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Rogue One TK: Jyn Erso

oneortheother

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Rogue One TK: Jyn Erso

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If you’re following the movie, this story takes place at the start of the movie, prior to Jyn’s breakout by rebel forces.

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“So, ‘Liana Hallik’, though I have serious reservations that is your true identity,” said the silver-haired woman clad in a black imperial uniform, “do you wish to say anything before your interrogation?”

“Only that you’ll get nothing from me,” Jyn Erso said to the officer. Her green eyes glared at the woman. Jyn’s heart was hammering hard in her chest, and she could feel a tingle throughout her body, but she tried not to let her fear show. At Imperial Detention Centers like this one, showing you were afraid was a very, very bad idea. Yet it was difficult to not be afraid when she had been stripped of the paltry prison uniform and she was now in nothing but undergarments. Jyn’s arms were shackled by chains which extended down from the ceiling, and her bare feet were fixed into a pair of steel stockades.

The interrogation room was lit by a powerful overhead light which turned everything into black shadows and piercingly bright whiteness to create a striking Chiaroscuro effect. Under this brightness, the imperial officer’s hair glowed a cold, ghostly silver as she paced the room. The room was sparse aside from the chair Jyn was tied in, a stool for the interrogator, and a metal tray of strange tools placed on a small plastic table.

“Is that so?” the imperial inquisitor played with her long hair, which was slung back in a ponytail. She picked up a datapad and read aloud, “Forgery of Imperial documents, aggravated assault against Imperial personnel, escape from custody, resisting arrest, shipjacking, possession of unsanctioned weapons, unlawful conduct with undesirables, petty theft, creating a public nuisance, and disorderly conduct.” She put down the datapad and chuckled. “And it looks like you can’t be more than twenty standard years old.”

“I’ve kept busy,” Jyn said, blowing a strand of brown hair out of her face. She tried to wiggle in the rusted metal stocks. The ankle holes were lined with something soft to prevent chaffing, but they also kept her from being able to move her feet very far, and they were too far away from each other to touch.

“I can see that,” the interrogator said. “And you’ll be busy laughing soon.”

Laughing? Jyn thought, while the officer walked over to the tray. The older woman hummed to herself as she picked up various tools and examined them. Jyn had heard screaming coming from the other inmates when they had been hauled to this interrogation room, but she could never have imagined the torment would be something quite like this. She supposed it made a kind of twisted sense from the ruthlessly pragmatic Empire. This was the Wobani Labor Camp—all the prisoners couldn’t be ‘damaged’ in a way that left them physically or mentally worthless for whatever menial task they had to do, in which case tickle torture made perfect sense. That being said, it still struck her as something juvenile, something childish, something like what well-meaning parents might tell their children hell was like to give them a tale that was scary but not so terrifying it traumatised them.

The first tool in the interrogator’s hand was one which looked like it had absolutely zero possibly potential as a tickling device. It was a syringe filled with a clear liquid. The interrogator jabbed it into Jyn’s right bicep.

“Just a little something to heighten sensitivity,” the interrogator said, answering Jyn’s unasked question. “Would be a shame if you weren’t ticklish, no?”

“A real big shame,” Jyn said in a dry voice, but her defiance was simply another attempt to conceal her spreading trepidation. Her nerves were beginning to prickle up alarmingly quickly. She felt goosebumps along her pale white skin as she suddenly became so aware of the cool air of the room.

“Still so testy,” the imperial inquisitor said. “Let’s see how long that lasts.” She picked up one of the small electric brushes usually used for dental hygiene. “Remember, if you want this to stop, all you need to do is start by giving us information on all your contacts.”

The electric toothbrush made a buzzing sound as the interrogator made her way to where Jyn’s bare feet were stocked. They were small and in perfect proportion to her slight frame, with chips of black nail polish on the toes.

“Let’s see if we can find some answers with this, shall we?” the officer said, and she pulled back the toes of one petite foot and brought the toothbrush close to them. Jyn’s free foot wiggled and jerked about, but the other foot was trapped in the woman’s iron grip. Try as she might, Jyn couldn’t shake it free as the electric toothbrush pressed into her sensitive digits.

Jyn threw her head back and gnashed her teeth together as the woman chuckled and began to scrub away at the base of the small toes. Laughter was already beginning to spill out of her lips, harsh wailing laughter mixed in with grunts, gasps, and groans.

She had never imagined herself as possibly being nearly as ticklish as this. Damn, what had been in that serum? She was left with little mental capacity to contemplate such questions, however, as the stem and pad of her big toes were the next to feel the merciless whirling toothbrush’s attentions. After both big toes had been attacked, the humming interrogator went through the rest of the toes and then the arches, enthusiastically cleaning around every little sensitive fold and niche.

“Have you changed your mind yet?” the officer said, pulling the toothbrush off.

Jyn panted for breath. Her chest rose up and down with each breath, and she could already feel herself perspiring. She was sure her short brown hair was a great deal messier than it had been moments ago. She stared at the silver-haired woman, stared at that lined face, at those cold blue eyes, and then her eyes darted back to the electric toothbrush. Jyn shook her head.

“I’d have thought you were smarter. All I want is information about the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Tell me everything you know about those rebels, and you’ll be free to go.”

“What if I told you I knew nothing about them?”

“I would say I find that impossible to believe.”

Jyn sighed. “Then I’ve got nothing I can say to you.”

“Suit yourself.” The officer put down the electric toothbrush and picked up an aerosol spray—it was the sort of spray you sometimes saw for hand sanitation to prevent disease. “I’ll be getting your upper body next, but I wouldn’t want these pretty feet of yours to feel like they’re missing out on the fun.”

A few sprays later, and both of Jyn’s soles were glistening with some kind of clear fluid. Whatever this liquid was, both feet were drenched in the stuff now. She shivered as the air-conditioned room left her feet feeling frigid. But this cool feeling did not last long. Moments later, both feet were aflame with a new sensation, one which rivalled the toothbrush in its torment.

The brown-haired girl yelped and grunted as her feet rapidly came to grips with the burning, tingling feeling that was swarming over them. They itched—no, that was an understatement. They were agony, a mind-numbing, skull-splitting discomfort that spread up her legs to scream up to her brain to get that stuff off. It was an itching, irritating sort of tickle that made Jyn shudder and want to squeal. Her petite feet flexed and kicked as far as they could in the metal stocks, which was not very far at all. Curling and splaying her toes in quick succession seemed to achieve little, and with her feet situated far away from each other, they couldn’t even reach over to rub one foot with its twin.

To make matters even worse, every inch of her soles, every toe, even the tops had been sprayed by that foul liquid, and that dastardly woman knew had bad it would be, that was why she had been so meticulous in coating everywhere with that spray.

“What’s wrong? Itchy feet?” the interrogator asked in a cool voice that was a mockery of innocence. “Want me to give them a scratch? What will you give me in exchange? Let’s make a deal, shall we? All I want are your secrets.” When Jyn did not reply, the woman shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll help you take your mind off things, then.”

Jyn’s eyes were scrunched shut to try to take her mind off the ungodly stimuli bombarding her small feet, but they flew open when she heard the soft buzz of a familiar toothbrush seconds before it plummeted into her navel. Deep belly laughter exploded out of her, so unlike the staccato hisses and giggles from before. An attack on two fronts was far too much, especially with the innumerable bristles of the electric toothbrush whirling away.

“Nohohohoho! Stahahahap!” Jyn wailed, shaking her head from side to side and rattling the manacles that held her arms up to the ceiling. The brush relented, no longer teasing the belly button, but it was only so it could scrub little circles around that sensitive little nook.

“You know what you need to give me if you want it to stop,” the woman said. She began moving the brush to the sides as well. Jyn’s abdomen was toned and strong from her active lifestyle as smuggler, and petty criminal, but having prominent abs provided little protection against such ruthless bristles. Right now, they served as good targets for the toothbrush to trace over, again and again. Sides, ribs, and belly—no spots were spared from those bristles.

Despite quickly feeling as if every laugh had been torn from her, soon enough, Jyn found a reservoir for more laughter and more frantic struggles when the silver-haired officer procured a second electric toothbrush. One toothbrush stayed at Jyn’s navel, dipping inside to tease the edges, corkscrewing inside, and slowly spinning all over it. The other brush was more explorative, darting down to harass the hipbones, circling along the ribcage, and tapping and prodding along the quivering sides. Every now and again, both toothbrushes would buzz on alternating sides of the belly to induce powerful squeals from the brown-haired girl.

And while all this was happening, the flaming, scalding sensations at her feet continued unabated—two distinctly different flavours of a torturous tonic Jyn was forced to gulp down.

“I like the noises you’re making,” the imperial woman said. “You have a cute laugh.”

More pathetic yowling and begs began to slip pass Jyn’s lips faster than she could yank them away. Stop the tickling, scratch her feet, spare her tummy… she hung her head and willed herself to keep quiet. She had always thought of herself as being the kind of person who would never cooperate, would never imagine herself be willing to degrade herself in exchange for parole or favours. Yet here she was—enflamed, itching feet and electric toothbrushes probing all over her toned, hyper-ticklish tErso.

The silver-haired officer pulled back and let Jyn giggle and writhe from the residual sensations. She hovered the toothbrushes over Jyn’s wiggling feet. “Want me to tickle them?” she asked.

Jyn nodded. Anything would help to dispel those accursed itching sensations. Anything. Even that.

“Too bad.” In a flash, the evil woman was at Jyn’s armpits, and she pressed those diabolical electric toothbrushes hard into them. Throwing her head back, Jyn shrieked as the new ticklish sensations began pouring out of her sensitive underarms. She tried to yank her arms down, but the metal chains that descended from the ceiling were as implacable as ever, and straining her muscles only brought a new ache to the equation (and there were plenty of those already) and a trickle of perspiration down her face.

The toothbrushes worked in her taut, extended armpits for an eternity, while her feet continued to tingle alongside them. Jyn had shouted herself hoarse during this point. Finally, she heard the familiar click as the electric toothbrushes turned themselves off. Another clatter was heard as those cruel devices were returned to the tray.

“You… you giving up?” Jyn asked.

“Of sorts. It’s my break.”

“Break? “I didn’t know you people had those.”

“You people?” She chortled. The silver haired woman had clear, refined laugh. “No matter the manner of our work, we are employees. We have rights. We have a union. We have medical insurance.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Good.” The silver-haired woman reached for the spray that was still causing such itching anguish on Jyn’s poor feet. The officer sprayed it generously into the soft flesh of Jyn’s armpits and midsection, taking care the belly button in particular was coated in it.

Her jaw dropped. “You monster.” Jyn could feel the skin already started to tingle. Before long, it would be as bad as the excruciating itching on her feet.

“Just doing my job,” the imperial torturer said, shrugging. She used her bare fingers to really rub in the unbearable liquid, before using a rag to ensure none of the liquid remained on her own skin. The woman left, and Jyn screamed, alone with the itching, tickling sensations ravaging across her overheating body.

It might have been thirty minutes or thirty hours, Jyn wasn’t sure, but when the silver-haired officer returned, Jyn hung limply in her bonds. Some of the liquid sprayed across her armpits had trickled down along her thighs to form maddeningly itch lines along the hem of her panties.

“Ready for me to wash that stuff off?” The woman was chewing something in her mouth as she spoke, with an airy nonchalance that made anger bubble inside Jyn. The woman walked over the tray and began fiddling around with something that Jyn couldn’t quite make out.

Jyn growled at the woman and muttered under her breath, but this proved to be the wrong answer. In a flash, there were hands wiggling into her armpits, and now just any hands—these hands were soft and furry and feathery all at once. They were the talons of some outlandish avian, and they scampered and dug furiously into the taut and trapped underarms.

She should have been grateful. Her itching body was finally getting the scratching it had yearned for, but it was wrong, oh, so wrong. Those fuzzy fingers weren’t getting rid of the sensation—they were spreading it around! The sheen of the itching liquid remained on those wicked fingers, and considering those fingers were tunnelling along happily into her armpits, the itching sensation remained. Scratch, relief, tickle, giggle, itch, and it repeated. No sooner had a spot been scratched did it soon yearn for another touch.

And even as Jyn shrieked with laughter at the nails toying with her soft and slick underarms, the rest of her body was envious as the tingling, itching, tickly sensations continued unabated. Gratitude and agony embraced when those fingers finally moved on from Jyn’s armpits to assault her sides and ribcage.

She was a giggling mess when those devilishly heavenly hands trailed lower to torment her stomach. When one finger slipped into navel to twirl around, Jyn shouted and whooped with laughter that sounded like it was coming from someone else, for it sounded so unlike her.

At the feet, which had been in itchy, tingly hell for the longest time, Jyn almost wept when her torturer grinned and reached for the spray again. Jyn screamed at her to stop, screamed no, but that didn’t stop the tingling spray from covering her armpits, stomach, and sides with a fresh batch of that horribly powdery fluid. All the sensations that had just started to fade began to rear back up as the evil, cruel woman sat down on front of Jyn’s pale scrunched up feet.

She cracked her knuckles and really made Jyn howl. Her feet were her worst spot, Jyn soon realised, and this was knowledge that had been so painfully earned. As bad as the electric toothbrushes at her feet had been, the silver-haired woman’s precise fingers found a way to be even worse.

The danced all over the feet, scampering and flying from spot to spot, focusing on all the areas that the toothbrushes had earlier demonstrated were vulnerable. When those furry, fluffy fingers were not drawing long lines up and down her arches, they were sneaking under and between her toes. And of course, every touch meant the itching substance on her feet spread out even more, causing Jyn’s feet to flare with fresh sensations.

Jyn tried to take her mind off things by deliberating on which spot on her hellishly receptive feet was worst, and she eventually settled on the undersides of her toes. They tickled about as much as her high arches, truth be told, but her gaps between her toes had been mostly spared from the itching spray because of her propensity to scrunch them. Yet when those malevolent fingers nailed those spots between her tender digits, there was no way to prevent the itchy trail they left behind. Curling her toes did not good, for the officer would simply shift her attack to the arches till the toes got too tired to remain tense and reluctantly sprang open.

“Whenever you feel like stopping, do let me know,” the silver-haired villain said in her cool, calm voice as her fingers continued scratching away. “Or you can keep on laughing. The choice is up to you. This will continue, you know, every day till you are cooperative. You might be spending time with my colleagues instead of me, but I promise it will be every bit as bad. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk?”

As Jyn laughed and squealed, she tried to push thoughts of capitulation from her mind. She had to endure, had to persevere, at least for another day… another day brought infinite possibilities, infinite change.

Things could change so much in a day. Maybe tomorrow there would be a new hope, a new, beautiful hope.
 
I liked the "just my job to be ruthless" attitude and the itching spray. Nice.


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