View Full Version : Star Wars TK: Ahsoka XI - Slaver Shenanigans (F/F, mainly feet )

03-31-2015, 09:11 PM
Star Wars TK: Ahsoka IX

(This takes place at an indeterminate time during the Clone Wars.)

Star Wars TK: Slaver Shenanigans

“Did I mention I have a bad feeling about this?” Ahsoka Tano asked, as she walked down the dusty trails, fetters clinging to her ankles and wrists.

“You sound like Anakin. He always says that whenever there’s some business he wants to get out of. I heard him say that once before entering a lavatory,” blue-skinned Aayla Secura chuckled as she held Ahsoka’s chains with a gloved hand like a leash.

“Well, maybe that was a different kind of bad feeling…” Ahsoka giggled, grateful that the older Jedi was trying to lighten the mood. The Jedi had another tricky mission on their hands – they were going undercover to dismantle a Slave Ring on the Outer Rim, with Ahsoka posing as the slave to be sold and Aayla the slaver. They had both donned appropriate outfits for their little deception, with Ahsoka dressed in a skimpy outfit and Aayla garbed in roguish vestments complete with an eye-patch for the shady smuggler look. Aayla’s pseudonym for this operation was “Aurora”, and although Ahsoka had initially argued that their roles be reversed (Twileks tended to be slaves instead of slavers, after all) she had to admit the older Jedi looked quite the part in her rusted armour with a blaster at her hip.

Ahsoka stepped gingerly into the junkyard where the slaver ring would be gathering, as pebbles and glass crunched underneath her thin sandals. Ahsoka looked upon the gathered rabble of slavers with trepidation. She spied a few Toydarians, whose natural Jedi-mind trick resistance might make things difficult if they got messy. There were a few big muscular Gamorreans about too, and she saw many of them wearing those Neural Bands which were always a smuggler’s favourite – they were nicknamed ‘Shocky’ as the bands sent mild electric shocks to improve concentration and mental fortitude. The neural band reinforced various synapses throughout the brain and provided alternate conduits for electrical impulses within the mind, making the wearer's thoughts difficult to affect. Ahsoka and Aayla’s lightsabers had been stashed away in Aayla’s belt pouch, but the fact that The Force might not be able to get them out of any trouble was worrying.

And to make matters worse, just like Ahsoka had feared, the slavers were immediately suspicious of Aayla’s race – her gender probably didn’t help in the sea of testosterone either.

“Who are you? This is no place for dancer girls,” A beady-eyed Rodian burbled in Rodese.

“Do I look like a dancer?” Aayla hissed, as she placed her hand on her blaster. “My name is Aurora. I’m here to sell a slave, not take jokes.”

The Rodian wilted under Aayla’s steely glare, but many of the others looked quite bemused by Aayla’s aggressive display. “Twileks make better slaves than slavers,” a green-skinned Gamorrean grunted.

“Maybe we’ll give you a good deal if you dance for us!” A helmeted slaver called out, and many of the assembled scumbags guffawed with laughter.

“Hey, you shut up!” Aayla shouted, but Ahsoka could tell the crowd was not impressed by her blustering. They were in serious danger of being laughed out of here if Aayla didn’t do something quick; they clearly were not buying the eyepatch and the whole costume.

“Girl is no slaver. Girl is soft. All talk,” the first Rodian snorted, and for a moment Ahsoka thought they might be laughed out of here or worse.

“Now now, my friends… let us not be so rude to new patrons,” a cool voice rang out from the crowd, as sharp as a knife. A leggy fox-like humanoid strode through the crowd, a roll of spice in her mouth and flanked by two muscular bodyguards. Ahsoka recognized her as one of the Vix, a rare race of humanoids with bushy tails.

“There’s no reason a woman can’t be a slaver, right?” the woman said, her tone making it clear that her henchman would deal with any who disagreed with the statement. The crowd fell silent, though Ahsoka could still hear grumbles and murmurs from the Rodian.

“Forgive my colleagues, but we do not see new races here very often… you will allow us to… verify you, correct?”

“Of course,” Aayla said, though Ahsoka noticed beads of sweat on her brow.

“Show us you aren’t just some nerf-herder… torture your slave. Prove that you’re really one of us.”

Ahsoka saw Aayla’s grimace twist into a grin like she had some kind of epiphany. “Of course. I know just the way to do it too,” she said, wiggling her fingers.

“Oh gosh…”


“Go easy…” Ahsoka whispered as Aayla shackled her to a crude pillory. It wasn’t quite the type of stockade the tickle enthusiasts they had encountered on their travels used, but it would suffice for their purposes. The weakness of the bondage was actually to Ahsoka’s strength, as the slackness of the bonds meant she could shift her feet around to dodge the brunt of the tickling – it was a luxury you didn’t have when you were strapped down in a dozen places with all your individual toes tied back.

There was a murmur of confusion as Aayla bound her ‘slave’ and stripped Ahsoka of her sandals, revealing her soles to the audience. The audience was clearly expecting bastinado or some other kind of gruesome physical trauma, which is why they were dumbfounded when the blue-skinned Twilek ‘master’ was brandishing a feather duster instead of a whip.

“Does dancer girl want to clean her slave before sale?” one of the Rodians who had mocked Aayla quipped, clearly having no idea what sensations a feather duster could invoke in the right hands.

“It is a rather… unconventional method,” the Vix female slaver commented.

“Unconventional but effective. Whips damage the merchandise,” Aayla said, pleased with herself for getting the slaver terminology correct. She adopted the appropriate slaver sneer as she whisked the feather dusted up and down the flailing, kicking soles, as Ahsoka giggled her boyish laugh.

Aayla kept the light motion on the soles, but within moments she could see that this wasn’t quite working as she had hoped. Many of the slaves gaped in confusion initially, but they quickly dismissed her and turned around, several of them shaking their heads. Ahsoka was giggling, but she was clearly not a holonet award-winning actress – you needed to do more than snicker lightly when you were supposed to be undergoing extreme tickle-torture! The Jedi Knight had banked on the fact that Ahsoka’s ticklishness on her appendages would be enough to sell her credentials as a heartless slaver, but Ahsoka didn’t seem to realize that now would be an excellent time to beg and cry and scream even if the tickling itself was comparatively mild.

Aayla knew it was now or never as even the Vix was beginning to glance away, so she aggressively hooked Ahsoka’s toes with the hand that wasn’t holding the feather duster and pulled them apart and back and dusted along the ball of the foot and the toes. If Ahsoka was a method actor, then this should do the trick…

“Ohohohohho, nahahahaht thehehehehere!” Ahsoka squealed, letting loose a high-pitched shriek that caught the attention of every slaver gathered. With her squirming foot in Aayla’s firm grip, Ahsoka’s sensitive, high-arched foot had to take the dusting head-on, as Aayla dusted every spot on those bubble-like toes with flicks and swipes from the innumerable feathers on the feather duster.

“I wouldn’t laugh about things you don’t understand,” Aayla said, glancing back at her enraptured audience. “Most humanoids are ticklish here, especially if you give them stockings and things to wear. It’s just about approaching the situation smartly,” she lectured as she continued dusting her ticklish tool all over the Togruta's soles.

“NO, ANYTHING B-B-B-UT THAT! STOP-P-PP-P-P THAT REALLY TICKLES-S-S-S,” Ahsoka howled, wiggling the toes of her free foot. Aayla smiled as it was clear Ahsoka had finally realized she had to put on a good show for these slavers to establish their slaver credentials, as she yowled and twisted in her bonds in a convincing fashion... or did it really tickle that much? Aayla sure hoped she would not have to find out any time soon, her toes curling in her boots at the thought of all those bristly feathers sliding up and down her arches and around her toes… it was a scary thought.

The Vix shot Aayla a Cheshire cat grin. “I have to admit, that certainly sounds effective… Maybe I should give your methods a try.”

“If you think that’s bad, you should try your bare hands!” Aayla offered, emboldened by her success. It was clear this Vix was the one to impress here, and it seemed like she was curious about the tickling technique Aayla had exhibited; Ahsoka would understand…

Aayla hooked Ahsoka’s big toes and pulled them back, extending the tendon and heightening her arches till the sole was tantalizingly taut. The Vix extended a clawed finger and lightly dragged it down the heightened arch, licking her lips as she saw the way Ahsoka quivered as the nail lazily grazed along the sole.

“Yes… I can see the merit in this method…” she murmured, as she used her index fingers to lightly trace along the immobile soles.

“Try using more fingers, and really dig in those arches – you see there? Right where those wrinkles are?” Aayla pointed out helpfully, though Ahsoka shot her a death-glare which probably was for the best. It would definitely have been in-character anyway!

The Vix nodded and grinned to herself, showing off a mouth of sharp little teeth as her claws scratched at Ahsoka’s sensitive wrinkles along the balls of the foot and the arches, which were still being held still by Aayla’s iron grip.

“Hey, does tickle tickle work on Twileks too?” A broad-chested Gammorean grunted from behind. Aayla couldn’t actually see him, but she deduced from his noxious stench that it had to be one of those pig-like Gammoreans.

It sounded like a dig at Aayla, being a Twilek herself, but it was too risky to antagonize a ‘fellow slaver’ in case he was not being disingenuous. “Of course,” she said, without turning around. “Try digging in the toes there,” she added, to the Vix.

“You know, I think I’ve seen you before…” The Gammorean oinked, as Aayla forced herself to control her breathing and turn around slowly.

“I’m sure all my people look the same to you. All Gammoreans look the same to me, in any case,” Aayla said, forcing her voice to be calm.

“No, I’m sure I’ve seen you before… didn’t you dance at Hobba the Hutt’s bar last week?” the Gammorean said, and the crowd burst into mocking laughter.

“I’ve had enough of you!” Aayla snarled, her anger only half-feigned as she drew her blaster and pointed it between the Gammorean’s tiny piggy eyes. In a flash, blasters were being drawn left and right, with the majority aimed at Aayla.

“Calm down... Put the blasters down, we’re here to do business…” The Vix said, reassuringly, and Aayla could see blasters lowering. “But now that my associate mentions it… you do look familiar… Jedi.”

Aayla could only snap her head back to stare at the Vix in shock before a hard impact to the back of her head knocked her to the floor.

“You’ll pay for coming here… Aayla Secura…”


Aayla Secura had just had the worst dream… she had dreamt that she had been captured by a group of savage slavers, but thankfully, she knew she was still at the Jedi Temple, and would set off for her undercover operation in a few hours. She yawned and moved to rub her eyes, only to find that her arms were bound. Her eyes fluttered open, and she grimaced. So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Aayla’s head felt so fuzzy… it felt like she was still dreaming. There was a burning incense in the room that was made her head feel like it was filled with flowers that intoxicated her with their sweet scents.

“Wakey, wakey,” a cool voice said, as Aayla began struggling in her bonds. She was in some kind of tent, and tied down to a chair with some cords, which had been tied with the attention to detail of a professional slaver or consummate kidnapper.

“Who… who are you?” Aayla said, squinting at the figure. The feminine features looked familiar, but the smoke of the room was making her eyes water and her head swim.

“Forgotten already? The spice must be doing its work. We deal with spice as well as slaves, of course,” the fox-like woman smiled. “My crew call me Vixen. I imagine they think they’re being clever.”

“Vixen?” Aayla snorted, giggling uncharacteristically at the lameness of the pun. It was such an unoriginal name for a Vix to be called Vixen! Aayla chuckled despite herself, and her perilous situation.

“I know, pretty funny, right? I think the Giggledust pumping through your veins is helping,” Vixen said, gesturing to a needle on the table. Aayla recognized the name. It was an illegal substance, which invoked giggly euphoria, as implied by its name. It made everything seem humorous to the consumer, as they experienced a euphoric and highly alert state, but what Aayla hadn’t known, was the sense of mirthful ecstasy was preventing her from focusing her force powers. Aayla could dimly sense Ahsoka somewhere nearby, and she could sense Vixen’s playfulness intermingled with a bit of fear, but conjuring the power to bust free from her bonds was a bit beyond her at present.

“There were more powerful options on the table,” Vixen said, as she traced a slender finger along the light blue skin of Aayla’s cheek. “But it seemed the more fitting choice considering what you had just shown me. The diabolical art of tickle torture,” she said, bearing a grin that looked more than a little feral. Aayla had never noticed how sharp her teeth were.

“So I offer you a deal… I know the Jedi are a force to be reckoned with. My humble crew would not survive a sustained conflict with your precious Republic. You turn a blind eye to our… activities, and I’ll offer you some of my associates,” Vixen said sweetly, with another wide grin that sent shivers down Aayla’s spine.

“Associates? You mean your competition?” Aayla said slowly, not wanting to aid the rise of the next drug lord.

Vixen’s face darkened. “You sound as if you are declining my offer. Tell me I am mistaken.”

Aayla laughed. “Why would I help you?”

The frown turned into a cruel smile once more. “Why? Let me give you two, big…” Vixen paused, and pulled off Aayla’s boots. Aayla wore dark stockings under her boots, and they felt a bit damp from the perspiration. “Ticklish reasons,” she finished, as she traced a finger down each sole playfully.

Aayla immediately burst into snickers of laughter. She definitely wasn’t this ticklish before! It must have been the blasted Giggledust!

“You look conflicted. Let me give you some time to think it over. Don’t worry, I’ll entertain myself in the meantime,” Vixen smiled, her sly smile making it crystal clear exactly how she planned to spend her time – with the pair of sensitive Jedi nylon-clad soles in her villainous grasp.

Aayla bit her lip as she knew all too well what Vixen’s words meant. You didn’t have to be a Jedi to know where this was going. She took a deep breath and she realized that the Vix was revelling in the sense of domination she had over the famous Jedi warrior. She knew from her experience with smugglers and her own Jedi mental probing that many criminals lived for the sense of adrenaline-fuelled euphoria that came with a conquest. Even if Aayla agreed to this deal, the Vix would not pass up the opportunity to make the mighty Aayla Secura, famed Jedi Knight and Republic war-hero squeal and giggle under her ticklish ministrations. She would simply make up an excuse and tickle her anyway, so Aayla kept her mouth firmly shut.

“Nothing to say? Then I’ll take that as my cue to start,” Vixen smiled, flexing her fingers and grinning, just as Aayla knew she would.

The Vix’s grin was wide and diabolical, like a predator that had finally ensnared a defiant foe. Vixen rubbed her fur-covered hands lightly over Aayla’s blue soles, making the Jedi shudder and squirm in her bonds as the soft fur brushed against the sensitive skin of her soles. Vixen’s fingers lightly stroked and wiggled Aayla’s bubble like toes, almost as if she was playing some kind of childish nursery rhyme. During the toe-play, Vix’s hungry eyes never left Aayla’s face as she watched the powerful Jedi react to every little fondle and contact of her slithery, fuzzy fingers on Aayla’s slender appendages. Vixen was content to chase Aayla’s scrunching and flapping feet for a few minutes, like a seasoned hunter toying with its prey, but she soon tired of having to constantly seek out Aayla’s wiggling sole to plant her tickling strokes.

Vixen’s fur-covered fingers grabbed at a foot, and pulled the bold blue toes back. She giggled as she watched Aayla’s body squirm to each caress, each flick, and each line she drew down the taut ticklish sole. It was not in Aayla’s character to surrender so easily, so she tirelessly surged against her bondage and tried to wrench her foot free from Vixen’s grasp, but the Force seemed to be busy elsewhere, and Aayla’s limbs were soon sore and tired from the chaffing. The constantly stroking of Vixen’s furry fingers along her helpless, ticklish soles constantly sapped at her stamina.

Aayla achieved a minor moral victory when she managed to twist her feet away and firmly clamp her toes shut, in the hopes that she could deny fuzzy fingers unimpeded access to the undersides of her toes, but Vixen simply stopped for a moment, stroked her chin, and began brushing the tops of her soles. After a few moments of tinkling tickles along the insteps of her feet, Aayla’s body betrayed her as she couldn’t help but open her toes back up reflexively. Then, Vixen pounced like a prowler whose quarry had stumbled foolishly into the open, and grabbed the quivering Jedi toes, pulled them back, and tickled everywhere underneath those ticklish little digits. It was impossible to ignore the disturbing revelation that Vixen had claw-like fingernails that was devilish effective in citing ticklish sensations.

The Vix continued playing her sadistic little tickle games – another new one she enjoyed was to grab hold of one of Aayla’s feet, and then while the Jedi was bracing for an impending tickle assault on the trapped appendage, she would quickly land a swift tickle on the other, unexpecting foot. The mind games were a devious sort of psychological torment for the Jedi, as she laughed peals of uncontrollable laughter.

A tight, ticklish grin was stretched across the Jedi’s face as Vixen played those ticklish tootsies of hers like she was strumming an instrument of laughter; and play, play, play she did, as a melody of laughter wafted from reluctant Jedi lips. Aayla reached deep into her Jedi discipline to prevent herself from caving, though even she would later have to admit she was close when the Vix discovered secret ticklish spots along the centre of her soles and the sides of her feet she had never even known existed.

“Still haven’t come to a decision, young Jedi?” Vixen said, a smile playing on her lips. “You Jedi are such suckers for punishment.”

“A Jedi cannot be coerced,” Aayla glared, pursing her lips, but the effect was ruined by a casual swipe at her left foot by Vixen’s razor-sharp fingernails.

“Bold words. I see you still need to think it over,” Vixen smirked, as she put two fingers to her lips and whistled. Aayla’s stomach gave a lurch as half a dozen slavers came sauntering into the room, many of whom those that had mocked her in the courtyard.

“We want to try tickly tickly,” one of the lumbering great Gammoreans oinked.

“Try away,” Vixen smiled. “Excuse me while I visit your ‘slave’, Aayla Secura. Try to keep yourself… amused, while I’m away.”

Aayla tried remind herself that there is no emotion, there is peace, but it was difficult to focus on the Jedi platitudes when an array of fingers and ghastly other tickling implements appeared before your ticklish feet.


“Wakey, wakey, slave…”

Ahsoka’s head was still sore from where she had been knocked out, and as per usual, the Force seemed to be busy elsewhere as she found herself in bondage yet again. She really had to stop getting herself into these situations… Her tormentress this time was the furry Vix woman who seemed to be one of the leaders of the gang of smugglers. She hovered over the bound Ahsoka like a strikeforce waiting to board a trapped ship. Ahsoka’s was tied to a chair, with her arms bound firmly behind her back while her feet were tied to a footstool which also propped them up for easy tickling access. Ahsoka had done this enough to know how things would go.

Ahsoka sighed and took a deep breath. “You know I’m not a slave, I’m a Jedi.”

“Are you now? You look pretty tied up, and I believe you’ve signed a contract offering your body for services.”

“There’s no such contract!” Ahsoka shouted indignantly.

“There’s isn’t?” the Vix said, pausing for a moment as she tapped her chin with a sharp fingernail. “Oh yes!” she said, snapping her fingers. “I was just about to write it now…” she reached into her purse and pulled out a quill. “But I seem to have run out of material to write on… ahh, this will do, won’t it?”

Ahsoka should have known better, as her thin sandals were promptly thrown off, and the scratchy quill slowly traced down the arch of her right foot, making the Jedi squeal. The Vix seemed delighted by this reaction.

“Your soles seem almost as sensitive as Secura’s… ohhh, we will have fun writing this contract, slave,” she giggled to herself as she admired the soles before her. They were small and slender, as befits Ahsoka’s short stature and Jedi dexterity, and they were surprisingly soft and supple considering its owners active lifestyle.

“What contractehehehe?” Ahsoka said, her voice quavering as she felt a single nail slowly being traced down the arch of her right foot. Ahsoka's eyelids fluttered and small giggles escaped before she clamped her lips shut. She began wiggling her feet the most she could, but that one nail seemed to never be pushed away. It travelled down to her heel and circled it once before travelling back up her arch. “Gahahaha, stahahap that!”

"How can I stop when I’m having so much fun?” Vixen giggled, letting her nail lightly tease the base of Ahsoka’s orange toes. She brandished the quill in her hand again, turning it around until she held the pointed end, as though she were planning on writing a letter. "Now, let’s get down to business… writing the terms and conditions of your slavery…”

Ahsoka’s indignant cries were shushed as Vixen began gently scraping the quill up and down her left sole from her toes down to her heel. At that point Ahsoka was too busy tossing her head back and screeching to voice any further complaints as Vixen continued to inscribe the contract into her ticklish soles.

“How do you spell Ticklish Jedi?” Vixen asked, as the quill tip scribbled furiously at the base of the arch. “I should really get that part in writing, shouldn’t I?” she asked rhetorically, as Ahsoka screamed in a hysterical, garbled mess as Vixen wrote "Ticklish" in Galactic Basic across the balls of her foot, taking extra care in every loop and flourish of her writing.

All Ahsoka could think was what was going on? Where was Aayla? Why wasn’t she here for a dramatic rescue?


“Is this your idea of a dramatic rescue, Jedi?” Vixen said, as she walked back into the room where the captive Jedi was housed, her high-heeled boots clacking off the floor. One of Vixen’s cronies had fetched Vixen from her ticklish ministrations with Ahsoka, as Aayla Secura had offered to make a deal. “If you’re just here to waste my time…” Vixen's voice trailed off ominously as she glared down at Aayla’s pale blue soles, which curled up protectively when the Jedi saw where she was looking.

“I… have considered your terms,” the Jedi said, looking disgusted with herself. “And I wish to put an end to Padawan Ahsoka’s suffering. You can have your deal.”

“The mighty Jedi master caving…” Vixen snorted, as she drew out a clawed hand and began stroking it up and down the Twilek soles that still laid there bound and helpless. “What is the world coming to?”

“Boys, come on in,” Vixen shouted, as a gaggle of her slavers came in, bearing cameras and other recording equipment. “Just a bit of insurance to ensure that the mighty Aayla Secura won’t go back on her mind. You Jedi can do nasty tricks to memory, but what is on the nets stays there forever,” she said, smiling a predatory smile. “Smile for the camera, Jedi!” Just about the last thing Aayla wanted to do was smile, but the fingers that fluttered up and down her soles took her autonomy out of the decision. They traced a devastating ticklish path along her pale blue feet, right along all the spots Vixen knew would be the most unbearable for the headstrong Jedi. Aayla desperately wanted to avoid embarrassing herself on camera, but not laughing was a lot easier said than done at this point.

“Put on a good show, Jedi… it wouldn’t do if we had to retake all this,” the Vix woman grinned as she slowly raked across those tender Twilek arches, tracing the lines of Aayla’s wrinkled soles. “Don’t worry, it’ll be your padawan’s turn next…”


“So how did your mission with the slavers go?” Anakin asked, as she ran into Ahsoka and Aayla outside the Jedi Temple.

“Don’t even ask!” Ahsoka and Aayla said in unison, as they marched past him, averting his gaze.

“Women,” Anakin laughed, shaking his head.

03-31-2015, 10:08 PM
You really are a Star Wars enthusiast. I enjoyed the story very much so. You're knowledge of Star Wars far exceeds my own. However, the content of the story makes up for it because it's just so smooth. I've learned a thing or two by reading this today. Thank you. :)

04-01-2015, 08:42 AM
Actually, the Star Wars stories were commission work xD

Though as I'm familiar with the subject-matter, I'm happy to write them!

Thanks for the kind words. I hope your next story is going well btw!