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BTVS Fan Fic - Faith Brought To Justice

tklr5150

1st Level Orange Feather
Joined
Apr 3, 2001
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BTVS Fan Fic - Faith Brought To Justice - starring Eliza Dushku

They called it a routine prisoner transfer. A combination of her good behavior over a period of months and a dismally over-crowded penal system meant that she was going to be sent to a minimum security prison nearby to make room for more dangerous offenders.

She chuckled to herself when they told her that part. "More dangerous offenders." Yeah, right. There was no way. The most vicious, brutal psychopath in L.A. could never be more dangerous than a Slayer.

But she did have to concede that she wasn't nearly as great a threat -- at least, not as great as she once was, not too long ago. Once upon a time, even a maximum security joint wouldn't have been able to hold her if she didn't want to be held. She had no intention of escaping right now, though. She was here because she had to be -- for her own sake, if no one else's. When she was ready, she could take off with ease, and with a minimum of force.

Until then, she would pay her "debt to society." Mostly she would get herself back on track. There was more to being the Chosen One -- well, a Chosen One -- than just getting kicks fighting nasties in dark alleys. She had lost sight of that. It had taken her experience in Buffy's body to rekindle the feeling of having purpose, and of having people caring for her. Of course, the Mayor had cared, but . . .

No. She shook it off. Couldn't think that way. Too much shit to deal with. With Angel's help, she'd gotten past that, and as much as she hated to admit it --

Wait.

Something didn't seem right here.

The guards leading her out to the lot, nudging her in the back of the van. The van itself, not exactly looking like LA County corrections department regulars. Her instincts were buzzing.

"Get in there," one guard barked, giving her a shove. A little gruff for a prisoner going along peacefully, but more unsettling was his tone was his accent. He was British.

"What is th --" she started to say -- and then she felt the needle prick her arm, courtesy of one of the guards waiting in the van. She tried to react, but was barely able to get a look at the guy, let alone pull away, before whatever he shot her full of kicked in. Her stomach did a cartwheel, and black clouds filled her eyes. And then she was out.

***********

She woke up only once. For only a few moments. Though nearly numb, she could tell she was flat on her back, held down with metal straps across her body. She was able to roll her head to one side just enough to catch a glimpse out a small window, where she saw only sky. Plane. One way to England no doubt.

"She's up," she heard in one ear, from a million miles away. "Better give her another dose."

She tried to struggle but couldn't move anything below her neck. Someone dressed in black appeared over her, and that was the last thing she saw for hours.

***********

The nauseau was the first thing that struck her when she came to again. She felt like she would throw up inside her own mouth. It took a few moments for the fog to leave her eyes, and the feeling to return to her body. The whole feeling-like-shit thing did not pass quite so quickly.

I'm gonna kill these fucks, she thought. I'm gonna rip their sacs off and snap their necks.

Of course, she'd have to get out of these restraints first. She was on some sort of table, arms stretched over her head, again secured with metal straps, across her wrists, forearms, waist, knees, and ankles. And they were strong -- built to hold someone with Slayer strength, obviously. The sickos has also taken the liberty of relieving her of her prison jumpsuit, leaving her in just her skimpy black bra and panties. How many of them were there? When she was able to move her neck, she tried to crane her head up, look around. All she could make out was that she was in some sort of wherehouse, a dark, cavernous, abandoned place. Perfect site for the Council's goons to conduct some of their more sordid business.

"Hello, Faith."

She couldn't see who said it. Didn't matter. She knew who they were, why they'd brought her here, what they were planning to do with her.

"I hope you're comfortable."

"Actually, could you make 'em a little tighter," Faith replied sarcastically. "If we're gonna play bondage games, we might as well play them right."

The man scoffed, took a few steps towards her slowly, letting her hear each footfall.

"Be honest with ya, I didn't know you Brits had it in you to be so kinky. So, what sort of fun you got in store for me?"

"A great deal." Now he was standing right over her, looking down directly at her face. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Uh, let's see . . . cause the Watchers' Council are a bunch of grudge-holding tight-assed little bitches who can't take a joke?"

"Always the smart mouth, eh Faith."

She shot him a sultry look. "Wanna know what kinda mouth I've got, unchain me and I'll show you."

He smiled, paced away. "Your tricks won't work, I'm afraid. Nor will your attempts to break free. We know exactly the measure of Slayer strength, so rest assured your bonds are strong enough to withstand it."

"Then you also know how extremely I can kill you once I do get free," she shot back. She wasn't about to let these prigs shake her up. They might have known Slayers, but they had no idea who they were dealing with.

"IF we do decide to let you go, believe me, you'll never see any of us again. And if you do, it will once again be in a situation where such threats won't carry much weight."

"Remind me to be scared later."

She felt some more strength returning, and raised her head to try and see more of her surroundings. Looked like two more guys, sitting on a couple of crates further back, not doing much. One of them might have had some sort of case.

"As entertaining as this is, Faith, we're really not here to banter," the man circling the table said. "What we are here for is to mete out punishment. Your actions, dating back to February of 1999, have consistently displayed a grievous abuse of your power as Slayer, as well as a disregard for your sacred duty. You have aligned yourself with evil forces, endangered the lives of civilians as well as that of your fellow Slayer, Ms. Summers. Furthermore, you have never shown the proper respect to this Council, or to any of the Watchers in whose charge you've been, and have generally acted as a rogue."

"Yeah, and then I turned myself in. Or are you forgetting that part? Does the word 'rehabilitation' mean anything to you fucks?"

"That may be all well and good for civilians. But as as Chosen One, you subscribe to a different authority, whether you like it or not. Therefore, for these crimes you are to be punished in a manner determined by the Watchers' Council of Britain."

Faith chuckled, bitter, disbelieving, unafraid. "All right. Torture, right. Whaddya got? Warning ya, you'll be surprised how much I can stand. Hell, you'll be surprised how much I might actually enjoy."

"Give us some credit. We know better than anyone the degree to which a Slayer can resist pain that would drive an ordinary person beyond their limits. We also know how to best exploit your inherent strengths -- and turn them into weaknesses."

Faith rolled her eyes. Was this guy for real? "Well I'm quaking in my bonds now. Is this the big torture? Talking till my ears bleed?"

The man stopped circling, hovered over her body, flexed his fingers. "As you well know, Faith, heightened senses are part of the Slayer package. Sight, hearing, touch -- all much more receptive to various stimuli. And while your tolerance for pain is indeed quite remarkable, there are other physical sensations against which you're not only defenseless, but actually more vulnerable than an average girl."

She wasn't frightened -- more intrigued. She continued to furtively pull and push against the metal straps holding her down, testing for weaknesses. She was startled by the sudden touch of the Watchers' goon closing his hands around her naked ribcage.

"What, figured you'd have a little fun before you get down to business?" she said. "Makes sense. Only way you probably get any action is when they can't get away, right?"

A thin, malicious grin was his only reply. Then he started to move his fingers around, massaging her ribs delicately. Faith laughed -- a mocking laugh. "You're joking right? Is this supposed to tickle? Some torture!"

The goon didn't answer. He massaged a little faster.

"Go on, get your rocks off," Faith said. "Cop a nice touch, that's all you'll get out of it."

"Big tough Slayer's not ticklish, I suppose."

"Don't see me laughing, do ya?"

"Just wait."

Faith relaxed. If this was all they had up their sleeves, she'd have no problem. Sooner or later she'd snap these straps and then . . . God, she was itching for a good kill. It'd been way too long.

He continued to wiggle his fingers along the length of her ribcage, barely moving his hands at all. "Could you do that a little lower?" Faith jibed. He ignored her. Just kept up his tickling, rhythmically, ardently. It was beginning to get irritating.

Fifteen or twenty minutes in, it was officially a lot irritating. "Persistent little pervert, aren't ya," she said, trying not to let on. She feigned a yawn.

That was followed by a yelp -- a real one. The guy's thumb had slipped, grazing a spot just underneath her left breast. She shut her mouth quickly.

But he had noticed, and with a grin he slid his thumb over the same spot. Faith kept her cool this time, but as he continued to stroke that little spot of skin, back and forth, she was finding herself having to fight off another yelp. She did pretty well, too. Until he slipped his finger under her bra, and with one quick yank tore it off her chest, spilling her ample breasts.

"I knew it," Faith snickered. "This is extracurricular, ain't it. Feel up the pretty young thing. Come on, what's the real punishment?"

Again, no reply, save for the touch of his fingertips grazing the undersides of her breasts, four on each. This sent a shockwave through Faith's body. It'd always been an extremely sensitive area, but always in a good way. She'd never been touched here like this before. Tickled. God, it tickled! She could feel her breath turning into laughter inside her throat.

She sucked it up, clenched her mouth shut. She wasn't about to give this bastard the satisfaction. His fingers continued to tease her there, faster as he noticed her chest vibrating with restrained bursts. As best as she fought it, he could tell he was provoking a reaction.

A few snickers escaped her sealed lips. Goddammit, no! she told herself. I am NOT giving in to THIS! I won't let myself be tickled like some fucking child.

It was becoming harder to resist though. Her breasts were tingling throughout, maddening. The goon was right: every sensation seemed impossibly amplified. She shut her eyes, snickered and snorted, spasmed. Fuck, it was tickling so bad! If she could hold out a little while longer . . .

"Mmphhhhhhh stop!!" she cried, totally against her will, and instantly seized up again. Detecting weakness, the man suddenly dug his fingers into her upper ribs, still stroking under her breasts with his thumbs. Faith thrashed, banged her head against the table. Stifled giggles and a few tears leaked out of her. She was about to break, she could feel it. God, make him stop make him stop NOW!

He didn't. He stepped up his assault, wiggling his index fingers in her armpits as the other three fingers on each hand tickled her ribs and his thumbs continued stroking her breasts. It was too much at once. Faith burst, with a peel of laughter that rang off every wall in the massive cement building. "Aaaaaaaahahahahahahahahaha noo ahahahaha!!!"

She was tickled in this way for half an hour solid, her laughter unbroken for nearly as long. At last he paused, only to look at smarmily and ask, "So, Slayer. How are you feeling?"

Faith took only a few seconds to collect her breath. She looked back at him, determination etched in her face, and retorted, "Five-by-five."

"Glad to hear that. Because we're just beginning." With that he motioned to the other two men, who had previously just been watching. A moment later, Faith felt twenty fingers attack her bare feet, five each on the tops and bottoms. She jerked initially, quickly tensed her legs and feet. She refused to squirm. She could take it.

The head goon didn't touch her. He watched, sickly amused, as she fought off the ticklish sensations shooting up from her soles to her brain. No doubt the prick was getting off on it. Fuck him. She'd cracked once, but she wouldn't again. She gritted her teeth and controlled her breathing. She would not be driven to so much as accelerated breathing, nor would she hold her breath entirely. She would remain unaffected, even as the men at her feet began scratching underneath and in between her toes.

FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck!! Get a hold of yourself Faith! It doesn't tickle that bad.

Yes it does!
another part of her brain screamed. What're you, fucking stoned? Snap these bonds already and snap their necks!

Except the bonds were already more than she could handle at full strength. The tickling was making her weaker. Her only chance was to resist, and hope they gave up soon. Very soon.

The head goon walked away for a moment, over to the case one of the others had been carrying. He kneeled, opened it, removed some items, went over and gave a couple of them to the men at her feet. Toys, no doubt. Faith took the brief reprieve as a chance to redouble her resolve.

She could take it. She could take anything. She was a Slayer for Chrissakes. No one in the world had her strength. She would not be broken by something so pathetic, so infantile. She could take it. Yes should could.

Her efforts were without merit, though. As soon as she detected the tips of what felt like some sort of brushes on her arches, and then another one tracing around her breasts, she fell apart. "AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAA stop stop stop no PLEEEEAASSE!!!!!!! Faith screamed.

They only tickled faster, soft bristles whispering over her flesh. The man at her torso dropped the brush after a while and returned to dancing his fingers over the sides of her full, sensitive breasts. Three continuous hours of this had Faith exhausted, sore, and near tears.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Faith?" He stopped for a moment, held up a hand to the others, who stopped as well. He waited for an answer.

Faith gasped, sucked in oxygen while she had the chance. Then she glared at him defiantly, and spit right in his eye.

Naturally, he was not amused. He wiped his face, and with a malice no longer hidden by cocky taunting, drilled his fingers into her waist, prodding her sides and vibrating her hipbone. Faith exploded, crashing her head back against the table, spasming against the solid metal holding her in place. "AIIIIIIEEEEEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!!!!!!!" she cried. She tried to make words but couldn't.

The others resumed tickling her feet, but that was nothing compared to the fingers scratching and squirming over her stomach. His nails traced every contour of her rock-hard abs and dug ferociously into her tender waist. Faith was in sheer agony inside of a minute. By the fourth hour she was slamming her head into the table hard, trying to knock herself unconscious.

Four more hours passed before they stopped. For good, this time, it seemed. Two of them packed up the case and strode out without a word. Faith lay limp, sapped of every drop of energy. Through a dry, hoarse mouth she spoke, "Let me go . . . please . . ."

The third man, who had been leading her torture for over eight hours now, just started walking away. Faith struggled, wanted to cry. She tried to call after him but hadn't the voice.

When the footsteps ceased, she had a brief glimpse of hope. Maybe he'd had a change of heart. Maybe he would release her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said. "The full order of punishment from the Watchers' Council is as follows. The Slayer is to be tortured by means of tickling in eight-hour shifts, interrupted only for brief food and water breaks to last no longer than fifteen minutes in between shifts, continuing for a period of three days. The man with your food and water should be arriving momentarily. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
 
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Nice job, 5150! I liked the humor interlaced throughout the story, and the writing was superb.:cool:
 
T5150,

Wow--well done, friend, well done. Very great set up and an even better psychological treatment of the amazing ticklee. She is one of my favs--in fact, "feetclimax" and I have been working for several weeks on a Faith/Buffy story of our own!! Might have to rethink our publication date now ;)

Two very small critiques: (1) I had a hard time with Faith banging her head so hard against that table--damn, that's gotta hurt. It distracted me from the enjoyable tickling. (2) Even fantasy has it's limits, no? They kept up the tickling for eight straight hours, no breaks??!! I know time flies when you are having fun, but...

In conclusion, thank you also for the super job you did describing her valiant attempts to resist laughing! Excellent! Overall, top-quality work, IMO.

dig dug dog
 
Ah, but 3D, you're forgetting that a Slayer's resistance level to pain is much greater than a normal person's, and pain is something she'd be able to deal with if it managed to overwhelm the tickling. And what can I say . . . those Watchers are strict disciplinarians . . . I think it's the British thing ;)

Glad you guys have enjoyed it otherwise!
 
tklr 5150...

Though, I'm not a BTVS fan, I did like your story a lot. It was well-written and deliciously intense.

BTW,a note to dig dug dog...

3D, what happen to the project that we were working on together. :sowrong: Don't tell me you've been collaborating with another tickling author behind my back. LOL:blaugh:

Just teasing.:D
 
Hey Rock--

I have not forgotten your proposal! In fact, I just recently saw Tomb Raider and it gave me more to go on...I'll drop you an e-mail soon.

dig dug
 
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:)

it's about time someone worked through the BTVS girls! <eg> Very well done and a great choice in ticklees!
 
it's been a while

its been a while since i read this but, god if only there was a number two! you up to it tklr5150
 
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