The-Tickling-Master
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Hello! I'm a deviantart fetish writer.
A commissioner of mine asked me to post my stories here. I initially gave him the permission, but then change my mind - why ask the poor guy to do it when I can do it myself?
This is why this thread has a duplicate, that can be found here: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?285650-Star-Wars-Losing-Hope-(Jyn-Erso-Tickling-Story) . If the mods could delete the old thread, I'd be very thankful, and sorry for the trouble and confusion.
Nonetheless, here is the full 2-part story, for your enjoyment.
I take commissions! If you want to commission me a story, please contact me THROUGH DA. My profile is: http://the-tickling-master.deviantart.com/gallery/
Feedback is greatly appreciated. If you liked (And especially if you disliked) the story, leave a comment!
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Her heart rushed. Sweat running down her forehead. Behind, she left the corpse of a friend. Ahead, the only thing that matters – the mission. They all knew death could be waiting – though, deep inside, there was the hope of getting away even after all this mess. Hope is all they ever had, after all. Rebellions are built on hope.
She needed to redirect the antenna in order to send the plans of the Death Star to the rebellion. If she could do that, they had won – nothing after that would matter. Capture, torture or execution, nothing would matter – she would have assured her father’s revenge. The seeds of rebellion he planted on the Death Star would bear fruits, grow into a mighty tree that would destroy the Empire!
She had that hope. Hope was all she had.
She arrived at the panel, the tension apparent on her face. She typed quickly the necessary commands, and with a loud noise, the antenna begun to spin into place. All she needed now was to go back to the center of the tower, a few feet away. A single rush through the precarious footing she currently was and she would be there. Then she would win, they would all win, and all the lives lost today would have been worthy. She had that hope. Hope was all she had
Her hope was crushed with a single sound – a “pew” among a sea of “pew”s, the most important of all “pew”s shot on that day. Krennic managed to catch up before she could return to the main computer to upload the files. Krennic had lost much time that day with theatrics – not now. A single shot, straight to the head, with precision honed by decades on the Empire’s military. On stun, of course, not on kill – that girl could be a very valuable prisoner.
And with that, hope was lost, and Jyn Erso didn’t even realize, knocked out cold as she was. This fortunately spared her of seeing all the death and destruction caused by the Empire on the rebel forces as they pointlessly awaited the plans. They stayed in the fight way past what common sense would dictate. They bet more than they could afford to lose, and then they lost it all.
Because they had hope. And now, they couldn’t have even that. What little remained of the fleet retreated when it was painfully obvious that Jyn and her teammates had failed. They would surely be all dead by now.
And, except for the girl herself, they were. Jyn, still unconscious – this time through sedatives - was taken from the planet to somewhere else: Coruscant, the Imperial Center, hearth of the Empire and home of Palpatine. There, she was taken to the deepest levels of the Emperor’s castle, where the most vital prisoners of war suffered indescribable torment through interrogation or just torture for the sake of torture.
When Jyn awoke, it was in an entirely different environment. She looked around, still dazed, her instincts urging her to rush forward and upload the files. When she tried, however, she realized she was not able to do so – she was restrained to a vertical frame, lightly inclined upwards. She couldn’t see behind her, but she could feel that she was on top of a big machine, instead of a simple vertical table. Each of her limbs was locked into one of the extremities of the device, making her completely exposed, tied in an X. The coldness she was feeling drew attention to the fact she was now undressed, with only her undergarments spared. She then noticed she was no longer atop of the tower at Scarif, within the imperial data bank. Instead, she was in some sort of dungeon – metal ceiling, metal floor, metal walls. Everything was grey. A depressing look.
So, that was it. Captured by the Empire. That meant she was now going to die screaming. It didn’t matter though. Nothing mattered. They bet everything, and they lost. Her torture – and she had no doubt she was about to be tortured – was irrelevant. She was trained for this, from her times with Saw Guerrera. Her paranoid stepfather trained her in all forms of resistance to pain. She was familiar with the mind-games of torture, and knew how to circumvent them. They would get nothing out of her.
And then… She waited. Waited and waited, then waited a little more. Waiting was terrible – the boredom made her mind drift, and it drifted straight to her upcoming ordeal. But she was also familiar with this tactic. Let the tortured do half the job themselves, in their mind. Pain is not the key to a session – fear is. Pain is merely an instrument to induct fear, to create a game of reward and punishment. Those were what broke the interrogated’s mind and made them spill the beans. Not the punch that just hit, but the fear of the next one. She would not allow herself to fall for that trap. Thus, she redirected her mind to somewhere else, when she was a child, and she, her father and her mother still lived a happy life.
She would never forgive the Empire for taking that away from her.
Finally the door slid to the side, as two men entered the room. One was Krennic, still dressed in his impeccable white Grand Admiral suit. The other man was unknown – he wore standard Imperial Army outfit, but also a black mask made of fabric.
- And here we are, dear Rebel. You lost – Taunted Krannic, who now once again had the time for his pompous speeches – The Rebellion was crushed after their foolish attack. All your friends are dead. Right now, the remaining Rebels are certainly cowering in their base, awaiting to be brought to justice like the rats they are!
- I’ll never tell you anything! – Retorted Jyn – I’ll die by your hands, but you will have nothing.
- Oh, we are well aware that you have been trained to resist most forms of torture. Which is why we are employing the services of Mr. Kraus – He said, signaling the masked man. She doubted Kraus was his true name – His craft is quite unique. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. You might even find it funny. Now goodbye – He said, turning his back – I await a report in the morning.
- Sure – Replied the torturer. When Krennic left, Jyn stared the mysterious man.
- I will not… - She started, but was interrupted.
- Shut up. I have to think. I’m not here to interrogate you, I’m here to use you as a test subject.
She stood there – she didn’t have other options -, puzzled. She was not being interrogated? Krennic certainly seemed to believe so.
A test subject? For what, she wondered. As if he could read her mind, the man continued his ramblings.
- You are going to help me test my most recent invention… I based it on the engravings of an extremely ancient race, forgotten by time… No one knows where they’re from or where they are, just some artifacts scattered throughout the galaxy… Nonetheless, based on their design, I created this. I call it “The Embrace of Mirth”.
Embrace of… Mirth? What was that madman rambling about?! He paid no attention to her, typing on a computer on the corner of the room.
Suddenly, the machine started moving. It started reclining forward, until she was facing the floor at an inclination of 45º. From below, she saw a part of the machine slide forward, until it was right below her. It looked like a close metallic box, that finally opened to reveal a bunch of syringes facing her, and other instruments whose purpose she was not aware – rods with round tips, claw-like structures, etc.
Behind her back, she also noticed something strange, as the solid surface behind her back also slid open. She guesses similar instruments also faced her back, or maybe others.
It was an embrace alright. Was she about to experience chemical torture? But what about the Mirth part?
The man once again typed things, and she felt the machine trembling. Something was about to start. She gulped. It was time to face her fate. She would endure it with everything she had. She would die screaming, but loyal. She had that hope.
Hope was all she had.
And yet, she was taken by surprise when, instead of burns and cuts, of pain and suffering, she was met with a different sensation: A gentle squeeze on her hips. Shocked, she buckled forward – or rather, downwards, trying to escape the touch, her brain still not fully processing what she was experiencing, acting completely by instinct. However, she was bound extremely tight, and her buckling was fruitless, merely squirming in place, providing no respite. Another squeeze came, and then a third and fourth and many others in quick succession, and finally Jyn Erson realized what was happening.
She was being tickled.
- WHAHAHAHAHAHAHATT THEHEHEHEHEHEHE FFFUHUHUHUHUHUHUCCKCKCCK!!! – She exclaimed in surprised laughter. Jyn has been a very ticklish girl since childhood. In fact, Saw Guerrera tickled her sometimes as torture training, but never for too long – only stuff like not laughing for two minutes or keeping her arms raised while having her armpits attacked.
Now, she was at the hands of an actual tickling maniac, and she doubted he would stop tickling her in two minutes.
Laughing and squirming, Jyn forced herself to establish enough self-control to look down. She saw cartoonish white hands pinching and squeezing her hips. The hands were on the extremity of a metallic “arm” so to speak, a malleable, retractable metallic appendage, which came from behind her, into the body of the machine that she could not see.
It was exactly the kind of tickling hand a tickling machine from a cartoon would have. Jyn felt extremely silly – and the ticklish feelings didn’t help. There were two of them, tickling her hips on each side.
– STohohOHOHOHpP ThahAHAHAHAhtHTTH!! – She ordered, now able to calm down a bit since the surprise had passed. The man didn’t even acknowledge her furious remark, continuing to type commands and analyzing the screen with joyful intensity, like a father watching his child.
It tickled madly, but not nearly enough to break her. She could take this forever – it wouldn’t be a pleasurable endeavor, but she was feeling confident.
Then the hands changed again, and she yelped. Now they started pinching and scribbling her ribs, and her laughter increased considerably. She had forgotten how ticklish her ribs could be, even to a light stimulus like this. Once again she instinctively buckled forward, but was kept rigorously in place. Her head ached back as she laughed, the innocent manifestation of her struggle to escape the sensation.
And quickly she was realizing she couldn’t.
She got thankful for a second when the hands stopped tickling her ribs, digging into her armpits next. Once again, the cycle repeated – laughter, squirming, struggling. And just as quickly, the hands stopped, this time giving a more definitive reprieve. She panted in place, hanging uselessly from her bonds. She closed her eyes, reminding herself she had survived it. She had endured the first strike. She couldn’t let her fear conquer her. Jyn reminded what Saw told her: It’s not the blow you endured that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next. She would not allow it to get the best of her.
The torturer remained uncaring, watching the screen with attention. She couldn’t know this, due to her angle of vision, but he was analyzing the feedback from the machine, which was mapping her most ticklish spots. He was neglecting her feet, true – the machine was optimized for upperbody tickling – but he still believed in it’s creation ability to break the captive’s will. And, from initial feedback, it seemed promising – she had a very high ticklishness score, wih her midsection region seeming to be particularly promising. He took notes of that, before inputting many command lines.
- Okay Ms. Erso, it’s time to start the test for real. The machine is programmed to do so. Have a good evening, I’ll be back in a few hours – He said, moving towards the exit. Jyn’s eyes widened with fear. Hours? Was she going to be left there for hours, alone with the torture device?
– Wait, where are you going?! – She asked, but the man simply ignored her. He left the room, closing and locking the door – and exactly when she heard the lock, she felt the hands make contact again. This time, however, they were four pairs coming from behind her – two on her armpits, and two on her sides. She buckled forward again, perhaps subconsciously hoping to escape.
This hope, like all her other ones, were fruitless.
And now Jyn was starting to grasp the fact that what she had endured previously was nothing, literally nothing, compared to this. What she went through was merely a test, a quick run to check if everything was working. Now she was being tortured. She also noticed the machine kept testing ways to make the tickling worse – the hands on her armpits did a spidery motion for a minute, then dug deep for another, then tried drilling the index finger in them. Meanwhile, the hands at her sides never stopped squeezing and scribbling and scratching. Jyn wish she knew what conclusion the machine came too – she was too busy laughing to notice what tickled more.
Then, the machine started experimenting with her midsection, trying her navel, her sides, her hips, her ribs, and everything between. On this she was able to notice that her ribs were definitely the most ticklish area – scratching them deep send her completely over the edge. She hoped the machine would not do that too frequently, and was saddened by the realization that she was falling for the very tricks she knew she couldn’t. She was getting afraid, and that fear could be used against her.
Those thoughts, however, were dispelled when the hands scratched her ribs again.
Another very sensitive region, she quickly realized, has right below her armpits, near the uppermost rib, where her breasts connected with the armpit. It was much more sensitive than the center of the hollows, and deeper stimulus made her laugh loudly.
And it kept going! She was quickly understanding how terrible tickling could be as a torture instrument thanks to one factor: How unusually long the stimulus could be applied. Sure, getting tickled was a lot less worse than being electrocuted, but you can’t electrocute your target for 15 minutes and hope to still have him alive to interrogate.
The torture never stops, and this have a terrible effect on the subject’s mental state, as Jyn was quickly finding out.
Once again, she was distracted out of those thoughts as the machine tickled her armpits more aggressively for a second, making her buckle forward once more.
– HAHAHAAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHEHAHAHEEHEHE!! – She laughed at the empty room, struggling violently in her bonds. Right now she was being tickled on both her ribs and her sides, which she realized now was a terrible combination (For her – it was great for the machine). At least her midsection was the area with the most freedom of movement she had – but that was still not much, and the hands followed incessantly, never allowing any respites from the suffering.
In amidst the torture, wandering was everything her mind could do to try to get some respite, some peace. Thus, she caught herself thinking about the box below her – with the syringes and god knows what else. That box has not moved so far, all the hands coming from the empty area behind her.
And in fact, what else could that machine bring? Was 4 hands it’s limit? Could it bring more? Jyn shuddered at the thought.
But once more, her mind was abruptly brought back to her ticklish reality when the hands started tickling her inner thighs, squeezing strongly. The other two, meanwhile, tickled her sides furiously. Jyn howled, quickly losing the strength to fight, her body starting to resign to the fact there was no escape.
Her body lost hope. She couldn’t allow the same to happen with her mind.
But it was hard. Once again the hands came back to work on her extremely sensitive midsection – which she was quickly realizing was her true weakspot. Her ribs were almost unbearable, but everything in the region was hard. Near her bellybutton was also terribly ticklish. She didn’t want to find out how bad her bellybutton was, and hoped to not find out.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the robot stopped. Once again, Jyn felt her body hanging, supported by the machine. She felt pathetic, but she was too weak to fight it – and she needed to save her energy nonetheless.
- Feeling good, subject? – She heard a robotic voice speak, coming from the room as a whole. Was that the machine? Jyn looked around, confused. After a few instants, she felt the hands dig into her armpits again, tickling mercilessly. – I asked you a question.
- SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHRRRRYHYHYHYHYHY!!!! – She screamed, and the tickling ceased. Pleading to a machine. How low had she fallen? – I… Of course… not! – She replied, panting, but desperate to speak before the machine got angry again.
- Good. – Said the voice. – Rebels deserve no comfort, no respite, and no mercy. You have been subjected to 10 minutes with four hands. I will now tickle you for 20 minutes, and I’ll add two new appendages. – Jyn’s eyes widened, and her breath accelerated. She had just endured ten minutes?! And now she was going to be tickled for double that time?!?!
- Please, no! – She pleaded again. Deep inside, the proud Jyn Erso, member of the Rebellion, screamed in anger. But the rest of her being – Jyn Erso, the ticklish imperial prisoner – needed all mercy she could get, and humiliation was a small price to pay if it meant not getting tickled any worse.
- I’ll let you choose my tools – Said the machine. Finally, the box below/in front of her reacted, with doors opening on the sides. From them, four pairs of arms emerged. They were all hands, but holding different things. One pair actually didn’t hold anything. Another held a feather on each hand, stiff and small. The third pair held holopens, with very sharp tips. And finally she noticed, with a blush, that the last pair were holding sonic vibrators.
The voice went silent, but Jyn was confused. She had to make a decision, she guessed, and started thinking. After a few seconds, however, the machine spoke once again.
– Failure to comply results in punishment – It said, in a harsh tone. Suddenly, all the arms rushed forward, and went to work.
Jyn screamed – first of fear, then of agony.
The two feathers started tickling her navel – one lightly brushing on her entire stomach, softly, while the other went inside her bellybutton and started spinning furiously. Jyn’s fears were confirmed – the button was maddening.
Meanwhile, the two vibrators where applied to her ribs, and were by far the worst torture. She started shaking for real in the rack, struggling violently, to the point she was afraid of popping her arm out of its socket.
And she laughed, a mighty, never-ending laugh that filled the room. Could the other prisoners hear her? Oh my god this tickles so much.
The two new hands went to work on her hips, making her dance – the one of the left squeezed, making her jump to the right – into the hand in the right, which made her jump to the left, in a never-ending cycle of laughter.
And finally, the pens were scratching her lower sides, drawing all kinds of patterns. Holopens had deletable ink, making sure the canvas was always blank for another round.
- SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHRRHYHHYHYHYHYY!!!! – She screamed again, barely able to form the syllabuses amidst the laughter, praying that asking for forgiveness would be enough. It fell on deaf ears.
Jyn was starting to lose it. Her mind didn’t drift anymore – it was not impossible to focus on something else. And when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt the previous pairs of hands getting back to work – two hands on each armpit, tickling lightly and slowly in the left, and fiercely in the right. She couldn’t really decide what was worst, each bringing its own form of torment – one is teasing, while the other is devastating. One keeps at edge, while the other breaks the will. One is the preparation for a blow that never comes, while the other is being hit repeatedly.
Though she was only half-aware of her own thoughts, the finer details of her suffering lost due to the fact she was struggling like a madwoman and laughing, screaming and cursing like…. Like someone who’s being tickled tortured for almost half an hour, I guess.
As her torture continued, she started losing her strength. Her arms failed to propel her to struggle. Her legs couldn’t pull and push anymore. Her midsection could no longer dance. Her body had given up, accepting the ticklish feelings as inevitable.
And Jyn was ashamed of her own weakness. Because, deep down, she was starting to lose her willpower. The thoughts of betraying her friends crossed her mind – and were quickly dispelled. Still, they were there, buzzing like an annoying mosquito – or, alternatively, like those double-damned vibrators on her ribs. And, heavy with guilt, she found herself wishing the machine was asking some questions. Any questions. Anything that at least assured her that she could end the torment if she wanted to. There was a tragedy in having to fight against the temptation of giving in, but at least, maybe, it could give her some fuel to bolster her will. Right now, she had absolutely nothing – her only option was to suffer and laugh.
And that was by design. Giving her a way out would be giving her hope. The Embrace was there to teach her there was no hope left on the world. And it was succeeding.
And thus, Jyn was forced to take it. Take it, and keep taking it. Ten hands working all over her body was positively driving Jyn Erso nuts. She needed a break, and she wondered how long it would take, as she stood there, almost motionless. Unbeknownst to her, the 20 minutes were up already, but just like her, the machine also knew that what breaks the subject was the fear of the next blow – and a way of enhancing the fear was by lying about how badly the previous experience was. Under tickling and with no visible clocks, the subject completely loses the sense of time.
Thus, when the tickling was hitting the 35 minutes mark since the last break, the machine decided to taunt.
- Only one minute to go, Rebel! Let’s play a game. I’ll let you end the torture anytime, just shout “Mercy”. If you do, however, the next cycle will be worse. If you manage to not ask for mercy for a minute… I might give you some. Ready? – The machine asked, ans Jyn nodded – she had learned her lesson. Failure to comply leads to punishment.
And then, Jyn’s eyes popped from her eyes and she left out a guttural howl, the cries of a tortured beast. Everything started tickling at absolute full force – the hands started scribbling at inhuman speeds, or squeezing deeper than ever. It sent a clear message: Whatever you are going through, we have ways of making it worse.
Jyn tried to hold it, but it was unbearable. And finally, she was allowed some control over her fate. Almost by instinct, a few seconds in, she screamed.
- MEHEHEHEHEHEHERRRRRRCYCYCYCYYHYYHYHYHYH!!! – She finally begged.
Making true on its promise, the machine indeed stopped. Jyn felt relieved. It had been a long time since she had gotten a break, but finally, it was over.
And then, the machine spoke.
- Okay, you got your mercy. Break is over. The next cycle is one hour – the machine said. Jyn couldn’t believe her ears. Her breath got quick, and she felt the despair growing inside her.
She started repeating to herself: It’s the fear of the next blow that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next blow that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next blow…
She knew that. And yet, she was afraid. And she wanted to break. But she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and braced herself.
And after a few seconds, it hit her, and her mind was completely melted, because the machine started tickling her at full force, just like before, with that maddening intensity she didn’t manage to last even a minute a few instants ago.
And she would have to endure a whole hour. Her laughter could barely be recognized as such, most of the sounds replaced with bone-chilling screams of pure agony. She struggled with renewed strength, strength born from the despair of her hopeless situation.
And the machine added another twist to the torture: Every few instants, the arms would cycle around her, changing the spots each tool was being used. So now she had vibrators on her armpits, feathers on her ribs, brushes on her hips… And on the next moment, another combination. The quick change broke any attempts of defense she mustered. Above all, she cursed her midsection, specially her ribs. Her entire belly, sides and ribs were absurdly ticklish, and seemed to only grow more sensitive each minute.
Finally, she understood how effective that machine was – not only could it keep tickling for a long time, but it could tickle at a much quicker pace than any number of humans could.
She couldn’t take it anymore. 10 minutes into this new torture, she broke. She told what she thought the machine wanted to hear, hoping that it would bring an end to the torture.
Hope was all she had.
- IHIHIHIHIHIH’LL THAHAHAHAHALKK!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHLLL TAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALLLKK!! – She pleaded. She would normally feel terrible, but the ticklish sensations didn’t allow for any other feelings right now. Tickling was everything on her mind – tickling, and the desire to make it stop.
But the pleads fell in deaf ears. She tried again, but didn’t get any results.
She then resorted to one last hope. She breathed. She was ready to die from the start – and at least that little control she was still able to enforce. She was tired of suffering pointlessly – and it was clear for her now that the machine would never stop, no matter what she did. She was tired of being robbed of her freedom, of being merely a toy for that sadistic thing.
She got ready to bite her tongue off, and end it all.
But before she could do it, she felt one of the hands entering her mouth, keeping it open with strong metallic fingers. No, that couldn’t be. That thing couldn’t take her freedom away! She had a right over her life! She tried to shake the hand off, but it was too strong.
- Bad girl… You are not allowed to do this! The cycle has been increased to an hour and a half – The machine said.
Jyn cried. There was no hope left. She wasn’t even allowed to cry properly, since the laughs kept getting in the way. Like a bumbling fool, she spent her time sobbing and squealing, in a horrific paradox.
As she hit the tirthy minute mark, she felt herself completely drained. She felt she was about to faint and welcomed the embrace of darkness. But naturally, the machine would not allow that either. Finally the syringes below her moved, hitting her along her legs and arms. And as the fluid entered her bloodstream, she felt her strength coming back. She struggled harder than ever, trying to shake the needles off, but they followed her movements, always staying in place. She was awoken again.
She cried. She pleaded and begged for the following fifteen minutes, always hoping to finally touch that metallic heart, to finally make it understand she could no longer bear this, and she needed it to end, and that she would do anything for it. But every plead fell on deaf ears. Machines have no feelings, only the programming.
And then, she accepted. She understood at last. She was no longer human. Jyn Erso, the human being with rights, freedom and hope, died with the headshot from Krennic. What they extracted from that place was a shell of a person, a carcass whose only purpose was to obey and to suffer on command.
She wished the Emperor would order her execution soon. But she didn’t hope. She knew better.
And the minutes stretched forever, as all she could do was squirm and laugh, as her ticklish armpits, sensitive thighs and unbearable midsection were probed, raked and pinched. She couldn’t take it anymore, and yet she had no other option, because only human beings deserved mercy.
The machine finally understood that Jyn had reached the state it wished. It stopped for a moment, taking Jyn by surprise. She cried again, this time of relief, but didn’t have much time to enjoy it. One of the hands grabbed her chin and forced it upright, forcing it to face the computer. It was merely a symbolic act – the machine had no face, and could see everything through multiple cameras. And then, it spoke.
- Who are you?
- I’m Jyn Erso… - Jyn replied, hesitantly.
- Wrong. You are the Empire’s bitch. – The machine replied, and two hands started lightly tickling her ribs. She screamed.
- YEHEHEHESS!! I’M THE EHEHEHEMPIHIHIRREHEHEHEH’S BIHIHIHITTCCHH!! – Anything to make that stop. And it stopped indeed.
- What is your purpose in life? – The machine asked.
- T-to be a test subject? – She replied, unsure.
- Close. Your purpose in life is to please me, to please the Inquisitor, and to please the emperor. In that order.
- My purpose is to please you, to please the Inquisitor, and to please the Emperor… - She replied, obediently, feeling disgusted with herself, but also relieved that the tickling finally stopped.
- Good – The machine replied, and the door once again slid open. The inquisitor entered again, and without even looking at Jyn, went straight for the computer.
Jyn saw her chance. She could finally end this. Saw Guerrera be damned, the Rebels be damned, she needed to stop the tickling. She was terrified of the next cycle.
- I’ll talk I swear. Wathever you want. The Rebel Base is in Yavin 4! Their leader is Senator Mon Mothma! They have 3 squadrons, the Blue Squadron was wiped out in the Battle of Scarif. But the Red and Gold one remains, the Gold one is comprised of Y-wing bombers and… - She said, her voice slowly dying as she realized the man was not listening.
He just typed in the computer, and smiled, satisfied with the data.
- The Emperor will be most satisfied with your job, Embrace. – He complimented the machine.
- I am built to serve, Master- It replied.
- I… I want to talk! You did it, you broke me! Please, let me tell you everything, I can’t take it anymore! – She pleaded. Once again, she realized, she was falling victim to Hope.
The Inquisitor slowly approached her, observing the terrible state she was into, how much pain and suffering and distress she was into. He smirked, and said:
- Of course you will talk. This was never in question, Rebel. I told you in the start. This isn’t an interrogation. You cannot end this – He declared, turning his back and moving towards the door again. – Embrace, proceed with the testing. Try a longer stretch now, we need to see if you can maintain a prisoner in optimal suffering for long times. Try four hours for the next cycle, okay?
- NO! PLEASE, I WILL DO ANYTHING! – Jyn screamed. She couldn’t take 4 hours. She couldn’t. They couldn’t be this cruel.
Without addressing her, the man left the room again. The hands in the machine started approaching.
- NOOOOOO!!!! – She cried, as the hands made contact again.
She begged for death. For anything that could give her a break. She cursed the day she joined the rebellion. It was not worth it. She should have obeyed the Empire. Kept her head low. Ignored her father. Everything was lost, and she was in hell.
And, amidst her screaming delirium, she thought she heard something: The motors of an X-Wing fleet. She wondered if her friends had come, or would come, rescue her. It was impossible – the fleet was destroyed, most of the Rebels died, and she just gave them the location of the secret base. Logically speaking, it could end only one way: The rebellion crushed, the empire victorious.
But her mind couldn’t handle the prospect of being locked here, tickled forever. She needed something. And thus, she hoped – she hoped she was indeed hearing a fleet, that the Rebels would come rescue her, that they would find a way.
Hope was all she had.
--------------- Part 2 ----------------
Exhaustion didn’t begin to describe it.
Jyn Erso believed the machine. She absolutely believed the threat of the 4-hour torture session. She believed from the first minute, and the machine gave her no reason to have any hopes of a bluff. Jyn Erso had no idea how long it has been so far, but from past experiences, she supposed she was nearing the one-hour mark.
It had been hell. All the hands and their tools resumed tickling with full intensity as soon as the Inquisitor left the room, and they hadn’t stopped since. Jyn wanted to struggle, to curse, to die, but she didn’t have the energy for the first two or the permission for the third. Slowly, she learned a new definition of what is “bearable” or not. Like, that torture, she thought it was unbearable. And yet, what has she done, if nor bear it for two hours now?
Well, she was broken, and has been for a long time. The once proud rebel would do anything to make that stop. To make the robot stop squeezing her thighs, scratching her armpits, and above all, prodding her ribs. Oh, her ribs, cursed be them all. Still, broken as she was, she was still alive, wasn’t she? She was still laughing. She was still wishing this all would end, in wathever manner. She could still think. Cogito, ergo sum, I think, therefore I am, said some philosopher or something.
For Jyn, right now, it was more on the land of “I laugh, therefore I am”. “I suffer, therefore I am”. Still, the machine had stripped her human rights from her, but it couldn’t strip away her being – not that Jyn would voice those feelings. She had learned to not challenge the machine, to obey the machine, and she would. She was an obedient toy. Still, even if Jyn herself was denied to end her existence, she took comfort in the fact that the machine could not torture her existence out of her.
She needed to cling to something, now that she no longer had hope.
For the millionth time, her mental rambling was dispersed by a particularly effective squeeze to her thighs.
- OHOHOHHOHOHO GOGOHOHOHOHOHDDD!!!
- There is no god here, Jyn. I am your god. – The machine replied.
At this point, Jyn was just hanging, just occasionally squirming lightly when a stronger stimulus shook her up. She had no energy for anything else. More and more, she closed within her own mind, her brain lightly realizing cutting stimulus from the outside was the best way to proceed. Within her own mind, Jyn begun to fear about one thing she didn’t realize she could still lose: Her sanity.
After a few more minutes, however, the machine slowed down. Jyn almost cried of relief.
- I’m getting bored. Let’s play a game, Jyn?
- Whahahahttehehehehevvveheehehrrr yohohohohuhuhu wahahahahahannntt! – She replied, obediently. She learned to not defy the machine.
- Wathever you want, Master – The machine corrected, punctuating the error by increasing the pace again. Jyn howled like an animal before quickly screaming
- MAHAHAHAHASSTHEHEHEHRRR! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSTTHEHEHEHEHERRR!
- Good. – The machine said, slowing the torture down – but not stopping it, never stopping it. Jyn’s life would be composed solely of torture from now on; mercy would only come in the form of less torture. – You still have three hours to go. I’ll start tickling you at full force again in one minute, on spots at my leisure. If you manage to not laugh for five minutes, you’ll receive fifteen minutes of light tickling. If you fail, you’ll be punished What do you say?
- YEhehehehEHEhess MahahHAHassteheheherr!! – She replied, desperate for anything that could ease her suffering.
The machine then started counting from 30, and Jyn knew it was her signal to prepare. And she did, biting her lip hard as it reached 5. 4. 3. 2.
Before hitting 1, the hands made contact with her ribs, catching Jyn by surprise. She squealed and buckled forward, failing immediately.
- Why, that was disappointing – Said the machine, resuming the full-body, full-force onslaught. Once again, Jyn had been stripped of hope, that sadistic machine giving her a taste of it just to take it away. She screamed. – Time for your punishment.
The hands and tools kept tickling her throughout her whole body, as she had been for the past hours, until the five minutes were up. Then, the machine slowed down again, and Jyn fell forward, hanging by the millionth time. Finally, one of the syringes moved and hit her again. She thought it was the revitalizing serum – god knows she needed it, though she would rather just faint – but it wasn’t. She was not sure what it did.
Then the counting started again, and Jyn knew her only choice was to play. And she would. Anything was worth a reduction in the torture – she had grown accustomed with the full-force tickling in the past hours, but now that she got a few minutes of a lighter treatment, she was afraid again. She remembered what having a simpler time felt like, and she wanted that.
Thus she bit her lip at 5 and was ready for the tickling to start at any second, but this time the machine was honest, starting at one, with two hands holding feathers stroking up and down her arms. And once again she was taken by surprise, but she managed to keep her mouth shut, emitting a muffled scream.
She was MUCH more ticklish for some reason. Her armpits were sensitive, but not that much, and not against the feathers. And yet, each stroke was absolutely agonizing. She kept her mouth shut because she needed to do it, but each stroke took out a sound – if the machine wanted perfect silence, she would have lost already. But she was not laughing – muffled yelping, screaming and crying, sure, but not laughing.
Then two hands, no tools, started scribbling her sides. Her eyes popped open – that was unbearable! – but somehow, not even she was sure how, she kept her mouth shut. She started laughing though, continuously, and that put her in a bad spot – with the mouth shut, the air from her laughter needed to go out through the nose, and while it was getting out, it couldn’t get in. She tried to couple the two, trying to gasp short amounts between each laugh, and she sounded like a pig having an orgasm. But she couldn’t open her mouth… She couldn’t…
And then the rotating brushes hit her ribs, and she screamed from the top of her lungs. In the next millisecond, she was being tickled by all the implements again. She screamed, tears rolling down her face. An already unbearable torture had just gotten considerably more intense.
And once again, 5 minutes later, it all ended, she was injected, and the count restarted from 30. She noticed, with horror, that the “light” tickling was starting to feel torturous.
- Plehehehahahahahssehehehhe NOHOHOHHO MHOHOhoHOHOHoohhrrrheheheheeEHEHEE! – She begged to the machine.
Thanks to her desperate pleas, she didn’t prepare herself for the tickling – and she couldn’t really stop laughing, thanks to the “light” treatment. All the machine had to do was squeeze her thighs once, and then the harshest torture would restart, getting more and more maddening each second.
Her chance had eluded her. After three more cycles of that, the “light” treatment was as horrible as the harsh one was before it all started. And when she lost the game, time and time again, she was treated with a torture that transcended the word “unbearable”, that was so horrible that words could not do it any justice. She struggled so hard – despite almost five hours of continuous torture – that she started to feel her tendons and ligaments rupture – but the pain was quickly soothed, and the injuries mended, by the serums of the cursed machine.
She cried, as she was injected with the sensitivity enhancer again.
- PLHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHSSSEHEHEHEHEH STTOHOHOHOHOHOPPP!! KIHIHIHIHIHIHLLLL MHMMMEHHEHEEHHEHEHEHE!!! – She begged, crying.
- No – The machine replied, and all arms descended upon her. Her scream matched those of the damned in the fires of hell. She cried, tears rolling down her eyes, making her taste their salt. She couldn’t take it. Her body couldn’t bear it. Her mind couldn’t bear it. For the love of god, someone make this top. Daddy…
- DDDAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAADDDHHYHYHYHYHYHY!!! – She cried for Galen Erso, for Saw Guerrera, for anyone that could help her.
- Jyn…. Why did you do that? – She heard her father say, and saw him in the corner. She cried more, a hint of joy, hoping her father would rescue her.
- You know you deserve this. Why did you join the Rebels? Why did you let me die? – The machine taunted, with Galen’s voice, adding to the hallucinogens that Jyn had been administered. The young rebel didn’t even consider the hypothesis – she was in no state to do it.
- SAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAVVVHEHEHEHEHEHE MMEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!! – She cried again. – KIIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHLLL MMEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!! – She begged.
- No, Jyn, I will not. Because you dezzerv…. Dzzztt… Bzzzttt… - The machine failed, and stopped. The energy of the whole building had been cut.
Jyn cried of happiness.
- Thahannks… Daddy… Thahanks… - She cried, still giggling from the ordeal, even the lightest breeze managing to tickle her a bit.
The door was blown open and she screamed in terror, certain it was the Empire ready to torture her further. She kept screaming, her altered state unable to recognize the ragtag survivors of the Rebellion.
They broke the machine, freeing her. Admiral Ackbar himself led the charge – he was not a field warrior, but the Rebellion needed every able body.
- Take her quick and let’s go. She’ll recover at the ship! – He said, as one of the soldiers grabbed Jyn Erso on his arms. Slowly, she stopped screaming and, finally, was allowed the comfortable rest of unconsciousness. She didn’t realize it immediately – and, in her dreams, the machine was still there, poking her sides, scratching her ribs – but she was finally free. Her torture was over.
Slowly, she would learn to hope again. She would be restored. And she would help bring peace to the galaxy as one of the greatest icons of the rebellion!
Or maybe she would end up captured again, finally tortured to insanity. Only time would tell. But for now, Jyn Erso rests with a smile, and the Rebellion manages to score a small victory over the Empire.
A commissioner of mine asked me to post my stories here. I initially gave him the permission, but then change my mind - why ask the poor guy to do it when I can do it myself?
This is why this thread has a duplicate, that can be found here: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?285650-Star-Wars-Losing-Hope-(Jyn-Erso-Tickling-Story) . If the mods could delete the old thread, I'd be very thankful, and sorry for the trouble and confusion.
Nonetheless, here is the full 2-part story, for your enjoyment.
I take commissions! If you want to commission me a story, please contact me THROUGH DA. My profile is: http://the-tickling-master.deviantart.com/gallery/
Feedback is greatly appreciated. If you liked (And especially if you disliked) the story, leave a comment!
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Her heart rushed. Sweat running down her forehead. Behind, she left the corpse of a friend. Ahead, the only thing that matters – the mission. They all knew death could be waiting – though, deep inside, there was the hope of getting away even after all this mess. Hope is all they ever had, after all. Rebellions are built on hope.
She needed to redirect the antenna in order to send the plans of the Death Star to the rebellion. If she could do that, they had won – nothing after that would matter. Capture, torture or execution, nothing would matter – she would have assured her father’s revenge. The seeds of rebellion he planted on the Death Star would bear fruits, grow into a mighty tree that would destroy the Empire!
She had that hope. Hope was all she had.
She arrived at the panel, the tension apparent on her face. She typed quickly the necessary commands, and with a loud noise, the antenna begun to spin into place. All she needed now was to go back to the center of the tower, a few feet away. A single rush through the precarious footing she currently was and she would be there. Then she would win, they would all win, and all the lives lost today would have been worthy. She had that hope. Hope was all she had
Her hope was crushed with a single sound – a “pew” among a sea of “pew”s, the most important of all “pew”s shot on that day. Krennic managed to catch up before she could return to the main computer to upload the files. Krennic had lost much time that day with theatrics – not now. A single shot, straight to the head, with precision honed by decades on the Empire’s military. On stun, of course, not on kill – that girl could be a very valuable prisoner.
And with that, hope was lost, and Jyn Erso didn’t even realize, knocked out cold as she was. This fortunately spared her of seeing all the death and destruction caused by the Empire on the rebel forces as they pointlessly awaited the plans. They stayed in the fight way past what common sense would dictate. They bet more than they could afford to lose, and then they lost it all.
Because they had hope. And now, they couldn’t have even that. What little remained of the fleet retreated when it was painfully obvious that Jyn and her teammates had failed. They would surely be all dead by now.
And, except for the girl herself, they were. Jyn, still unconscious – this time through sedatives - was taken from the planet to somewhere else: Coruscant, the Imperial Center, hearth of the Empire and home of Palpatine. There, she was taken to the deepest levels of the Emperor’s castle, where the most vital prisoners of war suffered indescribable torment through interrogation or just torture for the sake of torture.
When Jyn awoke, it was in an entirely different environment. She looked around, still dazed, her instincts urging her to rush forward and upload the files. When she tried, however, she realized she was not able to do so – she was restrained to a vertical frame, lightly inclined upwards. She couldn’t see behind her, but she could feel that she was on top of a big machine, instead of a simple vertical table. Each of her limbs was locked into one of the extremities of the device, making her completely exposed, tied in an X. The coldness she was feeling drew attention to the fact she was now undressed, with only her undergarments spared. She then noticed she was no longer atop of the tower at Scarif, within the imperial data bank. Instead, she was in some sort of dungeon – metal ceiling, metal floor, metal walls. Everything was grey. A depressing look.
So, that was it. Captured by the Empire. That meant she was now going to die screaming. It didn’t matter though. Nothing mattered. They bet everything, and they lost. Her torture – and she had no doubt she was about to be tortured – was irrelevant. She was trained for this, from her times with Saw Guerrera. Her paranoid stepfather trained her in all forms of resistance to pain. She was familiar with the mind-games of torture, and knew how to circumvent them. They would get nothing out of her.
And then… She waited. Waited and waited, then waited a little more. Waiting was terrible – the boredom made her mind drift, and it drifted straight to her upcoming ordeal. But she was also familiar with this tactic. Let the tortured do half the job themselves, in their mind. Pain is not the key to a session – fear is. Pain is merely an instrument to induct fear, to create a game of reward and punishment. Those were what broke the interrogated’s mind and made them spill the beans. Not the punch that just hit, but the fear of the next one. She would not allow herself to fall for that trap. Thus, she redirected her mind to somewhere else, when she was a child, and she, her father and her mother still lived a happy life.
She would never forgive the Empire for taking that away from her.
Finally the door slid to the side, as two men entered the room. One was Krennic, still dressed in his impeccable white Grand Admiral suit. The other man was unknown – he wore standard Imperial Army outfit, but also a black mask made of fabric.
- And here we are, dear Rebel. You lost – Taunted Krannic, who now once again had the time for his pompous speeches – The Rebellion was crushed after their foolish attack. All your friends are dead. Right now, the remaining Rebels are certainly cowering in their base, awaiting to be brought to justice like the rats they are!
- I’ll never tell you anything! – Retorted Jyn – I’ll die by your hands, but you will have nothing.
- Oh, we are well aware that you have been trained to resist most forms of torture. Which is why we are employing the services of Mr. Kraus – He said, signaling the masked man. She doubted Kraus was his true name – His craft is quite unique. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. You might even find it funny. Now goodbye – He said, turning his back – I await a report in the morning.
- Sure – Replied the torturer. When Krennic left, Jyn stared the mysterious man.
- I will not… - She started, but was interrupted.
- Shut up. I have to think. I’m not here to interrogate you, I’m here to use you as a test subject.
She stood there – she didn’t have other options -, puzzled. She was not being interrogated? Krennic certainly seemed to believe so.
A test subject? For what, she wondered. As if he could read her mind, the man continued his ramblings.
- You are going to help me test my most recent invention… I based it on the engravings of an extremely ancient race, forgotten by time… No one knows where they’re from or where they are, just some artifacts scattered throughout the galaxy… Nonetheless, based on their design, I created this. I call it “The Embrace of Mirth”.
Embrace of… Mirth? What was that madman rambling about?! He paid no attention to her, typing on a computer on the corner of the room.
Suddenly, the machine started moving. It started reclining forward, until she was facing the floor at an inclination of 45º. From below, she saw a part of the machine slide forward, until it was right below her. It looked like a close metallic box, that finally opened to reveal a bunch of syringes facing her, and other instruments whose purpose she was not aware – rods with round tips, claw-like structures, etc.
Behind her back, she also noticed something strange, as the solid surface behind her back also slid open. She guesses similar instruments also faced her back, or maybe others.
It was an embrace alright. Was she about to experience chemical torture? But what about the Mirth part?
The man once again typed things, and she felt the machine trembling. Something was about to start. She gulped. It was time to face her fate. She would endure it with everything she had. She would die screaming, but loyal. She had that hope.
Hope was all she had.
And yet, she was taken by surprise when, instead of burns and cuts, of pain and suffering, she was met with a different sensation: A gentle squeeze on her hips. Shocked, she buckled forward – or rather, downwards, trying to escape the touch, her brain still not fully processing what she was experiencing, acting completely by instinct. However, she was bound extremely tight, and her buckling was fruitless, merely squirming in place, providing no respite. Another squeeze came, and then a third and fourth and many others in quick succession, and finally Jyn Erson realized what was happening.
She was being tickled.
- WHAHAHAHAHAHAHATT THEHEHEHEHEHEHE FFFUHUHUHUHUHUHUCCKCKCCK!!! – She exclaimed in surprised laughter. Jyn has been a very ticklish girl since childhood. In fact, Saw Guerrera tickled her sometimes as torture training, but never for too long – only stuff like not laughing for two minutes or keeping her arms raised while having her armpits attacked.
Now, she was at the hands of an actual tickling maniac, and she doubted he would stop tickling her in two minutes.
Laughing and squirming, Jyn forced herself to establish enough self-control to look down. She saw cartoonish white hands pinching and squeezing her hips. The hands were on the extremity of a metallic “arm” so to speak, a malleable, retractable metallic appendage, which came from behind her, into the body of the machine that she could not see.
It was exactly the kind of tickling hand a tickling machine from a cartoon would have. Jyn felt extremely silly – and the ticklish feelings didn’t help. There were two of them, tickling her hips on each side.
– STohohOHOHOHpP ThahAHAHAHAhtHTTH!! – She ordered, now able to calm down a bit since the surprise had passed. The man didn’t even acknowledge her furious remark, continuing to type commands and analyzing the screen with joyful intensity, like a father watching his child.
It tickled madly, but not nearly enough to break her. She could take this forever – it wouldn’t be a pleasurable endeavor, but she was feeling confident.
Then the hands changed again, and she yelped. Now they started pinching and scribbling her ribs, and her laughter increased considerably. She had forgotten how ticklish her ribs could be, even to a light stimulus like this. Once again she instinctively buckled forward, but was kept rigorously in place. Her head ached back as she laughed, the innocent manifestation of her struggle to escape the sensation.
And quickly she was realizing she couldn’t.
She got thankful for a second when the hands stopped tickling her ribs, digging into her armpits next. Once again, the cycle repeated – laughter, squirming, struggling. And just as quickly, the hands stopped, this time giving a more definitive reprieve. She panted in place, hanging uselessly from her bonds. She closed her eyes, reminding herself she had survived it. She had endured the first strike. She couldn’t let her fear conquer her. Jyn reminded what Saw told her: It’s not the blow you endured that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next. She would not allow it to get the best of her.
The torturer remained uncaring, watching the screen with attention. She couldn’t know this, due to her angle of vision, but he was analyzing the feedback from the machine, which was mapping her most ticklish spots. He was neglecting her feet, true – the machine was optimized for upperbody tickling – but he still believed in it’s creation ability to break the captive’s will. And, from initial feedback, it seemed promising – she had a very high ticklishness score, wih her midsection region seeming to be particularly promising. He took notes of that, before inputting many command lines.
- Okay Ms. Erso, it’s time to start the test for real. The machine is programmed to do so. Have a good evening, I’ll be back in a few hours – He said, moving towards the exit. Jyn’s eyes widened with fear. Hours? Was she going to be left there for hours, alone with the torture device?
– Wait, where are you going?! – She asked, but the man simply ignored her. He left the room, closing and locking the door – and exactly when she heard the lock, she felt the hands make contact again. This time, however, they were four pairs coming from behind her – two on her armpits, and two on her sides. She buckled forward again, perhaps subconsciously hoping to escape.
This hope, like all her other ones, were fruitless.
And now Jyn was starting to grasp the fact that what she had endured previously was nothing, literally nothing, compared to this. What she went through was merely a test, a quick run to check if everything was working. Now she was being tortured. She also noticed the machine kept testing ways to make the tickling worse – the hands on her armpits did a spidery motion for a minute, then dug deep for another, then tried drilling the index finger in them. Meanwhile, the hands at her sides never stopped squeezing and scribbling and scratching. Jyn wish she knew what conclusion the machine came too – she was too busy laughing to notice what tickled more.
Then, the machine started experimenting with her midsection, trying her navel, her sides, her hips, her ribs, and everything between. On this she was able to notice that her ribs were definitely the most ticklish area – scratching them deep send her completely over the edge. She hoped the machine would not do that too frequently, and was saddened by the realization that she was falling for the very tricks she knew she couldn’t. She was getting afraid, and that fear could be used against her.
Those thoughts, however, were dispelled when the hands scratched her ribs again.
Another very sensitive region, she quickly realized, has right below her armpits, near the uppermost rib, where her breasts connected with the armpit. It was much more sensitive than the center of the hollows, and deeper stimulus made her laugh loudly.
And it kept going! She was quickly understanding how terrible tickling could be as a torture instrument thanks to one factor: How unusually long the stimulus could be applied. Sure, getting tickled was a lot less worse than being electrocuted, but you can’t electrocute your target for 15 minutes and hope to still have him alive to interrogate.
The torture never stops, and this have a terrible effect on the subject’s mental state, as Jyn was quickly finding out.
Once again, she was distracted out of those thoughts as the machine tickled her armpits more aggressively for a second, making her buckle forward once more.
– HAHAHAAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHEHAHAHEEHEHE!! – She laughed at the empty room, struggling violently in her bonds. Right now she was being tickled on both her ribs and her sides, which she realized now was a terrible combination (For her – it was great for the machine). At least her midsection was the area with the most freedom of movement she had – but that was still not much, and the hands followed incessantly, never allowing any respites from the suffering.
In amidst the torture, wandering was everything her mind could do to try to get some respite, some peace. Thus, she caught herself thinking about the box below her – with the syringes and god knows what else. That box has not moved so far, all the hands coming from the empty area behind her.
And in fact, what else could that machine bring? Was 4 hands it’s limit? Could it bring more? Jyn shuddered at the thought.
But once more, her mind was abruptly brought back to her ticklish reality when the hands started tickling her inner thighs, squeezing strongly. The other two, meanwhile, tickled her sides furiously. Jyn howled, quickly losing the strength to fight, her body starting to resign to the fact there was no escape.
Her body lost hope. She couldn’t allow the same to happen with her mind.
But it was hard. Once again the hands came back to work on her extremely sensitive midsection – which she was quickly realizing was her true weakspot. Her ribs were almost unbearable, but everything in the region was hard. Near her bellybutton was also terribly ticklish. She didn’t want to find out how bad her bellybutton was, and hoped to not find out.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the robot stopped. Once again, Jyn felt her body hanging, supported by the machine. She felt pathetic, but she was too weak to fight it – and she needed to save her energy nonetheless.
- Feeling good, subject? – She heard a robotic voice speak, coming from the room as a whole. Was that the machine? Jyn looked around, confused. After a few instants, she felt the hands dig into her armpits again, tickling mercilessly. – I asked you a question.
- SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHRRRRYHYHYHYHYHY!!!! – She screamed, and the tickling ceased. Pleading to a machine. How low had she fallen? – I… Of course… not! – She replied, panting, but desperate to speak before the machine got angry again.
- Good. – Said the voice. – Rebels deserve no comfort, no respite, and no mercy. You have been subjected to 10 minutes with four hands. I will now tickle you for 20 minutes, and I’ll add two new appendages. – Jyn’s eyes widened, and her breath accelerated. She had just endured ten minutes?! And now she was going to be tickled for double that time?!?!
- Please, no! – She pleaded again. Deep inside, the proud Jyn Erso, member of the Rebellion, screamed in anger. But the rest of her being – Jyn Erso, the ticklish imperial prisoner – needed all mercy she could get, and humiliation was a small price to pay if it meant not getting tickled any worse.
- I’ll let you choose my tools – Said the machine. Finally, the box below/in front of her reacted, with doors opening on the sides. From them, four pairs of arms emerged. They were all hands, but holding different things. One pair actually didn’t hold anything. Another held a feather on each hand, stiff and small. The third pair held holopens, with very sharp tips. And finally she noticed, with a blush, that the last pair were holding sonic vibrators.
The voice went silent, but Jyn was confused. She had to make a decision, she guessed, and started thinking. After a few seconds, however, the machine spoke once again.
– Failure to comply results in punishment – It said, in a harsh tone. Suddenly, all the arms rushed forward, and went to work.
Jyn screamed – first of fear, then of agony.
The two feathers started tickling her navel – one lightly brushing on her entire stomach, softly, while the other went inside her bellybutton and started spinning furiously. Jyn’s fears were confirmed – the button was maddening.
Meanwhile, the two vibrators where applied to her ribs, and were by far the worst torture. She started shaking for real in the rack, struggling violently, to the point she was afraid of popping her arm out of its socket.
And she laughed, a mighty, never-ending laugh that filled the room. Could the other prisoners hear her? Oh my god this tickles so much.
The two new hands went to work on her hips, making her dance – the one of the left squeezed, making her jump to the right – into the hand in the right, which made her jump to the left, in a never-ending cycle of laughter.
And finally, the pens were scratching her lower sides, drawing all kinds of patterns. Holopens had deletable ink, making sure the canvas was always blank for another round.
- SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHRRHYHHYHYHYHYY!!!! – She screamed again, barely able to form the syllabuses amidst the laughter, praying that asking for forgiveness would be enough. It fell on deaf ears.
Jyn was starting to lose it. Her mind didn’t drift anymore – it was not impossible to focus on something else. And when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt the previous pairs of hands getting back to work – two hands on each armpit, tickling lightly and slowly in the left, and fiercely in the right. She couldn’t really decide what was worst, each bringing its own form of torment – one is teasing, while the other is devastating. One keeps at edge, while the other breaks the will. One is the preparation for a blow that never comes, while the other is being hit repeatedly.
Though she was only half-aware of her own thoughts, the finer details of her suffering lost due to the fact she was struggling like a madwoman and laughing, screaming and cursing like…. Like someone who’s being tickled tortured for almost half an hour, I guess.
As her torture continued, she started losing her strength. Her arms failed to propel her to struggle. Her legs couldn’t pull and push anymore. Her midsection could no longer dance. Her body had given up, accepting the ticklish feelings as inevitable.
And Jyn was ashamed of her own weakness. Because, deep down, she was starting to lose her willpower. The thoughts of betraying her friends crossed her mind – and were quickly dispelled. Still, they were there, buzzing like an annoying mosquito – or, alternatively, like those double-damned vibrators on her ribs. And, heavy with guilt, she found herself wishing the machine was asking some questions. Any questions. Anything that at least assured her that she could end the torment if she wanted to. There was a tragedy in having to fight against the temptation of giving in, but at least, maybe, it could give her some fuel to bolster her will. Right now, she had absolutely nothing – her only option was to suffer and laugh.
And that was by design. Giving her a way out would be giving her hope. The Embrace was there to teach her there was no hope left on the world. And it was succeeding.
And thus, Jyn was forced to take it. Take it, and keep taking it. Ten hands working all over her body was positively driving Jyn Erso nuts. She needed a break, and she wondered how long it would take, as she stood there, almost motionless. Unbeknownst to her, the 20 minutes were up already, but just like her, the machine also knew that what breaks the subject was the fear of the next blow – and a way of enhancing the fear was by lying about how badly the previous experience was. Under tickling and with no visible clocks, the subject completely loses the sense of time.
Thus, when the tickling was hitting the 35 minutes mark since the last break, the machine decided to taunt.
- Only one minute to go, Rebel! Let’s play a game. I’ll let you end the torture anytime, just shout “Mercy”. If you do, however, the next cycle will be worse. If you manage to not ask for mercy for a minute… I might give you some. Ready? – The machine asked, ans Jyn nodded – she had learned her lesson. Failure to comply leads to punishment.
And then, Jyn’s eyes popped from her eyes and she left out a guttural howl, the cries of a tortured beast. Everything started tickling at absolute full force – the hands started scribbling at inhuman speeds, or squeezing deeper than ever. It sent a clear message: Whatever you are going through, we have ways of making it worse.
Jyn tried to hold it, but it was unbearable. And finally, she was allowed some control over her fate. Almost by instinct, a few seconds in, she screamed.
- MEHEHEHEHEHEHERRRRRRCYCYCYCYYHYYHYHYHYH!!! – She finally begged.
Making true on its promise, the machine indeed stopped. Jyn felt relieved. It had been a long time since she had gotten a break, but finally, it was over.
And then, the machine spoke.
- Okay, you got your mercy. Break is over. The next cycle is one hour – the machine said. Jyn couldn’t believe her ears. Her breath got quick, and she felt the despair growing inside her.
She started repeating to herself: It’s the fear of the next blow that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next blow that breaks you, it’s the fear of the next blow…
She knew that. And yet, she was afraid. And she wanted to break. But she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and braced herself.
And after a few seconds, it hit her, and her mind was completely melted, because the machine started tickling her at full force, just like before, with that maddening intensity she didn’t manage to last even a minute a few instants ago.
And she would have to endure a whole hour. Her laughter could barely be recognized as such, most of the sounds replaced with bone-chilling screams of pure agony. She struggled with renewed strength, strength born from the despair of her hopeless situation.
And the machine added another twist to the torture: Every few instants, the arms would cycle around her, changing the spots each tool was being used. So now she had vibrators on her armpits, feathers on her ribs, brushes on her hips… And on the next moment, another combination. The quick change broke any attempts of defense she mustered. Above all, she cursed her midsection, specially her ribs. Her entire belly, sides and ribs were absurdly ticklish, and seemed to only grow more sensitive each minute.
Finally, she understood how effective that machine was – not only could it keep tickling for a long time, but it could tickle at a much quicker pace than any number of humans could.
She couldn’t take it anymore. 10 minutes into this new torture, she broke. She told what she thought the machine wanted to hear, hoping that it would bring an end to the torture.
Hope was all she had.
- IHIHIHIHIHIH’LL THAHAHAHAHALKK!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHLLL TAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALLLKK!! – She pleaded. She would normally feel terrible, but the ticklish sensations didn’t allow for any other feelings right now. Tickling was everything on her mind – tickling, and the desire to make it stop.
But the pleads fell in deaf ears. She tried again, but didn’t get any results.
She then resorted to one last hope. She breathed. She was ready to die from the start – and at least that little control she was still able to enforce. She was tired of suffering pointlessly – and it was clear for her now that the machine would never stop, no matter what she did. She was tired of being robbed of her freedom, of being merely a toy for that sadistic thing.
She got ready to bite her tongue off, and end it all.
But before she could do it, she felt one of the hands entering her mouth, keeping it open with strong metallic fingers. No, that couldn’t be. That thing couldn’t take her freedom away! She had a right over her life! She tried to shake the hand off, but it was too strong.
- Bad girl… You are not allowed to do this! The cycle has been increased to an hour and a half – The machine said.
Jyn cried. There was no hope left. She wasn’t even allowed to cry properly, since the laughs kept getting in the way. Like a bumbling fool, she spent her time sobbing and squealing, in a horrific paradox.
As she hit the tirthy minute mark, she felt herself completely drained. She felt she was about to faint and welcomed the embrace of darkness. But naturally, the machine would not allow that either. Finally the syringes below her moved, hitting her along her legs and arms. And as the fluid entered her bloodstream, she felt her strength coming back. She struggled harder than ever, trying to shake the needles off, but they followed her movements, always staying in place. She was awoken again.
She cried. She pleaded and begged for the following fifteen minutes, always hoping to finally touch that metallic heart, to finally make it understand she could no longer bear this, and she needed it to end, and that she would do anything for it. But every plead fell on deaf ears. Machines have no feelings, only the programming.
And then, she accepted. She understood at last. She was no longer human. Jyn Erso, the human being with rights, freedom and hope, died with the headshot from Krennic. What they extracted from that place was a shell of a person, a carcass whose only purpose was to obey and to suffer on command.
She wished the Emperor would order her execution soon. But she didn’t hope. She knew better.
And the minutes stretched forever, as all she could do was squirm and laugh, as her ticklish armpits, sensitive thighs and unbearable midsection were probed, raked and pinched. She couldn’t take it anymore, and yet she had no other option, because only human beings deserved mercy.
The machine finally understood that Jyn had reached the state it wished. It stopped for a moment, taking Jyn by surprise. She cried again, this time of relief, but didn’t have much time to enjoy it. One of the hands grabbed her chin and forced it upright, forcing it to face the computer. It was merely a symbolic act – the machine had no face, and could see everything through multiple cameras. And then, it spoke.
- Who are you?
- I’m Jyn Erso… - Jyn replied, hesitantly.
- Wrong. You are the Empire’s bitch. – The machine replied, and two hands started lightly tickling her ribs. She screamed.
- YEHEHEHESS!! I’M THE EHEHEHEMPIHIHIRREHEHEHEH’S BIHIHIHITTCCHH!! – Anything to make that stop. And it stopped indeed.
- What is your purpose in life? – The machine asked.
- T-to be a test subject? – She replied, unsure.
- Close. Your purpose in life is to please me, to please the Inquisitor, and to please the emperor. In that order.
- My purpose is to please you, to please the Inquisitor, and to please the Emperor… - She replied, obediently, feeling disgusted with herself, but also relieved that the tickling finally stopped.
- Good – The machine replied, and the door once again slid open. The inquisitor entered again, and without even looking at Jyn, went straight for the computer.
Jyn saw her chance. She could finally end this. Saw Guerrera be damned, the Rebels be damned, she needed to stop the tickling. She was terrified of the next cycle.
- I’ll talk I swear. Wathever you want. The Rebel Base is in Yavin 4! Their leader is Senator Mon Mothma! They have 3 squadrons, the Blue Squadron was wiped out in the Battle of Scarif. But the Red and Gold one remains, the Gold one is comprised of Y-wing bombers and… - She said, her voice slowly dying as she realized the man was not listening.
He just typed in the computer, and smiled, satisfied with the data.
- The Emperor will be most satisfied with your job, Embrace. – He complimented the machine.
- I am built to serve, Master- It replied.
- I… I want to talk! You did it, you broke me! Please, let me tell you everything, I can’t take it anymore! – She pleaded. Once again, she realized, she was falling victim to Hope.
The Inquisitor slowly approached her, observing the terrible state she was into, how much pain and suffering and distress she was into. He smirked, and said:
- Of course you will talk. This was never in question, Rebel. I told you in the start. This isn’t an interrogation. You cannot end this – He declared, turning his back and moving towards the door again. – Embrace, proceed with the testing. Try a longer stretch now, we need to see if you can maintain a prisoner in optimal suffering for long times. Try four hours for the next cycle, okay?
- NO! PLEASE, I WILL DO ANYTHING! – Jyn screamed. She couldn’t take 4 hours. She couldn’t. They couldn’t be this cruel.
Without addressing her, the man left the room again. The hands in the machine started approaching.
- NOOOOOO!!!! – She cried, as the hands made contact again.
She begged for death. For anything that could give her a break. She cursed the day she joined the rebellion. It was not worth it. She should have obeyed the Empire. Kept her head low. Ignored her father. Everything was lost, and she was in hell.
And, amidst her screaming delirium, she thought she heard something: The motors of an X-Wing fleet. She wondered if her friends had come, or would come, rescue her. It was impossible – the fleet was destroyed, most of the Rebels died, and she just gave them the location of the secret base. Logically speaking, it could end only one way: The rebellion crushed, the empire victorious.
But her mind couldn’t handle the prospect of being locked here, tickled forever. She needed something. And thus, she hoped – she hoped she was indeed hearing a fleet, that the Rebels would come rescue her, that they would find a way.
Hope was all she had.
--------------- Part 2 ----------------
Exhaustion didn’t begin to describe it.
Jyn Erso believed the machine. She absolutely believed the threat of the 4-hour torture session. She believed from the first minute, and the machine gave her no reason to have any hopes of a bluff. Jyn Erso had no idea how long it has been so far, but from past experiences, she supposed she was nearing the one-hour mark.
It had been hell. All the hands and their tools resumed tickling with full intensity as soon as the Inquisitor left the room, and they hadn’t stopped since. Jyn wanted to struggle, to curse, to die, but she didn’t have the energy for the first two or the permission for the third. Slowly, she learned a new definition of what is “bearable” or not. Like, that torture, she thought it was unbearable. And yet, what has she done, if nor bear it for two hours now?
Well, she was broken, and has been for a long time. The once proud rebel would do anything to make that stop. To make the robot stop squeezing her thighs, scratching her armpits, and above all, prodding her ribs. Oh, her ribs, cursed be them all. Still, broken as she was, she was still alive, wasn’t she? She was still laughing. She was still wishing this all would end, in wathever manner. She could still think. Cogito, ergo sum, I think, therefore I am, said some philosopher or something.
For Jyn, right now, it was more on the land of “I laugh, therefore I am”. “I suffer, therefore I am”. Still, the machine had stripped her human rights from her, but it couldn’t strip away her being – not that Jyn would voice those feelings. She had learned to not challenge the machine, to obey the machine, and she would. She was an obedient toy. Still, even if Jyn herself was denied to end her existence, she took comfort in the fact that the machine could not torture her existence out of her.
She needed to cling to something, now that she no longer had hope.
For the millionth time, her mental rambling was dispersed by a particularly effective squeeze to her thighs.
- OHOHOHHOHOHO GOGOHOHOHOHOHDDD!!!
- There is no god here, Jyn. I am your god. – The machine replied.
At this point, Jyn was just hanging, just occasionally squirming lightly when a stronger stimulus shook her up. She had no energy for anything else. More and more, she closed within her own mind, her brain lightly realizing cutting stimulus from the outside was the best way to proceed. Within her own mind, Jyn begun to fear about one thing she didn’t realize she could still lose: Her sanity.
After a few more minutes, however, the machine slowed down. Jyn almost cried of relief.
- I’m getting bored. Let’s play a game, Jyn?
- Whahahahttehehehehevvveheehehrrr yohohohohuhuhu wahahahahahannntt! – She replied, obediently. She learned to not defy the machine.
- Wathever you want, Master – The machine corrected, punctuating the error by increasing the pace again. Jyn howled like an animal before quickly screaming
- MAHAHAHAHASSTHEHEHEHRRR! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSTTHEHEHEHEHERRR!
- Good. – The machine said, slowing the torture down – but not stopping it, never stopping it. Jyn’s life would be composed solely of torture from now on; mercy would only come in the form of less torture. – You still have three hours to go. I’ll start tickling you at full force again in one minute, on spots at my leisure. If you manage to not laugh for five minutes, you’ll receive fifteen minutes of light tickling. If you fail, you’ll be punished What do you say?
- YEhehehehEHEhess MahahHAHassteheheherr!! – She replied, desperate for anything that could ease her suffering.
The machine then started counting from 30, and Jyn knew it was her signal to prepare. And she did, biting her lip hard as it reached 5. 4. 3. 2.
Before hitting 1, the hands made contact with her ribs, catching Jyn by surprise. She squealed and buckled forward, failing immediately.
- Why, that was disappointing – Said the machine, resuming the full-body, full-force onslaught. Once again, Jyn had been stripped of hope, that sadistic machine giving her a taste of it just to take it away. She screamed. – Time for your punishment.
The hands and tools kept tickling her throughout her whole body, as she had been for the past hours, until the five minutes were up. Then, the machine slowed down again, and Jyn fell forward, hanging by the millionth time. Finally, one of the syringes moved and hit her again. She thought it was the revitalizing serum – god knows she needed it, though she would rather just faint – but it wasn’t. She was not sure what it did.
Then the counting started again, and Jyn knew her only choice was to play. And she would. Anything was worth a reduction in the torture – she had grown accustomed with the full-force tickling in the past hours, but now that she got a few minutes of a lighter treatment, she was afraid again. She remembered what having a simpler time felt like, and she wanted that.
Thus she bit her lip at 5 and was ready for the tickling to start at any second, but this time the machine was honest, starting at one, with two hands holding feathers stroking up and down her arms. And once again she was taken by surprise, but she managed to keep her mouth shut, emitting a muffled scream.
She was MUCH more ticklish for some reason. Her armpits were sensitive, but not that much, and not against the feathers. And yet, each stroke was absolutely agonizing. She kept her mouth shut because she needed to do it, but each stroke took out a sound – if the machine wanted perfect silence, she would have lost already. But she was not laughing – muffled yelping, screaming and crying, sure, but not laughing.
Then two hands, no tools, started scribbling her sides. Her eyes popped open – that was unbearable! – but somehow, not even she was sure how, she kept her mouth shut. She started laughing though, continuously, and that put her in a bad spot – with the mouth shut, the air from her laughter needed to go out through the nose, and while it was getting out, it couldn’t get in. She tried to couple the two, trying to gasp short amounts between each laugh, and she sounded like a pig having an orgasm. But she couldn’t open her mouth… She couldn’t…
And then the rotating brushes hit her ribs, and she screamed from the top of her lungs. In the next millisecond, she was being tickled by all the implements again. She screamed, tears rolling down her face. An already unbearable torture had just gotten considerably more intense.
And once again, 5 minutes later, it all ended, she was injected, and the count restarted from 30. She noticed, with horror, that the “light” tickling was starting to feel torturous.
- Plehehehahahahahssehehehhe NOHOHOHHO MHOHOhoHOHOHoohhrrrheheheheeEHEHEE! – She begged to the machine.
Thanks to her desperate pleas, she didn’t prepare herself for the tickling – and she couldn’t really stop laughing, thanks to the “light” treatment. All the machine had to do was squeeze her thighs once, and then the harshest torture would restart, getting more and more maddening each second.
Her chance had eluded her. After three more cycles of that, the “light” treatment was as horrible as the harsh one was before it all started. And when she lost the game, time and time again, she was treated with a torture that transcended the word “unbearable”, that was so horrible that words could not do it any justice. She struggled so hard – despite almost five hours of continuous torture – that she started to feel her tendons and ligaments rupture – but the pain was quickly soothed, and the injuries mended, by the serums of the cursed machine.
She cried, as she was injected with the sensitivity enhancer again.
- PLHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHSSSEHEHEHEHEH STTOHOHOHOHOHOPPP!! KIHIHIHIHIHIHLLLL MHMMMEHHEHEEHHEHEHEHE!!! – She begged, crying.
- No – The machine replied, and all arms descended upon her. Her scream matched those of the damned in the fires of hell. She cried, tears rolling down her eyes, making her taste their salt. She couldn’t take it. Her body couldn’t bear it. Her mind couldn’t bear it. For the love of god, someone make this top. Daddy…
- DDDAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAADDDHHYHYHYHYHYHY!!! – She cried for Galen Erso, for Saw Guerrera, for anyone that could help her.
- Jyn…. Why did you do that? – She heard her father say, and saw him in the corner. She cried more, a hint of joy, hoping her father would rescue her.
- You know you deserve this. Why did you join the Rebels? Why did you let me die? – The machine taunted, with Galen’s voice, adding to the hallucinogens that Jyn had been administered. The young rebel didn’t even consider the hypothesis – she was in no state to do it.
- SAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAVVVHEHEHEHEHEHE MMEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!! – She cried again. – KIIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHLLL MMEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!! – She begged.
- No, Jyn, I will not. Because you dezzerv…. Dzzztt… Bzzzttt… - The machine failed, and stopped. The energy of the whole building had been cut.
Jyn cried of happiness.
- Thahannks… Daddy… Thahanks… - She cried, still giggling from the ordeal, even the lightest breeze managing to tickle her a bit.
The door was blown open and she screamed in terror, certain it was the Empire ready to torture her further. She kept screaming, her altered state unable to recognize the ragtag survivors of the Rebellion.
They broke the machine, freeing her. Admiral Ackbar himself led the charge – he was not a field warrior, but the Rebellion needed every able body.
- Take her quick and let’s go. She’ll recover at the ship! – He said, as one of the soldiers grabbed Jyn Erso on his arms. Slowly, she stopped screaming and, finally, was allowed the comfortable rest of unconsciousness. She didn’t realize it immediately – and, in her dreams, the machine was still there, poking her sides, scratching her ribs – but she was finally free. Her torture was over.
Slowly, she would learn to hope again. She would be restored. And she would help bring peace to the galaxy as one of the greatest icons of the rebellion!
Or maybe she would end up captured again, finally tortured to insanity. Only time would tell. But for now, Jyn Erso rests with a smile, and the Rebellion manages to score a small victory over the Empire.
