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View Full Version : The Paxim Strikes Back (f/f, all over, adult themes, ticklegasms)



oneortheother
04-09-2015, 07:31 PM
O-O-O

Commander Celeste of the Paxim bristled with fury as she descended onto the ruined city. It was one thing to lose in battle to the fearsome Boudo horde, or to the shrewd Faen scientists, but to lose to the incompetent Maen forces? To lose to the guys known throughout the galaxy as ‘sand people’ because of their brown skin and the fact it was so repel their wimpy, poorly structured attacks?

Today the Maen would be shown the unique Paxim combination of elegance and ferocity. Celeste caught her reflection in the cracked window panel of an abandoned store. Celeste thought she might have been a little biased, but she felt it was fair to say that today she was dressed to kill. She wore yellow ankle boots that matched her golden hair, black military-issue nylon stockings, a matching mini-skirt and a black lacy top embroided with Paxim sigils. She had the newest Paxim technological toy at her hip – a tickle-whip that was equally capable of delivering ticklish strikes as it was immobilizing foes.

There was a scheduled meeting with a Maen negotiator in a few hours, and Celeste was looking forward to showing them Paxim bureaucracy in action. She smiled and wiggled her fingers, admiring the way her golden nails caught in the light. She was looking forward to expressing her terms in precise, exquisite detail.

The Maen Empire had overstepped their boundaries by invading Paxim territory… and even if the Maen had won the first battle, Celeste was going to show them that did not mean they would win the war.

O-O-O

“Hello, negotiator. I hope you are sitting comfortably,” Celeste smiled. At first glance, it might seem like she playing the part of the gracious host, but the reality was far from it. Celeste and the negotiator were seated in a plush conference room that had been untouched by the fighting. The interior design was truly remarkable, with its beautifully-crafted wooden tables, oil-paintings and assorted pottery collection, but one’s attention was most drawn to the eagle-spread Timaeus negotiator who was bound to the long wooden conference table.

“Is this what you call Paxim diplomacy?” the dark-haired, copper-skinned Timaeus woman spat as she writhed in her bonds. “I came under a peace banner!”

“We don’t negotiate with lower life-forms,” Celeste said, her head raised high. “And I tire of that screechy, nagging voice of yours. Gag her.”

The indignant negotiator continued to spout obscenities as a pair of colourfully-haired Paxim soldiers forcibly inserted a plastic ball gag into the squirming negotiator’s mouth.

“Now, I said we don’t negotiate, but we do have terms for you,” Celeste said, giving the gagged negotiator her sweetest Paxim smile. In any other scenario, her smile would have been an alluring sight, but today it was tinged with venom. One saw no warmth in her smile, only teeth.

“Let’s give you our terms, shall we? And don’t worry… we know the Timaeus aren’t the brightest of races, so we’ll helpfully be writing this all down for you. We are so kind, aren’t we?” Celeste chuckled, as she snapped her fingers and her attendants stripped away the negotiator’s sandy brown robes with their proud Maen sigil. The negotiator’s grunts took on an even more aggrieved tone as the reduced her to her undergarments. The Paxim attendants giggled and turned up her nose at the sight of those hideously unfashionable things, as they re-did the straps that bounding the red-faced Timaeus to the table. The negotiator’s arms grew wide as the Paxim attendants took out marker pens and uncapped them in front of her.

“Down to business. I have a few things to say about the Maen Empire…” Celeste began, letting her contempt creep into her words. She pointed at the negotiator’s neck, and her attendants immediately understand the significance. “Your people are worthless, inept, cowardly, yet vain, and think to usurp from your betters.” As Celeste spoke, the two attendants etched the insults along the neck of the bound negotiator with their pens. The scratchy feel of the marker was clearly having a ticklish effect on the woman, as she wailed and giggled as the markers probed along her skin. “It is a testament to the stupidity of your people to send you out here like this. What did you think would happen? We would just let you encroach on our territory, just like that?” Celeste chided, as the markers worked tirelessly, writing the offending comments on the negotiator’s pronounced collarbones, which based on her wiggling which almost upset the writing of the negotiators’, were quite ticklish.

“You stay still, you,” Celeste ordered, poking at the negotiator’s side. “If you smudge their writing, we’re going to brush you clean and start all over again,” she said, with a cruel smile as the Timaeus woman’s brown eyes widened in shock. “Let me take a look,” Celeste said, as the attendants stepped back so Celeste could admire their handiwork. “Excellent penmanship,” she grinned, as she drew her long, varnished nails along the woman’s neck and collarbones, making the negotiator squirm and grunt giggles into the gag.

“Now where was I?” Celeste pondered, as she continued to tease those protruding collarbones with the tips of her nails. “Ahh, yes. The Timaeus shall leave our lands, and reimburse us for all the damages,” Celeste pointed at the negotiator’s taut, hairless underarms, and the attendants instantly began scribbling away in them. “You will pay for the damages done to the cities, buildings, local businesses, historical relics, natural landscape, and… people,” Celeste said, as her attendants dutifully wrote each detail in the hollows of the negotiator’s quivering armpits.

The suppressed howling became more apparent, which Celeste interpreted as a question regarding price. “How much you ask? An excellent question… I would say… 500,000 galactic credits for the damage to infrastructure… perhaps 200,000 to rebuild our city hall…” she rattled off a list of repayments, and the attendants continued to scratch every minute detail into those ticklish brown armpits till they were filled from tricep to upper rib in writing.

“My people will not be satisfied with simply monetary repayments though… we will also require some… public service for your crimes,” Celeste said, smiling at the sight of the negotiator’s simply bra, which was promptly plucked off. The Timaeus had been enjoying the tickling more than she let on, based on the perkiness of the nipple, though her panicked barks of laughter as the two Paxim attendants scribbled the public punishment all the leading Timaeus commanders would have to undergo.

By the time the two Paxim attendants had finished listing out the precise details of the public tickling humiliation the Timaeus would have to tolerate, moans were audibly heard through the gag.

“I think she’s enjoying these negotiations too much,” Celeste chuckled. “Let’s write the new map of territories on her stomach, shall we? Let’s see how she likes that…”

After the map had been finished and illustrated in meticulous detail, with the attendants even producing paintbrushes to paint the mountains and seas, the negotiator was a flustered mess. A flustered mess with a painting on her muscular abdomen, but a flustered mess nonetheless.

“Remove her gag,” Celeste commanded. “Do you know why we are doing this to you?”

“To… send… a message,” the negotiator spat, as she panted for breathe. The gag had been interfering with her breathing.

“Actually, that’s kind of close,” Celeste said as she snapped her fingers, and the negotiator’s bonds were unhooked from the tables. “What message do you think it would be?”

“Not to fuck with you guys,” the negotiator grunted, as she rubbed her wrists and stood up.

“Do you think your Empress will listen to you?” Celeste asked, stroking her chin.

There was a tense silence in the room as all eyes turned to the negotiator, who gulped nervously. Sweat was beading down her brown and down her bare brown back.

“No…” the negotiator said reluctantly. “They will retaliate in force.”

“Bingo,” Celeste clapped, and in a flash, the negotiator was pushed back on the table. This time they tied her on her stomach so her ample rump was visible to all. One of the attendants brandished a pair of scissors, and carefully snipped away the negotiator’s underwear, so her tanned buttocks were on full display.

“We’re doing this to send a message… and also because this is incredibly fun. It also gives us an opportunity to flex our creative side. Isn’t that right, girls?”

The smirking Paxim attendants nodded. “Now let’s write down a few personal messages to your Empress…” Celeste said, as she tested out the negotiator’s ticklishness on her feet by giving a quick scribbling right in the middle of the right sole. The negotiator squeaked, and tried to squirm free as the attendants fixed the gag back in her mouth but it was no use.

“Go write some heartfelt messages on those wiggling Timaeus toes of hers, I want to see that rump dance for me!” Celeste giggled, as she picked up a feather and began twirling it along the negotiator’s amble behind. Clearly a nice butt had been in the job description of Timaeus negotiator.

The attendants sat down on the negotiator’s calves so the jiggling would not disrupt their work, held the sole firmly with one and set to scrawling. The negotiator’s ticklish feet were property of the Paxim, and there was nothing she could do about it. The Paxim attendants were embracing the opportunity to show off their creative, as they sketched various silly images and wrote multiple mocking phrases such as "Super ticklish spot here", "I'm a ticklish little negotiator", and "Paxim property" in any piece of open skin they could find on the poor, defenceless feet.

All the while, those accursed pens tormented her brown feet, and the feather dancing over her rump drove her to a special kind of agony. Soon tears of ticklish agony were rolling down your cheeks.

“Regretting it, aren’t you? Hopefully before long, all your people will be regretting invading our territory too…” Celeste said, her voice cold and cruel. “Let’s continue till she passes out, girls. Let’s see this famed Maen perseverance.”

O-O-O


“I don’t know what they were expecting,” Centurion Aelia said smugly. The proud Timaeus leader was surveying the field, as she watching a parade of coloured Paxim troopers throw down their weapons and run. The Timaeus had used the same tactic the Hattori had taught them – feign weakness, lure the foes in deeper, and then strike back. The tactic had gone off flawlessly again, Aelia was pleased to see, as a breeze whipped her braided black hair to and fro.

They had captured a few of the Paxim stragglers, and Aelia’s right hand came jogging up to report. “Caelia, you bring good word, I trust?”

“Another victory for the Maen Empire,” Aelia’s sister replied. Caelia was a negotiator by trade, but she had begged leave from the Empress to be allowed to participate in this counter-raid. She had not enjoyed her time under Paxim ‘hospitality’. Her neck still had marks from the obscene writings those Paxim brats had scrawled onto her skin, though most were covered by her tunic.

“There’s not much in the way of resistance. You might as well find some blonde to take out your frustrations on,” Aelia offered, with a chuckle. Her sister had mentioned the woman in charge was a yellow-haired shrew, so Aelia thought it might be quite therapeutic if she could tickle some flaxen-haired Paxim wench for a few fun hours. “In fact, I found someone you might like the look of…” Aelia said, as she gestured towards a redheaded Paxim soldier who sat with her ankles and wrists bound. Her coat had been removed, so she sat there in her tiny mini-skirt and crop top which exposes a hint of a cute white belly.

“One of the lovely attendants who had so much fun tormenting me,” Caelia gasped, a smile blossoming on her face. “Oh sister, you shouldn’t have!” she cried, giving Aelia a quick hug.

“I know… I’m amazing”, Aelia said, sounding more like her sister than her superior. “Now have your fun and get back here later. We might need you,” Aelia switched back, sounding stern.

“Might?” Caelia scoffed. “The battle is over and done. Now let me enjoy the spoils of war!”

Caelia strutted her way over to the crimson-haired Paxim attendant. She recognized the bold shade of red of the attendant’s elegantly curled hair in an instant. Caelia dimly wondered for a moment how the Paxim possibly conceived such a psychedelic shade of red would possibly be appropriate for the battlefield. It damn sure made stealth impossible, with hair that bright!

“Remember me?” Caelia said by way of greeting, as she pulled up her tunic, to reveal the painted map stretched over her taut abdomens.

“The ticklish negotiator,” the attendant said, in a tone that lacked enough fear and respect for Caelia case.

“That’s not my name, Paxim scum,” Caelia growled.

“And my name’s not Paxim scum,” the Paxim attendant said, with a mischievous smile.

“Then what is your name, prisoner?”

“Mars,” the attendant said. She turned her head cheekily. “Are you going to ask me on a date? Do you want me to show you how to do your hair and your nails?”

“You’re a disgrace to any honest soldier,” Caelia grunted, as she drew her tickle-dagger from her belt.

“What would the Maen know of honest soldiers? You won using dishonest tactics before, and that’s how you won today. Don’t preach to me about honour, you sanctimonious little slop.”

“I don’t know what sanctimonious means, but I’m betting it’s not good.” Caelia said, as she gestured at a pair of Timaeus soldiers walking past, and after a quick word, they passed her a pair of tickle-sabers.

“You’ll be ‘negotiating with our commander again before long,” Mars threatened.

“You’re all talk, Paxim. And I had enough of your yapping in that negotiations room. I’ll give you a chance to win your freedom,” Caelia leaned forward with the tickle-saber, and fried Mars’s ankles. Her wrists however, remained tied together in front of her, where she received a tickle-saber.

“I won’t tie you down. I’ll actually give you a fighting chance,” Caelia smiled, as she brandished her tickle-saber in hand.

“My wrists are still tied… how’s that for fairness?” Mars sneered.

“I’d call that home court advantage. Engarde!” Caelia said, as she slashed at the Paxim’s midsection. The unexpected strike landed a solid burst of ticklish sensations on the exposed milky-white skin on the Paxim’s stomach.

“Gahahaha, you cheater!” Mars half-giggled, as she made a clumsy swipe with her blade. The first blade soared over Caelia’s head, and Caelia interposed her blade to meet the second strike.

“You’re not strong enough, Paxim!” Caelia laughed mockingly, as she pushed forward till the smaller Paxim’s back was pushed against a tree. Using all her body weight, to press down on the sword, Caelia darted out with her other hand, and began to stroke a ticklish path across that alluring Paxim stomach.

Caelia could feel Mars quivering beneath her as the Paxim tried to slip free, but Caelia pushed her body closer against her, to pin Mars firmly against the firm oak.

“What’s wrong? Ticklish tummy?” Caelia mocked as she danced her fingers playfully around the belly, bringing forth more snickering and wriggling from the redheaded Paxim. "Ticklish tummy?"

“Nohohohoho, stahahap!” Mars begged, trying even harder to dislodge the saber that kept her pinned to the tree, but she wasn’t strong enough. She could not move away without sacrificing her blade.

“Then too bad…” Caelia chuckled, as she plunged a finger into Mars’s bellybutton. The trapped girl squirmed even harder as she felt Caelia’s rough hand poke and pinch at her exposed belly. “Typical Paxim… without your toys and your buddies, you’re useless.”

“Grrrrrahahaha!” Mars suddenly howled, half-wild with laughter, as she dropped her sword and suddenly pounced at the negotiator. Ten nails suddenly rippled across Caelia’s belly to her sides, and then back again. Screaming with surprise, Caelia thrashed and arched her back to escape, but there were no avoiding Mars’s ticklish advances when she was so close. Caelia tried to swing her sword, but it become impossible when Mars’s long crimson-red fingernails migrated to Caelia’s underarms.

Deciding to use her foe’s tactic against her, Caelia too dropped her sword and rammed headlong into her Paxim opponent. They both went tumbling to the ground, in a mess of branches of leaves. They grappled for a while on the ground, but still having her wrists bound, Mars was at a severe disadvantage. A few disorienting pokes to her sides and ribs and Caelia swooped for the kill.

Two strong Timaeus hands plunged into Mars’s armpits from behind, fierce fingers wriggling. The Paxim shrieked, her fatigued body out of energy from the struggles as her knees buckled and she fell forwards. Mars fell face first to the ground, and seizing the opportunity, Caelia straddled her back, all the while still using her hands to weave into those ticklish Paxim armpits. After a few moments of resistance-crushing underarm tickling, Caelia slid down to Mars’s calves and pulled off the Paxim’s high-heeled boots. With Long fingernails gliding up and down her pedicured, flawless Paxim soles, Mars was laughing too hard to do anything but wiggle those pretty red-painted toes of hers.

She was so preoccupied with tickling the milky-white soles in front of her that she did not even realize what was going on around her. It wasn’t till she realized that the laughter all around her was too loud and frantic to just be Mars’s that she saw that something was amiss. Caelia’s grasp on the Paxim sole slackened, and Mars pulled her foot away, now slightly reddened from the tickling. Caelia’s mouth gaped open as she saw Paxim cavalry swooping through the streets of the city.

The tide had turned, Caelia realized with a sense of dread. Mars’s laughter suddenly sounded a lot less mirthful and a lot more menacing.

O-O-O

Commander Celeste could not believe they had really been so gullible. Did they think they had copyrighted the tactic or something? Celeste had to confess – the Paxim were brilliant military minds when it comes to accessorizing, and how to look good when using their fancy toys, but they were not renowned for their tactical brilliance.

Aware of this, Celeste had suggested a tactic that was excellent precisely because it was so unthinkably simple. The Paxim would incorporate the Maen’s own tactics against them. They fought fake a desperate strike, then quickly retreat upon receiving resistance. When the one-time defenders turned to pursue, the fleeing army would regroup (with reinforcements lurking nearby) and smash the new attackers. Part of the reason it had worked today was probably because the Maen Empire must have thought there was nobody who would be that stupid – who would be dumb enough to use a gimmicky tactic like that against the guys who had been the first ones to use it? But the Paxim had done it, and it had worked. There was no way in hell it would work a third-time, barring a crazy double-bluff (there’s no way they would do it a second time… would they?) but the fact that it worked today was more than enough.

Celeste surveyed the battlefield, whip in hand, and her multi-coloured honour guard at her heels. Everywhere she saw explosions of colour. Mostly Paxim squads maneuvering to launch their devastating tickle blasts from their weapons, but she noticed pockets of resistance too. Brown figures moving like mud against the colourful rainbow garb of the Paxim crusaders.

The Paxim Commander made a beeline to the main Maen encampment, snapping her whip at any Timaeus interlopers who tried to take a shot at the proud leader of the Paxims. A howling Timaeus trooper with ragged brown hair that looked like she cut it herself feel to a shot to her ticklish knees, and a few ticklish licks from Celeste’s whip had her mewling like a kitten, as Celeste’s honour guard ensured the sand woman was out for the count.

The bloodied Paxims rapidly arrived at the main host of the Maen Empire. Much of the battle was a clamber of confusion and chaos. Explosions of colour and movement where everywhere, so Celeste was having difficulty recognizing her target – she knew the Maen Empire was founded of figureheads, and once she dealt with their leader, they would scatter like the sand people that they were. She wanted to deal with this quickly. She had better things to do.

“Centurion!” Celeste yelled, over the laughter and din of battle. “Centurion! Where are you? I, Commander Celeste, challenge you to a duel!”

Unfortunately, being the uncivilized savages that they were, the Timaeus fighters were too preoccupied with fighting to pay heed to Celeste’s words. Celeste had to do the undignified task of searching for her foe herself – she assigned her honour guard to keep an eye out for the Centurion’s distinctive armour, but it was still a tedious task when she finally came upon the Maen leader for this operation.

The armour certainly looked like the markings of a Centurion, or at least someone somewhat important, though as was typical for the Maen, the woman wearing the armour did not look like much. “Please tell me you are the Centurion in charge of you Timaeus dogs,” Celeste said in a bored tone. She had asked this question about twenty times in the past thirty minutes, and it was getting very repetitive.

“You must be Celeste. My name is Centurion Aelia. You tickled my sister. Prepare to laugh,” Centurion Aelia growled.

O-O-O

Upon closer inspection, the resemblance was quite uncanny, Celeste had to admit. Aelia had the same ‘tickle me silly’ face as her negotiator sister. They both had the same insolent high cheekbones and curvaceous body. Aelia looked like had already been whisked around the maelstrom of battle a few times – her outfit was torn, though the Centurion’s crest on her chest was still clearly visibly. She had lost her sandals, exposing a pair of brown feet that Celeste was curious to discover if they would be ticklish in the same spots as her sister.

Unfortunately, it was as Celeste was admiring those brown bare feet that they suddenly moved – the feet dug into the loose sand and grit on the floor and kicked up, sending dirt right into Celeste’s pristine face!

Spluttering with indignation, Celeste cracked her whip, but with dust in her eyes, her aim was off, as Aelia tackled her with surprising strength. Celeste landed on her back, with Aelia’s rough fingers digging into her sides to take her breath away. Celeste could feel tears forming in her eyes as fingers teased her tummy. She looked up and saw her honour guard were busy with Aelia’s own – it looked like she would get no reinforcements. Celeste tried to flick her wrist and use her whip, but with lightning-quick reflexes, a grimacing Aelia caught the whip in her hand, and quickly twisted it around Celeste’s own wrists till her arms were tired with her own weapon!

And then, with monkeyish dexterity, Aelia shifted her position, turning her back on the panting Paxim warrior and sat on her chest. Celeste grit her teeth as she felt the rough fingertips of the Timaeus centurion pull up her shirt to brush along her stomach once more.

“I saw you staring at my feet just now… how do you like them now?” Aelia said cryptically, but the answer was quickly apparent.

Celeste’s whole body jolted as if she had been electrified – instead of an attack on her toned midsection, Aelia had pressed her slender, brown toes against her armpits. They jabbed and prodded as roving fingernails continued to torment her stomach.

“No one tickles my sister and gets away with it… aside from me!” Aelia grinned, as she dipped a finger into Celeste’s pierced belly button while her toes continued their frenzied poking in those immaculate underarms.

Celeste made an attempt to tickle the feet that were tormenting her in this two pronged attack, but due to her squirming and the way her wrists were tied, she could not do more than land occasional glancing strokes, which was nothing compared to the ticklish onslaught her stomach and underarms were receiving. Aelia was even beginning to delve lower, and tweak Celeste’s knees and squeeze along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

The worst part was those damned slender toes of hers. They were ugly things, without nail polish, but damn, were they effective. They kept Celeste firmly on the defensive, and whenever Celeste tried to wiggle away by twisting her body to one side, the increased pressure from a foot in an armpit would steer her back onto her back.

So Celeste did the only thing she could think to do. She hooked her bound wrists around a bare brown foot, twisted to the side, and tickled as ferociously as she could. The sudden onslaught of ticklish sensations must have taken Aelia by surprise, as the relentless attacks to Celeste’s mid-section ceased for a moment, but only for a moment.

Hearing growls intermingled with giggles, Celeste felt Aelia latch around her ankle, and rip off her beautiful high boots. Her uncouth fingers were running down Celeste’s perfectly pedicured foot as the two warriors fought in an endurance tickling match, both of them refusing to surrender to the other foe. It was a battle that might have gone on forever – two devoted fighters selflessly sacrificing them for victory… if one of Celeste’s honour guard hadn’t shot Aelia in the back after hearing her commander’s squeal.

O-O-O

“You know, I am genuinely sorry for how our battle ended, it should not have ended like that,” Celeste said, in the Paxim dungeons. A naked Aelia lay before her, in a seated position with her feet set in stocks and her arms stretched over her head, howling with laughter.

In the dungeon room adjacent to her, Caelia was eagle-spread across a table, being seen to by a quintet of Paxim attendants, including Mars, who seemed to be particularly relishing her task. Caelia’s treatment this time was of the orgasmic denial variety, which Celeste had always personally felt was even worse than a straight-up tickle torture session because of its ambivalence. A Paxim lapping at each foot, while another pair of Paxim lapped at her sides and stomach, where the paint from before was still faintly visible. A final Paxim was using a stiff feather to lightly tease Caelia’s womanhood, enough to set her aflame with lust, but not enough to make anything of it. Every minute they would switch from tongues to tools, and a moaning Caelia would suddenly shriek as combs and hairbrushes raked over her brown soles and feathers danced on her abdomen. And Celeste knew better than anybody that once the tickling tap was turned on, it was impossible to turn it off.

“I mean, I’m glad my sister-in-arms stepped in. I guess that makes my sister better than yours?” Celeste asked, though Aelia was laughing far too hard to response. Aelia had all the tickling torment and none of the erotic enjoyment, as stiff hairbrushes raked over her soles and evil painted fingernails tickled all over her body.

“So how’s this for a deal… you tell me what I want to know, and the tickling…”Celeste brushed her finger along Aelia’s bronzed inner thigh. “Does not have to be quite so torturous. I’ll give you some time to think it over…”

lancashirelad1
04-10-2015, 01:05 AM
Very good!