Mara was there with her, the two crammed onto the one small bed, with her pressed right up against Seven’s back, which was another fact she didn’t really mind. An arm was draped over Seven’s body; Seven carefully took the hand and kissed it. In response, it turned and put a single index finger to her lips, as if to kiss Seven back, then traced down her body to her breast, where the hand began offering a gentle rub that Seven really, really didn’t mind in the least. After a little while, it took hold of her nipple and rolled it, causing Seven to giggle at the tickling, but she didn’t protest.

“Good morning, lover,” Mara said, then began kissing the back of Seven’s neck.

“And to you,” Seven said back between giggles.

“Mm, this is how I want to wake up every day,” Mara said, now stroking her fingernails around Seven’s breast, causing her to chuckle at the tickling. “Warm and soft and giggly.” She started scratching gently on Seven’s belly, who quickly flinched in response and began laughing. “Very giggly.”

Mara took Seven’s arm and held it up over her head, and then began gradually exploring the entire exposed area, from her flanks up her ribs and into her armpits. There was no mistaking Seven’s laughing now as she squirmed about under the persistent tickling. And yet, she was strong enough to toss Mara off if she wished, so clearly despite her struggles she had no intention of actually stopping this.

“When will it be my turn?” Seven finally demanded amidst her laughing fit.

“This is your turn,” Mara said, going intensely at Seven’s armpit now, and the Borg girl erupted with deep belly laughs. “And if you’re a very good girl I’ll give you some more later.”

“Your hahaha comments are hehehe baseless,” Seven said through the laughter. “I- ya-haha I know you-hoohoohahaha you’d tickle me hahaha anyway!”

“What an awful thing to say,” Mara said with a mock look of shock. “Clearly you must be punished,” and she quickly released Seven’s wrist and attacked her ribs with both hands, causing Seven to roar with laughter. “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you,” she said with a sound of disappointment.

“This doesn’t hurt!” Seven protested.

“See,” Mara said, tickling away mercilessly, “I always keep my word.”

“Enough, enough!” Seven finally said, and Mara relented. She rolled over and wiped the tears from her eyes, grinning all the while. “Clearly you have become obsessed with tickling me.”

“Only because it’s the only thing I live for,” Mara said. She pulled Seven closer and began kissing her, small kisses at first, but soon they became deep and passionate. She felt that strong yet soft body pull up against her own, and she wrapped her arms around her to pull her even closer. Seven’s hand slid down her hip and around, taking hold of her behind and squeezing it while pulling Mara into her. After a while it ended and they laid back, Mara occasionally running her hand along Seven’s face. “I can’t believe I could find someone like you,” she said. “And here of all places.”

“It is... unexpected,” Seven agreed. “This place has done little for my positive well-being.”

Mara’s face became slightly more serious. It did remind her of some things she’d forgotten ever since she saw Seven behind that glass wall. “Listen,” she said, “I’ve been thinking a bit about our situation, and things really don’t add up here, at least for me.”

“I have noticed inconsistencies in the facts as well,” Seven remarked. “I have observed your interrogations, and you are being questioned on the construction of blasters, yet it is obvious you lack training in weapon design or construction.”

“Right, just like they keep after you to build a fusion reactor.”

“In actual fact, that is reasonable. I have the capability of providing them with such a device.” Mara looked at her with slight bewilderment. “I have merely been restraining my efforts; until I learn their intentions, it would be unwise to provide them with such technology.”

“Seven,” Mara said, unable to hide her amazement, “you mean you endured all that and you still didn’t buckle?”

Seven smirked just a little. “I am Borg.”

“You are impressive,” Mara said. “And not just in bed. But seriously, you’re right, they have to know that building a blaster is beyond my abilities, yet they insist on this; why? If they could snatch me, surely it would have been far simpler to snatch an engineer or designer, or even just a smith for that matter.”

“What is more,” Seven said, “if they truly desired such knowledge be extracted from you, there are far harsher methods of interrogation available. While the tickling has been intense-“

“At the end of the day, it’s not as bad as other things I’ve been through,” Mara agreed. “And anyone with the technology to bring us to wherever this place is has got to have enough brains to know that fact.”

“I would take this logic a step further: anyone with such capabilities in a society which has yet to devise effective controlled fusion is no doubt an intellectual giant. This would therefore indicate that what has happened is not being done due to error or incompetence, but by design.”

“So the interrogations, maybe even the way we’re interrogated, are part of the actual agenda?”

“That seems likely,” Seven said. “Unfortunately we possess little in the way of information, and thus are left with speculation.”

“Well, what’s the most likely?” Mara asked.

“As I said, too little information,” Seven commented. “If we take Occam’s Razor, the simplest theory that fits all the facts would be that the interrogations were the ends themselves rather than a means.”

“What, that we were put into situations and tickle tortured only to provide entertainment for others? Others that could be aware of everything we’re doing, even right now?”

Mara and Seven looked around a little.

“I suppose it’s unlikely,” Seven admitted.

“Not a chance,” Mara agreed.

“In that case,” Seven said, “then that means the interrogations were intended to accomplish some other goal, one we cannot immediately deduce, given our current level of information.”

“Any ideas?”

“Nothing worth discussing.”

“I’m open to anything,” Mara said.

“I am all too aware of that,” Seven said coyly.

Mara laughed. “I mean I’m open to any ideas you might have.”

Seven gestured dismissively. “There were two other participants as well, the blond woman, and the one with the ponytail.”

“Yes?”

“Are you familiar with the idea of beta-testing?”

“Sure,” Mara said, “you give something a shakedown test to make sure you’ve worked all the bugs out before you go it for real. You think that’s what’s going on here?”

“I know that you are a strong woman, Mara,” Seven said. “And I am Borg.”

“Which says everything,” Mara deadpanned.

“If the others are likewise strong individuals, it is possible we have been chosen to beta-test the interrogation equipment and techniques before the true target is brought in... someone who will not succumb to standard interrogation techniques.”

“Seven, that’s a stretch,” Mara said, then burst out laughing as Seven began tickling her flanks.

“Do you not pay attention?” Seven asked sternly while she tickled the squirming Mara. “I informed you of this before.” She kneaded the soft, smooth flesh and Mara was roaring with laughter. “Clearly you require discipline.”

“Stop it! Stop!” Mara begged, but Seven pushed on. She yelped, however, when Mara began fighting back, sliding her hand under Seven’s arm and wriggling in the smooth hollow. Seven had been caught off guard and momentarily relented, allowing Mara to quickly rally and launch herself at the Borg, tickling all over. Seven was laughing wildly, but she started fighting back, and the two women laid there together, tickling away all over their torsos until tears ran down both their cheeks.

“Okay, truce, truce!” Mara said, and Seven relented for a moment.

“I do not wish to stop,” Seven finally informed her. “I find this situation... stimulating.”

“I know,” Mara admitted. “There’s a lot of fun in this...” She started thinking but quickly was left screaming with laughter when Seven picked up the tickling. “Would you stop it! I’m trying to think!”

“Thinking is irrelevant, I only desire to tickle you.”

“Dammit, Seven,” Mara said, getting away only because Seven was prone. “Just let me finish!”

“That is precisely my thought,” Seven commented. “I find this simultaneous tickling and being tickled by you to be intensely arousing, and wish to explore it to its reaches.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about,” Mara said. “Just give me a second to work it out, okay?”

“Do not take long,” Seven said. “I find resisting my desires difficult.”

“Okay, fine,” Mara said. “Let’s try something simple.” She laid back on her side and raised a leg. “Slide in between me.” Seven did so, until she was groin to groin with Mara, and Mara lowered her leg. Mara took Seven’s foot by the ankle. “Now you take mine,” Mara said, and Seven did so. “I trust I don’t need to fill in the blanks.”

“No,” Seven said.

“Good,” Mara said with a grin of anticipation. “Okay, ready? Set? Tickle!” And her fingers attacked Seven’s bound foot even while Seven began working over the sole of her own. Both of them were instantly chuckling away, trying to worm their own foot away even while tickling the one they had gripped in their hands. And as they did, Seven understood Mara’s plan as the two were grinding into each other. She would have commented if she wasn’t too busy laughing her head off.

“Cootchie cootchie coo,” Mara stammered out. “Admit it, Seven! Hahahaha! You’re way more ticklish!”

Seven was having trouble responding between the laughs. “Your taunts are irrelevant! Wa-hahahaha! You are my tickle toy!”

“Hehehe, not where I’m sitting,” Mara said, relishing the experience, tickling and being tickled and squirming and moving and hearing Seven’s laughter and oh it was paradise! All of it, everything she’d had to endure since arriving in this place, was worth this experience alone to her. Seven was more than just a good ride in the sack, she was a fun playmate, with so many endearing qualities. As she laid there, laughing all the while, she looked over at Seven’s face, saw her smiling visage, and knew that she had been right. As crazy as it may have seemed, she was in love, and dammit she was happy about it! And Seven opened her eyes and looked back at her, and paused a moment in her tickling. Seven never smiled, not really, not unless she was being tickled. But as she looked at her, Mara could see that this was genuine. Seven was clearly bubbling with joy at all of this, and it made Mara a little tear-eyed; that she could actually bring those kinds of feelings in someone by her mere presence was something she’d never imagine the Emperor’s Hand ever doing.

And then amidst the rubbing and tickling, the two found release, and they laid together like that, staring at each other with smiles, because no words could ever do their feelings justice. I’ll always keep you safe, Seven, Mara promised. And then she thought, Maybe that’s what it was all about. Maybe it was all to get Mara to grow attached to this ticklish Borg girl.

Mara untangled her legs from Seven, crawled over, and snuggled close to her as she held her tight in her arms. Who cares? she thought. If that’s what they wanted, then bless ‘em, because so long as they let me keep her, I’ve more than won out in the game.

Part 12


Ms. Danoob observed the footage of Mara and Seven in silence. Ms. Harris, her aide, noted the video; she’d watched it earlier. “Seven of Nine’s confirmed our suspicions regarding her resistance,” she remarked to her superior.

“Yes, I know,” Ms. Danoob commented without turning away. “I was anticipating that. She is willful, and she desires atonement; she won’t give it up easily, but she will all the same.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ms. Harris said. “What of their plotting?”

“It’s of no importance,” Ms. Danoob said. “Seven is very intelligent and Mara is cunning, but the fact remains they’ve gone too far now; they’re devoted to each other.”

“And that is the weakness you intend to exploit?”

Ms. Danoob turned to face her. “It is an asset I intend to exploit,” she said. “But do not demean it by treating it as a vulnerability.”

“You becoming a romantic, ma’am?” Ms. Harris asked with a lopsided grin.

“I recognize its place within the human psyche,” Ms. Danoob said. “And if we’re to succeed we need to understand what goes on inside their heads. Any one of these four could reduce Crossroads Facility to slag if we slipped up.”

“It will not happen,” Ms. Harris said.

“It will not happen if we respect what it is we’re dealing with here,” Ms. Danoob said. “Make no mistake, we are playing with fire here, and we must always remember to respect it. Tamed, and it transforms our society from hairless apes into manipulators of nature itself. But when we lose control, it can reduce an entire city to ruin.” She turned back to Mara and Seven. “What they have will benefit them and us; it will make us all stronger. Do not call such a thing a weakness.”

Ms. Harris was quiet. “Of course, ma’am.”

Ms. Danoob switched off the monitor. “But enough of the Hand and the Borg, I should really check in on our two other guests.”
--------------------------------------------------------------

Consciousness slowly returned with a creepy discomfort, and when it fully coalesced Starbuck knew the reason for that feeling. She was locked in the Block; she should have expected it, given how her other sessions had gone. She pounded on it a few times in frustration, but it was very solid; she didn't have much hope.

"Kara," the voice said, and Starbuck glowered at the emptiness. "Glad to see you're awake. It's time for you to answer a few questions."

"I already told you everything!" she shouted in frustration. "This is pointless!"

"We'll be the judges of that," the voice replied with neither rancor nor sympathy. "You recovered and piloted a Cylon Raider; we want to know how it works."

"And I told you everything I was able to figure out," she said with clear impatience. "

"It's not enough."

"Well I can't tell you what I don't know! Ask the fraking Cylons, they built the damn things!"

"I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us."

"Gods dammit!" Starbuck screamed. "What does it take to get through to you?!!"

"We need answers, Kara."

"I can't help you!"

"No, Kara," the voice said sadly. "You can't help yourself."

There was the unpleasant hum of the Block warming up. “Dammit, get me out of this!” she cried.

“We’ll start at level two, I think,” the voice said. “Please consider cooperation, Kara... we really don’t enjoy this.”

Starbuck stiffened as she felt the first touches. Oh no, the feet. She should have known they’d start there, where she was so damn ticklish! She began snickering as a probe drew little circles in the centers of her soles, just slow enough to draw it out, just quick enough to tickle like crazy! After a short while they began to expand outward in a spiral, taking in more and more of the sole while Starbuck fought to resist the sensations. As always, it was hopeless; the tickling always was impossible for her to ignore. A few seconds passed, and a second set of probes on each foot began, and she screwed her eyes shut and fought to endure. That was what these sessions were always about, the endurance. There was no way she could be harmed by this, the question was how much her will was going to crumble under their ministrations, because if it started, there was no telling where it might bring her. She could wind up some brainwashed slave or something, and she didn’t fight her way out of the darker places of Caprica and resist Cylon annihilation just to crumple before mere tickling.

Yet, as the four probes worked over her feet, it was hard to attach the word “mere” to the sensations they produced. It cut through her resolve like a blade and struck the core of her being, where the squirming girl always was hidden under the tough façade. Anything that could do that wasn’t “mere” anything.

A third probe began working each foot now, this time focusing more upon the toe area. They stroked along the base of each one, or teased the area in between, and Starbuck’s laughs had become deep and constant now, and she held her head in her hands as she tried to resist. Having her arms freed really did make this even more torturous; she was just as helpless as she always was, but she didn’t feel helpless with her hands at the ready, it messed with her head. Which, of course, was probably exactly the point. But she couldn’t really think about it; focusing on any thought simply proved impossible, the tickling pulled her mind away from higher thought and focused its attention on her helpless feet.

A small cry escaped as she felt a downy end slide into her navel. “Oh no, no NO! HAHAHAHA!!!” she squealed as it began spinning inside her bellybutton, tickling her inhumanly. Inhumanly... of course it was inhuman, it was machines tickling her, no different than when she was in the hands of a Cylon, except that these were an extension of a human will rather than operating of their own volition. The probes on her feet, the feathery probe in her navel, they gained nothing by tickling Starbuck out of her mind, they only did it because someone else saw fit to turn them on a member of their own species. That was the thing that always drove her mad; Cylons never turned on each other the way humans would. Number Six wouldn’t tickle torture Boomer, but other people had no problem driving Starbuck out of her skin with this constant, omnipresent tickling that she just wished she could get them to stop. She began pleading, desperate, because she knew it was going to get worse, knew that they were easing her into the entire affair, and she couldn’t handle this stuff any more. The walls were crumbling, damn them. Fight it!

Probes started stroking the backs of her thighs, and she knew she’d finally met something she couldn’t fight. Her own physical vulnerabilities were something she couldn’t hope to conquer. She was ticklish, damn ticklish, and it was a weapon that would be exploited until they got what they wanted from her. She’d still fight, but as she laughed her head off she knew down deep that it was a fight that she would ultimately lose. She’d beaten the Cylons, but these machines could beat her, because someone far more devious than any robot commanded them.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Lara let out a deep and frustrated sigh. The rack... it always came back to the rack. Curse her ticklish body and making her worst spots so easily accessible by this infernal device! “Lara?” came the voice. “You’re stubborn refusal to cooperate is growing quite tiresome.”

“I’m not interested,” Lara said sharply. Whoever ran things here didn’t have much of a flare beyond that of the typical megalomaniacs she’d dealt with, but there still were signs that they weren’t stupid. She couldn’t afford to underestimate them, or else the odds of her escaping would diminish.

“Very well,” the voice said with a sound of resignation.

Panels slid back on the rack, and instruments emerged. Lara closed her eyes and stiffened her body, her iron clad will standing ready to weather this latest assault. She would be embarrassed, there was no doubt of that, but she would do her damndest to not give a single inch she didn’t have to.

The feathers started in her armpits, and she went from giggling to chuckling to laughter within twenty seconds. She never bothered fighting the laughter; she’d have better luck trying to give up blinking than to stop laughing when tickled. Pour your energy into the laughter, she told herself even as she shook under the tickling touches. Give it all an outlet so you can find a way to cope! More feathers started on the bottoms of her feet, and she began roaring now. They weren’t playing with her, that was certain; this was an effective assault on her worst zones and that meant...

Lara began bellowing with laughter as they began stroking around her breasts, now hitting three bad spots simultaneously. Control yourself, she said even as she was screaming, don’t-

“STOP! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! NO NO NONONONO-HAHAHAHA!!!”

Nope, it was too much. They teased along the ball of her foot and the arch. They swirled around her nipples and stroked the sides of her breasts. They drew along the length and breadth of her underarms. They tickled her, and Lara was unable to resist them, or the desperation it drove her to. “NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE HAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Feathers began tracing along her taut belly while more teased around her pubic area, but while they assaulted her three worst spots these were just so much background noise. Lara screamed and cursed and struggled even though her body was stretched out to its limit, without even the slightest room for it to give. She smacked the back of her head against the boards of the rack in an attempt to let out her frustrations; if she didn’t she’d start begging, and she couldn’t have that. Hold on! “LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN THING! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” She trembled with laughter. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” Internally she winced at the words. Nice one, Lara; and you accuse others of melodrama? Just call them a “fiend” now, then you can put on a costume and fight crime.

“Lara,” the voice said, speaking up so as to be heard over the laughter, “you can end this, you know. Just help us and you’ll make the tickling stop.”

Lara held her head back. “HAHAHAHAHA NOT A CHANCE!!! HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!”

“You’ll gain nothing by fighting us, Lara.”

“BUGGER OFF! YE-HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Lara began really laughing now as the tickling intensified, going after her armpits, feet, and breasts with even more vigor than before. Her eyes were sealed shut even as the tears escaped them, her body turned nearly crimson, but still inside she hung on. She was Lady Croft; she wasn’t going to let them win. They could tickle her until she was a complete pitiful mess, but she wouldn’t knuckle under for them. If the forces of nature couldn’t destroy her, no force of humanity had a chance.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Danoob tapped her lips as she watched Lara on the monitor. "She's resistant," she commented, "even by the standards of the others. I wonder if we moved her into phase 2 to quickly."

Ms. Harris looked her over. "I think she'll crack, ma'am. Just give her time."

Ms. Danoob stared for a while longer. "No, that would be a mistake. We need to up the ante, as it were. Show her the seriousness of the situation, and why she had best cooperate."

"The Block, ma'am?" Ms. Harris asked.

"No," Ms. Danoob said. "We need to take more drastic steps." She tapped her lips again as she watched the monitor. "Tomorrow she goes into the boa."

Part 13


Lara opened her eyes and discovered that what she had thought were unpleasant restraints had finally met their match. Her current predicament was worse than any of the previous as far as the visceral element, and while she'd found herself in many a difficult spot over the years, she still had the slightest sensation of terror pass through her.

It wasn't from the tickling, although she wasn't too crazy about that. After the long weeks it had started to take the edge off her willpower and left her struggling to maintain her normally rock-hard resolve in the face of her situation. But still, it hadn't broken her yet, or even reached the point where she awaited it with terror. As far as she was concerned, such a day would never come.

But what did manage to shake her resolve was the position she found herself in. For starters, her head was locked tight by a ring that wrapped around her forehead. As they say, it was a vise-like grip: tight, unyielding, inescapable. Likewise there was a brace for her chin like patients with neck injuries might sometimes wear. Between the two of them, her head was completely immobile.

Her arms were behind her back, palms together, and lashed flush with one another, pulling her shoulders back and forcing her to arch her back a bit. Her legs were lashed together as well, her toes locked in small grooves that held her tip-toe off the floor.

The neckbrace itself was unusual, unlike any she’d ever seen. It was padded, of course, but minimally. Rather than being made of cheap mass-produced materials, it was clearly made of metals chosen for maximum strength per weight, meaning that while the device was able to resist all of Lara's will, it had very little actual weight or volume to it, so that it was mostly just a couple braces at each shoulder and some bars. They were also connected to the ring on her head, based upon what she could deduce from her surroundings. It stretched her neck out too; leaving her with no room to even slightly move her head, neck, or shoulders. Coming off the contraption was a cable running straight up, supporting most of her weight. Likewise, a cable coming off the lashings held her legs down, stretching her out.

Lara's eyes swiveled about. This was a lot of trouble to go to, and that probably meant that these people had decided to take things to the next level with her. She swallowed. That was what was most uncomfortable part of all this; what did they have in mind? Of course, she had a general suspicion, but obviously this wasn't the usual fun and games. This made the Block look downright jolly.

The door opened, and a woman entered, and when she spoke, Lara recognized the voice. "Hello, Lara," she said. "I'm Ms. Danoob, the head of this facility. I thought it was time I spoke with you face-to-face."

"Let me out of this contraption," Lara said with a voice like liquid nitrogen.

"Not going to happen," she said plainly. "You've been here for some time, and yet you refuse to cooperate with us."

"That's right," Lara said darkly.

Ms. Danoob smiled, but it wasn't very pleasant. "I get the feeling you're not taking me seriously. That's part of the reason for this. I want to make sure that I have your undivided attention."

"Oh you do," Lara said. "And believe me when I say that if you're very, very lucky you'll only live to regret it."

"See, this is what I mean," Ms. Danoob said. "All the bravado and hostility rather than simply accepting the reality of the situation."

"This isn't the first dungeon I've found myself in," Lara said, "and you can rest assured that it won't be the first I won't find a way out of."

Ms. Danoob offered another smile, this one filled with condescension. "As I said, I don't think you're taking me seriously here, Lara. None of your contingency plans have prepared you for Crossroads Facility, unless you've developed some kind of interdimensional technology we're unfamiliar with." Lara wore a poker face, so Ms. Danoob pressed on. "You're not in your own reality, Lara. None of your preparations are in place here to deal with your capture. We have also relieved you of any carefully hidden means of trying to escape yourself. The facility is not inescapable, but for all intents and purposes, you will not be leaving it unless I allow it."

"We'll see," Lara said coldly.

"Yes, we will." Ms. Danoob walked up and run a fingernail up Lara’s belly; Lara didn’t react, but it was only by sheer force of will. It was a mistake, though, not to allow herself to tense, because when the finger traced back down a single laugh forced itself through her teeth. “You’re so ticklish, Lara,” Ms. Danoob said. “But you fight me, as if somehow that fact can change. It can’t; being a ticklish girl is part of who you are, and the sooner you recognize that, the sooner you’ll accept that your surrender is inevitable. Your resistance serves no purpose, Lara. You’re not going to escape, your will is going to be broken eventually; the only thing your fighting does is draw out how long you must suffer our ministrations.” She started scratching lightly at Lara’s belly, and despite herself Lara was chuckling. “See what I mean?”

“Bugger off,” Lara growled.

“I’ve had you bound this way to teach you a little lesson about vulnerability,” Ms. Danoob said. “Your armpits, your inner thighs, your knees are all very ticklish spots, and yet I’ve positioned you so that access to them is impossible; this is by design.” She ran the nails of both hands up over Lara’s rear, and she trembled and laughed. “Oh, of course, I can get at some of your other prized spots.” She lightly scratched the undersides of Lara’s breasts, and her eyes screwed shut as the laughter forced itself past her teeth. “But I’m not going to,” she said as she relented.

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” Lara said with restrained rage.

Ms. Danoob looked Lara over. “That may be true.” She looked into her eyes, and just the faintest hint of a smirk reached her lips. “But it won’t be today.” She interlaced her fingers and twisted them out, cracking the knuckles loudly. “Now... let’s start small, shall we?”

Lara was surprised when she reached for her head, and for a moment she wondered if Ms. Danoob was removing the restraint. Instead she felt the nails on the sides of her ears. They stroked very gently, and despite herself Lara was giggling at the touch. It became chuckling, and she tried in vain to move away, but her head couldn’t budge in the slightest. The hairs were rising on the back of her neck, and Lara closed her eyes and fought hard to try and resist; her damn ears?! What next?! She found out, because with simple movements she slipped from the ear to just behind it, and now Lara was laughing. “Stop it!” she protested, and her laughter turned to wailing as gradually she began running down from behind the ears all along her stretched neck. Oh God! she thought. Is there any place I’m not ticklish?! “No! NO! HAHAHAHA!!!”

“You are a ticklish girl, Lara,” Ms. Danoob said, never pausing in her movement from under the jaw all the way down to the shoulder. “Accept it.” Lara shook with laughter. “Better yet, embrace it.” Her fingernails danced all along the sides of the neck, and Lara wanted to somehow launch her head away from her body to escape it. “It’s okay to be ticklish, Lara,” Ms. Danoob said. “It’s not weakness... on the contrary, you’ve already seen what it can give you.”

“Fuck off! BWA-HAHAHAHA!”

Ms. Danoob sighed. “You are such a stubborn girl.” And this time when the hands reached the shoulders, they didn’t stop, and ran right onto Lara’s collarbones.

Lara’s eyes sprung open and the air emptied from her body like she’d just been kicked in the gut. It lasted only a second, and then she began bellowing with laughter. “OH GOD! NO! STO-HAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

“Stop?” Ms. Danoob asked, tickling the collarbones without mercy. “Why should I do that? Are you a ticklish girl, is that why I need to stop?”

“YES!” Lara cried. Anything to make it end!

“Good,” Ms. Danoob said, though she did nothing to relent. “You’re taking your first step, but you need to learn and remember. It’s all too easy for you to say it now, with the sensations so fresh. But later, when you lie in your bed and remember the touch, I want you to look back and admit to yourself that what you said wasn’t under duress, but a confession of truth.”

Lara’s shoulders being pulled like they were, the collarbones were all too exposed, and she could do nothing to even slightly resist the efforts. “I ADMIT IT!” she cried. “I’M TICKLISH! I’M VERY TICKLISH! JUST STOP! STOP!!!”

“Excellent,” Ms. Danoob said. “You’re being a very good girl, Lara.” She ran back up the neck, and while it still was torture, it was practically a break by comparison. “Do you like this?”

“NO!”

Ms. Danoob sighed. “But still you are stubborn.” She stopped tickling altogether, and Lara was left gasping for air. “I knew of all the girls you would be the worst, but honestly, Lara, someone as smart as you shouldn’t be so foolish.” Lara said nothing, she just gave her a look that could have set wet mud on fire. “Tell me you loved it.”

Lara sneered. “Go to hell.”

Ms. Danoob shook her head, as if Lara were a puppy that had just wet on the kitchen floor. “You have climaxed from tickling many times, and not just when you are being tickled on an erogenous zone. What other explanation is there than the fact that deep down beneath the crusty Croft exterior a secret part of you loves being tickled?” Lara continued to give her the look of death. “Your protests are lies you tell yourself because of your pride, but there is no shame in this. Embrace the ticklish girl you are, Lara, and you will discover delights beyond your wildest dreams.”

Lara breathed through her teeth, chest rising and falling with the anger. “One day, very soon, I will kill you.”

Ms. Danoob shook her head. “No, you won’t. Your aggression is expected, and the fact that it is becoming as severe as it is tells me that you are finally approaching the point of transformation, when you’ll leave your arrogance behind and accept all that you are.” She spoke in an almost pleading way. “Lara, you will lose nothing! You will still be the brave, fearless adventurer you’ve always been, but you will also have opened yourself up to so much more. You’ve seen the others; well I’ve watched them as well. One of them is a hand-to-hand master that even you don’t have a chance of beating, and another can pick you up and toss you across the room if she wished, yet they both have embraced this aspect of themselves. You can too, Lara.”

“If they have,” Lara said, “it just means they’re weak.”

“Weakness is a point of view,” Ms. Danoob said. “Is it weakness to resist solely because we fear what we will become?”

“What I fear becoming is someone’s willing plaything,” Lara said bitterly.

“Lara, Lara, Lara,” Ms. Danoob said. “You remain so very stubborn. I’ve given you a sampling of just how ticklish you are, even in places you no doubt never considered. Yet still you deny your nature.” She shook her head and walked away, and as she did, panels opened around the room, and Lara knew what was coming. She swallowed and tried to remain strong, but she knew it was pointless.

They struck, quickly and without warning. First were the feathers on the soles of her feet, quickly followed by the ones on her belly. After that, they went for her ears and the sides of her neck. Claws worked over her behind while others descended on her collarbones. There was stroking behind her knees, and feathering across her breasts, and Lara couldn’t even find the breath to plead for mercy. They tickled her until she blacked out, and when she awoke, they went right back at it. But she fought on, because she wouldn’t let them beat her, wouldn’t let them prove they were right about her. Yet, though she hated to admit it, there was a little feeling down in the pit of her tummy that was... It didn’t matter; she was Lara Croft, and no one beat her, ever!

Part 14


Mara awoke and looked at Seven, which was typical. But they weren’t in bed, which was less than typical. “We have been drugged,” Seven informed her, immediately getting to the point, because that was Seven’s way.

“So I see,” Mara commented. They were both locked in the Blocks; it wasn’t the most comfortable of positions. “I’ve never been in these before, have you?”

“No,” Seven said. “Merely the observations of others.”

“Why are we here together, do you think?” Mara asked. “They never interrogated more than one of us at a time before, and we’ve already thrown that whole thing into question.”

“I do not believe we have enough information yet to form a reasonable hypothesis,” Seven said.

Mara looked the Block over; there didn’t seem any way to escape it, and she could feel her lower body was firmly held in place by various restraints. “Think we can get out of this thing?” she asked.

“Theoretically, yes,” Seven said, “though I fail to see the point.”

Mara gaped at her. “The point is that we could escape. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fill of this place.”

“Agreed,” Seven said. “However, escape is tenuous. It is apparent that neither of us are home, and the means to bring us here is likely carefully guarded.”

“I don’t care about home,” Mara said. “My home was...” Mara thought about it. It was never a home, just a place where she had lived, waiting for the Emperor to send her out to kill someone. That was far from any kind of reasonable definition for the word, and with the Emperor dead it held even less appeal. “Wherever I’m with you, that’s home,” Mara said.

“Then that would mean we are home now,” Seven observed.

“You know what I mean,” Mara said with slight exasperation.

“While your sentiment is admirable, that changes little. We have no knowledge of our whereabouts; in all probability we will escape only to be recaptured, and most likely punished for our defiance.”

“I don’t care, they can punish me all they like.”

“Perhaps punish us by separating us,” Seven said.

This drew Mara up short. “Okay, you have my attention.”

“We require further information before we can consider escape in any form. Until that time, we must simply endure their punishments as the necessity of the situation. I assure you that I chafe at the thought as much as you do, yet there is no logical alternative. Until we can formulate a complete plan of escape, we dare not risk their wrath.” She took Mara’s hand. “You are the only thing I have found that has made this place tolerable; I cannot risk losing you.”

Mara smiled and squeezed the hand. “I’m glad one of us has got brains, though that isn’t going to make this easy.”

“Ladies,” came the voice, and they quickly let go of each other’s hand. “It’s all right, Mara, Seven, we know all about this, and we won’t separate you if we don’t have to. In fact, as you can see, we’ve decided to allow you two to work together on this. More economical this way.” Seven’s Block slid forward, rotated, and came back until it was up against Mara’s and the two were facing each other. “This will be a standard affair, except that you both will have the opportunity to stop your torment by offering us what we need, and you both know what that is.” Mara wet her lips; Seven took a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ll see reason eventually.”

There was a quiet buzz, and Seven and Mara both began giggling. A single feather was running up and down the soles of both feet, teasing them. They looked at each other in mutual embarrassment; being ticklish was all fine and good and had added a fun element to their relationship, but that was within the confines of their love for each other. Outside, it was a reminder of the fact that they were at someone else’s whim. Yet they had to admit that this wasn’t as bad as it often was, but that soon changed. More feathers began attacking Seven’s soles, and she started chuckling, then laughing, but all Mara did was giggle at the relatively weak tickling of her own feet. Brushes began moving in now, and Seven was shrieking with laughter.

Mara took Seven’s left hand in her right and squeezed it, and Seven’s eyes opened, though her laughing never abated. “I’m here for you,” Mara said through her own giggles, and Seven nodded. Still, it was hard for her; the machines were literally tickling every square inch of her soles, heel, ball instep, even the toes, leaving Seven wailing in ticklish agony. “Just hang in there,” Mara said, wishing she could do something, because the truth was that she was getting turned on watching Seven, just like she always did. She felt guilty about that, but it couldn’t undo the tightening in her belly and the burning in her chest at the sight of the laughing girl.

Mara jumped, or would have if she wasn’t held in place. The Block had begun a secondary assault on her behind. A single feather circled her asshole, then slowly drew up her crack and circled one cheek. Mara was chuckling now, but it soon turned to belly laughs when the machine began pinching her full cheeks randomly. She wiggled her butt just a little in an effort to escape, but it did nothing to deter them, and Mara found more and more forces being brought to bear against her there. “Stop it!” she cried, before her laughter began to truly intensify, her butt being pinched and feathered mercilessly.

Seven was still laughing, but her foot tickling had toned down substantially, enough that she could open her eyes and take in the sight of Mara. She squeezed the hand that still held hers, and Mara gripped it tightly, as if to help her endure this. Seven’s heart went out to her, but like Mara, watching her lover get tickled like this couldn’t help but arouse her. She was surprised to admit it, but coupled with that sight her own light tickling seemed less torturous, almost stimulating.

Now Seven felt the intensity increase again as the tickling began on her tummy. They were delicate prods at first, coupled by some brushes exploring her navel. She sucked her stomach in, but it was hopeless; not only could the machines simply move to make up for it, but she couldn’t hold it for long under the constant tickling; her laughter forcing her to breathe and letting them get her belly even worse than it had been before.

For Mara, the next targets were her inner thighs. The machines delicately pinched their way up starting at the knee and finding their way up to her groin, then back down again. Mara pounded the top of the Block, but it didn’t stop. It started coming up again and she howled in feeble protest. Between that and her behind she was starting to lose control, and despite the fact they’d both emptied their bladders before arriving she still wondered if she was going to piss herself somehow. It seemed like her tummy was the center of an earthquake zone as she shook with laughter, wishing it would all just stop. And still, overlaid over her own protests was the sound of Seven’s own laughter, adding its own element to the mix.

The Block expanded to Seven’s flanks now, poking regularly, each one causing the Borg girl to jump and shriek. Despite the intensity of all the tickling it still somehow managed to overwhelm her and get a reaction. And as it happened she kept hearing Mara, and finally forced her tear-filled eyes open and watched her. Mara was laughing and struggling and was... and was right there. Seven couldn’t hold herself back any more. She reached out, and to Mara’s shock grabbed hold of her breasts and began fondling them. Mara was still laughing, but the occasional sigh of contentment escaped. She reached out and began doing the same to Seven, the two laughing and squeezing while their helpless lower bodies were tickled. Seven took a nipple and rolled it in her hands, then tugged just a little, and Mara’s laughter actually stopped a moment as she gasped, enjoying the sensation. She squeezed more firmly, kneading and playing while Seven let out a trembling breath.

Someone must have been watching, because the tickling began to intensify, but Mara and Seven didn’t stop. They laughed and laughed, but still they clung to each other. Mara wrapped an arm around Seven and pulled her as close as the restraints allowed, the other hand continuing her massage. Seven in turn put a hand around Mara’s back and stroked it delicately. Even though they were both being tickled out of their wits, they stayed close to each other, laughing and smiling, yet showing every sign that they were in heaven.

After ten minutes or so, things changed again. Mara and Seven both felt the gentle stroking of feathers on their private places, and things took on a much more passionate air. Despite the laughing, Seven put her lips on Mara’s and kissed her as much as the situation would allow, and the redhead kissed back with as much relish. They squeezed and laughed and kissed while the feathers tickled around and across their womanly folds, equal parts maddening strokes and luxurious stimulations. Mara began panting, unable to even laugh any more, and her lips kissed all over Seven’s face despite the Borg’s inability to resist the tickling. Mara squeezed Seven’s breast a little more firmly to get her attention, then kissed her deeply, before both had to stop with an intense giggle-fit. “I love you,” Seven said, and Mara looked with surprise into her face. “Hehehe It has hahaha become an ea-easy thing to hahaha to say.”

Mara kissed her again, hands running all over Seven’s body as she caressed and fondled the Borg’s soft, smooth skin. She never loved or wanted her more than in that moment, and with the feel of her flesh under her hands, the smell of her, the taste of her lips, the sound of her laughter, the vision of her smiling face, Mara felt like she had reduced the universe to just the two of them, and as she did, she felt sweet release pass through her body. Her body spasmed just slightly, and it seemed to set off the same feelings in Seven. And in the wake of their climax, the two began kissing again, grateful that they had someone who could fill this spot in their lives.

It was at this point that Mara noticed the tickling had stopped altogether. She indulged in it as her lips fully explored Seven’s until she felt sated enough to release her for the moment. “Nice try,” Mara shouted to whoever might be listening, “but we’ll tell you nothing, you got that? Nothing!”

Seven shook her head a little. “I believe you have succumbed to madness,” she said with a lop-sided grin.

“I’ve fallen in love with a cyborg and I’ve come to adore tickling,” Mara said. “What other word would you use?” But before Seven could respond Mara exploded with laughter, her Block kicking into high gear.

“I cannot argue,” Seven said, and she too erupted as she felt the tickling resume. It was far more intense than it was before, but as she clung to the laughing redhead, Seven found that she didn’t seem to mind at all.

Part 15


Starbuck opened her eyes; she was back on Caprica, in the hands of the Cylons. “Oh gods,” she said, struggling to get up, only to find herself locked down onto a table. “Not again.” She yanked harder. “Not frakking again!”

“Will you stop that?” an unfortunately familiar voice asked. It was Six’s; Starbuck would know it anywhere. “The restraints are far too strong for you to escape; you’re just wasting energy.”

“Yeah, and what....” Starbuck said, turning to look at her captor, only to be shocked to see that Six was in precisely the same boat as she was. Strapped down, spread-eagle, naked as a jaybird. “What’s going on here?” she asked. She looked, and there was Boomer, likewise locked up.

“We’ve been brought here for experimentation,” Boomer said.

“By who?” Starbuck asked.

“The thirteenth Cylon,” Six said.

Starbuck glared at her. “I thought there were only twelve models.”

“Yes,” Six said. “Nevertheless, she is here, and she has decided that this tickling needs to be further explored... and unfortunately for us, we appear to be the test subjects.” Starbuck ground her teeth and began yanking at her bonds again. “I told you to stop bothering with that,” Six continued. “If we can’t escape, what makes you think you possibly could?”

“Frak off, okay?” Starbuck snarled, but a second later the door opened, and three women walked in, all looking the same. But that wasn’t what froze Starbuck to the core; it was her face.

“Ladies,” Lara said, “are we ready to begin.”

“What am I doing here?” Starbuck demanded, struggling with her bonds.

“You’re here to facilitate our investigation,” the second Lara said.

“Why me?” Starbuck demanded. “You have them, why don’t you let me go?”

“But you’ve proven such a useful specimen,” the third Lara said.

“Yes,” the first said. “You are clearly very ticklish, Kara. What we learn from you will no doubt go a long way towards filling in the gaps in our knowledge of this subject.”

“I don’t want to be tickled!” Starbuck finally shouted, having had enough of all this insanity. “I just want to go home!”

“Come, Kara,” the second Lara said, “is it really that bad?”

“Yes!” Starbuck shouted.

“As I said,” the third Lara said to the second, “a useful specimen. Perhaps we should subject her to additional sessions?”

“I agree,” the first Lara said.

The three Lara’s moved into position over the restrained trio. Without warning their fingers descended, and laughter filled the room. Boomer jumped as nails dug repeatedly and regularly into her ribs, just quick little prods that caused her to yelp and laugh. Six was getting something similar, but every time the nails came in they’d wriggle about a bit, causing her to squeal and shriek and flinch. “No! NO! HAHAHAHA!” she called after just a few seconds. Boomer was likewise protesting the repeated prods of her own ribs. But Starbuck, of course, didn’t care. They were Cylons, after all; let them suffer a little for all the suffering they brought. Besides, she was rather busy herself. Her Lara was gradually pinching her way up and down Starbuck’s ribs, barely stopping in each one, causing her to shake with deep belly laughs. “GET THE FRAK OFF OF ME! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” The tickling didn’t stop, of course; they just continued going at it, up and down the ribs, up and down. Finally she broke up the pattern, running the fingers along them, as the cliché goes, like a harp, until Starbuck was shaking her head with laughter. “STOP!!!”

As one, all three Lara’s stopped, then proceeded down the length of the tables. Starbuck sighed, knowing what was going to come next. She screamed as the nails attacked the soles of her feet, scratching rapidly all over them from top to bottom. Six was given a similar treatment, and was showing the same kind of reaction, laughing and shaking as her feet were tormented. But Boomer seemed more sensitive, because she was screaming. Her Lara had bent her toes back and was working the area right along the base, and the Cylon fought like mad to get her foot away. Lara kept it up, nails working away on it while Boomer started begging. “STOP IT! HAHAHAHA! NO MORE! NOT ON MY FEET! PLEASE THIRTEEN! PLE-HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Really, Boomer,” Lara said, “this is so unbecoming in a Cylon.” She began scratching even more furiously and Boomer’s shrieks took on a higher pitch. “Just accept the fact that you’re making a contribution to our knowledge of the species.”

“But we’re not human!” Six shouted before descending into a laughing fit. Her Lara seemed to step up the pace in response to her outburst.

“That’s no excuse,” Lara said sternly. “We all have our part to play, and this is yours.”

Eventually the three left the feet and walked up the table, this time standing over the faces of the three bound women. “We need to explore the many and varied sites,” Lara explained casually, and her fingers dropped onto Starbuck’s armpits. She laughed and thrashed as the nails scratched up and down her exposed pits.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Starbuck bellowed before an intense laughing fit hit.

“Calm down, Kara,” Lara said. “Getting angry won’t help.”

Boomer was laughing wildly now too. Her Lara had grabbed her shoulders and were working her thumbs into the hollows of her armpit with effective results. “Hehehehe stop it!” she insisted before another laughing fit hit. The little circles were clearly tickling her immensely.

Six, however, drowned everyone else out. Lara wasn’t merely scratching, she was digging in all along her armpits, down to her shoulder blade and up onto her bicep. “ENOUGH! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! NO! STOP IT!!! HOHOHOHO-HAHAHAHA!!!”

“Six,” Lara said with a click of disapproval, “you’re usually so poised. Is something wrong?”

“YE-HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA! NOT THERE! JUST STOP! WAHAHAHA!!!” Lara continued tickling up and down the armpits for a while, then started running back and forth. Six was crying now, but none of the Lara’s seemed interested in mercy for any of them, even their fellow Cylons. Six began begging pitifully for it to end, but still they pushed on, tickling the three of them until they were all flush, gasping, and covered with sweat.

“This has been interesting,” one of the Lara’s commented. “Clearly our two compatriots are capable of succumbing to tickling as well as any human.”

“Agreed,” another Lara said. “Very interesting.” She began going at Six again, who screamed a protest, then began laughing wildly; a second joined in for a short while, and Six started hiccupping with laughter. “It seems we have come a long way.”

“Yet I think there is no doubt that, when all is said and done, Kara is far more ticklish.”

“Naturally,” a different Lara said. “She is human after all.”

“So very human... so very ticklish.”

“We can learn so much from her,” a Lara said. “Don’t you agree, Kara?” Starbuck just shook her head; she was still recovering from her ordeal.

“I think we need to allow the human far more attention than she’s received,” the second Lara commented. The others agreed, and while Starbuck was gasping for breath, the three of them surrounded her. “She has proven the most useful.”

“Please,” Starbuck begged, tears in her voice, “please don’t tickle me any more, please!”

“Shh, it’s all right, Kara,” one of them said soothingly. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

“We could never hurt you,” another said.

“How could we?” the final one asked. “We love you.”

“We love you,” agreed another.

“And we love to tickle you.”

The one at her feet started; she was far gentler this time, slowly running her wriggling fingers over Starbuck’s soles. Another began slowly drawing her nails along the exposed underarms; not scratching, just grazing the surface. The third prodded her tummy with her index fingers. Starbuck laughed and shook, but even though she was getting it all over, it wasn’t as bad as it had been, not with it being toned down like this. She laughed, of course, laughed like crazy, but they remained gentle, almost caring as they tickled her. The Lara tickling her armpits looked down into Starbuck’s face. “See?” she said softly. “We would never harm you, Kara.”

“Sto-hahaha-p it.... hahahaha...” Starbuck got out, laughing quietly, eyes wet with tears after all the tickling she’d endured.

“But you don’t really mean that,” the Lara at her stomach said, still prodding gently.

“Ye-hehehe-s,” Starbuck insisted.

“You love being tickled,” Lara insisted.

“No-hohoho I don’t.”

“You don’t want to admit it,” Lara said. “But you do... you do...” Starbuck shook her head, laughing quietly still as they ran their fingers over her body. “Come on, Kara,” the one at her stomach said, moving closer to her face, “stop hiding it.” She leaned down and began softly sucking Starbuck’s right nipple even while her hand started strumming her ribs again. It was very strange, awful yet with a pleasant undertone to it.

“We love you,” the one tickling her armpits said. “And we love tickling you.”

Lara stopped sucking and looked into Starbuck’s face. “And you love us... and love when we tickle you.”

“No,” Starbuck said weakly.

“Oh come, Kara,” Lara said, running her nails down Starbuck’s rib and side as she walked down more. “Tell me that you don’t want me to do what I’m about to do.” She put a hand inside Starbuck’s thigh, but not poised to tickle. “Tell me honestly that you don’t want me to and I won’t.”

Starbuck looked at her, and her laughing stopped. She opened her mouth several times to speak, but nothing came out. Lara cocked her head, waiting, then finally slid her fingers up and-

And Starbuck closed her eyes and sighed. Lara touched her delicately, just in the right ways, stimulating her more than she’d ever expected possible. The other two continued to tickle her, and while they did, she found herself reveling in it, laughing and taking in all the touches and looking forward with glee to the next. Lara -all of her- was touching her in different ways, and the sum of them was pleasure the pilot had never experienced before. “More,” she said quietly. “Please more.”

“Do you love us?” Lara asked.

“Yes,” Starbuck insisted.

“Do you love being tickled?”

“Yes,” Starbuck said with a firm nod.

“We love you too,” Lara said, and as she did, Starbuck felt the climax come, and her jaw dropped open as it passed through her. It was so incredible and intense and... she felt Lara’s lips kissing hers, and she kissed back firmly.

Eventually their lips parted, and Starbuck opened her eyes; Lara was smiling at her. “You won’t forget this, will you?” she asked.

“No,” Starbuck insisted, shaking her head.

“Do you promise?”

“Of course.”

“Even after you wake up?”

Starbuck balked, but as she said it, it did make sense, didn’t it. “I’m dreaming?”

“Of course, silly Kara,” and Lara tickled her armpit just a little, just enough to make her giggle.

“I promise,” Starbuck finally said.

“Good,” Lara said, and she kissed her again. “Because I’m so looking forward to the chance to tickle you again.”

Starbuck nodded, smirking. “Me too.”

Part 16


Mara’s hands were locked in binders, and she was led through the facility flanked by stormtroopers. They entered the turbolift, and she looked at her reflection. Staring back was a hairless blue alien Twi’lek girl. Her lekku -brain tails, as they were sometimes called- both came out of the back of her head and hung down her back in an uncomfortable fashion; Mara always preferred to wear them over her shoulders. Still, in the hands of the Empire it was doubtful that the position of her lekku would be on her mind for much longer.

The doors opened and she was led into the interrogation center, where she was quickly stripped and secured to the table. As expected, Isard was on hand to perform the interrogation, and Mara knew just what to expect. Casually she walked up the length of the table and ran her nails down both lekku, and instantly Mara began roaring. “Oh, not there! NOT THERE! WA-HAHAHAHA!!!” A Twi’lek’s brain tails were filled with nerve endings and were highly ticklish; she’d hoped the Imperial would ignore them, but clearly it had been a false hope. “PLEASE NO-HOHOHOHO!”

Isard asked her questions, and Mara had no answers, so again and again the nails would start at the edge of her skull and slide down, wriggling as they passed along the quivering lekku while Mara screamed in ticklish torment. “I DON’T KNOW! HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” But Isard ignored her refusal, and continued to torment her lekku until they were writhing under her nails.

Finally the tickling stopped a moment, and she walked to the other end of the table. Mara looked down just in time to see her apply her nails to Mara’s feet, and it was almost as intense as it had just been. “NO! PLEASE!!!” She roared as the fingers danced up and down her exposed soles, tickling and stroking and prodding while Mara shook with laughter. “NO! NO!!! GET AWAY!!!” But Isard’s fingers danced over the blue skin and Mara couldn’t resist.

Eventually she stopped and Mara took another few deep breaths while she tried to recover, but it was only a momentary break. Isard grabbed her flanks and began kneading and tickling and Mara’s laughter bubbled out. Her thumbs wriggled into the flesh and Mara couldn’t find the air to even talk any more, she could only laugh quietly, eyes screwed shut as she wished this horrible torment would end, but knew it wouldn’t. This was inescapable; she was in the hands of the Empire, and would be subjected to whatever they wished.

The nails plunged into her ribs, causing Mara to scream. She was laughing like mad now, trying to twist her body away somehow as Isard dug all over her ribcage, quickly and brutally. “NO MORE! HAHAHAHA!!! STOP!!! I’M HAHAHA I’M BEGGING YOU! STOP!!!” But still Isard worked the ribs, up and down; not like a harp, more like she was tucking the sheet around a very tiny bed and was making sure it was thoroughly in place. Thorough; that was the only word to describe her technique. She left no rib unprodded.

After that came the armpits; with no hair there they were smooth, and Mara knew how much a tickler loves a smooth armpit. Isard scratched and prodded at them while Mara erupted with laughter. She put two fingers into each hollow and made little circles, and Mara screwed her eyes shut and held her head back, tears filling her eyes. “STOP IT!!! BWA-HAHAHAHA!!!” She couldn’t even hear Isard’s questions any more, she was laughing so much.

There was a thumping sound and Isard looked dazed, then crumpled to the floor. Standing behind her was Seven holding a blunt object; she tossed it aside. “Are you damaged?” she asked.

Mara panted a little. “No, I’ll be fine.” Seven rushed over and deactivated the restraints and Mara sat up. “Thanks; I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t arrived.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Seven said, “I do this because I love you.” And she kissed Mara’s blue lips, and pleasure passed through her. It seemed like it had been a thousand years since she last felt that kiss. Their lips parted, and Seven offered the smallest of smiles. “I always will,” she promised.

Mara flinched back with a cry of terror as a red lightsaber blade emerged from Seven’s chest. The Borg girl looked down at it, then up at Mara with a grief-stricken expression. The lightsaber was pulled away, and she collapsed to the floor, dead. Mara looked up at the figure with the lightsaber. She bore the most sinister grin, with that red hair framing her face like fire and green eyes that practically glowed. And as she looked at Mara she snickered just a little.

“Resistance is futile,” the Emperor’s Hand said.

Mara’s breath came out trembling as her eyes slipped from her to Seven’s body. Her jaw quivered as she looked back at the Emperor’s Hand. “Why?” she demanded.

“Because it is in my nature to kill,” she replied without a hint of remorse.

A sob slipped out of Mara’s lips. “But I loved her!”

“Love is irrelevant,” the Emperor’s Hand said, and two Borg assimilation tubules emerged from her wrist, like sickly gray worms. Before Mara could react she plunged them into her neck, and the transformation began. “You have been assimilated,” the Hand informed Mara while her blue skin turned peach. “Your biological distinctiveness will be added to our own.”

“No!” Mara said in despair, feeling her lekku transform into fire-red hair.

“Your life as it has been,” the Hand said, “is over. From this time forward you will service us.” Mara closed her eyes, trying to fight the change, but it was impossible. It was inside her, it was what she was, what she always had been, and what she could never, ever escape. She opened her eyes and saw the lightsaber still shimmering in her hand, and looked down at her victim.

Mara Jade, The Emperor’s Hand switched off the blade and knelt over the body of Seven, her latest victim. There was nothing she could have done to stop it. She was an assassin; pretend all she liked, but that wouldn’t change. And she looked into those sad, dead eyes, and her former lover taught her one last, horrible, painful lesson.

Mara Jade was evil.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Seven awoke to the sound of Mara weeping quietly. It was a very unpleasant sound for her; she was compelled to try to stop it, but she had learned that the nuances of human emotion were beyond her, and her simple logic was usually ineffective in combating it. She could strip down and rebuild a starship from memory, but she couldn’t stop the woman she loved from crying. “Are you damaged?” she finally asked.

“I can’t be with you any more, Seven,” Mara said.

Seven felt the breath leave her body. “Whatever I have done,” she said quickly, “I apologize. I am inexperienced in human affairs-“

“It’s not you, Seven,” Mara said. “It’s me. I’m... I’m a monster! I’ve murdered people, lots of people.” She must have seen Seven’s expression of disbelief, because she quickly looked away. “I was an assassin for the Emperor,” she said. “I killed those he couldn’t remove in other ways. Some were evil, of course, but many were simply those who opposed him, one way or another, just people doing what they thought was right.”

Seven opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Do you regret your actions?”

Mara turned back to Seven. “Never... until just now, until I realized what I’ve done. I destroy... I destroy lives and ideals and hopes and families...” She covered her eyes with one hand as she looked down, crying again. “And if I stay here I’ll destroy you too!”

Seven took a deep breath. “I cannot believe that,” she said finally. “I have come to understand you, Mara, and I see only a kind and loving woman who could never harm me.”

“You forgot what I did to you when we first met,” Mara said bitterly. “Even after you showed me kindness, I tormented you solely because it gave me pleasure.”

“And I am certain you have realized the error of your ways,” Seven said, “and have become a better person as a result.”

“And what if next time I won’t be able to see the error until after the damage is irreparable?” Mara asked. “Seven, I still feel guilty about what I did to you... if I ever hurt you... even k-“ She couldn’t even finish the word. “You’re too important to me to take that chance.”

“I can’t believe you could ever truly hurt me.”

Mara shook her head, but still she couldn’t look at her. “I was raised to be the Emperor’s Hand,” she said. “I have always been a killer, and never thought twice about it. It’s impossible for me to stop being that.”

“I cannot accept that,” Seven said sharply.

“What do you know of it?” Mara demanded. “Nothing!”

At the remark, Seven’s fear turned to anger. “You wish to compare your upbringing to mine, Mara Jade? Do you know what it is to be Borg? You murdered people, I murdered worlds, civilizations. Those whom I did not kill I violated and turned into drones for the Collective. I was a tool in the service of a cold and logical evil that swept across the galaxy.” Her breath quivered. “What do I know of it? I know that you are a rank amateur compared to me.”

“It’s not the same thing-“

“Isn’t it?” Seven demanded. “I am Borg, I consume and destroy, and when I was forcibly removed from the Collective I sought every avenue to return to them, and logically I should have been allowed to, or destroyed, but neither was done. I was introduced to human concepts that had no place within the Collective, camaraderie and individuality and love. But more than those, I learned of compassion, forgiveness, and redemption. I learned that despite the evils I had done, it was never too late for me to realize it and change for the better, to atone for my crimes and attempt to become a better person.” She took Mara’s hand. “If I, who toppled countless billions, can be redeemed, Mara, then why can’t you?”

Tears still ran down Mara’s face. “I’m so afraid, Seven.”

“I was as well,” Seven said. “But the Voyager crew offered to help me overcome my fear, and I will do the same for you. All you need do is accept it.”

Mara’s cheeks shone with the tears, but it looked radiant as she forced a smile to her face. “How can you be so good to me?” she asked.

“I believe you already know the answer,” Seven said, and she pulled her close and squeezed her so hard Mara winced, but Seven couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t live without Mara now, and she’d been terrified that she might want to leave. Seeing that she would remain with her lifted her spirits. “Now,” she said, letting Mara go, “an important part of this is trust. I must show my trust for you, and clearly there is only one possible way to do this.” She reached over and took up one of the manacles that were attached to the bed and snapped it around her own wrist.

Mara got the implication. “Are you sure, Seven?”

Seven nodded. “I will be helpless and at your mercy, and while I suspect that you will provide me with a most intense session of tickling, I believe the better angels of your nature will be evident.” She gently pushed Mara off the bed to give herself room. “Clearly the only way to solve this is for you to tickle me half out of my mind.”

Mara chuckled a little. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Seven said, and then smirked. “And I am certain that it’s what you want.”

Mara laughed. “You really do know me to well.”

Part 17


Mara pulled Seven’s leg into position and locked the manacle around it. They’d both been surprised that the beds had been equipped with them, especially since neither of them had been subjected to tickling sessions in bed by their captors, but they did prove useful for the two of them. They were the kind that didn’t require a key to unlock, and on more than one occasion Mara had voluntarily locked herself in and allowed Seven to tickle her. Seven knew just how Mara liked it, and she loved to role-play the experience, and that just made it all the more erotic. This was the first time that Seven would be the one locked up, and with good reason. The first and only time Seven had been at Mara’s mercy, Mara had blown it, big time, and despite her love and trust, it had been hard for Seven to again allow this. Mara was moved that she had finally found it in her to give her another chance, and she was committed to giving her such a pleasure-inducing tickle session that her implants would fall off.

Mara crawled back and laid beside Seven, who was now spread-eagle on the bed. No role play this time, she wanted to ease her into this. Still, this was suppose to tease... “Feeling... vulnerable?” she asked coyly. Seven had a nervous grin on her face. Mara raised a finger in the air and began wriggling it, and Seven stiffened. “It’s coming to get you,” she sang, and Seven giggled as it came towards her right underarm. “It’s coming to tickle you...” and Seven started laughing as it wriggled about in her armpit. “Tickle the little Borg girl.”

Seven laughed, but it was light-hearted and bubbly, absent of the desperation of other times. Without stopping Mara soon applied a single digit to Seven’s other armpit, and while the laughter was stronger, it remained the same bubbly sound. She was having fun, and that made this fun for Mara. She sat astride Seven and continued with the two fingers scratching away while Seven laughed and smiled.

Mara pulled her hands off and leaned down so that she was inches from Seven’s face. “Tell me you’re my tickle toy.”

Seven’s grin widened. “I confess that I am your tickle toy... for the moment.”

“Oh,” Mara said, “is that defiance?” She shot both hands into Seven’s armpits and attacked them furiously, and Seven began roaring with laughter. “You are the tickle toy, and I will abide no back talk.” Her fingers worked over the smooth, hairless skin and Seven closed her eyes and let the laughter pour out of her. “Right, tickle toy? Right?”

“YES!” Seven got out.

“Are you sorry?” Mara asked, not relenting in the tickling.

“YES!”

“You don’t sound very convincing.”

Seven bounced her head on the pillow as Mara tickled all over her armpits. “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!” She began panting as Mara finally relented. When she opened her eyes Mara was back in front of her face again.

“What are you?” Mara asked.

Seven grinned defiantly. “I am Borg.” She let out a scream as Mara went at it again.

“Seven, Seven, Seven,” Mara said with a shake of her head. “You are a tickle toy, remember?”

“Yes! YES!”

Mara stopped again. “Now,” she said slowly. “What are you?”

Seven’s chest rose and fell. “I’m Mara Jade’s tickle toy,” she said, but the tone of the voice spoke of affection.

Mara kissed her, lightly first, then a little deeper. “And toys are meant to be played with,” she said, sliding back further. She held up her hands like claws in front of Seven and wriggled her fingers and Seven giggled again. She dropped her hands onto Seven’s ribcage, but did nothing, just let them sit there in anticipation. Seven’s eyes were shut tight, teeth ground together, yet a smile was clearly there. “Are you ready?” Mara asked in a slow, taunting voice, that caused more giggles. “Are you set?” Seven was practically trembling with anticipation. “Here we go!” she said quickly, and her nails began their work on Seven’s ribs.

Seven held her head back, then shook it feverishly. There was no doubt she was as ticklish as she’d said, because it seemed there wasn’t a single place Mara could explore that couldn’t push Seven to her limits with ease. She was holding back, kneading the ribs certainly, but not as firmly or rapidly as she could, and yet Seven was starting to get flush. She stopped a moment to give her a breather, then went back to it. She held out her nails and ran them up and down the sides of Seven’s ribcage, and she began squealing with laughter. “You know,” Mara mused aloud as she continued running up and down the ribs, “I think I’m going to stop saying ‘Get ready,’ because it’s obvious you never can be. My little tickle toy’s just too sensitive.”

Mara stopped the strumming and let Seven catch her breath once again. “Hmm,” she said as she looked Seven over. “Have I told you that I love tickling your breasts?”

“I believe it has been a minimum of fifteen minutes since your last comment on the subject,” Seven said. She started snickering and it descended into belly laughs as Mara began flicking her fingers gently across Seven’s nipples.

“Just want to make sure you haven’t forgotten,” Mara commented while she quickened the pace, leaving Seven shaking with laughter. After a short while she began drawing circles around them, teasing, and leaving Seven sputtering. She changed things up, circling around the sides and causing Seven to howl, then scratching the undersides while she bellowed. “They’re just so much fun!” She began massaging a little, just enough to drive Seven out of her mind with the ticklish sensations. “I could do this all day!”

“HAHAHA I KNOW!!!” Seven shrieked. “NOW STOP IT!!! HAHAHA STOP!!!” Mara immediately relented, and gave each a little kiss of thanks while Seven panted.

Mara slid in between Seven’s legs and leaned over her, blowing on her tummy and causing Seven to chuckle at her silliness. She played on it like bongos for a moment. “Tight... you work out?”

“I am Borg, thus my biology is superior.”

“But ticklish,” Mara observed.

“But ticklish,” Seven agreed. “Truly if someone wished to torment me, my abdominal area would be a most glaring weakness.”

“You have a ticklish belly, you mean.”

“Yes,” Seven said.

“Then say it,” Mara said.

Seven smirked at her. “I will not. Your speech is crude and childish.” She exploded with laughter.

“So’s my technique,” Mara observed, wriggling her fingers in Seven’s tummy. “But it seems to work.” She ran up and down, then left and right, massaging the muscles while Seven shook with laughter. She ran down onto the flanks, then ran up and down them a while before moving back to the center of Seven’s stomach. “Now say it.”

“Never!” Seven got out amidst the laughter.

“Oh, you will break yet, little Borg,” Mara said, and she took her two index fingers and began rapidly poking all over Seven’s tummy. “Poke poke poke poke poke,” she sang. She began going up the flanks again, and Seven lurched with each one. “Oh, I don’t think you like that,” Mara commented. She dug them into the flanks again and began twisting, and Seven was wailing now. “Yes, that’s definitely a bad spot.”

“STOP IT!” Seven cried.

“Say it,” Mara said.

“STOP IT MARA!!!”

“Say it,” Mara said coyly, still twisting and poking.

“I HAVE A TICKLISH BELLY!!!” Seven finally got out, and in an instant Mara relented. She gave Seven a moment while she put a hand to her lips and looked the struggling Borg over. Yes, it was probably time for this.

Mara’s fingers gently tickled along Seven’s womanhood, and she giggled and squirmed. “You’re ticklish here, aren’t you,” Mara asked, repeating the gesture. “But I think we can find better uses for this, don’t you think... and I’m sure there are places where you are far more ticklish, like, say... here?” and Mara dug her nails into Seven’s hips. Seven let out a loud cry of laughter and Mara tickled there for a few seconds, then stopped. “Yes, I thought so,” she said seductively. She bent down and kissed Seven’s tummy, down further and further until her mouth reached Seven’s sex. She began using her lips and tongue on it even while she applied her fingers to Seven’s hips. Seven was laughing and moaning, her entire lower body writhing about from the pleasure and the tickling, and after a while it was clear that those were one in the same for the Borg girl. Mara kept at both regardless, and eventually she felt Seven spasm as the climax passed through her. She stopped the tickling and instead began gently massaging while Seven gasped. “How was that?” Mara asked.

Seven closed her eyes and shook her head. “Your skill continues to amaze me, Mara.” She took in a long, deep breath. “Thank you. You may release me now.” Mara didn’t move. “I said you may release me now.”

“Oh, I heard you,” Mara said. “I’m just wondering if it’s what I want to do.”

Seven looked down at her. “Mara, release me. Now.”

“But I have you at my mercy, Seven,” Mara said, crawling up. “That was for you, but I’m still not satiated yet. Just another hour or so of intense tickling and I’ll let you go, okay?” She saw the look of horror on Seven’s face. “It’s nothing you can’t handle, sweetie.”

“No, Mara,” Seven said, trying to sound firm.

“Oh, but Seven, you are so much fun to tickle!” Mara protested. “And I want to tickle you so bad! All over this sensitive body of yours, to watch and listen as you squirm and laugh, I yearn for it!” She reached up, and Seven stiffened in fear.

And Mara removed the restraints from her wrists. “But I’m not going to make the same mistake again,” she said to Seven. “I’m not lying, Seven; I do want to tickle you bad. But you can always trust me to follow through on what you want. You want me to release you, I’ll do it, ever time. Understand?”

Seven nodded, took Mara’s face in her hands, and pulled her close, kissing her. “I do trust you,” she said. She smiled. “You’ve forgotten my feet, of course.”

Mara nodded. “Yes, I’ll undo those-“

“No,” Seven said. “I mean that you have forgotten about my feet. They are rather ticklish, and you seemed to have neglected them in our current session.”

Mara smirked. “I guess I just forgot.”

“Yes, well, I am afraid that failure is unacceptable. The Borg did not allow it, and neither do I. You clearly must rectify this problem.”

Mara nodded. “Yes, ma’am, of course.” She crawled off the bed and went to the end of it, then began drawing her nails over Seven’s soles. Seven was laughing immediately even while Mara was just feeling it out. Her fingers wriggled about and Seven began roaring. “Like this?” she asked, but Seven said nothing, she was laughing too hard. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Seven covered her face in her hands while Mara tickled all over the bottoms of her feet. As the minutes passed she reached down and began massaging her own breasts. “You like this?” Mara asked Seven as she kept tickling. Seven nodded but said nothing, still laughing and fondling all the while. “By the Sith, I’ve created a monster,” she joked, and attacked the feet even more viciously, causing Seven to erupt with laughter. All in all, this was shaping up to be a very, very good day.

Part 18


Mara and Seven sat up as the door opened and a trio of guards came in. One had a collar; he set it on the table. "Put this on," he instructed Seven.

"What is it?" Mara asked, holding Seven back before she could move towards it.

"Just a precaution," the guard said. "The director wants to speak with Seven of Nine, but we don't want any unpleasantness. If something happens, this will administer a fast-acting sedative."

Seven started to move but Mara again held her back. "I don't trust them," she said flatly.

"If you interfere, you'll be punished," the guard warned.

"Mara," Seven said, "it's all right; if they wished they could sedate me and then put the collar on regardless. I see no need to resist."

"Haven't you been paying any attention?" Mara asked. "Everything that's done has been for some insidious purpose."

"Like putting you in my cell?" Seven asked. Mara opened her mouth to reply but could think of nothing. "They have stated the director wishes to speak with me. Perhaps I can negotiate for something from her to aid in our comforts, possibly allow us more freedom. If the requirement is to wear this device, then I will comply."

Mara glanced at the guards, then wrapped her arms around Seven. "Be careful," she said, a nervous edge in her voice.

"I will," Seven promised. Mara released her, and Seven put the collar on. She was provided a robe for modesty and was led out the door and through the halls. They brought her to a woman with a clipboard who was speaking with some kind of technician. She shooed him off when she saw Seven approaching.

"Hello, Seven," she said. "I'm Ms. Danoob, the head of this facility." Seven nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. "Leave us," she told the guards. "You are a civilized and intelligent person, Seven," she said as the guards left. "I assume you're not going to try anything while you have that collar on, yes?"

"Resistance is futile," Seven said through her teeth.

"Ah," Ms. Danoob offered a brief clap, "very good. Yes, I suppose in some ways we are like the Borg, but that's neither here nor there. Come," she gestured up the hall and the two began walking. "You're the most intelligent by far of those we've obtained, so it seemed best to address you directly and let you in on the situation. Contrary to what appearances might have suggested, we haven't been tickling you just for its own sake, we do have a larger plan in place."

"You have kidnapped me," Seven said flatly. "Whatever your plan is is irrelevant; you are compelling me to action. If you are intelligent, you would realize that I would be inclined to resist you if you chose these methods, therefore the only possible reason you have gone to these lengths is because this is something you know I would not help you with."

"Not at all," Ms. Danoob said. "You already know what we want: a working fusion reactor. This is the why."

Seven looked up. They'd stepped into a massive room filled with all manner of equipment, but most prominent was a large rectangular chamber connected to equipment even Seven couldn't identify. However, she was quite good at deductive reasoning. "This is the device you used to bring me here."

"And the others," Ms. Danoob said. "This isn't your universe, Seven, or theirs. I figured out a way to pass through the boundary into other realms, but it wasn't easy." She gestured to the door. "The Gate is the center of Crossroads Facility - a rather good name, if I do say so myself."

"You do," Seven said.

"Ah, that Borg wit," Ms. Danoob said. "In case you haven't pieced it together, here are the details of the situation. Crossroads Facility is on an island quite far from prying eyes, so we have some autonomy. This is the early twenty-first century, and while my own modest genius has allowed this leap in technology, many of the things commonplace in your own time and universe are beyond us... apparently time is different between the universes."

"That is not unexpected," Seven commented, "given the Borg's understanding of the nature of time."

"As you can imagine, the Gate requires a colossal amount of power to run, enough that practically any conventional power plant would have to be so large that we would attract unwanted attention."

"You are planning to use this against a foreign power?" Seven asked.

"Oh no, there's no patriotism here, Seven. This isn't a government facility; Crossroads Facility is supported by a series of private investors - investors who are expecting to see a profit out of this expensive facility."

Seven gaped. "You mean that the purpose to all of this is to acquire money? Nothing more."

"Absolutely not," Ms. Danoob said, clearly taking slight offense. "I'm a scientist and explorer, Seven, but I don't live in the nice sterilized world of the Federation; my research requires funds, and people will only provide funds if they will get a profit from it. It's a bitter necessity."

"I do hope it provides you some measure of comfort," Seven said coldly.

"It does," Ms. Danoob said. "But in any case, the Gate is part of the reason I need your help. As I said, we need to avoid attracting attention, and so we were forced to construct a small fission reactor to provide the necessary power."

"If your universe is similar to my own's history," Seven said, "then your nuclear power is still rather primitive and closely regulated."

"Exactly," Ms. Danoob said. "Our supply of uranium is running out and we dare not risk acquiring more that could be traced here via satellite, which is where you come in. A fusion reactor would solve all our problems: we have an ample supply of deuterium because of our oceanic resources, it will provide greater power than our reactor, and the final product will be harmless... but, of course, we actually need to build one."

"Which is why you've been tormenting me to design one for you," Seven said.

"You see our urgency."

Seven looked over at the Gate. "Why should I help you?" she asked finally.

Ms. Danoob nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Good question, it says much more when you know what to look for. You know I could threaten you; we've been demanding the technology from you for some time and using these rather primitive techniques to try to force the issue, but you've resisted. I know you're stringing us along. But to get back to the question: the reactor is the first step on a road of new discovery and challenges, and you will have the chance to be a part of that, in time."

"Why do you believe I wish to aid in your project?" Seven asked.

"You're an explorer, Seven; I offer many opportunities."

"Yet you chose to bring me in in this manner," Seven said. "You chose torment over reasoned discourse. Clearly there is something you're not telling me."

Ms. Danoob hesitated, then finally spoke up. "It was the catalyst, you see. You're not the only one I'm looking to join me in this venture; Mara is another."

"The visions," Seven said, suddenly realizing what she meant. "You put images of Mara into my dreams."

"Yes," she admitted. "I predicted you two would feel attraction for one another, and you did. Before you get angry, I assure you you have in no way been manipulated; everything you felt has been your emotions. All I did was point the way." Seven was still somewhat shocked at the revelation. "I believe you two will make a fantastic team, Seven. In time you'll both have the chance to be full members of the facility, and I'll do everything to provide you with whatever will make you both happy... or this whole thing can end now."

"What would that mean?" Seven asked. "That I go back to being your prisoner, tortured at your whim?"

"No, Seven," Ms. Danoob said. "It means I send you back to Voyager and close the door. That's all."

Seven's eyes narrowed. "There's something you're not telling me."

"There's only enough fuel left for one - last - jump."

The implication struck home. "Mara," she whispered.

"She'll be stuck here. Still, no problem; we'll find something to keep her occupied."

As if on her command, a large monitor lit up nearby, and Seven stared with horror. Mara was stretched out, and probes were working her over. "NOOOO!" she wailed before descending into a laughing fit. "STOP IT! WAHAHAHA! PLEASE NO!" She was being tickled all over her body, from head to toe, ever single little vulnerable spot. Her whole body had turned nearly red; obviously they had been tickling her ever since Seven walked out of her room. “NO MORE HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

"End this," Seven said sharply, turning to Ms. Danoob.

"She still hasn't told us how to make blasters," Ms. Danoob said.

"She doesn't know," Seven said.

"There's no harm in being thorough; it's not like we'll have any other work for her to do."

"PLEASE SEVEN!" Mara screamed. "MAKE THEM STOP! BWA-HAHAHAHAHA!!!" The words cut into Seven like a knife. They must have told her that Seven would be responsible for getting her out of this situation... what else had they told her? Seven watched as the woman she loved was subjected to merciless tickling, and it was hard not to cry at the sight of her. “FOR GOD’S SAKE HELP ME SEVEN! YE-HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!!!”

"This was your plan," Seven said with disgust. "You compelled me to care for Mara so you could use her as a weapon against me."

"The thing about being in love, Seven, is that it is your greatest weakness and your greatest strength, all at once. Right now it may be tying your hands, but at the same time, it can also compel you to accomplish the impossible."

Seven looked up at Mara; the tickling was clearly beyond anything she could endure, and it broke Seven's heart to see it. "I will help you," she said. "But you must stop this. Leave Mara alone and I will do whatever you ask."

Ms. Danoob nodded to one of the technicians nearby and seconds later the probes on the screen stopped, and Mara was left panting for breath. "Thank you, Seven," she said with exhaustion. "I couldn't take much more."

"You'll work with my team," Ms. Danoob said. "We want rapid progress on this. So long as I see you making a concerted effort, you and Mara will both be spared any further unpleasantness."

Seven nodded; a few guards arrived to escort her back to her quarters. Seven couldn't help but wonder how much truth was in her captor's words, but for now it seemed she had to accept things at face value. As she'd watched Mara on that screen she knew she'd fallen too far for her to ever turn back; even the thought of leaving Mara was too much to bear, even without the knowledge of her fate here in this reality. Whatever it took to remain with her, Seven would do it. So long as she had her, she could endure anything... even the jabs of her conscience.

Part 19


Lara opened her eyes; they'd drugged her again, which meant she was likely in the Block. She looked down; yes, she thought with a mental sigh. Here we go again. Then she saw she wasn't alone.

"Hey," Starbuck said with a note of mutual appreciation for the unpleasantness of the situation. "Nice to finally meet you face-to-face."

"Indeed," Lara said, though it wasn't mutual, she just saw no means to antagonize this woman. "I assume you haven't been told what we can expect." She noticed there was a cable locked around each of her wrists and running up into the ceiling. That was something new. She tried in vain to get it off, but it was too secure for her bare fingers.

"Not a peep," Starbuck said.

"Good morning, ladies," came the voice.

"Ah, well, speak of the devil I guess," Starbuck said.

"We've decided to break up the monotony a bit, since you both still refuse to cooperate with us-"

"I told you I don't know a fraking thing!" Starbuck shouted with frustration.

There was silence for a moment. "Don't interrupt me again," the voice said without rebuke or threat. Somehow it was more chilling than either would have been. "We've decided we're going to play a little game." Starbuck's Block swiveled and rolled until it was up against and facing Lara's. At the same time, the cables went taut, yanking Lara's arms straight up into the air. A device came down around her right hand, encasing it. "You haven't seen these yet, so let me introduce you to our charity belts. Dreadful name, I know, but you know how these little nicknames stick." In response, the two both felt a sudden, rather pleasant sensation on their clitorises; it ended rather quickly. “This is just to give you a little introduction," the voice explained. "Though you can rest assured that if you do things properly you can enjoy yourselves to an extent.

"You're both familiar with the Blocks," the voice continued, "so you know how they work. We've made a few changes to offer a bit of a variety. We're going to set Lara's Block on Level 4, but what we've also done is tied the charity belt in with the Block; the higher the level, the more intense they operate at. Now Lara, inside that device on your right hand you will feel two buttons; those control the level of your block. Left will dial it down, right will dial it up, to a maximum of four, of course. Starbuck, the problem for you is that whenever Lara's Block goes down, your Block will go up accordingly; in other words: if she turns hers off, yours will go up to full power, and I'm afraid there is nothing you can do to stop it, at least not directly."

"Thanks," Starbuck said bitterly.

"Oh, but we haven't left you completely at her mercy," the voice said. "After all, your hands are freed, and Lara... well, Lara is kind of stuck, isn't she. Did I mention that she's extremely ticklish on her upper body?"

"Ah," Starbuck said. "So the idea is that if I don't like what she's doing, I can use this as a payback to maybe get her to tone it down for me."

"Yes," the voice said. "And of course, whatever you do to Lara will have no impact on her charity belt, so it will present an interesting dilemma for her. I'm curious to see how this plays out. Perhaps we'll take bets."

"Charming," Lara said icily.

"Let's begin," the voice said, and Lara screamed. It was a quick and intense assault, attacking all her weak spots simultaneously. Probes and feathers worked over her feet, more did the same to her behind. Her knees were squeezed with a tender mercy that sucked the air out of her. Her inner thighs were given attention as well, driving her to hysterics. Her belly was also allowed a great deal of attention, including the navel and the flanks. All told, it instantly drove all rational thought from her mind and reduced her to a shrieking ticklish mess.

Starbuck looked on with nervous anticipation. She knew it wasn't going to be long and Lara would manage to gain enough control over herself to operate the controls, and then she'd be in trouble. She'd be helpless; true she could try to use a little "friendly persuasion" to get Lara to change things, but if she couldn't deliver something worse than what the Block could, then Lara would have little incentive. She tightened her hands into fists in anticipation, readying herself for the counter-strike, should Lara give in.

She did. With three taps she dialed the Block down to Level 1, which was strong but manageable by comparison. Starbuck was instantly roaring with laughter as she now felt the intense ministrations on those same spots. It was the tickling equivalent of falling through the ice in a frozen lake, it just sapped the strength from her body and left her hunched over, laughing her head off. "...stop it..." she got out amongst her laughs, eyes already screwed shut as she tried vainly to fight this. "...please stop please..."

Lara swallowed. So far, so good. She kicked the Block all the way off, and Starbuck's laughs went from the quiet chuckles of exhaustion to the ones of newfound energy when things intensify. It was a mistake, as it seemed to snap her attention back to Lara. Still laughing, Starbuck lunged forward and grabbed Lara's ribs in both hands and began squeezing madly. Lara began laughing and tried to struggle, but with the cables taut and the Block held her so high up on her torso that there was no wiggle room. She swore at Starbuck a couple times, but she knew that this wasn't anywhere near as bad as it could be, not compared to what the Blocks can do. As they say, she grinned and bore it.

The tickling was driving Starbuck out of her mind. Her feet were especially distracting; the strokes and prods were hitting every single ticklish spot on her soles and in between her toes. She tried to do something to scrunch up her foot to get at least some relief from it, but it was impossible to budge even a little, and focusing on her feet only made the sensations even more overwhelming. Her hands slipped off Lara while she doubled over with laughter, and the other woman gasped for air at the break. Starbuck pushed herself back up, however, still laughing like crazy. She stuck her fingers into the exposed armpits and began scratching madly. Now Lara was really going at it, screaming and crying while Starbuck tickled away. Good, maybe this would make her tone things down.

Lara struggled to resist, but Starbuck was doing a pretty good job on her. Her upper body was way more sensitive than her lower part - even her feet weren't as ticklish when you got down to it. So even though Starbuck was only one person attacking one spot instead of a machine attacking multiple spots, she was doing a comparable job on Lara. "STOP!" Lara finally cried. "STOP AND I'LL HAHAHA DIAL IT DOWN!" But Starbuck didn't relent, so Lara didn't budge either. She could outlast the blond, she knew that much.

But Lara had forgotten the other element in the equation. The charity belt was humming away, and while the tickling was driving Starbuck out of her mind, at the same time, that was a very nice backdrop against the touches. And with Lara's skin under her fingers, suddenly Starbuck had a renewed way to direct her energies. She was laughing like a madwoman to be sure, but she put her all into a frenzy of sexual energy and tickled Lara as intensely as she could. The sight and feel of her could almost make Starbuck forget just how much she was being tickled herself. In fact, after a little while, it stopped being nearly as torturous and stared being kind of fun, enhancing things in a way. Eventually the inevitable happened, and despite the laughter a single moan slipped out.

Still, nothing was stopping because of it, so before the sensation even faded, Starbuck went back at it with renewed vigor, tickling Lara's breasts fast and furious. Now Lara was getting desperate, and she figured she'd take a chance and kick her machine up to level 1 in the hopes that Starbuck would back off, at least a little. It didn't; in fact it just seemed to allow Starbuck to have more energy to focus on Lara, finding the best way to tickle her. Lara was about to turn it off again when she decided against it. It wasn't really going to change anything, and while the torment of her lower body was compounding the issue, the buzz of the now active belt at least allowed her to endure it a little better. The fact was that the upperbody tickling was outdoing everything else, and... and the buzz made the sensations on her chest far more bearable, almost enjoyable.

Starbuck was a bit surprised when she felt the intensity drop again, and then again on her Block. She was still laughing, but this was far more manageable. It let her focus her efforts on tormenting her fellow captive better, although the look on Lara's face seemed to suggest that it wasn't as bad as all that, as far as she was concerned. Starbuck paused and considered; with the tickling died down she could at least put a couple thoughts together. With a smile she went back at it, but her hands switched over from tickling to massage, squeezing and rubbing lovingly; it felt nice, and she could feel even the diminished power of the belt enhancing this experience.

Lara, for her part, was in a strange world of paradox, where everything was driving her out of her mind with agony and ecstasy. As she felt the firm fondling she let her head loll back, laughing all the while yet growing to relish all of this. Her belt had been amped up, and she started getting heady, and the lack of oxygen from laughing so hard was making her head swim. She felt it come fast and hit hard like a runaway train, and she was left laughing and panting in its wake. Not long after that, Starbuck visibly did the same again.

The machines turned off. "Interesting," the voice commented while Lara and Starbuck panted for breath. "Very, very interesting. I look forward to seeing how you act in round 2. This time, however, I'll think we'll go to Level 5." And Lara and Starbuck exploded with laughter.

Part 20


Mara and Seven both got up as the door opened, each fearful of what it might mean. In came Ms. Danoob, flanked by several guards. "What's this about?" Seven asked, fearful that Ms. Danoob may have changed her mind and decided to resume Mara's interrogations.

"Nothing you need fear, I assure you," Ms. Danoob said. “In fact, we're so pleased with your performance so far that we've got a small project for you two to work together on."

Mara was visibly distrusting; her Force abilities, minor though they were, were telling her that something was wrong here. "What exactly do you have in mind?" she asked with suspicion.

"You two are no doubt aware of the presence of two other initiates here at Crossroads Facility."

"'Initiates,'" Mara said with distaste. "And how does that differ exactly from 'prisoner?'"

"For starters," Ms. Danoob said, "your sessions have stopped, whereas a prisoner would have many more to look forward too. Do you consider yourself a prisoner? If so I can arrange that."

"We have an agreement," Seven said sharply.

"Then be sure to keep your friend in check," Ms. Danoob said without rancor. "If not, then I'll have to take steps... unpleasant steps."

Seven looked over to Mara, who fumed but kept her mouth shut. "Go ahead," Seven said to Ms. Danoob.

"Thank you. The other two initiates are proceeding slower than I'd like, and I think it's because they require a more hands-on approach."

"Ah," Mara clapped "very amusing."

"If you are finished," Ms. Danoob said. "They have both been appropriately restrained. I want the two of you to handle them together, personally."

"No," Mara said flatly. "No, you made me do that to Seven, and I didn't like what it did to me."

"Oh Mara, there's no shame in admitting that you enjoyed that." Mara looked ready to strike her but said nothing. "In the deep places of your heart, you love it and relish the thought of doing it again. Denying that isn't going to change anything."

"It's a line I won't cross again," Mara said firmly.

"If you remain uncooperative, then I question whether or not you are ready to work with us. Seven, I want to abide by our agreement, but if Mara isn't going to do what she's told-"

"She will," Seven said. Mara turned and gaped at her. "Allow us a moment, please," Seven said. Ms. Danoob nodded and her entourage stepped outside.

"Seven," Mara said with restrained anger, "what's the matter with you?"

"We must comply," Seven said.

"No," Mara said, "we don't knuckle under for these people."

"Mara," Seven pleaded, "I do not like this any more than you do, but the fact is that if we do not cooperate, then not only will our sessions resume, but it's probable that you and I could be split up, and I cannot allow that. I cannot lose you, Mara... you've brought me closer to my humanity than anyone ever has, and the thought of losing you fills me with despair. Please, Mara, for my sake, I beg you to comply."

Mara shook her head and pulled Seven close. "I love you too, Seven," she aid. "And I don't want to lose you either. But I don't like this, not a bit, and if this is the start, then where does it end?"

"We will have to face that when it arrives," Seven said. "But until then, we follow their instructions, agreed?"

Mara sighed. "Yeah, okay, I agree. I just hope we're not making a big mistake."

The pair were given robes to wear for modesty sake, and then were led through the facility. There were guards, of course, but they lacked the air of menace they usually employed, as if they were a token presence. They were lucky; Mara knew that between her Force abilities and Seven's Borg strength they could beat the hell out of them if they were unprepared, but Seven was right, they couldn't just try to escape without knowing everything there was to know about where they were escaping from and -just as importantly- where they were escaping to. The guards dropped them off in a room much like the one Mara had been left in when she first met Seven in the flesh. The opaque glass turned clear, allowing them to see in to the other two prisoners of the facility. Naturally they had been seen on the screens many times, but this would be the first time they'd meet in the flesh. It wasn't going to be a very pleasant introduction either, at least for the pair on the other side of the glass. They were both on raised platforms, locked into a kneeling position with their arms face up. Gags had been put in place, which was a new one as far as Mara knew. Whatever the reason, it would probably make this easier not to have to listen to their pleas.

Mara looked them over; the blond was on the right, the brunette on the left. Neither looked terribly pleased to be there. but Mara knew that the brunette was a strong and angry woman - at least, she was angry about being here at any rate, and it was hard not to fault her for that. Still, she wouldn't be too happy with whoever had a go at her right now. "I'll take the one on the left," Mara said.

"No," Seven said flatly.

Mara looked at her in surprise. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"You will take the one on the right," Seven said in a voice that said argument would be futile, but Mara pushed forward.

"Why?" Seven said nothing, and Mara smiled a little. "Seven, are you jealous?"

"I am Borg," Seven said firmly. "I am superior in strength and intellect." Still, Mara had a feeling that Seven was feeling a little self-conscious around a woman whose cup-size exceeded even her own.

"You are the only one I could ever love," Mara said to Seven," then kissed her cheek. "You may take her if you like, I'll handle the blond." Seven nodded and said nothing, but there was visible relief in her features.

Mara and Seven walked through the door and the other two prisoners' eyes widened. "Sorry," Mara said, "but we've been drafted, and I’m afraid this isn't going to be pleasant for any of us. Still, let's try to make the most of this, okay?" She circled around and began running her fingers over Starbuck's feet. The blond squirmed and chuckled into the gag, and despite herself the corners of Mara's mouth twitched into a smile. Face it, she told herself, this is fun, isn’t it? She started skittering her fingers over the exposed soles, watching Starbuck twist and squeal. “I'd say feet are a definite weakness on you," Mara commented as she worked her way up towards the heel then back down, over the instep and onto the ball. Starbuck was laughing madly into her gag all the while.

Seven did nothing; instead she and Lara seemed to have a staring contest. Even though Lara was completely vulnerable and at Seven's mercy, she managed to hold her own. Finally Seven stepped forward and attacked the two most obvious vulnerable spots, and Lara began shrieking. Under Mara's ministrations Seven had experienced all kinds of tickle torture, but it was obvious that Mara had fallen in love with tickling Seven's breasts, and after all the times of being on the receiving end of those touches, she knew exactly how to hit Lara where she lived. Lara's eyes alternated between being wide open in desperation or slammed shut in despair. Regardless, Seven continued with the precision and single-mindedness of a Borg, and Lara was left a laughing screaming mess as Seven's hands stroked and squeezed her bosom.

Mara was busy taking this time to explore the area on and around Starbuck's toes, which seemed a good choice. The blond was struggling madly now, yanking on the restraints with such fury Mara could almost believe she could pull herself free. Of course, it wouldn’t happen. If Seven couldn't break out of the restraints, none of them had a chance. So Mara went back to tickling toes while Starbuck fought vainly to escape from her tickling touch.

Seven paused in her treatment and stared hard into Lara's eyes. Lara was panting and crying, but despite it she still gazed back in defiance, so Seven went back to it, and Lara instantly descended into deep belly laughs. Seven began slow circles along the sides as a prelude to more massages, and Lara's cheeks now shone with tears. However defiant she might be, Seven was definitely pushing her to her limits.

Mara eventually grew bored with the feet and instead grabbed Starbuck's flanks. She pinched and rolled the skin, and deep chuckling pushed out of the gag while Starbuck squirmed. After a little while Mara changed her technique, going to quick little grabs up and down both flanks until Starbuck was practically dancing in her efforts at escape. Mara hated to admit it, but this was actually a lot of fun.

Seven, however, was playing a very serious head game with Lara. She held her hands up and slowly scratched through the air with a sinister expression while Lara glared back with anger. Nevertheless, Lara's eyes kept flickering over to Seven's hands until they entered her armpit and she let out a laugh like the rise of a siren. Seven scratched quickly and furiously while Lara trembled under her touches. Seven's face betrayed no sign of enjoyment; she looked at Lara like a rival to be bested, although at the moment Lara looked about as bested as was possible, but once the tickling stopped, she'd likely go back to resisting. It was, of course, one thing a Borg could not abide.

The hour wore on, and Mara had quite a bit of fun overall. She poked and prodded and teased all over the helpless Starbuck. She tested the vulnerability of her ribs and underarms. She tried out her butt and all over her thighs. Overall Starbuck was a generally ticklish lady; not as bad as Seven, but still a rather vulnerable girl. Of course, this was just playing around; when they were done, Mara knew that Seven was the only one she wanted to take from this room... in fact, as the time passed, she was growing rather anxious for the opportunity.

Seven, however, continued the contest with Lara, who remained firm despite Seven's ministrations. Seven explored all over her upperbody, knowing all the places that were the worst from watching Lara on the monitor. There was no question that she was tickling Lara more intently than any person ever had and was even giving some of the machinery a run for her money. Still, Lara refused to knuckle under to anyone; in fact, it made this easier for her to endure. To have an actual human to direct her ire at allowed her a way to resist the tickling even as the touches threatened to drive her mad with laughter. The time finally ended, and the voice instructed them to withdraw, and Lara had still met Seven's stare. For herself, it was triumph.

Mara walked over and looked between Seven and Lara. Then she took Seven by the chin and turned her to face her and kissed her deeply right there, as if to assure her that as far as Mara was concerned, she knew who really won.

Part 21


Starbuck opened her eyes and sighed. There was a time in her life when regaining consciousness wasn't accompanied by thoughts of anger and frustration, but since coming to this place it seemed the norm. It would be nice to wake up lying in a bed for once, if only for the novelty.

Starbuck saw a woman before her; rather small and unimpressive physically. When she spoke, Starbuck instantly recognized it as the one who spoke to her throughout all her torment here. Now that she had a face to go with the voice, she looked forward to meeting her when she wasn't bound.

That was another thing; she wished she could wake up in the morning and not be locked in some kind of bizarre contraption. She could feel she was lying down and stretched out, perhaps on a rack, though for some reason she couldn't see. She quickly realized that the image of her captor was wherever she looked, and it quickly became apparent why.

"My name is Ms. Danoob," the woman explained. "Don't bother trying to attack me; even if you weren't secured, you're only seeing a projection of me. You may not know it, but you're wearing a special helmet I devised, allowing you to see and hear what I want you to. You should recognize your competitor well enough." Next to Ms. Danoob appeared an image of Lara Croft's face. "You might notice that you don't see the helmet. I've also installed a camera inside that can view you even while fully inside it, quite clever if I do say so myself."

"Very clever," Starbuck said icily. "Now get me out of this frackin' thing."

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Ms. Danoob said. "Since you two still haven't cooperated, even after the excessive treatment by Mara and Seven, it seems we have to continue with this unpleasantness."

"I told you!" Starbuck bellowed. "I don't know a frackin' thing!!! What does it take to get through to you?!!!"

"Enough," Ms. Danoob said, though as usual it was without any kind of reproach. "Considering how well things went with you two together last time, we thought another game might be in order."

"No," Lara said. "No more games. We're not here to amuse you."

"No, you're not," Ms. Danoob said. "You're here to provide information, but you're not doing it. Until that time, we'll put you to whatever use seems appropriate."

"Go to hell," Lara said with a rumbling tone, like the sound of an impending cave-in.

Ms. Danoob shook her head. "You're quite difficult sometimes, Lara. In any event, the game will begin soon, and so you'd best be prepared." Starbuck glowered but said nothing; she was forced to play whether she wanted to or not, and she knew from last time that it was better to know how it works than be stubborn for pride's sake. Still, that knowledge didn't make this any less grating. "Now, since this is a game, there must be rules, and an objective. We call this game Take 5."

"I don't care," Lara said. "Get on with it."

"I would if you'd stop interrupting," Ms. Danoob said. "You both are wearing the charity belts, much like last time. However, rather than being turned on while you're being tickled, they'll be turned on when you're not being tickled. An extra incentive, you might say.

"One of the most nonsensical comments I've heard about relativity," she went on, "is comparing something good with something bad. Sitting on a hot stove can make a moment stretch out, while a night of passion can go by like the snap of a fingers. It's true, but unrelated, because all this refers to is the human mind's ability to process the passage of time. Under some circumstances it can fly by, but under others it can crawl. That's what this is, a test of your ability to measure the passage of time.

"One of you is going to be tickled," she explained, "while the other gets to watch and... enjoy herself. However, the one being tickled can switch her tickling off and turn the other person's on by saying the word 'time.' However, there's a catch. You must allow at least five minutes to pass first. If you say it too soon, then the machine intensity will be increased and the timer reset to zero."

"And you're not going to give us any way to measure time, yes?" Lara said darkly. "Just to be sadistic, right?"

"Hardly sadistic," Ms. Danoob said. "It's only your continued refusal-"

"I can tell you nothing!" Lara shouted.

Ms. Danoob paused. "I think it's time we got started," she said, pulling out a coin. "Call it," she said to Lara, flipping

"Heads," Lara said with a snarl.

Ms. Danoob caught the coin. "Tails,” she said, not even pretending to look at it. "You go first."

Lara grinned a sinister grin. "I do love how you counter my accusation of sadism by -and this is the truly brilliant part of the strategy- acting like a sadist." Before she could say anything more she exploded with laughter. At the same time, Starbuck felt the pleasant sensation of the charity belt vibrating in just the right place. Given how much general unpleasantness came her way here, she ignored the indignity of it and decided to enjoy herself. And watching Lara really did make it that much more fun. Alongside her laughing face, images of her body appeared. At the moment, there was a close-up image of a paintbrush stroking along her belly and then dipping into her navel, swirling about with its fine tip. The abdomen shook with laughter, the effect of the touch only too obvious to Starbuck as she watched her tremble under the strokes. The image changed, and another brush was stroking around her nipple, teasing it erect and then tickling it madly. Starbuck knew how ticklish Lara was there, and could see in her face how this made the session even more intense. She was sweating now, and Starbuck felt herself sweating a little herself. This was pretty nice, actually. Lara was beautiful, and the sight of her gorgeous body being teased, and her face laughing madly under its effects, perfectly complemented the little buzzing that had suddenly become Starbuck's new best friend.

"Time!" Lara shouted, and suddenly it was Starbuck's turn to laugh. But it couldn't be, it had only just started!

Starbuck screwed her eyes shut while she laughed; oh they were tickling her feet! She hated that! There was some wheel-like apparatus running up and down her soles, driving her crazy. She scrunched and squirmed, and that helped a little, but even after all this time she was still powerless against the effects of the tickling. Compounding it were more prods into her ribcage. They drove in and wriggled about, causing her to shriek with every squeeze. There were other places as well, but those two were absolutely awful, and she struggled and sputtered along as they subjected her to this.

"Time!" she called. It had been grueling, but-

A deep buzzer sound, and instead of relenting, they started tickling her more. "No! Stop! STOP IT!!!" Things got worse on her feet. Now little probes descended and held her toes in place. She soon felt the light touches of feathers exploring each and every one, and she screamed with laughter. "NOT MY FEET! NOT MY FEET! HAHAHAHA!!!" But of course, there was no way of stopping them short of saying the word at the right time, and how the hell would she know when that was?! She'd known for certain it had been long enough before, until this had buzzed at her. But there was nothing for it, so she just laughed and tried to resist, even as they tickle tortured her helpless feet.

"Time!" she eventually yelled, and thankfully the tickling stopped. She panted in exhaustion, and even as she did she felt the sensation in her womanhood. Oh that felt so nice after all this, so... Starbuck moaned a little despite herself. She looked up and saw Lara's squirming body and her breathing deepened, and she felt the flame growing in her belly, and then it flowed through her, washing pleasure through her body, and leaving her sighing with enjoyment in its wake. Still Lara's torment went on, and Starbuck watched the feathers and brushes tease her body.

"Time!" Lara yelled, and Starbuck stiffened in expectation, but it didn't come. Instead she started laughing even harder. "Stop it!" Lara shouted. "I said "Time, dammit!" There was another buzz and the tickling increased yet again. Starbuck lay there, feeling the persistent rubbing, and eating up the sight of Lara being tickled out of her wits.
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Lara closed her eyes and shrieked with laughter. It was coming at her full force now, and she was starting to feel overwhelmed. There were two shaving brushes being employed in her armpits, stroking and spinning as they slid up and down and back and forth. They must have been shaved while she slept, because they felt especially vulnerable at the moment, . It was practically to the point where she could feel the tickling touch of every bristle as it slid across the surface, leaving her squealing for it to stop. From below, the all too familiar attack on her full breasts was in full force. The paintbrushes that had been tormenting her before were still there, but they were now joined by the stroking of feathers and the precise strikes of little scratches here and there, until her breasts were bouncing around in an effort at escape.

There was just enough room between her thighs for something to get in there and begin kneading up and down the milky curves. Lara shrieked and tried to get them out, but there was nothing for it. They continued up and down from the side of her knees clear up to the edge of the charity belt. She was getting tickled elsewhere, of course: the persistent stroking of her feet, the merciless prodding of her belly, the constant squeezing of her sides, the horrible pin-point strikes on her hips. She sputtered and shook and tried not to... to... Someone had switched her belt on, she could feel it. Oh God, with the constant tickling it was driving her mad with desire! More! She needed more! She laughed and shook and five minutes came and went and still she went on. And Starbuck came again just from the sight of this beautiful girl, and soon Lara did as well, and it was in that moment that every stroke felt like it was wrapping Lara in pure ecstasy, and between it all Lara's mind overloaded and she slipped into unconsciousness.
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Ms. Danoob watched the events play out from her control room. She nodded with approval. "It's about time, Lara," she said quietly. "About time you woke up to what you really want." She turned to Starbuck. Oh yes, she was doing nicely as well. The dream manipulations had pushed her very far already; she was nearly there herself. "A little longer, I think," she said, "and we can start getting down to our real business."

Her assistant looked up at Lara's unconscious form. "Are you sure, ma'am?" she asked. "She's proven very resilient. This could be a trick."

"Very good," Ms. Danoob said. "Yes, you're starting to respect the ladies we've brought here. But I don't think this is a trap, and in any case, I shall be as careful as I have always been." She put a finger to her lips and mulled it over while she watched the screen. "Yes. What they need now is a little something they can do to get to know one another better. A little cooperative fun."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, a little bit of two-on-one," she said. "Have the preparations on the new reactor been completed?"

"No, but we seem to be nearing a breakthrough."

"Good, 'nearing' will work just fine."

Part 22

Seven and Mara had been sleeping when the door to their cell opened. Mara immediately sat up, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her Force abilities may have been weak compared to those of Sith or Jedi, but they were more than enough to give her instincts that had kept her alive in situations that should have been certain death. She knew something was wrong.

"Good morning," Ms. Danoob said as she came in, accompanied by the guards. She always seemed careful, always taking some kind of precaution. She was a very competent opponent, and despite Seven's insistence that they had to work together, that fact still never changed for Mara. She wasn't on the same side, she was just an enemy she hadn't gotten around to dealing with yet.

"That depends," Mara said suspiciously as Seven stood up beside her. "What do you want?"

"You, I'm afraid," Ms. Danoob said.

"Try not to be afraid, it's unbecoming in a warden."

"Ah Mara, sometimes you can be very amusing... and then there’s now."

"What's going on?" Seven asked, getting straight to the point.

"Noting terribly sinister," Ms. Danoob said. "Kara and Lara-"

"Wait, you have a Kara and a Lara?" Mara said. "And you have a Mara? Is that why we're here?"

Ms. Danoob paused. "I hadn't realized that," she said. "What an interesting coincidence." She turned to Seven. "Perhaps we'll rename you Jara."

"Sometimes you can be very amusing," Seven said, "and then there's now."

"Quite. In any event, Kara and Lara are a bit strained and need someone to help them let off a little steam."

"That is not our problem," Seven said firmly, stepping protectively in front of Mara. "We had an agreement."

"Yes, we did," Ms. Danoob said. "And where's my reactor?"

"It's coming," Seven said. "It is not my fault that your technicians are so stupid."

"True," Ms. Danoob said. "But I do need the reactor, and I do need to do something for my two other guests. Mara will help ensure that both needs are met."

"No," Seven said in a tone that would cow even a minor deity.

Ms. Danoob, however, stood her ground. It seemed she feared nothing, despite the presence of the guards. "You work for me," she said flatly. "You make no demands."

"If you take her the work stops," Seven said back in the same tone.

"Don't play chicken with me, Seven," Ms. Danoob said. "I still have one more jump left. I can find another cyborg if you force the issue."

"I'll go," Mara said, but Seven grabbed her and pushed her back. With her strength, it felt like Mara was just a child. Seven stood her ground, and Mara could see her tensing. She was getting ready to fight, and while Mara wouldn't mind taking a poke at them, it wasn’t a smart move. "Seven, you told me we need to cooperate."

"Not when they refuse to honor our bargain," Seven said, eyes never leaving Ms. Danoob.

"Seven, you do the work that you need to do. I'll do this, all right." Seven still didn't move, so Mara slipped up to her ear and whispered. "I can endure anything so long as I know you're safe. Do this for me, sweetie... please." Seven's glare could have knocked a squirrel out of a tree, but eventually she turned away, squeezed Mara tight, then turned back to her captors.

"If she comes to harm I will kill you," Seven said. The way Seven spoke, it wasn’t a threat, or even a promise, but rather as if the one would follow the other as naturally and unstoppably as two following one.

"She will be returned to you unharmed," Ms. Danoob assured her.

"Yes," Seven said, and this time the threat was unmistakable, "she will be."
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Lara and Starbuck were escorted into a room; Mara was waiting, strapped down spread eagle on a horizontal X cross. There was also a ballgag in her mouth. "Hey, it's my old friend, red," Starbuck said. "How are you doing, red?"

"Mara's volunteered to participate in a little healthy recreation," came the voice of Ms. Danoob.

"Ah, it's our turn to be the tormentors," Lara said, "Is that how the game is played?"

"Would you rather be the one on the table?" Ms. Danoob asked.

"I just find this entire situation quite humiliating," Lara said. "This woman's done nothing to me."

"Well she has to me," Starbuck said. "And I don't care how crass it may sound to all you civilized people, but a little payback is fine by me." Starbuck walked up to Mara and didn't so much as look things over; she just dropped her nails straight onto Mara's ribcage. Immediate Mara began squealing and struggling, but Starbuck was only getting warmed up. After a bit of this she began rapidly digging her nails in, wriggling, and moving on to a nearby spot, so that her hands were flying over Mara's ribs very quickly, and leaving Mara shrieking from the effect. "Oh yes, I've been looking forward to this," Starbuck said slowly, in contrast to the quick tickle attack she was performing. "Let's see how well you take it, red."

"Lara," came the voice of Ms. Danoob. "Don't leave all the work for Kara." Lara uncrossed her arms, came over, and began kneading Mara's knees. Despite the intensity of the rib tickling, Mara still noticed and was quickly trying to shake her loose, but while Lara's heart may have not been in it, she was still good at this, and kept squeezing her knees while Mara laughed into her gag.

"I'd forgotten how much fun this is," Starbuck commented. "I've got to find time to do this more often." She worked further down and began squeezing Mara's flanks. "Maybe it can be with you, red," she said. "You're quite a ticklish thing, I think it'd be a good use for you." She wormed her thumbs in, causing Mara to shake in desperation. "Doesn't that sound like a fun thought? You as my personal tickle pet? I wonder who I'd have to pay off to make that happen."

Lara had grown bored of the knees, and instead slipped down and took Mara's left foot in her hand. She began tracing the nails of both index fingers up and down the sole watching it twitch and scrunch to try and escape her. She liked tickling, of course, but she couldn't get into this as much as Kara. The truth was... the truth was she'd prefer if this were Kara. She had such a beautiful laugh, and the way she looked during their times together had been very stimulating. Compared to her, Mara was a bit of a disappointment.

Starbuck, for her part, was far too distracted to think about Lara. She was having the time of her life playing with Mara's helpless torso. She dropped both hands onto her belly and began squirming into the hard abdominal muscles. She could feel the belly shake from laughter under her grip, which only further encouraged her. She kept at it, working down towards her pelvis, then up towards her ribs. She stayed in the center for the time being, however; she didn't want to get too close to the sides with that, because it was always fun to go back to the flanks. Every once in a while she'd pull her hands away, jab them into Mara's sides, and wriggle them about. Each time Mara would jump and sputter at it, and yet, there was no way she couldn't have known it was coming. She was obviously just too ticklish for this, which suited Starbuck just fine. After the brutal assault she'd had, she wanted Mara to suffer as much as possible.

Lara eventually grew bored with the foot and headed towards a different spot. Since Starbuck seemed to have staked a claim on the torso, Lara went on to the head. She started in Mara's underarms, since they were always a good target. In addition to being quite ticklish, it allowed her to look Mara in the face. With her red hair and flush face, it was quite a sight to behold. She scratched away for a while, then started to think the better of it. After all, she'd probably been tickled more than anyone else here; she should know all those spots to catch someone off guard. She went up from the armpits and onto Mara's neck. Instantly Mara's eyes bugged open and she started thrashing her head to get away. Lara kept at it, until she found a way to get it without Mara being able to escape. The eyes screwed back shut again, and Lara knew she was having an effect. Good, she liked to get new skills down quickly, and in this place being a master tickler would probably prove useful.

Starbuck had gotten tired of playing with the belly and went back to full kneading of the flanks, causing Mara to shift and buck her hips. It was good, but not enough; even as she taunted her, she tried to think of something better. Mara had to be begging her -metaphorically, of course, since she was gagged- for mercy before Starbuck would be satisfied. So she kept at it.

Lara, however, was on the move. She had a camel hair paintbrush and had taken a firm grip on Mara's right breast. Mara's eyes widened as she saw it approach, then squeezed shut as she felt the brush stroking back and forth over her nipple. Having been on the receiving end often, Lara had some ideas on how to do this, and given Mara's reaction, it seemed she had picked that up as well.

"Hey," Starbuck said, finally noticing what Lara was doing. "Where'd you get that?"

Lara didn't miss a stroke. "On the bench," she said, swirling around Mara's nipple while Mara sputtered.

"Oh I have got to try some of those!" Starbuck said, going over to inspect the table. There were all kinds of brushes, feathers, backscratchers, toothbrushes, and other assorted tickle tools. Oh Mara, she thought, I almost feel sorry for you. She took up a feather. "Oh, have I got an idea," she said in a low, wicked tone. "And you are going to love this Mara. " She scooted around Mara's foot and emerged in between her legs. "Got any idea what I'm going to do with this?" Starbuck asked, holding the feather up.

Mara looked up at her, still laughing from Lara's ministrations, but it was obvious Starbuck had her full attention. With a pleading look in her eyes Mara shook her head for no, but all that prompted in Starbuck was a chuckle of enjoyment.

"Oh, so now is when there should be mercy, huh?" Starbuck asked. "Now, when it's you that's helpless, we need to hold back. No, I don't think so."

Starbuck slowly spread the folds of Mara's womanhood open, then gently blew across it, causing Mara to shiver. Starbuck carefully ran the tip of the feather along the exposed flesh, and she could hear Mara's breath freeze at the touch. Another back, and there was a distant snicker. "Oh yes,” she said, still keeping at it, “this is working out nicely."

Mara closed her eyes and tried to fight it. She could feel the subtle, teasing strokes as it worked along her flesh, then slowly swirled around her feminine nub. She couldn’t even shift slightly to escape, it just kept right at it, deftly sliding and twirling over her while Mara felt the laughter force its way out of her. No! she thought desperately. Please, don't tickle me there! Starbuck continued down her sex, then back and rapidly skittered over her clitoris. Please stop! STOP!

But Starbuck could read the reactions, and she grinned evilly. With feather in hand she passed the long hours without moving from the spot, stroking and tickling Mara's pussy while Lara worked her way around the rest of her body. And that night, when she went to bed, she felt vindicated... and a little aroused at the whole affair. And when she slept, she had dreams of feathers exploring herself in much the same way.

Part 23


Seven returned to her cell after a long day of work on the fusion reactor; Mara wasn’t back yet. Seven sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded, waiting. Time passed slowly, but she could think of nothing else but what might be happening to Mara. After an hour, the door finally opened, and Mara stumbled in and fell to the floor. Seven rushed over to her. "Mara?" she asked with worry. "Are you damaged?"

Mara looked up into her face, and Seven could see her fighting. "I’ll be fine, Seven... I'll be..." The first sob slipped out, and once that came the rest followed without stopping. They must have tickled her non-stop the entire time, Seven thought as she picked Mara up like a little girl and carried her back to the bed. Mara was an emotional rock, but everyone has their limits, even her. She clung to Seven, weeping without words, and Seven tried to offer comfort despite her inexperience. Soon exhaustion got the better of her and Mara fell asleep, but Seven still held her. She could go two or three days without sleep if necessary, so she stood guard over Mara in case anything tried to harm her again. She kissed the sleeping woman on the forehead and quietly promised that it would be all right.

Morning eventually came and Mara awoke, and looked up at Seven. "Watching over me like a mother hen," she said. "Boy, was I pathetic or what?"

"I'm so sorry, Mara-"

"It wasn't your fault," Mara said. "I'm just embarrassed that, that you saw me like that. I don't know what came over me."

"I do," Seven said. "At least I believe so. You do not fear me. Thus, you are willing to appear weak in front of me."

Mara chuckled a little. "And you think you don't know human behavior?" She hugged Seven tight. "Thanks for being there for me last night. I’ve never had anyone that would do anything like that for me, make me feel so safe." She kissed her. "I don't know how I lived before I found you here."

The door opened, and Ms. Danoob and her guards came in the same as before. "Good morning," she said in the usual neutral tone. "The reactor still isn't finished."

Seven glared at her. If looks could kill, Seven was a Bubonic Plague on legs. "You are not taking her again."

"Seven-"

Seven got to her feet. "You are not taking her again, not now. She is too weak for another ordeal."

"I assure you, we monitor her medical state very carefully-"

"Insufficient," Seven said. "She requires rest after her ordeal."

"I don't agree," Ms. Danoob said.

"Seven-" Mara began.

"No, Mara," Seven said. "I must draw the line somewhere. She stays or the work stops right now."

"Are we going to have this discussion every day?" Ms. Danoob asked wearily. She gestured and two guards came forward to take Mara. Seven watched, and as they approached, the line was crossed. Seven had her limits too, and inside that Borg brain of hers, normally all frost and gears operating on perfect logic and rationality, stress caused one tiny part to go "snap." And so Seven hit the first guard very, very hard with the largest blunt object within reach. As it happened, that was the second guard. The two skidded across the floor accompanied by the sound of breaking bones. Seven looked up at Ms. Danoob, and began heading towards her. The guards raised their guns, and Seven felt someone jump on her back, she reached up to pull them off, but recognized the voice before she did anything rash.

"Please, Seven," Mara pleaded. "Don't be stupid! They'll kill you!"

"I will take that chance," Seven growled, glaring at Ms. Danoob with pure hatred.

"Seven," Mara said pitiably, "don't leave me here all alone."

Seven stopped dead in her tracks, then eventually the momentary strain passed, and she relented. She turned and squeezed Mara tight, feeling her tremble with worry. Ms. Danoob kept the guards away, letting the situation diffuse itself. Finally, Seven turned back to her. "You will take me."

Ms. Danoob shook her head. "I need you working-"

"You will take me!" Seven shouted, and it was clear she was just as much on the emotional edge as Mara was.

Ms. Danoob stared at her, and realized the mistake. She believed people were like watches, you had to keep them properly wound up; the problem was that she’d gone a little too far this time. She should have acquiesced, but it was too late now; you couldn’t show any weakness in front of these four ladies or it was an invitation for it to all fall apart. "Very well," she said. "And since I'm not as heartless as you might think, I will ensure that today is the last time, provided you give me tangible results tomorrow."

Seven nodded. "Agreed, provided Mara is allowed to rest undisturbed."

"Of course," Ms. Danoob said. She turned to the guards. "Stay with the injured; have a medical team sent down for them. Seven, come with me - I trust you won’t try anything foolish." Seven nodded. "Good, let's go." And she and Seven walked out; Seven didn't cause any further trouble, they had Mara and she'd already made her point.
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Starbuck and Lara were once again escorted into the room. Seven was waiting, stretched out on a rack and gagged. "Hm, looks like your friend is here to play this time," Starbuck said, looking the blond up and down.

“Indeed,” Lara said, looking Seven's helpless form over. She remembered the confrontation quite well, and how hard the Borg had tried to break her. Let's see how well she could hold up now that the roles were being reversed. "I assume things are the same as yesterday," Lara asked the ceiling.

"Yes. Leave her unharmed, but otherwise, you may tickle her to your heart's content."

Lara twisted her head until her neck cracked. "Wonderful," she said.

"Dibs on the chest," Starbuck said, but as she started to move Lara grabbed her and pulled her back.

"No," she said. "Those are mine."

Starbuck must have caught her expression, because she quickly capitulated. "I suppose there's plenty of this girl to go around." She circled around Seven and hung her face over hers. "Hi, I'm Kara, and I'll be your torturer for the evening." And with that, she dropped her hands into Seven's armpits and went at it. Immediately Seven began squealing and squirming, but Starbuck knew she wasn't going anywhere, so she ignored that and just kept it up. "This is so much more fun than the rest of our time here," she said to Lara, but as usual her partner ignored her.

Seven, of course, couldn't ignore anything. She'd accepted the fact that she was horribly ticklish, but after all the time with Mara she'd come to look at it as a wonderful bit of her humanity. It had been some time since she'd been subjected to this alone and away from her, and she'd forgotten how easily it could overwhelm her. Starbuck's fingers scratched over her skin, and she couldn't budge an inch. Why there? she thought in despair. Of all the places, why start where I'm so vulnerable?! Of course, she reasoned, Starbuck probably knew her weak spot for the same reason she'd known Lara's, because of the interrogations they'd witnessed. She knew Seven had very sensitive armpits, and she tickled up and down them until Seven was certain she'd go out of her mind. And how long did they do this to Mara? she wondered. Am I going to be any better than she was? Even as she laughed into the gag, tears running down her face, she thought, Yes, I am Borg. And I am doing this to protect what is mine. With that, her resolve grew, and despite the tickling she was able to endure.

However, things were about to change. Lara pulled herself up onto the rack and sat astride Seven's body. "Kara," she said, "stop a moment, will you?" Starbuck dutifully complied, and Seven looked up at Lara, gasping, red-faced already. "You think you can go toe-to-toe with me, little girl?" Lara asked. "You think you can try to play mind games with me?" She shook her head. "You've no idea what I am capable of." She startled wriggling her index fingers back and forth in a horizontal manner, slowly lowering over Seven's breasts. Seven was breathing heavy, so that her full chest was rising and falling even as Lara slowly approached. Finally she began grazing Seven's nipples, and deep chuckling began. After a short while Seven was shaking her head firmly, still laughing into the gag. Lara kept it up while Starbuck watched; she obviously could see that this was something personal for Lara, and so she'd give her time. It wasn't as if they wouldn't have a chance to have their fill of the blond anyway.

Lara watched carefully, clinically, as she delicately flicked back and forth over the tips while Seven chuckled, eyes screwed shut as she tried to resist. "Seven," Lara said sharply, stopping just as fast. Instinctively, Seven's eyes opened and she looked at Lara. "You're mine," Lara said, and her hands flashed out and grabbed her breasts. Immediately Seven began roaring as Lara squeezed and pinched all over in much the same manner she had previously when the tables had been turned. Her hands went deep, and Seven shrieked and shook under the ticklish attack.

Lara watched her still, looking for signs of her will crumbling. Seven was certainly as ticklish on her breasts as Lara herself was. She was already nearly flush from the tickling. But being ticklish didn't mean anything. Lara was ticklish, and she had a will of iron. So even while Seven squealed and trembled Lara watched for signs that this was more than just reaction, that this was her giving in.

Lara paused for a moment, and Seven panted. She opened her eyes and saw Lara staring at her; Seven stared back just as hard. She was Borg; let this woman try to break her. It would be futile.

Seven began some deep laughs as Lara began stroking her nails along the sides of her breasts. She began some circles along the sides, then gradually began scratching on the undersides. Seven bounced around as if trying to get away, but Lara was all too experienced with that kind of thing, and easily kept up the attack. The light strokes were soon doing far more than the tickle-massage had been, and Seven was absolutely crimson. Lara ran her nails up, then began drawing circles around her areola, and Seven began banging the back of her head on the rack. Then in a quick shift Lara began tickle-massaging them again, and Seven's laughter became louder and deeper.

Starbuck watched for the better part of an hour, then she'd had enough standing around. She knew what this was about, but Lara had to accept that Seven here was just as stubborn as she was. Leave them to this all day, and Seven would still hold out just to spite Lara. And frankly, Starbuck was tired of feeling like the junior partner in this team. She went back at it, putting her nails at the bottom of Seven's pits and slowly drawing them all the way up to the bicep. Then she slowly slid back down again, feeling the satisfying struggling that came with it. She ran the nails back up again, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin under her fingers.

Starbuck looked up at Lara. That was the only thing that could make it more perfect. Lara's body looked so perfectly tickle-able; she longed to have her here on the bench instead. She could remember so vividly the image of her in ticklish torment while the charity belt rubbed away on her, or the time in the Blocks when she was able to have her way with all the tickle spots on Lara's upper body. The truth was that she was tickling Seven simply because if she watched this any longer she'd knock Lara off there and go after her right here and now. Of course, that wouldn't be a very good idea, so she just continued scratching those helpless underarms, pretending for a little while that they belonged to the brown-haired girl that straddled Seven. Actually, looking at her legs wrapped around her, Starbuck wouldn't have minded being Seven either. The memory of the Laras in her dream tickling away at her had still stuck with her, and it had been very potent. I may not be as busty as you two, Starbuck thought, but can't you give my boobs a little attention? I'm ticklish there too, you know.

Lara, of course, paid no attention to her colleague. She just remained locked in the contest with Seven, and as the hours came she thought she saw cracks emerge. But still, Seven hung on; if only to avenge Mara in some small way, she refused to give Lara the satisfaction. And at the end of the day, when Seven was dropped off into Mara's waiting arms, she felt wrung out and exhausted, but vindicated. And she and Mara made wonderful love that night to celebrate their mutual victory, since Seven knew she couldn't have done it alone.

Part 24

Lara opened her eyes, and wished she hadn't. She was back in the Boa, that inhuman restraint device that kept her from moving even her head. That was bad enough. Worse still was the presence of Kara once again. She was in a Block, hands free, and positioned right in front of Lara so that there was no doubt what her function would be in all of this. "Have you been told anything?" she asked Starbuck?

"Not a peep," Starbuck said. "But I don't think there's much guesswork in what's going on here."

"Yes," Lara said. She took a deep breath. Despite herself, there was a small amount of relief. If she was going to be tickled, she much preferred getting it from Kara than the tickle-equipment. The human connection made it... Lara didn't allow herself to finish the thought.

"Good morning, ladies," came the voice of Ms. Danoob. "Seven and Mara are no longer available, so we put together another game for you."

"When are you people going to get it?" Kara growled. "I don't know anything, and Lara probably doesn't either. What's the point of this?!"

"Just concentrate on the game, Kara," Ms. Danoob said without rebuke. "It's somewhat similar to the dueling Blocks game we did earlier, but with a bit of a twist." There was a hum, and a mask fitted over Lara's eyes. Suddenly she saw in one eye the behind of some woman, and the pubic area in the other. “Lara, what you see is the inside of the Block that Kara is in."

"Charming," Lara said. "I fail to see why you'd think I'd want to stare at this."

"Actually, it's to help you see what you're doing," Ms. Danoob said. "You see, your fingers have been equipped with motion sensors. When I switch this on, it will allow you to control the movement of the feathers within the Block as if they were an extension of your hand. In short, this will help you see how best to tickle Kara where you see."

"Great," Starbuck said moodily.

"Ah, but don't despair, Kara," Ms. Danoob said. "As with before, you are able to get Lara, and you can see she is completely helpless."

"Yes," Starbuck said. "But it looks like there's one little flaw in your game. I only retaliate if Lara tickles me; all she has to do is leave me alone, and I'll leave her alone."

"Oh, Kara, I'm afraid you misunderstand. You're not retaliating to her, she's retaliating to you. You see, so long as you're not tickling her, the Block will be switched on to Level 5; tickling Lara is the only way to stop it, so I'm afraid either way you'll get tickled."

"You leave nothing to chance," Lara said with a smile that had nothing in common with amusement.

"No, I don't. Well, let's let the game begin, shall we? Kara, I'll be switching the Block on in five, four, three.."

Kara didn't wait, she reached out and grabbed onto Lara's ribs, and began running her nails down them. Lara laughed and sputtered, but in her mask she saw the feathers at her disposal, and she began using them. Her left hand flittered the fingers, causing the feathers to stroke up and down Starbuck's cheeks, with immediate effect. She tried the same with her right, the feather tips slipping in and teasing all over Kara's womanhood. That was satisfying, in the sense that Kara was made to pay for making Lara a part of this, but there was something unexpected. With each movement of her fingers, Lara felt something stroking her clitoris. It didn't tickle, in fact it felt wonderful. She kept tickling away, and the deep stimulation made her stop laughing long enough to sigh with contentment. In her mask she watched Starbuck's body writhe under her attack, and would have smiled if she wasn't already laughing away. She did look good, and her laugh was so intoxicating, a perfect counterpoint to the sensation between Lara’s legs.

Kara, for her part, was laughing and squirming under the tickle assault of the feathers, but in no way relented from her own attack on Lara's torso. It was perfect; her poor victim couldn't budge an inch, so Starbuck was free to go after any part she wanted without Lara having a chance to resist. Oh gods, she thought, this is more than I could have asked for. The teasing strokes on her body, the tantalizing touches Lara was making to her pussy, the feel of Lara's quivering flesh beneath her fingers, all were driving Starbuck practically into a frenzy. She reveled in this, moving down to Lara's tummy, but this was only to keep things light for the moment. She was going to really get Lara soon, and she wanted to relish it.

Lara shook with laughter and pleasure. She began changing her strokes now, as she'd gained a far better manipulation of the feathers with the practice. She would swoop and swirl around the full cheeks, watching Starbuck's behind react to her every touch. She took a single feather with one hand and deftly applied it to Kara's sex, teasing it just right to drive her into a laughing fit. The sound of Kara's laughter soon drowned out her own, and she felt the pilot relent slightly in her attack. She was actually disappointed, as she'd discovered how wonderfully being tickled by her complimented all the other sensations. However, she'd come to know Kara well enough to know this was a momentary lapse, and that when she came back she'd do so with vigor. She kept at it, eagerly awaiting the moment when she'd strike.

It finally came. Kara reached out and began running her nails over Lara's breasts. Lara started laughing wildly as she did, and they began bouncing with the effort. The sight of those beautiful mounds rising and falling stirred Kara on, and she hungrily slipped from strokes to just taking them both into hand, tickle-massaging them. Now Lara was shrieking with laughter, and Starbuck kept it up, adoring the sight of Lara's glistening body, the flush of her skin, and the feel of her flesh.

Lara was in heaven. What Kara was doing to her breasts was like pouring molten metal down her spine, flooding her nervous system with sensations until it reached her groin, where she was absolutely begging for more stimulation to complement all that was happening. Tickling and being tickled by Kara was the most blissful thing she could imagine, and she never wanted this to stop.

Sweat was running down her body, and Starbuck briefly released Lara's left breast to wipe it from her face. She felt it building with every teasing stroke; Lara may or may not have been doing it on purpose, but it was just the right tickling of her womanhood to driver her mad. She started groaning with the laughs as she felt it coming; she'd tried holding it in for fear of discouraging Lara. If she knew this was pleasuring Kara, she might try something else, taking away the chance to fully climax and just leaving her torturously on the cusp.

Lara, of course, had been intending this all along. The sound of Kara's own moans stirred herself, and she kept it up, carefully teasing with one hand while precisely tickling all over that wiggling ass of hers. Kara loved this too, she could read it in her movements, hear it in her laugh. And Lara loved to give it to her, adored the way it gave her pleasure at the same time that it fired up Lara's passions. And she knew without a doubt that despite her Croft pride, she adored being tickled like this. And finally, in the face of the approaching release, she had to stop shutting it in. "More Kara," she begged. "Tickle me, please, and don't stop!"

Kara stared at her, stunned at the remark. The request just stirred her on, and she kept at it, tickling Lara's full breasts even more than before. She couldn't help herself now; she reached forward and began suckling the right one, adoring the taste of sweat and flesh, and the sensation of her body within her. She ran her tongue over it and teased the nipple a little, all the while squeezing and kneading more than Lara had ever been tickled by anyone.

As one, the two reached their climax, and felt the trembling of the other as it passed through them.

Starbuck reached behind Lara and pulled herself as close as possible, resting her head on that expansive chest, listening to the sound of her heart beating. Lara just sighed and enjoyed the feel of her, hoping that it would be a long time before anyone came to check up on them.
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Of course, they had been carefully watched the entire time. Ms. Danoob nodded and ticked a checkbox on her clipboard. "And that takes care of that," she commented to her assistant.

"Yes, Ma'am,” she said dutifully.

"And what's the progress on the reactor?"

"Seven estimates it will be online by tomorrow."

Ms. Danoob nodded. "Perfect, absolutely perfect." She put the clipboard down. "Now we can finally get down to business."