View Full Version : Star Wars TK: Maid Infiltration

09-06-2016, 08:07 PM
Star Wars TK: Maid Infiltration
(This story takes place before Episode IV: A New Hope).

My name is Hannah Chase, or at least that is my name for the current operation.

I find that names are like hats. You wear different hats for different jobs. An espionage job would require an Illicit Electronics visor to hack into system’s vulnerabilities. A combat job would require a Zemphyr Defenders, Incorporated reinforced combat helmet to prevent an inopportune headshot from scorching your brain. A seduction job might require no hat at all, though I lack experience in that field, unfortunately.

I took a bit of offence to the fact that my bosses have never selected me for advanced espionage training courses, are they insinuating I’m not pretty enough to sucker some foolish senator somewhere? Then again, agencies like the one I worked for were not known for generosity or kindness. I was just an asset to them, though to be fair, the feeling was mutual.

I looked at myself in the mirror of the staff changing rooms as I posed in my black negligee and sheer black nylons. My outfit would allow me to blend in with the staff here at the palace on Alderaan.

“Now who could resist my charms?” I said to myself as I posed in the mirror, giggling as my eyes went from my sleek dirty-blonde hair, which contrasted nicely to my lightly-tanned skin, to my toned legs and ample bosom.

Sighing to myself, I picked up the hat (a tacky white headpiece) though I felt better knowing today would be my last day on the job, no matter what happened. It felt a bit degrading, these past few weeks, to be posing as the humble housemaid of some nosy senator, but it wouldn’t be the first time I had to swallow my pride for a job. I shuddered as I remembered the months I had to spend working as some slimy Hutts’ entertainment on some backwater planet just so I could eavesdrop on a few conversations. I can’t even remember his name, Jerga or Jatta or something. They say every Hutt has their own twisted flavour of depravity, and the Hutt I worked for took a particular pleasure in the torture of attractive young females of all races. And the worst thing about it was that he was as pragmatic as he was sadistic. He knew how most forms of torture would leave physical marks, thus diminishing the worth of any of his girls… so he was keen to inflict the most childish yet insufferable torture method of all – tickling. To claim that tickling was torture among my associates would be laughed at, but I knew just how intolerable it could be.

It felt like only yesterday. If I closed my eyes I could still picture it all in my mind’s eye:

A gargantuan great hall filled with the Hutt’s associates, customers, and beautiful young females of almost every race which could boast ticklish sensitivity. There were a dizzying variety of contraptions to bind the ticklish females in every way possible. Each bondage device was designed differently to cater for a unique type of torment and each girl in the Hutt’s collection could find themselves in a different device every day. For myself, there were a few particular devices that were especially memorable:

There was a synthetic leather sack that resembled sleeping bags that were still used in some backwater countries, which had cords that tightened around the chests, hips, thighs, knees and ankles. At each of these points buzzing vibrators were located, and I can confirm they tickled immensely. The section underneath the cord around the ankles could also be removed, so the feet were available to be tickled too. I remember spending a day in that devilish contraption while wearing sleek nylons which I swear made me even more ticklish. It was hard to say what was worse, the vibrators or the endless two-bit smugglers and mercenaries who gave me a continuous dose of tickling on my nyloned soles.

There was metal frame in the shape of an X that was unique in that being tickle in that X-frame always came along with sensory deprivation. They would blind you and deafen you with temporary implants, though they would never gag you, as the Hutt loved the sound of frenzied female laughter. Words cannot describe how nerve-wracking it is to lay there, your entire body on edge as you wonder where the next ticklish strike will come from. It’s the anticipation that makes it so unbearable. Will it be a hand in your armpit? Will it be a feather in your belly button? Will it be a finger tracing down your nyloned foot? Even if you got it right, your only prize would be more helpless laughter.

There was a set of mechanical stocks with tiny grasping claws that pulled all of a captive’s toes back, which I remembered that all the girls who were especially foot-sensitive (such as myself) always despised because of how exposed it always left you, but then again, every device left you exposed in some shape or form, so it was simply a case of picking your poison.

Each of the contraptions were magnetized to the metal floor, though at the Hutt’s command, they would be demagnetized and moved in front of him so he could enjoy a close-up of that particular female and sometimes partake in it himself.

I opened my eyes. I could feel my toes curling in my boots as I remembered those dark days spent in all those nefarious devices. One of the consolations of working there was that over time I realized the viability of tickle-torture as a weapon. And for every lustful blue-skinned Twi’lek who would lie back in the stocks and wiggle their feet to tease the hulking great Hutt and his associates to come over and tickle them silly, there were nine orange-skinned Togrutas or slender Mirialans for whom the tickling would go from ‘funny’ to ‘torturous’ within minutes.

And I was very pleased to confirm that my target of this mission, a certain Miss Leia Organa, an outspoken young senator, was definitely in the latter camp. It was by sheer coincidence that I discovered this fact.

In the first few days, I had chosen to keep a low profile, and simply make note of the Princess’s schedule. It was just during a beauty treatment where I realized how acutely sensitize this so-called social justice warrior was.


The first time I saw how striking beautiful a woman Leia Organa was, was when she received her royal treatments at the palace’s beauty parlor, a warmly lit room with luxurious padded chairs, velvet footrests, and massage tables.

Admitting another woman’s beauty is something that I find difficult as it always leaves a bitter taste of envy in my mouth, but I had to confess that Senator Organa’s beauty was breathtaking, though I have to say, if I could get the amount of luxury treatments as she did there was no doubt that I would look as flawlessly stunning as her, with her unblemished alabaster skin, attractive complexion and fashionable attire. Her healthy brown hair took a long time to curl into her iconic brown buns which was her signature look. I had never imagined it would take quite so long to do!

It was my third day at the Alderaan Palace where the idea of tickling first came to me. I had facilitated the other girls from the background at first, handing tools and other beauty products to the experts as they gave Leia a mani-pedi. At the first glance of Senator Organa’s bare feet, I could clearly see that they had been pampered since their youth and clearly had been ever since. Leia had a tight grin on her face as one of the other serving girls massaged her feet lightly with firm pressure and a solid grip and I immediately recognized the tell-tale signs of ticklish feet. This suspicion was soon confirmed, as one of the other serving girls began applying a glossy, transparent polish on Leia’s royal toes, which were long, shapely things that splayed about energetically when touched. And splay and wiggle they did, as Leia put her hand over her mouth to suppress the giggles as the brush that was applying the nail polish inadvertently brushed lightly against the tips and the pads of those slender toes.

Her soles were a sight to behold – soft, smooth and milky-white skin with pronounced wrinkles. When I leaned closer to them, with the excuse of handing the serving girl some tool or another, I could see the utter softness of the Princess’s soles in every barely visible wrinkle that lined the spaces where her heels met her soles and the middles of her inviting arches.

What Leia said as she suppressed her dignified giggles was almost inviting me to tickle her silly.

"At least I'm not wearing nylons,” Leia said, with a wriggle of her dainty royal toes. “Or this would be even worse!"

As the other housemaids murmured in polite agreement, it was then I decided I had to tickle them. Those recently pedicured feet would not have a chance, as I suddenly recalled the forced pedicures I had received in Jinza’s dungeons, but those were dark thoughts as I curled my toes in remembrance.

“But this time it’ll be Senator Organa laughing, not me.”


There was a smile on my face as I recalled the Princess’s suppressed giggles, as I looked forward to seeing her laugh for real, in panicked ticklish desperation, but I almost felt guilty over it when I remembered why I had been sent here.

The brash young senator had been poking her nose where it didn’t belong. The Czerka Arms Corporation, one of the most powerful companies in the system, had gotten word that she had gotten wind of illegal arms sales which, if proved, could result in the loss of Czerka weapons contracts, costing the company billions of credits. The Czerka Arms Corporation had hired my company, which in turn had sent me here. My job was simple: infiltrate the Alderaan palace posing as one of the palace maids and 'persuade' the Princess to drop the senate motion and to recover the data chip containing the incriminating evidence. My associates had left the question of how to ‘persuade’ young Leia Organa open-ended, and they were far less concerned with the means than the end result.

Tickling would be the perfect interrogation method, as the subject was demonstrably sensitive, it left no visible marks, and the embarrassment factor alone would likely be enough to make Organa keep quiet about it. The fact that it would be enjoyable to have a writhing helpless person under my fingertips would be a bonus. Perhaps Jonza had a point. I smiled to myself as I looked at my fingernails, which I had carefully filed to a sharp point to make them perfect for tickling.

It would be an interrogation, but I bore Senator Organa no ill-will, and I wondered how playful I could afford to be with her. I did this job, not only because of the creds, but because of how fun it was. It was so much better than being crammed in some anonymous cubicle somewhere.

I looked at myself to see if everything was in order. My black and white maid’s uniform fit snugly, and I like to think I filled the uniform out nicely. My small concealed blaster had its safety on, and was safely hidden at the small of my back where it would not be noticed. The stun cuffs and a few other toys she had prepared for later were tucked into the pouches of my fashionable belt.

“Ms. Chase? Are you alright in there?” it was the security guard who had seen me go in to change.

“I’m great,” I said, as I pushed the door open and gave him a smile. “Just great.”


Princess Leia Organa sat at her desk, deep in thought, with her fingers steepled together. She was making further preparations for the Senate debate about the Czerka Arms Corporation that would be taking place in a few days. Senator Organa knew her voice would be key in determining whether or not the motion to ban/penalize the Czerka Corporation would be passed, so she needed time to focus and revise her arguments and consolidate the data she had received. That valuable information, which she was sure Czerka’s goons would be more than happy to take from her, was in a holocron hidden in the vault in her study. The vault had all the latest security, all the most expensive and up-to-date equipment that Alderaan royalty could afford. No one was getting in that vault without her permission.

She sent her housemaids away as she wished to work in solitude, as she found it would make things easier for her to focus on the work at hand. Hannah Chase, the hired Czerka spy who was a Kashyyyk, vine snake hiding among the Alderaan Daisies, smiled at this news. She pretended to file out with the other servants, lagging behind on the pretext of fiddling with the straps on her shoes. As soon as the other housemaids were out of sight, no doubt already having been assigned some dreary task, Hannah slipped back into the room. Hannah had kept a low enough profile among the other servants that her disappearance would not be noticed. Working at the palace was a surprisingly cushy job as the disciplining was fairly lax, and she noticed many a servant slacking off with minimal repercussions.

The Princess’s bedroom would have passed for a small library archive in some small towns. It was piled with scrolls and old books, a queen sized bed in the corner and a beautifully crafted desk to work on. It was now or never; the Princess’s private bedchambers naturally lacked the cameras and monitoring equipment which could be found almost ubiquitously around the palace. This made it the perfect place for Hannah to have a private word with the Princess about her plans regarding Czerka Corp, though she reminded herself never to mention the company by name in case the room was bugged.

Hannah pulled out a Neural Disruptor from her pouch. It was a very handy little device. It was shaped like a metallic collar, and if you slipped it on someone’s neck, it incapacitated anyone short of a Sith Lord. Hannah fiddled with the dials on it to ensure it was on the correct setting, and then confidently strode towards the seated senator.

“Can I help y-”

Hannah snapped the disruptor shut around the Princess’s pretty white neck, her eyes went fuzzy, and she hit the ground, slumping on the soft plush fabric.

“Good night,” Hannah said to herself, as she checked that Leia was still breathing and her training kicked in. Now it was time for the standard procedure. Hannah firstly sound-blocked the room with sound-dampening pads – military-grade issue. They were the type of things usually used in stealth field generators, so Hannah had confidence they would do a fine job muffling frenzied royal laughter. The last thing she did was to set up a visual recording device in the corner of the room. Chances were, if the Princess was half as ticklish as Hannah predicted, this would be quite an embarrassing affair, and it would be the perfect thing to use for blackmail. Smiling that everything seemed to be in order, it was time to prepare for a royal welcome.

“Now let’s get you more comfortable, Princess,” Hannah smirked, as she lifted the surprisingly-heavy senator (the Princess definitely wasn’t fat, so Hannah reasoned that Leia must be a lot more toned than she looked under those white robes) into an appropriate position for interrogation. Hannah deeply lamented that she did not have access to her old dungeons, as she considered using a simple hog-tied position before deciding to dump Leia on her swank Queen sized bed and tying her wrists and ankles to the bedposts with the stun cuffs.

The bound Princess was quite a fetching sight – the black nylons providing a striking contrast to the white robes. The last thing she did was to pluck off those royal slippers and feast herself to a close-up glance at Leia’s feet. Like the rest of her body, the Princess’s soles were flawless from her pedigree and pampering. Hannah had to admit, Leia had exceptional feet. Hannah could make out through the nylons that they were a creamy white with slight tinges of pink across the high deep arches, with several wrinkles across her soles. They looked invitingly enticing, slender things with shapely long toes. Hannah had never been much of a gambler, but in this case she was willing to bet they were even bit as soft and ticklish as they looked. The smooth black stockings she wore looked expensive, and accentuated the beauty of those appendages, though Hannah was more eager to test to see if they made her more ticklish. She couldn’t wait to scribble her long nails in those arches. This would be very fun. But Hannah made an effort to check the bondage first. It would be no good to have their session cut short.

Once Hannah was content that the Princess would not be escaping from her bounds any time soon, she prepared her plan of attack. She held in her hand a feather duster, which had been in her possession when she walked in. The duster was light and feathery, more likely to induce giggling than gut-busting laughter, but Hannah decided it would be a perfect litmus test in determining just how sensitive Princess Leia Organa truly was.

As Hannah looked at the unconscious face of the sleeping royal, Hannah found herself conflicted on whether or not she should use a blindfold. While Hannah would have appreciated seeing the defiance in the Princess’s eyes, it seemed to be more prudent to keep her blindfolded to better cover her tracks, but then again, surely they would be able to check the records and notice the disappearance of a certain Housemaid on a certain day… No blindfold, Hannah decided, as she put a finger on the Neural Disruptor and prepared to revitalize her guest.

It took a few seconds for the Neural Disruptor to fully deactivate, and for its owner to gradually fade back into coherent consciousness, and Hannah gleefully intended Leia to wake up with a smile on her face. As soon as the disruptor was turned off, Hannah set to dusting the trapped nyloned soles in front of her. The first sight that Princess Leia saw when she opened her eyes was a grinning blonde woman in a housemaid’s outfit, happily dusting up and down her feet and sending goosebumps through her body. Giggles escaped her mouth, as she squirmed and found herself securely bound to her own bed.

Hannah smiled as the Princess began to panic as she realized how trapped she was. The look on her face was worth a million credits – well, no, not really, Hannah corrected in her mind, but it was nice to see the appalled shock on the Princess’s beautiful features. Appalled shock was also deliciously quick to turn into restrained mirth too, which Hannah did not fail to notice.

The first sound she made was a sleepy giggle, though she quickly clamped her jaw shut stubbornly as she realized what was happening. She was too prideful to laugh in front of subordinate like Hannah, but Hannah looked forward to breaking her of that.

“Good morning, Princess”, Hannah greeted politely, though it was actually the afternoon. “I see you have woken up from your nap. I saw that your feet got a little dusty. Well, I’ve got to get it off.”

“Wha… heh, what are you doing? Stop ihihihit!” Leia said, in a voice that would have silenced a rowdy Senate floor, but was ineffective on Hannah who was playfully teasing the duster down her soles. The senator’s stern face would have otherwise been intimidating if not for the twitches along the corners of her mouth which betrayed her obvious ticklishness. The Princess had asked valid questions, and it was only natural that the Princess wanted to know, but Hannah knew from her training that rule number one of interrogations was establishing control. She would be the one asking questions around here.

“Little old me? Why, I’m just your humble servant, doing you a favour,” Hannah giggled, with mock courtousy as she spun the feather duster in her hands. She used firm strokes with the feather duster, wielding as if she were some fancy artist on Coruscant painting a masterpiece; only in this case, her artist’s tool was a feather duster, and her canvas was a pair of ticklish nylon-clad feet.

Hannah decided to keep the Princess waiting for now. She would explain her purpose in due course, but for now she wanted to keep Leia ignorant of her intentions, to establish that it was Hannah who had control over the situation.

Leia bit her lip. This situation wasn’t making any sense. Her mind was reeling. What was going on? Was this some juvenile prank? Just a rebellious housemaid with a problem with authority? Or was it something more? Unfortunately, the dusting of her feet was making it rapidly difficult to focus on such matters, as more and more giggles spilled from her lips.

It was getting harder to focus on anything but the feathering her poor feet were receiving. She had seen the housemaids use these dusters in the background before, but used on her sensitive soles they suddenly had a far more devilish application. The tips of the soft fluffy feathers were tantalizing on the skin of her feet, and they were so small and numerous it felt like she was being tormented by a swarm of feathers. She noticed her feet were tied close enough that they could hide behind each other, but Leia felt that doing so was only picking her poison. Hiding her right foot behind her left only meant that poor leftie bore the brunt of the feathery assault, until it was too much for leftie to bear and it was rightie’s turn to face the feathers. Her feet were equally horrifically ticklish, so it seemed to make no difference either way, but Leia appreciated having this level of control for now at least. She scrunched her pedicured toes and wiggled her feet to avoid the marauding feathers, but the feather duster followed her soles with laser-like precision. Leia could sometimes move her hyper-ticklish soles out of the way, but it only meant the sides of her feet or the tops of her feet would be teased, which were both almost as ticklish as her soles anyway.

Leia had never even realized that the sides of her feet or the insteps were even ticklish till the duster swept along them and made her squeak. Leia made more and more attempts to get her captive to stop. She tried shouting commands and questions at her captor:

“Whohohohoh are you?”

“Me? I’m the one whose feather duster is tickling your nylon-covered feet right now. Tickle, tickle, tickle…” her blonde captor said, as she alternating stoking the right foot and the left foot with slow methodical strokes.

“Why are you dohohohoing this?”

“More dust collects than you realize. I’m just a neat-freak,” her blonde captor said, as she pulled back Leia’s squirming toes and dusted every inch along the pads of the toes and in-between them.

“I comahahahand you tohoho stop!”

“I command you to laugh. Looks like my commands are working,” her blonde captor said, making Leia squeal as she pulled one foot back, raising the arch, and spun the feather duster wildly along Leia’s high arch, focusing right in the centre of the arch.

“I’ll hahahave you puhinised fohohohor thihisi!”

“Why, I’m just doing my job. Not my fault your feet are so dusty,” her blonde captor said, as she alternated between stroking the entire stockinged sole or just under the toes.

Eventually all Leia could muster the energy to do was laugh, and fight harder to free herself. Alas, the bonds held stronger, and the blonde housemaid-turned-tormentor delighted in tickling her into wild giggles. Leia could feel the back of her white robes becoming damp with sweat, and she was shocked at the high-pitched laughter coming from her lips. It was so… unbecoming. Here she was, noble senator and Alderaan royalty, laughing like a juvenile schoolgirl because of a little tickling. If this ever got out, she would be a laughing stock.

It felt like Leia had had her poor feet dusted for hours, but when she glanced at the ornate clock in the corner of the room, she was dismayed to see that it had only been fifteen minutes. She had stopped asking questions, and deigned to conserve her breath instead, as it was becoming harder and harder to breathe the way she was laughing so much.

After letting Leia laugh herself silly for a bit longer, Hannah decided she would stop playing around and get to business. Leia hadn't been a bad person to work for, per se, but Hannah still found it demeaning to be forced to act so subservient. Dominating her boss was the highest of thrills, but work was work.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re in this position, and it’s not just because I can’t get over how fun these pampered tootsies of yours,” Hannah said, as the trapped senator gasped for air. Leia fixed her with a fiery glare that would have silenced weak-willed politicians in the Senate, but Hannah was made of sterner stuff. The fact she was able to defuse the glare with a sweep up her nyloned soles with the duster helped too.

Leia didn’t offer a reply, as she probably expected Hannah to give her another sarcastic or silly answer if she did, so Hannah continued. “As you know, Senator Organa, there’s a big debate going on in the senate in a few days. My associates and I would ask that you withdraw from this debate.”

“So you’re one of Czerka’s pet Kath Hounds?” Leia spat. “You disgust me, do you even know what they’ve done? Do you know what they do to people on those planets in the Outer Rim?”

“All I know is what I’m going to do to you,” Hannah said, as she reached out with a hand and tweaked Leia’s big toe. “I’m going to tickle these tootsies pink… is that what you want?” Hannah asked, as she began gently pinching and wiggling her toes. She felt Leia jolt as Hannah’s razor-sharp fingernails made contact with the smooth nylon-clad soles for the first time.

“All my associates want is your word that you will drop the senate motion and to give up the data chip, yes, we know about the data chip,” Hannah said, scratching the tips of Leia’s toes to emphasize that she meant business. The Senator’s brown eyes were cool as ice, as she bit her lip defiantly and refused to laugh despite the toe-teasing. Hannah smirked at this petty gesture of defiance. She knew just how to deal with that.

Hannah snuck in a quick nail scribble down Leia’s soles. Leia squeaked, having been caught off guard by the sudden pawing of her arches. Hannah smiled, as just as had predicted, the squeak had broken the dam and had now paved the way for giggles.

“I can see you need some time to think about it,” Hannah said with smirk, as she pulled back the toes of Leia’s left foot. “Take your time,” she laughed, as she used her free hand to ruthlessly tickle every inch of each toe, individually, one at a time. Leia’s slender toes fought and squirmed valiantly, but they were no match for Hannah’s firm grip and her talon-like fingernails, as Hannah lovingly tickled every inch of those royal toes. She left no ticklish stone unturned as she stroked their sides, their pads, underneath, and especially in between.

“Stohohohop! Stahahahap! Leheheheheve my tohohohoes alohohohone!” Leia howled, thrashing in her bonds, but Hannah was determined to ignore her.

Hannah then set her toes free, prompting them to curl down tightly at once, but there wasn't much to celebrate, for it was only the other foot's turn. Hannah had decided she would tickle her for twenty minutes straight, making sure to cover the toes on both feet before stopping and giving her another opportunity to talk.

“But they’re so much fun to tickle! 'Coochie coochie coo, Princess!”

Hannah was having a blast tickling Leia’s feet. It was fun to watch how energetically the feet would fight so hard to escape from her grasp. Sometimes she would even reward a foot for its struggles by temporary sparing it from tickle-torment so she could besiege its twin instead. Hannah was delighted in the haughty Princess’s reactions, the way she snorted and squealed, the way she tossed her head from side to side, and how when the super-sensitive spot along the base of her toes was touched, Leia’s long, luxurious toes would splay in ten different directions, stretching the fabric of her stockings to the limit. Hannah would always take advantage of this springing open of her toes to sneak her fingers into the undersides of the toes and give them a good scratching. Hannah was genuinely worried that her sound-dampeners might be unable to suppress Leia’s high-pitched laughter when those hyperticklish spots between her toes were tickled.

By the time Hannah stopped, the Princess did not look nearly as defiant. Her royal curls were askew, sweat was beading down her forehand, and her face was red with laughter.

“You know, I think I’ve had enough of your toes for now…” Hannah said, as she saw a faint glimmer of hope in Leia’s eyes. Hannah smiled – extinguishing that hope would be fun. “Time to explore the rest of your soles…” She placed her hands at the ball of the foot and prepared to slowly stroke down to the heel and back up again!

“No, no, no, no! Stop it now! I demand you unhand me at once!” Leia said, finding new energy to be indignant at her tormentor. “You’ll never get away with this!”

My, my, my… you sure are pushy, for someone who's so helpless, Princess," Hannah said, slowly raking her nails down the smooth sole. The nylons made everything so much smoother, straightening out the skin even when Leia tried to wrinkle up her soles. Hannah was delighted by the way her nails were able to effortlessly glide up and down the silky surfaces. She had to figure out what brand of stockings these were. “Don’t you realize you’re mine? I told the other housemaids you left orders not to be disturbed till dinner time,” Hannah lied. “That’s seven more hours as my little tickle-toy… can you handle it?” Hannah had said no such thing, and in reality she only had another two hours. Maybe two and a half tops, but Leia didn’t need to know that. “So tell me, where’s the data chip?” Hannah asked, her fingers hovering over Leia’s nylon-clad feet menacingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” spat Leia, staring Hannah in the eye.

“Oh, really?” Hannah asked, eyebrows raised. “Perhaps some tickle torture will jog your memory.”

Hannah had to admit, the tickle-torturer in her was happy at Leia’s defiance, though the professional in her knew she was on the clock. It was time to step up her game. She scraped her nails roughly up and down Leia’s smooth nylon-clad soles, trying to see if she could drive the royal Princess into hysterical giggles. Hannah could see from the fire in Leia’s eyes that this would be more than a simple interrogation – this would be a battle of wills. And this would be the first skirmish. If Leia could bite back the laughter enough to continue her (ultimately futile, but Leia did not know that) shouts she would hold the upper-hand, and if Hannah succeeded in coaxing enough laughter that her words were drowned in a flood of laughter, then Hannah would have the upper-hand. It was all about establishing dominance. And Hannah did not intend to lose.

Hannah’s fingers skittered up and down Leia’s buttery-soft soles, delighted at how easy it was to sweep her nails from heel to toe in one easy motion. Leia’s feet flapped and wiggled, but they were noticeably starting to slow down as fatigue caught up to them. They had been tickled extensively for quite some time now, and Hannah did not fail to notice how the Princess’s hearty laughter was becoming more and more ragged the more Hannah teased and stroked along the ticklish flesh.

Leia did not want to admit it to herself, but she knew she was nearing her limit. Her feet had shaken wildly, at first, but now they were laying motionless, easily targets for the relentlessly tickling as Leia began to run out of energy and was forced to simply lie there and laugh. She had never undergone such a prolonged torment before, and she did not know how she could survive seven more hours of this. She could only put up a token resistance now, as instead of getting used to the tickling it actually felt like her feet were getting more and more ticklish by the moment! It took all the energy she had to merely endure the tickling without breaking down and surrendering. Even her hyper-ticklish toes had succumbed to the torture and resigned themselves to simply twitching lightly every now and then.

She closed her eyes, and tried to picture all the downtrodden citizens of the Outer Rim who were counting on her to bring them justice, but all Leia could see was her grinning blonde tormentress wiggling her long fingernails in front of her helplessly ticklish feet.

Leia couldn’t believe it, but she almost wished her captor would go back to the toe-teasing that had been driving her insane only minutes ago. She was assaulting Leia’s feet with long, sweeping strokes now, brushing her foot from heel to toe with each swipe, taking care to press extra-hard with her nails as she passed the soft spots along her high arches and along the pads of her toes. Leia’s attempts to deter her sweeps by scrunching her toes only amused her captor. Her captor would always respond by giggling at Leia’s display, and using her index fingers to make an attempt to trace out every wrinkle in her sole till Leia’s toes flailed in ticklish agony.

“It’s so cute when you wrinkle your toes up,” she would coo, as she followed the contours of the wrinkles, one wrinkle at a time. “I could do this all day… and I just might, hehe…” All Leia could do was grit her teeth and try not to howl with laughter as her blonde captor attempted to trace every single ticklish wrinkle in her soles.

Yet when her sole was being raked up and down in earnest, Leia found herself yearning for the wrinkle-teasing as she roared with laughter as her foe would rake her nails down her smooth soles, quickly scribble back up, and then rinse and repeat.

“I have to say, Princess, nylons and feet as ticklish as yours do not mix,” Hannah smirked, illustrating her point by scribbling her nails across the ball of the foot and scratching along the base of the toes. “But then again, even without them I doubt these pampered pretty things would have stood much of a chance.”

As ticklish tears of laughter streamed down her face, Leia was dimly aware that the tickling had finally ceased.

"You’re proud of yourself for holding out, aren’t you, Princess? Well, don't be smug just yet, my ticklish little captive. In five minutes, you'll have two choices. You can tell me where you hid the data chip, and promise to drop the Senate motion, and that will be the end of it. No more tickling on those poor tootsies of yours,” her blonde captor said, giving Leia’s abused feet a deceptively relaxing massage.

“Or… you can refuse. But if you refuse, you won't get another chance to talk for a very long time. I’ll treat you to three full hours of non-stop tickling. Even if you beg to tell me where you hid the data chip, you and your ticklish nyloned feet won’t get a break till those three hours are up. If you're still sane at the end of that, then maybe you'll have a chance to talk. Think about it, Senator Organa. Is one silly little Senate motion worth three hours of tickle torture? The choice is yours. I’ll give you five minutes to mull it over," she said, with a grin as her soothing massage fingers turned into marauding tickling fingers.

Leia had made her mind up by two minutes in, just as her grinning blonde captor discovered a mind-meltingly soft-spot underneath the ball of her feet. She was ashamed at herself, but she knew she couldn’t hold out for three more hours of this. She would surely die. It was too much. It was just too much.

It was the longest five minutes of her life, as her former housemaid expertly tormented every inch of her soles. She was now very well acquainted with Leia’s nyloned soles, and knew every spot to make her scream. The proud Princess Leia Organa was reduced to begging as slow, raking lines made their way from top to bottom, starting at the top again after each pass.

Princess Leia Organa lay there, panting and breathless, her chestnut-brown hair a mess, her beautiful white robes moist with sweat and her complexion clouded as she betrayed those who had believed in her, opening her vault and giving away the data chip that would have brought justice to those Czerka Corporation had wronged.

To add insult to injury, Hannah Chase had one more thing to say before she left. “Oh, and in case you were considering double-crossing us… Our little session was recorded,” Hannah said, tapping her camera. “I bet a tough girl like yourself doesn’t want the entire galaxy to see just how… sensitive you are, right?”

“I’m sure there are a lot of people out there who would love to know how the mighty Princess Leia Organa has such an embarrassing weakness,” Hannah cooed, tracing a figure eight around Leia’s soles. “So keep that in mind… unless you want to find yourself in this kind of vulnerable position again…”

Leia watched her housemaid leave her room, acting innocently. She was still tied up. The Princess sighed, filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. She would be stuck in this room for another hour till the servants came to check on her, and she knew by then her tormentress would be long gone, likely on a spaceship bound for Nar Shaddaa or some other hovel where the scum of the galaxy congregated. She shuddered if word spread about how ticklish she was, and what would happen to her if her enemies found out about her weakness.

I have a bad feeling about this.