The attack had failed. The right flank hadn’t been less defended then the left. The forces on that side had just been better hidden. It hadn’t helped that their commander had been lost before the worst of the fighting even began.
Andrea knew that Cyana was gone because command functions had transferred to her HUD at exactly 1841 hours, or twelve minutes into the fight. When it had become obvious the battle was lost, Andrea had used those command functions to order the squad to retreat. Those with enough power left to activate their boosters had. Andrea suit had been too depleted to join them.
Instead, she’d pulled back from the fighting and managed to lose herself in a dense wood. Staying in the thickest part, Andrea managed to circle around behind outpost, and was now approaching it from the rear. If her guess was right, she was less than a stone’s throw from the building, and no one on the other side knew she was there. Maybe she could accomplish the mission objectives after all.
It was Andrea’s HUD that sounded the alert. There was a heat source deeper into the woods that fit the profile of a human not wearing a power suit. Zooming in, she saw it was a man, staggering through the forest as if drunk, wearing the uniform of a government scientist. He barely seemed aware of his surroundings, nearly walking into several trees.
“Why the hell would he be out here during an attack?” Andrea whispered to herself. Of course! The stun grenades! Had the man been outside during the first moments of the attack, they would have rendered him unconscious. He may have just woken up, still dazed and confused from the blast. Either way, Andrea knew this was a golden opportunity, as enemy soldiers didn’t come looking for him.
Andrea snuck up him, keeping as quiet as possible. For a moment, she considered just snatching him up, throwing him over her shoulder and blasting off. Her HUD, however, showed it would be at least 15 minutes before she had enough power to do that, and she didn’t have that kind of time. With the attack over, a search patrol could come looking for him at any moment. No, it was time for plan ‘B’.
Like a lion stalking a lone gazelle, she pounced, knocking the man to the ground, forcing him to lie prone on his back. He struggled, of course, blows falling on Andrea’s power suit, but those could do was bruise the man’s hands. She planted her hand on his chest, pinning him to the ground. He tried to push her away, put the suit’s servos gave her three times his strength. It was impossible
“Help, help!” the man called out, arms and legs flailing wildly. Because of his recent stunning, however, his voice couldn’t get much louder than a whisper making the chances of anyone other than her actually hearing him near zero. His face was a paper wide mask of pure terror, as he looked up at the seven foot metal giant perched on top of him.
“Please, please sir!” he gasped, “I…I’m just a man of science! I…I just work for the government for the paycheck! I’ve got nothing against the rebels! Please, don’t hurt me!” His struggles diminished as he realized he couldn’t possibly fight his way free. All he could do was beg.
“Calm down man,” Andrea said, removing her helmet to let her long, blonde locks spill out, “I am a registered soldier of the rebellion, a resistance movement engaged in a legal conflict against your government. I cannot cause you physical injury, per the Articles of War, or I will be up against charges.”
“Then what…what are you going to do…do with me…ma’am?” His fear did not vanish, but there was enough truth in her words to reassure him a bit.
“Well, I was thinking about using a Mental Probe,” Andrea grinned evilly, “Then not only will I be able to download your memories, I can plant a few subliminal commands. What do you think about that, Mr. Scientist?” She squirted the neurotransmitter gel directly on his forehead, coating the area in green.
“Wh…what? No! No you can’t! Please! Help, help! She’s crazy! Those….those things can cause brain damage! Help!” the man started vainly struggling again, looking from side to side, pleading for the sight of government troops to come to his rescue. There were none.
“SHHHHHHHH,” Andrea whispered, pushing down on his shoulders with both hands. She had enough strength to break both of his arms, so just holding them down was a piece of cake, “Calm down. A Mental Probe can do that, that’s why their use is highly restricted. I would never hurt you, baby!” Andrea kissed him on the cheek, like a she would a small child.
“But…but…you said…said,” the man’s struggles died down again, a look of sheer desperation now on his face.
“According to the Articles of War, you CAN use a Mental probe on an enemy, but only when their conscious mind so wide opened, so defenseless that it won’t take damage. During orgasm,” With one yank, she ripped pulled his pants and undergarments off of him, leaving him naked from the waist down. Without hesitating, she pulled a silver disk from one of her suit’s many compartments, and stuck it to the man’s testicles.
“What! No! You…you couldn’t! You wouldn’t…god help me!” The man shrieked like a girl
To shut him up, Andrea kissed him, hard, her tongue pushing deeply into his mouth, exploring. It was almost a full minute before she broke the lip lock. Then she looked at his flaccid penis, her eyes taking in his body. He wasn’t a wall of muscles like the male soldier she knew, but he wasn’t in bad shape at all. This could be fun!
“You…you can’t make me…make me cum! Just…just because I’m not some rock hard soldier man doesn’t mean I’m weak!,” the man gasped, breathless from the kiss, “I won’t even give you the satisfaction of getting hard. I won’t surrender to someone like…like you…a filthy rebel!” He gace her sa look of pure hatred.
“Awe, muffin, you’re breaking my heart,” Andrea wiped off her mouth, “Of course you’re going to resist. This wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t. Maybe this will…help us reach a new understanding.” She hit a switch that turned on the silver disk, causing it to vibrate wildly.
“HE EHE EHEHEEHH WHAAH AHAHAHA AHAHA WHAHAHAHAAATTAT AHA AHAHAHA WWHAHAHAAT AHAHAHAHAH RAARREEEEEE HAHAHAH YOHUHUHUHU AHA AHAHAH DOOINNGGGGG HA AHAHAH A AHAHAHAHAHA TOHUHUHUHUHUHUHU AHAHAHAHAH MEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!!!”
The man started laughing at once, the metal pulsating on his genitals, sending ticklish wave after wave through his balls. His arms started waving back and forth again, feet kicking into the soft dirt. He hoped somehow his wild movements would knock the disk off of his body, but it was firmly attached.
“Poor baby,” Andrea caressed his cheek lovingly, “I’ve heard that testicles were really sensitive. This must be so hard for you.
“HAH AH AHAH ATAHHAHAHAHA HAH AHAHA TAHAHAHAAAKKKEEEEE HA AHAHH AHAH TAAAKAKAKEE E HA AHAH A AHAHAH ITTT HA AHAH AHAH OFFFFFFFFF HA AHAHA AHAH TAAAKKKAKAKAEEEE AHA AHAHAH ITTTTT OFFFFFFFFF HA AHAH AHAHA BIIHHIIITTCHCHCHHHH” Even as he laughed and screamed, a fury rolled off of him, fury at how she was abusing him.
“Sorry, I can’t do that lover. Of course, if you would just grow for me, all this unpleasantness would be behind us faster,” Andrea reached behind her and stroked the man’s limp penis, fingertips caressing it from base to head.
“GRRRR HE EHEH EHEHE NEHEHEHEHEHVVEEERRRR HE EHEH E EHEHEH NEVVVEERRR EHEHEHE BITTCHCHCHCH EH EHEH EE E EEHEHEHEHE E E EEEHEHEHEHEH!!!!!”
“Awe, muffin that hurts my feelings, and just when I’m being so nice to you,” she stroked his dick again, feeling it move underneath her fingers, “Here it comes. Let’s stiffen up for mommy,” Andrea said in a sing song voice.
The man could feel his penis respond, feel the blood rushing through his member. It was so difficult to stop it! He just…just couldn’t concentrate with that damn thing tickling his balls! It felt like a thousand feathers stroking his sack! It was…it was…unbearable!
“HE EHEH EH EHEHEH EEHEHEH NAWWOOOO EHE EHEHEHE NAWOOO STIHIHIHIHIHFFFEEHEHENNN EHE EHEHEHEHEH NAWOOO STIFFHIHHIFFIIINNNN H EHEHE O O O HE EHEHEHEHEHEH STAWWPPPP HE EHEHEH TOUCHIINNNGGGG HE EHEHEHEHEH MEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!!”
Andrea’s wandering fingertip found that flap of skin on the base of his penis’s head, and began caress it. The man began banging both fists on her armored chest as he howled with laughter. His kicking legs slowed, as his muscles tired.
“Yes, yes I think…I think we have….yes!” Andrea called out, “We have erection, I repeat, we have erection! Wow, Mr. Scientist, I had no idea you were so big!” She caressed his now firm shaft, making the man underneath her shudder.
“HE EH E E E E E E NAWOOOOOOOO!!!!! HE EHEHEHEHEH CANNN’TTTT HEHEHEH EHEHEH CANNN’TTT HE EHEHEHEHH STTAAHAHAHNNNDDD HA AH AHAHH AH A CAHAHAHAHHNNN’TTT HAHAH AHA A APLEAASSSSEEEE HAA AHAHAHAHAH MEERRCCYYYYYY AHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!”
“Soon, baby, soon,” Andrea said softly. From that same compartment, she pulled what looked like a prophylactic. The sheath, however, wasn’t made from rubber or lambskin. It was a cybernetic mesh, lined with circuits. She slipped in over his shaft effortlessly. It turned on with a noticeable hum.
“Now, do you want it set to hand job or blow job?” she asked him teasingly.
“HE EHEH EHEHE YOUHUHUHUU HE EHEH BITTCHCHCHCHCH HE EHEHEHEH YOUUHUHUHUHUU HE EHEH EHE WHOORRREEE EH E EHEHEHEHEHE EHEH GEHEHEHEHEETTT EHEHEHEH E E EHE OFFFF HE E E EHEHE MEHEHEHEHEHHE ESATW ST Oooooohhhhh gggRGRRR O O ooooOHHHHHHHHH N N AOOO GR HA AHAHAHA AHAHAH ooOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!”
The man’s body went spastic, twisting and turning like her was being electrocuted, as now not only were his balls being tickled, but is rock hard member was being stimulated as well. The cybersheath began gently contracting, rhythmically squeezing his penis. Andrea had to grab both of his wrists and pin his arms to stop him from hurting himself.
“That’s right, you’re being milk right now,” she whispered in his ear, leaning so close her breath tickled his ear, “Milked like a dairy cow! How does that make you feel? How does it make you feel to be a skinny, white cow?!”
“OHOOHOHO HOOO GODD GOD GOD NOAWWOOO I CANAHAHAHAHNNN’T AHAHAHHA OHOHOHOO I I CAHAHAHNNN’T OHOHO H AHA AHAAHAHAH CAAHAHAHNNNN’TTT HAHAHAH HOHOHOHOLLDD AHAHAH AHA AHAH CAHAHAHHHNNNN’T AHAHAHHH HOOJOOOOHOHOHOHOOOLLLLDDDD OHOHOHO HOHOHOOOHOHOO MEEERCCCYYYYYY HA AHAHAHAH CAHAHAHHHNN’TTT HAHAH OOOHHHHHHHH HOOOOOOOOOLLLDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!”
The scientist’s eyes were rolling back into his skull, as he was obviously trying to resist the tender ministrations of the Masturbator. His small hands clenched into fists as he seemed to be gathering all his willpower to try and hold on. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“It sounds like its humming petty good, pulsating on your dick,” Andrea whispered again, “That must be hand job mode. You must be pretty determined not to give in, because I’ve heard that a good hand job is a bitch to resist. Too bad for you it gets worse,” Andrea licked his ear lobe, trying to push the man over the edge.
“OOOOOOOOOOO HE E E E EHEH E EHE NOOAAWWWW E E EEHEHEH CAAHAHAHAH AHAHAH CAAHAHNNNNNNTTT AHA AHAH AH A A AHHAHAH oooOOOOaaa A A A aha ahahaAHA AHAH IVEEEE HA AHAHAH GAWWTTTTT AHA AHAHAHHAHAH IVVEEEE AHAHAHAHA GAHHHHTTTTTT AHAHA A AA GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUURRGUGUGU!!!!”
Whatever protest the man was trying to make broke down into a series of gurgles, as the sound the of the Masturbator changed to a higher pitch. His body suddenly went limp, almost boneless. A low groaning noise came from his trembling lips.
“It really doesn’t matter what you’ve got, baby. You will give in. That must be blow job mode. The Masturbator is simulating a hot, wet tongue running up and down your shaft, sliding across your foreskin with a skill only match by a sex professional.” Andrea turned off the vibrator tickling his balls. That would only be a distraction.
The man’s eyes looked straight into Andrea’s deep blue ones, and the soldier girl saw a look of pure despair, a man standing helpless on the edge of a cliff, knowing he’s about to go over, but unable to do anything about it. For a second, Andrea’s heart almost went out to him.
“Please,” he said one last time, with no hysteria drowning out his speech, “I’ve got a …HHUUHHUhhH!!”
With that last word, the scientist climaxed, pumping his cum into the cybernetic sheath. His hips thrust forward for what seemed like forever, as his last bit of willpower, last bit of resistance was pushed out of his penis.
At that same moment, the Mental Probe in Andrea’s armor sent its signal to the goo on the man’s forehead, then deep into his brain. His eyes rolled back as the beam pierced his mind, his every memory was read and recorded, then adjusted his personality and emotions to fit the rebel cause.
The entire thing took less than a second, but Andrea knew it changed the man forever.
Releasing him, Andrea put her helmet back on, and checked the HUD. Yes, all the needed data was stored on the suit’s hard drive. It wouldn’t be everything that the raid had hoped to accomplish, but it would be something.
“What’s your name?” she asked the scientist as she climbed off of him.
“Simon,” he replied shortly, having lost the ability to lie to her. He was looking up at her with pure love and adoration, as if she were the most beautiful, desirable creature he had laid eyes on. There was also a confusion, as if he knew the new emotion didn’t make sense, but lacked the strength to fight it. He was putty in her hands.
“You know what to do?” she asked him in an assertive tone.
“Yes… mistress,” the last word came grudgingly from his lips, as if he just couldn’t hold it in, “Tomorrow I will quit my job and report to the secret rebel base whose location is now stored in my brain. There I will surrender to the rebel leaders and help them make sense of all the data you obtained from my head.” He said it very matter of fact voice, sounding completely indifferent. If he resented becoming a traitor and helping an enemy he had spent the last years fighting, you couldn’t tell. And if the brain washing had worked correctly, it didn’t matter.
“Very good. And after that, they will send you to my quarters, where you will be my play thing.” She patted him on his bare behind as he stood up. She then slid the sheath of of his shrinking member, and sealed it shut to protect the valuable milky liquid inside.
“Understand, that by the Articles of War, you belong to me. If I have to, I can prove my ownership of you with this DNA sample. If I have to do that because you don’t report, you will be punished when I get my hands on you. Well, punished more than you already will be for calling me a whore and a bitch. Do you understand slave?” Andrea stored the precious DNA and did a quick system check even as she was talking, to make sure her power suit was ready.
“Yes, mistress. I will be there.” Now there was just a trace of sadness in his voice, as if going to her quarters would mean the loss of something he treasured but now had to surrender. Again, that feeling of sadness washed over Andrea. She had the data. Why was she…?
Even as he said she was puzzling through the moral dilema, voices could be heard in the distance. It was the government search party, just a few minutes late.
Without another word, Andrea hit her boosters, shooting up over the trees. It wasn’t until she was airborne, looking through the data she had obtained that she realized Simon had a wife. That would explain the sadness and despair Simon had been feeling.
Well, war always made widows of women. In other times, Simon would be dead, or missing in action, and his wife would have to prepare for a lifetime without him. At least now she would know he was alive and safe, even if he had become the sex slave of another woman, that she might get him back one day.
Andrea glanced down, seeing one government soldier pointing up at her while another tried to help Simon put his pants back on. They were right. War had changed.
* * * * * *
General Hadatta sat in the small room that served as the command center for the resistance movement. He had spent all morning reviewing all the information available about their little rebellion, maps, troop movements, production numbers, everything. Each new piece of data made the slowly developing picture clearer and clearer.
They were losing the war.
Not that many people would have been surprised by that fact. From the beginning, the government had had more soldiers, more equipment and stronger defensive positions. But Hadatta knew how to compensate for those factors. He was the leading expert in guerrilla warfare. Simply being at a numeric disadvantage didn’t faze him at all.
What was killing them were the security leaks. At the end of every battle they lost, and even some they won, the enemy managed to capture a few of his key officers. The information they were able to get off them had led to the government’s biggest victories. You just couldn’t coordinate hit and run attacks without absolute secrecy.
Not that the general could blame his people for confessing all after they were captured. He had personally experienced the tickling torments that could be brought to bear on a prisoner of war. He too had been captured in an earlier war.
Early in his military career, more than a century ago, his country had gotten into a border conflict with the nation to the south. He had been a loyal government soldier than, an Imperial Ranger, the best of the best. And he’d still fallen at Devil’s Run.
Every soldier had a battle he or she would never forget, one they dreamt about, one that caused them to wake up in a cold sweat. For Hadatta, that battle was Devil’s Run. They’d been badly outnumbered, the air so fun of leech beams that everything had a purple glow around it. He had only been a lieutenant than, leading a charge in his older Mark II power suit. His platoon had found a path up a hillside that actually gave them a bit of cover and let them attack an enemy squadron from the rear. Things had looked promising, victory only a short distance away.
Then it happened. The other side used a tremor accelerator, and the ground started quaking, rising and falling like the sea on a choppy day. The servos on the old Mark II’s couldn’t adjust fast enough to the changing terrain, and Hadatta had ended up on the ground. He had tried to stand, but was knocked down every time. Then the air strike had started, leach bomb’s pouring down from the sky. His suit had gone from full charge to zero in a matter of seconds.
He had been captured, and taken to a torture facility deep inside enemy territory. That had been before the Mental Probe, before the enemy could just read his mind, when a prisoner still had a chance to hold out. The enemy, however, had the Tickleotron, and they had used it liberally on Hadatta.
Every day, Hadatta would report to his interrogator, Melody. He would be strapped into the Tickleotron, naked, and she would stoke his penis while asking him key military questions. She had the softest hands Hadatta had ever felt, with palms like silk and nimble, talented fingers that knew exactly how to caress a man. .” This was before the Masturbator, and women with melody’s…skill set were much in demand.
“Answer me lover,” she would say seductively, her devilish left hand petting his fully erect manhood, “Tell me, so I don’t have to use the machine. Tell me, and I can make it feel soooooo good
Of course, Hadatta had resisted, telling the dark haired minx to go to hell. Without batting an eye, she had turned on the Tickleotron. Even after all these years, he still shuddered when he remembered that evil machine. It had been a device capable of directly stimulating the nervous system, a machine that could tickle every square inch of your body without ever touching your skin. It had felt like a million, million ants crawling all over you, their little legs squirming between your toes, behind your knees and in the crack of your ass. It was absolutely unbearable, a hysterical agony beyond any words.
And Hadatta had screamed, laughing as loud as was humanly possible, howling like a madman, bellowing like a lunatic. And when he had laughed too much, laughed so hard his lungs burned like fire, and his throat was raw and red, the machine would suppress his laughter, leaving him just quivering with repressed hysteria. She left the machine on for what felt like an eternity.
“Tell me lover,” Melody would say after the Tickleotron was shut down, finger right on the head of his penis, “Don’t make me do that to you again. There are…so many more fun things that we can do.”
And he had told. Oh, it had been a simple enough question, something he was sure that the enemy had known anyways, but he knew he should have defied them. But the Tickleotron…he couldn’t…just couldn’t…not again…
And when he told, Melody stroked him harder, faster, letting his pleasure build and build as she told him what a good boy that was. Then she asked him another, harmless sounding question, and he had answered that one as well. By that time, his manhood had been throbbing, filling him with need. Then she allowed him to cum. It had felt so good, even though he was deeply ashamed at breaking.
There were other questions, other days. Melody started asking about more and more sensitive topics, probing into more top secret areas. And Hadatta had refused, refused even as those talented fingers danced over his shaft, and he paid for it. The Tickleotron was used on him again and again. And every time, he ended up answering the question, avoiding the machine and being rewarded by Melody with a fierce orgasm. And each time, his shame increased.
He tried, but caught between the horror of the Tickleotron and the pure Joy of Melody, it was no wonder he ended up telling the enemy everything, every military secret he knew, his knowledge of future attacks, the real weaknesses of his country’s army, the kind of things that could change the war.
It wasn’t long after that that his country surrendered, giving up the disputed territory on the border.
The guilt Hadatta felt about that was immense. He told himself that the enemy probably would have learned those secrets anyways. He had hardly been their only captive, and some of the others had been of even a higher rank. And surely they hadn’t held out, not against the Tickleotron. But what if…what if…it had been all his fault? What if he was to blame for his country’s disgrace?
So if anything, Hadatta sympathized with his soldiers who were even now spiling their guts to the government. They too would feel that guilt and shame if the rebels lost. He desperately wanted to spare them that, as much as if would spare them the tickle torture if he could. At least now the Tickleotron had been outlawed under the Articles of War.
The only hope the rebellion Hadatta had was that he could get even better secrets from the government soldiers that they captured, something that would trump everything his own people were telling the government. If he could find that one, single fact, that needle in a haystack, maybe he could change the entire course of the war. Maybe he could grab victory out of the jaws of defeat.
So every day he looked through pile after pile of data, transcripts of every Mental Probe taken of every government soldier they captured. It was probably hopeless, but maybe…just maybe….
Andrea knew that Cyana was gone because command functions had transferred to her HUD at exactly 1841 hours, or twelve minutes into the fight. When it had become obvious the battle was lost, Andrea had used those command functions to order the squad to retreat. Those with enough power left to activate their boosters had. Andrea suit had been too depleted to join them.
Instead, she’d pulled back from the fighting and managed to lose herself in a dense wood. Staying in the thickest part, Andrea managed to circle around behind outpost, and was now approaching it from the rear. If her guess was right, she was less than a stone’s throw from the building, and no one on the other side knew she was there. Maybe she could accomplish the mission objectives after all.
It was Andrea’s HUD that sounded the alert. There was a heat source deeper into the woods that fit the profile of a human not wearing a power suit. Zooming in, she saw it was a man, staggering through the forest as if drunk, wearing the uniform of a government scientist. He barely seemed aware of his surroundings, nearly walking into several trees.
“Why the hell would he be out here during an attack?” Andrea whispered to herself. Of course! The stun grenades! Had the man been outside during the first moments of the attack, they would have rendered him unconscious. He may have just woken up, still dazed and confused from the blast. Either way, Andrea knew this was a golden opportunity, as enemy soldiers didn’t come looking for him.
Andrea snuck up him, keeping as quiet as possible. For a moment, she considered just snatching him up, throwing him over her shoulder and blasting off. Her HUD, however, showed it would be at least 15 minutes before she had enough power to do that, and she didn’t have that kind of time. With the attack over, a search patrol could come looking for him at any moment. No, it was time for plan ‘B’.
Like a lion stalking a lone gazelle, she pounced, knocking the man to the ground, forcing him to lie prone on his back. He struggled, of course, blows falling on Andrea’s power suit, but those could do was bruise the man’s hands. She planted her hand on his chest, pinning him to the ground. He tried to push her away, put the suit’s servos gave her three times his strength. It was impossible
“Help, help!” the man called out, arms and legs flailing wildly. Because of his recent stunning, however, his voice couldn’t get much louder than a whisper making the chances of anyone other than her actually hearing him near zero. His face was a paper wide mask of pure terror, as he looked up at the seven foot metal giant perched on top of him.
“Please, please sir!” he gasped, “I…I’m just a man of science! I…I just work for the government for the paycheck! I’ve got nothing against the rebels! Please, don’t hurt me!” His struggles diminished as he realized he couldn’t possibly fight his way free. All he could do was beg.
“Calm down man,” Andrea said, removing her helmet to let her long, blonde locks spill out, “I am a registered soldier of the rebellion, a resistance movement engaged in a legal conflict against your government. I cannot cause you physical injury, per the Articles of War, or I will be up against charges.”
“Then what…what are you going to do…do with me…ma’am?” His fear did not vanish, but there was enough truth in her words to reassure him a bit.
“Well, I was thinking about using a Mental Probe,” Andrea grinned evilly, “Then not only will I be able to download your memories, I can plant a few subliminal commands. What do you think about that, Mr. Scientist?” She squirted the neurotransmitter gel directly on his forehead, coating the area in green.
“Wh…what? No! No you can’t! Please! Help, help! She’s crazy! Those….those things can cause brain damage! Help!” the man started vainly struggling again, looking from side to side, pleading for the sight of government troops to come to his rescue. There were none.
“SHHHHHHHH,” Andrea whispered, pushing down on his shoulders with both hands. She had enough strength to break both of his arms, so just holding them down was a piece of cake, “Calm down. A Mental Probe can do that, that’s why their use is highly restricted. I would never hurt you, baby!” Andrea kissed him on the cheek, like a she would a small child.
“But…but…you said…said,” the man’s struggles died down again, a look of sheer desperation now on his face.
“According to the Articles of War, you CAN use a Mental probe on an enemy, but only when their conscious mind so wide opened, so defenseless that it won’t take damage. During orgasm,” With one yank, she ripped pulled his pants and undergarments off of him, leaving him naked from the waist down. Without hesitating, she pulled a silver disk from one of her suit’s many compartments, and stuck it to the man’s testicles.
“What! No! You…you couldn’t! You wouldn’t…god help me!” The man shrieked like a girl
To shut him up, Andrea kissed him, hard, her tongue pushing deeply into his mouth, exploring. It was almost a full minute before she broke the lip lock. Then she looked at his flaccid penis, her eyes taking in his body. He wasn’t a wall of muscles like the male soldier she knew, but he wasn’t in bad shape at all. This could be fun!
“You…you can’t make me…make me cum! Just…just because I’m not some rock hard soldier man doesn’t mean I’m weak!,” the man gasped, breathless from the kiss, “I won’t even give you the satisfaction of getting hard. I won’t surrender to someone like…like you…a filthy rebel!” He gace her sa look of pure hatred.
“Awe, muffin, you’re breaking my heart,” Andrea wiped off her mouth, “Of course you’re going to resist. This wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t. Maybe this will…help us reach a new understanding.” She hit a switch that turned on the silver disk, causing it to vibrate wildly.
“HE EHE EHEHEEHH WHAAH AHAHAHA AHAHA WHAHAHAHAAATTAT AHA AHAHAHA WWHAHAHAAT AHAHAHAHAH RAARREEEEEE HAHAHAH YOHUHUHUHU AHA AHAHAH DOOINNGGGGG HA AHAHAH A AHAHAHAHAHA TOHUHUHUHUHUHUHU AHAHAHAHAH MEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!!!”
The man started laughing at once, the metal pulsating on his genitals, sending ticklish wave after wave through his balls. His arms started waving back and forth again, feet kicking into the soft dirt. He hoped somehow his wild movements would knock the disk off of his body, but it was firmly attached.
“Poor baby,” Andrea caressed his cheek lovingly, “I’ve heard that testicles were really sensitive. This must be so hard for you.
“HAH AH AHAH ATAHHAHAHAHA HAH AHAHA TAHAHAHAAAKKKEEEEE HA AHAHH AHAH TAAAKAKAKEE E HA AHAH A AHAHAH ITTT HA AHAH AHAH OFFFFFFFFF HA AHAHA AHAH TAAAKKKAKAKAEEEE AHA AHAHAH ITTTTT OFFFFFFFFF HA AHAH AHAHA BIIHHIIITTCHCHCHHHH” Even as he laughed and screamed, a fury rolled off of him, fury at how she was abusing him.
“Sorry, I can’t do that lover. Of course, if you would just grow for me, all this unpleasantness would be behind us faster,” Andrea reached behind her and stroked the man’s limp penis, fingertips caressing it from base to head.
“GRRRR HE EHEH EHEHE NEHEHEHEHEHVVEEERRRR HE EHEH E EHEHEH NEVVVEERRR EHEHEHE BITTCHCHCHCH EH EHEH EE E EEHEHEHEHE E E EEEHEHEHEHEH!!!!!”
“Awe, muffin that hurts my feelings, and just when I’m being so nice to you,” she stroked his dick again, feeling it move underneath her fingers, “Here it comes. Let’s stiffen up for mommy,” Andrea said in a sing song voice.
The man could feel his penis respond, feel the blood rushing through his member. It was so difficult to stop it! He just…just couldn’t concentrate with that damn thing tickling his balls! It felt like a thousand feathers stroking his sack! It was…it was…unbearable!
“HE EHEH EH EHEHEH EEHEHEH NAWWOOOO EHE EHEHEHE NAWOOO STIHIHIHIHIHFFFEEHEHENNN EHE EHEHEHEHEH NAWOOO STIFFHIHHIFFIIINNNN H EHEHE O O O HE EHEHEHEHEHEH STAWWPPPP HE EHEHEH TOUCHIINNNGGGG HE EHEHEHEHEH MEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!!”
Andrea’s wandering fingertip found that flap of skin on the base of his penis’s head, and began caress it. The man began banging both fists on her armored chest as he howled with laughter. His kicking legs slowed, as his muscles tired.
“Yes, yes I think…I think we have….yes!” Andrea called out, “We have erection, I repeat, we have erection! Wow, Mr. Scientist, I had no idea you were so big!” She caressed his now firm shaft, making the man underneath her shudder.
“HE EH E E E E E E NAWOOOOOOOO!!!!! HE EHEHEHEHEH CANNN’TTTT HEHEHEH EHEHEH CANNN’TTT HE EHEHEHEHH STTAAHAHAHNNNDDD HA AH AHAHH AH A CAHAHAHAHHNNN’TTT HAHAH AHA A APLEAASSSSEEEE HAA AHAHAHAHAH MEERRCCYYYYYY AHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!”
“Soon, baby, soon,” Andrea said softly. From that same compartment, she pulled what looked like a prophylactic. The sheath, however, wasn’t made from rubber or lambskin. It was a cybernetic mesh, lined with circuits. She slipped in over his shaft effortlessly. It turned on with a noticeable hum.
“Now, do you want it set to hand job or blow job?” she asked him teasingly.
“HE EHEH EHEHE YOUHUHUHUU HE EHEH BITTCHCHCHCHCH HE EHEHEHEH YOUUHUHUHUHUU HE EHEH EHE WHOORRREEE EH E EHEHEHEHEHE EHEH GEHEHEHEHEETTT EHEHEHEH E E EHE OFFFF HE E E EHEHE MEHEHEHEHEHHE ESATW ST Oooooohhhhh gggRGRRR O O ooooOHHHHHHHHH N N AOOO GR HA AHAHAHA AHAHAH ooOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!”
The man’s body went spastic, twisting and turning like her was being electrocuted, as now not only were his balls being tickled, but is rock hard member was being stimulated as well. The cybersheath began gently contracting, rhythmically squeezing his penis. Andrea had to grab both of his wrists and pin his arms to stop him from hurting himself.
“That’s right, you’re being milk right now,” she whispered in his ear, leaning so close her breath tickled his ear, “Milked like a dairy cow! How does that make you feel? How does it make you feel to be a skinny, white cow?!”
“OHOOHOHO HOOO GODD GOD GOD NOAWWOOO I CANAHAHAHAHNNN’T AHAHAHHA OHOHOHOO I I CAHAHAHNNN’T OHOHO H AHA AHAAHAHAH CAAHAHAHNNNN’TTT HAHAHAH HOHOHOHOLLDD AHAHAH AHA AHAH CAHAHAHHHNNNN’T AHAHAHHH HOOJOOOOHOHOHOHOOOLLLLDDDD OHOHOHO HOHOHOOOHOHOO MEEERCCCYYYYYY HA AHAHAHAH CAHAHAHHHNN’TTT HAHAH OOOHHHHHHHH HOOOOOOOOOLLLDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!”
The scientist’s eyes were rolling back into his skull, as he was obviously trying to resist the tender ministrations of the Masturbator. His small hands clenched into fists as he seemed to be gathering all his willpower to try and hold on. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“It sounds like its humming petty good, pulsating on your dick,” Andrea whispered again, “That must be hand job mode. You must be pretty determined not to give in, because I’ve heard that a good hand job is a bitch to resist. Too bad for you it gets worse,” Andrea licked his ear lobe, trying to push the man over the edge.
“OOOOOOOOOOO HE E E E EHEH E EHE NOOAAWWWW E E EEHEHEH CAAHAHAHAH AHAHAH CAAHAHNNNNNNTTT AHA AHAH AH A A AHHAHAH oooOOOOaaa A A A aha ahahaAHA AHAH IVEEEE HA AHAHAH GAWWTTTTT AHA AHAHAHHAHAH IVVEEEE AHAHAHAHA GAHHHHTTTTTT AHAHA A AA GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUURRGUGUGU!!!!”
Whatever protest the man was trying to make broke down into a series of gurgles, as the sound the of the Masturbator changed to a higher pitch. His body suddenly went limp, almost boneless. A low groaning noise came from his trembling lips.
“It really doesn’t matter what you’ve got, baby. You will give in. That must be blow job mode. The Masturbator is simulating a hot, wet tongue running up and down your shaft, sliding across your foreskin with a skill only match by a sex professional.” Andrea turned off the vibrator tickling his balls. That would only be a distraction.
The man’s eyes looked straight into Andrea’s deep blue ones, and the soldier girl saw a look of pure despair, a man standing helpless on the edge of a cliff, knowing he’s about to go over, but unable to do anything about it. For a second, Andrea’s heart almost went out to him.
“Please,” he said one last time, with no hysteria drowning out his speech, “I’ve got a …HHUUHHUhhH!!”
With that last word, the scientist climaxed, pumping his cum into the cybernetic sheath. His hips thrust forward for what seemed like forever, as his last bit of willpower, last bit of resistance was pushed out of his penis.
At that same moment, the Mental Probe in Andrea’s armor sent its signal to the goo on the man’s forehead, then deep into his brain. His eyes rolled back as the beam pierced his mind, his every memory was read and recorded, then adjusted his personality and emotions to fit the rebel cause.
The entire thing took less than a second, but Andrea knew it changed the man forever.
Releasing him, Andrea put her helmet back on, and checked the HUD. Yes, all the needed data was stored on the suit’s hard drive. It wouldn’t be everything that the raid had hoped to accomplish, but it would be something.
“What’s your name?” she asked the scientist as she climbed off of him.
“Simon,” he replied shortly, having lost the ability to lie to her. He was looking up at her with pure love and adoration, as if she were the most beautiful, desirable creature he had laid eyes on. There was also a confusion, as if he knew the new emotion didn’t make sense, but lacked the strength to fight it. He was putty in her hands.
“You know what to do?” she asked him in an assertive tone.
“Yes… mistress,” the last word came grudgingly from his lips, as if he just couldn’t hold it in, “Tomorrow I will quit my job and report to the secret rebel base whose location is now stored in my brain. There I will surrender to the rebel leaders and help them make sense of all the data you obtained from my head.” He said it very matter of fact voice, sounding completely indifferent. If he resented becoming a traitor and helping an enemy he had spent the last years fighting, you couldn’t tell. And if the brain washing had worked correctly, it didn’t matter.
“Very good. And after that, they will send you to my quarters, where you will be my play thing.” She patted him on his bare behind as he stood up. She then slid the sheath of of his shrinking member, and sealed it shut to protect the valuable milky liquid inside.
“Understand, that by the Articles of War, you belong to me. If I have to, I can prove my ownership of you with this DNA sample. If I have to do that because you don’t report, you will be punished when I get my hands on you. Well, punished more than you already will be for calling me a whore and a bitch. Do you understand slave?” Andrea stored the precious DNA and did a quick system check even as she was talking, to make sure her power suit was ready.
“Yes, mistress. I will be there.” Now there was just a trace of sadness in his voice, as if going to her quarters would mean the loss of something he treasured but now had to surrender. Again, that feeling of sadness washed over Andrea. She had the data. Why was she…?
Even as he said she was puzzling through the moral dilema, voices could be heard in the distance. It was the government search party, just a few minutes late.
Without another word, Andrea hit her boosters, shooting up over the trees. It wasn’t until she was airborne, looking through the data she had obtained that she realized Simon had a wife. That would explain the sadness and despair Simon had been feeling.
Well, war always made widows of women. In other times, Simon would be dead, or missing in action, and his wife would have to prepare for a lifetime without him. At least now she would know he was alive and safe, even if he had become the sex slave of another woman, that she might get him back one day.
Andrea glanced down, seeing one government soldier pointing up at her while another tried to help Simon put his pants back on. They were right. War had changed.
* * * * * *
General Hadatta sat in the small room that served as the command center for the resistance movement. He had spent all morning reviewing all the information available about their little rebellion, maps, troop movements, production numbers, everything. Each new piece of data made the slowly developing picture clearer and clearer.
They were losing the war.
Not that many people would have been surprised by that fact. From the beginning, the government had had more soldiers, more equipment and stronger defensive positions. But Hadatta knew how to compensate for those factors. He was the leading expert in guerrilla warfare. Simply being at a numeric disadvantage didn’t faze him at all.
What was killing them were the security leaks. At the end of every battle they lost, and even some they won, the enemy managed to capture a few of his key officers. The information they were able to get off them had led to the government’s biggest victories. You just couldn’t coordinate hit and run attacks without absolute secrecy.
Not that the general could blame his people for confessing all after they were captured. He had personally experienced the tickling torments that could be brought to bear on a prisoner of war. He too had been captured in an earlier war.
Early in his military career, more than a century ago, his country had gotten into a border conflict with the nation to the south. He had been a loyal government soldier than, an Imperial Ranger, the best of the best. And he’d still fallen at Devil’s Run.
Every soldier had a battle he or she would never forget, one they dreamt about, one that caused them to wake up in a cold sweat. For Hadatta, that battle was Devil’s Run. They’d been badly outnumbered, the air so fun of leech beams that everything had a purple glow around it. He had only been a lieutenant than, leading a charge in his older Mark II power suit. His platoon had found a path up a hillside that actually gave them a bit of cover and let them attack an enemy squadron from the rear. Things had looked promising, victory only a short distance away.
Then it happened. The other side used a tremor accelerator, and the ground started quaking, rising and falling like the sea on a choppy day. The servos on the old Mark II’s couldn’t adjust fast enough to the changing terrain, and Hadatta had ended up on the ground. He had tried to stand, but was knocked down every time. Then the air strike had started, leach bomb’s pouring down from the sky. His suit had gone from full charge to zero in a matter of seconds.
He had been captured, and taken to a torture facility deep inside enemy territory. That had been before the Mental Probe, before the enemy could just read his mind, when a prisoner still had a chance to hold out. The enemy, however, had the Tickleotron, and they had used it liberally on Hadatta.
Every day, Hadatta would report to his interrogator, Melody. He would be strapped into the Tickleotron, naked, and she would stoke his penis while asking him key military questions. She had the softest hands Hadatta had ever felt, with palms like silk and nimble, talented fingers that knew exactly how to caress a man. .” This was before the Masturbator, and women with melody’s…skill set were much in demand.
“Answer me lover,” she would say seductively, her devilish left hand petting his fully erect manhood, “Tell me, so I don’t have to use the machine. Tell me, and I can make it feel soooooo good
Of course, Hadatta had resisted, telling the dark haired minx to go to hell. Without batting an eye, she had turned on the Tickleotron. Even after all these years, he still shuddered when he remembered that evil machine. It had been a device capable of directly stimulating the nervous system, a machine that could tickle every square inch of your body without ever touching your skin. It had felt like a million, million ants crawling all over you, their little legs squirming between your toes, behind your knees and in the crack of your ass. It was absolutely unbearable, a hysterical agony beyond any words.
And Hadatta had screamed, laughing as loud as was humanly possible, howling like a madman, bellowing like a lunatic. And when he had laughed too much, laughed so hard his lungs burned like fire, and his throat was raw and red, the machine would suppress his laughter, leaving him just quivering with repressed hysteria. She left the machine on for what felt like an eternity.
“Tell me lover,” Melody would say after the Tickleotron was shut down, finger right on the head of his penis, “Don’t make me do that to you again. There are…so many more fun things that we can do.”
And he had told. Oh, it had been a simple enough question, something he was sure that the enemy had known anyways, but he knew he should have defied them. But the Tickleotron…he couldn’t…just couldn’t…not again…
And when he told, Melody stroked him harder, faster, letting his pleasure build and build as she told him what a good boy that was. Then she asked him another, harmless sounding question, and he had answered that one as well. By that time, his manhood had been throbbing, filling him with need. Then she allowed him to cum. It had felt so good, even though he was deeply ashamed at breaking.
There were other questions, other days. Melody started asking about more and more sensitive topics, probing into more top secret areas. And Hadatta had refused, refused even as those talented fingers danced over his shaft, and he paid for it. The Tickleotron was used on him again and again. And every time, he ended up answering the question, avoiding the machine and being rewarded by Melody with a fierce orgasm. And each time, his shame increased.
He tried, but caught between the horror of the Tickleotron and the pure Joy of Melody, it was no wonder he ended up telling the enemy everything, every military secret he knew, his knowledge of future attacks, the real weaknesses of his country’s army, the kind of things that could change the war.
It wasn’t long after that that his country surrendered, giving up the disputed territory on the border.
The guilt Hadatta felt about that was immense. He told himself that the enemy probably would have learned those secrets anyways. He had hardly been their only captive, and some of the others had been of even a higher rank. And surely they hadn’t held out, not against the Tickleotron. But what if…what if…it had been all his fault? What if he was to blame for his country’s disgrace?
So if anything, Hadatta sympathized with his soldiers who were even now spiling their guts to the government. They too would feel that guilt and shame if the rebels lost. He desperately wanted to spare them that, as much as if would spare them the tickle torture if he could. At least now the Tickleotron had been outlawed under the Articles of War.
The only hope the rebellion Hadatta had was that he could get even better secrets from the government soldiers that they captured, something that would trump everything his own people were telling the government. If he could find that one, single fact, that needle in a haystack, maybe he could change the entire course of the war. Maybe he could grab victory out of the jaws of defeat.
So every day he looked through pile after pile of data, transcripts of every Mental Probe taken of every government soldier they captured. It was probably hopeless, but maybe…just maybe….
