I'm sure others have written Princess Leia stories around here, but there's always room for one more, right?
Feedback, as usual, is welcome!
Before the Rescue: A Star Wars FanFic (m/f)
by
Kid Indy
"Who are you?"
"Someone who loves you."
"Leia!"
With that, the trap's spring tripped, and the deep chuckle was unmistakable.
"What's that? I know that laugh."
Leia turned to see a curtain open, and behind it was Jabba, armed guards, laughing sycophants. She knew that there was nowhere to run in the deep bowels of the fortress. Han began to bargain, but Leia had picked up enough Huttese to know that the enormous gangster planned to feed her newly-freed lover to the Bantha.
"I'll pay you triple! You're throwing away a fortune here. Don't be a fool!" Leia watched as they pulled him away from Jabba's throne and towards his private prison. Leia felt a hand on her arm and glanced up long enough to realize that it was Lando; perhaps a quick escape was in the cards. But just as they were about to turn, once again she heard a Huttese phrase that she could piece together.
"Bring her to me!"
Now Lando's hand, and another guard's, pulled her towards the Hutt. She attempted bravado: "We have powerful friends! You're going to regret this!"
"I'm sure..." The laughter in the room surrounded her as the Hutt licked his gigantic, fleshy lips. Leia turned away from the hideous mass that was now inches from her own face. Jabba began to speak in phrases that Leia could not understand, but C-3PO translated for her when she did not immediately respond.
"His Majesty wants to see the gift that Solo's Wookiee has given him. He demands that you remove all of your clothes and stand before him."
The guards released her arms, and she stood defiant. "I'm not going to give you any such gift, Jabba!"
Again Threepio had to translate his next speech: "The mighty Jabba says that he will either see his new slave naked, or she will watch Han Solo cut into steaks... with a dull knife. The Princess will decide which."
Leia gritted her teeth. She knew that Luke was only two days behind her, that if she could delay the Hutt's plans for them, that he could rescue them. But to strip down in front of this company was an indignity the likes of which she could hardly stomach. But without a choice, she began to remove the Bounty Hunter armor that had served as her disguise.
The hooting and leering room made each piece's removal a humiliation, and when finally she stood naked in front of Jabba, there was nothing short of an ovation of applause. From somewhere behind her a pile of metal and leather fell at her feet, and she did not need any droid's translation to know that the skimpy dancing-girl's outfit was all that she had to cover herself up. So she did. The hoots and jeers continued as she put on the bikini. She noticed, though, that nothing was forthcoming to cover her feet.
"What, Jabba, are you so cheap that you won't give me any shoes to wear? I can't do much dancing on this floor without some shoes."
Jabba's response once again came to her through the golden interpreter. "His Majesty says that if you were a Twi'lek, he would have you dancing through the night, but human girls just can't do what a Twi'lek can. But there are other entertainments that you can learn to provide."
Leia's face wrinkled into a question, but before she could put words to her confusion, a metallic hum echoed in the chamber, and Leia's feet lifted from the ground. She tried to turn to look, but the movement of her neck sent her whole body into a spin, a full meter off the ground. Whatever had happened, she now had no sense of where up and down were--her body was drifting and spinning, changing directions every time her neck, shoulder, or hip moved. Although her relationship to the floor of the filthy palace was severed, she could still hear as the the rabble in the throne room laughed and hooted at her predicament. She determined to hold still, not to let these criminals enjoy her zero-gravity humiliation too much.
Then the next trap sprang.
She heard the whistle of the thin ropes first, then realized that they had looped themselves around her bare ankles, then around one wrist, then the other. They began to pull her limbs out from her torso, and although she pulled to resist, her lack of purchase on the ground meant that she could not resist as her arms and legs were pulled into an X. Leia regained a sense of up-and-down and realized that she was suspended in the air, head towards the ceiling, and that her feet were a full meter from the ground. Looking to the ends of her ropes, she realized that service droids, two R2 units and two larger droids with short cranes, had lassoed her wrists and ankles and were pulling her limbs outward, the tall ones up towards the ceiling and the short ones down towards the floor. There she hung, on nothing but silk cords, for everyone to see.
A humanoid figure in a bright orange outfit began to approach her. She could see that his left hand held some kind of micro-injection device, the sort that physicians used to inject medicine without using a needle. She began to squirm as she saw it coming, but her droid captors could not be moved by someone not touching the ground.
"Don't bother trying to break free, my beauty. The droids are far too heavy for you to move. Just try to relax, and enjoy the first hour of the rest of your life."
Leia was confused, but at least, she thought, this one didn't need an interpreter. His accent dropped the "r" sounds, the sign of someone trying to sound aristocratic, but he still spoke her language. "Whatever you do to me, you'll pay for it soon. Don't be a fool!"
Again it was the room's turn to laugh. The man lifted the hood from his head to reveal a handsome face, perhaps a man in his thirties. He wore a thick metallic headband, the sort that bounty hunters sometimes wore, some sort of mechanism concealed beneath glowing lights. "Now hold still. You should save your energy at this point." Leia, still held up in the air like a floating trophy, pulled on the cords to no avail as the man applied the hydraulic injector to the inside of her thigh and depressed the plunger. Starting with the inside of that leg and then spreading to the rest of her body, she could feel a strange warmth just under her skin.
"What did you do to me?"
"Do you mean the tractor beam or the injection? Ah, I should tell you about both. You're floating, at the moment, in a modified tractor-beam field. I'm wearing a device that counteracts the field, but as for you, you're in a bubble in which gravity does not function. It doesn't affect light or sound going out, but your body is already adjusting to the lack of gravity."
Leia realized that she was in the presence of a lecturer and hoped that Lando could figure something out if she stalled. "What does that mean?"
"Your nerve endings are now reaching out for anything that feels like solid ground. Since there is no gravity, that means that every nerve in your skin is quickly becoming triply sensitive to touch, which makes what I do triple the fun."
Leia was quickly getting anxious, but she tried to keep the speeches coming. "What about the injection?"
"That's a neuro-booster, specifically targeted to the same nerve endings in the skin. Between the low gravity and the neuro-booster, everything that touches your skin in the next hour is going to be amplified by ten times or more. Tell me, my lovely girl, were you the smuggler's lover?"
Leia sneered at him, vowing to herself that she would not throw pearls to this swine.
"I'll take that as affirmation. Now tell me this: did Solo ever tickle you while you were together?"
Leia could not help herself: her eyes shot open in disbelief. Even as she tried to recover, she could not control the quiver in her voice. "I'm not going to be the entertainment here, you scum. I'm not saying anything."
"Ah, but you are the entertainment, and I'm here to make you more entertaining." He stepped towards her, and she flinched visibly. "The Great Hutt has paid me handsomely to make you as entertaining as possible." With that he reached up to her elbow, which was almost at the end of his arm's length, and dragged fingers from there to her armpit. Leia screamed as sensations that she had never imagined shot through her whole upper body.
"What's happening to me?"
"Jabba loves his dancers, to be sure, but when he has a girl of your species in his care, the entertainment for the night is hypertickling!"
"Hypertickling?"
"Yes, it's something that really only your species can enjoy. Shall I show you what your service to the Great Hutt will be, so long as he enjoys you?"
"No..."
"You'll learn not to tell the Great Hutt no, I promise." Both hands now reached up to her underarms, and his fingertips, amplified to frightening intensity by the tractor beam and the drugs, began to scratch rapidly down her armpits. Leia's hips started writhing, suspended above the floor, and the silence as she inhaled sharply soon gave way to a shriek, then laughter. She did not want to laugh, but her body was laughing before she could say why she didn't want to laugh. The metal top that covered her breasts bounced as she twisted this way and that, trying in vain to escape the fingers that followed her underarms. Her eyes shut instinctively as her arms pulled against the silk ropes, and in the instant before her throat finally gave way, she opened her eyes and knew the depths of this humiliation.
Jabba the Hutt, licking his lips.
A howl of laughter escaped from Leia's gut as shame proved no match for her own skin. The man's fingers stroked and scratched at the skin that her extended arms showed to Jabba's whole court, and nothing that any man had ever done for her--not even Han--had ever thrown her body into the state she now experienced. Without gravity, her muscles were not tiring, and that was even worse: as the man tickled her and tickled her, the fatigue of laughing that might give her poor skin some relief, or at least her nervous system some distraction, was nowhere to be seen. Only those fingers and her own voice and the hungry looks of the figures in the dark palace were anywhere at all.
Leia suddenly felt a push, padded but firm, on the small of her back, and she knew that now she was arched out, her hips and abdomen thrust forward towards the throne. The man had stopped tickling her armpits, and she was catching her breath, but she could only imagine that her heaving ribs were providing yet another bit of eye candy for the desert gang. The torturer's headband sprang to motion, a tinted transparent visor descending over his eyes. "How are you enjoying Hypertickling so far?"
"I'm going to make sure you pay for this personally. When my friends come to rescue me - ee - eee- eee!" Leia's eyes grew as she realized that a prehensile tentacle had sprung from the side of the headband, an unseen device now whirring in her navel. His hands free, the man reached up and, as the thought-controlled tentacle continued to drill at the sides of her navel with its spinning feathers, he began to squeeze and pinch at her sides, just below the ribs. Leia squealed as her tractor-beam-altered skin received every touch of the insane feather on the skin that was sensitive under any conditions, and her helpless, stretched body could do nothing but laugh as his skillful hands coaxed her midsection into a frenzy. She could see Lando shifting uncomfortably among the guards, but she knew that he was in no danger here: this was not any kind of interrogation but torture for pleasure, and as far as the Hutt was concerned, no threats remained in the room. She tried desperately to think of Han, his face, his voice, his hands, but the core of her body was a sadist's toy and the pleasure-show of a room full of thugs, and her memory could not pull her attention away from the fingers, the feathers, the terrible tickling that this strange man was putting on her. When he finally stopped with his hands, the tentacle remained in her navel for a few seconds before retracting. Leia panted, her laughter having taken her to the edge of hyperventilation, even in the tractor-beam.
"So tell me, lovely, are you naturally ticklish as well?"
"Please... just stop..."
"Oh, good! You're asking nicely! That's a step in the right direction. These boys love it when I get the feisty ones asking nicely."
Leia thought to glare, but then thought better of it. "Please, can you just let me down?"
"Are you naturally ticklish?"
"I can't..."
"Can't remember? Perhaps we'll just work on that memory, then!" With that the arm holding her back in an arch retracted back into the droid, and Leia was once again straight up and down in the tractor beam.
"No! Please! Yes, I'm naturally ticklish!"
With slight tugs on the cords, Leia's body tilted slightly backwards. "I thought you might be. But our show's not over yet, dear. I haven't even gotten down below that belly button!" Leia's breathing once again accelerated as she felt the ankle-cords pull outwards, and she knew that she could not hold her knees together.
"No! You can't rape me!"
"Rape? No. But have you ever wondered just how ticklish you could get in those places where you're already super-ticklish? Hmm?" He stepped forward between her ankles. "Nobody's going to rape you, love, but our laughs are just starting." His hands reached up to her hips, and his thumbs and two fingers on each hand started to knead them rapidly. Leia's head thrashed backwards as he exploited her inability to cover up. His tickling touches were aggressive but gentle, never giving her skin a chance to become insensitive, and the serum, plus the tractor beam, meant that within seconds she was screaming in laughter again. Tears floated away from her eyes as perspiration started to form a cloud about her body. Without gravity, neither source of moisture collected in the places where it should, and her skin remained dry and ticklish as ever. She roared with each renewed squeeze, and as her mind reeled, she thought that she could actually see Lando's palace-guard pants begin to swell. Her lips, those beautiful lips that Han so loved, opened wide in an agonized and ecstatic expression of ticklish bliss. She hated every nanosecond of this awful torture, but her body would only give the room the overjoyed laughter of the unbelievably ticklish. The cheers in the room were mere background noise to the soaring laughter that was coming out of Leia, not by her will but no longer even against her will, but just an overflowing of the only thing that filled her universe: those tickling hands, her ticklish hips, and her body's growing urge to have Han--or any man--against her skin. The tickling stopped.
"Why, my lovely, I think you might need a change of clothes after this!" Leia could hear the whole room roar, and in the moment of self-awareness that the tickling had denied her for those eternal minutes, she realized that, in the tractor beam, droplets of liquid were emerging not only from her eyes and sweat glands but from underneath the loincloth that Jabba's men had given her. The man passed his hand through it, brought it to his nose (in his own gravity field, and smiled. "No, gentlemen, this lady has not urinated!" Leia could feel her shame multiplied as the crowd hooted its approval. Then shame turned to terror as she saw what was coming next: the man was pulling gloves onto his hands, ten fingertips extended by small, stiff feathers. Then, to add to the terrible picture, the tentacle emerged from the side of his headband again.
"No... not that..."
"Not inside you, no. I'm not going to go there. But where your thighs end and the most holy place begins? Oh yes!" The tentacle darted forward, underneath the loincloth, and there was no delay between its contact and Leia's scream. He did keep one promise: the tentacle never got inside her, or even touched her other than on her deep inner thighs, but in her state, that was enough: her back arched, a deep moan overtook her ticklish giggles, and she inhaled deeply as the mechanized torture device tickled nerves so close to where she most wanted Han that the sensations were now beyond what she had even imagined before. As the tentacle did its work, the man's hands began their work, scratching away at her inner thighs (the parts not covered by the loincloth) with those feathers' tips, shuttling her consciousness (if what she was experiencing was even consciousness any more) between the pleasurable agony of the tentacle's tickling and the unbearable army of tickling touches that the feathers dealt. She felt something inside her explode, and the crowd once again followed her shame with its own pornographic celebration. And to her horror, although the tentacle retracted after she climaxed, the feathers on his gloves were suddenly amplified again, robbing even her ticklish thrashing of any order, sending her body into a writhing chaos that she almost experienced alongside the cheering spectators. Her skin, still sensitive from the tractor beam's effects, was one gigantic ticklish radiator, from top to bottom, and she knew that anywhere this man touched her would bring her to laughing humiliation at this point. And he did. But after a long spell, once again he stopped.
Leia looked up, her eyes having been shut for the last several minutes of torture, and saw that the man had a length of silk cord between his hands. She cocked her head to the side, a welcome moment of curiosity to a mind that had only known the borders of her own skin and the pull of her own body for so long. He released the cord into the air, and it floated towards Leia's abdomen. Two droids quickly snapped it up, pulling her belly backwards as her arms once again pulled straight up but her ankles straight forward. Regaining some of her sight, she suddenly realized that the soles of her feet now faced Jabba the Hutt directly.
She looked in desperation at her torturer. "Please. I'll do anything. I'll give you money! I'll pleasure you! Just don't do this!"
He stepped forward, looking her directly in the eyes. "Believe me, nothing will give me more pleasure than what's about to happen." With that, he produced a small cylinder, eleven centimeters in length and two in diameter, from underneath his cloak, and as Leia watched the end of it split into four prongs and began to spin.
"No! Please!"
The spinning tips approached, two centimeters from her sole, then one, then made contact.
* * * * * * *
When the foot-tickling had reached its torturous conclusion, the droids moved into position to lower Leia, barely conscious, down from the tractor beam's pull. Her body offered no resistance or even will to stand as Jabba's goons alternately hooted, looked for a corner in which to finish enjoying the scene, and stared at her worn-out body. Another droid came forward with a pair of boots, and as he gently slid them onto Leia's ankles, he was talking to the beautiful, broken princess:
"These boots are the Hypertickler's best friends, my love. As you wear them, they'll slowly work on those long nerves on the bottoms of your feet and on the ones between your toes to make today's tickling only the second-worst you've ever gotten. And the comparison won't be close."
Leia gazed longingly at the entrance to Jabba's chamber, beseeching what gods in the galaxy that would hear her that Luke would come soon.
Feedback, as usual, is welcome!
Before the Rescue: A Star Wars FanFic (m/f)
by
Kid Indy
"Who are you?"
"Someone who loves you."
"Leia!"
With that, the trap's spring tripped, and the deep chuckle was unmistakable.
"What's that? I know that laugh."
Leia turned to see a curtain open, and behind it was Jabba, armed guards, laughing sycophants. She knew that there was nowhere to run in the deep bowels of the fortress. Han began to bargain, but Leia had picked up enough Huttese to know that the enormous gangster planned to feed her newly-freed lover to the Bantha.
"I'll pay you triple! You're throwing away a fortune here. Don't be a fool!" Leia watched as they pulled him away from Jabba's throne and towards his private prison. Leia felt a hand on her arm and glanced up long enough to realize that it was Lando; perhaps a quick escape was in the cards. But just as they were about to turn, once again she heard a Huttese phrase that she could piece together.
"Bring her to me!"
Now Lando's hand, and another guard's, pulled her towards the Hutt. She attempted bravado: "We have powerful friends! You're going to regret this!"
"I'm sure..." The laughter in the room surrounded her as the Hutt licked his gigantic, fleshy lips. Leia turned away from the hideous mass that was now inches from her own face. Jabba began to speak in phrases that Leia could not understand, but C-3PO translated for her when she did not immediately respond.
"His Majesty wants to see the gift that Solo's Wookiee has given him. He demands that you remove all of your clothes and stand before him."
The guards released her arms, and she stood defiant. "I'm not going to give you any such gift, Jabba!"
Again Threepio had to translate his next speech: "The mighty Jabba says that he will either see his new slave naked, or she will watch Han Solo cut into steaks... with a dull knife. The Princess will decide which."
Leia gritted her teeth. She knew that Luke was only two days behind her, that if she could delay the Hutt's plans for them, that he could rescue them. But to strip down in front of this company was an indignity the likes of which she could hardly stomach. But without a choice, she began to remove the Bounty Hunter armor that had served as her disguise.
The hooting and leering room made each piece's removal a humiliation, and when finally she stood naked in front of Jabba, there was nothing short of an ovation of applause. From somewhere behind her a pile of metal and leather fell at her feet, and she did not need any droid's translation to know that the skimpy dancing-girl's outfit was all that she had to cover herself up. So she did. The hoots and jeers continued as she put on the bikini. She noticed, though, that nothing was forthcoming to cover her feet.
"What, Jabba, are you so cheap that you won't give me any shoes to wear? I can't do much dancing on this floor without some shoes."
Jabba's response once again came to her through the golden interpreter. "His Majesty says that if you were a Twi'lek, he would have you dancing through the night, but human girls just can't do what a Twi'lek can. But there are other entertainments that you can learn to provide."
Leia's face wrinkled into a question, but before she could put words to her confusion, a metallic hum echoed in the chamber, and Leia's feet lifted from the ground. She tried to turn to look, but the movement of her neck sent her whole body into a spin, a full meter off the ground. Whatever had happened, she now had no sense of where up and down were--her body was drifting and spinning, changing directions every time her neck, shoulder, or hip moved. Although her relationship to the floor of the filthy palace was severed, she could still hear as the the rabble in the throne room laughed and hooted at her predicament. She determined to hold still, not to let these criminals enjoy her zero-gravity humiliation too much.
Then the next trap sprang.
She heard the whistle of the thin ropes first, then realized that they had looped themselves around her bare ankles, then around one wrist, then the other. They began to pull her limbs out from her torso, and although she pulled to resist, her lack of purchase on the ground meant that she could not resist as her arms and legs were pulled into an X. Leia regained a sense of up-and-down and realized that she was suspended in the air, head towards the ceiling, and that her feet were a full meter from the ground. Looking to the ends of her ropes, she realized that service droids, two R2 units and two larger droids with short cranes, had lassoed her wrists and ankles and were pulling her limbs outward, the tall ones up towards the ceiling and the short ones down towards the floor. There she hung, on nothing but silk cords, for everyone to see.
A humanoid figure in a bright orange outfit began to approach her. She could see that his left hand held some kind of micro-injection device, the sort that physicians used to inject medicine without using a needle. She began to squirm as she saw it coming, but her droid captors could not be moved by someone not touching the ground.
"Don't bother trying to break free, my beauty. The droids are far too heavy for you to move. Just try to relax, and enjoy the first hour of the rest of your life."
Leia was confused, but at least, she thought, this one didn't need an interpreter. His accent dropped the "r" sounds, the sign of someone trying to sound aristocratic, but he still spoke her language. "Whatever you do to me, you'll pay for it soon. Don't be a fool!"
Again it was the room's turn to laugh. The man lifted the hood from his head to reveal a handsome face, perhaps a man in his thirties. He wore a thick metallic headband, the sort that bounty hunters sometimes wore, some sort of mechanism concealed beneath glowing lights. "Now hold still. You should save your energy at this point." Leia, still held up in the air like a floating trophy, pulled on the cords to no avail as the man applied the hydraulic injector to the inside of her thigh and depressed the plunger. Starting with the inside of that leg and then spreading to the rest of her body, she could feel a strange warmth just under her skin.
"What did you do to me?"
"Do you mean the tractor beam or the injection? Ah, I should tell you about both. You're floating, at the moment, in a modified tractor-beam field. I'm wearing a device that counteracts the field, but as for you, you're in a bubble in which gravity does not function. It doesn't affect light or sound going out, but your body is already adjusting to the lack of gravity."
Leia realized that she was in the presence of a lecturer and hoped that Lando could figure something out if she stalled. "What does that mean?"
"Your nerve endings are now reaching out for anything that feels like solid ground. Since there is no gravity, that means that every nerve in your skin is quickly becoming triply sensitive to touch, which makes what I do triple the fun."
Leia was quickly getting anxious, but she tried to keep the speeches coming. "What about the injection?"
"That's a neuro-booster, specifically targeted to the same nerve endings in the skin. Between the low gravity and the neuro-booster, everything that touches your skin in the next hour is going to be amplified by ten times or more. Tell me, my lovely girl, were you the smuggler's lover?"
Leia sneered at him, vowing to herself that she would not throw pearls to this swine.
"I'll take that as affirmation. Now tell me this: did Solo ever tickle you while you were together?"
Leia could not help herself: her eyes shot open in disbelief. Even as she tried to recover, she could not control the quiver in her voice. "I'm not going to be the entertainment here, you scum. I'm not saying anything."
"Ah, but you are the entertainment, and I'm here to make you more entertaining." He stepped towards her, and she flinched visibly. "The Great Hutt has paid me handsomely to make you as entertaining as possible." With that he reached up to her elbow, which was almost at the end of his arm's length, and dragged fingers from there to her armpit. Leia screamed as sensations that she had never imagined shot through her whole upper body.
"What's happening to me?"
"Jabba loves his dancers, to be sure, but when he has a girl of your species in his care, the entertainment for the night is hypertickling!"
"Hypertickling?"
"Yes, it's something that really only your species can enjoy. Shall I show you what your service to the Great Hutt will be, so long as he enjoys you?"
"No..."
"You'll learn not to tell the Great Hutt no, I promise." Both hands now reached up to her underarms, and his fingertips, amplified to frightening intensity by the tractor beam and the drugs, began to scratch rapidly down her armpits. Leia's hips started writhing, suspended above the floor, and the silence as she inhaled sharply soon gave way to a shriek, then laughter. She did not want to laugh, but her body was laughing before she could say why she didn't want to laugh. The metal top that covered her breasts bounced as she twisted this way and that, trying in vain to escape the fingers that followed her underarms. Her eyes shut instinctively as her arms pulled against the silk ropes, and in the instant before her throat finally gave way, she opened her eyes and knew the depths of this humiliation.
Jabba the Hutt, licking his lips.
A howl of laughter escaped from Leia's gut as shame proved no match for her own skin. The man's fingers stroked and scratched at the skin that her extended arms showed to Jabba's whole court, and nothing that any man had ever done for her--not even Han--had ever thrown her body into the state she now experienced. Without gravity, her muscles were not tiring, and that was even worse: as the man tickled her and tickled her, the fatigue of laughing that might give her poor skin some relief, or at least her nervous system some distraction, was nowhere to be seen. Only those fingers and her own voice and the hungry looks of the figures in the dark palace were anywhere at all.
Leia suddenly felt a push, padded but firm, on the small of her back, and she knew that now she was arched out, her hips and abdomen thrust forward towards the throne. The man had stopped tickling her armpits, and she was catching her breath, but she could only imagine that her heaving ribs were providing yet another bit of eye candy for the desert gang. The torturer's headband sprang to motion, a tinted transparent visor descending over his eyes. "How are you enjoying Hypertickling so far?"
"I'm going to make sure you pay for this personally. When my friends come to rescue me - ee - eee- eee!" Leia's eyes grew as she realized that a prehensile tentacle had sprung from the side of the headband, an unseen device now whirring in her navel. His hands free, the man reached up and, as the thought-controlled tentacle continued to drill at the sides of her navel with its spinning feathers, he began to squeeze and pinch at her sides, just below the ribs. Leia squealed as her tractor-beam-altered skin received every touch of the insane feather on the skin that was sensitive under any conditions, and her helpless, stretched body could do nothing but laugh as his skillful hands coaxed her midsection into a frenzy. She could see Lando shifting uncomfortably among the guards, but she knew that he was in no danger here: this was not any kind of interrogation but torture for pleasure, and as far as the Hutt was concerned, no threats remained in the room. She tried desperately to think of Han, his face, his voice, his hands, but the core of her body was a sadist's toy and the pleasure-show of a room full of thugs, and her memory could not pull her attention away from the fingers, the feathers, the terrible tickling that this strange man was putting on her. When he finally stopped with his hands, the tentacle remained in her navel for a few seconds before retracting. Leia panted, her laughter having taken her to the edge of hyperventilation, even in the tractor-beam.
"So tell me, lovely, are you naturally ticklish as well?"
"Please... just stop..."
"Oh, good! You're asking nicely! That's a step in the right direction. These boys love it when I get the feisty ones asking nicely."
Leia thought to glare, but then thought better of it. "Please, can you just let me down?"
"Are you naturally ticklish?"
"I can't..."
"Can't remember? Perhaps we'll just work on that memory, then!" With that the arm holding her back in an arch retracted back into the droid, and Leia was once again straight up and down in the tractor beam.
"No! Please! Yes, I'm naturally ticklish!"
With slight tugs on the cords, Leia's body tilted slightly backwards. "I thought you might be. But our show's not over yet, dear. I haven't even gotten down below that belly button!" Leia's breathing once again accelerated as she felt the ankle-cords pull outwards, and she knew that she could not hold her knees together.
"No! You can't rape me!"
"Rape? No. But have you ever wondered just how ticklish you could get in those places where you're already super-ticklish? Hmm?" He stepped forward between her ankles. "Nobody's going to rape you, love, but our laughs are just starting." His hands reached up to her hips, and his thumbs and two fingers on each hand started to knead them rapidly. Leia's head thrashed backwards as he exploited her inability to cover up. His tickling touches were aggressive but gentle, never giving her skin a chance to become insensitive, and the serum, plus the tractor beam, meant that within seconds she was screaming in laughter again. Tears floated away from her eyes as perspiration started to form a cloud about her body. Without gravity, neither source of moisture collected in the places where it should, and her skin remained dry and ticklish as ever. She roared with each renewed squeeze, and as her mind reeled, she thought that she could actually see Lando's palace-guard pants begin to swell. Her lips, those beautiful lips that Han so loved, opened wide in an agonized and ecstatic expression of ticklish bliss. She hated every nanosecond of this awful torture, but her body would only give the room the overjoyed laughter of the unbelievably ticklish. The cheers in the room were mere background noise to the soaring laughter that was coming out of Leia, not by her will but no longer even against her will, but just an overflowing of the only thing that filled her universe: those tickling hands, her ticklish hips, and her body's growing urge to have Han--or any man--against her skin. The tickling stopped.
"Why, my lovely, I think you might need a change of clothes after this!" Leia could hear the whole room roar, and in the moment of self-awareness that the tickling had denied her for those eternal minutes, she realized that, in the tractor beam, droplets of liquid were emerging not only from her eyes and sweat glands but from underneath the loincloth that Jabba's men had given her. The man passed his hand through it, brought it to his nose (in his own gravity field, and smiled. "No, gentlemen, this lady has not urinated!" Leia could feel her shame multiplied as the crowd hooted its approval. Then shame turned to terror as she saw what was coming next: the man was pulling gloves onto his hands, ten fingertips extended by small, stiff feathers. Then, to add to the terrible picture, the tentacle emerged from the side of his headband again.
"No... not that..."
"Not inside you, no. I'm not going to go there. But where your thighs end and the most holy place begins? Oh yes!" The tentacle darted forward, underneath the loincloth, and there was no delay between its contact and Leia's scream. He did keep one promise: the tentacle never got inside her, or even touched her other than on her deep inner thighs, but in her state, that was enough: her back arched, a deep moan overtook her ticklish giggles, and she inhaled deeply as the mechanized torture device tickled nerves so close to where she most wanted Han that the sensations were now beyond what she had even imagined before. As the tentacle did its work, the man's hands began their work, scratching away at her inner thighs (the parts not covered by the loincloth) with those feathers' tips, shuttling her consciousness (if what she was experiencing was even consciousness any more) between the pleasurable agony of the tentacle's tickling and the unbearable army of tickling touches that the feathers dealt. She felt something inside her explode, and the crowd once again followed her shame with its own pornographic celebration. And to her horror, although the tentacle retracted after she climaxed, the feathers on his gloves were suddenly amplified again, robbing even her ticklish thrashing of any order, sending her body into a writhing chaos that she almost experienced alongside the cheering spectators. Her skin, still sensitive from the tractor beam's effects, was one gigantic ticklish radiator, from top to bottom, and she knew that anywhere this man touched her would bring her to laughing humiliation at this point. And he did. But after a long spell, once again he stopped.
Leia looked up, her eyes having been shut for the last several minutes of torture, and saw that the man had a length of silk cord between his hands. She cocked her head to the side, a welcome moment of curiosity to a mind that had only known the borders of her own skin and the pull of her own body for so long. He released the cord into the air, and it floated towards Leia's abdomen. Two droids quickly snapped it up, pulling her belly backwards as her arms once again pulled straight up but her ankles straight forward. Regaining some of her sight, she suddenly realized that the soles of her feet now faced Jabba the Hutt directly.
She looked in desperation at her torturer. "Please. I'll do anything. I'll give you money! I'll pleasure you! Just don't do this!"
He stepped forward, looking her directly in the eyes. "Believe me, nothing will give me more pleasure than what's about to happen." With that, he produced a small cylinder, eleven centimeters in length and two in diameter, from underneath his cloak, and as Leia watched the end of it split into four prongs and began to spin.
"No! Please!"
The spinning tips approached, two centimeters from her sole, then one, then made contact.
* * * * * * *
When the foot-tickling had reached its torturous conclusion, the droids moved into position to lower Leia, barely conscious, down from the tractor beam's pull. Her body offered no resistance or even will to stand as Jabba's goons alternately hooted, looked for a corner in which to finish enjoying the scene, and stared at her worn-out body. Another droid came forward with a pair of boots, and as he gently slid them onto Leia's ankles, he was talking to the beautiful, broken princess:
"These boots are the Hypertickler's best friends, my love. As you wear them, they'll slowly work on those long nerves on the bottoms of your feet and on the ones between your toes to make today's tickling only the second-worst you've ever gotten. And the comparison won't be close."
Leia gazed longingly at the entrance to Jabba's chamber, beseeching what gods in the galaxy that would hear her that Luke would come soon.
